“We’re…we’re all glad to be here,” I said, doing my best to be diplomatic. “Are all of you assistants to Master Wayfarer?”
“Us? His assistants?” asked one of the mares. Her coat was creamy white, speckled with black spots. “We have our studies to attend to! Why would we ever dream of assisting him in his appointed tasks?”
“Yes,” Wayfarer murmured. “Why would any of you get off your ever-fattening flanks?”
“I meant no offense,” I said quickly. “I, ah, just figured that since one unicorn helps protect the Everwinter Glade, that the rest of you would pitch in to keep Andeluvia’s elder wizards safe.”
No sooner had the words come out of my mouth than a murmur ran through the assembled equines. It wasn’t a threatening sort of murmur. In fact, it soon gave way to a strange collection of whinnies and outright brays.
I realized that the unicorns were having a belly laugh at my expense.
“Enough with this ridiculousness,” Galen declared. “Will you take us to see those who make up the Deliberation of Wizards, or not?”
One unicorn stopped his whinnying long enough to reply. “Oh, the centaur who shall change one of his friends for the worse wants to ‘meet the Deliberati’.”
“Doubtless we shall hear more entreaties,” another added, with a flick of his tail. “Either from the spotted-flank griffin, or the dead-but-lives fayleene.”
“And of course,” the speckled mare said, “I suppose we should expect some sort of veiled threat from their leader. The one destined to fail at the end.”
My head came up as I heard that. Now, I knew these voices. They’d said the exact same words before.
“I should have figured as much,” I groaned. “I’m already talking to the Deliberation of Wizards, aren’t I?”
“These equines?” Galen breathed. He turned to the unicorns in amazement. “Is this true? Do you creatures make up the bulk of the Deliberati?”
“Nay,” one neighed. “Unicorns do not ‘make up the bulk’ of the Deliberati. We are the Deliberati.”
“Of course they’re the Deliberati,” I said. “Galen, they’ve been the only Deliberati for years, perhaps decades. Maybe even longer. That’s why there are no more senior human wizards to step up and defend Andeluvia. That’s why neither you nor Magnus have been recognized as Archmage-level wizards. It’s even why your application to that rank was turned down.”
Galen blinked in surprise. “It is?”
“‘Tis quite the claim,” Shaw admitted.
“Are you sure of this, Dayna?” Liam asked. “What are you seeing here?”
I nodded firmly. “Oh, I’m quite sure. I’m seeing a conspiracy to consolidate power amongst the members of a single species. That much is as plain as day. The only question is…why?”
The periwinkle-colored unicorn was the first to speak this time.
“If we unicorns wore hats, I would tip mine to you. Your mind works like lightning, striking fast and illuminating what was unseen before. It intrigues us. But perhaps we can explain our actions better if you join us for food, drink, even lodging if you so desire.”
“We rarely receive guests here aside from the odd tribesperson,” the marigold unicorn put in. “And they are frightfully dull.”
“Besides, they smell awful,” said another one of the unicorns, with a stamp of his hooves. “Frightful stuff, bear grease.”
The invitations seemed sincere enough. After all, had the unicorns wished to harm us, they could have easily done so by now. They’d even taken my unveiling of their little game without offense.
At least so far.
“All we ask in return,” said the cream-colored mare, “is that you swear not to reveal the location of the Glade to others.”
I glanced at my friends, who nodded. “That doesn’t sound like it’ll be a problem.”
“Oh, and one more thing. We’d like to examine the pooka.”
“Moi?” Destry said, as his ears perked up. “What interest could I hold for you?”
“You’re not going to hurt him, or ensorcel him in any way, are you?” I asked. “He’s my friend, and I’d look very poorly on any mistreatment.”
The mare looked shocked. At least as shocked as an equine could look, anyway.
“Heavens, no! He is a precious example of our phylogeny, even if he wears oddly-colored saddlebags.”
“Your phylo…wait, what?”
“I am fine with being examined,” Destry said quickly. “We wish to be inside this place, no? I shall not be an obstacle to a goal that is so sorely needed.”
