The Unicorn Emergency

by Lucy Coats

  “Tell me what these red smears are on the unicorn’s teeth,” Demon said. Immediately, the box’s silver lid flipped open, and out whipped a thin bright blue tube with one large sucker on the end. It hovered over the nearest unicorn’s mouth, making a slurping noise as it sucked up all the red. Then the tube disappeared back into the box.

  “Initiating analysis mode,” said the box. A circle of rainbow colors began to whirl on its lid.

  “What is that thing?” Artemis asked.

  “It’s one of Hephaestus’s inventions,” Demon said. “I don’t use it as much as I used to, but it is useful for finding stuff out quickly. It’s pretty rude sometimes, but it does come up with answers.”

  Artemis let out a small huff of laughter, which she quickly stifled.

  “That sounds like my brother Hephaestus, all right,” she said. “Rude but with answers. How long will it take?”

  Demon shook his head.

  “I don’t kn—” he started to say, but as he was speaking, the rainbow circle stopped, and blue sparks shot out of the box.

  “Analysis complete,” it said. “Substance is pomegranate.”

  “Pomegranate?” Demon asked, bewildered. “I don’t understand. Where . . . ?”

  “Substance originates from the Underworld,” the box said. “Specifically from the palace gardens. No known antidote. Patient will fade away and die shortly. Thank you for your inquiry.”

  Then it began to beep again—a different, higher beep.

  “Battery power drained. Initiating shutdown mode. Solar recharge initiating.” With a whirr, its lights went out, and it was silent. Demon tried not to kick it. He knew it would do no good. But now he really was on his own. It was not a comforting feeling.

  “Hades!” Artemis snarled suddenly, leaping to her feet. “Persephone!”

  Demon whirled around. “Where?” he gasped. Hades was the god of death, and Persephone was his wife. Was she here? Even worse, was he here? Demon didn’t get along at all with Hades. He had nearly been eaten by Hades’s ghost dragons once. But as his eyes flicked everywhere and fear swept over him in a great wave, he saw nobody. He let out a great sigh of relief. And then he remembered.

  “Wait,” he said slowly. “Hades tricked Persephone with pomegranate seeds, didn’t he? And both of them tried to trap me down in the Underworld, too, with pomegranate-seed pastries. But . . . but what have pomegranates got to do with the unicorns?”

  “It’s the prophecy, stupid bo—I mean, GIRL!” Artemis shouted. “Think about it. In the time of the crescent shall come death out of the darkness below. And the sweetness before pain must mean the pomegranate. Hades or Persephone are the only ones who could have done this, and I’m going to make them pay!”

  Whipping several arrows out of her quiver, the goddess fired them in quick succession at the earth, where they stuck for a moment, silver feathers trembling, and then disappeared downward with a muffled whoosh.

  “Will those really kill them?” Demon asked. His personal experience of the god of death made him pretty sure that a hundred arrows wouldn’t even dent him, let alone just a few. He wasn’t sure how tough Persephone was, though.

  “Of course not,” said Artemis. “It just made me feel better. They’ll give them a good sting, however.”

  Demon was puzzled. It still didn’t make any sense.

  “But why would Hades go after the unicorns?” he asked. “He’s got those hell-dragons to pull his chariot, and he must have enough ghosts around to satisfy him. And I know Persephone only cares about her gardens. Orpheus told me so.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice grim. “Believe me, though, I will find out. But first, you need to find a cure. That stupid box of yours has to be wrong. There MUST be a way to make my unicorns better.”

  “The pomegranate is obviously poisoning them,” Demon said slowly. “But how? It’s only a fruit, really, unless you’re down in the Underworld.”

  Artemis looked at him.

  “I really DON’T know what Chiron has been teaching you,” she said. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  It was quite hard to think with a goddess glaring at him as if she wanted to turn him into a beetle. Demon began to pace, his brain whirling. Then he smacked himself in the forehead. It WAS obvious.

