Once Upon a Unicorn

by Lou Anders

  She wasn’t a night mare anymore. Oh, that was hard to grasp.

  What would the Curse do about that?

  Well, she was about to find out.

  Because the fairy monarch rode Midnight right into the Hidden Glen.

  Midnight’s clean coat was all shiny. Her new horn was all glowy. Her new mane all golden and lushy. Titania was all bright colors and youthful, flowing locks and gleaming crown. Together, they looked like they’d climbed right out of a masterful painting or a thrilling storybook.

  The night mares all leapt into the air, they were so shocked. They neighed and snorted in fear. Old Sooty was so alarmed that she farted a burst of black smoke that propelled her ten feet through the air.

  Only one night mare in all the Curse kept it together. Can you guess who? Only the biggest, strongest, fiercest night mare in the entire herd. It was Sabledusk, of course. Who else would it be?

  “Queen Titania,” said Sabledusk, trotting up to them and looking for all the world as if she had everything under control or soon would. “We did not expect this visit. What are you doing in our Whisperwood? You are a long way from the Court of Flowers.”

  The queen looked down on Sabledusk from where she rode on Midnight’s back. Her upper lip curled in a sneer.

  “Silly pony,” said the queen. “Speaking as if we were equals. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take your Curse and gallop out of here as fast as your flaming hooves can carry you. Or I’ll show you a Curse, oh, I will.”

  Well, you can imagine how that went over with Sabledusk. But in case you can’t, I’ll tell you.

  Not. Very. Well.

  Sabledusk’s eyes positively glowed with anger and her mane burst into bright yellow flame. She reared up on her back legs and she shouted, “Someone is leaving here as fast as their hooves can go, but it isn’t the Curse!”

  Midnight actually shied back a step. It was her own hooves, after all, that Sabledusk was talking about. Her mother hadn’t recognized her. She wanted to say something, to let Sabledusk know it was her. But she hesitated. Sabledusk had never looked as fierce or as strong before. She was proud of her mother, but also a little afraid of her too.

  Queen Titania merely laughed at the burning, blazing black horse that towered before her.

  “Out of my way, you ugly, ugly creature,” she said, and she raised a hand. Her fingers started twitching, and Midnight guessed very accurately that the queen was about to cast a spell. With that worry, she found her voice.

  “Wait! That’s my mother!”

  Sabledusk snorted in surprise.

  Then Titania laughed a mean little chuckle.

  “Night mare,” said the queen, “my mount seems to think she’s your daughter. Is this true?”

  Sabledusk’s flames rose a full foot into the air before she spoke.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, fairy,” she said. Midnight could hear the disgust in her voice. “That’s a unicorn. No unicorn would ever be a daughter of mine.”

  “Mom…,” Midnight said in a soft voice. But no one heard her now.

  Queen Titania completed her spell.

  A ray of golden-y, purply light zipped from the queen’s fingers. The night mares were all picked up and cast away in the force of the blast, flung into the Whisperwood.

  “Mom!” yelled Midnight. She caught Sabledusk’s eye as her mother was hurled away. But it was too late. Because now the queen placed her fingertips to either side of the band of the Crown of Horns, right above her temples. She closed her eyes, concentrating.

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  And then the Crown of Horns let loose.

  There was a great big golden light shining from the Crown of Horns. It arced up into the air like water from a fountain. It fell down upon the center stone like rain from the sky.

  And the center stone seemed to suck it up, to drink it in, to gulp it down like a thirsty beast. All that golden light pouring into the parched rock.

  Then, to Midnight’s surprise, the center stone began to stir, lifting itself inch by inch until it was standing straight up again.

  And then it moved. It shuffled back and forth, dragging its weight across the ground, until it was exactly where it used to be. Good as new.

  As new? Not yet.

  Because then the golden light poured from the center stone, flowing like a wave of honey, until it engulfed all the other stones.

  Those stones that had tipped or toppled over across the many, many centuries straightened up too. Soon all the stones looked like they were standing at attention. Like they were awake and alert and ready for anything. Now they were good as new.

  Nope.

  The moss and the dirt that had covered them for centuries suddenly dried up, flaked off, and blew away in a cloud of greenish-grayish dust.

  Then all the long-faded runes carved into the stones, the runes that had been worn down and become hard to read anymore, became very clear and very visible. The runes began to glow in reddish-goldish light.

  Now the stones truly were as good as new.

  Midnight realized then what the queen was doing. She wasn’t changing the stones. She was healing the Silent Stones. She was using the healing power of all those stolen unicorn horns to repair the Silent Stones and make them what they used to be when they were first made. Now they were exactly what they had been when long-forgotten druids had placed them here to protect the islands from the fairy folk.

  And Midnight had a thought. Had she really been changed? Or had she been—

  But then her thoughts were interrupted. Because the Silent Stones were silent no longer. No, the Silent Stones began to sing.

  It was like a humming at first. Then it was like a chanting. It swelled in volume. It grew until it was like the sound of boulders tumbling down a mountain. Like the rumbling sound of rocks shifting below the earth. Now they were the Singing Stones.

