by Natalie Erin
“Falling was the quickest way.” Dust picked up the pace, jogging now. “Faster, now, faster.”
The wolves and Xiuh were running to keep up. Midnightstar followed, feeling like she was getting lost, that Dust had no idea where she was going, that the wolf was simply winding them in circles...
Dust abruptly stopped at a large stone door, and the rest of them stumbled into each other as a group, tumbling head over heels.
“You bumblehead, watch where you’re going!” Rabika barked at Tatl as he slammed into her from behind.
“I’m sorry, but I was going full speed and...”
“Hush,” Dust said, and they all fell silent. She lifted her paw to knock three times upon the stone, saying, “I, Dust, servant of the Assembly of the Lands, ask entrance into their secret meeting.”
“Servant…” Midnightstar whispered under her breath, and Xiuh looked at her. The door opened, and the hundreds of voices that were chattering ceased. Midnightstar looked up. She was in an amphitheater, a massive circular court made out of stone. The cave went upward in a cone shape, where animals of all kinds took their seats. The jewels the cave was made out of posed as thrones for the members of the Assembly, and Midnightstar felt their many eyes pierce her coat and melt her insides as they stared from above.
“I ask for your attention,” Dust called out in a demanding, nearly bullying, tone. She wasn’t afraid of the Assembly in the slightest...in fact, she seemed as if she was taking command.
A white heron, standing on a large diamond pillar in the center of the amphitheater, straightened her neck and peered at the group in interest. “Dust,” the heron said. “I see you’ve returned.”
“Only as a guide to the travelers. You will pause your meeting until their problem has been heard.” Dust swished her tail. Without another word she swept away, out the court exit and out of sight.
The Assembly looked after her longingly. “She was the best thing that happened to the Assembly,” a horse said nearby. “The best damn...”
“Later, Charm.” The heron turned her eyes on Midnightstar and her group. “What do you want?”
Midnightstar came forward. “We need to ask for your help. I’m sure you’ve heard that there is chaos in the Great Plains. The wolves and the unicorns there have been fighting for several years now, and it needs to stop.”
“You assume that, at your request, we are going to halt everything we’re doing and help?” the heron asked.
Midnightstar stepped backwards in surprise. “Well, I was hoping that...”
“Of course you were,” the heron said blatantly. “I’m sorry to say in order to do that, we need a unicorn representative.”
“Wouldn’t that be Dragonstar?” Tatl asked, butting in.
“Yes,” the heron said with irritation. “He has made it a point to not show up to any meetings recently.”
“He’s with his Accompany, which is where he should be,” an eagle argued in defense of the unicorn.
“This is why Changers shouldn’t be allowed in the Assembly,” a llama complained.
“His loyalty belongs to Vixen more than it does to you,” Midnightstar peeped, although quietly. Few heard her.
“Since Dragonstar’s…absence,” the heron said. “The unicorns have refused to send another replacement. They have pulled out of the Assembly completely. They are as much our enemies as yours now, and us simply charging in there and demanding that they stop attacking your pack won’t do any good. In fact, they’ll most likely turn on us as well. They know that, above all the animals in the Lands, they have the numbers now.”
“Then why not enforce your rule? You have the power to stop them,” Tatl said.
The heron shook her feathers. “Not in these tough times, young wolf.”
“There are animals who will help,” Tatl said. “Not everyone is out for themselves nowadays.”
“Prove it,” a large cat purred up on a ledge. Several voices agreed.
The heron fluttered her wings. “All the same, you have no authority to dictate what the Assembly does. In order to do so, you must be a member, and no one here is willing to make a motion to stop the unicorns and the wolves from killing each other if they so wish.”
“How do we become members, then?” Midnightstar said.
The heron laughed, lowly and rudely. “Foolish wolf,” she started, and Xiuh growled. “There is only enough room in the Assembly for two more. One spot is reserved for the unicorns. Another is for the representative of the wolves. Patchaki, the last Wolf King, has been gone for several months now, and hasn’t returned.”
