“Even so,” Celestial agreed sagely. “The Tree of Thaumata has stood from the beginning of time itself, for in our legends, it is the place where the world itself was first formed. The center of our universe, if you will.”
“Interesting,” Galen mused, as he rubbed his chin with his hand. “We centaurs have always seen the court of our kings as the axis upon which the world turns.”
Liam bobbed his head. “To we fayleene, the Sacred Grove is the center of the universe.”
Shaw let out a squawk. “We griffins doth see the Reykajar Aerie as the center of all things.”
As one, my friends looked in my direction.
“Don’t look at me. I live next door to Hollywood. There’s plenty of people in that town who think they’re the center of the universe.”
The unicorns on either side of me frowned. I didn’t think they got my joke. But before they could say anything, Destry appeared next to the table with a barely-there whoosh.
“Je suis revenu,” he announced. “I have returned.”
“Are you all right?” I asked. “They didn’t ‘probe’ you or anything?”
“I am none the worse for wear. Masters Summoner and Enchanter moved crystals about my body, but they did not put anything inside of it.”
“Thank goodness,” Liam murmured, with a shudder.
“I’d still like to know why you’re so interested in my friend,” I said. “He hasn’t done anything to you that I know of.”
Celestial answered me in her delicate voice. “As Master Enchanter stated earlier, we believe that he is part of our phylogeny. You might call it our ‘ancestry’, though it means much more. Eons ago, we believe that the pooka and the unicorns diverged from a common ancestor.”
“Fascinating,” Galen breathed. “And how did this split come about?”
“That is what we wish to know ourselves! Master Dekanos felt that it came from how each species chose to wield their tremendous magical power. We unicorns deal mostly with the corporeal world. The pooka, in contrast, decided to work and exist almost entirely within the ethereal one. But we share common roots, for we are dream horses all the same!”
“The pooka’s examination should have been over for some time now,” Windkey said abruptly. He cocked his head towards Destry. “Where are they, Destarius? The two who examined you, I mean.”
“I assume that they are on their way,” Destry replied, with a Gallic shrug in his voice. “They said I could go, so I left.”
Liam gave Windkey a look. “Why the sudden impatience?”
The unicorn tossed his mane irritably. “Because they told me that they wanted to be here when Dekanos arrived. The Senior Archmage of our people is always called Dekanos, because he is chosen from amongst the ten most powerful unicorns. And since he was chosen to plumb the deepest of the mystical arts, he rarely leaves his quarters to answer our concerns. Thus, little gets done when he is in his meditative state.”
“Well, Master Dekanos hasn’t gotten here yet,” I pointed out. “How long does he remain in this ‘meditative state’?”
“Days or weeks at a time. To preserve the serenity required, such a Master resides in a chamber that is both physically and magically sealed. Just as the entire Glade is similarly sealed off from the world at large.”
“How does he stay fed?”
A shrug. “Master Cuisinier slides bowls of millet and water through a slot at the bottom of the door every day at noontime.”
“Really?” I asked. “That doesn’t seem all that…I don’t know, magical.”
“Maybe not, but it does work. It’s kept both ethereal and corporeal elements of Master Dekanos healthy for some time now.”
A low chuff came from Master Wayfarer. “Long enough, that is for sure.”
“I agree, but be still about it,” Windkey snapped. “It is his knowledge to share or not, as is his wish!”
I thought about Windkey’s words for a moment. I didn’t like the sound of it for some reason. But at least it would allow me to press further on one issue.
“Would part of Dekanos’ knowledge include the reason that my friend Galen was denied Archmage status?” I asked pointedly.
As one, the unicorns’ expressions grew uncomfortable. Galen frowned and crossed his arms. A thump-thump echoed across the glade as he stamped his forehoof impatiently.
“Well?” grumped Wayfarer. “You told me to let these interlopers inside the wards. You might as well tell them!”
