The Conspiracy of Unicorns

by Michael Angel

  My head agreed with Galen. Pressing the issue here and now would at the very least annoy the leadership of these two guilds. Worse, it could set them actively against us.

  But I didn’t listen only to my head anymore. My gut knew what my head hadn't figured out yet. Someone here knew a lot more than they were willing to share.

  We were still operating in the dark when it came to so much. And in the past months, the pace of events hadn’t stopped or slowed down. They’d sped up. They’d taken on lives of their own. Battles had been joined, peoples wiped out, allies lost.

  I thought of King Angbor’s fall.

  King Fitzwilliam’s poisoning.

  Queen Nagura’s words. Now is the time for the reckoning.

  I thought of Isabel Vega as her life ebbed away in the rain.

  No, we couldn’t let this lie. We couldn’t keep flying blind anymore.

  I shook my head. “I can’t accept this, Galen. We’re going to see this ‘Deliberation’ whether they like it or not. And we’re going right now.”

  Liam stamped a cloven forehoof in agreement with a clack as Grimshaw let out a low, eager caw. Galen nodded wearily, as if he’d expected my answer.

  “Then so it shall be, Dayna,” the Wizard conceded, as he turned to the right. Towards the hall of the Wizard’s Guild. “It seems that we shall be forcing the issue.”

  “No, you shall not!” Fiona’s voice boomed off the high ceiling. “We have rules!”

  On cue, the desk clerks scurried for cover. The students reading texts behind the counter dove under the tables. And the Lead Archivist came around the desk to stand in our way. A rustling sound came from the rooms we’d passed. At least a dozen of the blue-robed students and red-robed instructors came to stand at her side. They didn’t carry any visible weapons, but they held their hands free and at the ready.

  “Galen?” I asked quietly. The centaur moved to my side, his palms already aglow with magical energy. “What do you think?”

  “The students likely know only cantrips. Pittance spells. More annoying than harmful,” he said grimly. “But the instructors know magic at close to my level. That may be troublesome.”

  “All right then,” I said as I raised my voice. Liam lowered his antlers and Shaw let out a leonine growl. “Know this, Lead Archivist. I have a wizard, a fayleene, and a griffin. You have your rules. Now, try and enforce them.”

  Chapter Ten

  Three red-robed instructors took their places towards the rear of the hastily assembled mob. Lead Archivist Fiona stood among them. Nine more blue-robed students remained at the front. The members of the Wizard’s Guild each raised their hands. Their palms glittered with collected magical energy at the ready.

  “Not only shall I enforce our rules,” Fiona announced sternly, “But I shall execute them. Guild members, expel the intruders!”

  As one, the robed members of the guild began to move towards us.

  I really didn’t want to start a fight with a bunch of people who knew magic. That just had ‘bad idea’ all over it. But I did have an advantage in that I’d watched Galen and Magnus perform their magic, up close. They needed concentration to choose, speak, and direct their spells.

  And I had just the thing to break that concentration.

  I whipped my gun out, aimed straight up, and squeezed the trigger again and again. Each shot echoed like thunder in the high-ceilinged space as the bullets buried themselves in one of the roof’s wooden support beams. I’d pulled this same trick once before, when the Lead Does of the fayleene were threatening our lives. Only this time, the effects were more spectacular.

  The guild members either froze in shock or quailed at the explosive sound of my firearm. Some of their accumulated spell energy simply winked out in a series of rainbow-sheened plorps! But the rest zig-zagged uncontrollably through the air like magical shrapnel.

  Galen swung an arm down and shouted out a single-word incantation, deflecting a magical bolt off to his side. The energy smacked into the nearest of the hallway’s marble statues, neatly lopping off its head.

  Liam hopped over a second lightning-like flash that blackened the floor. He lowered his head and charged, bulldozing the four robed figures to his front. I ducked as I sensed more than saw another blast of magic ripple towards me. My hair stood on end and I felt as if I’d grabbed a live electrical wire. I shook my head as my nose stung with the smell of bleach, and my mouth tingled the tang of peroxide.

