by L. EE
“You’ve had much time to contemplate, Andy,” came Mom’s voice. “So what say you? What would you give to save me while still breaking the curse?”
Andy glanced around, checking to make sure there were no trolls within earshot. Satisfied he was the only one awake, he repeated the question he’d last posed: “What would you have me give?”
After a minute of silence Mom’s voice spoke. “A unicorn horn. It will give me everlasting life beyond the curse.”
“Wait, I thought unicorn blood gave eternal life, not the horn,” Andy questioned, remembering his earlier conversation with Mermin.
“The horn heals all weaknesses forever. It is our weaknesses that cause us to die,” responded the sphere, not answering his question.
“How would you know that?”
“I have learned more in my lifetime than you can possibly know, Andy. Do not question me.”
He knew he was being disrespectful. How many times had he heard that?
The glowing ball continued revolving as Andy thought through his situation. Mom can stay alive even after I break the curse with a unicorn horn. He let out a deep breath. While the possibility should have given him hope, it frustrated him. So we’re supposed to get a unicorn horn for Mom, another one to save Father and the others, and one more to break the curse? This is never gonna work. There aren’t that many horns!
“I’ll do my best,” he replied, without conviction.
“I know you will,” the sphere responded before dissolving.
Andy’s thoughts wouldn’t leave the problem alone but kept picking at it like a scab. What if he gave one horn to Abaddon to free his father and the other to the sphere to save his mom? Breaking the curse could wait, couldn’t it? Of course, they were sent on this trip to get the next ingredient, but that was before he knew a unicorn horn could save Mom…and when there were still three horns. Hopefully Hannah would be able to get both horns. How ticked would Father and Mermin be if he used one horn for something other than breaking the curse?
I think I’d better not tell Hannah and Alden my plan. Surely we can find another unicorn horn, he reasoned.
“That’s a really bad idea, Andy,” his inneru piped up. “You don’t want to mess with the Master Chef of this potion to break the curse, let alone betray the trust of your family and friends.”
Who asked you? Andy shot back. Mom’s part of my family, too! And I can’t let her die! I won’t! Not if I can help it!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Awe & Wonder
Their situation unchanged, Andy’s mind and his inneru became locked in a heated battle. He found himself getting testy as the trio huffed and puffed up yet another mountain two days later.
“Three hours ago you said the unicorns were near, Hannah,” Andy whined.
“They are. My sense locked onto what I think is them when we first started out this morning,” Hannah insisted.
“Then where are they?” Andy questioned. “We’ve only got four days left before the unicorns leave. Assuming we’re successful, we’ve still got to get back to Father and the others within that same time or—”
“I know!” Hannah cut him off. “You think I haven’t thought about that?”
“It’s not your father’s life on the line,” Andy shot back. Or your mom’s, he added silently.
“No, you’re right, it’s not. But he’s my king, and I plan to do my part to save him and the others.” The look Hannah shot Andy was sharper than any sword.
Alden chose to remain silent.
Andy strode ahead, knowing no good could come of a reply. His anger fueled his steps and he crested the mountain before the others.
He studied the terrain as his temper cooled. Not more than a hundred yards ahead he noticed a small clearing on the downslope. A white shape crossed the space and he knew they’d found what they’d come for.
Andy immediately forgot his anger. Somehow seeing one of these creatures, even from a distance, made everything real and he regretted his earlier comments. Wow, that’s awesome! I never thought I’d see one of these in person, and now we’re so close . Unbelievable.
When Alden and Hannah reached him, he brought a finger to his lips, motioning for them to keep their voices down.
“I saw a unicorn through the trees over there,” Andy whispered, pointing toward the clearing.
Alden and Hannah peered through the foliage and also spotted the creature.
“Incredible,” Hannah murmured reverently.
“Are you ready, Hannah?” Alden asked.
She hesitated only a second before nodding, a determined look steeled upon her face.
