Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

himself, kept himself apart. Cool, aloof. He had been protecting himself. From her?
    A virgin in his haunts , Tessa thought. Only a virgin could lure the unicorn into the snare. Only a virgin. And then the obvious finally sank in.
    "And what if I wasn't?" she asked.
    "What?" Will asked.
    "What if I wasn't a virgin?" She said each word distinctly, slowly. "You'd be safe from me if I wasn't a virgin. Is that what you thought? Is that why you kissed me? Why you would have--" She stopped, daring him with her eyes to deny it, to lie to her.
    "Don't be absurd." Will's face looked ashen, but Tessa wasn't going to be fooled again.
    "How stupid am I," she said to herself, turning away and covering her face with her hands. "Stupid. Stupid."
    She heard Will mutter a curse under his breath, but she didn't look back until he grabbed her and spun her toward him.
    "Stop it," he said. He was breathing hard. "Tessa. It is not that way."
    She shoved him away as hard as she could with both hands. "Leave me alone!" she cried, and ran across the dark hall.
    "Where are you going?" he demanded.
    "Don't you know already?" she said sarcastically. She swiped at the tears streaking her face. "I'm going to set a trap for you."
    Tessa ran through the darkened hallways, her bare feet pounding hard stone. She didn't care where she went or what happened. She just ran. The tears felt cold on her cheek as she made her way deeper and deeper through the dark. She climbed a passageway so narrow that the walls seemed barely wide enough for her to pass. She had to slow down finally when it became too dark to see. Her hands scrabbled against rough, unfamiliar forms as she came to the top. She spied a small room to her right, lit from a narrow window with a faint streak of moonlight. A low wooden bed stood in one corner.
    Tessa collapsed onto it, exhausted.

Chapter 40

The thin mattress was stuffed with feathers--mostly the pointy, quill part, it seemed. Tessa opened her eyes. Between the crying and the goose feathers poking her all night, she felt raw, inside and out. She rose and went to the window. Outside, the low hills rolled away in a soft, rich palette of greens and browns. The day had dawned crystalline blue, with no hint of the ravaging storm the night before.
    "It's beautiful," she said to herself. But beauty didn't particularly impress her this morning, and she turned away, only to see Will standing in the doorway watching her.
    Silently he came and stood next to her.
    Tessa gazed out across the landscape, afraid to look at Will. He didn't seem willing to speak about what had happened the night before. Or what hadn't. Tessa knew she had overreacted.
    Overreacted? She'd gone crazy, she thought, remembering her outburst. Will de Chaucy wouldn't sleep with her to save himself. That was crazy. But what wasn't crazy was the fact that he didn't trust her. The idea hurt so much she could hardly breathe.
    "Tessa," Will said. "Look at me."
    "It's all right," she said quietly. "It doesn't matter anymore." Tessa pointed to a small figure approaching. "She's here. Gray Lily is coming."
    "Then we had best prepare to meet her," Will said shortly. He turned away.
    Will gathered weapons from the wall. He selected a long wooden bow and quiver of arrows, both of which he slung over one shoulder; then a short, bone-handled dagger went into a sheath on his belt. He grabbed a huge sword in a heavy leather scabbard and fastened it around his waist. He was perusing a variety of round, hammered-metal shields when Tessa's impatient huff finally caught his attention.
    "Well?" she said pointedly. "Aren't you going to give me something?"
    Will looked taken aback but then surveyed the choices and passed a critical eye over her. "I don't suppose you have ever used a crossbow."
    Tessa set her jaw. "Just show me."
    "Here," he said as he handed the hefty and archaic-looking weapon to her. The weight of the crossbow surprised Tessa, and she threw Will an uncertain look.
    "Don't worry. You only need to aim and fire." He strode to a chest, from which he took a handful of short arrows. He gave her one.
    "Pretty heavy for an arrow, isn't it?" Tessa said.
    "It's called a bolt," said Will. "And it's iron. Now watch."
    He took the crossbow from her. He bent over, put a foot into a leather stirruplike piece and, holding the bow steady, straightened himself and pulled the bow upward until the string caught in the notch and the bow seemed taut to the point of snapping.
    "Lock it here,"