Authors: Wil Ogden
The Nightstone (14 page)
“Of course,
Your
Highness.” Pantros was already regretting his early morning job, but he didn’t know how to undo it. Clearly, he wouldn’t have time get to the palace and back and even if he could, there would be more people in the great hall at this time of day. He pondered handing the ruby to Estephan, but knew that it was not the time for it, if there ever was a time for it, which he doubted.
“I’m going with them,” David said.
“I won’t order you to,” the prince said. “But, you don’t have another cycle at the Abandoned Arch for three seasons, so you are free to go where you will. Your leg is better?”
“I know one of the Tempests by the south docks, they aided the healing a little,” David said. “I could dance, well, if I could dance.”
“I’ve seen him try,” Meredith said. “A one-legged minotaur would have more grace.”
“It’s time I returned to the palace,” the prince said. “Your carriage should be ready for you to be on your way as well.”
Lady Glacia stood on her private balcony overlooking her holding in Demia. The cool breeze off her ice caves kept her palace comfortable. The only ice in Demia and it was hers. To her, it was what made her territories so special. Others, with ambitions, wanted it because it bordered directly on the lands of the King of Demia.
By concentrating a little, Glacia could focus her eyes on the distant lands, several leagues away. She set so many plans in motion every day, usually for her own amusement. The Murdread plans were finally coming to their ultimate fruition. Far away, at the gates to the King’s Palace, a very small army bearing Murdread’s sigil was pushing through a weak defense. The gates had already fallen and in the courtyard, pockets of defenders were struggling in vain.
A small demon glided down onto her balcony. Refocusing to her immediate surroundings, she held out her hand and summoned her icicle staff. It materialized in her hand with its point already barely penetrating the new arrival’s throat.
“You are not as wise as I believed, Kirvel,” she said, glancing at him then focusing her sight back on the battle in the distance. She left her staff in the demon’s throat, letting it draw a small trickle of blood.
“As you predicted Osris is not reacting to the incursion on his land,” Kirvel said in a strained voice, as if he were being careful not to move his throat. His fear of her would keep him from backing away from the staff. Fear had its uses.
“Those are my guards down there in Osris’s tabards.” Glacia said. “Is their performance believable?”
“I wouldn’t have guessed. Murdread has no reason to suspect the battle is anything other than it appears,” Kirvel replied. Glacia pulled her staff away, but kept it with her. “Why are your guards defending the King’s lands?”
“Because the King seems to have lost interest,” Glacia said. “His days are numbered, but I am retaining control over exactly what that number is. His entire staff, from his guards to the imps that handle his waste, is under my influence. I am awaiting a suitable replacement. So far, the candidates here are not pleasing to me.”
“But, you let Murdread into the King’s Palace,” Kirvel said. “Surely you are not going to let him take control.”
“No,” Glacia said. “But that’s where your knowledge of my plans ends. Thank you for your service. You will be rewarded when this has played to fruition. Be gone!” She pointed her staff back towards Kirvel, sure to hold the bloodied tip before his eyes. She didn’t even watch as he flew away, keeping her sight on the King’s courtyard. That courtyard was as far as her guards would let Murdread penetrate the palace. The gate was in that courtyard, which is what Murdread was after. Still, he hadn’t yet acquired the Key. She considered how involved she wanted to be to see that he did get the Key.
Once Murdread opened the gate to Mealth, he would no longer be a nuisance to her, but the timing had to be just right.
Two Unicorns stood outside the Gypsy’s camp. Both had white coats and golden horns. The larger one’s mane and tail-tip were blue while the smaller
one’s
were pink. Charles stood beside them, along with Jonah.
“The colors are dyed,” Jonah said. “It helps them tell each other apart. Otherwise all Unicorns are as white as new snow and have the same golden horn, though their eyes vary from azure to blue.” The smile on Jonah’s face told Charles that last part was some kind of joke.
