25
Lewis
It was as if Sneachda could hear Lewis’s thoughts. The unicorn stopped dead. He slid off her back and tumbled to the ground, onto a carpet of soggy leaves. As Sneachda disappeared into the trees, he rummaged in his pockets for his torch.
There was a large, dark shape moving among the trees.
“Sneachda?” he whispered.
A deep silence fell, as though each forest creature had pricked up its ears and was waiting for him to speak again. He clamped his mouth shut and slowly turned, moving the torch in a wide arc. Wherever the beam lit, another large shape flashed past in the shadows. In the distance he could hear a low, steady drumming of hooves. It seemed the whole forest was alive. He wasn’t alone at all. He was surrounded.
Lewis pressed his back against a tree, the rough bark scraping his jacket. Standing perfectly still, torch beam focused on one spot, he listened for the sound of Ailsa’s footsteps, the click of a trigger. He was being watched.
He raised the torch higher and the beam shone on a gleaming, spiralled pewter horn, a grey silk mane.
“Liath? It’s Liath, isn’t it?”
The unicorn tossed its head and slipped away into the darkness.
“Wait! Liath, please wait!”
Lewis tried to follow, tripping over dead logs, crashing into dense thickets, clumsy in the torchlight. As he stumbled, the light kept flickering. Then it died.
“I had a dodgy battery too, Rhona,” he muttered, stuffing the torch back in his pocket, his stomach clenching in fear at the thought of being lost in this dark, spooky forest.
But there was a little moonlight now, filtering through the trees, silvering the leaves, and as his eyes got used to it, the forest became less terrifying. The small creatures whose scurrying feet had freaked him out were tiny wood mice and voles, foraging for food. The eerie screeches above came from a beautiful, pale-feathered barn owl, eyeing him from the treetops. The large silver-grey shadows that flashed past, just out of focus, were unicorns.
The ground became stonier underfoot. He reached an outcrop with trailing ivy and lush ferns, the wet rocks glistening in moonlight. A stream of glittering water trickled over lichen-stained stones before cascading over the rock face and splashing into a pool. A unicorn trotted from the cover of the trees, bent its head and started to drink from the pool.
Lewis took off his filthy glasses and rubbed them on his sleeve, wanting a clearer view. This forest was magical, and he wished Rhona was with him. But something startled the unicorn. She shook her silver mane, sending droplets of water flying like tiny shooting stars, and galloped off into the trees.
Behind him, a twig snapped.
“I’ve had more than enough of this. It ends here.”
He whirled round, lifted his hand to shield his eyes, dazzled by the light. When his vision cleared, he saw Ailsa, carrying a torch in one hand and dragging something along behind her with the other. Her shotgun was slung over her back. As she swung her left arm, the thing she was dragging pitched forward into the pool, then emerged, spluttering and coughing.
Lewis recognised the jacket first. Relief made his knees buckle and he grabbed a rock for support.
“Rhona! You’re not dead!”
Ailsa swung her torch so the beam hit him again, full in the face. “She’s not dead… yet.”
Rhona picked herself up, swept a hand through her wet hair. “Course I’m no’ deid. Why would I be? Though I’ve been thrown into the back of a pick-up, kidnapped and nearly drowned, which are serious criminal offences, by the way, hen. You’re going to be in such bother when I tell the polis.”
Lewis stood dumbly, staring at his friend. He was so glad to see her.
“I… I thought you’d been shot,” he stammered. “I thought you’d been killed.”
“I told you, I’m fine. Where’s Sneachda? The poor beast must be shattered.”
He saw her looking around for the unicorn, eyes raking the darkness.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
Ailsa gave a shriek of frustration. “Of course she’s gone! What did you expect, that she’d hang around to say thank you? All that work, all the time it took to trap those beasts, and you two brats have ruined everything.”
“Yeah, that was the plan. Sneachda will be miles away now. Lewis is a flamin’ hero.”
Lewis was about to point out that he was no such thing, and that provoking Ailsa was a terrible idea, when Rhona kicked out with her heavy boot and sent Ailsa’s torch spinning through the air. It smacked against a pine tree. His world went dark.
