The Secret Of The Unicorn Queen - Moonspell

by Gwen Hansen

  Waiting until he returned to his place in the middle of the group, Sheila rode up alongside Darian. "What was that all about?"

  "Aren't you the nosy one?" he teased.

  ''Darian!''

  "It's probably nothing to get upset about," he told her. "But unless I'm mistaken, we're being followed."

  4

  The Tomai

  The wolves still howled, and the riders still rode. Sheila's stomach was doing somersaults as she waited for the attack she was sure would come at any moment.

  Ahead, Illyria suddenly veered off the road and down a steep hillside. The riders followed silently through the dark­ness as she led them to a spot that was sheltered from sight by large pillarlike boulders.

  "We'll camp here," Illyria announced.

  "What about Dian and Nanine?" Sheila couldn't help asking.

  Myno was already lifting the saddle from her palomino unicorn. "They'll find us," she said.

  "If no one else finds us first," Darian amended. "I'll take first watch." He turned to Sheila with a sly grin. "And Sheila will take it with me.

  "But-" Sheila began.

  "Fine," Myno said before Sheila could explain that she didn't feel particularly capable of defending the camp from a pack of wolves, much less anyone who might be following.

  Sheila gave her bedroll a longing glance. Protesting would do no good, she knew; no one ever got out of watch. With a sigh, she adjusted the sword at her side and left the relative safety of the boulders.

  It took her a moment to make out Darien's form against the side of a cyprus tree. Since he was not exactly her favorite person at the moment, Sheila turned in the opposite direction and set off along the slope of the hill. She made a mental note of the hollows in the hillside, the shadows cast by the trees—any place where someone might be concealed.

  Keeping watch was a game of nerves. It was some comfort to know that the unicorns, unwilling to stay within the camp, were also roaming the hillside. Sheila knew they would sense most sorts of danger long before an enemy had the chance to come close. Still, the unicorns were already skittish, and the threat of the wolves might easily mask some other danger. It seemed now that the howling was coming from a spot directly above camp. How far away were they, she wondered. Twenty yards? Thirty? Or less?

  "Where are you going?"

  Sheila jumped straight into the air at the sound of a hushed voice behind her. She whirled on Darian furiously. "Thanks to you, I'm supposed to be out here listening for intruders, so I'd appreciate it if you would shut up and leave me alone."

  He stepped back in surprise. "You're as edgy as the uni­corns.

  "You scared me half to death," Sheila hissed, trying to keep her voice to a whisper. "When will you stop sneaking up on people?"

  Darian eyed her thoughtfully. "Are you really so angry about being put on watch? You would have had to do it sooner or later anyway.

  "You could have let me decide when."

  "But then I'd be out here with Myno or someone.”

  Sheila glared at him

  "I didn't think you would mind," he said, his voice some­how innocent. "With everything that's been going on, we’ve barely had a chance to see each other lately. I thought this would be a good chance to talk."

  "Oh," said Sheila, her anger dying down as quickly as it flared up.

  "You've been acting, I don't know—strange—lately. Mostly when it comes to Micula."

  Sheila slid down against the trunk of a tree with a sigh. “Darian, have you ever wanted to work magic?" she asked.

  "Doesn't everyone?"

  "Probably," she agreed. "But I mean really want it. As much as you wanted to learn the sword."

  "Once… but being a warrior, that's something I've wanted ever since I can remember." He sat down beside her and his voice became gentle. "What's wrong—you don't want the magic badly enough?"

  "I don't know," Sheila admitted. "All I know is that it scares me. Micula scares me. And, besides, I'm really not very good at it.''

  "Micula's a strange one," Darian said. "I think anyone who's steeped in so much magic gets changed by it. Illyria once said that Micula travels roads not ordinarily meant to be traveled, and that they've marked her. Sometimes I think she even makes Laric nervous.

  "But Laric works his own magic.

  "Not at her level," Darian said. "Anyway, you know you can trust her. And she wouldn't waste her time working with you if you didn't have any ability."

  ''Are you sure?”