  “The unicorns are creatures of light,” he cried triumphantly. “And those pomegranates come from the Underworld, where it’s all dark. No wonder it’s poisoning them.” Then he frowned.

  “It’s a pity I don’t have any of Hestia’s fire left,” he said. “That might have helped. But I used it all on Goldbristle the Boar when I was in Asgard.”

  Artemis raised one thin eyebrow.

  “Are you allowed that?” she asked. “Zeus gets very cross if it’s taken off Olympus. Why, poor Prometheus . . .”

  “I know all about Prometheus having his liver torn out by the Caucasian Eagle every day,” Demon interrupted her hastily. “And it’s all right. Hestia’s fine with me having her fire. I didn’t steal it, or anything.” He carefully didn’t say that Zeus had no idea about his little arrangement with the goddess of the kitchens.

  Just then all the unicorns began to thrash and moan again, and one of the hounds let out a whimper.

  “Oh no!” he said. “They’re waking up.”

  CHAPTER 10

  THE MISSING INGREDIENT

  Demon reached frantically for his pipes, putting them to his lips and blowing a short, sharp blast. Immediately, all the beasts slumped back into unconsciousness.

  What else did he have that he could use? Since the box was now useless, he began to rummage in his medicine sack.

  “Sunflowers,” he said. “They’re good light medicine. And I think I have some essence of moonflower, too, Maybe a combination of those will do it.”

  Quickly, he tipped some dried sunflower petals and a little oil into his mortar and ground them up with a few drops of the moonflower essence. When he had finished, he had a sticky gloop that glowed a pale gold.

  Gently levering one of the mistiest mare’s teeth open with a nearby stick, he tipped a few drops of the mixture in.

  Nothing happened, so he tipped in one more.

  Still nothing.

  “It’s not doing anything,” he said, feeling despair steal over him like a cloud.

  “Then think of something else that will,” Artemis growled at him. “And be quick about it. Because the foals are getting worse.”

  It was true. Some of the foals were now nothing more than a misty outline on the ground.

  Demon wanted to howl with frustration. There must be something. What was he missing? Then his eyes fell on the sickle moon, now halfway across the sky. Maybe that was why the unicorns were so thin. Maybe they’d been fighting the pomegranate poison off so hard that they were starving! What had the prophecy said? There is no help unless from the sky stars. And what was the moon if not a kind of sky star?

  “The moon, Your Silvery Serenity,” he said, excitement rising in his voice. “Can you influence the moon?”

  Artemis looked at him.

  “Of course,” she said. “I am a moon goddess, after all. But why?”

  Demon spluttered out his theory.

  “I need you to make it full,” he finished. “I think a proper dose of moonlight will cure them.”

  “Very well,” said Artemis. “But Selene will not be pleased if I meddle for too long. She’s in charge of moon matters.”

  With that, she pulled out an arrow, bigger and brighter than the rest, and attached it to a ball of silver twine she drew from out of thin air. Then she fitted the arrow to the bow, drew it back, and fired.

  Immediately, the tethered arrow sped high into the sky, higher and higher until it was no more than a silver spark in the darkness. Then Demon saw the moon tremble as it hit.

  Slowly, hand over hand, Artemis dre
w in the twine. And as she did so, the moon moved. Closer and closer it came to earth, and as it did so, the shadows dropped away from it, revealing more and more of its silvery orb, until it was round and full and fat. Gradually, the night landscape lit up until the unicorns were bathed in a light nearly as bright as day.

  One-handed, Artemis tied another arrow to the twine and fired it into a large rock nearby.

  “There!” she said. “That should hold it till moonset.”

  But Demon wasn’t looking at her or the moon. He was looking at the unicorns. Already the misty foals were firming up, and the adult unicorns were growing fatter by the second. The moonlight was feeding them.

  “Look, Your Moonlight Magnificence!” he said. “It’s working!”

  “Then wake them up,” Artemis said.

