The Cult of Unicorns (Penny White Book 2)

by Chrys Cymri

  At least the barrier would allow me to hide from any other passing equine eyes. I peeled back the cover of the carry bag. ‘Clyde?’

  The snail shark climbed onto my outstretched palm. ‘Dark.’ Then a couple of the glowing creatures slithered past, casting light across his body. ‘Not dark.’

  ‘Please don’t eat any of them,’ I said hurriedly. ‘We’re looking for a sad woman. She might be near us.’

  ‘Woman?’

  ‘Female.’

  I felt his body pulse as he thought. ‘Look?’

  ‘Great.’ I put him down, then warned him, ‘But be careful. There are lots of unicorns, and they have horns. And hooves.’

  Clyde cracked open his belly, exposing the double rows of his teeth. I was suddenly reminded that Clyde had attacked a harpy to defend Morey. The snail did not lack for courage, and for a moment I pitied any unicorn which might dare to challenge him.

  As he slithered away, I returned to the main room and lowered myself onto the stump. And with a great sense of relief, I finally yanked my socks back into place. The walls gave off a faint fragrance, like cedar but not quite as cloying, and I took in a deep breath. If Clyde did find Susie, I would have to think over what to do should the Archdruid return and lie to me. Rescuing her myself was out of the question. Even if Susie were physically capable of outrunning a unicorn, wellingtons were not designed for speed. Neither was an out of shape priest.

  Clyde returned a few minutes later. ‘Found female.’

  ‘That was quick,’ I whispered with relief. There were no unicorns nearby as I poked my head out. So I followed the snail shark deeper into the woods. Despite my warnings, he still snatched at one of the glow bugs which came too near. I grimaced at the crunching sounds.

  Clyde stopped by the entrance to a particularly dark looking trunk. Something about the dull bark, and lack of light, made me shiver. Then he went inside, so I followed. ‘Susie?’ I called out.

  Although it took a moment for my eyes to adapt to the near darkness, the smell of manure told me that I hadn’t been brought to a human. The sound of hooves moving across the packed ground confirmed my suspicions. Even as I saw the dim gleam of a horn, I was saying to Clyde, ‘This isn’t the human woman I’m looking for.’

  ‘Sad female,’ he reminded me crossly.

  ‘Go on, blame me for your lack of vocabulary.’ The unicorn shifted on my right, and I backed away. ‘Find me a human woman. That’s what we’re here for.’

  Clyde muttered something in Welsh which made the unicorn grunt in disapproval. The snail shark headed back out. I was about to follow him, when I suddenly realised that the mare’s hide was a dark grey. There had been only one dark-skinned unicorn in the herd which had greeted me at my last visit. ‘Are you the mother of the foal I brought back?’ I asked her. ‘How is she?’

  ‘Dam, yes.’ She brought her head around to look at me. ‘Mother, no.’

  ‘Sorry, you’ve confused me.’

  ‘Mother no longer. She is taken from me.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘The land is poisoned against me. Archdruid said. My milk is dangerous to her.’

  ‘Is this some unicorn superstition?’ I demanded. ‘No mother should be separated from her child. You should go to her. Don’t let them take your foal away from you.’

  ‘I cannot.’

  She lifted her right hind leg. And then I saw the cord wound around her fetlock. I knelt down on the cold ground, my hands feeling around the thick material. The other end of the rope was tied around a heavy rock resting against the back wall of the shelter. The unicorn’s skin was rubbed raw on either side of her restraint.

  For a moment I thought I might be sick. Then I felt anger warm my face. ‘Yes, you can.’ I pulled out the knife which Raven had given to me and unfolded the blade. For a brief moment I wished he were with me. Then I set to work. The sharp metal made quick work of the rope. I clambered back to my feet. ‘There. Go find your foal. Give her the milk she needs.’

  The unicorn pawed at the ground. I studied her for a moment, wondering why only she had dark skin, why she felt the land was poisoned against her, and whether this could have anything to do with the two bodies resting in a Northampton morgue.

  A woman’s high pitched scream pierced my thoughts. I hurried out of the shelter. There was a unicorn outside, but his ears were pricked and his head was turned away from me. So when the scream came again, I ducked around the trunk and headed in the direction of the sound.