  Midnight heard hollering and complaining, yelping, barking, whining. She heard mewing, cawing, and squawking. Because every Wicked Fairy and Wicked Fairy Creature lurking in the woods beyond the Hidden Glen was suddenly very, very uncomfortable. After all, they had never liked the Silent Stones very much to begin with, even when they had lost most of their power and were just old, moss-covered rocks. They certainly didn’t like the Singing Stones when they were actually singing and doing it at full blast. So they were hollering. And they were fleeing. Midnight heard the sound of their many feet and wings and scales as they ran and flew and slithered away.

  Then Midnight heard something else. Hoofbeats. Approaching.

  Someone was coming here when everyone else was leaving.

  Curious galloped into the Hidden Glen.

  “Midnight!” he shouted.

  She was astounded. Her friend had come for her again.

  Midnight tried to move closer to Curious. But the queen gave her mane a tug and held the night mare in place. Something about the fairy queen’s grip sent shivers all down her neck and into her forelegs, and they refused to obey any orders but Titania’s. She was stuck. But Curious saw, and he understood.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m here to rescue you.”

  “You rescue me?”

  “It’s sort of my turn, isn’t it?” he said. Then Curious looked at the Singing Stones, and he listened to their wordless song, and Midnight could almost see his Scientific Mind putting it all together.

  “I know what she’s doing,” Curious said.

  “What?”

  “By restoring the stones,” he explained, “she’s driving away all the Wicked Fairies.”

  “But won’t she be affected too?”

  “Not while she wears the crown.”

  “True,” agreed Wartle, still clinging to Curious’s horn.

  “What about her own court? And all the good fa
iries in her part of the isle? Won’t they be driven out too?”

  The queen spoke up.

  “I’ll stop the stones’ singing before that happens. Once all the Wicked Fairies are gone, I’ll destroy the stones. The entire isle will be mine!”

  “Well, that does sound like a good plan,” admitted Curious.

  “Curious!” Midnight was aghast.

  “I don’t mean ‘good’ as in ‘good,’ ” he explained. “I mean ‘good’ as in it would work.”

  “It is working,” said the queen. She looked down at Midnight, on whose back she still rode. “You’re a unicorn now. If we get rid of all the Wicked Fairies, you and your new friends can have the whole island.”

  Midnight didn’t know what to say. The Curse slept inside the circle of the Silent Stones for protection from Wicked Fairy Creatures at night. So if they were gone, the woods would be a lot nicer. Then, she supposed, unicorns could have the whole island. And she was a unicorn. She didn’t belong in the Curse. The Curse…

  “But what about the night mares?” she asked.

  “What about them?” asked the queen. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them separately at some point.”

  “Deal with them?” said Curious.

  “Well, once I’ve converted all this dreary woods into something prettier, I can’t have ugly burning horses running about. They’d scorch my flowers.”

  “But my mother…”

  “Didn’t recognize you,” said the queen. “And wouldn’t want you as you are anyway. And really, why would you want her? We can find you a much better mommy if you need one. One who is charming and sweet and never fusses at you for misbehaving. And now you’ll be a much better daughter than you ever were before. And everyone will like you.”

  A better daughter. Midnight had always wanted to be a better daughter. But not by being a unicorn. Not because she’d been turned into someone else. She wanted to control her fire. Now she didn’t have to worry about controlling her fire anymore because she didn’t have any. She’d have new magics, unicorn magics. And…she wanted to be liked.

  It was tempting. All she had to do was…nothing. She could just sit back and let the queen drive away every bit of her old life and give her a new one.

  She looked at the only other unicorn in the glen. The one who had come to rescue her. He had come to rescue her before, too, when she was still a night mare. Night mare or unicorn, he didn’t care.

  That settled it.

  “Curious,” said Midnight. “I can’t do anything with the queen on my back. Do you know how to get this mangy monarch off me?”

  “He wouldn’t dare,” said the queen. “And anyway, he wouldn’t know how.”

  Curious bobbed his head.

  “Don’t be so sure, Your Majesty. In fact, I have an Experiment in progress. You’ll like it, Midnight,” he added. “It’s like one of your Plans.”

  Curious charged at the queen. She saw him coming and pointed a finger his way. A bolt of purple light zapped toward him. But he raised his iron-shod hoof and the light split in two, zipping away to either side.

  The queen gasped.

  Curious reared up and touched the queen with his horseshoe.

  “It burns! It burns! It burns!” she screamed. She tumbled from Midnight’s back.

  Midnight leapt clear of her.

  “What is that thing doing on your hoof?” she asked.

  “It’s an iron horseshoe,” said Curious. “Turns out fairies can’t stand iron,” he explained to Midnight.

  Titania glowered at Curious.

  “We can’t,” she said. “But iron or no iron, I’ll deal with you in a moment. Right after I’ve finished this.”

  The air behind her twitched. Gossamer wings grew from her shoulders. Queen Titania rose above the ground. Curious leapt for her, but she was too high.

  Honey light flowed from the crown, and the transformation of the stones continued. Curious and Midnight couldn’t reach her, so they couldn’t stop her.

