Moonspell Page 5

  "Single-handedly?" Myno scoffed.

  "It means you will have to give up Wildwing now," Micula said. "For he cannot remain here. There are only eleven nights left until full moon, and he must travel with the others.''

  That, Sheila saw, was something Darian hadn't counted on. He swallowed hard, running his hand through Wildwing's thick black mane, and for a moment she thought he would change his mind. But he dismounted and removed the saddle from the unicorn. She saw him whisper a few words to the animal, and heard Wildwing whinny in response, almost as if trying to dissuade his young rider from his foolish plan.

  Darian stood with his arms around the unicorn's neck, then broke away, turning to face his sister, "I hope you get to Ryudain safely," he said, his voice all but breaking.

  "Darian," Illyria said softly, "are you sure you want to do this?"

  He nodded stiffly.

  "What about the boy?" she asked.

  "He's my prisoner," he said defensively. "He stays with me.”

  Illyria sighed, "Well, at least have Pelu see to his wrists before you go. He's rubbed them raw."

  "I'll see to them,'' Darian said gruffly. ''Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt him. You know that."

  "I know," Illyria said with a sad smile. "I only hope the Tomai will be as gentle with you." And before he could protest, she dismounted quickly and hugged him. "Travel well, little brother,'' she said. "I'll miss you.''

  Darian didn't say anything, but reached down and pulled the boy up from the ground. Then, without another look at any of them, he turned and headed back toward the Tomai village.

  Sheila couldn't believe any of this was happening. She knew that Darian was proud and stubborn and a little too full of himself. And there had been other arguments with Illyria, almost always over strategy, but never anything like this. She couldn't believe he would actually leave the riders. And she couldn't believe he would leave without even saying good-bye to her.

  "Let's go," Illyria said briskly. "We've wasted too much time already."

  It was early afternoon, and there was time to kill before the riders broke camp and set off again. Sheila was walking down by the water's edge, trying to ignore the hollowness she had been feeling ever since Darian's departure. She had just decided to turn back when she heard a shrill high-pitched whinny behind her. It was a sound Morning Star only made when she was ready to fight—the unicorn's battle cry.

  Whirling in alarm, Sheila saw the white mare running full-speed toward her, black mane flying and eyes wild with fury. Instinctively, Sheila drew her sword, and her eyes scanned the terrain for signs of intruders. But there was no sign of an enemy. Only the unicorn charging madly ahead, her black horn lowered. Sheila felt her throat tighten as she realized what was happening. Morning Star was charging her.

  "Easy," Sheila heard herself say. "What's got you so scared?"

  The mare screamed again and reared up, lashing out with her forelegs.

  "Morning Star!" Sheila's cry was anguished. “It's me! Why are you doing this?" But her words had no effect. It was as if the unicorn had gone mad. With another shrill cry Morning Star launched herself at her rider, and Sheila watched in disbelief as instinct took over—her sword arm lifted itself in an attempt at self-preservation, and the unicorn's white chest met the blade.

  “No!" Sheila screamed as she saw Morning Star stumble in the surf. The unicorn was bleeding, looking at her now in confusion, as if unable to understand why Sheila had hurt her.

  "Morning Star!" Sheila threw the sword down and wrapped her arms around the warm, silky neck. There was blood all over, and the unicorn dropped to her knees. "No" Sheila sobbed. "You can't die. Please. Don't let it be me who's killed you.”

  "But it is," said a silky-smooth voice.

  Sheila looked up through her tears to see a tall, dark man whose hair fell to his shoulders in jet-black curls. He watched her without pity or amusement. There was only malice in Mardock.

  "You're covered with blood," the wizard observed. "But don't worry, the water will wash it all away. Let the beast go now—she's dead. And you will come with me,"

  "No!" Sheila screamed as the wizard came closer. She buried her head in Morning Star's neck, weeping, for she knew that Mardock had spoken the truth.

  Then gentle arms were lifting her up. "Sheila, it's all right. It's just a dream. Come, wake up."

