by Unknown
Pelu started after her, but Illyria stopped the healer, "Let her go. Kara will be all right, but she needs time by herself. And I need to know what all of you found out about Nemor."
It seemed everything he had told them was true. He had been one of Dynasian's ablest and most trusted captains when he suddenly resigned. No one knew what explanation he gave the tyrant, but it must have been a good one, for few men left Dynasian's service alive. Nemor disappeared from sight for a while, then1 approximately a year later, he showed up in one of the villages outside Ansar and began to build the rebel group the Sareen. Since then he had mounted a series of daring raids on Dynasian's troops. To Sheila, he sounded like some kind of Robin Hood, stealing from the tyrant’s caravans and soldiers and giving to the poor. The people considered him a hero—and their only real hope for overthrowing Dynasian.
"Well," said Illyria when all of the riders had spoken. "It seems Nemor is beloved by the people. I, too, heard the same things wherever I asked. By all accounts, he's the perfect ally. Why, then, did Quiet Storm nearly rip him open?"
stared into the fire, as if looking for her answer there. When she had disguised herself that morning, she had let Nanine paint lines and age spots on her face. She had assumed the hunched-over walk of an old woman, and she had taken her hair down. Now she had straightened and scrubbed off the makeup, but her hair still hung loose in waist-length silver waves. In the flickering firelight1 Sheila saw a strange expression cross the Unicorn Queen's face. It was as if, just for a moment, Illyria wished she were doing anything in the world besides plotting battles and strategies. Sheila wondered if she was thinking of Laric.
''I think,'' Illyria said at last, ''that we must work with Nemor."
"What?" Pelu was outraged. "How can you ignore the unicorns' warning?''
"I'm not ignoring anything. But if there is a way into that fortress, Nemor will know it, and I mean to get it from him. Whatever it is he's up to, I want him to play out his hand."
"Even though this game may involve considerable danger," Nanine said, as if completing the thought.
Illyria stood, a sign that the council was over. "I meant what I told Nemor. I will not order any of you into this. Each of you must choose whether or not you will risk this partnership."
"Do you really think any of us would refuse?" Myno asked with an impatient grunt.
The Unicorn Queen smiled at her band. "I mean to get more information from Nemor himself before I commit any of us to battle. But if Nemor sends for my answer, I will tell him that we will join forces," She turned to Myno with one last instruction: "Make sure you double the watch tonight."
* * *
By the time dinner was over Sheila was nearly asleep on her feet, The sword lessons with Dian and Darian had worn her out completely. She crawled into her bedroll and was asleep as soon as her head touched the ground. So it was with a sense of bewilderment that she found herself wide awake in the middle of the night.
She sat up, trying to figure out what had awakened her. The sky was still black, and beside her, Kara's bedroll was empty. The archer was on watch. The camp was quiet. There were only the sounds of the stream and the soft whickering of the unicorns.
Without quite knowing why, Sheila pulled her blanket around her shoulders cloak-style and got up. She waited a few minutes until her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and then cautiously began to move through the camp—cautiously because she didn't want anyone on watch mistaking her for an enemy.
She walked toward the back of the canyon, away from the sleeping warriors. It wasn't a good night for walking. A steady, dry wind blew clouds across the waxing moon, so that she was able to see where she was going for about a minute, only to be plunged into darkness the next.
The clouds slid across the moon again and she stopped where she was, waiting for the light to return. And when it did, there in the moonlight was the ghostly figure of a tall, thin man with wild white hair.
"Dr. Reit!" Sheila cried. The scientist had been looking for her, after all. And now he'd found her. Did that mean he had also found a way to take her back to her own world?
"Shhhh!" he said, obviously delighted to see her. "You don't want to wake your friends, do you?"
"I'm so glad you're here!" Sheila lowered her voice just a fraction. If she could have hugged his shimmering form, she would have.
"Yes, well, I've been looking for you," he explained. You are all right, aren't you?"
