by Peter David
She put her hands on her hips and said with obvious impatience, “How am I going to be able to ride a unicorn if I stay up there?”
I felt a pounding starting in my temple that I had become all too familiar with since making the princess’s acquaintance. “Are you insane!” I demanded, already knowing the answer. She did not bother to make a response, instead simply walked away from me with a shrug of her shoulders as if I was not worth a moment of her time.
I had no choice. I swung my legs over the edge of the rise and slid down as quickly as I could. Dirt and small pebbles tumbled around me and I halted my fall using my lame right leg because the last thing I wanted to do was risk damaging the good left one. I used my staff to haul myself up and made off quickly after her. She was approaching the herd with a bold stride, her chin upraised and her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Princess,” I said with a desperate urgency that I did not remotely have to fake. “Princess, this is ill advised. Unicorns or not, they remain wild animals, and such creatures tend to be rather territorial. A stranger marching into their midst—”
“I am no stranger,” she said airily. “I am a princess of the blood royal. My place in the world of the unicorn is assured.” She slowed ever so slightly to allow me to catch up. “We are going to do something that will be the stuff of legends, squire.”
“We will?” I liked the sound of this less and less.
“Yes. I am going to find us the right unicorn. And I will mount it and ride it straight to Fort Terracote. It will carry me there on its pure white back—white, Apropos, it has to be white. None of these brown or green ones.”
“So noted. Entipy—”
“And it will hold its beautiful head high, and its horn will glow,” she continued, caught up in her fantasy. “And all will see me coming, and my father will feel ashamed that he ever thought to send me away.”
“That’s a charming scenario.” We were drawing uncomfortably close to the herd. Some of the unicorns were taking note of us, their tails whipping around in what I feared was agitation. “Now allow me to offer an alternative: You walk up to a unicorn, try to exercise your influence, and the skittish animal runs you through with its horn.”
“That could never happen. Unicorn horns have the power to cure.”
“So I hear … provided you grind them up and use them properly. Having neither a grinder nor knowledge of proper procedures, I’d rather not take my chances.”
“You are a squire, Apropos. If you are ever to become Sir Apropos, you will have to learn to take chances.”
“Not with the life of the princess,” I said tautly. Which was true enough. I reached for her, ready to sling her over my shoulder and haul her out of there if necessary, but she increased her speed and dodged my efforts. She even let out a curt laugh, as if the entire thing were a game. “These things are unpredictable, Entipy!” I reminded her. “They could kill you … !”
“To die … at the hooves or horns of creatures as beautiful as these …” Her eyes widened at the exciting thought. “How glorious would that be?”
Such words as these did nothing to lighten my mood. There was nothing romantic about suicide, and that’s where I was worried this was going. “Not as glorious as living to tell people what we witnessed here today. Let’s go, now. N—”
“Apropos,” she said, her voice firm, “I’m going to do this.”
“But you have to be a—” I stopped.
She looked at me, curious. “I have to be a what?”
I licked my lips, my voice suddenly feeling very raspy. “Well … you have to be … you know …”
“No, I don’t know.” I wondered if she was going to make me say it just to watch me be uncomfortable.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Well … you know … a virg … a virg …”
“Virgin?” There was thick sarcasm in her voice. “Number one, that is an old wives’ tale. And number two … what are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything.”
“Yes, you are. You’re saying I’m not a virgin.”
“No, I’m not.” I was trying to cover as fast as I could. “I was just, uhm … reminding you that you had to be one.”
“Why would you have to remind me of that? If you believed me to be one, then you would think that my status would guarantee safe passage. The only possible reason you would feel the need to bring it up is a belief that I am not. And I am, frankly, a bit insulted.”
“I’m just suggesting caution, that’s all. I—”
“You think I can’t do it.” There was rising ire in her voice. I felt as if the ground around me were turning to sand, sucking me down, even though it was beautiful and green and harmless. “You think I’m not a virgin and that I’m not up to the challenge. Well, I’ll show you …”
“You don’t have to show me anything!”
Obviously, though, she felt she did, because she quickened her pace all the more. She was making a beeline toward one particular unicorn. She certainly had picked out a remarkable-looking one. It was indeed purest white, and the sparkles in its mane almost made it look as if light was pouring out from the creature’s immortal soul. It was watching her with those soulful eyes. I wondered how many sights the unicorn had seen in its lifetime, how many foolish maidens had tried to approach it. It tilted its head slightly, watching Entipy as if she were a mad little thing … which she was.
She slowed ever so slightly as she drew near. The unicorn took a step back and gave a faint, musical whinny that sounded more than anything like a warning. It had not lowered its horn as if to charge, but it certainly didn’t seem enthused about seeing her. Entipy was making soft “chuk chuk” noises as she got within range of the beast. I noticed that Entipy and the one unicorn were not exactly operating independently of the rest of the world. Every unicorn in the vicinity was now watching the scenario play out. I wondered how they were going to react if it didn’t play out in a manner to their liking.
“Hellooooo,” said Entipy softly. She kept both her hands flat and open, palms up, so that the unicorn could see for itself that she was unarmed. “Apropos … what do you think it is? A girl or a boy?”
