Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

so she had decided to stick with the dress.
    "Go find Will, she whispered to the tufted ear below her. Hannibal seemed to require no further orders and broke into a gallop, across the grassy fields and toward the forest.
    Tessa rode through dappled shadows into the cool dark of the forest, green on green. The sweet, cleansing scent of the trees drifted over her. She could hear the twitter of birds and, somewhere distant, the trickle of water.
    She sat stiffly upright, jumping at every twig snap beneath Hannibal's step and turning her head from side to side, cautious of every silhouette they passed. Anxiety drummed inside her, making her pulse beat and her muscles stiffen with tension. Tessa swung the loaded crossbow forward across her lap. She was thankful for the ugly weight of it, and for the remaining bolts that jabbed into her thigh if she leaned forward too far.
    Then she heard the dog. It was the yelping bark of the lymerer's dog, coming from up ahead. The sound brought back every memory, every visceral sensation of the hunt. A knot of fear crept into her and settled deep inside, a cold weight in her gut. But rather than stop Tessa, it whipped her into frenzied action.
    "Go! Go!" she shouted, and leaned forward on Hannibal's neck, kicking at his sides. She clung to his back, tilting and lurching awkwardly, but she hung on. They raced toward the sound and broke through the dense trees into a small clearing, where Hannibal shuddered to an abrupt stop. Gray Lily stood before them.
    She stood, hands on her hips, and looked up at Tessa. "Here she is at last," she said. "I knew you would come."
    Tessa's glance swept the rest of the clearing as Hannibal stepped toward the center. The huge, brutish lymerer stood there, silent and grim, practically at eye level with Tessa as she passed. His Hellhound pulled at its leash and growled. At Tessa's glance the lymerer brought a grubby hand up to his throat and ran a thick tongue over his lips.
    Tessa stiffened and looked away. Hugh de Chaucy was there, near the edge of the grassy circle, sharpening a spear with some kind of flat stone. He did not look up at Tessa but continued to hone the point with rapid, methodical movements.
    "Where's Will?" Tessa demanded from her precarious seat on Hannibal.
    Gray Lily gave her a tight-lipped, smile. "You mean my unicorn, don't you? I don't know. He's off somewhere." She shrugged. "Grazing, perhaps. Leave him alone. He's happy."
    Tessa thought of Will's tortured look when he imagined going back into the tapestry. His love of life, of freedom. "He's not happy," Tessa hissed. "He's a prisoner. Let him go."
    "This is becoming tiresome. Get down from there, girl." Gray Lily barked out the order. "I have what I want. I am ready to leave."
    "Suppose I just shoot you instead," said Tessa. She raised the crossbow and angled it over her forearm, fingering the safety latch. She aimed the pointed barb of the iron bolt at Gray Lily's chest. Her palms felt slick with sweat. Hugh de Chaucy raised his head and gave Tessa a speculative look. Gray Lily eyed the crossbow. She made an exaggerated pose of fright before dropping it and letting out a high-pitched trill of laughter. It sounded like bats swarming from a dark cave.
    "That won't have any effect on me," Gray Lily advised, indicating the crossbow, "and you would waste valuable time." She looked up at the twilight sky. "Evening is coming. The moon rises soon."
    "I'm not afraid of the dark," Tessa said. She rested the crossbow lightly on her thigh so they wouldn't see the way her hands shook. "Whose was the first thread you stole?"
    "What an odd question. Why must you always be so difficult, girl?" Gray Lily's small, dark eyes narrowed on Tessa's face. "I am trying to help you, you know. Do you want your father to die? The Norn are your enemy, not me. They have wronged us both."
    "That's not true," Tessa said. "The Norn will restore the lives of the people whose threads you stole. They've promised." She pointed the crossbow at Gray Lily once more. Anger and fear made her voice come out in a jerky, breathless shout. "The first. Whose was it? The snake? The dragon?
    Tell me!"
    Gray Lily only folded her arms. The light was fading, and shadows crept from the line of trees, turning the colors in the clearing to deeper shades of emerald grass, dark wood, black earth. There was no time left. Tessa aimed the crossbow, her finger pressed to the release mechanism.
    "You make yourself sound like a victim,"