  "Positive." Darian stood up, held out his hand, and pulled Sheila to her feet. "Now, if I remember correctly, you and I are supposed to be keeping watch."

  "Oh, right," Sheila said, realizing that the fear she had felt all night had slipped away while she and Darian were talking. She never knew exactly what it was that was between them. Although they had kissed once or twice, they weren't really romantic—at least not like Illyria and Laric. And there were plenty of times when they got on each other's nerves, Still, underneath it all, they were definitely more than friends.

  "Someone’s coming," Darian whispered suddenly, draw­ing his sword without a sound. They both listened for a long, tense moment. Then Darian sheathed his blade. The sound of light hoofbeats approaching was now clear. "It must be Nanine and Dian," he said.

  "The wolves," Sheila said. "They're not howling anymore.

  "That doesn't mean anything. The pack is still nearby—I can feel it. Come on." He nodded toward the enclosure of boulders. "We'd better tell Illyria they're riding in."

  Sheila began to follow him back to the camp, and then remembered something. "Darian," she called.

  “What?"

  "You said you once wanted magic as much as you wanted to be a warrior. What made you want it?"

  He turned to face her, and his answer took her breath away. “You," he said. "There was one time I wanted magic more than I wanted anything in this world. You were risking your neck for me, and I was sure you were going to get killed, and I thought that if I could only work magic, I could save you.”

  Sheila looked deep into Darian's eyes. Even in the dark, they shone warmly. "And what happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.

  "The usual." Darian kissed her lightly on the nose and mussed her hair. "You saved me.”

  "It sounds like the Tomai," Illyria pronounced after listening to the report given by Nanine and Dian. The riders had in­deed been followed. There were about ten pursuers on foot, ­men and women wearing saffron yellow robes and armed with knives and spears. "Their tribe has suffered from the storms," the Unicorn Queen explained. "They are simple people—most of them either farm or fish. But now their fields have been flooded, their fishing boats lost at sea.

  "So why are they following us?" Darian asked.

  It was Micula who answered. "I doubt any of them have seen unicorns before," she said. "They may well be linking their misfortune to these strange creatures with horns in the middle of their heads. In any case, our beasts must be making them very uneasy.”

  Zanara-Ki slipped. her knife out of its sheath and ran a finger along the blade. "Do you think they will attack us?" she asked with mild curiosity.

  "Not if we don't provoke them," Nanine replied.

  "How do you know that?" Myno demanded. "I'm not looking for a fight, but I don't like being followed. Why don't we just scare them off? If we turn around and confront them, they're sure to lose interest in us fast."

  Pelu, who was as gentle as Myno was fierce, offered an­other solution. "The unicorns are creatures of good. Surely the Tomai will see that if we bring them into the camp.

  Darian shook his head. "I'm with Myno."

  "So am I," said Dian.

  Sheila was just about to side with Pelu when Illyria broke in. "We are not taking a vote," she declared firmly. "The unicorns are growing more uncontrollable by the hour. I'm not at all sure they would appear as creatures of good to anyone who had never seen them before. And I'm certainly not about to let them loose on a group of unsu
specting farm­ers. If the unicorns feel threatened, we could have a slaughter on our hands. What's crucial now is to get them to Ryudain by full moon. That means we don't have time to spend fight­ing or befriending the Tomai." She turned to Dian. "How far away are they?"

  "About an hour behind us."

  "Then we have to ride out now," said Myno.

  "Wait," Sheila broke in. For some reason the image of the candles at the crossroads came to her, and with it an idea. “I think I know a way to scare them off without anyone get­ting hurt. If we don't, we'll always have to worry about them trailing us.”

  "Yes?" Illyria gave her an encouraging glance.

  Sheila took a deep breath. “It doesn't involve fighting or magic, but I think it just might work...."

  The night was still dark as the riders spread out along the road, keeping the wild part of the herd well behind them. They were waiting for the Tomai, and like all waits, this one seemed endless.

