The Secret Of The Unicorn Queen - Moonspell Page 3

  "Even if they do not," Illyria said, "there may be others who will try to stop us. And no matter what, the unicorns will become increasingly wild as we near the source place."

  Illyria hesitated again, as if weighing some additional bit of information and then deciding, almost against her better judgment, to reveal it. "There is something else you should know. If the unicorns do not reach Ryudain by full moon, they will die." Ignoring her riders' gasps of dismay, the Uni­corn Queen continued in the same steady voice: "And even if they do get there in time, they may never return to us from the wild. Prepare to ride now," she finished briskly. "We leave tonight under the dark of the moon.”

  3

  Dark of the Moon

  The courtyard was a confused mass of riders, the unicorns they were attempting to saddle, and the rest of the herd, which was prancing about skittishly as if to urge everyone else to hurry. Sheila emerged from the stable, saddle and bedroll under one arm, sword at her side, and backpack strapped securely to her back. Even if Micula didn't think much of twentieth-century “magic," Sheila knew she would never go anywhere without it.

  She scanned the courtyard, trying to catch sight of Morn­ing Star, and finally spotted her racing around the perimeter of the courtyard with one of the wild mares.

  "Morning Star," Sheila called. The unicorn stopped, looked directly at her, and then continued her run. Oh no, Sheila thought. I didn't expect her to start acting up tonight. "Morning Star!" she called again, this time with more au­thority. Almost reluctantly the unicorn approached and stood still while Sheila slipped the saddle over her back and began securing the bedroll.

  The wind was playing havoc with the torches that lit the courtyard, throwing wildly exaggerated shadows one minute and threatening to extinguish the flames the next. Darian who had been standing beside Myno, sorting through a pile of provisions and gear, made his way over to Sheila and handed her a small bundle containing dried food and a water bag. He seemed distracted, barely acknowledging Sheila but looking around the courtyard as if searching for something.

  "Did Wildwing give you a hard time?" Sheila asked.

  "No more than usual."

  "Morning Star was racing around with…" Her voice trailed off as she realized he wasn't even listening. "Darian, what is it? What are you looking for?"

  Instead of answering, he unlooped a length of rope from his belt, took the bundle of provisions from her, and fastened it to Morning Star's saddle.

  "I could have done that myself," Sheila said.

  "I know." Darian concentrated on the saddle, ignoring her. Finally there was no way to pretend the saddle needed any more attention, and his eyes met Sheila's. "I don't know what it is," he admitted. "Things just feel different this time."

  Sheila, who had never seen Darian look so uncertain at the start of a mission, found herself trying to reassure him. "It's not as if we're riding into battle.''

  He gave her a quick smile. "That wouldn't scare me. But this… it's going to change something. I don't know what, but I know things won't be the same after." He nodded to­ward the entrance to the palace. "And there's the first change. We seem to have a new rider."

  Sheila's jaw dropped as she saw Micula, who had been standing beside Illyria and Laric, step into the milling group of unicorns. At once the animals backed away, leaving an open circle around her. For a long moment the courtyard was perfectly still. Then an all-black unicorn mare, one of the wild herd, stepped into the center of the circle and knelt before the sorceress, her ebony horn touching the ground.

  Micula dropped to one knee beside the animal, gently stroking the side of its neck. Then both she and the unicorn got to their feet, and in a motion so quick Sheila's eye could barely follow it, Micula was sitting astride the unicorn's back.

  The riders fell quiet with surprise. All of them knew that no one could ride a unicorn unless the animal chose that person, and that the choosing was a slow ritual of trust; it often took days before one of the wild unicorns would accept a rider.

  "Is she going to ride bareback?" Darian asked in disbelief.

  "Probably," Sheila said with a sigh. She hadn’t counted on Micula's coming with them, and for some reason the very idea made her irritable. "I don't know why she bothers with a unicorn at all. She could probably ride the wind if she wanted to."

  Darian looked at her sharply. "You don't like her much, do you?"

