The Secret Of The Unicorn Queen - Moonspell Page 8

  "I don't see any guards," Sheila said optimistically.

  "No, but every so often, they'll send someone by to check on him," Jeno told her. "That's what you have to watch out for. Now, just leave the rest to me.”

  Sheila looked at the boy in amazement. "What are you going to do, spirit him out?"

  "That won't be necessary." Jeno drew a long, metal pick out of his belt. "I'm good with locks."

  "I don't believe this," Sheila murmured.

  "Wait here." Staying low to the ground, Jeno made his way over to the grain house. In the darkness Sheila couldn't tell exactly what he was doing—but whatever it was, she was glad he was doing it. Jeno was only twelve years old, she re­minded herself, yet Darian had trusted him with his life, and it was probably the first sensible decision he had made since leaving Campora.

  A quiet creaking sound told Sheila that the door was being opened. She heard it being shut again, and a few seconds later Jeno emerged into the moonlight with Darian behind him. He signaled for Sheila to join them, and together the three began making their way back to the cave.

  They had reached the shoreline, a short distance from the cave, when Jeno suddenly stopped. "Do you hear anything?" he whispered.

  Sheila heard the waves slapping against the sand, and the wind above it all. And finally she heard a much softer sound, a sound that might have been footsteps.

  Darian swore under his breath. "We're being followed. And we're in the open with only one sword among us.

  For a crazy moment Sheila thought they would all have to go underwater. There was no other hiding place. Then again, maybe they wouldn't have to hide at all.

  Working on reflex, for she was far too tired to think, Sheila stood still and let the wind and water and the night sky be­come part of her. The moon had helped them once before, and now she called on it again, with all the power she could muster, asking it to help her cast a circle of protection around her friends.

  "What do you think you're doing?" Darian hissed. "We don't have time to stand around."

  He reached out and would have grabbed her, but at that instant the half moon slipped out from behind a cover of clouds. The sky was suddenly flooded with silvery light, and a gleaming halo arced out from Sheila, ringed Darian and Jeno, and circled back to Sheila.

  Sheila stood astounded, not daring to believe what she had done. The magic was moving through her like a hot, white liquid, and she was afraid that if she moved it would enflame her. So it was with dread that she saw the priest and three men armed with spears approaching. She couldn't move, and from the looks of it. neither could Darian or Jeno.

  The priest and his companions walked right by—as if Sheila and Darian and Jeno didn't exist. They went a little farther along the shore, then turned back toward the village, passing them a second time. And the minute they were out of sight, the circle of silver light spread outward, growing ever thinner as it moved away until it was no more.

  Darian turned to Sheila, his voice hoarse with wonder. "You did it. You-" But he never finished his sentence. Sheila was reeling, everything in her spinning out of control. Darian caught her in his arms just before she passed out.

  * * *

  Sheila awoke back in the cave, She was still in Darian's arms, and Jeno was standing beside him, holding out a steaming cup.

  "Moon be praised," Darian swore softly. "I thought I'd lost you."

  Sheila shook her head groggily, tried to sit up on her own, and slumped back against Darian. The cave was whirling around her.

  "Here," Darian took the cup from Jeno. "Try to drink a little of this."

  Sheila took one swallow. The liquid was hot and bitter and, if it was possible, made her feel even worse. "I need to lay down," she said.

  Gently Darian and Jeno helped her back down to her bed­roll, where she fell into a feverish sleep.

  The second time Sheila awoke it was because Darian had a cool, damp cloth pressed against her forehead.

  "What are you doing?" Sheila asked.

  Darian smiled at her. "Trying to keep your fever down. You've been burning up for three days now.

  "I've been having all these dreams," Sheila said, shaking her head. "Nightmares."

  "We know." Jeno knelt down, offering her a bowl of broth. "You kept crying in your sleep."

  "I kept seeing Morning Star being sacrificed, and Darian being burned in the grain house, and-" She stopped herself. Just talking about the dreams seemed to bring them back. Mardock! He had found her again.

