Song of the Unicorns (Avalon: Web of Magic #7)
Page 1
SONG OF THE UNICORNS
Copyright © 2012 Red Sky Entertainment, Inc.
“Music by Heart” Written by Debra Davis ©
Big Old Soul Music, Lyrics Used by Permission
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher, except where permitted by law.
Electronic Edition
Published by Premiere Digital Publishing, Inc.
Made in the U.S.A.
ISBN-10: 1938582616
ISBN-13: 978-1-938582-61-5
Cover and interior illustrations by Allison Strom
THE BLOOD-RED SUN rose above an ocean of roiling mist. Two centaurs—half man, half horse—stood on a ledge overlooking the gorge. Eliath, the first was called, shook the clinging damp from his hide and glanced north, then south.
The proud centaur lifted the silver amulet that hung from his neck. Beams of light shot from the object, casting a circular web of stars over the gorge. A line of bright stars curved along several strands.
“It should have been one clean jump,” the other one, Corinth, complained. “Palenmarth to Dalriada. We’re not supposed to be here.”
“I’d agree with you if I knew where ‘here’ was.” Eliath studied the fairy map carefully, pinpoints of light reflecting in his wide, human-like eyes. “I think we’re somewhere in the northeast quadrant near the outer edge of the web.”
“A portal must have closed us out of the jump less than halfway there.” Corinth followed where his friend pointed. The portal path they were supposed to follow curved around the center of the web and off to the northwest. Instead, they appeared to be near an uncharted area, next to a realm that shimmered with dark waves. “So close to the Otherworlds. This is the last place we want to be!”
One light blinked brightly near their position. It meant that a portal lay a short distance ahead, but the only way to get there was to cross the gorge.
“There’s another portal on the far side,” Eliath observed.
“We can’t trust the map.” Corinth swished his long tail nervously. “The magic has been too unstable all along the web.”
Eliath nodded. Both centaurs knew the risks they were taking using the fairy map now. Magic flowed uncontrolled and wild across the web, closing portals that had been open for centuries and creating new ones as yet unmapped. And now they were way off course and stranded.
“You forget how important our mission is,” Eliath said, nodding toward the wagon behind them. From inside, mournful wails wafted over the desolate place.
“I have not forgotten.” Corinth searched the edge of the gorge. “Are you sure there’s a bridge here?”
Eliath focused the bubble of light into a sharp beam. It revealed a series of interconnected flat stones twisting their way across the gorge before vanishing into the mist-shrouded far side.
“There it is!” Corinth said. “The Demon’s Crossing.”
The wide stones floated precariously, moving and shifting to the silent rhythm of ancient magic.
“That bridge goes completely across?” Eliath asked.
Corinth stamped his forelegs to keep the icy chill from seeping up his flanks. Glancing to the covered wagon behind him, the centaur frowned. “We have no choice. We can’t go back.”
The centaurs had been hand-picked to bring the cargo to its safe destination. The mission must not fail.
“Let’s just move on,” Eliath said sharply.
Corinth sighed and adjusted the shoulder straps that hooked to long leather reins connecting to the wagon.
The two centaurs moved carefully to the edge of the outcropping and stepped upon the floating bridge. It was solid as rock.
Eliath nodded. Confident the ancient bridge would hold their weight and that of the wagon, they started across.
Mist curled over the stones like smoke as the wagon jostled forward. The centaurs could barely see their hooves.
“What was that?” Corinth shuddered, looking out across the bottomless chasm.
“There’s nothing but mist,” Eliath answered. But something tingled across his shoulders, inching down his back—fear.
“I swear something is moving out there,” Corinth insisted, craning his neck to look more closely into the swirling void.
Corinth was right. In the vast mass of clouds, something coalesced into a dark shape, moving—no—swimming through the mists.
“Let’s move!” Eliath commanded.
But their steel horseshoes slipped on the damp rocks. The wagon lurched. A cacophony of screeches and whines rose from inside.
“Quiet!” Corinth hissed.