“Neither. It’s a damned horse, and I mislike this whole thing. It stinks of magic and I’d sooner we were anywhere but here.”
“We will be, I told you. We’re going to ride them to Terracote.”
Now that I was a bit closer (already closer than I liked) I could see that there was even hair on the horns themselves. It was such a light color as to be almost invisible, but it was there nevertheless.
I was getting a very uneasy feeling about the entire business, because a number of the unicorns were looking at me, or at least it seemed as if they were. All I could dwell upon at that point was Tacit’s saying that he had been raised by unicorns. What if he’d been telling the truth? Not only that … but what if it had been these unicorns? What if one of them had actually suckled him? What if … what if they knew what I had done?
I could feel those stormy blue eyes burrowing into me, and the more I wanted to clear my mind of my assaulting Tacit, the more it seemed to rise to the forefront. Could they read minds? Smell guilt feelings? I had no way of knowing; these were magical creatures, to be sure. They were capable of just about anything.
“Entipy,” I said slowly, not taking my eyes off the great beasts who were not taking their eyes off me, “these are not captive show creatures in a traveling circus. These are wild animals, out in the wild. We are on their turf, in a very uncontrolled situation, and anything can happen. And a goodly number of those anythings would be counterproductive to our continued health.”
She wasn’t listening. Part of me was hoping that one of them would just run her through and get it over with. The suspense was killing me. She was almost up to the unicorn that she had selected for the questionable honor of being her mount. The horse wasn’t backing up at that point. Why should it be? It had a sizable number of friends to serve as support agai
nst a single unarmed girl. Entipy was continuing to make those clucking noises, causing her to sound like an overlarge chicken, interspersed with such useful comments as “Here, unicorn. Nice unicorn. Pretty pretty unicorn.”
Then, with an extremely credible display of horsemanship, Entipy snagged a handful of the unicorn’s mane and swung herself expertly onto its back before it could offer protest. She straddled it, looked triumphantly over at me, and started to call out “See?!” right before the unicorn threw her into the air.
I should have let her just hit the ground. It might have jolted some sense into her. Instead I stupidly bolted toward her and lunged for her. She crashed into me, sending us both to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. I felt a soreness in my chest and fingered my ribs, hoping that the impact hadn’t broken one.
“I’m all right! I’m all right!” Entipy said, disentangling herself from me.
“I don’t care!” I shot back grumpily, sitting up. “That was a damned fool thing to do.”
“I am a princess,” she said haughtily. “I do what I like.”
“If what you ‘like’ is to get your fool neck broken, keep right on doing it because you were well on your way. You’d probably have done it by now if I hadn’t caught you.”
She regarded me thoughtfully and crouched beside me. Her face softened. “Yes. You did, didn’t you. That was sweet.”
The smell of lilacs was making me feel light-headed. I wondered if it was having the same effect on her. Then, before I could stop her, she wrapped an arm around the back of my head and kissed me passionately. I felt myself being carried away by the moment, and I returned the kiss with passion of my own, taking her into my arms. I felt giddy, intoxicated. For just a moment, all my concerns about her being unpredictable and untrustworthy faded away, and I felt something deep and profound within me … as if, impossibly, in this hard and cynical world, I had found a genuine soul mate. A part of myself I didn’t even know I was missing. All that from one ardor-charged kiss.
The unicorn let out a whinny, and it was not musical, and it was not alone, because the lot of them chorused in.
We broke off and I looked at them, my eyes wide with alarm. I could no longer make out which unicorn had been the one that Entipy had been endeavoring to mount, because they were now clustered together. More and more of them were coming in from all sides, advancing. Their tails were no longer swishing back and forth in leisurely fashion. Instead they were straight back or straight down, tense and quivering with what I could only interpret as rage.
Oh, gods, they do know, the frantic thought went through my head. They know what I did … they know that I shouldn’t be here. Unicorns were, as noted, magical. They were true creatures of destiny and, therefore, must have had some clear idea of how destiny was to be shaped. And here came I, Apropos, who had usurped the rightful place of the unicorn-bred hero of the story, flaunting that craven triumph in their faces. Little wonder they weren’t exactly happy with me at that moment.
Entipy didn’t understand any of that. “It was just a kiss, you horned prudes!” she said in irritation as we got to our feet. “He saved me! He’s …” Caught up in the moment, she took my hand in hers. “He’s my hero.”
And then went up a sound of pure fury such as I’d never heard and hope never to hear again. The sea of white was advancing on us like a great wave. I looked in the direction from which we’d come, but we were cut off, the herd having moved across it. It seemed that every single unicorn in the herd had now made us the complete and undivided focus of their attention.
From directly behind us I felt a gust of cold air. It was an area more toward the mountain passes, bereft of grass, and so the unicorns had focused their energies, or charms, or whatever you would call it on that particular piece of land. The path to it seemed clear, which was fortunate, because if we’d been surrounded on all sides we wouldn’t have had a prayer. As it was, I wasn’t giving our chances great odds.