  Demon blew the wake-up call, and all around him, unicorns began to scramble to their feet. But almost immediately, Demon knew that something was still wrong. A small breeze wafted a delicious scent toward him, and as one, the herd bunched together, totally silent, their horns all facing one way. Then, with a neighing scream, they all charged forward toward a grove of trees that lay a little way off.

  “Sweet, sweet, sweet!” they neighed. “Must have more sweet!”

  In the moonlight, Demon spotted golden balls hanging from the black-leafed branches. The unicorns shouldered one another out of the way in their eagerness to get at them.

  “Oh no!” he yelled, beginning to run. “They’re eating pomegranates again!” Pulling his pipes out, he blew again desperately. As if they were cut strings, the unicorns all collapsed together in a heap. But when Demon reached the grove, the sweet smell became overpowering, so delicious that it made his mouth water. He found his hand reaching out toward one of the deadly fruits.

  “STOP!” shouted Artemis, grabbing him around the waist and lifting him up. Demon struggled as she dragged him back toward the hounds. As soon as he was away from the smell, she flung him down.

  “STAY!” she hissed, and her voice was deadlier than a nest of angry vipers. Striding back toward the grove again, the goddess reached up to the moon, drawing down several of its yellow-white beams into her hands. Shaping them into balls as she went, she began flinging them at the pomegranate trees. As each ball hit a tree, it exploded with a flash of brightness. Soon there were no more trees left, only a deep pit in the ground. But the goddess didn’t stop. Pulling down more and more moonbeams, she filled the pit until it was a lake brimming with light.

  Stalking back to where Demon lay, she reached down and picked him up by the front of his dress. Her eyes were like silver fire, and he quaked as she looked at him.

  “You have failed me, Stable Master,” she said in a voice so quiet and menacing that he went still and limp with fear. Her grip tightened. “My unicorns are still not cured. I think I shall give you to my hounds after all. Your father will forgive me. Eventually.”

  “P-p-please,” he gasped. “Give me one more chance, Your B-Bright Beautifulness. I will try again. I WILL cure them this time.”

  Artemis dropped him disdainfully.

  “You have until moonset, Stable Master. I will be back from the Underworld by then. I go to punish my uncle and his wife. If you fail, not only will I give you to my hounds, but I will set my bears on you, too.” With that, the goddess dived into the moonlight lake she had created, and disappeared.

  Demon stood there for a moment, breathing hard. His heart was crashing around in his chest like one of the fiery bulls on a rampage. He ran his hands through his too-long hair and tried not to panic.

  “What shall I use? What shall I use? Think, Demon!” he muttered to himself. Sunflowers and essence of moonflower hadn’t worked. But maybe if he added something to them. What else did he have?

  Tipping everything out of his medicine sack, he sorted through it frantically.

  “Not that, not that, not that,” he said. Then something golden caught his eye. It was a ball of fleece from the Golden Ram. That shines pretty bright, he thought, setting it aside.

  He was just getting up to fetch some of the silvery flowers that had grown out of Artemis’s tears when he felt something brush against his arm, tugging on his dress. Demon turned around. This was getting ridiculous.

  “Who ARE you?” he demanded. But there was no reply.

  Instead, a small wide-necked bottle half-full of dark dust rolled across the ground toward him, tinkling slightly. The sight of it tickled his memory. It was the stardust he had gathered on the way to send Typhon back to sleep.

  “That’s it!” he shouted, his voice echoing back at him in the eerie silence. “That’s the missing sky star ingredient!”

  As if his brain had suddenly added everything up, he now knew exactly what to do. Working fast, he plucked some of the silver tear-flowers and put them in his mortar. After that, he shook in some more sunflower petals and moonflower essence, and flipped in the ball of golden wool. Then he ran over to the moonlight lake and dipped out a measure of what seemed to be liquid light. A little of it slopped onto his fingers, where it fizzed slightly, with a feeling like hot ice.

  Carefully, he mixed and pounded everything together, then, last of all, he tipped in half of the stardust. As soon as it hit the surface of the new potion, it began to sparkle. The whole mixture began to bubble, emitting a light so bright that Demon had to squint against it as he carried the mortar carefully over to the heap of fallen unicorns.

