by Toni Kerr
But maybe it was the wiser thing to do, so as not to spook the horse into running for its life.
Another glimmer of relief settled in his chest as the animal did not strike him as food. A cage of fences quickly circled the clearing and the clatter of hooves on stone echoed throughout the sculpted forest. The unicorn circled four times, slipping on the smooth surface every third or fourth stride.
Alpheus stepped closer toward the horse’s path with his arms out. “Easy now….”
I will not be manipulated by a human, said a voice in Tristan’s head. Where am I? We had a deal! And now you free me in the middle of a human camp of magic-thieves?
It’s not like that, Tristan thought, on a broader mental spectrum so the Makai would know he had contact. There has been a change of plans for releasing you, yes, but we won’t keep you captive. We just need to explain things before we find you a home.
The unicorn trotted to a stop and faced Tristan, stomping a hoof angrily.
Tristan straightened his long neck, looking down on the wild horse instead of trying not to intimidate it. These people can be trusted, but no others.
They. Stole. Magic. Have you forgotten? I am hungry!
He’s hungry, Tristan translated. Donovan nodded at Victor and two others to take care of it and they vanished.
Well at least they listen to you, said the unicorn.
You are not speaking in the same mental plain, said Tristan. I’m sure this is a bit of a shock, but let me explain. Tristan looked at Donovan for help—he hadn’t exactly planned on being the one to do the talking. These are the descendants of those who ate the magic berries.
You would let them live, after they stole our magic and drove us into hiding?
Tristan pondered the thought carefully, and once again wished Donovan could do the talking. These humans don’t know anything about what their ancestors did, but they are of great service to me. Any magic they were born with is being used constructively to not only resurrect all the magical races, but also to repair the harms caused by their people.
This is not the way things are done and you are…an insult. I demand to speak to the eldest!
Anger stoked a fire in Tristan’s gut. The unicorn took a few steps back and locks of silver mane trembled. Tristan’s frustration and temper vanished almost instantly. I am the Designated Alpha. The fact that you have been released should be proof enough.
How much time has passed? asked the unicorn.
I don’t know exactly, but more than several hundred years. A thousand maybe.
Victor appeared with a table full of food—baskets with varieties of apples, several bowls of green and yellow grasses, bushels of carrots and other root-type things.
Tristan took in the excitement radiating from the fresh food and smiled. Welcome. We have a unicorn born to the world, and we hope you will nourish him.
The unicorn stepped forward, curious. Several hundred years, you say?
The dragons were forced into hiding. Information was lost.
I sense you speak the truth, but there should have been a celestial council to deal with this.
There is. Was. I have been designated to end the contract and release you all. Hopefully no one would ever discover how divided the council had been in regards to his ability to take on the role. You are the first to be released, and the council has been freed of their duties.
Several hundred years. That would mean…I am the eldest! I must find my clan and be crowned as such. The unicorn raced around the fenced area again. What has happened to the ground?
It was part of the safety in keeping you protected.
And what are these orbs of light?
The humans don’t see well in the dark. If you would eat, Tristan added, catching the hint from Donovan. We will do our best to explain what we know.
I must go to my clan at once.
We should talk first, and you might not have a clan to go to.
Though you speak the truth as you see it, you are wrong. The unicorn shook his head of flowing hair and stomped his front feet a few more times. The stone earth shifted back to soil and living foliage. In a swirl of sparkling glimmers, a small hairy dwarf with a pointed head stood where the unicorn had been.
The people sucked in a collective breath, silenced immediately when Donovan raised his hand.
“Mayhap with this tongue, they can hear me.”
“We do,” said Donovan, waving a hand toward to the table. Though by the shrugs and frowns in the group, Donovan was the only one who understood the language. “Please tell us your name and what country you—”
“I will not! I will find my people and tell them our time has come.”
The little man took three steps and stopped with his hands clenched at his hips. “You disgrace me, humans. I demand clothing!”
“As the dragon was saying, information was lost. We are ill prepared to accommodate anything without first learning who you are and what you require.”
“Clothing! I require clothing! Is that so difficult?”
Tristan eyed the creature and was unsure what he would consider clothing. His feet were semi un-furred, with three rather large toes curling against the soft ground. Coarse white fur covered the majority of his body, though his cheeks and cone-shaped forehead were exposed, along with the tips of his pointed ears. He could almost pass for a miniature Santa Claus.
Donovan handed him a red robe and bowed deeply, waiting for the creature to accept it.
“You mock me!” said the creature. “I am not here to amuse and will not stand for this.” He tore a sleeve from the robe and quickly covered his head with it, knotting the end. The rest of the fabric was twisted around his neck like a scarf and barely covered anything below his shoulders.
“My apologies.” Donovan bowed again. “We have never been in the presence of your kind and, therefore, we are unaware of your customs. We do offer you food as a goodwill gesture and we want to use this opportunity to explain how the earth has changed since you last walked upon it, and what we must do now to coexist.”
The little dwarf, a gnome perhaps, made a show of looking Donovan up and down. “You talk in riddles, human. Or whatever you are. I will find my clan and we will discuss your riddles then.”
The gnome wavered within a wall of energy.
Wait, Tristan said.
“You, I respect. Speak.”
Your clan can tell you what has happened in the world, but if you can’t find them right away, do not show yourself to the humans. Ever. Especially as a Unicorn.
“Why not? Sometimes we are in need of certain things.”
The times have changed. The humans have taken over most of the land, and we are prepared to help you find new land if it becomes necessary.
