Melody's Unicorn

by Richard Swan

  She said no more, and the rest of the journey passed in silence, her father concentrating on steering the unwieldy vehicle through unsuitable traffic, and Melody alone with her thoughts.

  Home was a cottage on the outskirts of the city; a small place they’d moved to after her mother vanished. It wasn’t grand and it wasn’t spacious, but it was enough for them and they had settled there quite readily. It was easy to get out to Cannock Forest where her father worked, and its quietness suited them. Melody was pleased to see it again, and went and put her things in her room while her father made lunch. It was an odd feeling returning to her own bedroom. It had the air of a place that hadn’t been used for years, yet to her only a few days had passed since she’d last slept there. Her things were all still where she’d left them, as she expected – her father had neither tidied them away as if he thought she was never coming back, nor kept them like a shrine to her memory. He’d put a few extra things in, using the room a bit like an attic, but there was nothing that couldn’t be removed easily, leaving her room just as it had been – her room. She sat there for some minutes, thinking over all that had happened since she’d left. When she went downstairs she was in pensive mood.

  Although they settled down as if to talk, it was some while before either spoke at all. They sat looking at each other, judging the changes that the missing years had brought. Melody’s father looked just the same, she thought, although the hair at his temples had turned slightly grey. She herself, she knew, presented a much more altered appearance although she was only a few days older than when she’d left, and she wondered what her father would make of it. At length he broke the silence.

  ‘Foreign parts, eh?’ he said. ‘Very foreign parts, I gather. I can’t say it suits you, exactly, but there’s something there that wasn’t there before. Older, I would say. Still my daughter, though. Always my daughter.’

  Melody smiled. ‘You haven’t changed at all. You’ve managed OK without me, haven’t you?’

  ‘Managed, yes. I always manage.’

  ‘I know. That’s how I could go away so easily. I didn’t have to worry about you. Did you worry about me?’

  It was his turn to smile. ‘Not more than usual. There were moments I wasn’t sure, but I kept telling myself you’d turn up. And here you are.’

  ‘Here I am. Back, but only briefly. I wanted to see how you were, and let you see I’m OK. But I can’t stay. There are things I have to do.’

  ‘I guessed. Do you know what they are?’

  ‘Not exactly. That’s another reason I’m here. I thought you might be able to help.’ With that, Melody told him the full story of her eventful days, of the strange encounters and the strange words that had been spoken to her. He was silent for a long time after she’d finished.

  ‘I can’t say I’m surprised at anything you’ve said. I was expecting it, or some of it. There’s been enough going on here too to make me wonder.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Wolves, and worse than wolves, for a start. Big cats, a puma maybe. And once, I think, something stranger. There were odd tracks. The earth is stirring, and not in its usual ways. I wish your mother were here, she would understand such things. Ieuan shakes his head and won’t talk of it, but I think he knows.’

  ‘Ieuan? Who’s Ieuan?’

  ‘Ah, of course you haven’t met him. He’s been working with me for about three years. Not long after you disappeared, in fact. Terrific forester, came from the Forest of Dean. Says his folks are connected with the Free Miners there. He’s a short man, almost a dwarf, but he’s strong. He can cut a tree faster than I can, and shift the trunk with his bare hands. And he knows things, about the forest, about the earth. I’ve worked in those woods for thirty years, but he can tell me things about the trees which I never knew. I think you ought to talk to him.’

  Melody nodded. ‘I will. When can we see him?’

  ‘Tomorrow. You can come to work with me, and we’ll meet up with him there. We’re due to cut a stand of trees.’

  ‘And you think he might be able to tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘He might. He spotted the wolves, you see, and the big cat. He talks to the dryads, just like you did. He doesn’t tell me much, but he knows a lot.’

  ‘Wolves, and dryads,’ said Melody, half to herself. ‘Just like Hyde Park. Have you seen the wolves? Have you spoken to the dryads?’

