Chapter 7

Naomi stared at the floor as she chewed on her thumb nail trying to think of something to do to help herself. She was stuck on [shudder] another planet, and her only hope, a crazy old woman with a frying pan, had disappeared. She considered Agatha’s letter. She’d already ruined her chances with her big mouth. The wedding was probably off, but hey, the execution was still on. She could feel the maniacal giggles creeping up again.

She raised her eyes when she saw Yula had come to stand in front of her. The older woman didn’t seem mean. She’d been fairly nice to her really as jailers went, but she was still her jailer. “Is there anything else I can get for you, milady?”

“Yes, a way out of here,” Naomi mumbled against her thumb.

Yula absently nodded her head, not as though she would help her escape but only to acknowledge that she had heard her. “I will be happy to fetch anything you need.”

“You can’t keep me here,” Naomi said, but her voice didn’t hold any conviction.

All of this was ridiculous. She could not be on another planet. How had she arrived here if she were? Her eyes turned back to the window to look at the two moons. Only one thing came to mind. Though she could not believe she was pursuing this, she asked Yula, “What do you know about unicorn horns?”

Yula looked at her in surprise. “Unicorns are rare and wondrous beasts. Their horns can heal the sick and purify water. They are very brave and wild. The only thing that can tame the beasts is someone of unbroken honor.”

“Do you know anything else about their horns? What can they do?”

“What is your interest in unicorn horns?”

Naomi dropped her head. “I think one brought me here.”

“Do you still have it?”

She shook her head. “I dropped it.”

Yula sighed. “That is tragic.”

“Could I get another unicorn horn?”

“I couldn’t say. I have never considered it.”

“Where would I find one?” Naomi knew her hope that they were stocked on the corner store was a sick delusion, but she still held out hope.

Yula shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea.” Naomi’s shoulders slumped.

Depressed and dejected, Naomi decided to pursue an even funner topic. “What does Lord Tavik look like?"

“No one knows. He wears the helm at all times. Anyone who has dared to try to remove it did not live to regret it.”

“Why won’t he let others see his face?”

Yula shrugged again.

Naomi rubbed her head. “God, I hope I’m dreaming.”

Yula reached out and pinched her hard on the arm. Naomi yelped.

“You’re not dreaming.”

Naomi rubbed her bruised arm. “Fine, this is all real, but none of it makes sense! When I say I’m not from here, I mean not from this planet. My planet is Earth. We have only one moon, it is white, and we don’t have unicorns or war lords or any of this.”

The old maid began to bustle around the room. “It sounds nice, but you’re here now, and the day is growing old. I have to get you ready for the ceremony, and you will be ready, no matter where you think you are from. It doesn’t matter. Only now does. Accept it.” The older woman's voice had began to quaver near the end of her speech.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just accept your lot. It will be easier if you do. Now slip this on." She held out a long simple gown of white. Naomi took it to feel the fabric. It was satiny with puffed short sleeves. It would probably look very pretty on her.

There was a tap at the door. Yula went to answer it. Naomi rose and retreated to the window. The gown, she supposed her wedding gown, hung from her hands. She shifted the fabric until her right hand was free. She brought the tip of her index finger to her face. Faintly, she could see a red prick. That little pin prick was how she got here.

Yula had stepped outside to speak to whoever had come to the door. She could hear them, and the other voice sounded familiar. The voice was deep and a bit scratchy, and it didn’t sound happy.

The door flew open, and Tavik strode into the room. Yula followed at his heels. Naomi jumped back. The white gown slipped from her hands. It puddled at her feet. Naomi wondered if she should pick it up, but then reasoned it didn’t matter. She probably didn’t need it.

“How do you know Agatha?” he demanded.

Naomi flinched and edged away. “She tricked me into coming here and putting on this gown.”

“Tricked you how?”

Naomi picked at a seam of the traitorous gown. “I was being attacked by this soldier, and she knocked him out with a frying pan. She told me to follow her to a safe place and that’s how I ended up here. She gave me the gown to put on saying it would be a disguise, and not really thinking, I did what she said.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Naomi’s head jerked up. She stared into the eye holes of Tavik’s mask. “I don’t know what you’ll believe. All I know is what happened.”

Tavik stood silently staring at her, at least it felt like he was staring at her. Naomi began to fidget in earnest. “If you’re not Lady Alyssa, where is she?”

Naomi plucked at her sleeves. She really wished she were in her sweatshirt and jeans. She felt like an idiot arguing in the gown: Her ‘disguise’. “I don’t know. I’ve never met this Lady Alyssa. I’d never heard of her until everyone started calling me her. I’m not her.”

“You look like her.”

Naomi’s eyes shot to him. “What?”

Tavik snorted. “Yes, Lady Alyssa,” he drawled.

“I’m not her!”

Tavik crossed his arms.

“Have you made your choice?”

Naomi’s hands curled into fists. “Choice?” she echoed.

“Between death or marriage.”

“But I’m not Lady Alyssa!” Naomi knew this argument wasn't getting her anywhere, and the thought made her sick.

Continue to Chapter 8