The centaurs moved quickly, the wagon only narrowly avoiding the bridge’s blunt edges and the perilous drop into nothing.
Suddenly, Corinth staggered backward, his hind legs almost slipping over the edge. Eliath released the reins from his shoulder straps and trotted to the back of the wagon. The left rear wheel was wedged in a deep crevice that had been eaten away by centuries of icy wind.
The centaur lowered his shoulder and pushed against the wagon. Again, his cargo reacted with another chorus of angry and frightened sounds.
Muscles cording tight, Eliath strained. Sweat began to pour freely down his rich brown hide.
“Pull, Corinth!” Eliath yelled. “Harder!”
A black mass flew across the wagon’s path.
The wagon rolled forward.
Breathing hard, Eliath ran to the front of the wagon. He froze.
“Corinth?” Torn reins fluttered in the wind. The other centaur had disappeared.
Snorting, Eliath tried to shake off the panic creeping into his chest. He quickly snapped the reins to his harness and pulled.
Black shapes swam all around, skimming through the mists with terrifying speed. A bolt of wild magic suddenly pierced the top of the wagon from within, sending splinters of wood flying.
“No!” Eliath called over his shoulder. “You’ll only make it worse!”
But it was too late. Like sharks to fresh blood, the mists roiled with huge black beasts. Too many! Eliath thought.
From the depths of the gorge, a razor fin sliced though the surface, coming right toward them.
With a mighty effort, Eliath pulled the wagon forward.
Bursts of light sent fireworks trailing as the wailing cries from the wagon turned to panicked screams.
Eliath tried to ignore the powerful forces building behind him. He tore the silver amulet from the chain around his neck, crisscrossing its light into a wide shield.
The monstrous creature erupted from the void, huge jaws gaping, revealing rows of long black teeth. It missed the wagon by inches, smashing into the shield and exploding into angry tatters of mist.
Eliath pulled with every ounce of his strength, trying to gauge where the next attack would come from.
The other side of the gorge was just ahead!
Eliath stopped short. Silhouetted by the crimson sun, something stood at the end of the bridge blocking the path. A figure in black armor, faceplate drawn, stepped forward. In a black-gloved hand, the knight held a staff of power. The green jewel upon its tip glowed dangerously.
Eliath drew the sword strapped to his back. Ancient Elvin magic coursed up and down its fine edges.
The evil knight raised his staff, sending bolts of foul magic into the mists.
A mistbeast sprang from the gorge, sinking teeth into wood. With a vicious shake of its massive head, it ripped out the rear wheels. The wagon fell backward, cra
shing to the stone and skidding half over the edge.
Eliath instantly threw the amulet. The glittering shield expanded, surrounding the wagon.
The startled centaur suddenly felt his neck locked in an iron grip.
Eliath desperately struggled, kicking his attacker with powerful rear hooves, but the knight was too strong. With a cry, the brave centaur was thrown into the void.
The wagon teetered perilously on the edge of the bridge.
The knight’s armor-clad hand grasped only mist as the wagon tumbled into the gorge.
Blinding light exploded, spreading into a pulsing circle inside the clouds.
With a last burst, the light vanished, taking the terrified screams with it.
THE MISTWOLF’S HOWL rang across the bright examination room of the Stonehill Animal Hospital. Dr. Carolyn Fletcher dodged the pup’s thrashing tail as she handed the syringe to her fourteen-year-old daughter, Emily. The wolf turned and snarled.
“Dreamer, watch your manners!” Adriane scolded. The dark-haired girl, Emily’s friend, was struggling to hold the squirming pup in place.
Adriane had a special bond with the young mistwolf; she was his packmate. The mistwolf locked his emerald gaze on Adriane’s dark eyes. The image of a long, sharp needle entered Adriane’s mind.
“I know, but it’s for your own good,” Adriane reassured the mistwolf pup.
“Good boy, you’re almost done.” Dr. Fletcher ran her hands over his lustrous fur, checking for abrasions or marks.
