The Conspiracy of Unicorns

by Michael Angel

  “Not a smidge. There’s a trace of pooka magic that surely leads back to our friend Destry. From when you sent him in here a few minutes ago.”

  I made an irritated sound. “Fine, then. A couple more things I want to do right now. Liam, if the unicorn stumbled downhill, it means he was poisoned while sitting or standing higher up. Likely right under that tree. Can you use your magic and give the area near the trunk a closer look?”

  He bobbed his head. “Certainly.”

  “Good, but just be careful not to get too close to the bark itself. Whatever Dekanos got into his system is incredibly powerful. Right up there with the sodium cyanide that killed both Captain Vazura and your sire, Protector Quinval.”

  “I’ll be careful, Dayna,” he promised, before trotting uphill a few steps. His antlers glowed faintly green as he concentrated on the willow-like tree.

  “What else might I do?” Galen asked.

  “Help me flip the body over,” I said, patting the unicorn on its stiff flank. “I want to inspect the other side, see if I find any other entry wounds.”

  I gave the Wizard a second pair of gloves. Bending low, we each grabbed a pair of stiffened legs. Together, we gave a mighty heave, rolling Dekanos over to his opposite flank. I knelt again and repeated my visual inspection.

  Nothing jumped out at me, but again, as a non-vet, all I saw was pale horse skin and flesh. The same tone predominated in all the tissues. Something was bothering me about that, as if I were missing something. Before I could figure out what it was, Liam called over to us.

  “I’ve found something!” he said, peering up into the nearby branches. “There’s nothing strange with the tree itself. But there’s a branchlet up there that’s strangely shiny to my eyes. Like it’s damp.”

  My brain went into overdrive with that thought. Damp with what, though? Nothing good for one’s health, that much was for sure.

  “Which branch are you talking about?” I asked, as I went to stand next to Liam. The Protector then tried to point out which part of the tree he meant. But it didn’t do any good. I couldn’t spot it.

  “I must confess that I cannot spot the specified branch either,” Galen complained. “My speculation is that the ‘shine’ you see is only visible in the part of the light spectrum Dayna says the fayleene can sense.”

  “Okay, wait just a minute,” I said, as I pulled a dust mask and a pair of safety glasses from my plastic container.

  I put the mask’s loops over the backs of my ears and slipped on the glasses. Pulling up the edges of my gloves, I made sure they overlapped the ends of my sleeves. It wasn’t a perfect seal, but it minimized the area of exposed skin. I didn’t want a single droplet of whatever burned Dekanos to touch me.

  I took out the little pair of shears again and waded forward into the mass of willowy branches. Liam saw what I was doing and began directing me in earnest. I followed his every command while trying not to shy away from each swaying branchlet. My breath roared in my ears as I went ever deeper, and all I could smell was the dust mask’s sour-gum mixture of cloth fiber and plastic.

  “Okay, it’s up ahead of you,” the Protector called. “Do you see the three tendril-like branches ahead of you? Good. It’s the middle one. Wait! Grab it higher. At least another hand-span higher, where it’s dry. That’s the one.”

  Even through my gloves, the skin on my palms crawled as I grasped the errant strand and cut it. It didn’t look any different than the other branches, but it was coated in whatever toxic substance someone had brought inside. I shoved it into the largest sample bag I had and backed out of the mass of willowy tangles, moving to stand before Liam.

  “Do you see any wet spots on me?” I asked.

  He squinted. “Not on you, no. The blades of your cutting tool look wet, though.”

  That was probably sap, but to be safe I bagged the shears, too. Then I bagged up all my protective gear. I made sure to get Galen’s set of gloves, too. I looked down at Dekanos’ body one more time and shook my head.

  “What might be the matter, Dayna?” Galen asked.

  “I just have regrets,” I said. “I wish I could have talked with Master Dekanos, of course. But I also regret that I won’t be able to do a full autopsy to help bring his murderer to justice.”