“It was part of Master Dekanos’ decree,” Windkey admitted. “We’ve bestowed the title on none but unicorns for the last twenty years. We did not do this to grab power for ourselves, as you have already intimated.”
“Allow me to postulate further,” Galen said. “In that same time period, you have woven your spells about this glade in order to conceal yourselves. To withdraw from the world, plunging it into this ever-lasting winter.”
Something about what both Windkey and Galen said raised a flag in my head, but I’d have to go back and think on it later. I mentally furled it up and spoke in turn.
“And when you concealed yourselves from the world,” I added, “you also began shunting the studies of human wizards away into fields of your choice. And to get away with it, you hid behind the stone faces of yet other humans.”
Windkey and the other equines lowered their heads in shame.
“But why?” I demanded. “There must have been a reason!”
“It is better that you speak with the Senior Archmage,” Master Conjurer insisted. “He is the oldest of us all, the one who has wielded the most power, and the only one who knows the whole story.”
Suddenly, the rapid-fire sound of hooves thudding on ground echoed from further down the roadway. The pinto-patterned unicorn stallion tore through the open gates and galloped across the open glade. Master Fey pulled up before us, his nostrils shooting twin jets of steam in the dry air.
“Master Dekanos is not answering his door!” he declared. “Something is wrong!”
Galen traded a startled glance with me. My heart leapt into my throat. This didn’t bode well. Not well at all.
“Could he have simply gone beyond the limits of recall?” Conjurer asked. “Master Astral has asked him not to push beyond the boundaries–”
“There are seventeen ways to recall one in deep meditation or astral voyaging,” Fey shot back. “I know all of them. Better than any of you!”
“I doubt that,” sniffed Master Crystalline.
“Now is not the time!” Windkey thundered. “Celestial, please fetch Master Locksmith. The rest of us shall accompany Master Fey to Dekanos’ quarters.”
Wayfarer led us back out the gate and then down one of the passages between a pair of observatory platforms. We hurried across a wide square laid out with white cobblestones and blue-hued equine statues. Finally, we arrived at a one-story house roughly a quarter-block in size. A plain, white stone wall stood firmly in our path, emblazoned with yet another golden lock shaped for a unicorn horn.
Masters Summoner and Enchanter came galloping up, breathing hard. They made a nicely contrasting pair, between their periwinkle blue and spotted cream coats. But their eyes were wide, showing barely-controlled equine panic.
“We just heard the news!” Enchanter breathed. “Is something wrong with Master Dekanos?”
“There might be,” Wayfarer grunted. “Or there might not be. We’ve got no choice but to wait for Master Locksmith.”
“Hold on a moment,” I said. “Maybe we can help. Destry’s an ethereal, he can move through walls.”
“An excellent idea!” Master Windkey enthused. “The pooka can go check.”
Destry let out a hesitant whinny. “Perhaps not, chère.”
“What?” I blinked. “Why not?”
“Because of the magic that permeates this place. If I had tried to cross the barrier maintained by Master Wayfarer about this town’s walls, I would have been torn apart! Désintégré, efface, fini! How might I know what lies beyo
nd those walls? If this Dekanos is protected from the outside world, could there not be a similar barrier within?”
“You may have a point,” Windkey admitted. “Master Wayfarer?”
The surly, cream-colored unicorn sighed and waved his horn in the direction of the lock. The sparks at the tip of his horn flared for a moment. A paf! and a flashbulb burst of white light exploded for only a moment, leaving a reverse image on my retinas.
“I don’t think there was a damned thing to worry about,” Wayfarer said. “But if there was, then the pooka’s safe enough now.”
“All right, Destry,” I said. “Do your thing.”
With a whoosh, the pooka turned insubstantial. Turning with a smooth leap, he dove into the surface of the wall. That provoked a series of astonished ‘oohs!’ from several of the unicorns.
The seconds ticked by, no one speaking. Galen rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Shaw flexed the talons on his forepaw as if to ensure that they were at the ready.