  "Aside from being nearly wild, Morning Star's fine," Darian assured her. "But we've only got four more days to get her to Ryudain, and you're in no condition to ride. It doesn't look as if she's going to leave without you, either.

  "I'm all right," Sheila insisted, trying to stand up. But the ground tilted at a forty-five degree angle, and her legs had no strength in them.

  Darian caught her as she collapsed. A familiar look of irritation crossed his face. "You know something, even when you're sick you're impossible."

  "Sorry," she said meekly.

  Jeno offered her the bowl again, and she made an effort to eat despite the fact that it tasted like boiled seaweed. It wasn't until she had finished the soup that she realized the cave was missing an occupant. "Where's the cub?" she asked.

  "He disappeared on the night of the half moon," Darian said. "I went out looking for him, but couldn't even find any tracks. I'm worried about the little guy—hope he's all right." He gave her a sharp look. "How are you feeling?"

  "Not so great," she admitted. "Do you think my being so sick has something to do with the spell?"

  "Maybe," Darian said. "I've heard Laric say that some­times magic turns against the person who summons it."

  "I shouldn't have been messing around with it at all," Sheila said miserably.

  "That's ridiculous," Jeno argued. "You saved us with that spell when nothing else would have worked."

  "And look what it's done." Sheila turned away from them, sick and discouraged and heartily wishing she had never even heard the word magic.

  Darian and Jeno took turns sitting with Sheila all that afternoon as she slipped in and out of fevered dreams. Occa­sionally she would wake up and Jeno would try to feed her one of his vile tasting herb concoctions, but mostly she dreamt. And in every dream she misused magic and someone she cared about died for it. She woke up sobbing more times than she could count.

  "Sheila, wake up." It was Darian shaking her. "You've slept through another day, and you were about to go into another nightmare." He shook his head in amazement. "I can actual­ly see them coming on." Gently he sat her up against a wall. "Just wait a minute. I'm going to get you something to drink."

  Sheila sat there dazed, only remotely grateful to have been spared another nightmare. She tried to focus on the far wall of the cave, but shut her eyes as she saw a shimmering form slowly appear there. I'm going to open them again, and it will just be a plain old cave wall, she told herself, determined to put an end to the hallucinations.

  She opened her eyes. The form was still there. And it was becoming more solid by the second . . . a tall, white-coated form with frazzled gray hair. "Dr. Reit?" Sheila asked in aston­ishment.

  The elderly scientist looked around him with interest. "What a fine cave," he muttered. "A bit damp, but good ventilation."

  Sick as she felt, Sheila was now relatively certain she wasn't hallucinating. No hallucination could be that eccen­tric. "Dr. Reit," she said again.

  "There you are, my dear girl!" He crossed the cave in three strides. ''I've been all over this world searching for you, though I haven't had much control over where I've been."

  Sheila blinked. "I can't believe you're really here."

  "Well, yes, it seems I am." Dr. Reit held out his arms and examined himself, as if to make certain. Then his gaze fell on Sheila and his expression changed from one of mild bewilder­ment to deep concern. "Oh, my dear girl," he said, kneeling beside her, "whatever has happened to you?"

&n
bsp; "I don't know," Sheila confessed. "I think I tried to work a spell and it backfired." She was still feeling woozy and couldn't manage a more complicated explanation.

  "A spell!" The scientist snorted with disapproval. "Magic and science are a strange mix, you know." He stopped at the sound of Darian returning to the cave, "What an extraordi­nary coincidence! I do believe it's that young man of yours."

  "He's not my-" Sheila began, totally mortified.

  But if Darian had heard Dr. Reit's last remark, he paid it no heed. "Dr. Reit!" he exclaimed. "How did you get here? I thought Mardock had the Tracker."

  "Yes, well, it seems he does, but the fool doesn't know how to use it. Every so often he pushes a button by mistake and I appear." The scientist ran a hand through his frazzled white hair. "Which means, of course, that he must be nearby. I tell you, I don't like that man at all!"

  Sheila had known Mardock was close; all her dreams told her so. But somehow hearing it from Dr, Reit made it even more real. "We've got to get out of here," she said, her voice shaking.