  Her father hesitated. ‘I’ve seen the wolves. You can’t miss them, and they seem to be more common this year. And a dryad spoke to me, just once. I was in the heart of the forest, clearing some saplings near an old oak, when I became aware that I was being watched. I turned round and saw this figure. Not threatening, not hostile, just watchful. Making sure I cut the right saplings, I reckon. Anyway, it spoke to me.’

  ‘What did it say?’

  ‘It said, “She’s safe”.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘Nothing else. Just that. And I knew it was talking about you, and it’s one of the reasons I haven’t worried. I didn’t need to know any more, and I haven’t seen one since. That was enough.’

  ‘But Ieuan talks to them?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve seen him once or twice, in the distance, and anyway he’s told me so, more or less. Whenever I ask him how he knows something he says, “I have my sources”, and smiles. His sources aren’t all part of this world.’

  Melody felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. She wanted information, it was true, but part of her worried about what she might hear from such a man. Still, she hadn’t any choice, and she would soon know.

  ‘Tomorrow, then?’

  ‘Yes,’ said her father, and they moved on talk of more ordinary things.

  That night Melody had a dream, or what seemed like a dream. She was asleep in her bed in the familiar but strange room to which she’d returned, and something huge had landed on the roof of the house. Even in her dream she knew it was the same creature she had glimpsed on the cathedral when she’d arrived in Lichfield, and been aware of in London. There was the same paradoxical sense of intense heat, and with it a chill, which she felt all through her body. The creature was dark, and winged, and it shifted its weight on the roof so that the tiles moved and creaked with the burden. For a frightening second Melody was convinced it would buckle the roof, making it collapse and fall to crush her where she lay immovable in her bed. Only her will kept the roof from falling, and the creature’s will bore down on her from outside. For a minute, perhaps longer, the struggle continued. There was silence through the house, with only the creaking of the tiles to signal the conflict that was taking place. Then the creature was gone, the night was still, and Melody slipped deeper into a sleep that held no dreams.

  She didn’t mention the event to her father the next morning, but when they left the house to drive to work she looked up fearfully, wondering whether there would be scratch marks on the tiles. But there was nothing, and no sign anywhere either of the creature from the night, or the one that had perched so menacingly on the cathedral the day before. She kept a sharp eye open as they drove out of Lichfield and into the forest, but there was nothing remarkable to see. It was a clear day, with a few scattered cumulus clouds on an otherwise serene blue sky.

  As the trees closed round them and they made their way deeper and deeper along the forestry tracks, Melody felt a sense of relief and release. Although her father had suggested that a variety of dangerous animals might be on the loose, she felt safe here. This was her territory, and if anything threatened she could deal with it. It was out in the open under the sky and in the city that she felt vulnerable. She felt the gold ring on her finger warm and comforting, and guessed that it was part of what she felt. The kingdom of Faërie was a land of forests and wooded places, and it was in such safety that she had found her unicorn.

  At length they drew up by the side of the track and her father brought the Land Rover to a halt. They got out and walked along a narrow path between aisles of pine trees, emerging in an open ar
ea which had been recently cut. Sitting on a convenient stump was a man, evidently Ieuan, and he rose to meet them.

  Melody’s first words of greeting were cut short in her throat. Her father had said that Ieuan was a short man like a dwarf, but he’d been mistaken. Ieuan was a dwarf, without a doubt. Scarcely four feet high, he had the deep-set eyes, the dark and tangled hair, the barrel chest and strong arms that Melody had often read about, although she’d never seen one. A dwarf! What such a creature might be doing in these woods she could scarcely guess, but she realised at once that he would indeed have ‘sources’ for his knowledge. Sorcery was nearer the mark. Dwarfs were tricksy folk by all accounts, and she eyed him warily as he stepped forward with a ready greeting and a hand extended to shake hers.

  ‘Well met!’ he cried. ‘Geoffrey here told me you’d be coming, and I see you’re all he led me to anticipate, and more. You didn’t tell her all about me, I see.’ This last remark was directed to Melody’s father, who stood quietly by with a soft smile on his face.

  ‘No, I did not. I thought that she’d know soon enough, and there was no point either in raising her hopes or alarming her. But I knew she’d recognise you immediately, even if it took me nearly a year!’

