by Sean Platt
Edward almost wanted Fiona to continue — to connect the remaining dots for him — but she didn’t have to and knew it. Instead of saying more, she turned and walked deeper into the rock, following Cerberus and the other unicorn crews. Edward allowed himself to lag, looking into the various branches, peering toward the open spaces at their ends that Cerberus called “stations.”
Edward looked at the growing network, trying to see it as a leap of faith on behalf of the unicorn population. No matter how long he looked, it still felt more dangerous than risky. They were giving the humans keys to innumerable worlds, and immediate access to other points in their own. They wouldn’t be able to use the tunnels without a unicorn guide, but did it really matter? Fiona had said it herself: Humans were tenacious and never gave up. Were the unicorn failsafes good enough?
As construction proceeded, Edward’s questions multiplied. The more he asked, the more Cerberus clipped his answers, steering Edward away from the subject and rolling his eyes. He told Edward not to worry — the entire Blessing was behind the project, nothing could change at this point anyway, and Edward’s understanding was, frankly, not required. He was Ambassador to The Realm. That meant almost nothing. The tunnels could now be accessed without entering The Realm at all (though some crews always went in that way for appearances’ sake), and getting human “permission” these days was about as difficult as getting permission from a basket of primroses. The job would be done in the way that was best, whether Edward got the details or not. He might as well just let it go.
Edward went to visit the tunnels and was turned away. He was told that the sections he wanted to see were being reinforced because they were unsafe. When Edward went to visit Cerberus on-site, workers said he was unavailable. Visits at Cerberus’s haven were less frequent, and when they did talk, they said nothing of the tunnels. Edward asked Fiona and the other elders for answers, but they’d grown weary too, and sent him to Cerberus, who sent the unicorn home.
The project began to bother him more and more. Yar, it was a risk. Yar, it was a way of making the best of a bad situation that someone else started, by training humans not to use their access to the Wellspring. But if they were to partner with the humans as Adam had suggested, why not do it in the way Adam had actually meant? Why not move into The Realm and teach humans to use their minds and small amounts of magic in the right ways, not unlike how he had trained David? They shouldn’t be giving humans their drug when they could control the supply. They should be weaning them instead. Adam had spoken of the human race as if they were gems. The other unicorns treated them like explosives. Humans were causing magic and inspiration to leak, and the unicorns wanted to build a reservoir and pumping station. Edward thought the unicorns should treat the disease’s cause, not its symptoms.
Every time he tried to bring his ideas up to Cerberus, Cerberus changed the subject and assured Edward that the tunnels were filled with back doors that only the unicorns knew of. He said that the end goal was to return the creatures to the other worlds — to make them feel safe enough to return, so they could resume pouring their stories into the Wellspring and prevent the humans from tearing the worlds or magic further. That was all that mattered, and the right solution had to be the one that made it happen.
Months passed as the tunnels were expanded and developed. Edward began to feel like Grappy. He knew what should be done, but no one would listen. The world was a dark peach tree about to erupt.
When the Seven Nation Army arrived on The Realm’s doorstep, it did.
CHAPTER 29
THE SEVEN NATION ARMY
They came under banners, each representing one of the Seven Nations. Their weapons were not raised, but they came in force, each nation’s contingent over a thousand strong. Most didn’t need weapons. Through their unique magic, they were weapons. And with nearly ten thousand beings and creatures arriving at the lip of the tunnels, their intention was clear. They’d already pushed in through the gates past the unprotesting humans. They’d already crowded out the merchants’ carts and tradesmen. Their feet trampled the castle lawn. Realm guards watched them blandly, holding spears and tridents and swords, wielded with the malice of brooms. They had not come to discuss. The Seven Nation Army had come to command.
Edward heard them coming. He was sleeping late, knowing there was little he could do with the day other than graze and pretend he mattered to the forward progress of his kind. When he heard the tromping of boots and bare feet, he bolted up and ran. The winding trail through the hills and past the former site of Adam and Eve’s haven seemed to stretch farther than it ever had, despite his longer legs. He considered using his magic to fold the distance but didn’t want to try; he was too new to folding and might have made the distance worse.
His skin prickled as he crested the final hill, bringing the haven’s old grounds into view. The Realm, with its tall castle spires, was visible across an enormous distance. Again he considered folding, now that the path was straight, but it seemed faster to thunder on than to stop and concentrate.
Minutes passed. As the horizon rolled forward, Edward began to see more of The Realm — the length of the castle’s towers, the tops of buildings, the wall itself. And with the wall, he saw what was at the gate — a seemingly never-ending line of bodies in colors. He expected a fight. He was denied both quarrel and entry. The Seven Nation Army blocked the gate like a plug. An enormous red beast with gigantic horns on its head held up a hand and ordered him back. Edward lowered his head, and his horn glowed. Three sorcerers stepped in front of the red thing and held glowing palms to match. Edward cycled down, stood back, and waited to see what was next.