"Yes, but-" Suddenly Sheila was hit with a wave of homesickness so sharp it nearly undid her. At that moment she would have given anything to see her family. "Have-have you come to take me home?"
"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," the scientist answered in his usual distracted manner. "Actually, it's pure luck that I found you. You might say I bounced right across your path."
Sheila couldn't exactly make sense of this, but that wasn’t unusual with Dr. Reit. So she asked the same question she had asked him dozens of times: "What are you talking about?"
The scientist thrust his hands into the pockets of his lab coat with a sigh. "The problem with traveling between worlds, my dear, is crossing the molecular time warp. You just happened to fall into my time machine and wind up in this time. But for me to travel into this world and no other, I need a very specific form of acceleration-"
Sheila tried to picture the high-tech rocket Dr. Reit had probably constructed just for this purpose.
"I used a springboard," the scientist explained.
“You mean, like the kind you use in gymnastics?" Sheila asked in disbelief.
"Well, more or less. And it did get me here and will most probably get me back. However, I don't think it will do anything for your problem." Dr. Reit saw Sheila's crestfallen expression, and his form wavered with what might have been doubt, The moonlight shone straight through him. "Now, there's no reason to get downhearted," he said quickly. "You see, I'm working on a reverse mechanism that I think will get you back."
"You think?" Sheila echoed.
"Well, you know these things are never certain until they've been tested and retested. If I was doing this properly, I'd try it on mice first, then rats and guinea pigs, maybe rabbits…”
Sheila summoned all her patience. "Dr. Reit, have you found a way to get me home or not?"
"Well, that's what I've been trying to tell you, dear girl. I think I've found a way to reverse the molecular acceleration, but it requires a great deal more acceleration than I've been using up to now, and-"
''And I'm still stuck here," Sheila finished.
"Well, yes," the scientist admitted softly. ''But only for a while. I promise you."
Sheila sank down against a tree. "What about my parents?" she asked in a small voice.
"They're fine, I'm sure."
Sheila wasn't sure this was good news. Of course, she didn't want anything bad to happen to her parents, but somehow she didn't like the idea of them being "fine" when she was missing.
"Oh, didn't I explain?" Distress filled his voice, and Dr. Reit's pale image wavered again and nearly vanished. "You're in a parallel universe, but the passage of time is not at all parallel. Time here has nothing to do with time back home. Though you've been here over a month now, at home it's still the same afternoon that you left. No one knows you're missing except me.
"Wonderful," Sheila said flatly. "I may get killed in some crazy battle, and no one will even know I'm gone."
"You're still trying to fight the tyrant, then?"
Sheila nodded and filled him in on all that had gone on.
"Fascinating," said Dr. Reit when she had finished. "Simply fascinating."
Sheila was about to tell him it wasn't nearly as fascinating as it was dangerous when the ghostly form before her flickered for a moment and then vanished as quickly as it had come.
Sheila let her head sink down on her knees. It had been nearly a month since Dr. Reit's last visit. Who knew when—or if—she would ever see him again. And
even if she did, what was the use? He'd probably just vanish again.
"So that's the sorcerer," said a quiet voice.
Sheila jerked her head up with a start. Darian was standing beside her. He must have heard most of their conversation.
"I wish you'd stop sneaking up on me," she snapped, angry that he had spied on her. "You could have made a little noise, you know."
"I'm sorry," said the boy, sitting down next to her.
"But I was on watch. I heard voices.... You want to go home, don't you?"
Sheila didn't answer. She was afraid that if she started talking about home, she would start crying.
"Are you so unhappy here?" he asked gently.
"I miss my family and my friends. Even my bedroom, sometimes.”
Darian's hand reached out for hers. "I don't think I'd like it if I found myself in another world. I can't even imagine yours.”
“You might like it," Sheila said, trying to picture him behind the wheel of a car. Darian's hand felt so good around hers—warm and strong and comforting. "And it's not that I hate this world," she went on, suddenly wanting him to understand. "It's funny. I used to daydream about living a life filled with heroic adventures, 1 guess that's why I always read a lot of science fiction and fantasy.''
