Unicorn Bait (9 page)

Soon Yula returned with wine and cheese. She thanked her and said she would be fine on her own for the rest of the morning. She set up the cheese and wine on the table. Mr. Squibbles scampered forward to begin his feast, but she smacked her hand down between him and his goal.

“I ask the questions, you answer them, and then you get a piece of cheese and a little wine.”

Mr. Squibbles’ whiskers twitched at her demands. “Fine, ask your first question.

“Where can I find unicorns?”

“The best place to look is in the northern plateaus. A small herd is supposed to still run in those parts.” Naomi set a piece of cheese and a thimble of wine down before him, which he fell greedily upon.

“How can I catch one?”

“You can go the regular route of hounds and horses, or you can use the traditional method of baiting a trap with a virgin.” She appreciated the offer of two options and decided to be as equally generous and set two pieces of cheese before him for his two pieces of information.

“How does the transportation magic work with the horns?”

“Unicorns can go wherever they want. They simply think it, and they're there.” He gobbled down his new piece of cheese and drank his wine.

“Can a unicorn be told where someone wants to go and take them there?”

Mr. Squibbles sipped from his thimble. It was the perfect size for his paws. She had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from going aw. “A unicorn can understand the words of the virgin but no one else.”

She dwelt on the fact that all this unicorn lore required a virgin, and she hadn’t been one since her high school prom, though she sort of wished she could go back and stop her younger self that night, but she wouldn't have stopped herself with her first boyfriend in college. Happily not a virgin after him.

“May I ask your interest in unicorns?”

“I accidentally got brought here by a unicorn horn and now I’m stuck. I want to go home, and the only way to do that is to find another one. I don’t want to kill a unicorn or anything. I just want to get home.”

“Maybe I can take you to someone who can help,” Mr. Squibbles hiccupped. He’d drunk five thimbles of wine. She wondered if she should start watering down his drinks. “There’s a witch in the woods, mad as a hatter but capable of working strong magic. She might be able to help you.”

The mad as a hatter comment rang a bell. It was a warning bell. “Do you mean Agatha?”

“So you’ve met?”

She wasn’t buying it. A talking mouse just happened to scamper into her room, knew about unicorns and Agatha? “She sent you, didn’t she?”

“She’s not the boss of me! So I made one mistake with an incantation. It was an accident! Rolling R’s are difficult with these teeth. Treats me like an apprentice. Fetch this, Squibbles. Don’t touch that, Squibbles! I’m still an educated mouse. I know the difference between mud-wort and bloodroot.”

“If you’re supposed to help me, what was with all the wine and cheese for information?”

“Because I wanted wine and cheese! Were you going to offer me any otherwise? No, because nobody ever offers proper refreshment to mice. Assume we’ll find it for ourselves. You’d have given a laconic cat a saucer of milk or a chatty dog a ham bone, but mice always have to forage for ourselves.”

“You have issues. Oh God, I have issues. If Tavik finds out, he’s going to kill me. He does NOT like her.”

“The feeling’s mutual. Now are you going to make me EARN the rest of my refreshments or not?” Naomi pushed the rest of the cheese and poured more wine as she wondered how she was going to sneak away from the castle to see Agatha. The old woman had kept her promise. She turned to ask Mr. Squibbles how they were going to get away but found him passed out in what was left of the wine. She tucked him into her pocket for safe-keeping. She sat by the window and thought about possibilities.

Yula came back to with lunch and suggested they spend the afternoon in the gardens. They took a basket to pick flowers and put on straw hats to protect them from the afternoon sun. She felt like a girl from some old Flemish painting. As they cut flowers, Yula told her their names and if they had any special uses other than being pretty.

As Yula sat down and enjoyed the sun, she wandered off for a private word with the mouse. She opened her pocket and peered into it. “Mr. Squibbles, are you awake?”

“Oh, my head. Why is the world swaying?”

“You’re in my pocket. Don’t you dare get sick.”

The mouse rolled into a sitting position. He appeared to still be drunk. “You have an unhealthy concern with my bodily functions. You know that?”