  Unbelieving, Sheila opened her eyes and saw that it was Illyria who was holding her, and she was sobbing against the Unicorn Queen's shoulder like a small child. "I'm sorry," she said, pulling away in embarrassment.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for," Illyria said softly. "He's sent you another nightmare, hasn't he?"

  Sheila's voice shook. "This one was worse than all the others. Where's Morning Star?"

  "Right here."

  Sheila looked up and realized that the unicorn was standing beside them, alive and well and watching her rider with concern. Instantly Sheila was on her feet, her arms around the mare.

  "I had hoped that by now you would be able to turn away Mardock's dreams," Illyria said.

  Sheila released Morning Star, unable to meet Illyria's eyes. "Me, too," was all she could say.

  Illyria put a comforting arm around her youngest rider. "Well, perhaps this will be the last one," she said. Together they walked through the camp, past Zanara-Ki and Dian, who were practicing knife-fighting, past Pelu, who, as usual, was in the middle of the unicorn herd, to where Micula stood alone, looking out at the sea.

  "Time and again you've proven to me that you're a fighter," Illyria told Sheila as they approached the sorceress. "Now you need only find the weapons to use against Mardock."

  "You make it sound easy," said Sheila.

  "Not easy,” the Unicorn Queen answered. "It's never easy. But for you it is possible." She gave Sheila a quick hug and then turned back toward the camp.

  Hesitantly Sheila approached the sorceress. Micula did not turn but said, "The waves are growing higher. We've had no storms since leaving Campora, but there will be flooding anyway.

  Sheila stood beside Micula, watching the sea. To her it looked the same as always—full green swells and waves crashing endlessly on the shore. "How do you know?" she asked.

  Micula gave her a rare smile. "When I was a child, I was sent to this part of the country to be taught. I spent a year just a little way up the coast in a miserable, dark hovel with an old woman who could call down the rains if she wanted to. She held more magic than anyone I've ever known, and spent her whole life trying to avoid using it."

  "Did you learn a lot from her?" Sheila asked, for the first time curious about Micula's childhood.

  "She taught me which roots and herbs to gather for certain healings. But mostly she taught me to clean her hut. I hated it. And, at the time, I hated her."

  Sheila focused her gaze on the sea, not daring to meet Micula's gaze. She had never actually hated the sorceress, but there certainly were times when she hadn't liked her. "Does the old woman still live here?" she asked nervously.

  "No, I would have sensed it by now if she were still in this area. I don't know what happened to her. I think that if we met now, she would probably still terrify me."

  "You?" Sheila couldn't keep back a snort of laughter. It was impossible to imagine Micula who sent armed men fleeing with an incantation being scared of anyone.

  Micula regarded her student with amusement. ''Perhaps," she said, "you and I have more in common than you think."

  Sheila took a deep breath. "Then will you work with me again?"

  Micula gave her a sideways glance. "Are you sure you want to?"

  ''Yes.''

  "Very well." Micula led Sheila a short distance away to another hill that overlooked the sea. Without being told, Sheila sat down and once again began the process of grounding. She concentrated on making her body very still and very relaxed. Then she tried to feel herself a part of the hill beneath her, the sky above her.

  "Feel what is around you," Micula said.
>
  A strange sensation passed through Sheila's body, something she didn't recognize at first. Then she knew that it was nothing less than all of the strength that flowed through the physical world around her. She felt the earth holding her up, the salt breeze lifting the long strands of her hair and playing with it, and the overwhelming power of the ocean as it hurled itself against the shore.

  "Their strength is now part of you," Micula said. "You must gather it round yourself in a circle of protection, a circle no one may enter and no one may break. Call the power to you.

  Sheila felt herself trembling as she said, "Earth and sky, wind and water, I ask you to lend me your power.”

  All around her Sheila felt energy rising, as if an invisible rolling wave were surrounding her, flowing into her, threatening to carry her with it.

  "Now bind it!" the sorceress commanded.

  "And"—Sheila faltered—"and gather that energy into an unbroken circle.”

  As quickly as it had risen, the wave of power receded.