“Fine, then,” I agreed. “We’re okay with these conditions.”
“Excellent, then it is time we introduced ourselves,” said the marigold stallion. He then turned and trotted by the remaining unicorns, naming each in turn.
“This is Master Summoner,” he said, as he passed the periwinkle stallion.
The speckled mare was next. “Master Enchanter.”
Next was a chocolate-brown stallion. “Master Conjurer.”
And then another mare, this one with a pink coat. “Master Celestial.”
An orange and white stallion with pinto markings. “Master Fey.”
A rose-gray mare. “Master Crystalline.”
Then a minty-green stallion. “Master Cantrip.”
I made a mental note to keep track of that one.
“I think you already know Master Wayfarer, of course,” the unicorn said, with a flip of his orangey-gold mane. “And since I deal with weather-related magic, I am Master Windkey.”
“More like Master Windbag,” Master Wayfarer grumbled, but Windkey didn’t hear him.
“It seems that you know most of us from the Guild Hall, correct?” I asked, and received a round of nods from the unicorns. “Then the only friend of mine you haven’t met is the one you wish to examine. His name is Destry, and as you surmised, he’s a pooka.”
“Destarius de Revasser of the pouquelaye, if you be so kind,” Destry put in, with a courtly kneel and bow to the assembled equines.
“Well met, Destarius!” Windkey said. “Come along, then. Some food and rest, followed by answers.”
I traded another look around with my friends. They nodded back, intent on forging ahead. I couldn’t blame them. We needed those answers. The food and rest weren’t bad options either, considering that the alternative was to return to the chill and wind of the empty forest.
But I wasn’t completely at ease with this whole thing. The unicorns had just admitted to a power play in the wizarding world that was a lot bigger than they let on. And based on what I’d seen, they had plenty of magic on tap.
Neither of those things made me want to let my guard down.
With a strange combination of wonder and foreboding, I followed my friends deeper into the lair of the unicorn wizards.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A town comprised of unicorn magicians was unlike anything I’d yet seen in Andeluvia.
Which I probably should have expected, now that I thought of it.
The look and feel of the village was different from what I was used to seeing in this world. Fitzwilliam’s court was classically medieval, almost the way Hollywood tended to film it. The centaurs’ version of the court seemed more rustic, in a hunting-lodge kind of way, but still familiar. The fayleene’s cathedral of green strayed further afield, while the griffins’ aerie of caverns and iron-chain netting had been even more exotic.
But the unicorn village was stranger still. The nine Masters who’d identified themselves either led or followed us into their demesne. They formed a dense group who chatted merrily amongst themselves as if visitors were an everyday occurrence.
We followed a tree-lined roadway that wound between the blocky, ivory-hued buildings. Once again, the trees weren’t what one would expect. Their branches weren’t bare, for a change.
Instead, they were festooned with the long, swaying branchlets of weeping willows. Instead of brown or green leaves, the branches en
ded in silvery tendrils that gleamed with an internal light at their tips. In fact, they reminded me of the synthetic fiber-optic Christmas trees I’d see on sale at the local novelty shops each holiday season.
Each step along the road kicked up a rainbow-sheened glitter of dust. I didn’t catch any scent from it, but at least it didn’t make me or anyone else sneeze. Galen nudged my shoulder and nodded towards the ‘willow’ branches. The dust sort of pulsed out of the lit tendril tips like slowly falling snow.
It wasn’t a long walk before we came to the end of the road. Ahead stood an impressive wall of that same beautifully veined rock that made up all the buildings in town. A splash of wrought gold adorned a hole roughly the size of a golf ball smack in the middle.
Before I could ask what that was, the rose gray mare known as Master Crystalline stepped up. She lowered her head, slid the length of her horn into the opening, and spoke a trio of words.
“Nissa ki aztoth.”
A triple chime followed by a churr-chak! cut the air. With a heavy grinding sound, the stone wall slid apart, granting us entry.
