Melody's Unicorn

by Richard Swan

  Melody’s hopeful mood diminished. Her father had always told her she needed to try harder to get on with people, to be less moody, less angry. His own imperturbability had not been passed on to his daughter.

  ‘Is it always me who has to adjust?’ The question left Melody’s lips before she had time to call it back, but she cursed herself when she realised that it might antagonise this person whom she hoped would be on her side.

  ‘No lack of spirit, I see,’ said the voice, and the trace of amusement was still evident. ‘A shrewd question, too. But not one any of us could easily answer, at least not so early on. You’ll have to wait and see what develops, I think. And you’ll have to see what my companions here have to say on the matter.’

  While the figure had been speaking it had also moved forward, and now emerged where light from the doorway illuminated its head. The face belonged to a youngish West Indian man, perhaps thirty or thirty-five years old, with alert eyes and a soft-featured face which was framed by a cap of wiry hair. He smiled at Melody as he drew near, a smile that illuminated his features and made him look even younger. It was a face that you immediately wanted to trust, and although Melody tried to remain cautious she hoped that he would befriend her.

  ‘For my part you’re welcome here,’ he said at last, having looked carefully at her as if noting the way she relaxed in his presence. ‘I’m Corann, as you know. I see you’ve already met Ruric – and Tamar, who’s a most promising student.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ve come for the summer, and to study here, if you’ll have me. My father wanted me to come, and said you could help me learn to control and develop the power I have.’ Melody spoke formally and proudly, as she’d been taught, but there was an edge of uncertainty in her voice that she had not betrayed when her entrance into the house was being denied.

  ‘If we’ll have you?’ queried Corann with another smile. ‘You must know very little about the nature of power if you ask that. The question is, will you have us?’ And he waited, silent and patient, for her to answer.

  Melody was confused. It was true that she knew almost nothing about the way her power worked. All she knew was her own strength and her own ability. She would have to learn fast, and with this man at least she would have to be honest.

  ‘It’s true that I have very little knowledge. That’s why I came here. Will you teach me?’ As she spoke she lifted her gaze, and met the soft brown eyes that were watching her closely. She hadn’t intended the remark to sound personal, but she found that she meant exactly what she’d said. She wanted this particular man, Corann, to teach her. She was aware that her thoughts and her manner were excluding Ruric who stood behind her, and dismissing Tamar whose hostility she could feel like a physical force, but she couldn’t help it. It was their fault, she felt, for challenging her.

  ‘Naturally we will,’ Corann replied, seeming to ignore the intensity of her question and defusing the awkward atmosphere in the hall. ‘Follow me and we’ll show you the house.’

  If this was his way of calming the situation down and making everything seem more normal, it worked. He hadn’t asked Ruric and Tamar for their opinion, and as they didn’t interrupt, it appeared that they were agreeing to the arrangement. He made no reference to the broken door, nor the confrontation that he had interrupted. Instead, he simply led the way down long corridors, up dark staircases, until Melody had seen all the rooms that the house possessed. She in turn felt the anger with which she’d arrived, and the uncertainty she’d experienced when Corann appeared, both gradually melt away, so that by the time the little group of four returned to the long entrance hall there was no visible sign of the tension between them. Ruric and Tamar had followed them round, almost silent except when Corann asked them to explain the function of a particular room or object. The kitchen, the dining room, the lounge and the library, the rooms on the upper floors that were used as studies or bedrooms, all had been visited and examined.

  ‘So there’s the house,’ said Corann as they stood once more in the light from the broken door, which none of them had mentioned. ‘Do you still wish to stay, Melody?’

  ‘I definitely want to stay. That’s why I came. But is the choosing all on my side?’ And this time Melody tacitly acknowledged the presence of Ruric and Tamar, admitting that if she were to stay they would have to accept her, even if they didn’t like her.

  Corann paused and looked at her, as if seeing more in her than had first appeared.