  Sheila looked up, dazed. "What happened? How did I lose it?''

  "You lost your concentration. Not for very long, but long enough," the sorceress answered. "When you stumbled over the words, you broke the spell. True power can only be commanded with surety.

  "Oh." It was impossible for Sheila not to feel disappointed. For the first time she had almost worked a spell.

  "You came very close," Micula said thoughtfully. "I think we might try something else. This is actually a simpler matter, but one you could not achieve without the power you just demonstrated."

  Sheila gave Micula a questioning look. Was the sorceress actually saying that she, Sheila McCarthy, had some sort of power?

  "Everyone has it," Micula replied, reading her once again. "It's simply a matter of knowing how to focus and use it. Now, I want you to try a summoning. Try to call one of the riders, Pelu would do well; she's not far from here, and she's sensitive to magic. Find her and call her to you.”

  Sheila nodded, trying to contain her excitement. Once again she began the grounding, patiently guiding herself into an awareness of her connection to the world around her. This time it was the wind she felt most strongly. She felt it moving across the face of the water, bending grasses and sweeping through trees, swirling around her and rising within her, one with her own breath

  "You must see Pelu now," Micula said. ''See her and ask the wind to call her to you."

  Sheila concentrated on an image of the fair-haired healer, standing as she had last seen her among the unicorns. For a second she held a picture of Pelu in her mind. And then Pelu's image faded, and in its place Sheila saw a wall of sapphire-blue light. As it had once before, the wall vanished and Darian appeared before her. He stood alone on the shore, shivering in the morning sun. His face was turned away from her. Darian! she called out silently. At her call he whirled to face her, and Sheila felt herself stiffen with fear. Darian looked the same as always—strong and handsome and just a touch too cocky for his own good—but clinging to him was a gray vapor that had nothing to do with the spray rising from the waves, Sheila had never seen anything like it before, and yet she knew at once that it was something to be feared.

  "Micula!" she called out, breaking the spell. "You've got to help Darian. He's in danger!''

  At once Micula's cool hand was on her own. "Shhhh. Calm yourself and tell me what you saw.”

  Fighting her own rising panic, Sheila related the vision as best she could.

  "There was only the gray vapor?" Micula asked.

  ''That's enough!'' Sheila insisted. ''I know it means him harm."

  “Possibly," the sorceress admitted. "This time, however, Darian will have to take care of himself."

  Sheila got to her feet, furious. "What good is it to see visions if you can't do anything about them?"

  "Not can't," Micula corrected her. "Won't. Magic is not something to be used lightly. The old woman was right about that. Neither you nor I may use magic to interfere with Darian unless it becomes absolutely necessary. You're right in that danger surrounds him, but it will be a while yet before it's a serious threat. For now we must leave him to his own devices.

  Everything Micula had said made sense and yet Sheila couldn't accept it. She knew she would have to find a way to help Darian. But in the meantime she had a question. "Micula, what happened? I tried to summon Pelu and got Darian instead. And it happened once before—in the tower room

  Micula gazed out at the sea once more, and for a moment Sheila was afraid she wouldn't answer the question. "There are two things involved here," the sorceress finally said. "The first is that you have a strong connection to Darian, and power flows most easily where there has already been an exchange of energy. You've already cleared the way, as it were. And the second thing is that you have stumbled upon one of the great rules of magic."

  "I have?" Sheila asked.

  "Indeed," Micula answered with a deep laugh. "Magic is unpredictable."

  6

  A Rider Alone

  By the time Micula and Sheila returned to camp, dusk had fallen and the others were preparing to ride out. Micula called to her unicorn at once, while Sheila went in search of her saddle. It was only four nights since dark of moon, and with each passing night Morning Star had become increasingly difficult to saddle. She would allow Sheila to put the saddle half on before twisting away and then refusing to come near again,

  Sheila called the unicorn with a sigh. She was not looking forward to tonight's wrestling match. But Morning Star surprised her by coming at her first call and standing calmly while Sheila fastened the saddle girth and her gear and then mounted.

