The Unicorn Emergency

by Lucy Coats

  Suddenly, the magic medicine box lit up and began to flash red.

  “Shaking overload,” it said in its tinny, metallic voice. “About to initiate emergency travel mode. High risk of battery drain. Do you want to proceed?”

  “Yes,” Demon gasped. “Whatever you think is best.” What did high risk of battery drain even mean, anyway? He had no idea. The box was always talking in silly jargon he couldn’t understand.

  As the box began to shrink, Demon nearly dropped it. Soon it was so small that he could carry it in the palm of his hand.

  “Why have you never done that before?” he panted. “You know my arm nearly falls off with the weight of you every time I have to carry you.” But the box didn’t reply, so he tucked it into his tunic, beside his precious Pan pipes. I hope it’ll unshrink itself when we get wherever we’re going, he thought. The box had proven temperamental in the past, and he didn’t trust it not to let him down again. As he ran on, the worry about how he was going to approach the unicorns raised itself again. What if they wouldn’t let him near them? He knew Artemis had promised his dad to be nice, but goddesses were notorious for being fickle. She could still change her mind.

  Soon, though, Demon had no room for any thoughts in his head. He was concentrating too hard on putting one running foot in front of the other. His breath came in long, panting gasps, and he had to keep rubbing the sweat out of his eyes with his free hand. The medicine sack in his other hand was beginning to rub a blister onto his shoulder.

  “Wait!” he tried to shout, but his throat was too dry. Up ahead, Artemis shouted something out, but he couldn’t hear what she said, and it was at that moment that he ran into something. Something that slammed into his middle like a hot, bouncy wire. With an oof of pain, he was flung backward onto the ground, completely winded. It was almost a relief to be still, but the feeling didn’t last for long. Something dropped onto his stomach from a tree. Something with too many long, hairy legs. Another dropped, and another, onto his head and his legs. He screamed hoarsely as the things began to wrap him in sticky fibers, turning him over and over so fast that he became dizzy.

  “Artemis! Help!” he whispered as he heard the hounds baying somewhere away in the distance. But he knew the goddess couldn’t hear him. Had she been shouting a warning to him? What was it that had taken him? He tried to stop panicking long enough to look at his captors, but it was hard in the faint moonlight. He could see round bodies, and the glitter of huge, many-faceted eyes, and . . . He squinted. Were those wings? He thought of all the creatures he knew, but none of them fitted. Then, quite suddenly, he felt himself being lifted upward. He tried to struggle, but he was held too tightly in his sticky bonds.

  As they soared above the treetops, he turned his head as much as he could. What he saw then made all his limbs freeze solid with fear. He had been taken by what looked like enormous spiders . . . with bat wings! He did love all creatures, but spiders were probably his least favorite. It was just something about the way all those legs scuttled . . .

  Over the rush of the wind, he could now hear high, squeaking voices, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Insect language had never been something he understood easily. What did the spider-bats want with him? Were they going to eat him? He couldn’t get a hand free to get at his pipes, and even if he had, putting the spider-bats to sleep while they were all flying through the air didn’t seem like such a good plan.

  All at once, they were swooping down into the forest again. Thin pine branches flicked against Demon’s face and body, stinging him, but he could do nothing to fend them off.

  As the spider-bats laid him on the ground, he struggled again.

  “Let me go,” he yelled, but the creatures just chittered at him, clicking their legs. Demon shuddered. Why did they have to have so many? He closed his eyes and waited for the biting to start.

  But it didn’t. Instead, something wet and warm swiped across his forehead.

  “Arrgh!” he spluttered, his eyes springing open again.

  He was surrounded by hairy white heads, which licked his face mercilessly with long, pink tongues.

  “Demon! Demon! Demon!” they barked as the spider-bats soared into the air again.

  Now Demon was totally confused—and rather upset.

  “Get off me!” he ordered as several pairs of heavy hound paws dug into his chest.