  Shaw let out a squawk! as he shoved his way in front of me, shielding me with his golden-furred flank. He unfurled one wing partway, knocking two more of the guild members off their feet. He then back-handed another pair with his massive griffin paw, stunning them.

  Galen reared up, his forehooves churning the air. He waved one hand in a circle as he shouted, “Nunc se! Dormitem!”

  I recognized the Wizard’s words. They were a variant of the magical phrase he’d used on the Ultari in Los Angeles. Of the remaining half-dozen guild members, three turned and ran while the last trio stood their ground. While we watched all six dropped to the hard floor, fast asleep.

  “I have another quartet here,” Liam called, from where he’d pinned his quarry against the wall with his twelve-point rack. “They could use the same treatment.”

  “Agreed,” came the reply, and nunc se dormitem rang out a second time. Liam stepped back and let the men slide limply to the floor.

  “Art thou well, Dayna?” Shaw inquired, as Galen stepped past him to cast the same sleep spell one more time on the griffin’s opponents.

  “I’m…fine,” I said, as the dizziness finally vanished, along with the awful taste and smell blotting out my senses. “At least I think I am. Whatever I got hit with, it’s gone now.”

  Galen trotted up and gave me a onceover. “That was a student’s cantrip. As I intimated just prior to our action, these low-level spells are more laughable than lethal. Perhaps it misfired.”

  Shaw let out a dissatisfied grunt. “‘Twas hardly a contest. As a group, thy wizard friends were better at running than brawling.”

  “Those were acolytes and their mentors,” I cautioned, as I holstered my gun. “I have a feeling that the senior wizards who make up the Deliberation won’t be nearly so easy to deal with.”

  That got a snort out of the last person standing. At least, the last one who was still standing and wearing robes. Lead Archivist Fiona fairly glowered at us.

  “Easy? You may have beaten some of the guild’s members, but you shan’t get past the Deliberati’s doors!”

  I pushed past the frazzled archivist. One of the older, red-robed men let out a blissful snore from where he lay sprawled in a heap on the floor. Liam, Shaw and Galen pushed or kicked the remaining sleepers up against the walls, so no one would step on them. Then they joined me at the end of the short corridor.

  A squat set of double doors stood before us. Iron-banded hunks of oak made up each door, while an ornate silver lock glimmered where the two met. A barely-audible hum rose from the thing, making my hair stand on end. Liam sniffed at the lock while Galen held a hand up, murmuring another incantation under his breath. Shaw gave a ‘harrumph’ and slunk off back down the hall.

  “That’s no illusion,” Liam pronounced, as he wrinkled his nose. “Solid oak. No telling how thick it is. But it’s a strange variety, from a forest I’ve never scented before.”

  “The lock is imbued with incredibly powerful wards,” Galen said, with a nervous clack of a forehoof. “Lethally powerful, at that. I’m not at all sure that my magic can suppress it, let alone remove it.”

  Fiona cackled from behind us. “And they’ll remain so long as the lock is in place, centaur! There is nothing that you can use to pick it, or magically persuade it to–”

  Shaw’s voice cut her off. “Move to one side, if thou doth wish to avoid being crushed!”

  Fiona scrambled out of the way as Shaw came lumbering past. The griffin had the recently decapitated marble statue gripped under one furry forelimb. Liam,
Galen and I quickly moved to make space for the drake as he arrived.

  Shaw shifted his grip to grasp the stone figure in both forepaws. Then with a mighty swing, he hurled the statue at the doors. With a KA-WHAM! the wood splintered into kindling. The silver lock spun in midair and clanked as it hit the floor. The magically generated background hum fizzled out with a pathetic foop.

  I gave my griffin friend an impressed look.

  “Thou art in luck, Dayna,” Shaw remarked. “I found the key.”

  “So I see,” I said, grinning.

  Galen ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Let us proceed, then. I am quite sure that the Deliberati heard us knock.”

  The centaur wizard went through the makeshift entryway first, even as his equine tail swished worriedly back and forth. Liam squeezed in beside me, holding his antlers protectively in front of us as we followed. Shaw threw a last baleful glare at Fiona, silently warning the archivist to not come any further, and then joined us.