“It’s because you’re bodily functions could end up on me. How are we going to leave the castle without anyone noticing?”

“Leaving at night will probably work best. No one will notice you’re gone till sunrise, unless Lord Tavik visits you regularly at night?” he asked, and she wasn’t sure, but she thought he was leering at her.

“No, he’s not supposed to visit me at night.”

“Guards?”

“I haven’t noticed. I don’t think he has any posted at my door.”

“What about the old woman?”

“She sleeps in her own room.”

“A nighttime escape it is then. I know a secret way to get out.”

“A secret way?”

“A secret passage between walls. I don’t think anyone living knows about it, except mice.”

“How do we get to it?”

“Well, you see that’s the fun part. The entrance is in Tavik’s room.”

“What!”

Chapter 8

Frogs hate unicorns.

Mr. Squibbles flattened his ears and burrowed into her pocket. Naomi quickly looked over at Yula and saw that she looked alarmed. She waved and moved out of eyesight.

She hunched over her pocket and hissed, “Are you insane? Tavik will kill anyone who tries to sneak in.”

“That will be problematic, but a nighttime departure is still your best option. If you try to leave during the day, someone will notice you’re gone like your maid.” Naomi paced unhappily.

“There has to be another way.”

“We could try lots of different ways. We’d have to because none of them would work.”

She frowned. “Well, if this is the best plan, how are we supposed to accomplish it?”

“We?” he squeaked.

“You know the secret passage, and you know where the witch lives, of course you’re going to guide me. That’s what she sent you to do.” She held her breath waiting for Mr. Squibbles’ response. She needed him to go with her. She didn't know if she could escape if she had to face it alone. Mr. Squibbles appeared to be thinking about his answer. He took a long time. Naomi feared she would go blue waiting.

“Fine,” Mr. Squibbles finally sighed. “I don’t suppose you know how to pick locks do you?”

“No, unfortunately I have always been a fine upstanding citizen.”

“We’ll have to get a key then,” Mr. Squibbles said flicking his whiskers.

“We?”

“Sorry, you will have to get a key. I suspect only Tavik has the one to his chambers. You’ll have to use your feminine charms to distract him and slip it away from him.”

“Yes, I’ll just do that the next time we’re alone together. I’ll bat my eyelashes from behind my blindfold and slip my bound hands right into his pocket.”

“If you really want to get out of here, you’ll figure something out.”

She huffed and wondered if there were more helpful talking animals somewhere in the castle like maybe a hungry cat. The day was getting late. Yula and Naomi gathered their flowers and went back into the castle. Naomi asked what the plans were for dinner, and Yula said dinner had been arranged to be served in her room. Lord Tavik was to dine with one of his vassals that night and would probably sleep at their home. She was relieved by the news, which meant there was no way for her to act upon her and Mr. Squibbles' nonexistent plan; instead she could spend the night actually trying to formulate one. Yula sat with her late into the night. Naomi kept to her own thoughts while Yula did some embroidery.

“You are very quiet, milady,” Yula said from her seat by the fire.

She looked up from her daze and gave the old woman a wan smile. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Are you bored?”

She played off the question with a shrug. “It doesn’t seem like there’s much for me to do here.”

Yula nodded and stared at her embroidery. “Once Lord Tavik leaves, you'll find something to do.”

“He’s leaving? When?” Maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about creeping through his room while he slept.

“In a few days I suppose. He’ll be done with all the business that required his attention. His primary goal for coming back was to get you situated.”

“Oh, so he just wanted to dump me here and get back to his wars.”

“A soldier camp is no place for a lady.” Naomi snorted. They were no place for anyone. A sick thought popped into her mind.

“Are you leaving with him?”

Yula’s mouth thinned for a moment, and she didn't raise her eyes from her work. “Our lord has not said if he will want me to go and tend him. There are plenty of maids in the castle, all of them younger than me. One of them can tend to you.”

“But you’re who I know. You’re who I trust.” This was terrible. She’d barely gotten a glimpse of these younger maids. Mrs. Boon made sure of that. If Yula left, she’d be alone. Yula’s mouth thinned more.