  The Wizard considered. “That is a strange set of regrets, but I’ve come to realize that they are perfectly in line with your methods. Since you must leave us tonight, I expect that you’ll need to use your world’s magic to find out who the murderer is.”

  “In part, but we can’t lean on that alone. We need to do a little more detective work while we’re here.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’m thinking that we’d better speak to our assembled unicorns again. I want a lot more detail about each Masters’ whereabouts eight to ten hours ago.”

  Liam snorted. “Well, this should be an interesting experience.”

  “True,” I sighed, as I moved to leave. “But if solving murders was an easy job, then everyone would be doing it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The perpetually overcast sky of the Everwinter Glade always looked as if it were about to snow. Evening announced itself as the gray dome overhead went from misty silver to the color of roof shingles. My mood darkened right along with the color of the heavens.

  After I’d announced that the evidence pointed to foul play – specifically, murder by poisoning – the unicorns were surprisingly willing to talk. However, a couple hours of individual interviews proved only one thing: that just about every one of them had motive and inclination to murder Master Dekanos.

  Agatha Christie would have been proud.

  The Protector and I returned to the nearby square to question potential suspects. Aside from a couple of lonely, turquoise-colored statues, the space was completely open. That made it easy to queue up the unicorns to speak with, but not so good for a dead-on-her-feet forensics analyst.

  The inhabitants of the Glade weren’t big on furniture, but Master Woodworker rustled up a bench for me to sit on as I did my ad hoc cross-examination. Each of the unicorns left as soon as I’d spoken with them, save for the same handful that had met us at the entry gate.

  Galen took a blank scroll from one of his saddlebags and dutifully kept notes. Destry and Liam remained on the sidelines, quietly observing the goings-on. And Shaw, ever the most practical of my friends, simply curled up next to the bench like a king-sized Irish Wolfhound and promptly went to sleep.

  “Okay,” I sighed, after the last interview. “Run it by me again, Galen. How many unicorns expressed interest in murdering Master Dekanos based on some slight or insult he gave them?”

  A rustle of parchment as Galen turned his scroll and produced the answer. “Twenty-one.”

  “How many based on the magical rivalry?”

  Another rustle. “Seventeen.”

  “How many based on the lack of professional advancement?”

  A third rustle. “Nine.”

  “And how many based on general dislike?”

  One final rustle of dry parchment. “Forty-five.”

  I rubbed my temples and groaned.

  Then, a very small click sounded in my brain, triggered by something that I wouldn’t have really considered before I’d visited so many species’ demesnes in Andeluvia. I sat up straight and stared at Galen.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “I’m betting that nine of those names show up on all four lists.”

  The Wizard spent a moment checking as he flipped though the entries on the scroll.

  “You are correct,” he said, surprised. “It’s the nine who admitted that they harbored murderous feelings towards Dekanos due to a lack of professional advancement.”

  “Uh-huh.” I looked around at the unicorns who remained sitting or standing around the square. “And I’m willing to bet they’re all in attendance right now. Read those nine names aloud.”

  Galen cleared his throat and recited the list from his scroll.<
br />
  “In no particular order, that would include Masters Summoner, Crystalline, Fey, Windkey, Cantrip, Wayfarer, Conjurer, Enchanter, and Celestial.”

  Liam stepped out as he watched each unicorn’s ears perk up in turn. “It looks like you were right. Have we, in fact, narrowed down our suspect list?”

  “Somewhat,” I cautiously agreed. “It makes sense, based on what I’ve seen of this society.”

  Shaw stretched like a giant jungle cat, opening his beak in a mighty yawn. “How doth thou mean, Dayna?” he asked sleepily.

  “I’ve visited each of your peoples in turn,” I explained. “Each one was willing to kill based on what their culture valued most. The fayleene wanted us dead at one point for violating the sacred nature of their Grove. I’ve seen centaurs fight to the death over insults and succession. And griffins will fight for honor. And revenge.”

  “What of the unicorns, then?” Galen asked, as he rubbed his chin. “What do they value?”

