CHAPTER6
Oh my God, I just brained a unicorn with a frying pan.
In her defense, Cathy hadn’t meant to assault the majestic, magical being. She’d already been wound up like an elastic band at the point of breaking, every sense straining for any hint of danger. When she’d heard the soft crunch of a footstep behind her, she’d reacted on pure instinct.
As, apparently, had the unicorn. She’d screamed and swung, the unicorn had shied away and stabbed, and as a result the frying pan was now impaled on its horn like an umbrella shade.
“I’m so sorry!” Cathy blurted out.
The unicorn had gone cross-eyed. Even wearing a frying pan and a disbelieving expression, it was an imposing creature. Cathy had always imagined unicorns as slender, delicate beings, but this one was as tall as a racehorse, and solid with muscle. It had hooves the size of dinner plates, fringed with long, silky fur. Its mane gleamed like molten gold, while its coat was whiter than new-fallen snow.
Cathy, in contrast, was sure that she was as red as a beetroot. She’d never been so mortified in her entire life.
“You hit me.” The unicorn’s mouth didn’t move, yet Cathy heard the words clearly. The deep, masculine voice seemed to bypass her ears and arrive straight in her brain. “With your—is this a frying pan?”
“I’m sorry,” Cathy repeated, feeling even guiltier. If you were going to attack a unicorn, you could at least be polite enough to do it with a proper weapon. “I didn’t mean to take a swing at you. Are you okay?”
The unicorn tossed his head, making his long mane swirl. The pan didn’t budge an inch. The handle stuck out over his forehead at a jaunty angle, like the brim of a cap.
That horn went straight through solid iron, noted the small part of Cathy’s brain that wasn’t busy melting down into a puddle.
…I really, really hope he’s friendly.
At least the unicorn hadn’t immediately trampled her in self-defense, though Cathy wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. He shook his head again, then seemed to give. He eyed her warily, as though worried that she might try to beat him to death with a cheese-grater next.
“I suppose it was my fault,” he said in grudging tones. “I shouldn’t have startled you. But Herne’s hooves, how could you possibly fail to notice my presence?”
“I’m sorry,” Cathy said yet again.
The unicorn shot her a glare. “Stop apologizing, human. I already said you weren’t to blame.”
“I’m—” Cathy cut herself off, face flaming.
When she didn’t continue, the unicorn sighed. It was an impressive sigh. Even Kevin—who, at twelve, was already a master of teenage disdain—wouldn’t have been able to pull off that level of world-weary exasperation. Then again, her son didn’t have equine lungs.
“I didn’t come all this way to have you goggle at me like a flounder,” the unicorn said testily. “This has already been a waste of valuable reading time. What in the name of all the goddesses are you doing?”
“Uh…” Cathy felt like her brain had slipped a gear, leaving all her thoughts spinning in circles. “Look, I’m really sorry, but I need a minute here. I’ve never met a unicorn before.”
“Unicorn?” The unicorn’s nostrils flared. “Human, do I look like a unicorn?”
“Er.” Cathy gestured at the creature’s long, spiraling horn. “Yes?”
The apparently-not-a-unicorn rolled his sapphire eyes. With a pointed flourish, he spread his wings.
Cathy stared up at the arching pinions. She’d been so fixated on the creature’s pointy end, she hadn’t really paid any attention to the rest of him. Now, standing in the shadow of those vast golden feathers, she felt remarkably stupid.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “You’re a… pegasus-unicorn?”
“Alicorn, thank you very much.” The absolutely-not-a-unicorn refolded his wings, tucking them against his flanks again. “Or winged unicorn, if you prefer. Just not unicorn without additional qualifier. Unless, of course, you wish me to refer to you as a hairless ape.”
“Sorry,” Cathy said, and winced.
The alicorn let out another of those gusting sighs. “Human, if you don’t stop apologizing every other sentence, this is going to be a remarkably tedious conversation. You didn’t know. Now you do. That’s the end of the matter. There is no shame in ignorance, unless of course you cling to it with willful stubbornness.”
“I won’t,” Cathy promised. “I mean, if I make a mistake, please correct me. I’m a stranger in this realm, and I don’t know your customs. I don’t want to offend you.”
“Hmph.” The alicorn dipped his head, holding the impaled pan out toward her. “Before we go any further, can you please do something about this damn pot? I’d need hands to get it off myself, and I can’t do magic while I’m wearing a lump of iron as a hat.”