Darian looked at her blankly, and she realized he had no idea of what she was talking about. To him this world wasn’t something out of a heroic daydream. It was simply his life.
"What I mean is," she tried again, "in a lot of ways, coming here—and meeting all of you—has been the best thing that ever happened to me. But-"
She never had a chance to finish, for at that moment there was a shrill, angry whinny. In the moonlight Sheila saw Quiet Storm rear up, his powerful forelegs lashing out in a furious attack.
Darian was up and running before Sheila even realized that a man was trying to approach the unicorn, a man carrying a halter.
Without thinking, Sheila took off after Darian. "Wake up!" she cried as she raced through the camp. "Someone's after Quiet Storm!"
Near the mouth of the canyon Darian took off in a flying leap, tackling the stranger. Both of them came down hard. There was a long scuffle and Sheila couldn't tell one from the other. Then, with a grunt, Darian pulled himself up on top of the stranger, his fist raised. Above them Quiet Storm's hoofs cut through the air. With a shout the stranger twisted violently, rolling Darian beneath him. Just as Sheila reached them the stranger’s arm arced up, a knife gleaming in his hand.
"No!" Sheila didn't have time to draw her own knife. She just threw herself forward, grabbing the stranger's wrist and jerking it back.
There was a blur of motion beside her and then Illyria was there, her knife at the man's throat. "Drop your weapon," she commanded, "and then get up, very slowly."
With a muttered curse, the stranger did as he was told.
"Let him go, Sheila," lllyria said.
Sheila stared at her own hand in surprise. Even though the stranger had dropped the knife, her fingers were still stiff around his wrist. With a shudder, she released him.
Myno stepped forward, grabbed the stranger's hands, and bound them tightly behind his back with a leather thong.
“Darian?" Illyria turned to her brother with concern.
Darian was on his feet, breathing hard, his head turned away from them. Sheila could see that he was cradling his right arm.
"Darian, let me see." Pelu tried to touch his arm, but he jerked away angrily, and Sheila saw the pain in his eyes. "Let me see," Pelu repeated gently.
''Do as she tells you," Illyria said, her words both a plea and a command.
With a sigh of defeat, Darian let Pelu take his arm.
She began to straighten it and then stopped. "It's broken."
Darian shrugged, as if to say, "I knew that."'
"Can you set it?" Illyria asked.
Pelu's smile was grim. "I'll have to knock him out first.''
"I can take the pain," Darian said gruffly.
"Not this much, you can't," Pelu told him. "Come. I'm going to brew a potion for you, and then you're going to sleep very deeply."
"Go with her." Illyria brushed a shock of dark hair from her brother's face. It was the tenderest gesture Sheila had ever seen between them, "I want you well soon."
Darian gave his sister a sly look. "All right, but first" –he turned to the stranger all but forgotten in the concern over his arm—"I want to hear what this snake has to say.”
Illyria scowled for a moment at her brother, but when it was clear that he wouldn't give in, she turned to the stranger. Her voice was deadly calm as she asked, "Who are you?”
The man didn't reply but stared sullenly at the ground.
Behind him Kara grasped his long hair and jerked his head back. "You were asked a question," she hissed. "Now, answer before I put my knife in your throat."
Nanine's haughty voice cut through the night. "Does it matter who he is when we know who sent him?" She carried a makeshift torch that she now held close to the stranger's face, "Look at the necklace he wears."
A gold chain circled the man's neck and a pendant hung from it. Made of hammered gold, it looked like some sort of sun but with sharp geometric angles.
''Of course," Illyria said, with a sharp intake of breath. "He wears the same symbol Nemor wore on his tunic. He's Nemor's man. I, too, should have seen that."
"There's something else about that symbol," Nanine said, an unusual note of worry in her voice. "I could swear I've seen it before, only I can't remember where,"
Illyria reached for the pendant and dropped it as soon as she touched it, almost as if she had been burned.
