Unicorn Hunt: Dragon Sacrifice

They say the best way to find a unicorn is to need one. The spoilt nobles' sons who hunt them have never needed anything but a solid spanking in their lives, so they take girls like me to play the bait. The petty cruelty of it makes me weep.

They have tied me to a tree with ropes that dig into my skin like thorns, but my tears are silent. I will not cry out for rescue, no matter how jagged the bark. My fear will not be the lure that leads another honorable savior to his death.

The nobles say that the unicorns are unnatural, their magic an affront to what should be, but they do not object to the brownies who wash their clothes nor the succubae who come to them in the night. They hate only that which they cannot control.

A wish for freedom, release—an honest desire, but a doomed one. I focus my thoughts and know that if I wish to be free, they will untie me when a unicorn falls at my feet—and hand me a tidy sum of gold, besides. The young ones do it for the fun, to see my impotent hatred as I take my pay and know my complicity in the destruction of something beautiful and pure. They do not care about the philosophies of their elders.

I may starve first—my stomach grumbles—but I will not doom another for my own sake. There are other women like me, women who will be chosen in my stead. My defiance accomplishes nothing save to assuage my guilt. I could not live with myself if I let them use me.

I hear a sound and my heart sinks—what have I done? My mind is addled from days in pain. Have I called one of the poor creatures to me? I hope with all my heart that I have not, that the twang of iron quarrels released from the strings of bows will not be the next noise that comes to my ears.

A man stands before me though I did not notice his arrival. There is no spiral horn between his brows, and I feel nothing but relief until my curiosity gets the better of me; what human male would dare defy the nobility?

It does not matter; they cannot see his face. The arrow is released, and I watch it approach with my eyes wide and horrified, though some small part of me is amazed that I can feel anything at all.

It bounces. He turns, and I see the tear in his shirt. There are scales—cobalt blue and beautiful—instead of skin. A dragon has come for me, and a laugh tears its way from my throat. They set me here as bait, but instead I shall serve my people as a sacrifice, and there is nothing the nobles can do to stop me. I shall have my wish—my death will serve a purpose, a purpose greater than I could have wished.

I cannot see his eyes, but I imagine they are reptile-cold and merciless as he dismisses the boys and turns back to me. He unties me and his scales extend outward from beneath his clothes like wings.

No unicorns will die because of me. I feel nothing but relief as he lifts me into the sky, though I know from stories handed down from my ancestors that only horrors await me at the end of this flight. I do not care.

Those horrors may affect me, but they will not weigh upon my conscience.