“I have enjoyed tending you, milady, and I would not be averse to staying here to serve you, but it will be Lord Tavik’s decision.”

“I’ll tell him to let you stay. He can’t expect you to go back. If it’s no place for me, it can’t be a place for you. Let him take Mrs. Boon. She’ll probably fit right in with the soldiers or scare them.”

Yula’s mouth lifted into a tiny smile. She began gathering her things. “It’s late. I'll leave you to rest, and thank you.”

She went over to her and gave her a hug. “We’ll figure something out. I’m not going to let you go easily.”

Once Yula was gone, she turned to go to bed. She was a little sore from her riding lesson but felt a good night’s sleep would make her as good as new.

“Ready?”

She stopped at the edge of her bed and looked down. Mr. Squibbles crawled out from underneath. “Why are you dressed for bed?” he asked.

“Because I was going to bed.”

“No, you’re not. This is the perfect opportunity to get into Tavik’s room. I bet he doesn’t lock it when he’s not in there. He doesn’t keep any papers or other important things in there.”

“You want to leave tonight?”

“We might not get a better chance!”

She looked around her room in apprehension. She hadn't planned on trying anything so soon. She hadn't made any preparations. She wasn't even dressed.

“You said so yourself, it’s near suicide to try and sneak into his room while he’s there. Tonight is our chance,” he reminded her.

“Yula just said that he won't be staying much longer. He’s planning to return to his troops before too long. We could just wait 'til he’s gone for good.”

“Do you really want to wait, or do you want to not do this at all? For someone who wants to find a unicorn to take her away from here, you aren’t acting very eager to start.”

She stared at the small rodent and knew he was right. If she didn’t want to spend another night in this messed up world, she should leave now, not wait around. She had to consider her life back home. What was happening while she was away? What was her family suffering? With her priorities realigned, she went to her wardrobe and began pulling out clothes.

“What should I bring?”

“I don't know.”

“I'll need clothes.”

“Okay, bring clothes.”

“But what should I bring?”

“You just said. Clothes.”

“But what type?”

It was hard to tell, but it looked like he shrugged his shoulders. “Were you really once a wizard?”

“Yes, I was.”

“And what did you wear?”

“I wore a nice red robe.”

“And is that all you ever wore?”

“What else did I need?”

She shook her head and stuffed a wool gown and another set of underclothes into a bag. “Turn around.”

“What? Why?”

“You just said you were once a wizard. I'm not changing in front of you.”

His sigh was loud and clear as he shuffled around. She slipped out of her nightgown and into a simple dress. Once she was ready, she picked up the bag and moved to the door.

She peeked out of her room cautiously. She’d said that there were no guards, but she didn’t want to take any chances. When she saw that no one was in the hallway, she crept out.

“Come on, let’s go,” Mr. Squibbles said as he ran down the passage. She closed the door to her room and stepped quickly to catch up with the mouse. The fact that she was following a mouse no longer seemed surreal. 

Her heart was pounding when she arrived at Tavik’s door. They hadn’t heard or seen anyone in their sneaking, but she still feared being discovered. She tried the handle, praying that Mr. Squibbles was right about him not locking it when he wasn’t there. It opened easily. She slipped into the dark chamber and closed the door quietly behind her. She raised her candle with a shaking hand. Her eyes went immediately to the bed. For a second, her eyes saw a form on there, and she had a small heart attack, but the candle flickered and revealed her imagination had made shadows into war lords.

“Where’s the passage?”

“This way,” Mr. Squibbles said and darted off into the darkness.

She squinted and crept further into the room. She finally picked out the mouse beside the fireplace on his hind legs. She moved closer, her eyes darting over the mantle. “What do I press to open it?”

“Do you see that discolored stone?”

She placed her hand upon it and pressed. It didn’t budge. “Now count four stones down and three to the right.”

She was glad it was dim so that Mr. Squibbles hadn’t seen her attempt or her light blush. She followed his directions to the stone and pressed. It didn't budge either. “Nothing’s happening.”

“It’s old. Push harder.”