  “Magic. Specifically, magical power and prestige.” I nodded towards the marigold stallion. “That’s why we heard Windkey complain that Dekanos hadn’t died yet. For example, the unicorns don’t depose their rulers, not the way centaurs do. That’s just not how it’s done. Once a Senior Archmage is chosen, they’re in for life.”

  Destry swished his ghostly tail. “Which is why they might all be willing to, as humans say, ‘pull the trigger’ on Dekanos. Then they could step up to replace him.”

  “That must be it. And yet, I’m missing something.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Any one of these nine could have committed the crime long before now. But they didn’t. Not until our murderer took the final, bloody step. What pushed that mare or stallion over the edge? They each have their field of study to champion, after all. Dekanos didn’t keep them from it! In fact…”

  “What is it, chére?”

  I paused as my brain locked up. After this long day, I was just too tired. Something had just slipped out of my mind’s grasp and into oblivion, right when I needed it.

  “Dammit!” I cursed. “I…I thought I had the solution. Right there in front of me! Just for a second, but it was there!”

  “Well, I object most strongly to being one of your chief suspects.” Master Windkey protested, with a firm clop of his forehoof. “After all, I’m the one who has given you this assignment. If I were the murderer, why would I do that?”

  “Maybe you’re just being clever,” Master Enchanter shot back. “To throw us all off the scent of your guilt.”

  Wayfarer snorted sarcastically. “Yes, ‘clever’ is what comes to mind when Windkey’s name is mentioned.”

  “I’ve heard Enchanter, Conjurer, and Fey talking about how to end Dekanos’ life!” Windkey blazed. “Ask them about that!”

  “I confessed that to Dame Chrissie already,” Conjurer shot back. “We were speculating about the methods Dekanos used to extend his life. About how they might work. Or miscarry. That’s a far cry from plotting murder!”

  “Not so far a cry as some!” Master Enchanter flared. “At least I know that I am innocent of this horrific crime! I wish to distance myself from it!”

  “Why?” Master Cantrip objected. “So that you can appear pure of heart when you campaign for Dekanos’ spot? That sounds awfully suspicious to me!”

  “What about your pet pooka?” Master Summoner sneered. “We might be able to figure out ways to pass through walls, but he does it naturally! Why don’t you question him?”

  “Because I have no motif, no reason to kill any of you,” Destry stated calmly, ignoring the insult. “Also, I have no way to get through your Glade’s barrier of protective spells.”

  “That’s true enough,” Wayfarer added. “If he’d found a way through, or if the barrier had gone down, everyone here would have felt the release of its accumulated magic.”

  “But above all,” I pointed out, “Destry was in my world during the two-hour window when Dekanos was poisoned. I was always with him. There’s no way he could have traveled here and back without being noticed.”

  A chorus of protests erupted from the assembled unicorns.

  “Enough!” I shouted, as I jumped to my feet. “That’s enough, all of you! Master Windkey, all I can ask from you is patience. We’ve gone about as far as possible with this phase of the investigation. Now, I need to return to my world and let the magic of forensics take effect. I’ve got evidence that is sure to tell the tale of what happened, and it shall only take a single day to present the results.”

  Excited murmurs ran through the crowd as Master Fey spoke once more.

  “This is a field of magic which we know little of,” he said. “We would certainly like to learn more about it in the future!”

  “Then you can speak with my friends about it,” I said smoothly. “I expect that they shall be housed, fed, and treated with all respect during the time I am gone.”

  “They shall. We unicorns are sometimes difficult with one another, yet we do know how to show hospitality to others.”

  “Good. Then before I leave, I need to speak with my friends. Privately.”

  The unicorns exited the square, some casting curious or questioning glances over their shoulders as they did so. I sank back down onto the bench with a sigh. I needed to get back, but I couldn’t leave quite yet.

  “Galen, your note taking was invaluable,” I said. “Tell me, do any of these headstrong equines have an airtight alibi? Specifically, where they were during the span of time when Dekanos was murdered?”