Rhona grabbed his hand. “Run, Lewis!”
And they ran, out of the clearing, back into the dense forest, stumbling over tree roots, scattering leaves. As he changed through the darkness, Lewis was again aware of shadowy shapes among the trees, thudding hooves, the occasional whinny.
Rhona slowed to a jog, panting for breath. “I think I’m goin’ to spew… I can’t run another step… I’m dying… Lewis, stop a moment.”
He didn’t want to stop. Adrenalin was coursing through him. But he couldn’t go without Rhona.
So he stopped, stood still, listened.
Unicorns were close by. He could hear the soft thump of hooves, snorting breaths.
Moonlight filtered through the slender branches of birch trees and silvered the grey coat of a unicorn only a few metres away. The animal’s head was held high, nostrils quivering as it sniffed the air. Then it moved off at a brisk trot.
Lewis brought out his torch, gave it a hard shake. The beam flickered, became a faint, but steady glow. He spun round, shining the torch on bushes and trees, searching for signs of life until the beam rested on a tall pine.
At its base lay Sneachda, and she wasn’t alone.
Her body was curled protectively round a small, dark shape. Lewis’s torch beam glinted on the foal’s silk coat, its closed eyes and its tiny spiralled horn. His stomach knotted as he realised the baby wasn’t moving.
Sneachda was licking the foal with her long tongue.
“What’s wrong with it?” The words caught in Lewis’s throat, choked him. Was the foal not going to live?
But as they watched, the mare arched her neck and bent her head. The tip of her iridescent horn touched the foal’s body, once, twice, three times. For a long moment, the baby didn’t respond; but then it gave a little cough, opened its eyes and kicked its skinny legs.
“Aw, man,” said Lewis, tears stinging his eyes. “Sneachda’s baby’s fine.”
Rhona crouched down beside him. “Well spotted, Lewis. Good observational skills. You get ten out of ten this time.”
Her words were as snarky as ever, but Lewis heard the tremor in her voice, and knew she’d been scared too.
The baby’s mother looked up at them and seemed to relax. She lowered her long lashes, licked the baby with her massive tongue. The baby curled beside its mother, nuzzling, looking for milk.
Rhona spoke to the unicorn directly. “Well done, hen! Congratulations. You’ve got a beautiful wean there.”
The unicorn tossed her head, her mane shimmering in the moonlight.
The baby kicked its spindly legs, made tiny huffing sounds. Then it scrambled up on to its feet, wobbly as Bambi. could feel a huge, stupid grin spread across his face. The baby unicorn was the most enchanting little creature he’d ever seen in his life. It wobbled around on its skittery limbs, its silvery coat smooth as silk.
Rhona’s grin was enormous too. She was bouncing like a manic wallaby.
“Aw, she’s adorable! Would it be OK if I gave her a wee pat?” She was talking to the unicorn.
“Rhona, we need to go,” he said. “We need to get out of this forest.”
Because somewhere in the darkness, Ailsa was still tracking her prey.
26
Rhona
A male voice called out, and the tiny hairs on Rhona’s neck rose. She could hear the heavy tread of boots, the thud getting louder as the person approached. Her eye
s darted in all directions, but she knew they were too late to run.
“Who’s there?”
Lewis swung his dodgy torch in the direction of the voice and Rhona recognised the tall, gangly figure in jeans and wax jacket coming through the trees towards them.
“It’s Alex McAllister,” she hissed, standing in front of the unicorn and her foal, arms outstretched protectively. “You’ll take them over my deid body!” she roared. “Come one step nearer and I’ll… I’ll nut you!”
Alex kept coming. As he drew nearer, she could see his face, creased in astonishment. He shone his torch at her, dazzling her.
“What on earth are you kids doing here in the middle of the night?” He pointed at Rhona. “I know you. You were at the storytelling session at the Outdoor Centre. You asked me about the condition that the Winter Queen set, wanted to know what happened to Dubhar.”