He began to call the other unicorns, but there wasn’t a point. Many were already in the tunnels, and those who weren’t had already gotten calls from the unicorns who’d seen the Army. He could feel them approaching. Their tread sounded less panicked than his; the unicorns in the tunnels who’d spoken to the Army must have reported something that Edward hadn’t caught.
He waited. And watched.
The Seven Nation Army watched Edward back. Not with malice, though he almost wished they would, because their casual glances made it clear that he wasn’t a threat. After a while, after Edward began to feel the unicorns arriving behind him, the Army began to withdraw like a long snake backing out of a hole. He watched the uniform colors and banners as they emerged.
Warriors in blue.
Damsels in white.
Jesters in orange.
Legends in red.
Royals in purple.
Sorcerers in brown.
Creatures in black.
Each nation was in a line five wide, each over a thousand strong, each holding magic that Edward had felt but never experienced. Every face was straight and determined. Edward felt his own face fight to stay strong as he met them alone.
The unicorns came from behind. Fiona, the elder on scene, led the procession. Cerberus, who oversaw the project, trotted beside her. Behind them were the hundreds of unicorns who had been building the tunnels. It had to be all of them. That meant the tunnels were deserted. Edward felt vulnerable. He hadn’t built the tunnels, but his race was responsible. He imagined a small party from the Army entering now, poking the doors and ferrying through stations, easily opening the portals and gasping at how completely the unicorns had betrayed them. They had pulled back — apparently to regroup and arm up — because they’d been robbed. But what was underground in The Realm wasn’t just a transgression. It was a planned, systematic, thorough system of infiltration. It was a promise to the Army that both the unicorns and humans planned to continue robbing them blind for millennia to come.
The other unicorns arrived, and the two groups joined together. A few horns began to cycle and glow as the elders shouted commands to stand down. Unicorns were very powerful and nearly immortal, but very and nearly wasn’t good enough in the face of ten thousand beings that were angry and in possession of unfamiliar magic. The intention was always to avoid conf
lict. That’s why the tunnels were supposedly built. But that plan relied on the thieving hand remaining hidden. Now they’d been caught, and there was no way to say whether the worlds could be salvaged.
A man in a long gray robe emerged from the Army’s ranks holding a long and gnarled staff. His robe had a hood. He pushed it back as he stepped toward Fiona, who stood at the head of the unicorns. He had long, wavy gray hair topped with a pointed, wide-brimmed hat. On his face was a tangled gray beard and deep blue eyes the color of a unicorn’s. He walked forward casually as if stepping into a chat. But his old, wrinkled countenance did not smile, and his eyes, deep in their cradles of wrinkles, watched the unicorns with confident appraisal. His robe differed in color from the brown of those behind him, but the man was clearly a sorcerer.
“I am Rowen,” he said. “This party has chosen me to lead them, and so I have.”
“I am Fiona,” Fiona answered. “I speak for the unicorns.”
Rowen nodded. “You know why we’ve come.”
Edward looked at the ranks of the Army. Every being radiated a breed of magic so strong it wafted like heat from their bodies. Fiona didn’t respond; she either didn’t perceive Rowen’s words to be a question or was being stubborn.
“You have transgressed,” Rowen said. “We have noticed your holes in our worlds.” He gestured across the Army behind him. “All of our worlds.”
“Yar,” said Fiona.
“We have come to investigate.”
Edward looked again at Fiona. She wasn’t frightened, nor did she seem in any way surprised. She had arrived without hurry, as if trotting out to feel sky on her mane. She looked through The Realm gates. A group of humans was huddling, half-bent at the waist as if expecting to be struck. None came forward.
“Your fight is with them,” she said.
Rowen looked at the cowering humans. The group shuffled back, each taking refuge behind another. They hadn’t been called onto the carpet until now; they’d simply come to watch and gawk. Fiona attempting to turn the Army’s wrath on them was shocking. Edward could see a few begin to unhinge.
“With them?” said Rowen. “Oh no. I believe our quarrel’s with you.”
“They are the ones who caused the incursion that siphoned your riches. They are the ones who held the door open. They are the ones who took without giving back. We thought the borders had been sealed long ago, but they had not. Some have been traveling back and forth since.”
Edward thought of the Sandman and Saul the piper. Were they to blame for this? It had never occurred to Edward until now, when Fiona’s use of the phrase “traveling back and forth” had jostled his memory. Saul was a courier, the Sandman a gatekeeper. It had all felt very official when Edward had gone through as if the Sandman’s gate were a sanctioned means of crossing borders. But there was so much he didn’t know.
“You’ve been building the doors,” said Rowen. “You have been helping them.”
“We’ve been trying to control them.”
Rowen shook his head. He walked toward the humans, leaving the Army in place. The humans looked as if they wanted to flee but seemed too terrified to move as if frightened that the sorcerer would strike them down if they tried.
“Who is your leader?” he asked.
The humans said nothing.