"Moon above," Nanine swore softly, "I know what that is, only"-she turned to the stranger, her voice acidic-"you've changed it, haven't you?"
The man remained silent, ignoring her.
Illyria's eyes widened in recognition, but she didn't respond to Nanine. Instead she turned to the stranger. "I suppose you are the one Nemor sent for my answer.
The man nodded his head.
"Why, then," Illyria continued, "did you bring a halter?''
Obstinately the intruder continued to stare at the ground. But for the first time he spoke. "Nemor sent me to find out if you will join him to take the fortress. If you agree, you must meet him at midday tomorrow in the village of Odelia." He fell silent again.
"I think that's as much as we'll get from him," Myno decreed impatiently. "Send him back to his master."
"What?" an outraged Darian protested. "He came into our camp armed, tried to take Quiet Storm-"
"Not now!" Illyria cut him off fiercely. She sent a questioning gaze to Nanine, who nodded her assent. "Very well, then," the Unicorn Queen agreed. "Return to Nemor and give him two messages from me. The first is that I will meet him in Odelia, The second is that if he ever crosses me again, he will not live to see the next dawn."
Myno grabbed the collar of the man's cloak and roughly began to pull him out of the canyon.
"My knife," the man protested. "You don't expect me to travel these roads unarmed?"
"That's a risk you'll have to take,'' Myno replied.
With Myno's spear against his ribs, the stranger left the camp.
“Let me see the knife," Nanine said as soon as he was, out of sight.
Kara handed her the small bronze blade. "There it is again," Nanine said. Her finger traced the strange circular pattern engraved into the widest part of the blade. "He didn't need the knife; he just didn't want us to see this."
Sheila and Darian exchanged puzzled looks, and Dian spoke for them both, "It's more than Nemor's symbol, isn't it?''
"It's called a krino," Nanine answered. "The one that he and Nemor wear is slightly different from the original symbol, but it's essentially the same thing."
"As what?" Darian asked, clearly reaching the limits of his patience. "What's it a symbol of?"
"Evil," Illyria answered. "The krino is a very old, very powerful sign of dark magic. When we we
re in Campora, Mardock wore a ring that was similar. It's a protection, a calling on the Dark Gods. It explains why our visitor got past the watch and why Quiet Storm didn't do him any harm. The man is a mage."
Darian turned on his sister, his eyes blazing. "And knowing that, you released him?"
"Oh, Darian." Illyria's voice held none of the anger Sheila expected. "If he is even half as powerful as Nanine suspects, do you really think I could have kept him?" she chided. "However, it is entirely within my power to see that you have your arm attended to. Now, go with Pelu, and no more arguments!"
8
A Change of Plan
Odelia was one of the small hill towns on the outskirts of Ansar. It was far enough from the city for the riders to travel by unicorn, and Illyria had announced that with the exception of Darian, who was still nursing his broken arm, all of the riders would accompany her to Nemor's camp.
Her sword fastened to her waist and her backpack snugly on her back, Sheila readied Morning Star for the ride. She ran a brush along the unicorn's silky white coat. All of the unicorns were beautiful, but to Sheila Morning Star was the most beautiful of all. The mare nudged her with her head, as if impatient to leave. It had been two days since they had ridden together, and both of them had missed the other's companionship.
"Be patient a little longer," Sheila told the unicorn as she finished brushing out the thick, dark mane. "We'll be riding in just a few moments. I promise you."
"I'm afraid there's been a change of plan," Illyria said, walking up to them. She was holding a handful of greens which she offered to Morning Star. With a delicate shake of her head, the mare declined the offer.
Sheila looked at the Unicorn Queen. Illyria was dressed to ride, as were Nanine and Myno, who stood behind her. Things didn't look as if they had changed.
"I need to ask a favor of you, Sheila," Illyria began. "Will you let me ride Morning Star today?"
"You mean you ride Morning Star and I ride Quiet Storm?" Sheila asked. Riding Quiet Storm was probably a lot like riding Wildwing, except Quiet Storm was even bigger and probably more dangerous.