  ‘You won’t get much past this one,’ commented Ieuan, looking thoughtfully at Melody. ‘She’s a twicer if ever I saw one. And she’s been in Faërie, that’s obvious a mile off. And more still.’ He sniffed the air reflectively, and looked doubtful. ‘Feys, of course. I can smell the fey breath on her. But there’s something else, something I don’t recognise.’ He sniffed again. ‘What is it, girl, who’ve you been talking to on the other side?’

  ‘I followed a unicorn,’ she said simply.

  Ieuan’s eyes widened. ‘A unicorn! That explains everything! No wonder I didn’t recognise the smell. I’ve never seen one, and wouldn’t want to get close enough to smell it if I did. They’re not for the likes of me, unicorns. Not normally for mortals either, I’m thinking. You’re more special than I hoped.’

  Melody was still cautious. Everything the dwarf said seemed straightforward, but you had to be careful. And there was one word he’d used that she didn’t recognise.

  ‘Ieuan, what’s a “twicer”?’

  Ieuan broke off and stared at her, then laughed. ‘A “twicer”? Why, somebody who’s been this way twice, of course. Somebody who’s been here before, or lived before, somebody who knows things without being told. It’s only an expression, of course. We don’t really believe in resurrection, if that’s what you’re afraid of.’ And he smiled, a big mirthless grin, as if testing her.

  He was testing her, she realised. Dwarfs were tricksters, pranksters, the most unreliable of companions and acquaintances. If she let him lead her into a discussion on a subject of his choosing, like resurrection, he’d delight in tying her in conversational knots and leaving her floundering. The entire point with dwarfs was to keep to the subject.

  ‘Ieuan, it’s kind of you to talk to me. Tell me, what’s following me?’

  Ieuan froze into immobility. Melody smiled to herself. So it was true that the dwarf did know something, and equally true that he didn’t want to tell her. That was fine. She’d had lots of experience of people trying not to tell her things, from her mother’s disappearance onwards. Her expression was like a shark’s as she repeated the question.

  ‘Ieuan, what’s following me? You have to tell me.’

  Still he hesitated. Melody sensed that he would tell her if she insisted, but didn’t want to – and in this instance for her sake rather than his own. She weighed that up, and decided that her need was the greater.

  ‘Tell me.’

  Ieuan sighed. ‘It’s a dragon.’

  Melody stared at him, speechless, and sensed her father’s equal disbelief where he stood beside her. A dragon? There was no such thing. They truly were mythical, the stuff of legends and fairy stories. No rational creature could believe in them. The suggestion that she was being pursued by one was absurd. Yet she remembered the heat, the cold, and wondered whether she was destined to hear yet more bizarre marvels.

  ‘A dragon? There’s no such thing,’ she said automatically, yet even as she said it, she realised that she wasn’t as certain as she sounded. Ieuan certainly seemed entirely serious.

  ‘A dragon. That’s what I said. Why it’s pursuing you, none of us knows.’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘Us. The dwarfs; the humans who are attuned to such things; the dryads, the feys. All the creatures of the world. None of us understand dragons, so we don’t know what their business is with you. We only know that you’re the target, the focus of their attention. You’ll have to find out what they want for yourself.’

  Melody almost laughed. ‘Me? They want to talk to me? What do I know?’

  Ieuan’s expression remained serious. ‘Maybe they want to talk to you. I didn’t say that. Maybe they want to eat you. There’s plenty of evidence of the kind of appetites dragons have, and no suggestion how it can be resisted. We’ll do what we can, but I think you’re on your own here.’

  Melody was silent, trying to make sense of what had been said. She’d have loved to dismiss it all as nonsense, to ridicule the dwarf as just a little man with no understanding and no knowledge, but she was too wise to do so. Too much of Ieuan’s speech made sense. The dark shadow in London, the creature on Lichfield Cathedral and in her dreams, they were all the same. A dragon, a single dragon, chasing her. To what purpose? If it wished merely to destroy her it could have done so a number of times. So what else? There were a number of reasons the dragon might have business with her, so she’d better get used to the idea swiftly.

