sleigh

I turned on a heel, strode toward the street, and spoke again in the voice of Winter.  My voice came out in a quiet murmur in the physical world—but among the Fae, it resounded throughout the city.
“Good People,” I breathed.  “Earn your name.”
There was a rush of wind, a brief curtain of blowing snow, and my sleigh ghosted out of the darkness, drawn by the Winter Unicorn, a vast black, eyeless beast covered in chitinous armor and crowned with a saw-toothed, saber-curved horn between a set of curling ram’s horns.  The sleigh was designed to match, black and covered in swirling thorns, open to the snow.
I strode toward the sleigh, mounted it, and eyed Mab with an eyebrow lifted in challenge.
Mab exhaled a plume of superfrozen air through her nostrils.  And rolled her eyes.
I folded my arms in triumph, gathered my red cloak around my shoulders and said, to the Unicorn, “Let’s get moving.”
The beast pawed the snow once and started forward through the snow, blurring the lines between the mortal world and the Nevernever, flickering in and out of shadow and reality and covering ground in the mortal world at virtually any pace the Unicorn chose.

Microfiction #6, The Good People