Arthur gaped at Greta. "What do you mean, there isn't?"

"You mean I'm stuck like this?" asked D.W., jumping down from the chair.

"Yes, you are, I'm afraid," Greta replied.

"All right!" D.W. waved her arms happily.

Francine stepped in front of Greta, scowling. "I don't believe you. A wish got her into this, and a wish can get her out. All we need is another horn."

"You don't understand," said Greta timidly. "There are rules and regulations. Unicorns aren't affected by unicorn magic. They can't make wishes."

Glowering angrily, Francine grabbed the collar of Greta's blouse. "Break the rules!" she roared. "Nobody's leaving this room until D.W. is an aardvark again!"

Gaining confidence, Greta pushed Francine's arms aside. "You shouldn't talk to your elders that way," she said condescendingly.

Francine clenched her fists and gnashed her teeth, but relaxed when Arthur put a hand on her shoulder. "This won't get us anywhere," he told her.

"There's gotta be a way." Francine's voice reflected desperation. "It's my fault this happened. I gave her the horn. I didn't believe it was magic."

"Don't blame yourself," said Greta comfortingly. "You made an honest mistake."

Arthur looked at the unicorn girl curiously. "So you're saying unicorn magic won't change D.W. back."

"Correct," said Greta.

"Then we'll use some other kind of magic, like dragon magic, or mermaid magic."

Greta folded her arms and spoke in an arrogant tone. "Don't be silly. Dragons and mermaids don't exist."

"Are you sure about that?" Francine asked bluntly. "After all, we didn't believe in unicorns until we met you."

"Trust me," Greta replied. "I've been all over the world, and I haven't seen a single dragon or mermaid."

D.W. walked up and stood in the midst of the three kids. "Hey, does anybody care what I want?" she asked petulantly.

"And what do you want?" Greta asked her.

"I want to stay like this." D.W. caressed her horn with her fingers.

"Well, you really don't have a choice," Greta pointed out. "But being a unicorn in a human world is complicated. You'll have to keep your horn hidden like I do."

"How do I do that?" D.W. asked.

"Close your eyes and concentrate," Greta instructed her. "Imagine your horn disappearing."

D.W. closed her eyelids tightly and started to hum. Seconds later, her horn began to gradually fade away until it was replaced by a small lump on her forehead. "Very good," said Greta.

Opening her eyes, D.W. reached up and felt her forehead. "The horn's gone!" she cried with surprise. Climbing onto the chair again, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed sadly. "Now I look like a stupid horse."

"No, you look like a cute little pony," said Arthur. D.W. slowly started to smile.

"That's how you'll look from now on to everyone who doesn't know your secret," Greta informed her.

D.W.'s face fell again. "But I wanted to show my horn to Nadine, and Emily, and Dallin, and Vicita, and the Tibble twins. Now they'll just think I'm a pony, and they'll want to ride me and pet my nose and give me sugar cubes."

"If you want to stay with your family," Greta admonished her, "you mustn't tell anyone that you're a unicorn."

D.W., Arthur, and Francine gave her shocked looks.

Greta took a deep breath. "We unicorns are an insular community. That means we keep to ourselves. I had to beg my parents for days just to get permission to meet Fern. If they find out what happened to D.W., they may ask the Sentinels to come here and take her away to live with the unicorns."

The other kids gasped. "Wh-what are the Sentinels?" asked D.W. fearfully.

"You don't want to know." Greta's voice took on an ominous tone. "All I can tell you is, if you ever see their faces, you'll never see your family again."

----

Later that afternoon, the Cooper family celebrated the holiday in the customary fashion, gathering around the piano and singing Christmas songs.

As Van rolled up alongside his father and Quinn began to play "Silent Night" on the piano, Mrs. Cooper noted that everyone was present except for Odette. "Hold it, Quinn," she said. "Let me go see what's up with Odette."

She started toward the bedroom shared by Quinn and Odette, while the other family members muttered impatiently. Even Logan appeared anxious to belt out some holiday tunes.

Mrs. Cooper found Odette sitting on the edge of her bed, her swan neck craned downwards, her eyes desolate. Spread across her lap was an embroidery that Quinn had given her as a present.

Turning to face her mother, Odette picked up the embroidery and held it open so that she could see the pattern. On the bottom was an image of a small ship on a stormy sea; above this were written the lines:

"All the water in all the world,

No matter how it tried,

Could never sink the smallest ship,

Unless it got inside.

All the evil in all the world,

The blackest type of sin,

Cannot harm you one least bit

Unless you let it in."

"It's not true, Mom," said Odette despondently. "Evil can get inside you, just like water can get inside a ship."

Mrs. Cooper gazed at her lovingly, as if wishing that her eyes could burn out Odette's memories of her captivity at the Higher Power compound.

"I did what they told me to do because I was afraid they would hit me," Odette went on. "But after a while, I felt like I really wanted to do those things."

"Maybe you should talk to the reverend again," her mother suggested.

Odette looked down at her feet. "All he can do is refer me to a counselor," she said hopelessly. "And all the counselor can do is talk to me about my experiences, and tell me to relax and meditate. So that's what I've been doing, but it's not helping."

"Maybe you just need to spend a little more time at it," said her mother.

Odette didn't answer.

"Are you going to sing with us?"

"No, Mom," Odette answered. "Go ahead without me."

As Mrs. Cooper slowly left the room, Odette laid the embroidery over her lap again, and sighed miserably.

(To be continued...)