  Then Artemis was there, raising a sharp silver arrowhead to slice through his bonds as both the hounds and the spider-bats retreated.

  “What just happened?” he demanded when he had scrambled to his feet, too angry to remember his manners. Artemis shrugged, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

  “You were being a slowpoke, stumbling along behind me like a tortoise, so I got my little flying friends to give you a ride. What are you complaining about?”

  Demon opened his mouth, then closed it again as he saw the steely glint in the goddess’s eyes. He knew perfectly well she’d done it on purpose.

  “Now,” said Artemis, picking sticky bits off her arrow. “You can’t go to the unicorns like that. They don’t like boys. I’ll have to transform you into a girl.”

  This time Demon’s mouth dropped open with shock and stayed that way. Artemis laughed.

  “How did you think you were going to enter unicorn lands?” she asked.

  Demon found his voice with difficulty.

  “I-I don’t know, Your Shining Serenity,” he said. “I was a bit worried about it, to be honest. But how . . . ? I mean . . .” He gestured down at himself. “I mean, I AM a boy.”

  Artemis shook her head.

  “Not while you’re in there,” she said, pointing far up ahead to a band of lavender mist across the pathway. Making a doorway with one tiny flick of her hands, she pulled things out of the air faster than Demon’s eyes could see. Soon there was a small pile at her feet. Demon could see a long dress, a flowery garland, and some silver jewelry.

  “Put them on,” she commanded just as a chorus of despairing whinnies of pain drifted out from the mist.

  “Oh no,” Demon said. “Is that . . . ?” Artemis nodded.

  “Yes. The unicorns. We’d better hurry.”

  Since Demon would do pretty much anything in the world to save a sick beast, he put on his new clothes over his tunic without complaint, though they felt very strange to him. While he was dressing himself, somehow Artemis magicked his hair long and helped him bind it up with the flowery garland and some ribbons. Last of all, she handed him a small flask of golden liquid, which smelled strongly of lily-of-the-valley.

  “Rub this all over you. It’ll mask the boy scent. And remember—while you’re with the unicorns, you will be Pandemonia, not Pandemonius.” She turned to the hounds. “You all had better remember it, too!”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Demon saw doggy grins all around him, but he didn’t care. Being a girl wasn’t so hard really, he thought, right up until he tripped over the hem of his long dress and fell flat on his face. Grimacing, he picked himself up, avoiding Artemis’s gaze.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “I don’t want to keep those poor beasts waiting any longer.”

  He walked off toward the lavender mist, not waiting for the goddess, hearing the pathetic whinnies grow louder and louder as he got closer. He picked up the skirts of his dress with one hand and began to run, praying his disguise would hold.

  “Wait!” Artemis cried out. “You can’t go—”

  As his foot touched the lavender mist, there was a noise like a thousand silver bells, all ringing at once. Immediately, he was thrown backward, a huge jet of rainbow light slamming into his chest. Flying through the air, he had just time to take one panicked breath before he thudded into the ground at the goddess’s feet, scattering the hounds, who fled, howling, with their tails between their legs.

  “As I was about to tell you,” the goddess
said, “you can’t enter the mist without me.” She reached down and hauled him to his feet.

  “Come,” she commanded him. “And don’t let go of my hand.”

  CHAPTER 8

  UNICORN EMERGENCY

  This time as he stepped into it, the pale purple fog curled around him like a cat, winding long tendrils about his body, as if it was learning who and what he was. He clung tightly to Artemis’s hand, which was cool and dry, with smooth calluses where she had gripped her bow.

  Suddenly, they burst through the misty barrier and out to the other side, followed closely by the hounds.

  The unicorn lands were bathed in the faint silver light of the crescent moon, but Demon had no time to stare around him.

  In front of himself and the goddess stood a whole line of unicorn stallions, horns lowered, ready to protect the herd. Their ribs stuck out, and they were quite thin. Behind them, the pathetic whinnying of the mares and foals rose and fell like waves on the sea. Demon’s heart squeezed tight with pity.