  Another scream. And now I could hear Clyde urging, ‘Hisht nawr, hisht nawr’ He had a tendency to slip into Welsh when excited, but even if he had asked her to be quiet in English it probably wouldn’t have worked. Because as I drew nearer, I could hear the woman shouting, ‘Get it away from me! Nasty snail thing. Go away!’

  I sighed inwardly and tried to hurry my steps. Despite all my efforts to teach him otherwise, Clyde still thought he could offer a friendly smile. Most people found it difficult to look beyond the jagged teeth to the soft twinkle in his eyespots.

  The sounds stopped for a moment, and I glanced around, wondering which way next. Then I saw a unicorn standing outside the opening to a trunk, snorting as she looked inside. I forced my breathing to calm. It was times like these that I wished I could hold up the Doctor’s psychic paper. Pretend you’re him from before he had carried an invention, I told myself. How would the Third Doctor tackle this one? With aplomb and natural authority. So I strode forward and said confidently, ‘Father Penny White, Vicar General of Incursions. I’ve been brought here by the Archdruid. I’ll take over now.’

  Of course, an advantage common to both the Doctor and to the psychic paper was instant language translation. The unicorn had brought her eyes to me, but she asked, ‘Ydych chi'n siarad Cymraeg?’

  What little Welsh I knew could not cope with this situation. So I had to rely on my tone alone. ‘Sorry, I don’t speak Welsh. But I know what to do. Let me go inside.’

  The unicorn backed up as I strode forward. The sharp horn hovered above my head, and I forced myself not to flinch as I passed underneath. To be gored by a unicorn simply because I hadn’t kept up my Welsh lessons was too embarrassing to contemplate. What would they write on my gravestone? ‘Gone to heaven to learn the language.’

  A middle aged woman was pressed against the dark wall of the trunk, one hand pressed against her mouth, the other lifted in a warding gesture towards Clyde. The snail shark was perched on the table, still offering his smile, teeth gleaming even in the low light.

  ‘Well done, Clyde,’ I said quietly. ‘Close your mouth.’ Then I turned to the woman. ‘Susie?’

  The sound of her name brought her gaze to me. ‘Susan Merchant, researcher at Wiseman Agricultural. I demand that you let me go.’

  ‘I’ve come for you.’ I took a step closer. ‘Mr Wiseman contacted me about you. How are you feeling?’

  ‘I want to go home,’ she said tearfully. ‘Can you take me home?’

  Her trousers and coat were dingy with dried mud, her long hair was a tangle, and her face was blotchy from dried tears. I gave her a reassuring smile. ‘That’s why I’ve come. Do you know why you’ve been kept here?’

  ‘She came uninvited to our lands.’ There was no melody in the Archdruid’s harsh voice, and I had to suppress a shudder. ‘We have yet to decide what to do with her.’

  Susie whimpered as I turned my back and strode back outside. The Archdruid appeared to be alone, although for all I knew, countless unicorns were hidden behind the huge trees. ‘Let me take her home. Back to her own people.’

  ‘She has seen our lands, our trees, and our herd. What do you think she will do when she returns to her own people?’

  ‘Tell everyone how you kidnapped me!’ Susie snapped.

  Whilst part of me rejoiced that she had found some gumption, I did wish that she had taken a bit longer to do so. ‘We will find a way to keep her from speaking up, Archdruid. Trust me.’

  ‘I do trust you, Father Penn
y. But I do not trust this human. She was sent to spy out our lands. If she returns to her people, more will come. And I cannot permit that.’

  ‘And I can’t let you keep her here.’

  ‘Then, Father Penny, we are at an impasse.’ She lowered her head slightly. ‘I will permit you to leave, if you go now.’

  ‘I must take Susie with me.’

  The horn lowered further. ‘And I will not allow that.’

  I swallowed hard. ‘Are you threatening me, Archdruid?’

  ‘Only if you go against me.’

  I felt my cheeks flush. The knife was still in my right hand. ‘Then I must tell you, Archdruid, that I am not defenceless. I am a knifebearer.’

  The unicorn snorted. ‘No metal from your Earth can harm us.’

