Sun Blind

by Gwen Hansen

  One of the eagles cried out in alarm as a door to the roof of the fortress suddenly opened, and Illyria was pushed out, her hands bound behind her back. Two soldiers followed and pulled her to the very edge of the ramparts overlooking the courtyard.

  Then, from the other side of the ramparts, a carved stone door opened and a short, fat man dressed in gaudy robes emerged. Sheila would have recognized him anywhere. It was Dynasian himself And Nemor was at his side.

  Sheila tried to call out, hoping the sight of a flying unicorn would at least distract Dynasian, but her voice was paralyzed by the panic that gripped her. She felt Danan's arm around her, and then Quiet Storm and the eagles began to descend, dropping silently through the air toward the fortress below.

  The unicorn and eagles slowed when they were a short distance from the fortress, hovering again, watching as the unicorn riders reached the top of the mountain and entered the open gates.

  The riders couldn't have been more than ten feet beyond the wall when the iron gates swung shut behind them, and Dynasian's voice rose over the clamor.

  "Welcome riders," he said, parading across the ramparts. There was an oily quality to his voice that made Sheila's stomach turn. "Do not come any farther unless you wish to be directly responsible for your queen's death."

  Sheila saw the riders shield their eyes against the glare of the sun as they followed the sound of Dynasian's voice.

  "I've been planning this little get-together for over a month now, and it pleases me greatly that you are so prompt.

  "I have only one regret," the tyrant went on, "You are unable to see your queen, who took the more difficult route up the mountain. Were the sun not so bright, you would see she stands by my side. She is, I am afraid, a little disheartened. For she has just learned that the story that unicorns are held captive here is just that—a story. Further, she now realizes that she has led you all into a trap.''

  Nanine's contemptuous voice carried clearly. "He is insufferable!"

  "I believe she owes you an apology." Dynasian shoved Illyria forward, perilously close to the edge of the ramparts. "Speak to them!" he ordered. "Tell them how you have betrayed them."

  Illyria ignored the command, her face proud and calm.

  "Do as he says, Lady." Nemor, who stood on her other side, spoke in a persuasive voice, He does not like disobedience."

  "Too late," Dynasian announced in a peevish tone, “You’re not following orders, Unicorn Queen." He turned to Nemor and uttered two succinct words: "Kill her."

  Nemor hesitated just a moment. Horrified, Sheila screamed as Nemor stepped forward and pushed Illyria off the ramparts. Time seemed to stop as the Unicorn Queen plunged toward certain death.

  Suddenly Quiet Storm moved with a speed that Sheila doubted a plane could equal. He swept down in front of the fortress beneath Illyria, catching her across his back as she fell.

  Sheila hadn't even recovered from the surprise of it before Darian handed her his knife, telling her to cut the rope that bound Illyria's hands. Quiet Storm touched down lightly in the courtyard, and Darian and Sheila slipped from his back. Illyria remained on the unicorn's back, ready for the battle ahead.

  Myno gave a loud, ringing cry, drew her sword—and then stopped dead in her tracks, The other riders also remained where they were, and Sheila knew why. The sun, now directly overhead, turned the fortress and its walls into a giant, glaring reflector, blinding anyone who stood in the courtyard. This was what Nemor had meant by natural defenses. They couldn't fight. They were sun-blind.

  The riders shielded their eyes uselessly, unable to do anything but look at the ground. The wild part of the herd raced around them. Sheila wasn't sure whether or not the sun had the same effect on the unicorns. But there were no enemies for them to attack. The soldiers all stood safely on the walls, jeering at the helpless warriors below. Sheila knew it was only a matter of moments before the soldiers would begin picking the warriors off with well-placed arrows.

  Suddenly a series of long dark shadows fell across the fortress. A terrible high scream was heard. The soldiers looked up to see a formation of golden eagles circling the fortress. As the largest eagle cried out again, the flock dived for the men on the ramparts. They tore into the guards, knocking them from the walls, attacking until the ranks broke, panic-stricken.