  “Peace,” Artemis said. “I bring you a healer.”

  The biggest stallion trotted forward on shaking legs. Demon could see dark sweat on his silver-white coat.

  “But the mist, beloved Goddess,” he neighed. “The bells in the mist warned of an intruder!”

  “There is no intruder, Moonshadow,” Artemis assured him. “Only my maiden, Pandemonia, and myself.” She stepped forward and put a hand on his mane. “Let us through. We are here to help you.”

  Moonshadow shook his head.

  “There is no help you can give. The time of the prophecy is at hand. Only the stars can save us now.”

  Demon frowned as the goddess tutted impatiently.

  “What prophecy?” he asked, making his voice a little higher than normal, since he was supposed to be a girl. The stallion’s eyes fell on him. They were the shining blue of a clear summer sky.

  “In the time of our foremothers, young maiden,” he neighed, “there was a mare called Swifthoof. One day, she was seized by the gift of foretelling. This is what she said: In the time of the crescent shall come death out of the darkness below. The herd shall know sweetness before pain, and a long sleep with no waking. There is no help unless from the sky stars.”

  He snorted softly.

  “None of us knew what it meant. But it has been passed down through the generations, and now it is coming true.”

  “Well, whatever you believe, Moonshadow, it will do no harm to have Pandemonia look at all of you,” said Artemis. The stallion bowed his head.

  “Very well, beloved Goddess,” he whinnied.

  As Demon put his medicine sack down, the line of stallions parted, and he walked forward between their ranks. Behind them, everywhere he could see, there were unicorn bodies littering the ground. Pathetically thin silver-white bodies, with one long white horn the same color as the moonlight in the middle of their foreheads, and smaller, even thinner smoke-gray bodies with stubby horns and manes that stuck up from their tiny curved necks like messy mown grass stalks. Amid the smell of flowers, there was a strong scent of wrongness and rot. The whinnies and groans of pain and despair all around him were heartbreaking.

  “Oh no!” Demon whispered. “I think they’re all dying.”

  The goddess stepped in front of Demon, took him by the shoulders, and shook him till his teeth rattled.

  “They cannot be allowed to die,” she whispered fiercely, her voice frantic. “These are the last wild unicorns left on earth, and if you cannot save them, then goodness and innocence will gradually slip away from the world. This earth needs unicorn magic, or it will turn into a place of war and hatred.” She let him go and sank to her knees, weeping, and her tears were like silver rain. Where they fell on the ground, small frail blossoms appeared, their transparent heads drooping as if with grief.

  Demon had never seen a goddess cry before, and he didn’t know what to do. Clumsily, he bent down and patted Artemis’s shoulder.

  “I’ll do my very best,” he whispered. “I don’t want them to die, either.” Then, picking up his medicine sack again, he approached the nearest unicorn mare.

  As he came near, she struggled to her feet, nickering pitifully.

  “Shhh!” he said soothingly as she trotted toward him on faltering hooves. “Shhh! I’m . . . er . . . Pandemonia. I’m here to help.”

  * * *

  At first, as she lowered her horn, Demon thought the unicorn was going to gore him. He tensed, ready to run. But she just rested it on his shoulder and leaned her beautiful head into his chest. At least his girl disguise seemed to be holding.

  “My baby,” she whickered. “Save her!”

  Close by, where she had been lying, Demon saw a small body. It was a unicorn foal, and it was so thin that its tiny gray body looked like it was turning to mist. As soon as he touched it, it began to thrash distressingly.

  “Hush, little one, hush!” he said, though his own throat was now thick with tears. “I’m not going to hurt you.” But the effort seemed to have taken the last strength from the foal, and it went limp under his hand. He could feel the rapid thump thump hammering of its tiny heart in its chest, but that was the only sign of life.