  Dr. Reit frowned at her from beneath his bushy white brows. "You, my dear, are in no condition to go anywhere," he pro­nounced, "Now, I don't know anything about this spell busi­ness, and I'm not a medical doctor, but let's have a look at you and see what the problem is,"

  Dr. Reit had Sheila open her mouth and say "Ahh." He looked into her eyes and felt her forehead. Finally he took her hand in his. It was while he was counting her pulse that he noticed the angry red welts on the underside of Sheila's arm. "Good heavens."' he exclaimed. "How did this happen?"

  Sheila looked at her arm and shrugged. "I think that's where the lion cub scratched me."

  "A lion cub?" he echoed.

  "He didn't mean to. Sheila said, feeling very groggy. "That cub was really cute."

  "I don't care how cute he was," the scientist snapped. "These scratches are infected, and they're poisoning you."

  Behind them Darian gave a whoop of relief

  Dr. Reit turned to the boy and fixed him with an angry gaze. "I hardly consider a diagnosis of poisoning to be cause for celebration."

  "Sorry," Darian said quickly. "But if it's really just poison, I may have the cure." And before the scientist could ask any questions, Darian filled an earthenware cup with drinking water and took it outside the cave.

  Remaining with Sheila, Dr. Reit parted her hand. "Now, don't you worry, "he said. "I'm sure we'll think of something or other that will help."

  Much as she wanted to believe him, Sheila wasn't comforted. And much as she wanted to know how he was and where he had been, she didn't have the strength to ask. She closed her eyes and felt herself drifting.

  "Sheila, wake up," Dr, Reit said sometime later. "Darian's back, and he wants you to drink something."

  "I’ve already drunk half the sea," Sheila grumbled drow­sily. "All he does is give me things to drink. Tell him to go away.

  Then Darian was lifting her head and saying, "This is the last one. I promise. Come on—wake up.

  "No," Sheila said stubbornly, but in the end she gave in. She opened her eyes, glared at Darian, and took the cup from him. “What is this?" she demanded suspiciously. "It looks like water.''

  "That's exactly what it is," Darian said between his teeth. ''Drink it.''

  "How is plain old water-"

  "Sheila," Dr, Reit said wearily, ''do as he asks. I don't know what's in the cup, but at least it's something. And I know I don't have anything for you myself"'

  "All right already." Sheila tilted the cup up and drank water that tasted as if it had come from a fresh mountain spring. The strange thing was that she could feel the water moving through her. As she'd once tried to imagine her breath, she felt the water flowing through her body like a cool stream. She could feel it traveling down her throat and into her arms and legs. And as it flowed, it washed away all traces of fever and sickness. By the time she had finished the water, the welts on her arm were gone. The poison had left her body completely.

  She looked up at Darian and Dr. Reit, unable to speak.

  Dr. Reit asked the question for her. "What on earth was that?"

  "Morning Star's gift," Darian answered. "She's a water conner. All unicorns are. They can change poisoned water into clean. Or change plain drinking water into an antidote for poison."

  "Ah, yes," said Dr. Reit. "I've read legends about the power of the unicorn's horn to counter poison."

  "They aren't legends," Darian said quietly.

  ''No,'' admitted the scientist. ''I suppose not.''

  Sheila sat up slowly, amazed to feel her strength returning. Smiling, she got to her feet. And when she saw that that was no problem, she leaped into the air with a shout of sheer joy.

  "Yes, you're fine," Dr. Reit mumbled distractedly, his mind already focused on a new scientific quandary. "Tell me," he asked Darian, "exactly what did Morning Star do?"

  "Came when I called her and dipped her horn into the water," the boy answered, unable to take his eyes off Sheila.

  "I wish I knew what was in that horn," the scientist said vehemently.

  Sheila looked at him fondly. ''It's definitely something you would have trouble reproducing in the lab," she assured him.

  "Oh?" he said, a bit defensively. "And what exactly might that be?"

  "Magic," Sheila told him. "Pure magic."

  10

  Racing to Ryudain

  "Well," said Dr. Reit, noting Sheila's new improved state, "whatever it is that's cured you, seems to have done so thor­oughly."