  There were the sounds of men running, swords being drawn, and the unicorns charging in a frenzy. Sheila had a feeling that more of Dynasian's reinforcements were pouring out of the fortress, but she couldn't be sure. All she could see was glare. I've got to get out of this courtyard so I can see what's going on, she told herself. She did the first thing she could think of—she took the pack from her back and held it to her forehead, using it as an oversized visor.

  It took a moment to sort out what was going on. More soldiers, wearing visors on their helmets, had indeed rushed out and were heading for the riders. Both the eagles and unicorns were doing an impressive job of fighting the soldiers, but they were greatly outnumbered. Then the strangest combatant of all joined the fray. Pedaling like a madman on a ten-speed bicycle, and carrying a huge plastic garbage bag, Dr. Reit zoomed into the courtyard. The sun didn't bother him. He was wearing black Wayfarer sunglasses. He looked like an extra from Miami Vice, Sheila thought with astonishment.

  Oblivious to the swords and arrows flashing through the air, Dr. Reit pedaled straight toward her. "There you are, dear girl!" he cried. "I've brought you supplies." He thrust the plastic garbage bag into Sheila's hand.

  Sheila opened it and gave a loud whoop of laughter. The bag was filled with Ray-Ban sunglasses. Without missing a beat, she took a pair for herself and then dodged through the battle, distributing the sunglasses to the other riders and Laric's men, who, one by one, were changing into their human forms.

  Dian actually smiled at Sheila as she put on her shades, but before Sheila could wonder about that, she found herself staring at the edge of a sword. And holding the sword was one of Dynasian's soldiers. Sheila couldn't make out the face beneath the helmet, but the man was at least six feet two, and from the arrogant way he moved, she could tell that he had marked her as easy prey.

  Reflexively Sheila drew her own blade and blocked his first blow.

  What am I doing? she wondered frantically as she dodged his next strike, He's going to total me!

  She should have gone to the backpack instead of trying to fight with a weapon, but it was too late to change tactics now. This was one fight she would have to finish.

  The soldier advanced with steady, deliberate blows. He didn't seem to be trying very hard to actually get through her guard, and with a sense of surprise, Sheila realized that he wasn't. He was simply going to wear her out. He would keep up his attack until she could no longer lift the sword against him.

  Suddenly she heard Darian 's words: "Easy . . . fight your fight," and understood that the soldier had been making her fight his fight—and he wasn't going to do it any longer.

  His blade slashed down against her own, and then rose preparing for the next swing. Sheila knew that he was counting on her to block it. So before his blade could complete its downward arc, she stepped in close and sliced the heavy leather armor open. The soldier looked at her in amazement, and, as he hesitated, she moved in again, taking the offense. He stumbled backward, trying to avoid her sword, and Sheila lost all fear. She went after the soldier with the sweet certainty of a victory, and only realized how thoroughly their roles had changed when he fled from her.

  She was standing there feeling pleased with herself when a strong arm yanked her out of a spear's path. Darian pulled her against a wall, out of harm's way. "I told you you'd be a terror," he said with an approving grin. His grin faded as he looked straight ahead of them and caught sight of Dr. Reit. "What's he doing?" Darian asked.

  Dr. Reit was, in fact, coming to Dian's rescue, though not in any way that. Darian would have recognized. Having decided to run interference between Dian and an advancing soldier, the elderly scientist hunche
d down ("better aerodynamics," he would later explain) and rode over the amazed soldier's sandaled foot.

  "Way to go, Dr. Reit!" Sheila cheered.

  The scientist brought the bike to a rather jerky halt directly in front of her. "Yes, well…” he mumbled in his usual flustered tone. He looked around at the battle that was still raging. It was impossible to tell who was winning. “I realize this may not be the best time to exit," he began, "but I'm going to fade any second now. I can feel it,''

  "Okay," Sheila said, determined not to get all upset again. "Thanks for helping us. But how did you know to bring the sunglasses?"