“We assume he’s dead,” a voice said from high above.
“We’re looking for a replacement. Since Dragonstar is gone, stopping the bloodshed between the wolves and the unicorns is a motion only the Wolf King…or Queen…may pose to the Assembly.”
“What is a Wolf…King?” Adelaide asked, her ears perking at the sound of the word.
Screaming came from the outside of the court. Everybody turned to peer down the hall, where a massive moose and a large bull came rampaging down the shimmering floor. Both were bleeding heavily, with huge gashes in their sides.
“I’m sorry, all of you,” the bull blared, and his breathing was labored. “We failed.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the heron screeched. “He took down all of you?”
“None of us are dead,” the moose said. “Only severely wounded. We managed to crawl away before he got hold of us again.”
“Most have headed for their dens. They’ve vowed to never work for us again,” the bull said in disgust.
“But those animals we hired are the best of the Lands! We’re out of options.” The heron flapped her wings, clearly disturbed.
“I beg your pardon,” Rabika said in a rude tone, “But what exactly are we talking about?”
The whole Assembly stared at her, as if she had suddenly sprouted another head. “You’ve got to be kidding,” the moose said. “You don’t know?”
“What?” Rabika asked, glaring him down.
“He’s a freak!” the bull said wildly.
“Who?”
“Valcur!” the moose burst, and the whole Assembly let out a shutter. “That bloodsucking demon! He’s a psychotic killer, I tell you! Filthy Ortusan!”
“You mean to say that one Ortusan did this to you? I’d think it would take a whole coven to create this much damage,” Tatl said.
“Only him,” the moose said. “Valcur is insane. He’s lost his mind, gone crazy from bloodlust. He doesn’t even eat what he kills anymore, he just murders for fun. I’ve never seen a crazier beast in my life.”
“I bet we have,” Rabika mumbled.
“No!” the bull said loudly. “You don’t understand. He’s a babbling lunatic with no sense of self preservation. Even the Bloodlusters stay away from him.”
The mumbling in the room quieted. Valcur was clearly not a very popular topic.
“There is only one way for the Wolf King to be established,” the heron said. “One of you must prove your worth by completing an impossible task.”
“If it’s impossible, then how are you supposed to complete it?” Adelaide peeped.
“Adelaide, hush,” Midnightstar said. Tatl paid full attention, his ears alert.
“Tell me now,” Rabika said. “I must know.”
The heron stretched her wings. “Whoever can do what every Assembly member has tried to do, and failed, will be given a spot on the Assembly to speak for the wolves. The goal is simple, but difficult. Slay Valcur, and you shall be crowned the Wolf King or Queen.”
“Where does he live?” Rabika asked, and Midnightstar heard a small murmur of laughter vibrate throughout the court. Rabika ignored them.
“In a ravine not too far from here,” the heron said. “There are bones and such all around his cave. He’s a complete slob. You can’t miss it.”
“Let me rest for a day, then in the morning, I’ll go hunting. You’ll have his head for a lawn ornament b
y sundown,” Rabika promised. She went out swishing her tail, proudly prancing on her paws.
The instant she left, a snake hissed, “There goes a dead wolf.”
“Oanto, hush,” a jaguar next to him whispered.
“We have to help her. There’s no way she can take on that beast alone. He’s a maniac,” Tatl argued.
“No one may help her if she’s to become ruler,” the heron said. “She must do it alone.”
“Forget the task! What about voting somebody in? Have you ever thought of that?” Tatl said.
“Perhaps he is right. It is time for a change,” a beaver said.
“Of course not. For hundreds of years we’ve had every single member of the Assembly be elected by performing a difficult task. It should be no different now,” a deer said back.
“But what about the unicorns and the wolves? You still haven’t given me an answer!” Midnightstar burst, staring up at the heron.
“Find us a Wolf King,” the heron said. “Then we’ll vote on it.”
Happy at this compromise, the Assembly disbanded without another word or another glance to the group.
“Oh sure, we can have democracy when it’s beneficial to them,” Xiuh complained.