  Soft, warm light and the nose-scouring scent of frankincense greeted us as we entered. The chamber of the Deliberati had been built as a perfect circle. A single star-shaped skylight punctuated the wide dome stretching overhead. Each pane in the star window threw a different color upon the floor’s plush round carpet.

  The room itself was empty of furniture, save for the statuary punctuating a series of alcoves along the far half of the room. Each alcove contained a single marble bust of an elderly man or woman. Whoever the artist had been, they’d done a remarkable job. Every head had been carved to look lifelike, even incorporating the faint blue and gold lines in the marble as tiny veins against white stone skin.

  I only noticed the level of craftsmanship later. That was after I’d gotten over the shock of hearing the busts talk. Their lips didn’t move, nor did the heads swivel eerily upon their bases. But the effect of the voices coming from each bust was creepy enough for me, thank you.

  “Intruders!” a deep male voice said, from one of the alcoves on the end. “How dare you breach our inner sanctum!”

  “I mean no disrespect,” Galen said as he quickly bowed. “My friends and I seek your council at a time of great need.”

  “Silence!” This came from another, weedier looking bust of a woman. “We need not hear the words of one such as you. The centaur who shall change one of his friends for the worse!”

  “I shall change–” Galen exclaimed, but he was cut off as other voices chimed in from several more heads.

  “Why, look who the centaur has brought! The griffin with the spotted flank!”

  “And the fayleene one thought was dead but still lives!”

  “Oh my, and they saved the best for last. They’re led by the Dame who is destined to fail at the end!”

  I hardly had time to process what the Deliberati were chortling over before Shaw’s voice gritted in my ear.

  “I mislike these ‘wizards’, Dayna. First, they hide behind books of rules. Then doors of wood. Now, thy foes hide behind faces of stone.”

  I nodded and set my jaw as I stepped forward.

  “That’s enough!” I shouted, and the voices went silent. “I am Dame Chrissie of the Royal Court of Andeluvia, and I demand that you show yourselves!”

  A pause. Then the first voice spoke up again.

  “We take orders from none,” it said dryly. “Leave us! Else be forever damned!”

  Liam stepped up with a clack of his hooves. “I am the Protector of the Forest. I fear no damnation from you, for you still wear your masks!”

  Shaw let out a growl. “Thou knowest nothing of what I have done in the service of mine own aerie. Being damned wouldst be a step up for one such as I!”

  Galen clenched his fists. “And I am the only wizard who has stayed true to Andeluvia, the kingdom that has sheltered you. I fear no damnation, and at Dame Chrissie’s word, I am ready to force the issue.”

  I turned to look at each bust in turn as I spoke.

  “One last time. Show yourselves or else.”

  There was no reply.

  “Galen. The word is given.”

  The centaur braced himself on all four hooves as he pointed towards the nearest bust.

  “Hóski, seydir!” he cried.

  Blue lightning ran down his arm and leaped from the tip of his finger. A bang! and both the stone head and a chunk of the wall behind it turned into sprays of gravel.

  The busts remained silent.

  I drew my gun and walked forward. Holding my breath, I pushed through the choking cloud of dust hanging stubbornly in the air. I stuck my head through the hole in the wall. Another room lay beyond.

  Specifically, an empty room.

  Just my rotten luck.

  Chapter Eleven

  The pneumatic pumps powering the hospital’s sliding glass doors made a low hissing sound. It reminded me of Queen Nagura’s snores. That brought the hint of a smile to my tired face as I walked through the side entrance at First Samaritan.

  The hospital’s walls looked battleship grey in the early dawn light. I’d come in earlier than I usually did to check on the progress made by ‘Fritz William’. Partly because I needed a jump on the paperwork that was literally spilling off my desk at the OME. But the main reason was that I didn’t want to be interrupted by the nurses attending to the King’s ‘Special Bathing Needs’.

  I’d heard male voices the last time I visited. Yet now, as I moved down the hallway, I heard the King laughing. I cast a suspicious glance towards the nurse’s station, which was blessedly empty for the moment. Turning, I pushed my way through into my liege lord’s room.