Dreamer wriggled under the vet’s touch, his front paws sliding off the examination table.
“Emily, help Adriane get him on the scale.”
Emily deposited the syringe in a disposal bin and put her arms around Dreamer’s midsection. “Easy, Dreamer, this won’t hurt. I promise.” Emily’s rainbow healing stone set in her silver bracelet pulsed soft blue as she sent waves of calm at the growling pup. She and Adriane wrangled him onto the scale.
“Stop being such a big baby,” Adriane said gently.
“Big is right,” Dr. Fletcher said, adjusting the weights.
“Thirty pounds already?” Emily’s hazel eyes widened. “He’s only three months old.”
“Hand me his chart, Doc.” Dr. Fletcher studied the scale.
A small, furry paw pushed the folder toward Carolyn’s outstretched hand.
Emily grabbed the chart and glared at the golden-brown ferret standing on a stool behind her mother.
“Just being helpful.” Ozzie smiled. His paw rested proudly on a bright golden stone secured to a leather collar. Though most people believed he was just a remarkable ferret, Ozzie was actually an elf. He had been sent to Earth disguised in a ferret’s body by the Fairimentals, the guardians of his magical home world of Aldenmor. Since receiving the ferret stone from the Fairimentals for his bravery, he’d been using it nonstop to chatter telepathically with his friends who had their own magic jewels.
“With all that special puppy chow someone’s been ordering online,” Carolyn said, eyeing her daughter, “its no wonder Dreamer’s not full grown by now.”
“Online orders?” Emily gave Ozzie a glower.
“Er, they had a special on beef bits and liver snaps,” Ozzie said.
“Dreamer will need another immunization in six months,” Dr. Fletcher told Adriane. “He’s perfectly healthy, and a magnificent animal.”
Adriane smiled. “Hear that?” she asked, attaching Dreamer’s collar, a black leather and turquoise band she had made to match the one around her wrist.
“He’s going to be well over one hundred pounds,” Dr. Fletcher continued, her brow furrowed in concern. “Black wolves are not native to Pennsylvania. And he’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
Adriane swept long, dark hair from her face.
Dr. Fletcher was right—more than she realized. This was no ordinary wolf. Dreamer was a mistwolf, an animal native to the magical world of Aldenmor. No longer was he the scraggly, scared orphan he had been just a short time ago when Adriane, Emily, and their friend Kara had found him. Under Adriane’s care, his jet-black coat gleamed like velvet, rippling over streamlined muscles built to run. Green eyes that had been dark with fear now shone like twin emerald pools. A snow-white star gleamed on his chest, and each paw was banded in white, as if he ran on clouds.
“Adriane’s been working really hard training him,” Emily said.
“Even with the best of training, Dreamer is a wild animal, and at some point might need to be cared for by specialists, for his own safety as well as yours,” her mom advised them.
As if trying to prove her right, Dreamer made a break for it, nails screeching against the metal scale. Adriane grabbed and held him.
“You’ve both been doing a great job with Ravenswood, but it’s my job to monitor the animals for the town council. We still don’t know what’s become of Stormbringer,” Dr. Fletcher said.
Emily caught the quick flare from Adriane’s golden wolf stone along with a sharp wince of pain. Stormbringer had been a beautiful silver mistwolf bonded to Adriane. During the battle with the Dark Sorceress, the evil half-animal, half-human magic master, Storm had sacrificed herself to save all of Aldenmor’s mistwolves. The pain of losing her first packmate was still very fresh, and Emily worried constantly that Adriane was keeping too much inside.
“And you!” Carolyn swung around and grabbed Ozzie, plunking the startled ferret on the scale. “You’ve gained six whole ounces in less than a month!”
“Hee-hee.”
“I’m putting you on a strict diet!”
“Gah!” Ozzie exclaimed, and was about to protest when Emily quickly covered his mouth.
“Mom, it’s your fault for giving him lasagna.” Emily poked Ozzie’s round belly.