  A whicker from Quiet Storm finally announced that some­one was approaching. At once Sheila slipped off Morning Star and took her backpack off. Reaching into it, her hand closed on a long thin cardboard box and another much smaller one. She drew them out, hoping her great brainstorm was going to work. Micula had not been impressed with the plan, but then Micula never really approved of the "tricks" in her backpack.

  Opening the longer box, Sheila removed a handful of sparklers, the kind used on the Fourth of July, and handed two to each rider, along with a couple of matches. Despite the demonstration Sheila had given back in the camp, Dian and Pelu examined theirs doubtfully, as if wondering how these sticks could really be different from any others.

  Sheila got back up on Morning Star and waited nervously for the right moment to light the sparklers. She knew they wouldn't stay lit very long, and it was important that the Tomai see them all lit. As soon as I hear the first footstep, she told herself, and then realized that like almost everyone she had encountered in this world, the Tomai were probably masters at moving silently through the darkness. In fact, as far as she knew, she was the only one here who couldn't slip si­lently through the night.

  Morning Star, who had been standing quietly, suddenly turned her head around and gave a quiet whinny. Absently Sheila ran her hand along the unicorn's nose and then froze. this was what she had been waiting for. The unicorn was tell­ing her it was time to act.

  "All right," Sheila whispered, lighting her sparkler. Warily the other riders followed her example. Sheila heard Dian muffle a gasp of awe as her "stick" began sending its shower of sparks into the night.

  Seconds later a man's voice called out in alarm. A wom­an's shriek followed it, and then a handful of men and women dressed in tattered yellow robes confronted the line of war­riors, each mounted on a horned beast and holding a burning star in the dark of the night.

  Backing away from the sparklers' light, the Tomai defi­nitely looked scared. Unfortunately, though, they weren't run­ning. In fact, they seemed transfixed by the fiery display. Sheila had a sinking feeling that her plan was about to back­fire.

  Micula's voice broke the standoff with an order that seemed to echo through the night. "You must return to your village at once," she said. "Go now and you will not be harmed."

  "The stars," said one of the women in a quavering voice. "You hold the stars in your hands."

  "Go back now,' Micula repeated.

  An elderly man, toothless and hunched over, stepped for­ward, chanting, "They bring the stars, they brought the storms.''

  Sheila wasn't sure that was the connection Micula wanted them to make, but she soon realized it wouldn't last long any­way. One by one the sparklers were burning out, and one by one the riders were frantically trying to light the backups be­fore the effect of their illusion vanished completely. Equally fascinated by the disappearance of the stars, the Tomai began edging closer to the riders, their spears drawn.

  "You would disobey me?" demanded Micula. Sheila realized that the sorceress's voice had changed. It was deeper, louder, echoing across the land with the authority of a god­dess.

  The Tomai stopped their advance.

  "I will only tell you once more. Return to your homes now!"

  The tribespeople hesitated a moment too long. "Then by the dark of the moon, I send you," Micula com­manded, and chanted an incantati9n in a language Sheila did not recognize.

  A wall of stars shot up from the ground, making a mockery of the tiny sparkler display that had preceded it. Tiny dazzling white suns filled the night and moved toward the line of Tomai. Sheila flinched as she smelled one of the saffron robes being singed and heard the shrieks of the Tomai fill the air. They ran from Micula's stars as if they would never stop, and the stars followed them along the road.

  "How long will they last?" Sheila asked in a shaky voice.

  "Until the people are back in their village," Micula said in her normal voice. "No one will be hurt, but I wish that hadn't been necessary."

  "And I," Illyria said, sounding weary. "Let's return to the camp and hope they stay away."

  5

  The Summoning

  On the third leg of their journey, the riders set out well before nightfall. They continued along the inland road until it wound its way back to the sea. This was as it should be, Illyria assured them. They would continue along the coast until the place where the Caolin River joined the sea, then follow the river inland to Ryudain. The wind was still fierce, and the ocean swells high. The unicorns seemed to be feeding on the energy of the wind, breaking into a gallop wherever the road was wide enough. At one point it dipped down to the edge of the sea, and Sheila found herself part of a wild race through the break­ers, salt spray soaking them all.