Inside, at the very center of the Everwinter Glade, lay a gently sloping hill covered in powder-fresh snow. Amazingly, growing from the very top of that hill was a bare-branched tree of metallic silver. The snow-encrusted boughs spread flat and wide, giving it a tulip-shaped outline. While the tree itself wasn’t more than three stories high, the trunk had to be at least twenty feet around.
Next to that trunk, someone had set out a picnic blanket and a knee-high table.
“Before we proceed any further,” Master Windkey announced, “we must inform the Senior Archmage of your arrival. It is he who ultimately wishes to speak with all of you.”
Galen’s eyes lit up. “The Senior Archmage? The Wizard of Wizards? The Eldest of the Seekers of Knowledge?”
I noticed more than one of the assembled unicorns roll their eyes at that. Apparently, they weren’t as impressed. But Windkey simply nodded.
“Yes, that’s him.” He turned to his fellow equines. “Would someone please bring Master Dekanos here?”
The pinto unicorn sighed heavily. “I lost the last betting match, as I didn’t think Dame Chrissie would make it this far. I shall fetch him.”
“Thank you, Master Fey. And as for our pooka friend?”
The speckled mare spoke up. “Since the pooka cannot truly eat corporeal food, now would be an appropriate time to examine him. Master Summoner and I can handle the procedure and return him afterwards.”
“Very well.” Windkey looked over to Destry. “Follow Master Summoner and Enchanter, if you please. You have my word that you shall be unharmed, and returned to your friends afterwards.”
Destry hesitated for a moment, as if unsure what to do next.
“Go on,” I urged him. “We won’t leave without you, you know.”
With that, he bowed and trotted off in the wake of the two unicorns. The rest of us followed Windkey and the other equines over towards the tree. Up close, the picnic blanket was a standard white-and-red gingham pattern like what my grandma would have put out on a summer’s day.
The low table turned out to be a mirror-smooth plank of wood roughly double the length of a surfer’s longboard. Covered bowls in a range of colors sat atop the surface at regular intervals, along with sets of forks and spoons. At our hosts’ urging, we came to sit at the knee-high surface. The seven unicorns that remained interspersed themselves between us, mimicking Galen and Liam in comfortably folding their legs underneath their bodies.
“I’ll admit, I’m more than a little curious as to what you’re serving,” I said, as I eyed the bright green vessel before me. A little hole in the lid let out a puff of steam.
“Whatever you would normally eat at home,” said the chocolate-brown stallion who’d chosen to sit to my right. I was pretty sure that he was Master Conjurer. “It is hot and fresh, which is nice on a cool day like today.”
While I chewed those words over for a bit, Galen reached out and removed his bowl’s lid, making a pleasantly surprised sound as the contents were revealed. Shaw sounded pleased, as did Liam when he used his mouth to lift his bowl’s lid.
“This appears to be chopped mutton and egg!” the Wizard said, as he reached for his fork. “And the eggs are properly runny, too.”
“Where did you find oatmeal in this wintery desert?” Liam asked, surprised. “As well as the fresh blueberries!”
Shaw had already buried his beak inside the bowl and was chomping away. He eventually came up for air and crowed, “‘Tis wonderful! Salmon mash, fresh from the sea and dripping with brine!”
I finally got up the courage to follow suit. A savory aroma greeted me as I lifted the lid. Inside lay a perfectly cooked beef shank on a bed of pearl barley and stewed winter vegetables. I snatched up my spoon, raised it, and then pointedly set the utensil back down.
“What’s wrong?” Master Conjurer asked. “You look perturbed.”
“I’m finding it hard to believe,” I said carefully, “that you managed to bring us fresh eggs, mutton, berries, fish, and beef in the time it took to walk here. And the mere existence of this place is proof of your skill with illusion.”
“What are you getting at, Dayna?” Liam asked.
“For all I know, there could be anything in that bowl,” I said, pointing at the steaming shank. “Wood chips. Grain husks. Live maggots.”
Both Liam and Galen made faces and sat back from their bowls. Shaw thought about it for a moment, shrugged, and went back to eating. Of course, griffins could consume just about anything, but that wasn’t the point.