  ‘Oh, this isn’t from Earth.’ I flexed my wrist. The intricate design of the forged grey-black metal shimmered even in the dim light. ‘This came from a meteorite. I carry sky metal.’

  She backed up a step. For a long moment we studied each other. The strength my anger had given me was fading, and I was already beginning to regret bringing a weapon into the argument. I needed to find some way of letting us both back down and find another solution. Violence was never the answer.

  I was about to speak when the canopy to my right began to shudder and shake. Branches snapped and broke, throwing leaves and thick splinters through the air. The Archdruid looked up, seemingly mesmerised by the weight forcing its way through the dense growth. I switched the knife to my left hand, and with my right I grabbed her chin beard. A large piece of wood narrowly missed her shoulder as I pulled her under the cover of the tree trunk.

  With a final loud crack, a large body dropped onto the forest floor. Light shone through the large hole, and glistened across a body of green-black scales. The dragon gathered his legs under him and his large head swung towards me.

  ‘Raven.’ I strode forward, my calves twitching with a mixture of relief and anger. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘You drew your knife,’ he said, ‘so I came.’

  I stared down at the blade in my left hand. ‘Then what took you so long?’

  ‘I had to find a thin place.’ Raven snorted. ‘I don’t have a vortex manipulator.’

  Even as I wondered how and when he’d managed to watch some Torchwood, the first question I should have asked came to mind. ‘And how did you know that I’d opened the blade?’

  His gaze slid away. ‘I always know.’

  The Archdruid had also emerged, and she took a stand on my left. ‘You gave her the knife without a coin.’

  ‘Without a coin,’ Raven agreed.

  The unicorn eyed him. ‘That was hasty.’

  His ears flicked. ‘Dragons aren’t known for their patience.’

  ‘More is the pity,’ said the unicorn. ‘Father Penny and I were about to amicably settle our differences. A dragon invading our home vastly complicates matters.’

  Raven’s blue-green eyes came to mine. ‘You threatened Penny. She drew her knife. So I came. The fault is yours, ‘corn.’

  ‘No it’s not,’ I retorted. ‘You’re the one who decided to come. I thought you’ve always said that I need to be able to look after myself? So why come now?’

  The Archdruid tossed her head. ‘Because he gave you a knife without a coin.’

  ‘But that was still not enough,’ I said to Raven, ‘for you to help me save Clyde’s life.’

  ‘Why should I have helped him?’

  ‘You helped me to find James.’

  ‘He’s family.’

  Clyde had come to my side. I reached down my free hand, and he slid onto my palm. I allowed him to drop back into his carry case. ‘Well, so is Clyde. At least Peter helped him, even if you wouldn’t.’

  Raven cocked his head. ‘And who is this Peter?’

  Clyde raised his head. ‘Boyfriend!’

  My heartbeat sounded loud in my ears. Raven’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that true, Penny? Is there another dragon in your life?’

  I had problems finding my voice. ‘Not a dragon. He’s a police officer. Human.’

  The red-lined nostrils lowered to inches away from my face. I found myself looking up the sweep of scales and spines to his eyes. ‘What do you see in him?’ His breath wafted against my sweaty forehead. ‘No human could ever satisfy you, magnificent Penny. Don’t make the mistake of believing otherwise.’

  The mixed scent of wood smoke and leather made my heart pound. I had to close my eyes for a moment. I opened them again as the unicorn asked, ‘Are you ready to turn your attention to our dilemma?’

  ‘There’s no dilemma,’ said Raven. ‘Penny is leaving.’

  ‘And if I disagree?’

  The dragon dropped open his jaws. ‘Horn against teeth, hooves against claws. Should be an interesting contest.’

  ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘There’s not going to be any fight.’

  ‘There would not have been,’ the Archdruid said, ‘if you had not drawn sky metal against me. So, Father Penny, as you precipitated this crisis, I wish to hear how you mean to resolve it without violence.’

  Slowly, deliberately, I folded the knife blade back into the handle and slid it into my trouser pocket. When I had been learning how to drive, my driving instructor had always said, ‘Separate out the obstacles.’ So, even as I had been taught not to try to pass a cyclist whilst going around a blind bend, I decided to ignore the glowering dragon on my right and to concentrate on the irritated unicorn on my left. I only hoped that Raven wouldn’t turn out to be the equivalent of a lorry driving down a country road far too narrow for a large truck.