“Lasagna! I need that!” the ferret squealed.
“From now on, it’s diet lasagna.” Dr. Fletcher smiled, patting the ferret’s head. “Who’s the best ferret in the world?”
Ozzie pointed to himself, cracking Carolyn up.
Emily sighed.
“Oh, and Emily,” Carolyn said seriously, “you really need to call your dad back and let him know what you’ve decided about winter break.”
“Yeah, I know,” Emily mumbled, her long curly hair falling over downturned eyes. Her dad had asked her to join him and his new wife on a vacation out west. She had tried not to think about it.
“Come on,” Adriane said, slipping into her vest. “We have some hungry animals that aren’t as lucky as the chubby ferret.”
“Hey!” Ozzie said. “I resemble that remark!”
PATCHES OF SNOW glinted white in the noonday light, making Emily squint as she crunched down the frozen path through Owl Creek Bird Sanctuary, one of her favorite spots on the Ravenswood Preserve. She watched diamond flakes drifting to and fro between thick, towering trunks of maples and oak. Rows of pine, resplendent in their winter greens, lined the distant ice-crested shores of the Chitakaway River.
The comfort she normally took from this place had little effect today. She was upset with her dad for marrying a woman she didn’t even know. But there was more to what she was feeling. Emily and her two friends, Adriane and Kara, were mages, users of magic, but they were young and inexperienced, with profound responsibilities placed upon them. Emily was a healer, Adriane a warrior, and Kara a blazing star.
During their battle against the Dark Sorceress, the mages had released healing magic from Avalon, the hidden home of all magic. They hadn’t heard anything from any of their friends on Aldenmor in weeks. The portal in the Ravenswood field had just seemed to vanish, leaving only nagging questions.
What did it really mean to be a mage? How long could they keep the secret? What were they supposed to do now?
“Over here, slowpokes,” Adriane called out. She was hoisting a bag from a wooden shed, one of many feed stations set among the trails of the preserve. Already several cardinals, peacocks, and white-tailed deer had gathered, waiting for the young caretakers.
“You know, it’s seventy degrees in New Mexico today,” Ozzie said, snuggled in the deep front pocket of Emily’s parka.
“Maybe you’ll like her,” Adriane said, spreading the feed into several wide troughs.
“I hate her!” Emily blurted before she could think. “They eloped and didn’t even invite me to the wedding.”
“They probably didn’t want to make a big deal about getting married,” Adriane guessed.
“I already have a mom!” Emily swallowed, suppressing the hot ache in her throat. “I don’t need some stepmom telling me what to do.”
Before Adriane could answer, Dreamer sent a mental image of forest underbrush and a pair of big ears.
Adriane frowned at the interruption. “You’re a mistwolf, not a dog. You can talk if you want to tell me something.”
“Rabbit!” Dreamer said impatiently.
“This is an animal preserve. You can’t eat rabbits!” Her dark eyes flashed with exasperation.
“Just have a little patience with him,” Emily said soothingly, instantly forgetting her own problems.
“I’ve tried! Your mom is right, Dreamer’s just getting wilder all the time. Storm never acted like this.”
Emily’s heart ached for her friend. Adriane’s bond with Stormbringer had been deeper than they could have ever imagined. That was the way with magical animals. Once bonded, it was a true friendship meant to last a lifetime.
In response to his packmate’s distress, Dreamer leaped onto the path, scattering the animals with a loud growl.
“Dreamer, no!” Adriane shouted. “They’re not hurting me.”
Emily tried to calm the frightened animals as Adriane settled Dreamer down.
The mistwolf sat and projected an image of the needle, as if its medicine could help Adriane.
“It’s not the same thing,” she tried to explain as she knelt to stroke the wolf. “Sometimes you just hurt inside.”
Dreamer gave her face a lick.
She smiled. “Thank you, yes, that’s better.” Adriane rose and faced Emily. “Sometimes I wish I could be a healer mage like you. Maybe I could have saved her.”