  “There’s nothing we can do,” cried Midnight.

  Things were bad. They were so bad, our heroes didn’t see how they could get any worse.

  But you know that’s not true.

  No matter how bad things are…

  Things can always get worse.

  Because just at that moment, who should come riding into the clearing but that bothersome fairy, Jack o’ the Hunt?

  Jack o’ the Hunt rode upon the poor, unfortunate new night mare.

  “A wondrous plan, one must confess

  But not, Jack thinks, the very best.

  For while she plotted, toiled, and dreamed,

  Jack labored toward another scheme.”

  Another scheme? thought Curious.

  “Jack,” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

  “How is he here at all?” asked Midnight. “He’s a fairy. Shouldn’t the Singing Stones drive him away?”

  The pumpkin head beamed at Midnight.

  “If Jack sets foot upon the ground,

  He’d have to scream and turn around.

  But Jack is safe by all account,

  When seated on a night mare mount.

  But no time has Jack to treat with you,

  For Pumpkin Jack has things to do.

  The stones a-singing will not stop,

  So to another world they’ll drop.”

  Well, that made Curious’s ears perk up. Another world? He didn’t have long to wonder, though. Because next Jack motioned with his tattered gloves, and from out of the Whisperwood floated a pumpkin shell. Inside the pumpkin was the Absorbing Orb, and in the Orb…

  “Winky!” cried Wartle. He reached with both hands toward the pumpkin. Instantly all the singing from the stones made him woozy, so he quickly clamped his fingers back on Curious’s horn.

  “Ahhhhhhhhh,” said Wartle with a long sigh.

  Wartle was right, though. It was Winky in the pumpkin, lighting it up with bluish light. And following behind this floating vegetable lantern came none other than Sabledusk.

  “Mom!”

  But Sabledusk didn’t respond. She didn’t take her gaze off the pumpkin bobbing in the air before her. Sabledusk had a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes.

  “She’s charmed!” Midnight yelled to Curious. “Just like you were.”

  She wasn’t the only one.

  Another pumpkin and another floated out of the woods. And more mesmerized mares trotted along behind them.

  There was Midnight’s friend Vision. There was Darkcloud, and Phantasm, and Shadowbutt. Every member of the Curse. Even Old Sooty.

  They were all charmed. All mesmerized by a line of floating winks-in-orbs-in-pumpkins, and Jack was leading them.

  “Now round and round we all must go,

  And when we stop, Jack only knows!”

  Jack led the Curse in a ring around the stones. He drove his heels into the new night mare’s flanks, and she broke into a gallop. All the night mares galloped.

  “Stop!” cried Midnight. “Stop!”

  But they didn’t stop. They only sped up.

  The fairy queen concentrated on pouring out golden light. Maybe her magic would be more powerful than whatever Jack was doing. Or maybe not.

  Faster and faster around the ring the pumpkins spun and the night mares ran. The air grew purple. The singing of the stones began to fade, as though it was coming from far away. One by one, the stones began to sink into the ground.

  Only it wasn’t ground. It was a big, gaping, smoking vortex where the ground used to be. Through the hole, Curious and Midnight could see the shimmering, shifting shapes of some other place.

  Floating in the air, the fairy queen gritted her teeth under the strain. She was pouring all the healing magic she could into the stones,
but it wasn’t enough. They were slipping away. And Jack was singing again.

  “Night mares, when they run at speeds,

  Have powers beyond normal steeds

  To open doors to other lands,

  So Jack feeds on night mares when he can.

  But now Jack runs them in a ring

  To rid us of the stones that sing

  And when the stones have gone away,

  All Jack’s friends will come to play.”

  “Jack’s opening up a portal, like the mirror,” said Curious. “That’s what he meant by dropping them into another world. He’s getting rid of the Singing Stones.”

  “But the Singing Stones keep the Wicked Fairies away,” said Midnight. “Even the Silent Stones did that.”

  “Exactly,” said Curious. “If we can’t stop him, there’ll be nothing keeping even the biggest, baddest Wicked Fairies from coming from Elsewhither. The Glistening Isles will be overrun with the most powerful Wicked Fairies.”

  Midnight ran after Sabledusk.

  “Mother, stop! You’ve got to stop! Snap out of it!”

  But Sabledusk didn’t stop. She didn’t reply at all. Not even when Midnight shoved her.

  “I can’t stop them,” said Midnight.

  And she was right.

  And that was bee-ay-dee bad.

  Because if you thought the Whisperwood had some nasty things in it before, what was coming soon would be a thousand times worse.

  Midnight and Curious could see some of them. Vile and nasty creatures that were appearing in the shadows of the trees. And some things that were taller than the trees. Things that were so big they could never have come to the Glistening Isles before.

  Boobries and black dogs, salpucks and dwirts, sluagh and nuckelavees. And I am sorry to tell you this, but there’s not much that is nastier than a nuckelavee.

  The fairy queen saw all these Wicked Fairies too. She twisted in the air, fighting to pour more and more healing power into the stones. But it still wasn’t enough.

  “Oh, what do we do? What do we do?” said Midnight.