  Not for the first time, Demon wished Chiron was with him. His old centaur teacher was the wisest and most knowledgeable healer there had ever been, and Demon longed for his advice. Being half a horse himself, surely he would have some idea of how to cure unicorns? But Chiron was miles away on Mount Pelion. Demon would have to manage on his own. He began to examine the foal. But apart from the extreme thinness, he could see nothing wrong with it on the outside.

  Suddenly, all around him, unicorns began to scream and thrash, including the stallions who had challenged them. It was a terrible sound, and it made Demon want to throw up from fear and panic. What was wrong with these poor beasts? And how was he ever going to find a cure?

  “Do something!” Artemis shouted, and the horror in her voice made the leaves shiver. “Or I swear you will not live to see another dawn!” The hounds around her began to howl.

  Demon did the only thing he could. He pulled his dad’s magic pipes out of the front of his tunic and blew them.

  The screaming was cut off as if with a sharp sword. Every unicorn lay still as death. Every hound lay silent on the ground. Only he and Artemis were left conscious.

  The goddess looked at her hounds, and her eyes were like silver flames as she turned to glare at Demon. Before she could get out a word, Demon waved the pipes at her.

  “I’m s-sorry, Your Celestial Shininess,” he said quickly. “It was the only way. I’ll wake them up again, I promise.”

  The goddess’s eyes narrowed. “Do what you have to, Stable Master. But do it quickly. I do not think there is much time left.”

  CHAPTER 9

  RED FOR DANGER

  Demon set to work at once. Many of his patients, like the foal, had gone misty and faint. Using all the skills Chiron had taught him, he examined each unicorn from horn to tail as best he could in the dim light. His flowery garland kept slipping into his eyes, annoying him, but he didn’t dare tear it off and stamp on it as he wanted to. It was too risky to take off any part of his girl disguise.

  He could still see nothing outwardly wrong with any of the unicorns, and he began to despair of finding anything. He rubbed at his nose absentmindedly. Then he stopped. Yes, the sweet, rotting smell he had noticed before was growing much stronger. Where was it coming from? Kneeling down beside a mare and foal, he closed his eyes and took a long breath.

  “Phew!” he gasped, and nearly choked. Bending down, he sniffed at the mare’s mouth. Yes, that was where it was coming from!

  And then, in a stray beam of moonlight, he saw a trace of red on her silver-white face. Peering closer, and lifting the mare’s lip to see inside, he noticed more red smears around her teeth. The smell of sweet rot was overpower
ing now.

  “Surely this must be it,” he said, holding his nose.

  Just in case, he checked the next unicorn, and the next.

  There was only one thing they all had in common. Every single unicorn had red smears on their teeth. Scraping some off with a wooden spatula, he examined it in the faint moonlight. It definitely wasn’t blood. So what was it, then?

  “What do unicorns eat?” he muttered to himself. The unicorn in the Stables ate sun hay and ambrosia cake, but what about these wild ones?

  Artemis raised her head from where she was sitting among her unconscious hounds, stroking their long ears.

  “They get all their nourishment from moon and starlight. I don’t know what Chiron has been teaching you. Everyone knows that,” she said tartly.

  “Well, I didn’t,” Demon replied, peering once again at the red smears. “I’m a boy, remember? I don’t exactly have the most experience with unicorns.” Then he suddenly remembered who he was talking to.

  “I-I’m sorry, Your Celestial Shininess,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean . . .”

  “Never mind,” said the goddess, her voice impatient. “Get back to work. And don’t say you’re a you-know-what. They might hear in their sleep.”

  There was only one thing for it. Demon pulled the magic medicine box out of his tunic and tapped it gently.

  “Wake up, box,” he said. “I need you.” Please! he thought. Please work!

  After a long pause, during which Demon tried not to grit his teeth, the box finally flashed blue.

  “Exiting emergency travel mode,” it said, making a loud beeping sound. Demon hurriedly set it on the ground as it began to grow. Soon it was its normal size again.

  “State nature of ailment,” it said.