Belcazar eyed her darkly, and then he nudged her shoulder. “Give me a bowl too.”
Otto had kept a giant bag full of cash and diamonds upstairs in a wall safe that fortunately had been made out of steel, to keep out burglars instead of unicorns.
“I bet if I keep this, I’m going to get in trouble or something,” Alison said, looking at the money while the unicorns finished drinking. She hadn’t counted it yet, but the bag was crazy huge, and it was almost all in thousand-dollar bills. “Also, oh my God, we just killed that guy.”
“He was fairly close to dead to begin with,” Belcazar said, lifting his head and shaking chocolate milk off his nose, “so I don’t think anyone is going to miss him. Give that here.” He tapped the bag with his horn, and the money all riffled quietly like a deck of cards before settling back down, looking somehow cleaner and more crisp. The diamonds glowed briefly. “I hope you don’t plan on spending any of it soon.”
“What?” Alison said.
“I’m certainly not herding five baby unicorns home alone,” Belcazar said. “They’ll end up in New Jersey.”
“So, where is home, then, the Bronx?” she asked.
Belcazar straightened his neck and tossed his head back a little, somehow managing to avoid putting a giant dent in the ceiling with his horn while he shook his mane out. “The entrance is in Fort Tryon Park,” he said.
“To what?” Alison said suspiciously.
“Er,” Belcazar said. “Home.”
“Fairyland!” one of the baby unicorns said, lifting its head up. “I want to go home!”
“Fairyland, Fairyland!” the others chimed in.
Alison looked at Belcazar.
“The correct name is actually the Land of Faerie,” Belcazar said stiffly, somehow managing to squash in a whole bunch of extra vowels. “Only infants and idiots call it—okay, you know what, just shut up and give me some more chocolate milk.”