“Are those…” Mikhail trailed off and squinted, trying to get a better view. He grabbed the edge of the rowboat as if his bobbing viewpoint would stabilize.
Long peels of paint stabbed into his hand, which he ignored in favor of squinching his eyes still tighter. The moonlight, bright as it was, wasn’t enough to see clearly in a fleet of dilapidated boats that were certainly not seaworthy, even if they passed muster in a large pond. “Narwhals? In a freshwater pond?”
“Well, don’t underestimate the campus pond,” Liza pointed out. “Or Oren will dump another wave on you. I think the point of this class is to discover what’s in the lake, don’t you?”
“Seasickness,” he muttered, as the boat caught the eddy of another set of oars. “It contains seasickness.”
Professor Kasia Edyth laughed from the next boat over. “Your first answer was closer, Mikhail.” The science professor shoved her ever-present sunglasses firmly atop her nose, though the gorgon’s snakes were coiled tightly to her head in the cool evening air. “They’re not narwhals, but they’re close.”
A white body rose in front of his boat, just as Liza gave an enormous heave of the oars. The creature let out a strange, burbling screech before diving out of the rowboat’s way.
Professor Edyth held up a hand, and the boats more or less drifted to an untidy stop. “Close enough. Now, we wait.”
“For what?” Liza whispered.
Too loudly, although the professor ignored it but for a faint smile.
In the middle of the pond, underneath the moonlight, came rippling flashes of white and silver in the water, led by the horns that Mikhail had mistaken for narwhals.
The flashes formed patterns, one after another, gaining in intensity and speed as more of the shining creatures joined into the dance. Intricate lacework formed, a mosaic of leaping horns and bodies.
It dazzled his eyes, all too brief that the unicorns’ watery dance was, and it took a few seconds for him to realize it had ended. Mikhail gasped once the realization struck him, longing for more.
In front of him, Liza surreptitiously wiped a tear.
“Synchronized swimming,” Professor Edyth murmured into the disappointed crowd. “Everyone hates to see it end. Your reactions are normal.”
Mikhail was the first to manage vocalization. “I…I’m just glad I saw it.”
The gorgon grinned, and propped her oars against her knees. “That’s the right attitude.” She raised her voice. “Once a quarter, coinciding with the solstices and equinoxes, the unicorns dance. We don’t know why, as no one known to our recorded magical history has ever received an answer to any attempted communications.”
The lecture continued, but Mikhail’s attention was caught by the glimmer of a single horn, briefly piercing the water, and dark, watchful eyes.
***
AC Young prompted me this week with unicorns swimming under the light of the full moon. My prompt of mixed emotions went to nother Mike. Check more out and play along, over at MOTE!