Finally, with a sound like a gentle exhale, Destry emerged from the white slab of rock, phasing into corporeal form. His face, as best as I could read equine expressions, was grim.
“There is an old, white unicorn inside,” he reported. “C'est mauvais, Dayna. He lies still upon the ground, his limbs crooked like the branches of a storm-tossed tree. And he does not breathe. I held my ear close to his chest, and no heart beats within.”
The Senior Archmage of the unicorns was dead. And wouldn’t you know it, right on the day of our arrival in the Everwinter Glade.
I had a bad feeling about this.
Chapter Thirty-One
According to the unicorns, the Senior Archmage may have been the most powerful magical being in the Everwinter Glade. But that didn’t really matter anymore. The stallion lay dead on the other side of a magically sealed wall.
And until we figured out a way to get through, there wasn’t any way to tell if his death had been natural or not.
“‘Tis obvious what needs to be done,” Shaw declared, as he began to spread his wings. “I shall go find another key.”
“Hold on, big guy,” I said. “I think the cavalry just arrived.”
In this case, the ‘cavalry’ was a slat-thin gray unicorn with an extra-long horn. Regardless of rangy, odd looks, the other equines deferred and gave way to him. The skinny stallion worked his way through the gathering crowd and moved up to the golden keyhole.
“Thank goodness you’ve arrived, Master Locksmith,” Windkey declared. “This is an urgent matter! Can you get this door open?”
A nasal-sounding snort came in reply. “As if I wouldn’t know my own craft! Are there any magical barriers I need worry about?”
Wayfarer shook his head. Locksmith then braced himself and with one smooth movement, thrust his horn into the hole. He twisted his neck once to the right, twice to the left, and spoke the same trio of words.
“Nissa ki aztoth.”
With a triple chime and accompanying churr-chak! the wall slowly slid open.
A couple of gasps escaped the unicorns next to me as the gray light of the afternoon revealed what lay within.
The Senior Archmage’s home looked like a cross between an Italian villa and a Zen Garden designer home I’d seen in Santa Monica. A flowing series of frescoes decorated walls that shone with the gleam of lime plaster. At first glance, the paintings depicted equines wearing tack, marching grimly across snow-covered mountains.
The rest of the square interior was a veritable ocean of sand the exact shade of champagne fizz. The mass of tiny stone particles had been swirled into spirals and mounded whorls. At the edge, the grainy expanse ended where a small hill of green turf rose out of the ‘sea’.
At the summit grew one of the silver-leaved ‘weeping willow’ trees. Underneath the swaying boughs, the branches drizzled multicolored dust over the body of a unicorn. The body lay flat on its side, limbs strangely curled as if it were a tortured piece of ivory sculpture.
“Is he really dead?” one of the unicorns in the crowd whispered.
I squinted at the body. Aside from what Destry had said, Master Dekanos’ visible eye had remained open and tilted up towards the vaulted stone ceiling. There was about as much life in it as a glass marble.
“Yes,” I said, “I’d say that he’s definitely passed on.”
A strange coughing sound came from the assembled unicorns. Liam drew a step back as he looked on in amazement. Shaw and Galen threw me puzzled glances, but I just shrugged in confusion. Each of the equines had bowed their heads, tears dripping from their liquid black eyes.
Of course. The unicorns were crying at the sight of their leader’s demise. It was heartbreaking and pathetic at the same time.
“Look, I’m sorry that you had to see this,” I said awkwardly. It couldn’t be bad to offer some comfort, even of the cold variety. “But it seems that you all know about me, what my job is. I can at least determine if foul play was involved. I know it’s terrible, but we’ll work through it somehow. There’s no need to be sad.”
Master Crystalline snuffled as she spoke. “Sad? We’re not sad.”
“You’re not?”
The rose-gray mare shook her head. “We unicorns always cry when we’re happy.”
I blinked. “Are you serious?”
Amazingly, the remaining equines nodded in agreement. Several stamped their hooves to emphasize their point. Then a chorus of voices broke out from the crowd.
