Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

and she let out a cry of frustration.
    "Are you okay, ma'am?" A chubby woman in a floral caftan pulled her luggage on wheels up next to Lila, her face concerned.
    Lila turned on her with a snarl. "Leave me alone!" she screeched.
    The woman backed up, startled. "Well, fine," she huffed, and hurried away.
    Lila straightened as much as she could. "Moncrieff," she said, nearly spewing the word. He had let this happen. Oh, he would pay for such incompetence. But first she must get the tapestry. And her unicorn must go back to its rightful place. And as for whoever had released him ...
    "I will find you," she promised. Yes. She would find the filthy thief and sing her black song and pull his life's thread. Not to weave it. No. She would destroy it. Tear it into tiny pieces. Send it into the Void.

Chapter 14

"You came from the tapestry," Tessa said softly, more to herself than to the stranger. He still stood close, his hands on her shoulders, his pale, tense face looking down at her. But whether he was trying to restrain her or steady himself, she couldn't tell.
    "It's impossible," Tessa whispered. She closed her eyes tightly once again and shook her head. Wake up, Tessa . This had to be a dream.
    "I thought so as well," said the young man. After a pause he added: "I had given up hope."
    Tessa opened her eyes. He was still there.
    "So you were the ...," she began. She couldn't even say it aloud.
    The young man frowned. He took a hand from her shoulder to reach up and touch his forehead. He dropped his hand with a long exhalation and curled long fingers into a fist.
    "The unicorn," he finished. "Yes. And no." He glanced around with a look of confusion and his gaze returned to her. "I thought I recognized you, but you are different. As is this place. It cannot be--" He broke off and shook his head. "Where am I? Where is the forest? Who are you?" he demanded.
    "Who am I ?" Tessa gasped. The question snapped her back, if not to reality, then at least to the recent highlights. " You're the one who just appeared out of nowhere!"
    When he didn't make any move to release her, a headline flashed in Tessa's mind. Local Teen Strangled by Escaped Lunatic Male Model . She pressed both hands to the man's chest, which beneath the ragged clothing was firm and ... not going anywhere. She tried shoving, but his hands only tightened their grip.
    She went very still. "Let go of me," she said. It made her mad to hear how her voice warbled. She jutted her chin and stared up at him. "Right. Now."
    He didn't budge, but something hot blazed in his eyes and Tessa saw them as she had before. It was impossible, but his were the golden brown eyes of the unicorn. They held a mixture of anguish and rage and fierce pride. She trembled, remembering a dream. Then it was gone. He dropped his hands and stepped back, his expression neutral.
    "My name's Tessa," she said, rubbing her arms and sidestepping his tall form to sidle across the room.
    "Tessa." He repeated it slowly, his gaze following her.
    Tessa snatched up a small but heavy trophy from the bookcase. She held it by the gold-plated figure on the top and loved, loved , for the first time ever, that she'd won second place in the 2005 freestyle event at Crazy Wheels.
    "That's right. Tessa Brody," she said, turning to face him. "And this is my room. My house." She brandished the marble base of the tacky Rollerblader at him. "So. Who are you? Forget it. Just get out. No." She hesitated, confused, torn between fear and curiosity. He just stood there, watching her. "Who are you?" she repeated finally.
    The stranger glanced at her would-be weapon and raised his hands slightly. "I beg pardon, mistress," he said, although there was nothing remorseful in his cool tone. On the contrary, he lifted one brow, giving his lean, clever face a look of surprised amusement. "My name is William de Chaucy." With this, the young man in rags gave a short, formal bow.
    Tessa stared at him. "William de Chaucy," she repeated as he straightened. The very polite escaped lunatic. She felt a little of her bravado melt and had the sudden and really urgent need to laugh. She sat down on the end of her bed. Or rather, she let her legs wobble out from under her. The bed happened to be there.
    "What are you doing?" William de Chaucy said, his expression guarded.
    "I think it's called going into shock," Tessa said. She looked up at the tapestry on the wall, then back at ... Unicorn Guy, and choked back a giggle. "Cut it out," she told