  ‘A better question. But one more that reveals your ignorance of the ways of power. I see you have a lot to learn.’ There was another space of silence, which Melody was already beginning to realise as a feature of Corann’s character, as if he never said anything before weighing up the effect of his words. She forced herself to be patient until he should choose to continue. ‘Well then,’ he said at last, ‘we may as well begin now. Know this. The choosing is on both sides. No two people, no two beings, come together entirely by chance, and certainly do not stay together without choice. But the balance varies. If one person’s will is strong, it may take little choice from the other to draw them together. Where each chooses equally, the link may be strange and complex.’

  Melody was silent in her turn, trying to understand what was being said.

  ‘You’re wondering how strong your own will is,’ continued Corann for her, ‘or you’re wondering how strong ours is, which is part of the same question. It’s true that when two great wills confront each other there is the potential for terrible conflict, as you’ll discover. But in this instance there’s no problem. Your desire in the matter is strong, so ours gives way to yours.’ And his eyes flickered towards the front door, as a reminder of how forcefully she had expressed her will.

  Melody stirred.

  ‘But it’s not just a question of two people, is it? What happens when there’s more than two?’

  Corann smiled again. ‘You mean our companions. I said earlier that you’d hear what they had to say on their own account, but I think you’ll find that their silence since your arrival is already an answer. Ruric?’

  The dark man frowned, and was slow to speak. ‘You know I defer to your decisions. It’s your house. If you’ve accepted her, I shall do so, whatever my will.’ It seemed to Melody that this was hardly a positive answer, but Corann let it pass and turned to Tamar.

  ‘It’s not up to me,’ said Tamar shortly, and Melody didn’t need to hear the tone of his voice to know that his hostility to her was undiminished. Corann raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply directly. He turned his attention back to her.

  ‘There you are, then,’ he said, as if it was all settled. ‘The only question is which room you’ll have. At the moment there’s only the four of us here, so I should think the attic suite will be most suitable. You’ll have some privacy there, and space to spread yourself. Do you have any luggage?’

  ‘Only a suitcase, outside. I travelled light.’

  Corann nodded, accepting this. ‘And your parents are happy for you to remain here, as long as necessary?’

  Melody didn’t ask what he meant by ‘necessary’. ‘My father is. My mother’s dead. Or rather she disappeared, seven years ago. It was my father who told me about you, said that if I was so insistent on learning I’d best come here and find out what I could. He said I’d learnt little enough anywhere else.’

  ‘Well, you can contact him and tell him you’ve arrived. I’ll speak to him and make certain that he’s happy for you to remain, as long as you wish. You’ll have to work while you’re here, of course, and while you learn. But I don’t think you’ll mind that.’

  Melody shook her head. ‘No. Father’s a forester. He works all hours, and I do too. I’ve looked after the house since I could walk. And I help him too when he lets me. I’m used to making my own way.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Corann, ‘that at least is obvious. So, it’s decided. But before you’ve even settled in, I have an errand for you. I’ve got a parcel that needs taking to the post office, and it’s urge
nt. You can take it for me. Tamar will go with you to show you the way and make sure you don’t get lost. Meanwhile Ruric and I will shore up the door, at least until we can get it mended properly. We can hardly leave a gaping hole in the front of the house – this is London after all, and too many people would see it as an invitation.’

  Corann gave nobody any space to speak or protest, and so a couple of minutes later Melody and Tamar found themselves walking down the road together. Neither of them seemed willing to break the silence, and Melody wondered why Corann had sent them. The parcel couldn’t have been that urgent, and Tamar could have gone on his own, couldn’t he? Corann evidently intended that they be together, but she refused to apologise to Tamar for the incident with the door, and it was clear that he didn’t intend to apologise for insulting her.