Until a moment before, Charles had thought Silon and Chelle to be human, just like the rest of the Gypsies. They’d invited him to join them outside the camp. When he’d arrived they’d introduced themselves then promptly shifted forms. It hadn’t been a shift so much as an instantaneous replacement. There wasn’t even a flash, just a slight whoosh sound as the air was forced to change shape around the Unicorns. The Unicorns themselves were not what Charles had expected either. Their long legs could almost make them look like horses from a hundred paces away on a foggy day after half a dozen drinks, but up close they looked nothing like horses as the legends described them. Their heads were wider than a horse, though they narrowed more at the nose and mouth than a horse. Their manes were more like a lion’s mane than a horse's and their tails were distinctly leonine. Their legs were thicker than a horse's and ended in tufted cloven hooves. The tufts were dyed on the smaller Unicorn but not the larger. It was also very clear that the larger of the two was male.
“They can’t speak?” Charles asked.
“They can make noise,” Jonah said. The Unicorns bleated then growled. Silon, the larger one, then roared. “They communicate mostly by body language. You hang around them long enough and you’ll be able to understand them as if they could talk.”
“Are they the only Unicorns among the Gypsies?” Charles asked.
“We have about a dozen,” Jonah said. “Unicorns are hunted for their horns, which are both highly magical and pure solid gold. They don’t take their natural forms often unless they know they are secluded and safe. Silon and his daughter are willing to risk it here, to help you change to your true form.”
“I’m supposed to turn into a Unicorn, here?
Today?”
Charles asked. “The ring is supposed to help with that, right?
“So the Queen says,” Jonah said. “Let’s see, how should we start?”
Silon grunted and moved his head back and forth.
“That’s as good a plan as any, I guess,” Jonah said. “Charles, why don’t you just imagine yourself as a Unicorn?”
“I’ve been doing that since they changed,” Charles said. He had. He’d been wondering what it would be like if it were true. How would it feel to be so big and to not have hands and not be able to speak?
“Concentrate on the image,” Jonah said.
He did, nothing happened.
Chelle bleated and pointed her horn at Charles’s ring.
“Now do it while touching the ring,” Jonah said.
“I don’t have to chant, ‘I am Kehet’ and spin around three times?” Charles asked, and then chuckled at his own joke. No one else laughed but Jonah smiled weakly. Maybe the Unicorns were smiling. Charles couldn’t tell.
“Just touch the ring and imagine yourself changing into a Unicorn.” Jonah stepped back, giving Charles room.
Charles hadn’t actually imagined the change before, just the being a Unicorn. When he touched the ring with his other hand and imagined the change, he changed.
“Ack!” he tried to scream. It came out as a roar.
“I guess that confirms it,” Jonah said.
“Confirms what?” Charles tried to ask, but only bleats came out. His body must have betrayed his question, though because Jonah’s next words answered him.
“You look just like Kehet and we never told you what he looked like,” Jonah said.
Charles bent his neck around, though he couldn’t focus on this mane, he could tell it was a royal purple, as was the tip of his tail. He also couldn’t see his horn. His eyes gave him a very binocular vision, barely overlapping.
“Your horn is here,” Jonah said, touching his finger to the tip, just above the center of Charles’s vision. Charles could feel the finger touch his horn. He wouldn’t have expected being able to feel through metal. Jonah then explained, “Also your horn is silver, and Kehet is the only Unicorn with a silver horn.”
“So I am Kehet,” Charles bleated, sounding nothing like the words he was trying to say.
“Remember you can’t talk,” Jonah said. “Your body will speak for you if you let it. By trying to talk, you’re actually impeding your ability to communicate.”
Silon grunted and tossed his head to the side, pointing his horn to the woods. Chelle snorted and nodded slightly.
“Time to run,” Jonah said. “Follow them.”
Before Charles could ask anything, Silon took off with Chelle just behind him. Charles ran after. His body knew how to move and it felt natural to run. He kept his focus on the Unicorns ahead of him, not wanting to lose them in the woods. Then he noticed how fast he was travelling. The woods blurred through his vision, barely recognizable as individual trees.
They ran for an hour, until Silon brought them to a stop. Charles knew the spot. It was where Heather had found him. In the distance he could see the edge of the crater that used to be Blackstone
“How did you know?” Charles asked, forgetting he couldn’t speak. The words came out as bleats and slight growl.
Silon went over to a large flat stone by the river. Charles had often used that stone to lie in the sun. Using his horn, Silon dug under and flipped it over. There were symbols carved in the other side. Charles had never seen them before but he could read them.