  Sheila suddenly felt embarrassed. She had never talked to anyone about Micula; it would have meant admitting how badly she was doing with the magic. “She's all right," Sheila said noncommittally. "I just don't understand why she's riding with us.''

  "You don't?" Darian asked with a grin. "Of all the people here, you'd think the sorceress's apprentice would understand."

  "I'm not her apprentice," Sheila insisted,

  "Well, whatever you are," he said agreeably, "you still ought to know. It's the unicorns' magic. As it grows stronger, it's bound to attract other forces of equal strength. Almost any kind of power works that way.”

  "So?" Sheila asked.

  Darian gave her an exasperated look. "I just told you. Power unleashed attracts equal power—more often than not of the opposite nature." He sounded as if he were quoting a law of physics, and once again Sheila was struck by the fact that everyone in this world took it for granted that magic worked, and everyone seemed to know more about it than she did.

  Sheila's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Myno's voice, rising above the general chaos, giving the order for all riders to mount.

  Beside the gates that led out of the courtyard Illyria sat astride Quiet Storm, her eyes on Laric, who was calling his men together. All of them were mounted, Sheila saw, which was not necessarily the way they traveled. Laric and his warriors had once been under a curse that had changed them into eagles. Though the curse had since been lifted, the men still retained the ability to shape-shift. Sheila knew it was an abil­ity they used rarely and only in times of great necessity. She was relieved to see that they would be coming with the riders-and that the situation was not desperate enough to require shape-shifting.

  Myno gave another shout, and when the courtyard was quiet again, Illyria said, "I am pleased that Micula has offered to ride with us. I hope you will all make her welcome. And we shall have additional help—at least for this night. Prince Laric and his warriors have offered to escort us to the borders of Campora.”

  Laric's hand closed over Illyria's wrist, and Sheila saw a brief flash of regret cross his face. "We would escort you all the way to Ryudain," he said, "but I dare not leave Campora unprotected for so long."

  "There’s no need," Illyria said steadily, her eyes never leaving Laric's. "Bringing the unicorns to Ryudain is a task meant only for the riders. Still, we will be glad for your com­pany this night.

  She turned to the riders and raised her sword in salute. Then, with Laric riding at her side, she led the way out of the palace compound.

  At first the riders and Laric's men rode single file through Campora's narrow, winding streets, past the wharves and docks of the harbor, and finally through the high city walls and into the lands that lay beyond. As they headed north up the coast, the horses and unicorns broke into a wide, loose formation, racing five and six abreast.

  Nanine and Dian rode on either side of Sheila, calling to some of Laric's men, daring them to match the unicorns' speed with their mere horses. Sheila felt herself grinning as the pace quickened, and Morning Star skimmed lightly over the ground. The wind was still strong, surrounding them with the salty tang of the sea and sending gauzy clouds sailing across the stars. It's as if the night is riding with us, Sheila thought. Everything's in motion.

  The ride became wilder as they reached a broad section of hillside strewn with boulders. Morning Stat did not slow her pace, but jumped the boulders like a trained show horse, com­ing down lightly each time before taking flight again. Sheila held tightly to the black mane, feeling the backpack bounce against her back. The backpack. It had b
ecome a strange re­minder of the world she had left, the world she could no longer return to. But for the first time, that thought gave only the slightest twinge of regret. Part of her would always miss her family and friends, of course, but another part of her had to admit that her own world paled by comparison with this one, At this moment there was nowhere she would rather be than right here.

  "Kind of slow, aren't you?'' called Darian, galloping past her. Sheila's grin broadened as Morning Star lengthened her stride, giving chase without any prompting. While they were all together like this, racing and laughing, she didn't want to think about her own lost world or the dangers that might lie ahead in this one. She bent low over Morning Star's neck.

  "Go on, girl," she urged. "You and me, we'll ride like this forever."