She leaned into the stone and pushed with all of her weight. It shifted a little but still didn’t budge. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“Obviously, you’re not pushing hard enough.”

She tried harder to push the stone. It just stayed where it was.

“Maybe it needs to be oiled or greased or something,” she huffed as she took a step back.

“Let me see what I can do.” He disappeared through a chink in the wall.

She waited nervously. She'd known this was a bad idea. They were going to get caught and then she would be thrown into a dungeon. She hadn’t been shown any on her tour by Mrs. Boon, but Tavik was sure to have one somewhere in the castle. It probably had chains dangling everywhere, a rack, whips, large beady eyed rats who loved fingers and toes, an iron maiden, thumb screws, a rusty guillotine, and every restraint imaginable. Tavik had already shown a peccadillo for tying her up.   

“Mr. Squibbles, hurry up,” she called. She thought she heard muffled swearing through the wall.

Finally, something began to happen. Stones began grinding together and the block she'd been pressing on slid inward. As she began to worry that someone would come to investigate the sounds, the wall began to swing open. As soon as the gap was wide enough, she slipped through. She found Mr. Squibbles waiting for her. He'd gotten dust and cobwebs all over himself while getting the door to work.

“We will not be able to close it. The rope snapped for the main pulley.”

“But they’ll know how we escaped.”

Mr. Squibbles twitched his whiskers. “If you stop worrying and start going, we'll be long gone by the time they discover the secret passage. Now move it!” He took off down the dark passage disappearing quickly. She lingered a moment. She was still indecisive over the whole thing. She spared a thought for Yula and worried that the old woman would come to harm due to her escape. Maybe she should bring the old woman with her?

“Mr. Squibbles, wait!” she called, but the mouse was gone. She thought frantically about what she should do. If she left Yula, she might be punished, but if she was found with Naomi, she would surely be punished. Tavik had not placed a guard on her nor had he seemed to have instructed Yula to watch her. He couldn't punish her for something she hadn't known to do, at least that was how Naomi hoped it would be. She would leave her. The decision made, she felt awful but that was the way it would have to be.

As if karma agreed wholeheartedly that she was doing a bad thing, her candle was snuffed out by a draft with her first step down the tunnel. She thought about attempting to relight it but feared she wouldn't catch up with the mouse as it were. She tossed the candle aside, stepped further into the tunnel, found the far wall and began to follow it. With each step she took, her pace increased until she was running full tilt. She knew she should stop. Her mad dash was foolhardy, but what about any of this was sane, she asked herself. She was following a talking mouse to go see a witch about finding a unicorn. She continued running down the passage to catch up with Mr. Squibbles, but she received no encouraging word that she was anywhere near him.

The passage was pitch black and littered with debris. Stones had crumbled from the wall, and spiders, mice, and other insects had left their trash there as well. Even with her hand on the wall to guide her, she slipped and scraped her hands and knees. She got back up but slowed her pace to a walk, though it didn’t matter because her heart still pounded like she was running.

The darkness was claustrophobic. She had no sense of distance.  Cobwebs latched onto her face and made her skin crawl. She had to blow her nose and spit them out. And she could see nothing: Not end to the passage, not the walls or floor, not her hand in front of her face. She began to panic. It was like she was in one of those sensory deprivation tanks. She couldn’t see or hear anything. She hugged the wall. It was all she had. 

She called out to Mr. Squibbles a few times but received no response. She began to wonder if the little rodent had abandoned her. Maybe it was all a trick. Maybe he had brought her here as a ploy to get her in trouble. Maybe he was now watching with his beady rodent eyes snickering as she stumbled around in circles. She started thinking of ways to kill mice. She could step on him and crush him under her shoe. The sound of his bones crunching would be very satisfying. She could kill him with a trap. She would bait it with cheese. She could poison him, maybe slip something into his wine. She could lock him in a room full of hungry cats. She could clench him in her fist and squeeze till his ribs collapsed, and his beady little eyes bulged. She could dice him up and make stew. She could drown him in a bucket of water. There were so many ways to kill a mouse. Naomi was sorry she would only be able to use one of them when she got a hold of the little traitor. Where was he? Where was she?