“Then lead on, fair maiden,” Andy invited, sweeping his arm wide with an open hand.
They descended single file as slowly and quietly as possible, not wanting to startle the creature. As they approached, Andy could make out a second unicorn through the scrub. Its neck extended high as it nibbled tree leaves, much as he’d seen giraffes do on nature shows. The first unicorn stood unmoving on the far side of the clearing.
The trio stopped twenty yards short.
Hannah turned and whispered, “Something’s really wrong. I sense it.”
“What?”
“I’m going with you,” Alden insisted.
“No, I need to go alone.”
Andy watched Hannah creep forward and stop when she reached the edge of the glade. The stationary unicorn, larger than its partner by a hand, turned to look at her. As it did, Andy had to shield his eyes from the reflection of the sun off its silver mane and tail. Its coat and hooves of pure white shimmered, filling Andy with wonder as peace flooded his inner being. It felt as though he stood in a holy place.
Hannah stepped out of the trees, but as she did her eyes fastened on the ground near the creature and she cried out in anguish.
With the foliage blocking their view, neither Andy nor Alden could see what had alarmed her. Alden bolted from cover to join Hannah. His sudden appearance startled both unicorns and they lowered their horns, readying a charge.
“Stop! Please!” Hannah intervened, trying to compose herself. “He’s my friend. Don’t hurt him. He meant well.”
The pair relented, and the unicorn that had been foraging joined its partner to study the new arrivals. After a silence that felt like an eternity, Hannah choked on her response to an inaudible question: “Yes, there’s one other man-child in the trees. May he join us?”
Alden sent Hannah a questioning look.
“It’s okay, they’re speaking to me telepathically,” Hannah whimpered, wiping a tear.
Seconds later she motioned for Andy to come forward. He met them at the edge of the glade and instantly understood what had caused her outburst. A larger unicorn lay on the ground behind the others, its eyes closed, unmoving. Only the jagged stub of a spiral horn remained on its forehead.
With her friends by her side, Hannah’s attention refocused on the scene of devastation. Grief overwhelmed her, causing her body to quake as tears streamed down her cheeks. “How could they?” she croaked.
She crossed the clearing as though in a daze, the pair of unicorns allowing her to pass. She knelt next to the fallen creature and bent forward, hugging its neck as her tears continued unabated.
If I didn’t know better, it seems like she’s blending with their pain, Andy observed as he saw tears fall to the ground from both the attending creatures. Andy remained still, feeling like an uninvited guest at a funeral. Next to him, Alden bowed his head.
Hannah managed to regain her composure after several minutes and sat up on her knees, wiping her tearstained cheeks with a sleeve. Alden began fidgeting and pulled a pouch from inside his tunic, extracting the blue sapphire he’d received from the dwarfs. As if drawn by an invisible string, he started across the glade before Andy could stop him.
Both unicorns whinnied and tossed their heads about, but Alden continued, holding the stone out in his open hand.
Interesting…it doesn’t seem like they’re goin
g to attack him.
Alden stopped in front of the fallen unicorn, knelt, and placed the stone on its cheek. He stroked its neck several times before he stood and retraced his steps back to Andy.
“Why’d you do that?” Andy whispered after Alden resumed his reverent stance.
Alden looked up at him and replied thoughtfully, “I don’t know. I just felt like I was supposed to.”
Andy smiled and shook his head.
The unicorns returned their gaze to Hannah, and a minute later she said, “Yes, that’s Alden. Andy’s my other friend.”
At this, Andy telepathically heard, “Please approach.”
Startled but thrilled, he advanced, halting four feet away from the pair. At close range, Andy felt dwarfed by their size and awed by their majesty. A pearly, spiraling horn protruded more than a foot from each creature’s forehead and looked to be a formidable weapon if needed.
The unicorn he’d seen foraging gazed down at him with soft purple eyes. “We sense an old magic with you, man-child. What dost thou wield?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your spirit feels much older than your figure presents. What do you carry that creates this intensity?”