“We all eat the same food,” Master Windkey informed me. “Millet porridge. It is filling, and not harmful to equine, cervine, human, nor any other guest we have had here. Yet, it is bland. Would you not prefer to eat what we have, as presented?”
I considered it for a moment. My brain howled an instant ‘no!’, but I paused to figure out why. It didn’t take me long to puzzle through it.
A few months ago, Master Zenos had asked me if I wanted to know ‘the truth’ when it came to a prophecy. One that nearly took both the kingdoms of the centaurs and the humans down to ruin.
He had put the choice to me in the following terms: Would you rather be told a lie that felt good and was self-evident? Or would you rather be told a truth that you may not like, nor immediately understand?
I had chosen the latter. And that in turn made me hesitate to eat what was presented to me. The stew of shank and barley smelled fantastic – but it was a lie. A pleasant lie, but a lie nonetheless.
“I’d rather see the reality of what I’m eating,” I responded. Galen and Liam nodded agreement.
Shaw eyed his half-eaten bowl. “‘Twould be my choice now as well.”
“So be it,” Windkey said. He raised his head and chanted a short phrase. “Adeo ut procidat deceptionem.”
The tip of his horn sparkled. In the twinkling of an eye, the mouthwatering stew aroma was replaced with the mild scent of boiled grain.
The unicorns began their meals, and conversation ended for a short while as we ate. Shaw returned to eating his food with gusto, while Liam took his first mouthfuls without objection. Galen, on the other hand, let out a regretful sigh as he picked through the newly revealed bowl of grain.
Great, I thought. Leave it to Dayna Chrissie to banish the useful magic from a fantasy world. No wonder I never get invited anywhere for my sparkling personality.
Chapter Thirty
Master Windkey was right about one thing. Without the illusion, the fare served was as bland as eating a bowl of brown rice without so much as a drop of soy sauce. But I’d muscled through worse before. I’d only just gotten towards the bottom half of my bowl by the time Galen had finished his meal and started in on his questions.
“I must inquire. Each of you use the moniker ‘Master’ here. Is this some arcane nomenclature related to your fields of study? And if so, why is your Senior Archmage named Dekanos?”
I remembered the pinto stallion who’d left to get the Senior Archmage before I spoke up.
“I’m guessing that of all the unicorns here, Master Fey would be the resident expert in fey magic.”
Liam gave a quiet little deer snort, but didn’t comment further.
“That is right. Other fields include crystal-based magic, or that of the movements of celestial bodies.” The mares named Master Crystalline and Master Celestial dipped their heads in turn.
“But are there that many fields of magic?” I asked. “Surely, not everyone here can have a field of study all to themselves.”
“That is correct, but our names still reflect our area of expertise,” Windkey said smoothly. “For example, your food was made by Master Cuisinier. Still other Masters of their trades keep our weather warm, our houses whole, or our bodies hale. No matter how trivial the task, we have a Master for it.”
Interesting, I considered. I wonder if the unicorns have a Master Window Cleaner, a Master Garbage Mare, or a Master Manure Sweeper.
Master Celestial, the mare with a powder-pink mane and coat, spoke up next. Her voice sounded tinkly, as if she’d swallowed a set of windchimes.
“The truly gifted unicorns here are the ones who have chosen to master one of the many facets of the Tree of Thaumata,” she declared. “Just as the tree is many-surfaced, so too are there many expressions of magic, many forms. Not all are understood, not all are yet discovered. But as the years pass, more secrets are revealed to us in our studies. This is where we learned that sorcery is the most primal art, where we learned that fey magic can disrupt the magic that animates the demons. This is where–”
“That’s why this place feels so strangely charged to me!” Liam exclaimed, as he got up and looked more closely at the tree’s trunk. A ray of sun pierced the gloom, brightening the rough bark, making it look like a gnarled expanse of tinfoil. “There is more raw magic here, fey and otherwise, than anywhere I’ve stood, even in the heart of the Sacred Grove. That is what’s been making my fur stand on end, ever since we passed your gates!”
The Conspiracy of Unicorns Page 16
