Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

horses."
    "Oh really?" snapped Tessa. "Well, we don't happen to have any horses in the old corral at the moment." She flung the bloody cloth to the floor. "Do you always order people around like this?"
    " Yes, " he said, with stormy emphasis, as if pleased that she finally understood.
    "Fine," Tessa shot back. "But it seems to me, having just been rescued or released or whatever"--she threw her hands up--"you could be a little nicer."
    Opal stood by, looking at Tessa with wide eyes. Blinked. Looked at Will.
    He never took his eyes from Tessa's face. "Perhaps I have my reasons," he said quietly, his expression unreadable. "But it is true. I do believe I owe you my life, mistress. Such as it is."
    There was a bitter irony in his tone, in his words, that baffled Tessa.
    Before she could react, his expression changed. He smiled again and laid his hand on his chest. "And so, if my manner has been surly, please accept these, my sincere apologies. I shall try to be, henceforth, nice." He bowed once more, but this time it was deep and, no mistake, mocking. His eyes were trained on hers, glinting a challenge from under tousled hair.
    Tessa tried to ignore the strange little hiccup in her pulse. "Okay then," she managed. "But I still don't see how you can go off on your own. You've got no money, no food. And there's presumably somebody out there who could ..." Take your life and basically turn it into macrame . "Hurt you," she finished.
    Then she remembered something else. "The woman who owned the tapestry," she said. "She wants it back. Maybe she knows something about it, something that could help." She frowned, trying to recall the name.
    Meanwhile, William de Chaucy's face was set in firm lines that seemed to express cool disdain for the idea. "Thank you, but I shall take my own counsel on the matter," he replied.
    "We should find out, at least," Tessa argued. "Besides," she reasoned, "where would you go?"
    "Home," Will said, as if it were just that simple.
    Opal looked back and forth from Tessa to Will. "You know, the two of you are acting like this isn't totally whacked." She waggled a finger between them. "Do you think you could both be crazy together? I've heard of stuff like that happening--mass hypnosis or psychosis. Hysteria, that's it."
    "Hello?" said Tessa, raising a hand. "Not hysterical here."
    "I am standing before you, Mistress Opal," said Will dryly. "And that"--he pointed to the empty clearing in the tapestry--"is where I was. "
    Tessa allowed herself to gaze at the tapestry once more. She took a step toward it. "What is it like?" she asked. "Inside there?"
    Will de Chaucy regarded her gravely. "As you see. A forest," he answered. "Exquisitely beautiful. And deadly. And endless."
    She stared at the dark center of the tapestry, then said in a quiet voice, "I wonder if there might be a way for you to go back?"
    He stiffened. "Is that what you wish?"
    "No," said Tessa simply. "I didn't mean--"
    "I will never go back into the tapestry," Will said. He glared at her. "I would die first."
    Opal shook her head. "A unicorn," she said, eyeing Will. "People just don't get turned into unicorns. I mean, this is a mythical creature we're talking about."
    Will picked up a snow globe from Tessa's desk and turned it in his hands, studying it. "I don't know how Gray Lily performed the witchery." He looked at Tessa closely, and again she saw distrust in his eyes. "Or how you managed to reverse it, mistress. But I am, as you can see, real. And as for the unicorn," he added to Opal, "it is not mythical. It's legendary."
    "Okay. So what's the difference?" said Tessa.
    Will shrugged and set down the globe. "Mythical creatures are imaginary. A fiction. Legends are based on something real."
    "Right," said Opal, nodding agreement. "I get it. Kind of like Elvis."
    Will turned to her. "Who?"
    "The singer. Elvis." Opal held up an invisible microphone, slicked back an imaginary pompadour and swiveled her skinny hips.
    Tessa smiled despite herself. This was getting crazier by the minute.
    "Elvis is a legend, right?" said Opal. "But he was a real guy first. The King of Rock and Roll."
    Will nodded thoughtfully. "Yes." He turned back to Tessa. "I am like Elvis."
    Tessa gave in to a helpless laugh at his serious expression. William de Chaucy cocked his head, looked at her and raised one brow. Someone knocked on the door.
    "Tessa?" her father called. "May I come in?"
    "Oh. Just. Perfect," Tessa bit out under her breath. Then she yelled, "Uh.