“This marks the spot where Prince Kehet of the Unicorns both exited and entered this world.”
Silon changed back into his human form. Charles had expected him to be naked but he had all the clothing he’d been wearing prior to taking Unicorn form. Charles followed, also changing to his human form. Chelle did the same.
Silon ran his fingers along the symbols on the stone. “I carved this stone a little less than a thousand years ago. I was part of the Vulak hunting party where you were last seen. Our camp was setup here, though the river was a little shallower than.”
“You knew I’d be back?” Charles asked.
“No, you told me you entered the world at that stone,” Silon said. “That’s what we had come here to do, to see where you’d come from. And to hunt Begli, they were rampant in this area back then, pressing south from the mountains. This was still part of the Abvi kingdom of Grenlith back then. Relarch was a much smaller nation a thousand years ago.
“I wasn’t born yet,” Chelle said. “I’m only three hundred years old. Relarch hasn’t changed in my lifetime.”
“How old do Unicorns get,” Charles asked. Before anyone could speak, he knew the answer; it somehow appeared in his mind. “Thousands of years,” Charles said. “There’s really no upper limit.”
“That’s it,” Silon said. “There are only a couple thousand of us, maybe ten. No one really knows. We’re terribly secretive; more so while you were gone.”
“So, what do I do?” Charles said. “If I am Kehet, what can I do? What do I need to do?”
“I don’t know everything, you’re not one to brag of your abilities,” Silon said. “Like all Unicorns you can heal with the touch of your horn, only a virgin may ride you, and you can sense when someone else is a Unicorn. And what did you mean by ‘if’? What is there to leave any question in your mind?”
“I have a ring to change me and Kehet is a god,” Charles said.
“I know nothing of the ring, but you are a god. You are Kehet,” Silon said. “I ran with you off and on for three thousand years. I never saw you do anything omnipotent. I’ve seen other gods create things from nothing and such, but not you. I know you’re a god; the other gods talk to you like you are one of them. I just think you’re a little different.”
“Probably because he’s a Unicorn,” Chelle said. When they looked at her she explained, “Unicorns are magical creatures, but we cannot possess magical ability. There are no Unicorn mages or Tempests or Sorcerers. It probably has something to do with that.”
“As good a theory as any.”
Silon shrugged. “So, Your Majesty, can you really question who you are?”
Charles thought about it. The thoughts seemed ridiculous. But it felt true. The evidence was hard to argue with. I am Kehet, he thought. He’d always thought it as a question before that, this time it was a statement.
Kehet took his Unicorn form and led Silon and Chelle back to the camp of the Wandering Rose.
They’d passed through three villages along the Abvian Highway without stopping.
When they’d stopped the carriage at a one inn town called Whisperwillow, Sheillene seemed particularly happy and at the same time particularly sad.
Pantros was the first out of the carriage, hopping to the ground, thankful to have the chance to stretch his legs. He helped his sister and Sheillene step down.
“This is your home, isn’t it?” Tara said to the huntress as they walked from the carriage to the inn.
“I am Sheillene of Whisperwillow,” Sheillene said. “But it’s been many decades since I lived here.”
“Do I get to meet your family?” Tara asked.
“Not today,” Sheillene said. “My mother lives with my sister in a cottage far to the north. We’re not really part of the town, but this is the closest town to our home. That’s probably why I’m not as happy as I could be for visiting home, I won’t actually have time to visit my home. Still, it will be nice to see a few friends in town and play for familiar faces, even if we are only staying long enough for a meal.”
“We’re staying the night,” David said, catching up to them. “The drivers say there aren’t enough horses here to trade for.”
“The inn is nice enough,” Sheillene said. “No running water, but clean. Faren, the proprietor is fair and offers food for both human and Abvi tastes. Don’t drink the local wine he offers though, it’s usually the vintages that weren’t good enough to transport and sell. Speaking of Faren…” Sheillene gestured to an Abvian man coming out the inn’s doors.
“Sheillene?”
The man asked. “What are you doing in a Relarchian Prince’s Carriage? Did you finally find a wealthy patron to keep you?”
