The Secret Of The Unicorn Queen -The Dark Gods (2 page)

     Suddenly Sheila was overwhelmed by such a strong wave of homesickness—she missed her family, her whole world, so much—that she just wanted to throw back her head and bawl like a baby. But warriors didn't cry, and— I'm not a warrior! I'm an ordinary teenager; and I just want to go home! 

     But . . . what if she did recover the missing Tracker from Mardock? If she went home, that would mean leaving Morning Star. 

     Sheila stroked the unicorn's warm, smooth neck again. Morning Star cocked an ear back, then stopped long enough to give Sheila's hand a quick, affectionate swipe with her tongue. 

     "Oh, Morning Star!" Sheila murmured. "How could I ever give you up?" 

     If she went home, she would be leaving everything and everyone—the other unicorns, the warriors, and of course, the magic. Here, she was really somebody. Well, maybe she wasn't as important as Illyria, but she was still somebody. Back home she would be just another kid. Could she ever really fit in to that humdrum life again? 

     Lost in those unhappy thoughts, Sheila didn't see the little green lizard that suddenly darted right under Morning Star's nose. The startled unicorn shied left—and Sheila kept going straight ahead! 

     "Ow!" She landed with a thud in the middle of the road, right on her aching rump, a cloud of dust billowing up about her. 

     A contemptuous laugh rang out. Brushing off the dust, Sheila turned to see Dian, her bright eyes flashing with mockery, looking down at her from her own unicorn, Swiftfoot, a handsome brown mare. 

     "Poor Sheila! What a fine clown you make! Come, my friend," she cried to Swiftfoot, "let's show this poor little girl what real riding looks like!" 

     Dian prodded the mare with her legs, and the unicorn obligingly followed her commands, leaping and rearing and whirling about like a dancer. 

     Sheila was torn between admiration and resentment. Dian might not be the nicest person around, but she sure could ride. 

     "Hey, watch it! Don't step on me!" Sheila yelped. 

     Dian merely laughed. With one last, graceful leap, she and Swiftfoot rejoined the rest of the procession, leaving Sheila in yet another cloud of dust. Coughing and red-faced with embarrassment, Sheila got to her feet, sure that everybody was laughing at her. Morning Star pushed her muzzle into the girl's hand, as if to apologize for dumping her. 

     "That's okay, Morning Star. It's my fault. I should have been watching where we were going instead of day-dreaming." 

     But as Sheila climbed wearily back into the saddle she decided firmly, That does it. I've had it with Dian. I've had it with everybody! As soon as I get that Tracker back, I am definitely going home! 

    One summer, when Sheila was very young, her father took the family with him to the American Southwest. She hadn't thought about that trip in years. But now the dry land through which the procession rode brought memory back with a rush. The weather was just as hot. And it was just as dusty. All around her the flat plain and gently rolling hills beyond were covered with dry yellow grass, low, thorny shrubs, and several different types of cactus. 

     "Who would live here?" she asked Pelu, who was riding beside her. "And why?" 

     The delicate healer's fair skin and ash-blond hair were protected from the sun by the hood of her cloak. All Sheila could see of her face was the glint of her teeth as she smiled. "Lord Toron Medlian, a noble most loyal to our good Laric, lives here. And as to why, well, this place isn't always a wasteland. Sometimes it can be as beautiful as the hills near Campora."

     "Are you joking?" 

     Pelu laughed. "No, Sheila. Believe it or not, once the yearly rains come, this barren land becomes a garden, abloom with everything from the most exotic flowers to the sensi-herb I use in my healing potions. Lord Toron makes a tidy living out of selling those plants." The healer straightened in the saddle, shading her eyes against the glare. "I believe we are going to be spending the night on Lord Toron's estate. Ah, yes. Here comes his escort now. 

     They were a colorful lot, some twenty men, all of them clad in bright, multicolored robes glittering with gems ("Just colored glass," whispered the amused Pelu to Sheila) and riding elegant little horses that snorted with surprise at the sight of the unicorns. The troop's leader, a slender, olive-skinned young man with slanted dark eyes, bowed low in the saddle before Laric. 

     "I am Terric lar-Toron, Your Majesty, eldest son of Lord Toron Medlian," the young man announced formally, though his eyes were alive with curiosity. "My father has sent me forth in his name. And in Lord Toron's name, I bid you welcome to his lands and his hospitality." 

     Laric nodded graciously. "Tell your lord it is a hospitality my party and I will be glad to accept. And yes, Terric lar-Toron," he added with a sudden grin, "it's true. These really are unicorns, and this lady really is Illyria, the Unicorn Queen." 

     Terric's eyes widened in wonder. I bet he thinks he's seeing a fairy tale come to life, thought Sheila. 

     But did something else besides wonder glimmer in those dark eyes? Was there also the dawning of hope? Or was it fear?