Master Dekanos was the worst Archmage we ever had!
Denigrate my field of study, will he? He can rot!
He promised me a promotion out of this dead-end job!
He left dirty hoofprints all over the wizarding arena!
Hogged all of the best telescopes during observation time!
Kept sending his meals back. And they were enchanted to become whatever he most liked to eat!
“Please, please!” Master Windkey insisted. “Now is not the time to air our grievances, not with outsiders present!”
“You’re one to talk,” Wayfarer snorted. “Everyone knows that you’ve been positioning yourself to be chosen as our next leader. How long have you been waiting by now?”
“It’s not my fault that Dekanos didn’t die when he should have!” Windkey flared. Then, as if thinking better of it, he turned and spoke to me. “That sounded a trifle inconsiderate.”
“Oh, quite,” Galen agreed, with a roll of his eyes.
“I meant that Dekanos lived far beyond the normal age of a unicorn. That’s all. And as far as dying when he ‘should’ have…do you agree with that statement, Dame Chrissie?”
I pursed my lips. “You said Dekanos was old. Was he in good health?”
A new unicorn mare, this one cinnamon-red in color, stepped forward. “I am Master Physician. My last check of Dekanos took place in the spring. He was in perfect health for his age. Sound lungs, firm belly, un-chipped hooves and wholesome manure.”
“Well, I’ll put the question to both you and Master Windkey,” I said. “From over here, you can see how unnaturally Dekanos’ body is twisted. Given that there’s nothing on his little turf island for him to trip over, does it look like a natural death to you?”
Master Physician shook her head. “No. Treachery was involved here, that is sure.”
Windkey gave me a skeptical look. “Obviously, you want to examine the body. And if foul play exists, to identify the culprit. But why should we let you? You’re an outsider, one that was only allowed in on Dekanos’ decree. And he’s quite obviously dead.”
A murmur of agreement swelled amongst the herd of unicorns.
In times past, I’d have probably lost my temper about now. Yet, if my time spent in Andeluvia had taught me anything, it was that some creatures were amazingly obtuse when it came to the ‘why’ of solving anything. So, I played my most reliable card: the one involving self-preservation.
“Why should you let me?” I asked. “Well, it sounds like you’ve been pushing to be the ne
w Senior Archmage. That means one thing: Right now, you’re the next target for whoever murdered the former Master Dekanos.”
The orange-yellow equine’s throat worked as he swallowed, hard.
“I see the wisdom in your argument,” he said. “I therefore charge you with finding Master Dekanos’ murderer. Then, we can bring that stallion or mare to a suitably just end!”
“Just one moment!” Master Summoner demanded, in his weedy voice. “You are not our new Senior Archmage just yet, Windkey! You cannot order an investigation on behalf of our people!”
“No, but I can order one on behalf of myself,” Windkey shot back. “Whatever Dayna asks as fee for her service, I shall see that it is paid!”
That stopped me. What could a unicorn pay us? He could probably pull a sack of golden crowns from thin air if needed. Being a wizard had its advantages, after all.
But no. If anything, we needed knowledge.
“Master Windkey,” I began, “you’ve been putting us off every time we’ve asked about one thing. Why the unicorns withdrew from the world to this sheltered glade, promoted none but each other to the title of Archmage, and discouraged humans from pursuing certain types of magic. You can pay us with this knowledge.”
The stallion pawed at the ground before answering. “All right. But I shall only reveal what I know once you have identified the murderer in our midst.”
Now, I was the one who hesitated. “That may take some time. I’ll need resources from my world. And my world needs me, in turn. I’m supposed to return this evening and not come back to Andeluvia for two days.”
“Then I shall extend the hospitality of the Glade to your friends in the meantime. Your friends shall be given a guest dwelling, the services of Master Cuisinier, and free access to our library of magic tomes.”
The Conspiracy of Unicorns Page 17