Midnightstar drug her paws towards the exit, miserably contemplating the idea of Rabika facing a lunatic, who was crazy even by Ortusan standards. “Hopeless,” she whispered under her breath, closing her eyes.
“Now what do we do?” Adelaide trembled, quivering in her bow at the thought of Valcur.
Tatl led the way as they headed out of the chamber. “We hope that Rabika comes back with a new lawn ornament.”
“What in the Verinian do you think you’re doing!” Snapfoot screamed, looking down at the dead animal before his feet in the leafy trees outside the plains.
A wolf with a bloody mouth licked his chops. “We’re eating. What does it look like?”
“You just killed another unicorn! I didn’t authorize this!” Snapfoot said.
“We had to have permission?” a she-wolf said. “Oh. I thought, since there were so many of us, we could just go on hunting parties when we wanted.”
“You thought wrong!” Snapfoot began pacing. One unicorn was fine, but two deaths in the herd…Crying Ice would be murderous. “I put together a couple search parties to hunt for food every few hours to keep everybody fed, and you go do your own thing?”
“Sorry. We made a mistake.” By the look on the wolf’s face who had said this, he was anything but sorry. He grinned with the joy that his belly was full.
“Take all the meat back and spread it amongst the pack,” Snapfoot ordered. When they didn’t move, he bared his fangs and growled, “Now.”
The five wolves that had brought down the beast meekly followed his command. Snapfoot turned away from the lovely smell of food and thought, Complete disrespect. I might as well be their dinner, as well as they listen.
Kaliska sensed his fury as he padded into the camp. She went to go tell the pup she was playing with she had to go, but the mother came by and snapped at her. Glaring at the other she-wolf, Kaliska followed Snapfoot into his den once more.
The leader looked around, exhausted. He spent a lot of time in his den these days.
“Snapfoot, something’s bothering you,” Kaliska said, a caring tone to her voice.
“Nobody is listening to me!” Snapfoot said angrily, kicking a spare stone against a wall.
“I listen,” Kaliska said.
“You’re the only one. The rest of these idiots don’t get it.”
“Don’t get…what?”
“A couple of rebels just went out and killed another unicorn.”
“Oh no.” Kaliska shook her head.
“Oh, yes. What makes it worse is that the unicorns are planning an attack! They’ll be here in less than two days!”
“Snapfoot, calm down,” Kaliska urged. “How do you know this?”
“I was out in the bushes one night, and I heard them planning. Their leader, Crying Ice, she wants to make sure all of us die!” His voice became frantic. “I haven’t told anyone yet, because I’m not sure what I should do!”
“Then we must act at once,” Kaliska said quickly.
“What are we supposed to do? Telling them what the unicorns have in store would cause a panic,” he scathed.
“I’ll generate a guard so when the time comes, we’ll be ready. We’ll rotate positions and give a warning when the unicorns charge,” Kaliska said.
“The only wolf they listen to less than me is you, Kaliska,” Snapfoot moaned.
“It’s on your orders. They can do nothing to stop it. Avoiding your suggestions to not hunt is one thing, but refusing to follow a direct command is mutiny.”
Snapfoot sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Gather all the wolves and hand out assignments. But order them to keep it quiet that the unicorns will attack. We don’t want to start a panic.”
“You have my word, Snapfoot,” Kaliska said. “When the time comes, we’ll be ready.”
Midnightstar couldn’t sleep that night. Nervous for Rabika and scared of having more terrifying dreams, she went out to wander. Looking at the jewels in the cave made her anxious, so she loped out of mountain to satisfy her craving for normalcy.
What she got, however, was anything but.
She emerged from a crevice in the side of the mountain, shaking her fur as she came to a river. She dipped her head to drink, and as she did so a sparkling light caught her eye, a warm beacon against the cool liquid. She snapped up her head, paralyzed with wonder.