  One by one, very carefully, he fed a drop into each unicorn’s mouth. As soon as it touched the red stains of the pomegranate, they disappeared with a sizzle. By the time he was finished, there was only a scrape of potion left in the bottom of the mortar.

  Demon closed his eyes and pulled his pipes out for the fifth time that night. Putting them to his lips and crossing every available finger, and some of his toes, too, he blew a series of trills, hoping against hope for a miracle.

  CHAPTER 11

  FEAST IN THE FOREST

  Almost immediately, he was surrounded by snufflings and tails and happy howls. The hounds had woken and come galumphing toward him on huge paws.

  “We’re awake, we’re awake!” they barked.

  As Demon blew one last trill, Moonshadow lifted his head. Then all the unicorns were surrounding him as well, the foals nuzzling him with their soft noses, their little whisks of tails flicking from side to side.

  “Are you well?” he asked anxiously, remembering to pitch his voice a little higher again. He just hoped the flower scent Artemis had made him put on was still holding. He still had to be Pandemonia.

  “Never be-he-hetter!” Moonshadow whinnied. “And all thanks to you and our Beloved Goddess!”

  “What exactly happened to you?” he asked. The mare who had asked him to save her foal pushed through the crowd of horned heads.

  “As far as I remember it,” she whinnied, “there was a bang from over there, just before moonrise. It was just as the prophecy said. A big clot of darkness erupted out of the earth, and then we smelled it. The sweetness. It was so delicious that we couldn’t resist, but once we’d eaten it, the pain came, and we started to die. I don’t really remember anything much after that.”

  As she finished, Demon noticed a large group of unicorns trotting over to where the things from his medicine sack lay strewn across the ground.

  “Don’t eat any of that,” he cried, but he needn’t have worried. The unicorns were neighing in welcome. Demon peered over to see who had come, but there appeared to be nobody there.

  He remembered the tug on his dress, and the continual feeling of being watched, which he’d had ever since he returned to Olympus.

  “Who is that they’re greeting?” he asked the mare casually, holding his breath in anticipation.

  “Oh, that’s our friend Electra,” she whinnied. “I’m surprised you can see her. She’s usually invisible.”

  Su
ddenly, Demon remembered what Alcyone had said to him in the sun boat.

  Electra’s invisible . . . she’s rather shy . . . I think she might like you!

  The seventh of the Pleiades must have followed him!

  “Oh, Electra!” he called. “Why don’t you come and say hello? I want to say thank you!”

  A tiny soft giggle reached him, and then, in the middle of the unicorns, a light began to shine. It revealed a small girl wearing a crown of living stars. As Demon stared, she floated over to him, her feet seeming not to touch the ground.

  “You do look funny in a dress,” she whispered in his ear. Demon blushed.

  “I had to,” he whispered back. “It’s a disguise.” She smiled and reached out to tug his ribbons and adjust his garland, which had slipped over one eye again, just as the moon sank behind the trees.

  Almost immediately, Artemis rose from the moonlight lake, trailing moonbeams from her robe. Her face lit up as she saw the unicorns.

  “Well, Pandemonia,” she said. “I see my hounds and bears will have to go hungry.”

  “She did very well,” said Electra, floating over and curtsying to the goddess. “I only had to give her the tiniest of hints.”

  Demon couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

  “What happened in the Underworld, if you don’t mind me asking, Your Celestial Shininess?”

  Artemis laughed.

  “It all turned out to be a big mistake,” she said. “Hades and Persephone were having one of their eternal arguments in the garden, and Persephone pulled up all the pomegranate trees in a temper and flung them at him. He threw a darkness bolt at them, and it was so strong that it carried them all the way up here. Of course, because Persephone had touched them, they grew where they fell. They were both very apologetic when they’d finished picking my arrows out of themselves. They both know how important my unicorns are.”

  Demon tried to imagine arguing with the god of death and failed miserably.