In her head, Rhona could hear the almost reverential tone Alex had used when describing Dubhar’s courage and sacrifice. But could they trust him, when Ailsa was his sister?
Lewis stepped forward. “We could ask you the same question. And we know all about the unicorn project, so there’s no point telling us any lies. Rhona and I released the unicorns from the stockade.”
It was the second time that night that Rhona had seen someone’s jaw drop. Alex’s eyes were wide with surprise. Then he chuckled.
“Did you now! Well done, you two. I’ve been up here all night, checking that they all got back to Whindfall safely, and I’m guessing they have, as this place seems to be teeming with them. It’s just as well I mean the unicorns no harm or I’d be a dead man. But you still haven’t explained why you’re here in the forest.”
It wasn’t my idea to come here,” growled Rhona. “Ailsa kidnapped me. I don’t mean to be cheeky, an’ I know you two are related, but that lassie’s meaner than Cruella De Vil.”
In the torchlight, Rhona could see a worried frown settle on Alex’s face. “My sister’s in the forest? Has she actually entered Whindfall?”
“Yeah, and I hope she’s got well lost. We’re lookin’ after the wean.” Rhona stepped aside and Lewis directed his torch beam at Sneachda.
A huge smile spread across Alex’s face. “Oh, my goodness, look at that. The foal’s a wee beauty. But how did the mare get up here? Did my uncle bring her?”
Rhona and Lewis looked at each other, unsure how far to trust him. Alex scanned their faces, must have seen the doubt in their eyes.
“None of this was my idea, I swear it. Ailsa never told me what she was up to and neither did Uncle Donald. It was only when I came back to Langcroft permanently that Ailsa revealed their plans. I was horrified, believe me.”
Lewis snorted. “Not horrified enough. You should have gone to the police.”
Alex gave a rueful laugh. “You’re forgetting unicorns are considered to be mythical creatures. If I’d told the authorities that they actually exist, the Whindfall unicorns wouldn’t have stayed secret for long. The whole world would have come to visit. My uncle and I have talked non-stop about what’s best for them. I’m glad I managed to persuade him to abandon the project.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t talk your sister round, did you?” Rhona spoke more angrily than she’d intended. “Your uncle might have been going to let the mare go, but Ailsa was planning to steal her horn and the foal’s.”
“We rescued them all.” There was no mistaking the pride in Lewis’s voice.
“You’ve done an excellent job, getting all the unicorns home.” There was real respect in Alex’s tone. “Whindfall has been the unicorns’ refuge for centuries. They’re home now and need to be left in peace. We need to get out of the forest.”
“Specially Ailsa,” said Rhona, remembering Alex’s worried look. “You think she’s in danger, don’t you, because of Beira’s curse? Remember the legend, Lewis? Nobody who enters the forest intending to harm a unicorn will live to see winter.”
Alex nodded. “Ailsa has never ventured into the forest before. She’s never dared.”
Behind them, someone hissed like a snake.
“Well I’ve dared now.” Ailsa stepped out of the darkness, her shotgun raised.
27
Lewis
Lewis’s insides turned to liquid. He’d thought they’d made it. They even had adult help now. But what good was that against an armed maniac?
“You were pathetically easy to track,” she said with a bitter laugh. “And I’m taking that foal back to Langcroft. I’ve not done all this work for nothing. This isn’t one of your stupid fairy tales, Alex. It’s real life, something you’ve never had to bother about. The unicorns were my project and you’ve ruined it. You and Uncle Donald didn’t even bother to consult me about ending it. It makes me sick that you always get your own way.”
Alex sighed. “Don’t be daft, Ailsa. Can’t you see that what you were doing was wrong? The unicorns don’t—”
“Oh shut up! I’m sick of listening to you drone on about how special unicorns are! They’re just wild animals, like deer. Deer get shot and nobody whines about it, do they? I can shoot unicorns if I want to. Watch me!” She pulled the trigger, firing wildly into the woods.
“Ailsa! Stop it! You’ll hurt somebody!” Alex shouted.
Lewis stared through the trees, and he saw them.