The lake reflected a graceful creature, a sandy unicorn with long, slender legs and tiny golden hooves. Her small head was tucked in neatly by her curved, long neck, with a mane that rippled down to her chest and a tail that flowed to the ground. Her horn was so long and shimmering, it appeared to be made out of dozens of crushed, sparkling jewels. She was so beautiful, just looking at her made Midnightstar want to cry.
Midnightstar’s heart fluttered. This unicorn would be able to convince any creature, any unicorn, to follow her and leave a life of massacre behind. This unicorn could persuade both sides to live in peace.
She had to talk to her. The wolf left the river and began walking calmly towards the creature. Would she scare her away? Worse, would she attack? As she drew closer, Midnightstar choked up. Every other unicorn, even Dragonstar, looked ugly compared to this wonderful beast.
Midnightstar opened her mouth to speak. “Pardon me. Excuse me, unicorn!”
The unicorn looked her way. Those swirling eyes never blinked, and Midnightstar’s stomach turned to iron. “Dust?” she squeaked.
“It is I.” The unicorn stood there like stone, her small nose barely quivering as she stared at Midnightstar.
Anger overtook her. Then, even worse, there was the sensation of feeling like an idiot. “You! You…you were a unicorn all along, and you never mentioned anything about it?” Midnightstar said furiously.
“You knew I was a Changer. The possibility was there.” As always, Dust’s calm attitude seeped through the air.
“Yes, but a unicorn?” Midnightstar said. “Of all things?”
“My main form is actually a unicorn. The wolf is just something I took to make you trust me,” Dust said.
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” Midnightstar huffed.
“No, not really. You don’t really have the right to ask, either.”
“I don’t have the...”
“I can change into whatever I like, but other forms are hard for me to hold. I live my days as a unicorn, and my nights as a wolf. Of course, I’ve had to vary my routine since I met you.”
“I’m sorry we put a dent in your schedule,” she grumped. At first, Midnightstar wanted to bite her. For days Dust had been posing as a true wolf, running with one of the pack, and now all of a sudden she’d just decided to make an amazing change in front of Midnightstar’s very eyes.
But then, excitement furrowed through the wo
lf as she understood what this could mean. “Dust, this is fantastic!” Midnightstar said. “You’re the missing link! You can be the bridge between both sides! Both the wolves and the unicorns will listen to you!”
“I’m unsure if I want to come with you further. I got you to the Assembly, as promised,” Dust said reluctantly.
“But you must! It’s the only way to stop the fighting!” Midnightstar protested.
“That is not my path, Midnightstar. It is yours.”
“What are you talking about?” Midnightstar said in frustration. “How can you stand by and be so...apathetic about everything? There is a war going on! Animals are dying of hunger, or being murdered!”
“I cannot relate to your troubles, Midnightstar. I do not eat, nor sleep. My needs are accounted for, so I’ve traveled throughout the Lands and Nesting’s Haven all my life, my wishes and wants carrying me to where I will. I have been everywhere and seen everything, done all there is to do, and still, I am unhappy.”
“What do you mean?” Midnightstar’s eyes narrowed.
Dust sighed. “There is little left for me in this world. I thought helping you on your quest would give me some meaning, that working for good against evil would hand me some sort of purpose, but good and evil are both the same. No matter what happens in this world, how wonderful or atrocious it is, it will soon be forgotten as the years pass, like nothing happened at all. What is it worth trying to save others from death? You are only prolonging an imminent end. No, Midnightstar.” Dust shook her head. “The only thing that remains in my life is for me to be perpetually bored.”
“Bored?” Midnightstar’s eyes popped out of her head. “That’s all you are? You’re bored of life, so you don’t find any worth in it?”
“I am tired of life, disinterested in everything. Nothing truly has meaning.”
“I don’t care!” Midnightstar shouted. “I don’t...care if life has meaning or not! It means something to me, and no matter how long I’m around or remembered, the things that are happening are important right now! If that’s not enough for you, I’m sorry, Dust, but we can’t have the whole universe and all of time! I’m going to take what I can get!”
“That is your choice, Midnightstar. Not my own.”