  At her side, her father was incredulous. ‘Ieuan, what are you talking about? What do you mean, a dragon? They’re from fairy stories and songs, “Puff the Magic Dragon”, that sort of thing. We use them to frighten children. Don’t be ridiculous.’

  Ieuan remained impassive. ‘Geoffrey, we’ve been friends for three years. Do you remember when I arrived? Do you remember why I arrived? No, you couldn’t. I came here because Melody had disappeared. Something was happening, and we needed to know what. I’ve been trying to find out ever since, trying to piece together the clues in this forest, where she’s most at home. I was just beginning to get some idea, just beginning to see a pattern to it all, when you told me she’d come back. I couldn’t make any sense of that, but now I’ve seen her I can. She’s wanted, she’s necessary, both in this world and the other. A dragon’s hunting her, and that’s not chance. When she meets it, then we’ll understand.’

  ‘Meet a dragon?’ cried Melody. ‘Don’t be absurd. How can I meet a dragon? It’ll kill me.’

  ‘Don’t be so sure,’ said her father, trying to lighten the moment. ‘I reckon it’ll be the dragon that will be afraid. It’ll have met its match. I’ve often thought that Melody’s a bit of a dragon herself.’

  Ieuan shook his head emphatically. ‘No. Melody’s not dragon. Melody’s unicorn.’

  Ieuan

  Melody stared at the dwarf, who stood calmly with folded arms, as if waiting for the storm to break.

  ‘What does that mean?’ she demanded. ‘What do you mean: “Melody’s unicorn”?’

  ‘I mean what I say, like all dwarfs,’ said Ieuan. He waved away Melody’s protest. ‘Oh, yes, I know that dwarfs are meant to be deceitful, but that’s not the truth. It’s just what people want to think when they hear things they don’t like. The dwarfs’ problem is honesty, not trickery. Most people can’t tell the difference.’

  ‘You haven’t answered my question,’ Melody complained.

  ‘I’m going to,’ Ieuan said. ‘Give me a chance. The truth is, there are two kinds of immortal creatures who move in this world. Dragons are one, and unicorns are the other. Neither belongs here, naturally; they walk here when they choose. But their natures are opposed. Dragons are creatures of fire and air, they live under the sun. Unicorns are creatures of water and earth, they shine like the moon, they love the
shadows and the shaded places beneath the trees. Unicorns are caring and giving, guardians of the forest and of those who live there. Dragons are selfish, they serve no one but themselves, and if they are guardians, we do not know what it is they protect. They’re rare, secretive, evasive. Nobody knows what a dragon wants or what it chooses. That’s not what you are. You’ve met a unicorn, and you know what that means. You too have become a guardian, a giver. It’s your destiny to meet the dragon and contend with it. Isn’t that correct?’

  Melody was silent, even speechless. Ieuan had answered her question, all right. He’d more than answered it. He’d said more in half a minute than almost all the people she’d ever met had said in all her life. There was so much to take in; she felt she’d spend the rest of her life coming to terms with what he’d said. Giving. Was that really her? She’d never thought of herself as a giver. She felt more in tune with Ieuan’s description of a dragon – she’d tried not to let anyone see what she wanted or what she chose. And yet. And yet. Thinking about it, she realised that she’d tried to give things to Tamar, tried to give him friendship and understanding. She’d thought of herself as a protector, being the strong person who could defend the vulnerable and blast anything that threatened. All her destructive energy was really dedicated to guarding what was weaker than her, although she didn’t always have the skill to recognise what that was.

  Slowly, Melody became aware of the stillness. Ieuan and her father were standing there, watching her. The both understood the conflict that was taking place inside her, the sorting out of ideas and of priorities. Weakly, she smiled as she became aware of their gaze.

  ‘I think,’ she said slowly, ‘that I’m going to need some time to decide what’s “correct”. I think that Ieuan has a lot of talking to do yet, and a lot to explain. He may protest his honesty, but he hasn’t exactly been honest with you over the last three years, has he, father?’