  It was almost dusk when Sheila realized she hadn't seen Darian for a while. She scanned the line of riders. He wasn't ahead of her; perhaps he was bringing up the wild herd that was running behind. As she twisted around in her saddle, she saw him galloping full speed in the distance. Someone was sitting in the saddle in front of him, but they were too far away for her to make out who it was.

  Shielding her eyes from the setting sun, Sheila tried to see more clearly.

  "Why have you stopped?" asked Zanara-Ki, riding up be­side her. "Is something wrong?"

  "I don't know." Sheila pointed toward Darian. "Who's that riding with him?"

  Zanara-Ki sat quietly for a moment before answering. "I have no idea, but from the way he's sitting, I would say his hands are bound behind his back. It looks like Darian's got himself a prisoner,"

  As Darian drew closer it became apparent that Zanara-Ki was right. Sheila was soon able to see that the rider in front of him was a boy of about twelve. His face was bruised, as if he had gotten the worst of a fight, and even though his hands were bound behind him, he was still struggling, trying to twist out of Darian's grasp. Grim-faced, Darian rode past the other riders, not stopping until he reached Illyria.

  "A present for you," he said angrily, shoving the boy out of the saddle and onto the ground.

  Sheila saw that the boy wore the saffron robes of the Tomai. He was slightly built with curly brown hair, light hazel eyes, and a face that could have looked angelic were he not so furious. He remained on the ground, straining against the leather thong that bound his wrists and glaring defiantly at the riders who surrounded him,

  "Why have you brought him here?" Illyria asked.

  Darian drew a long curved knife from his belt. "This is his. He was sent to cut the throat of the 'white mare with the black horn.' " Sheila felt her chest tighten as she recognized Morning Star's description. "He's to return with the unicorn's blood."

  "How do you know that?" Sheila asked, not wanting to believe what she'd heard.

  "He told me… after a little persuasion."

  "You know better than to mistreat a prisoner," Illyria said, her voice dangerously low.

  "He wasn't my prisoner at the time," Darian retorted. "And you don't have to feel sorry for him. He's stronger than he looks. It'll be days
before I can sleep on my side again."

  Micula stepped forward, took the knife from Darian, and turned it over carefully. "This is a sacrificial knife," she said. "I think they hope to stop the flooding, perhaps even the wolves, by offering the unicorns' blood."

  "Apparently the Tomai have recovered from last night's scare," Illyria said. "We have no choice now but to outride them. Darian, keep the knife and release the boy."

  Darian looked at his sister with disbelief. "Do you think taking his knife is going to stop him? Or the rest of his tribe?"

  "Do as I say," Illyria ordered.

  Darian shook his head. "I'm not setting him free."

  Illyria's blue eyes narrowed at her brother's defiance. "We don't keep prisoners. You know that."

  "Look at him," Darian snapped. "He's still fighting. Let him go, and I promise you that within the hour he'll be after the unicorns again. Besides, if we keep him, the rest of his tribe will come looking for him. He's the perfect bait. We can use him to set a trap for the Tomai and stop them once and for all.''

  "There is no time for traps," Illyria said, trying to master her own impatience. "Our job is to get the unicorns safely to Ryudain before full moon. I will not delay them so you can engage in petty strategies against a tribe of terrified people."

  Darian's voice was filled with contempt. "No, you'd rather risk letting the Tomai sacrifice the unicorns. I thought you were warriors," he said, "all of you. And all you want to do is run.

  "That's enough out of you," Myno broke in angrily. "There's only one leader in this group, and if you think you're too good to follow her, you know what you can do."

  "No," Illyria said quietly. "However rude my brother may be, there is sense in what he says. If I were looking at this purely from a fighter's viewpoint, I, too, would consider set­ting some sort of trap for the Tomai—though my trap would not risk the life of a boy who's barely grown. But this time we don't have the luxury of strategies and waiting games. We are sworn to protect the unicorns. I repeat. It is our job to bring them safely to Ryudain, and I will allow nothing to interfere with that." She turned to Darian, her eyes hard and unyield­ing. "Do you understand me?"