Andy wracked his brain. Old magic? After a minute it occurred to him, “Do you mean Methuselah?”
He reached for the gold hilt and presented it for them to inspect. He pointed out the four intricate carvings: clouds blowing with puffed-up cheeks, a giant wave, a flaming ball of fire, and a pile of rocks. He also showed them the two stones set on either side near the top, one pure white, the other pitch black.
One of the unicorns bobbed its head as the other replied, “You are a man-child of the Old One. Your presence has restored dignity to our father in death. We are honored.” At this, both unicorns bent a knee and bowed before Methuselah.
Andy glanced at Alden and Hannah and found them google-eyed, their chins nearly touching the ground.
Andy heard the unicorns summon Hannah and Alden to join him, which they did. It appeared the creatures had begun communicating with all three of them.
“My name is Jada and this is my sister, Naria,” the larger of the two creatures shared. Indicating the fallen creature, he added, “Our father, was known as Benica.
“Alden,” Naria began, “we speak to man-children only on the rarest of occasions, for men love war. They delight in slaughter and violence against their fellows, actions we shun. Many of our kind have also fallen at their hands.”
Alden nodded.
“I sense a question in your thoughts,” Jada intoned, turning purple eyes on him.
“So why are you speaking with me?”
“You demonstrated an uncommon sensitivity to our prompting, Alden. Jada sensed each member of your company bore a blue sapphire, but only you acted to honor our father,” Naria explained.
“Is that why I felt like I should give the stone?”
“Yes,” Jada confirmed.
“What’s the significance of a blue sapphire?” Hannah interjected, curious.
“Sapphires create tranquility and inner peace, speeding the journey of a unicorn to Isandum, the fair meadows of honor and dignity,” explained Naria.
Had it been any other situation, Andy would have thought Naria had misplaced a few marbles. But given the nobility of these creatures and the senseless death of their elder, he immediately dismissed such foolish thoughts.
“So Benica will reach his eternal home quicker because of that blue sapphire?” Alden clarified.
“That is correct,” Naria confirmed.
Alden shared a small smile with Hannah and Andy.
“Excuse me, but may I ask a question?” Andy ventured.
“What troubles you, Andy?” Jada responded.
“I don’t mean to be rude or insensitive, but can you tell us what caused your father’s…demise? Other than his horn being broken, it doesn’t look like he’s injured,” Andy questioned as delicately as he knew how.
Hannah rolled her eyes, clearly not happy with him for asking.
Jada lowered his large head and began, “The horn of a unicorn can be likened to the crown of your sovereign, something you would know much about seeing as you are next in line for the throne of your land.”
He paused, and Andy did a double take. “But how—?” he stuttered.
“Your bearing and your blade reveal your story,” the unicorn continued. “Your monarch’s crown is given only on a sacred occasion after the chosen one pledges a solemn oath to rule rightly. It, therefore, represents power, honor, legitimacy, even glory and righteousness.
“Upon the rare and hallowed event of a unicorn’s birth, the young has no horn; except for its radiant coat and features, it could be mistaken for a common horse. The foal’s parents vow before the other members of their blessing to pursue purity, nobility, grace, dignity, and honor as they raise their young. The newborn sprouts the nub of a horn at this measure of goodwill. As the foal flourishes and learns the ways of its kind—to love dignity and honor—its horn grows. So you see, the horn is the essence of our being. When the thief tore our father’s horn from him, it stole that essence, and he could not live without it.”
“I had no idea,” Andy responded in a hushed voice.
Several silent moments elapsed before Hannah asked, “Would you allow us the honor of burying your father properly?”
“A unicorn is pure and is not of the ground. It must be returned to the elements a different way,” replied Naria. “We would be pleased for you to help us send our father on by means of fire, for it will purify his body from that which defiled it.”