  "I told you I had to go back and investigate those ‘natural defenses' Nemor mentioned," Dr. Reit explained. "It didn't take me long to figure out they were counting on the sun as their most powerful weapon. But let's get going. I'm starting to fade."

  "What do you mean, 'let's?'" Sheila asked, confused. "Thanks for helping us. Come back when you can.”

  "You don't understand," Dr. Reit said. "This time you can fade with me. The bicycle will take us both."

  Sheila couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You mean you're finally going to take me home?"

  "Only if you get on the bike!" he shouted above the din. "There's not much time. Hurry!"

  A lump rose in Sheila's throat. This was it. She was finally going home. It was what she had wanted ever since that crazy day when she fell into the time machine. Then why did she suddenly feel so sad? She scanned the courtyard, trying to get one last glimpse of each of her friends. Her eyes met Darian's and she had to look away.

  "Sheila!" Dr. Reit's voice was weaker, and his image was wavering. "I can't stay much longer. You've got to get on now!"

  "I know." Sheila brushed back a tear and reached for the bike—and at that moment she saw Illyria surrounded by three soldiers and fighting desperately for her life.

  Before she had a chance to think about the consequences, she drew her sword and ran to Illyria's side. She and Darian each took on one of the soldiers. A jolt ran through her arm as she parried a blow meant for Illyria, giving the Unicorn Queen time to recover and fend off the first man, Laric, his sword moving with lightning speed, suddenly appeared and dispensed of the third soldier, who was matching blades with Darian. Sheila didn't mind at all when Laric then finished off her opponent.

  Illyria finished her own fight, and Sheila breathed a sigh of relief. She turned back to where she had last seen Dr. Reit, but it was too late. The scientist was gone. How could she have let this happen? She had given up her only chance to go home. For the first time since the battle began, Sheila broke down and cried.

  13

  The Fortress

  The rest of the battle passed in a blur. After helping Illyria, the only thing Sheila remembered clearly was the moment when Quiet Storm repaid Nemor for his treachery. The powerful unicorn had torn into the mercenary, goring and then trampling him as he lay wounded. The unicorns were all fierce, but Sheila had never seen anything this savage. Laric had said the lion and the unicorn could not meet without one of them dying. Quiet Storm gave Nemor no chance to survive.

  A short time later it was over. The sun was beginning to set as the riders, the unicorns, and Laric's men stood grouped by the entrance to the fortress. Pelu was already applying bandages.

  "Is everyone here?" Myno asked with a frown.

  "Everyone except Dynasian," Nanine said darkly. "The pig has escaped."

  "And the captive unicorns," Illyria added. She shook her head wearily. "They were never here. It was all a ruse to trap us. Dynasian spread the rumor throughout the countryside and I believed it."

  "What happened to the Sareen?" Darian asked. "Weren't they supposed to ride up to the fortress with all of you?"

  "Another lie. Nemor never told them about this," Illyria answered. "They didn't know he was a traitor, and I don't think he wanted them to find out. Maybe that was his saving grace—he could have sent them into the trap and didn't. Maybe he felt some responsibility to them after all."

  Sheila stood listening, one arm around Morning Star's neck, She was exhausted and numb from all that had happened. She looked around at the group of riders, thinking, This is my world now. This is as close as I'll come to family. And then she realized that one very important member of the family wasn't there. ''Illyria,'' she said, ''Kara’s missing."

  The group fell quiet. They all knew where Kara was—somewhere inside the fortress, searching for Lianne.

  "I'll find her," Sheila volunteered. She really didn't know why she said it, except she couldn't stand the idea of Kara in there alone searching for a sister who might not even be alive.

  She patted Morning Star and walked toward the massive stone building. There were footsteps behind her, and she turned to see Darian.

  "Thought I'd come along," he said as they stepped inside the building.

  Together they walked through Dynasian's stronghold. For a building belonging to a man with such fussy taste, the inside of the fortress was surprisingly barren. Except for weapons on every wall, storerooms, and living quarters for the soldiers, there was little beyond empty, high-ceilinged hallways.