Even Entipy was now fully aware that we were in serious trouble. Those blue eyes of the unicorns, as beautiful as they’d been to look at while they were relaxed, were terrifying to see in anger. Entipy’s gaze was riveted by them, and all her high-flown words about what it would be like to die at the hooves of the mythic beasts flew right away. “I think … we’d better leave,” she said slowly.
I was already backing up, not removing my gaze from them. “I couldn’t agree more. On the count of three—”
“No,” she said sharply. “Don’t run.”
She put an arm around my waist. This gesture seemed to incense the closest unicorns, and they actually reared up and pawed the ground.
“I think they want us out of here as quickly as possible,” I told her.
“I read in a book about unicorns: Never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention.”
“We’ve already got their damned attention.”
“Just … do as I do.” She took a deep breath to steady herself and then turned her back to the unicorns and proceeded to walk in a calm, unhurried manner. As much as I wanted to bolt, I couldn’t bring myself to flee and leave her behind. Besides, with my lame leg, I don’t know how fast I could have gone anyway.
So I walked next to her, maintaining as much dignity as I could. The way ahead of us, toward the mountains, remained clear. The herd had converged behind us, apparently not trying to cut us off from departing. We weren’t going the way I wanted to go, unfortunately. We were leaving the road behind, heading toward a far more hazardous path, but I didn’t see much choice. Still, we weren’t completely out of options. We might be able to double back around the unicorn grazing area. And, at the very least, I had the map, so I might be able to locate us again provided I could find a decent landmark.
One step after another, and even though we weren’t looking at them, I could sense the eyes of every one of the beasts upon us. But at least it seemed that they were going to let us go. I thanked the gods for that, and even began to chide myself that I’d let my imagination run was wild as I had. Thinking that somehow they were able to read my mind and know what I had done to their favorite son. It was, really, the height of absurdity to attribute that much insight to dumb animals, magical or no.
“That,” I breathed, once I started to feel that we were a safe distance, “was close. Good advice there, about the walking.”
“Thank you for trusting me,” she said. “I know it’s not easy for you to trust anyone. I’m honored.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And by the way … you kiss very well.”
And she reached over and actually grabbed my ass, giving it an affectionate squeeze and causing me to jump slightly.
The unicorns went berserk.
As one, an infuriated bellow was ripped from their collective throats like damned souls in hell. Our heads whipped around just in time to see that the lot of them had lowered their horns, and they were charging.
Obviously, they’d noticed us.
“Run!” I screamed. Suddenly all the lameness of my leg was completely forgotten as Entipy and I bolted. The unicorns were a fair distance behind us, but they were closing the gap rapidly as we ran as fast as we could down the mountain pass. The incline was sharp, the footing uncertain, but the need to flee was great. Entipy was clutching my free hand tightly as I used the staff as never before to propel me along.
The ground rumbled beneath the pounding hooves of the unicorns, and we ran like mad. We ran as if our lives depended upon it, which they most certainly did, because the unicorns were not stopping, and if they caught up with us, we would be pulp beneath their hooves in no time at all.
Part of me viewed the scene almost as if my spirit had left my body. I could see, in my mind’s eye, the sea of white, with dots of brown and green, converging upon us and, in many ways, it was a thing of beauty. No, of joy. Creatures of myth, creatures of legend, creatures of power, moving as one, their manes shimmering, their hooves flashing. If one was able to see it perched safely
atop a mountain, one would find oneself weeping in joy at being able to see such a sight.
As for me, I was weeping in terror. I could practically feel the horns running me through, the hooves trampling me. The ground trembled all the more, and Entipy and I took turns, her dragging me, me dragging her. “Run! Run!” I kept shouting unnecessarily. Entipy stumbled, her dress ripping, and I yanked her to her feet as if she was weightless and kept going.
The unicorns were closing. We had no hope. For one wild moment I entertained the notion of trying to leap to one side or the other, to get out of the way of the stampede, but there was nowhere to go. We were deep into the pass, the mountains looming on either side of us, the rock face too sheer for us to have any hope of getting away. Even the mountains themselves seemed to be trembling in fear as the unicorn herd descended upon us. And worst of all, they were bringing that same damned smell of lilacs with them. I was going to be gored and crushed while sniffing flowers. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and settled for shrieking in terror. It was a most unmanly sound and probably would have lost me Entipy’s respect, had she been able to hear me over the deafening pounding.
That was when a huge chunk of ice and snow struck the ground directly in front of us. We dodged around it, and then another struck, and another, and we were leaping to one side and the other automatically, without thinking about what was happening. The thunder of the unicorns had not abated, and then more pieces of ice fell, and more, like a great rain, and then I thought, It can’t be, because it sounded to me as if the stampede was slowing. I chanced a glance around and yes, it was true, it was gloriously true, the unicorns were breaking off their pursuit.
“We’re saved!” cried out Entipy, who had seen the same thing.
Except …
… except the rumbling hadn’t stopped.
… except it had … but had been replaced. What I was hearing and feeling now was not the concentrated thudding of hundreds of hooves. Instead it was something deeper, even more profound, as if we were trapped inside of a thunderhead. The rumbling was no longer originating from behind us; instead it was all around us, above, below, and the chunks of snow were getting bigger, one of them striking me a glancing blow.