  While they were waiting in the queue at the post office counter, Melody took the opportunity to look more closely at her new companion. Tamar was perhaps her own age or a year or two older, with a slender, elegant figure. His olive skin and black hair gave him a brooding expression, which seemed to be an extension of his personality. Melody could tell that he wasn’t happy, but it seemed to her more like melancholy than anger. She knew he didn’t like her and didn’t want to be with her, but she felt there was more to it than that. Perhaps there was something in his background, something about his family that had pushed him away and made him solitary. She made up her mind to find out more about him, if she could get past his guard of antagonism.

  She made her first attempt as they walked back to the house, by asking how long he’d been there.

  ‘A few weeks,’ he said, apparently unwilling to be dragged into conversation.

  ‘And whose idea was it for you to come?’ she persisted, wanting to draw some kind of answers from him. ‘Was it your own decision, like me, or did your parents want you to be trained?’

  He shrugged. ‘My parents didn’t care. They never liked me. I’ve got this sister – half-sister really. She’s done everything right, got good results, went to university. She’s ten years older than me. Always seen me as a waste of space. No good at school, no good at any job. No talent, according to her, apart from wrecking things. Kept saying I ought to find something useful to do, but she didn’t reckon I’d be worth anything. But I can do things. She just doesn’t know. A friend of mine told me about this place, said I could be trained to use my skills. So I came. Nothing to stay at home for.’

  ‘You’re like me then,’ said Melody, pleased to have got him to say so much. ‘No good at school, but not useless altogether. We’ve got skills, and power. What can you do especially?’

  ‘Nothing, really. And we’re not the same. You’re a girl.’

  Melody rolled her eyes and would have liked to hit him, but restrained herself. Perhaps the experience of having a half-sister had turned him against all women. She’d just have to be patient and hope he accepted her – eventually.

  It was as they turned the corner into their road that Melody saw something out of the corner of her eye, sloping away down an alleyway opposite.

  ‘Wolf!’ she cried.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ said Tamar, irritated. ‘It was a dog.’

  ‘It was a wolf. I know the difference.’

  ‘There aren’t any wolves in London.’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘Says everybody. Wolves died out in the Middle Ages. You’re dreaming.’

  ‘It was a wolf. I know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘At home, in Staffordshire, in the forest with my father. We were attacked by a wolf.’

  Tamar was frankly contemptuous. ‘Staffordshire? Wolves? Oh please. Give us a break. There aren’t any wolves any more. You saw dogs. Alsatians maybe, big dogs, sure, but not wolves.’

  Melody stopped and turned to him, cold fury in her face. ‘It was a wolf. I killed it to stop it attacking us. You may not believe in wolves, you may not have the wit to recognise a wolf, but I know. And trust me, what we just saw was another wolf.’

  ‘What you saw. I didn’t see anything much. A tail, a bit of fur, a Labrador maybe. A German shepherd, if you insist. No wolf.’

  ‘You’re a fool.’

  Tamar stared at her angrily. He clearly wasn’t used to being challenged, but didn’t know how to combat her self-assurance, and turned away in disgust. Melody meanwhile was too distracted by what she’d seen to pursue the argument further. It had been a wolf, she knew that. What did it mean? A wolf had pursued her mother, a wolf had challenged her and her father, and here was one in the back streets of Ealing. Was she being stalked across the country by dangerous forces? She didn’t want to discuss it with Tamar, but she’d have to find out. For the moment she tried to put it to the back of her mind.

  Tamar’s mood wasn’t improved when they reached the house and couldn’t use the front door. Superficially it didn’t seem much damaged, because Corann and Ruric had put the two halves back together, but on close inspection it was obvious that they’d nailed it in place so that it wouldn’t shift. Melody and Tamar had to make their way round to the back, where they found Corann alone in the kitchen making coffee.

  ‘Success?’ he said as they came in. Melody was sure he was referring to the walk rather than the posting of the parcel. It was plain that the trip hadn’t been a success, because Tamar disappeared through the door on the other side of the kitchen without a word. Corann looked at him as he passed, but didn’t speak until he’d left the room.