  "What's got into you?" she wondered aloud, "You haven't behaved this well since before we left Campora."

  The unicorn whickered what sounded like a brief and irreverent explanation.

  "Whatever the reason," Sheila said, leaning forward to drop a kiss between the mare's ears, "I'm glad you're in a good mood. Now, you and I have something very important to take care of."

  She wheeled the unicorn through the camp until she caught sight of Illyria. The Unicorn Queen was engaged in a wrestling match of her own with Quiet Storm, who was easily twice the size of Morning Star and twice as resistant. Sheila watched in awe as through a combination of patience, guile, strength, and shameless pleading Illyria managed to saddle the silver-coated stallion. "I think I'll start riding bareback like Micula," she muttered under her breath when she was securely mounted.

  ''Illyria.''

  "What is it?" Illyria snapped. Her tone softened as she looked down and saw Sheila. "Did the work with Micula go any better?" she asked.

  "Yes," Sheila said, her words coming out in a rush, "and that's why I need to talk to you. Micula had me try a summoning, and I saw Darian. He looked all right, but I could see that there was danger around him."

  "What did Micula say to this?" Illyria asked.

  “That I had seen correctly,'' Sheila answered, "and that we couldn't help him through magic. Please, you've got to let me go to him."

  The Unicorn Queen frowned. "And where exactly do you think you'll go? Do you know where he is?"

  "No," Sheila admitted. "But if I head south, toward the Tomai village, I'm sure I can find him."

  Illyria looked skeptical but didn't have a chance to respond. Wildwing suddenly darted by, riderless, and Quiet Storm rose up on his hind legs, clearly intent on following. Using all her strength, Illyria held the unicorn in place and turned to Sheila. “I'm worried about Darian, too," she said. "But he chose his course. As for you, it is your duty to bring Morning Star to Ryudain."

  "I know," Sheila said, "but I think I had that vision for a reason. I've got to try to find him. Just let me take Morning Star overnight. We'll rejoin you by nightfall tomorrow—with Darian."

  "You're making promises you can't keep."

  "Please," Sheila said as Micula rode up beside them on the all-black unicorn.

  “First Darian, now Sheila," Illyria muttered
to the sorceress. "If I didn't know them better, I would say I had a mutiny on my hands."

  "Hardly," said Micula, making an effort to calm her own unicorn.

  Illyria gave the sorceress a look Sheila couldn't decipher. You approve of her going?"

  "Approve is the wrong word," Micula answered. "Darian is already in tremendous danger, and if Sheila goes, she will join him in that. But she has been called to it. I don't think we have the right to stop her."

  "As the unicorns were called to Ryudain,'' Illyria murmured, running a hand through Quiet Storm's mane. Her gaze returned to Sheila. "And how do you plan on convincing Morning Star to run south when everything in her is being drawn in the opposite direction?"

  "I don't have to persuade her," Sheila said, realizing for the first time why Morning Star had been so well behaved. "Look at her. She's the only unicorn who isn't acting up. She doesn't want to go to Ryudain right now. She'll go with me."

  "She speaks the truth," the sorceress said. "Let her go, Illyria.''

  Illyria sighed and gave Sheila a worried smile. "Go and come back safely. And bring that stubborn brother of mine with you."

  "I will," Sheila promised.

  "Micula, give her whatever information will be useful in dealing with the Tomal," the Unicorn Queen ordered. Then she brought Quiet Storm alongside Morning Star and gave Sheila a quick hard hug. "We will meet in Ryudain," she promised.

  * * *

  Sheila rode out under a crescent moon, feeling fairly pleased with herself She had almost gotten the spell of protection to work, and she had somehow managed to summon Darian. And since Morning Star was cooperating so beautifully, she was sure that she was meant to find him. But as she traveled farther south, her confidence waned. She was riding straight into a headwind that left her exhausted, and she was not used to riding alone. Worse, she knew she wasn't really alone—from the moment she and Morning Star set out, they had been followed by the wolves. Occasionally a blood-curdling yell rose above their howls, a sound Pelu had long ago identified as the call of a mountain lion.