  The riders made camp in a stand of cypress trees just beyond the point where Laric and his men left to return to Campora. The camp was set up quickly and methodically. No one spoke; they were all numb with exhaustion. They had passed the northernmost border of the realm, riding on till nearly dawn. Sheila was asleep seconds after she crawled into her bed­roll.

  She woke late the next afternoon, sore from having slept on the hard ground. I've gotten spoiled from living in the palace, she thought as she tried to stretch out her back, Looking around, she saw that Zanara-Ki was cooking some sort of gruel over a small fire. Most of the others were up and about, al­ready beginning to break camp. Still feeling stiff, Sheila knelt and began to roll up her blankets.

  "Did you sleep well?"

  She gazed up to see Micula offering her a bowl of the gruel. Dressed in a simple brown sleeveless tunic, the sorceress looked as if she had always been one of the riders.

  "Thanks." Sheila accepted the bowl, suddenly feeling rav­enously hungry. Micula nodded toward a fallen tree, and Sheila sat down with her meal.

  "Did you dream last night?" Micula asked as Sheila began to eat.

  "No, I was too tired," Sheila said, and then realized what Micula's question implied. "I thought Mardock could only send me those dreams because he knew where I was—in Cam­pora. He won't be able to follow me here, will he?"

  The sorceress ran a hand through her sleek black hair. "He followed you last night. There was a sending. I managed to deflect it, but-"

  "Another nightmare?" Sheila broke in, her stomach tight­ening with fear.

  Micula nodded. "His magic travels well. It may be that as long as you remain in this world, he will be able to reach you." Her tone softened. "Don't be frightened. There is much you can do to protect yourself. We will keep working to­gether."

  Sheila swallowed hard. "What if that doesn't help? I can't always depend on you to shield me from him."

  "No, you can't," Micula agreed. "Sheila, there are only two ways to keep you safe from Mardock. Either you must learn enough magic to protect yourself, or you must return to your own world. Strong as he is, his magic can't follow you there."

  Sheila winced at the thought. "Well, I can't go there, either," she said. "I have no way to get back."

  "What about the sorcerer who sent you here?"

  "Dr. Reit?" Sheila gave a shaky laugh. "First of all, Dr. Reit isn't a sorcerer. He's a scientist. It's not the same. And second, I don't even know if he can find me anymore. Mardock stole the Tracker he gave me, and-" She stopped as she re­alized that the sorceress couldn't possibly know what a Tracker was. "It was a device, almost like an amulet, that would let him find me in this world," she explained. "But now it's in Mardock's hands, and that means Mardock's the one who can summon Dr. Reit. Not me."

  "That's a fate I'd not wish on anyone," Micula said. Her dark eyes took in Sheila's unhappy expression. You miss this scientist?''

  "A lot," Sheila said, surprised at how much the admission cost her. Why was it that talking about Dr. Reit made her so sad? Suddenly she missed not only him but her parents and her friends and even her awful algebra class. Only last night she had felt she never wanted to leave the land of the uni­corns, and now she felt trapped in it.

  "I don't know how to send you back to your world," Mi­cula said softly. "That's beyond my power. All I can do is help you keep yourself alive in this one. When you are ready to work again, let me know."

  Sheila watched the sorceress walk off, feeling more alone than she had since coming to this world. Although she had won a place as one of the unicorn riders, she would always be different from the rest of them. She would always be torn between their world and her own. And unless she managed to learn enough magic to protect herself from Mardock, it seemed she would always be in more danger than the rest of them. It was with a sense of relief that she heard Myno give the order to prepare to ride out. She didn't want to think about any of this anymore.

  The second night was even darker than the first. Under a thick blanket of clouds, the sky was starless. Following Micula's directions, the riders were traveling along the mountainous northern coast. These were the lands that had been badly battered by the storms. They passed a tiny cluster of huts just after nightfall and then another near midnight, but for the most part they rode along a deserted dirt road that was carved into the cliffs edging the sea.

