What? Roxanne leaned forward excitedly and the fox growled. Does that mean you’ve seen one? No one else has seen one, they just told me to go north and west!
Yes; go more far-cold, to the place of always-snow, in the direction of sun-down. The onehorn lives on a mountain there.
Roxanne examined the fox’s mental image of the unicorn. It was beautiful and sleek, much more delicate than what she’d pictured. Its horn wasn’t so much silver as it was gossamer crystal, air and light spun together into a shining, deadly point.
Thank you. She released her mental hold on the fox. He darted through a tunnel hidden in the deep snow, hissing in indignation.
She stood and brushed herself off, a hopeful smile threatening to break across her lips. For the first time in the fortnight they’d spent trund