  ‘I was going to say something to him about taking a young lady’s luggage up to her room for her, but I don’t think he’d have appreciated it. Never mind, he’ll learn about you in time. And meanwhile you’ll cope, as we know. You’ll have to take your own case up, I’m afraid.’

  ‘No matter,’ said Melody. ‘I’ll manage.’

  It was awkward manoeuvring her large suitcase up the narrow twisting stairs to the attic, but she would rather have died than ask for help. At last she got everything in place, and was able to take stock of her new home. The attic consisted of two rooms, and a separate toilet, which also held a washbasin. The smaller room, under the eaves, had space for a single bed and a small cupboard, but little else. The treat was the second room, which was furnished as a sitting room and was relatively spacious. Bookcases lined one of the walls, filled with an odd assortment of volumes that couldn’t have been just one person’s property. She idly ran her finger along one shelf, noting both familiar and unusual titles, with some repeats that suggested that the collection had been garnered at random from various sources. There was a settee, and two chairs which didn’t match each other. Still, there was more space than she’d expected, and room for people to come and sit, if she ever made any friends in this seemingly hostile house.

  When she’d made herself at home, she went back downstairs. On the way she met Ruric, who was coming up. For a moment she thought he would pass without acknowledging her, but suddenly he turned and grabbed her right wrist. He lifted her hand and looked at it, puzzled.

  ‘Where’s your ring?’

  She bit back her anger at being addressed so peremptorily, and raised her left arm.

  ‘I’m left-handed.’

  He dropped her right arm, but made no attempt to touch her outstretched hand.

  ‘Brass. Brass? How can you do any useful work with brass?’ His tone was cold, almost sneering, and Melody felt herself close to shouting.

  ‘Yes, it’s brass. It’s all my father could afford. We’re not a rich family. I suppose you have silver, at least.’

  He smiled mockingly and raised his own right hand. On the index finger glowed the bright gold of an ancient and ornate signet ring.

  ‘Yes. Not that it’s much use to me anymore, since I lost my power. Still, it’s better than brass even now.’ And with that he turned and continued on his way upstairs.

  Melody stood for a moment, trying to calm down. She sensed that there was envy behind his rudeness. He had lost his power, as all adults
did, but he didn’t seem to have come to terms with it. He wanted to belittle her to make himself feel better. She felt that, but couldn’t feel sorry for him. He’d been too rude to her, when he needn’t have been. She waited until she was calmer before making her way down to the kitchen, where Corann was still sitting.

  ‘All right?’ he asked, and she knew from his tone that he didn’t mean her accommodation. He had heard, or partly heard, the dispute on the stairs. Melody shook her head.

  ‘Does he have to be that rude? Is he the same to everybody?’

  Corann was slow to speak. ‘No, he isn’t always like that. It’s you he objects to. But he’s had a lot of trouble in his life, a lot to put up with. Try to get on with him, and don’t be quick to judge him.’

  ‘I wasn’t judging him. He was offensive, that’s all.’

  Corann bowed his head. ‘You are quick to judge, that’s the problem. You don’t think you are, you don’t want to be, but that’s what happens.’

  Melody was about to retort when she saw the coldness of his gaze and realised that he intended to continue.

  ‘Think. Think how many times you’ve made hasty judgments, even since you arrived today.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like did you need to break the door?’

  ‘I needed to get in.’

  ‘Needed?’

  ‘OK, wanted. I wanted to get in.’

  ‘And did the door need to be broken?’

  ‘It was in the way.’

  ‘Exactly. It was in the way, so you broke it. But from the door’s point of view, it didn’t need to be broken. It was doing its job, forming a barrier between you and the house.’

  ‘That’s stupid. You can’t take into account the feelings of a door.’

  ‘You can’t, certainly. That’s why you were able to break it so easily. But things aren’t as simple as they seem to you now. That’s why you’re so powerful, where adults are weak. Adults see both sides more easily: the door’s need to remain whole as well as your need to get past it. That’s what you’re here to learn.’