  A quick scroll through the names and notes, and the Wizard nodded. “Two of the names on our list seem to fit the bill. Masters Crystalline and Cantrip are a bonded couple, and for that time, they were actively engaged in…shall we say, ‘foal making’.”

  “Doth we have anything besides their word for it?” Shaw asked.

  “Several other unicorns attested to their mating being rather loud. Apparently, Master Cantrip knows what he is doing.”

  I decided to leave that one alone. “Okay, then. The only other idea I have right now is to see if there are any pooka besides Destry who might’ve slipped through the barrier shield and murdered Dekanos.”

  Destry’s brushy mane rippled dismissively. “Given that there is so little traffique between my kind and theirs, that is a long stretch.”

  “I must concur,” Galen added. “Yet I shall do what I can to inquire about that possibility.”

  “Good,” I breathed. “Now, I don’t think I need to warn all of you to watch your back, right? I wouldn’t let any of these magical equines get you alone.”

  “Perish the thought,” Galen huffed.

  “I shan’t let that happen,” Liam agreed.

  “Shouldst the killer target me, I shall defeat them!” Shaw declared.

  “I doubt that anything here can harm me,” Destry added. “But I shall be careful all the same.”

  I shook my head. “Actually, I need you to follow me back to Los Angeles. I’m going to need your help.”

  He bowed. “But of course. I can track your spoor anywhere you travel.”

  I paused to gather up my samples. Taking a deep breath, I looked around at my friends. Liam was the first to notice the look on my face.

  “What’s wrong, Dayna?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I confessed. “It’s just…something’s not adding up. I don’t know where exactly, but this case is what Alanzo would call chueco. I thought I had it a little earlier, but now I’m doubting even my own thoughts about all this.”

  “Banish such negativity,” Galen said, as he trotted forward and laid a warm hand on my shoulder. “Your mind shall unravel the mystery in time.”

  “I hope so. The thing is, it’s not my mind that’s giving me the crossed signals. It’s my gut. And that’s something I always trust, because it usually knows what my brain hasn’t quite figured out yet.”

  The Wizard stepped back as I pulled the chain holding my transport spell medallion
from under my shirt. “Then I shall hope your ‘gut’ provides insights in a timely manner.”

  “You and me both,” I agreed. “See you here tomorrow evening, guys. Be careful.”

  Shaw chuckled. “Usually, we are the ones who doth worry about thee.”

  “Maybe. But for once, you’re all staying where the danger is while I’m leaving for where it’s safe.”

  I held the medallion firmly in my palm. The world flashed neon-white and vanished as I fell into the vortex of transport between worlds.

  Of course, my brain had to have the last word.

  Oh, so they’re all staying where the danger is while you’re leaving for where it’s safe, right? Those are famous words, Dayna Chrissie. Famous last words.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I arrived unannounced, and thankfully unseen, in Shelly’s backyard just as the evening stars had begun to shine in earnest. Once I got the smell of ozone out of my nose, I groped my way over to the white wicker loveseat and waited. I silently counted to ten before Destry’s dark form shaded into existence with its usual breathy sound.

  “It is lucky we arrived here when we did,” he said, with a horsey nicker of relief. “It is getting difficult for me to see.”

  “Well, the lights are on,” I said, as I turned and surveyed the house. “That means Shelly’s home, at least.”

  The pooka nodded agreement. “I sense her thoughts. She is deep in slumber.”

  “Already? If she’s gone to bed this soon, I bet she’s pulling an early shift tomorrow. Come on, let’s do our best not to wake her.”

  Destry followed in my wake, taking care to remain in ethereal form as I went up to the back door. I paused for a moment as an idea occurred to me.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Destry, you’ve got the ability to sense what people are thinking. Couldn’t your powers tell us which of the Masters is the guilty party? That is, if they were thinking about how they murdered Dekanos?”

  He let out a tired sigh. “If it were that easy, I would have spoken up earlier. I can sense surface thoughts, yes. But I cannot tell what is fantaisie from réalité. Most of the unicorns we met today were thinking of very colorful ways to murder the victim. It only got worse once you announced that he’d met his end by poisoning.”