Amalthea. I'm taking you home now.

I'm not sure what I mean by home. Lilac wood, Koshayn, your other body? They say home is where the heart is, but I cannot say where that is either. Lir thought it was here, with him, and he was partly right--and has part of you. But part was not enough, for you or for him, and in his frustration and pain he violated you.

I am not his apologist, but I feel the need to... defend him? Explain? You musn't judge Lir too harshly... no, you would do no such thing. Or would you? Perhaps I am projecting, anthropomorphizing. Yet there is human in you, somewhere, this you acknowledge yourself, and if you blame him... well, you have every right to do so. Still, Lir is not just a little mad, and he loved you. He did this, all of this, out of love. Love gone mad.

Even now, I fear he will come upon me, in your room, wrapping you up like a bundle. He is like an animal; he may smell your departure... so we must be quick. It feels wrong to sling you over the bow of the saddle in such a manner, but I fear if I do not secure you in some manner you will slip off, and we don't have the time.

Faster, faster, faster...

If you fell, would you bleed again?

*

"Molly."

"Not who you were expecting."

He dipped his horn. "No."

"Schmendrick is under suspicion... it seemed safer for me to take her. He will be along soon."

"And... Lir?"

She hesitated. "I... I don't know..."

*

It was the part of the morning between the moon and sun: one has gone down and the other has still to come up. Molly napped fitfully against the warm side of Koshayn, his long legs curled under him and his large eyes trained sleeplessly, watchfully on two broken pieces.

They were stretched out beside each other, unicorn prone on her side, girl on her back. Strands of human hair twined with the silvery mane so seamlessly it was difficult to distinguish between them. Amalthea had flung one arm away in sleep, and it draped over the slender neck of her counterpart, one as white as the other. It was as if they were slowly blending back into one being, liquifying, melting together.

And then Schmendrick was with them. He said atop his horse, face drawn, looking not just a little bit tired and sore and weary.

He had Lir with him, eyes droopy with drug or spell, barely conscious, his arms tied behind his back at the elbow.

Molly only stared as Schmendrick slithered off the horse; Koshayn rose gravely but made no move toward the pair.

Schmendrick clumsily dragged Lir to the ground, supporting most of the other man's weight as he was slowly lowered to the ground. On the ground, he looked more like Lir: young and sleepy, easy-going, at peace with the world. He didn't even turn his head to Amalthea.

Koshayn eyed the scene warily, one hoof raised as if to strike. "What--" and then he fell.

"Schmendrick!"

"Well," he said lightly. "It seems I can still magick a unicorn into a stupor. Don't worry," he added, noting Molly's concern, "neither will suffer any ill affects... from the spell, at least."

"What... what are you doing?" She hated herself for the tremor in her voice.

The magician extended his hands, made fists, dropped them to his sides, radiated tension. "She chooses," he said tightly, "and she chooses now."

to be continued... if you're nice to me.... ^_-