     The estate of Toron Medlian consisted of several long, low, whitewashed buildings with slanting red-tile roofs, surrounded by a high whitewashed wall. The whole thing was almost blinding in the clear, hot sunlight, and Sheila was glad when the gatekeeper let them into a quiet courtyard shaded by what she guessed were grape arbors. Everybody dismounted, leaving the unicorns grazing happily on the lush green grass, and followed Laric toward the large, many-columned building that was clearly Toron Medlian's mansion. 

     A plump, olive-skinned man wearing a rich silk robe of red and gold met them at the door. Sheila glanced from the plump man to Terric. Seeing how much, despite the man’s fat, they resembled each other, right down to the same slanted dark eyes, she knew this must be Toron Medlian himself. And so he was. 

     "Welcome to my humble abode, Prince Laric. Oh, welcome, indeed." When he smiled at them in greeting, the resemblance was even stronger. For there, Sheila noticed, was that same mysterious hint of hope reflected in Lord Toron's eyes as had shone in his son's. Or was it just a trick of the light? 

     Yes, surely that's all it is, Sheila reassured herself, turning her attention to the unicorns. Refusing to be stabled like mere, ordinary horses, they had been left to enjoy themselves in the shade outside. Sheila grinned at the sight of an awestruck groom feeding Morning Star choice oats; the unicorn was daintily lipping up just the choicest grains from the man's hand. 

     "Please," said a little serving girl, "the others have gone inside. Will you follow me?" 

"Oh, of course. 

     Sheila followed the girl into a large atrium, made cool by fruit trees and splashing fountains. She settled herself beside Pelu and Darian on a pile of soft cushions, sipping at a drink that tasted very much like sparkling orange juice. 

     Laric and Toron had their heads together in a corner and were talking softly and earnestly. Intriguing bits of their conversation floated back to her. 

     "What is it that troubles you?" Laric was asking. 

     "Oh, nothing, nothing," Toron insisted, smiling. "But Samarna's border's so near . . ." He dropped his voice even lower, and all Sheila could hear was: "Kumuru." 

     "Kumuru!" she whispered to Darian. "Isn't that the name of the king Dynasian was going to send the captured unicorns to? For—for sacrifice?" 

     Darian nodded. "Kumuru is the King of Samarna." 

     "Are we close to Samarna? I mean, I know it lies south of Campora, but-" 

     "The Samarnan border is only about a good day's riding south from here," Darian replied. 

     "Oh. No wonder Lord Toron is nervous!" 

     "Can you blame him? After all, Kumuru's the one who worships the Dark Gods!" 

     "Whatever they are," muttered Pelu. She snorted. "Nothing I ever want to meet, that's for certain!" 

     "But . . . you are a mage, Your Majesty?" Toron was asking. 

     Laric hesitated, then nodded. "I . . . have some powers, yes." He was speaking somewhat louder now, and Sheila could hear him clearly. "But I will not declare war on Samarna, or any other land, without good and just cause. Has Kumuru actually harmed you or any of your folk?" 

     "Well ... no." 

     "Has he or any of his troops ever crossed the border into your lands?" 

     “No.” 

     Laric sighed. "Then, my friend, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you. Kumuru may make for an unpleasant neighbor. But unless he actually does anything to break our laws…” 

     Toron sighed, too. "I understand. He tends to make me nervous, that's all. Well, enough solemn words!" The plump lord straightened, clapping his hands together. "Come, on with the musicians! Tonight we host our prince! Let the feasting begin!"

     Sheila sat on Morning Star easily, laughing as the unicorn galloped and danced beneath her. Overhead was a clear blue sky, bright as any gem. Ahead lay the fiat, grassy Steppes of Arren, and there was nothing in all the world to stop them in their joy. 

     Except… 

     Suddenly the clear sky was darkening, boiling up with black, eerie clouds. Lightning flashed-lightning red as flame! 

     Sheila looked frantically about for shelter. Any second now, the storm would break, and somehow Sheila knew that what was about to fall from those clouds wasn't going to be anything as innocent as rain. 

She had to find shelter! 

     But all at once the earth rumbled and shook beneath them! Morning Star reared with a scream of terror as the ground tore open in a gaping hole. A swarm of strange, dark Things came pouring forth. Their talons and fangs were long and gleaming as knives, and their eyes— Oh, their eyes were fire! 

     "Run!" cried Sheila in horror. "Morning Star, run!" 

     But the unicorn was floundering, struggling to free her hoofs from the earth that was melting, soft as mud. The Things were gaining! Sheila could see the flames of their eyes burning brighter and brighter. Long, deadly fangs gleamed as they laughed and laughed, reaching out to tear her from Morning Star's back and- "No-o-o!" screamed Sheila. And she woke up. 

     "What-? Where-?" 

     Oh, of course. This was Lord Toron's estate, and she was in the little chamber she had been assigned after all the feasting and festivities were done. 

     Feasting, yes. That's what must have caused this bad dream—too much rich food. And too much talk about Kumuru's Dark Gods! Well, she wasn't going to let them bother her anymore. Determinedly, Sheila lay back again and shut her eyes. .

     The dark Things were all around her, ringing her in, laughing cruelly as she twisted and turned, trying to find a way out of the circle. Slowly they started toward her, talons outstretched.