When he spoke, his voice sounded scratchy with fear, even to himself. “I think we need to leave. Now. Right now.” He gestured with his torch.
No matter where the beam fell, it spotlit another unicorn. A massive herd was heading through the trees towards them. The night air drummed with a dark, unpredictable beat.
Something terrible is going to happen.
“Oh jeez,” whispered Rhona. “These guys aren’t happy.”
All around them, huge, majestic unicorns were pawing at the ground, jerking their heads, snorting. Clouds of steam billowed from their nostrils. Some were midnight-black, hardly visible, others grey as shadows or gleaming snow-white in the torchlight. All had huge spiralling horns sharp as spears. As they came nearer, Lewis could feel their anger, radiating like heat.
Alex grabbed him by the shoulder, he took Rhona’s hand, they started to run, dodging between the trees. Alex pulled Ailsa along too, but she struggled, determined to get free. Lewis glanced behind. The unicorns weren’t charging; they were moving at a steady trot, gaining on them slowly but steadily.
Perhaps they have no intention of attacking. Maybe they’re just trying to persuade us to leave them alone.
Alex was puffing at his side, getting slower with every step. Lewis took the lead. Then he saw her: snow-bright Sneachda was trotting ahead, and her baby, already much steadier on her feet, was stepping along at her side.
“This way!” he shouted to the others, and they followed the white unicorn and her foal, guiding them out of Whindfall Forest. The herd followed slowly, making sure the humans left.
They’d reached the forest perimeter, the line of tall Scots pine. Lewis could glimpse the Land Rover, and Alex’s Range Rover some distance away. Sneachda stopped, shaking her mane and tossing her head.
At that moment, Ailsa jerked her arm back and pulled away from Alex.
“I’m not going back empty-handed!” she yelled, spitting rage. She ran straight for the baby unicorn.
For a moment, Lewis was paralysed with shock. Then he screamed, “Ailsa, no! Leave the baby alone! Run, Ailsa, run!”
But he was too late. There was nothing any of them could do but stare in horror as the beautiful snow-white unicorn lowered her head and got ready to charge. Ailsa had almost reached the foal when Sneachda thumped her hooves against the ground and gave a snort of fury. The girl stopped dead, realising what Sneachda was about to do. Spinning round, she started to run for her life, her eyes swivelling frantically as she searched for somewhere to hide.
“Climb a tree!” bawled Alex.
Ailsa must have heard him, because she raced towards a massive beech, but she never reached it. A sudden wind w
histled through the trees; high branches creaked. It seemed to Lewis as if the whole forest was closing in on Ailsa and leaving her no escape. In the shadow of the trees, unicorns were stamping their hooves, an ominous drumbeat signalling her doom.
It happened so fast that later Lewis would only remember a blur: a terrible crack, the huge branch breaking off the beech tree, spinning as it fell, the awful thud, and Ailsa’s body sprawled, lifeless, on the bracken.
Rhona’s hand shot to her mouth. “Oh… oh no.”
Lewis stood, slack-jawed, glued to the spot. The white unicorn tossed her mane and whinnied at her baby. The little one walked towards her, head held high, and together they trotted off into the forest. As Lewis gawped, the other unicorns slowly backed off, melting away into the trees, until it was as if he’d imagined they’d been there.
28
Rhona
Rhona sat down on a tree stump, put her head in her hands and sobbed. She’d loathed Ailsa, but seeing her felled by that massive branch was horrible.
Lewis crouched beside her, his face streaked with tears. “Alex has phoned for an air ambulance. He looks shattered.”
“Ailsa’s death,” she whispered. “Do you think it was an accident or the curse of Whindfall?”
For a long moment, Lewis stayed silent. When he spoke, it sounded as though he was picking his words with care. “I didn’t know anything about a curse. But remember that sign in the forest at Langcroft? ‘Beech trees are susceptible to sudden branch drop’.”
Alex came over, his face ashen. He gestured behind them. “I’ve rolled the branch and covered her body with a blanket from the car. The air ambulance will be here shortly.”
Guardians of the Wild Unicorns Page 12