The moment felt holy, and the trio could only nod. They set about gathering sticks and fallen branches. They stopped only when the pile in the center of the glade rose higher than Andy and threatened to collapse on top of them.
“The body must not be moved, for that would defile it further,” Jada instructed. “Build a ring of wood, touching but not spoiling it.”
Hannah, Alden, and Andy worked in silence for an hour, then stood back, tired but satisfied with the result of their labor.
Alden’s stomach let out a loud rumble. The unicorns, Hannah, and Andy all turned and looked at him. “Sorry,” he said, covering his mouth.
“I suggest you take nourishment before we continue,” Naria suggested.
The trio nodded, sat down by the edge of the glade, and ate from dwindling rations.
“That’s better,” Alden reported after several minutes, rubbing his stomach.
“The last element we need is water,” Naria interrupted. “The body must be cleansed before purification. There is a stream not far, in that direction,” she motioned with her head.
What? Andy questioned, but dared not ask.
He exchanged looks with Alden. Hannah ignored their glances, devoted to the solemnity and honor of the task.
With just one canteen between the three of them, Andy lost count of the number of trips they made back and forth between the clearing and the brook. Each time they returned to the glade, one of them would slowly pour the water on the body. Naria told them it should not be haphazardly splashed but steadily and reverently poured.
On the thirty-fifth trip to the brook, Andy’s brain screamed at the absurdity of drenching the beast before burning it. He didn’t understand. The wetter they made the body, the less likely it would burn, right?
Andy grew weary of the ritual, but Jada’s passionate insistence coaxed him on. Father’s motto jogged through his brain: “Responsibility, diligence, and dignity are the keys to success.” This task requires diligence, that’s for sure, he thought. At this rate, success should be oozing from my pores.
On what had to be their eighty-ninth trip, his mind numb from the monotony of the task, Andy tried on a new thought: How would it feel if that was Father and I believed this ritual would release him into a bright eternity? The last twenty trips flew by, and before Andy knew it, Jada was satisfied.
Rather than collapsing on the ground
from exhaustion as they felt like doing, the boys followed Hannah’s stern look, which was much like the look Mom used to make Andy comply. Good grief, are girls born knowing about “the look”? Andy wondered.
“Would you do us the kindness of setting the wood aflame with your sword, Andy?” Jada asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Go ahead,” Naria encouraged.
“But Methuselah has never produced a flame.”
“Legend says differently,” Jada countered.
“Really?”
Alden and Hannah watched the exchange with curious expressions.
“Well, okay,” Andy relented, stepping over to the pile of wood that circled the fallen unicorn. He slipped in the mud that oozed beneath the stack but quickly regained his balance before pulling Methuselah from its holster. The unicorns flinched as the blade extended.
“Sorry,” Andy whispered, not wanting to disturb the solemnity of the occasion.
He moved the tip of the blade over the wood and willed aloud, “Methuselah, please set this wall of wood on fire.” Instantly, a pure white flame shot from the tip, igniting the stacked branches in front of him.
“Whoa!” The murmur escaped Andy’s lips as he frozewith wonder. He sensed every cell in his body tingling as he continued to gaze. He didn’t know how long he stayed that way, for only when Jada nudged him from behind could he break concentration.
“Best move back,” the stallion suggested.
Andy had seen campfires before, but this blaze didn’t compare. Instead of red or orange flames, pure white slivers danced atop the wood, lapping up the wet. He brought an arm up and squinted, trying to dim the brightness as the fire spread around the ring and finally jumped to the elder unicorn in the center. Intense heat drove the living back to the periphery of the clearing. Within moments the wood and everything within the ring disappeared in the inferno.
No sooner had the body been consumed than the flames extinguished themselves and arms of coolness wrapped about the site once more. Andy wiped beads of sweat from his brow and the back of his neck as he gazed about. No scorch marks, no ashes, not even a hint of mud. In fact, the area where the fire had raged looked new and untouched. And a distinctly fresh floral scent filled the glade.