Rowen turned. “So these are our great foes? I could lay waste to this place myself.” He paced toward Fiona. “Tell me,” he said. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice? You are a unicorn, and there have been unicorns among us from time to time in the past. You know magic. You know how the borders work, and you know not to purge them. You know how hard it is to do so, now that those borders have re-solidified and the magic has again become whole. You must have known we’d feel it. Yet you have sided with these creatures to prey on us unseen, when unicorns, more than any race, know you have the same access to us and our magic through the Center.”
Center. He had to mean the Wellspring. There was something happening, deeper than Edward had realized. The parties all understood the rules and how things worked.
“Yar, we knew you would feel it.”
Edward snapped his head toward Cerberus. His eyes were locked on Edward, not Fiona and Rowen. Yar, he’d known it too.
“So you have betrayed these people. You wanted us to do your dirty work, and have intruded on us in order to do it.” He shook his head slowly. Behind him, the Seven Nation Army stirred. Giant beasts with boulder-sized arms and gnarled faces crouched and rose as if stretching or eager to strike. Warriors touched the hilts of their swords. Damsels fingered delicate daggers with one hand, concealing the other, surely reaching for something deadlier.
“Maybe,” said Fiona.
Rowen walked closer, a few steps from Fiona. “What are you hiding?”
“We are hiding nothing. The humans have leeched magic from you. They have stolen your people in some cases and dragged them into our world from others. Some have gone traveling in your world and become lost.” She projected her voice toward the humans then continued more loudly. “They will not even step up to defend themselves. They will not apologize nor make amends. They are a disease. You may lay waste to them, then challenge us if you wish.”
“You will fight?”
“We will fight.” Fiona again projected her voice toward the humans. “But you must fight us through them. With them in front, as shields. Your weapons will find them first because we will hide behind their quivering bodies. You will have to burn their town to reach us. You will have to … ”
“Enough,” said a voice.
A man walked to the front of the humans. He was holding a hoe, but Edward could tell that he wasn’t a farmer. He was a nobleman. He was wearing a crest that marked him as a member of the royal line, but his shoes were dirty and even across the distance, Edward could see calluses on his palms. Why was he working the dirt as a nobleman? And why was he working the dirt at all in a community with three magic pipelines entering the city?
Rowen turned toward the man. “Who are you?”
“I am Cyrus.”
“And who are you, Cyrus?”
“I am human. That is enough.”
Edward had all the pieces to see who the man was. He wore the royal crest, meaning that he was kin to King William. He also had David’s piercing blue eyes, and Edward could feel that same small tug in his chest he’d felt when he’d first met David in almost the exact place as he stood now. Looking around, he realized that the other unicorns could feel it too. He didn’t know precisely who Cyrus was, but he knew what mattered. He was descendent of David, and he’d inherited what none of David’s other descendants had: nobility that couldn’t be granted by birth.
“Did you know, Cyrus? Do you understand what we speak of?”
“My family has overstepped our bounds. I allowed it to happen.”
“You allowed it to happen? Are you the leader of your people?”
Cyrus shook his head. “No. My brother is King. But I knew what he was doing and did not fight. I did not go to the unicorns, who might have been able to help. I did not step into the tunnels as they were being built.” He looked around. “The same as everyone who stands before you.”
Fiona smirked. Edward saw the unseen piece. Fiona hadn’t considered this a gamble. She’d wanted them to get caught. He found himself remembering Adam, and what he’d said about how conflict was what ground the gears of the world.
“Then you want to fight,” said Rowen.
“I do not want to fight,” Cyrus replied. “But I am willing to accept what I’ve done, and if you choose to fight me, I must.”
It looked like Rowen and Cyrus might be building a bridge, but a man with wild blond hair in bright gold and red robes burst past Cyrus, almost knocking him to the dirt — King William, waving a scepter with menace, and yelling something incoherent. He seemed to realize that no one else was yelling or fighting with him, so he backed off until, a moment later, a contingent of royal guards came forward with weapons in h
and. They’d lost their usual vacant expressions. Edward realized the king had already whipped them into a frenzy before leaving his castle. Ironically, he’d only come forward with his men after believing the standoff was about to end peacefully. If the Seven Nation Army had attacked, the king could have remained in his stronghold and waited until the war was over. Not fighting meant concession, and the king would have none of that.
Duly surrounded and protected by his guards, the king turned to face the gathered crowd. He ignored Cyrus and addressed the masses.
“These people have come to take what we have!” he blurted. “We built this city! We rebuilt this city! My great grandfather snatched control from the tyrant Goliath, and we have grown and prospered and built lives here! And now they want to come in and turn it all off?” He pointed an accusing finger at Rowen, his rage still turned on his people. “Do you understand? They will not turn around and leave. They will take all that you have! You will become slaves! You will toil through your lives, breaking your backs! Our prosperity will vanish if they sever our connection to the magic. We will not be able to build! We will be forced back in time! Your every comfort and pleasure will be ripped from your life. No picture shows. No books. No new creations, no moving forward. We will move backward. Do you understand? The Realm will cease to exist, back to the warring tribes we were before, huddled over fires with nothing. Are you really willing to roll over?”
The people stirred. They looked shocked, but shocked was better than inert.