  ‘Archdruid,’ I said as formally as possible, ‘at my ordination to the priesthood, my bishop exhorted me to support the weak, defend the poor, and help all those in need. It’s my duty to take this woman to the safety of her own people. Please tell me what you would require from me so that I may do so.’

  There was a long silence. I felt sweat drip down my back, and realised that the heat was coming from Raven. His flame chamber was stoked and ready. Finally, the Archdruid spoke. ‘I need to be assured of her silence.’

  Raven suggested, ‘I could eat her tongue?’

  Susie’s squeal was, I thought, quite understandable. ‘She won’t speak of what she’s seen here,’ I said. ‘She’ll promise to that.’

  ‘I don’t know--’ Susie started.

  I turned to her. Part of me wanted to shrug and remind her that it wasn’t my tongue which was at risk. But I touched my dog collar and reminded myself of my calling. ‘You need to go home. Aren’t your friends and family more important than your job?’

  She gave me a weak smile. ‘Right now, I’d trade my job for a proper loo.’

  ‘Your honour for her honour,’ the unicorn said. ‘If she breaks her word, I will hold you responsible.’

  ‘You might,’ growled Raven, his eyes glinting as he stared down at Susie. ‘You break your promise, and I will make sure you lose your tongue.’

  ‘Stop it,’ I told him crossly. ‘Go hunt a deer somewhere. Human is not on your menu.’

  ‘Hasn’t been for some time,’ he said, with a rather worrisome note of regret.

  I held out my hand, and Susie left her shelter to take it. Archdruid and dragon fell into step behind us as I led the way out of the forest. Their continued presence made Susie’s hand shake in mine, and I tried to give her fingers a comforting squeeze. ‘I have pictures on my phone,’ she muttered as we headed down the hill.

  ‘Erase them,’ I told her. ‘We’ve made a promise.’

  ‘But I took photos of unicorns. I wanted to print one out for my bedroom.’

  I glanced back. The Archdruid had stopped at the edge of the forest, but Raven was still pacing twenty feet at our rear. ‘Even though they threatened you?’

  ‘But they’re so beautiful.’

  ‘So are tigers.’

  Susie finally pulled her hand free from mine. ‘What did Anne and Simon say when they got back?’
/>   ‘Not much,’ I said.

  ‘They were silenced too?’

  We were near the thin place. So I halted, and turned to face her. ‘They were killed. That’s why you need to keep quiet.’

  Her hand flew to cover her mouth. I lifted Clyde from his pouch, and his eyestalks directed me to the crossing place. As Susie and I returned to England, and our own world, I could only hope that she kept to the bargain I had struck. Both of our lives could be at stake.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Peter came to take Susie away. He gave me a look to let me know that he’d want the full story later, and I wondered how best to edit Raven out of the narrative. Clyde seemed quite tired after our excursion, and I put him into his tank, moved him closer to my desk, and slid a DVD of The Sarah Jane Adventures into my computer.

  ‘What is that?’ Morey demanded from my shoulder as the opening credits played across the screen.

  ‘If he’s going to watch children’s TV,’ I told him, ‘at least it can be something decent.’

  Morey glared at me. ‘You’re just trying to convert him to Doctor Who.’

  ‘Of course. You’re a lost cause.’

  ‘No one could replace William Hartnell as the Doctor.’ Before I could absorb this unexpected opinion, he continued, ‘What did you promise the Archdruid?’

  ‘That Susie would keep quiet about what she’d seen.’

  ‘And if she doesn’t?’

  ‘Well, Raven has threatened to eat her tongue if she doesn’t.’

  That was the moment that Clyde chose to direct his eyespots away from Sarah Jane talking to K9. ‘Green dragon. Boyfriend.’

  Morey hopped down onto the desk. ‘Black, I’ve warned you about that dragon.’

  ‘What does Clyde know?’ I asked lightly.

  ‘Don’t mix,’ Morey said. ‘I did, remember? Seren was killed because of it. So was Miranda. Don’t let Cadw ar Wahân turn their attention to you.’ His tone softened. ‘And I like Peter.’