  Their footsteps echoed in the hallways as they walked. There was no sign of Kara, Lianne, or any other slaves for that matter. Sheila was beginning to wonder if the story about Lianne was like the story of the captive unicorns—a lie designed to sweeten the bait.

  At last they came to a passage that branched into another hallway. A woman's sobbing could be heard somewhere in the distance.

  "There she is!" Sheila and Darian cried at once, each of them pointing in opposite directions.

  They looked at each other with sheepish smiles. The inside of the fort was like a giant echo chamber. Either one of them could be right.

  "I have an idea," said Darian, "Why don't I go in that direction-"

  "And I'll go in this one," Sheila finished.

  Darian nodded. "Look," he said, "I know you can take care of yourself, but be careful. Okay?"

  "I will," Sheila promised. "You, too.”

  She turned and headed left, toward the sound of the sobbing. She was sure that she was getting closer. As she walked farther down the hall the sound became louder.

  She kept going and soon realized it was fading. That meant that whoever was crying wasn't in the hallway but in a room off the hall, and she had passed it. Patiently she doubled back, this time trying every door she passed.

  The doors were all locked—all except one. Sheila pushed against a low doorway, and it swung open into a small, dark room.

  Cautiously she stepped inside and stopped. Kara knelt at the far end of the room, cradjing a sobbing figure.

  "You found her?" Sheila asked.

  The archer looked up. It was too dark for Sheila to read her expression. "Yes, I've found her, but she's been badly frightened. She's been hiding in this room for weeks and doesn't want to leave. She's afraid the soldiers will hurt her. Maybe you can help me persuade her that it's safe to leave."

  Sheila approached Lianne, a pretty, delicate girl who looked to be about seventeen. In spite of the situation Sheila couldn't help making a snap judgment: Lianne would never make it as a rider. Almost at once she realized that anyone who had seen her on her first day in this world would have said the same thing about her. Remembering what it felt like to be scared and lost and confused Sheila gently began to help coax the girl out of the room,

  In the three weeks that Lianne had been hiding out, she had barely eaten. Kara and Sheila had to support her on either side for her to be able to walk, so leaving the fortress was a slow process. They had almost gotten Lianne to the main door when Darian found them. Sheila expected Lianne to be afraid of him, but Lianne gave Darian a shy smile and he immediately offered to help carry her.

  Sheila stepped back and watched the trio move ahead. Lianne would heal, she thought, and like all the riders she would grow strong.

  Kara, Lianne, and Darian opened the fortress door and stepped outside. Sheila was
about to follow when suddenly the door slammed shut behind them, Sheila was alone in the fortress, and spinning wildly in the darkened hallway were the red lines of the krino. She had been right. Valan wasn't dead. He was here in the fortress with her.

  Sheila felt strangely calm. Too much had happened that day for her to feel much more. She was simply wrung dry of all emotion. "What do you want?" she asked tonelessly.

  The mage materialized at the sound of her voice. It occurred to her that she had given up her one chance to return home, and now Valan was going to kill her, and she was too exhausted to do anything about it. Some warrior she turned out to be.

  "I seek only to make something clear to you, time traveler," he answered. "You and your friends have won today's battle. Despite my protection Nemor lies dead. But despite your sorcerer friend and your own magic"—he indicated her backpack—"you will not win. And you will all pay for Nemor's death." He spoke in the voice of prophecy, and Sheila felt herself grow cold as he continued. "Laric and his men will soon remain eagles never to transform, and the unicorns will be destroyed."

  Believe him and you fight his fight, Sheila told herself.

  She shrugged and made her voice as sure and steady as she could. "You’ve been stopped before. You can be stopped again."

  "Let me show you, then, what you're really up against," said Valan softly. The krino began to spin furiously. Sheila reached toward her pack for the mirror, knowing that she didn't have time to find it, much less use it.

  But this time Vatan did not use the krino as a weapon. Instead, the glowing red light spun around his own form, weaving a network of fine red lines that shimmered in the darkness, completely covering his figure.