  Fitzwilliam sat at the edge of his bed, letting his legs dangle to one side. One arm remained hooked to an IV bag, but his nasal cannula and the double set of life monitors had been removed. That alone told me that the hospital felt he was out of immediate danger. The only thing that gave me pause was the still-blotched look of the King’s face from his recent fall.

  Well, that and the fact that Shelly Richardson sat across from him, laughing along with the Andeluvian monarch.

  “Dayna, have your ears been burnin’?” Shelly asked merrily. “We were just about to place bets on when you’d show up.”

  “Alas!” Fitzwilliam sighed. “I would likely have lost that bet. I did not expect to see you until later today, given the requirements of my schedule.”

  “Requirements? What requirements?”

  I cleared my throat. “He’s referring to the ‘Royal Sponge Bath’ at eight.”

  Shelly gave the King a look. “That’s a right strange perk you’re getting, your Majesty.”

  Fitzwilliam’s expression was poker-straight. “Lady Richardson, this ‘perk’ was rather like finding ale in one’s water cup. Unexpected. But warmly welcomed all the same.”

  My friend let out a snort that would have done Shaw justice.

  “Well, if anything, it proves that you’re feeling better again.”

  “Again?” I asked. “What’s been going on? What have I missed?”

  Fitzwilliam raised an eyebrow. “Apparently, I have been ‘back sliding’, whatever that means. The palace surgeons here had stopped actively ‘flushing’ the poison from my system. This proved to be a mistake, as I found that I could not rise from my bed a few hours later.”

  I flushed a bit as I realized why I’d been in the dark about this. This must have taken place during the time I’d neglected to check in with Fitzwilliam for two days in a row. That was when I’d had to deal with a bomb scare at the OME and exorcising an Ultari demon. Then, of course, I’d been busy fighting off assassins from Crossbow Consulting and questions from the LAPD.

  But the fact remained: I hadn’t been there for Fitzwilliam just when his health had turned for the worse.

  “Dayna, I know that look,” Shelly chided me. “Darlin’, you can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “I must second that notion,” Fitzwilliam put in. “I realize that my presence in your world adds an additional heavy burden. Thus, I have
pressed as hard as possible for my release date.”

  “Of course, your Majesty,” I said. “Believe me, everyone from Regent Magnus on down is looking for you to return as soon as possible.”

  “I snooped around a mite on my own,” Shelly confessed. “The docs here went back to flushing his system, but they’re not going to turn him loose for at least another five, maybe six days.”

  That brought a grimace to my face. It was a lot longer than I’d hoped. But as Fitzwilliam himself had told me, returning to his world while he was still physically weak could be a risky proposition. Especially in a land that needed a strong king. However, the kingdom of Andeluvia itself wasn’t looking any sturdier as the darkness approached.

  “Okay, I’m going to have to see what I can work out with Magnus,” I promised. “But he already wants to return to the Centaur Realm. I’m not sure I can change that.”

  “I have complete confidence in your ability to persuade others,” Fitzwilliam said. “And as far as change goes, I find what you’ve done with your hair is…interesting.”

  That made me pause. I’d gotten up so early this morning that I hadn’t even looked in the mirror when I brushed it into place. It probably looked windblown beyond all recognition.

  “Yes, it’s my ‘brink of a nervous breakdown’ look,” I quipped. “It’ll be all the rage soon, I’m sure.”

  “Of that I have no doubt. Now, speak to me of the news from my realm.”

  I started by updating Fitzwilliam about the arrival of Queen Nagura at the palace. The king’s jaw worked uncomfortably at the news that his demesne hadn’t been created by humans. Instead, he ruled from a palace built by an intelligent sub-species of the creature that had put him into the hospital.

  Both he and Shelly listened intently as I spoke about Nagura’s touring of the throne room. I made sure to highlight the fact that Magnus hadn’t given her the freedom to roam at will, let alone claim ownership of anything. Fitzwilliam didn’t say anything to that, but his posture relaxed a degree or two.