  "I'm fine now," she assured him.

  "Then you really ought to leave this place at once, before Mardock finds you." The scientist thrust his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat and began to pace the perimeter of the cave.

  "That's right," Darian agreed with a troubled frown.

  "I'm fine," Sheila insisted. "Morning Star's the one who's really in danger."

  "Tonight will be the eleventh night in the fortnight—that gives us just three days till full moon," Darian calculated. "I only hope that's time enough to reach Ryudain." He looked at Dr. Reit curiously. "I wonder if there's some way to bring you with us . . perhaps Jeno could find us a horse."

  "Where is Jeno?" Sheila asked, realizing she hadn't seen him for a while.

  "Probably cooking up more herbs for you," Darian said with a smile.

  "Well, whoever Jeno is and whatever he does, I don't think there's much point in taking me with you," Dr. Reit said. "Sooner or later that maniac Mardock will push the right button again, and I'll be transported to wherever he is. The only saving grace is that he has no idea what he's doing

  ''We're not leaving you here," Sheila said fiercely.

  "I'm afraid you have no choice, my dear."

  It was, as the scientist had apparently known, too late. Already his form was beginning to fade into a shimmering, transparent ghost of the man who seconds ago had stood before her.

  "Why can't he stay?" Sheila asked, willing herself not to cry.

  Behind her, Darian put a hand on her shoulder.

  "I'm afraid for him," she said. "What happens when Mardock figures out he has him in his power? He will, even­tually, you know."

  "Come on, Darian said gently. "Let's pack up.

  Together they put out the fire, gathered up their belong­ings, and did their best to remove all identifiable traces from the cave. They moved swiftly and smoothly as if on auto­matic drive, Sheila thought.

  Darian scattered the three rocks he had arranged to form a table. "That's it," he said.

  "No, it's not." For the first time since Dr. Reit's invol­untary departure, Sheila was smiling. ''Look," she said, ges­turing toward the entrance to the cave

  "Jeno!" Darian's eyes lit up when he saw what the boy was carrying in his left hand. "You got my sword back! I can't believe it."

  Jeno gave an overly casual shrug. "It's not a Tomai weapon anyway. We prefer knives."

  Darian took the sword from him, handling it with the sort
of reverence normally reserved for newborns. Oh, for heaven's sake! Sheila thought, but she didn't say a word. Long ago Darian had chosen to live by the sword, and for him she knew there was no possession more precious.

  "You're leaving," Jeno said, observing the emptied cave.

  "We have to," Sheila said. “For Morning Star."

  Jeno nodded.

  "We owe you . . . a great deal," Darian said. ''And I don't know how to repay you.

  Jeno considered this a moment. Will you be going home to Campora?" he asked.

  "If we ever get to and back from Ryudain," Darian said. 'Why?"

  The boy suddenly became very absorbed in a pattern his foot was tracing on the ground. "Well, I just thought . . . I mean, I've always wanted to see the palace, and-"

  "As soon as we get back, we'll send an envoy from Prince Laric himself," Darian promised. "You'll come to Campora in great style—escorted by Laric's own men.

  Smiling as if he would never stop, Jeno accepted the pledge. Then he turned to Sheila and held out his hand. She shook it solemnly. "Jeno," she said, "I have to ask you for one more favor."

  Instantly the mischief-maker was back, comically rolling his eyes. "Now what is it?" he asked.

  "Do you know the woman in your village, the one they say lost her soul?"

  His face sobered. "Marta. No one knows what happened to her."

  Sheila took a deep breath. "Well, I do, and I know how she can get her soul back." She reached into her backpack and took out the slightly bent snapshot that had saved Morning Star's life.

  "Her image!" gasped Jeno, turning pale.

  "I want you to return this to her," Sheila explained. "Tell her she must burn it at once. Tell her that if she burns it, no one will ever be able to take it from her again. Will you do that for me?''

  Jeno swallowed hard and took the photo, holding it gingerly away from his body. Walking carefully so as not to disturb Marta's image, he left the cave.