  Sheila wasn’t sure if it was the narrow road that forced them to go more slowly, or the fact that Laric's men had left, but she felt none of the exhilaration of the first night's ride. Instead, it seemed as if they were all caught up in a strange timeless pocket between the sea and the cliff. The rumble of the waves crashing below bounced off the rock face, echoing relentlessly. The road itself rose and fell along the cliff, but otherwise was unchanging; all around them was the sound and the smell of the sea.

  Then a long, lonely cry rose above the sound of the water. Sheila had never heard anything like it. "What is that?" she asked Pelu, who rode beside her.

  "Wolves," the healer replied. "Above the cliffs there are forests. That's where they are. They've probably caught the unicorns' scent."

  And the unicorns have caught theirs, Sheila thought as Morning Star began to rear up. With great effort, Sheila brought the mare's head down. "It's all right," she crooned, trying to soothe her. "The wolves can't get down here." She turned to Pelu. "Or can they?"

  The healer leaned forward to calm her own unicorn. “Wolves are extremely intelligent," she answered. "I wouldn't put anything past them."

  Great, Sheila thought as she continued to stroke her uni­corn. Morning Star's silky white coat felt stiff and sticky with brine. Oh, let's just get off this road, Sheila prayed silently.

  But the unicorns continued to ride along the cliff, and the wolves continued to howl for what seemed like hours. At last, ahead of her, Sheila saw the road widen.

  The riders came to a halt, and Sheila realized she might have her wish; the cliff road edged up the mountainside where it intersected another equally narrow road—they had come to a crossroads. And then she saw that the others were gathered around something on the ground, In the exact center of the crossroads someone had set out a cluster of small wheatcakes, each holding a single lighted candle. The tiny flames flickered in the wind, miraculously remaining lit.

  Nanine knelt down to examine them. "They must be an offering of some sort," she said thoughtfully, and would have picked one up had Micula not stopped her.

  "Don't touch them," the sorceress said sharply. "The tribes in this part of the land link the dark of the moon with death. The cakes are a way of entreating the moon to return. They belong to her. As for the candles—spirits often enter this world at crossroads; the candles light the way for those who may linger here."

  Sheila felt the hairs along the back of her neck rise. That was another thing that spooked her about Micula—the sorcer­ess seemed to be able to see into other realms, into planes of existence that belonged to the spirits. She thought of her own visions the day before. Was that the first step? If she kept working with Micula, would she one day be seeing spirits flickering at crossroads?

  "Does this mean we're near a village?" Dian asked ner­vously.

&n
bsp; Myno gave an eloquent shrug; obviously the thought of spirits frightened her no more than the thought of battle. "I say it means we ride on and see what we find. And we get off this blasted coast road. I'm tired of feeling as if the sea's about to come up and sweep me off the cliff."

  "Inland we'll be closer to the wolves," Pelu pointed out.

  "Indeed." Micula's tone, light and curiously detached, made Sheila even more uneasy. "Soon we will enter the darkest hour of the night," the sorceress said. "There are some who call it the hour of the wolf. If the wolves want us then, there will be little we can do to stop them."

  "Then we won't worry about it, said Illyria, as close to crossly as Sheila had ever heard her. "We'll take the inland road."

  Without question the riders followed the Unicorn Queen. Sheila guessed they were all relieved to be off the cliff road, but the night was such a strange one that no road felt safe. The call of the wolves followed them inland. It was impossible to tell if the pack was getting closer or if it simply seemed that way because here the sea sounds were muffled by a ridge of hills. It was as if they were riding into another country that belonged wholly to the realm of magic. They had twelve more nights to reach Ryudain, and Sheila couldn't help wondering if they would all be this eerie.

  Sheila rode cautiously, trying to keep Morning Star calm. The mare was definitely edgy. Like the rest of the unicorns, she wasn't used to the continual howling of the wolves. Darian suddenly galloped past without warning, and it was all Sheila could do to keep Morning Star from bolting after him. She watched curiously as he rode straight up to Illyria. Brother and sister conferred for a moment, and then Illyria signaled to Nanine and Dian, who dropped back to become the last of the riders.