“We are earth-dwellers. What happens upon the surface is none of our concern and never has been, which is why I am certain my kin have survived quite well despite all this contract business. And another thing—I would never leave my homeland under any circumstance.” The gnome itched his beard and furry neck. “Out of curiosity, how many humans are we talking about?”
Tristan shrugged and glanced at Donovan. Billions.
“Well. That’s your problem, not ours.”
I am not finished, Tristan said. The gnome paused once again and Tristan reconsidered telling him how awful the environmental conditions were, that it wasn’t strictly a surface problem. But he would find out soon enough for himself. We plan to release all the races, and they will likely be as anxious about the state of their lands as you are—
“I am only anxious to get home. Your surface issues concern me not.”
There are things we need to do in the future, as a united group of mixed magical beings, and I would ask for you to represent your kind.
“Are you reassembling the Grand Council?”
I know nothing of past councils. I only intend to include all magical beings when it comes to saving the Earth and coexisting with the humans. I don’t know where, or when, a
nd you don’t have to be involved if you don’t agree with what we come up with. But please do your best to at least attend.
“I owe you nothing for fulfilling your end of the bargain.”
I understand. But this isn’t about the contract. We need to come up with a plan to save the Earth, and if all the races are not properly represented, we might unknowingly neglect something important to you.
The gnome rolled his eyes and stomped a foot. “I will consult with my kin.”
When the time comes, I will send a message through the trees. Can you communicate with the trees? Tristan asked.
“Are you implying that I am unable?”
No. I just need to figure out a way to send you a message. Unless you want to tell us where you live, in which case, we could just show up.
“That is unnecessary. I will respond to a message. I am Filavizz.”
Be well, Filavizz. I sincerely hope your clan is in good health, and if you need to contact us for any reason, send me a message the same way. I am Tristan.
“Beware the company you keep, Tristan.”
Tristan nodded, keeping his irritation to himself. The little creature distorted in a rippling wave and sunk into the earth, disappearing without a trace.
The fences disappeared and the trees groaned. They can’t support the weight of the vines, Tristan said, then laid his head on the compacted ground. It’s time to go.
“Shift, Tristan. But think very carefully about the blood ratio, or the gnome will assume we slaughtered you.”
It was true, but he preferred sleeping to shifting. Donovan knelt beside Tristan’s long nose and put a hand on his scales. “I hope he has a clan to go home to, but you did well to let him discover these things for himself.”
Leave me, green man. I’m sure we will meet again.
“Pack up!” Donovan shouted. “We’ll meet at the castle. I’m taking you home in this form.”
Before Tristan could object, he found himself lying in the clearing at the base of the rickety stairs, shuddering at the thought of being ripped to shreds and reassembled in a matter of milliseconds. Would he still have his wings if he took a human form?
“Keep the blood,” echoed a voice. “A hundred percent is a hundred percent, no matter what the body size is.”
The process was too hard to analyze. Tristan shuddered again and felt himself implode. He jumped to his feet and stared at a tall, dark haired man with black slacks and a white dress shirt, carrying a polished wooden staff. The knots in the wood swirled hypnotically. The man stepped forward, extending the pole, and Tristan retreated to keep an equal, safe distance. The man had a soothing voice, but the words had no meaning.
A few more people appeared in the clearing with him, startling him back a few more paces. The man spoke again and the people hurried up the rickety steps of an old house and disappeared behind a set of double doors.
The man continued talking, inching forward.
A flood of memories and thoughts pounded into Tristan’s mind. He sucked in a breath and Donovan lunged to keep him from falling.
“I’m okay,” Tristan said, flinching at the grip on his bad shoulder. “I got it.”
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“I heard your voice, but whatever you were saying didn’t make sense.” Tristan closed his eyes and hoped the world would stop spinning. “I need to sit down.”
“You must remember two things when you shift back into a human form: Clothe yourself and hide your wings. Let’s hope your brain engages faster next time.”
Black spots pounded in his vision and his stomach rolled. But somehow he was already clothed in something similar to what Alvi had him wearing. As for the wings, he had no idea how to conceal them. He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and rubbed his temples with the other. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
“I’m not sure. Where’s Pink? The falcon?”
“Pink is with Landon, and I believe it’s best to assume the falcon has moved on with the others.”
“We can’t stop the gnomes from going to war if they wanted to, can we?”
“If Filavizz has kin to find, I would imagine they’ll continue lying low. If he can’t find anyone, I’m sure the humans will be blamed. We’ll just have to wait and see how patient he is.”
“He didn’t seem like the forgiving sort.”
“We cannot undo what’s been done, and the world needs to wake up sooner than later.”
Tristan swallowed the lump in his throat and made his way to the steps.
“No matter what happens, your only responsibility is to free these creatures—not to command or govern them.”
34
BETTER LEFT UNSAID
TRISTAN WATCHED THE FULL moon rise over hills surrounding Dorian’s lake. He’d retrieved the sapphire and emerald from the cave, and now the only thing left to do was wait.
“They shouldn’t be too much longer,” said Talak, standing guard by the trailhead leading into Ardon’s meadow.
“I know.” Tristan glanced at the people on his team setting up lanterns and tables of fruit for the expected pixie.
‘Save our queen’s first born,’ the vision of Pink had said, while she and her people were being slaughtered by the leaf monster form of Whiromanie. How did he know someone in the group would summon a dragon?
Anger stirred in his chest. How could they forgive Whiromanie for orchestrating such an event, then replaying the summons again and again to identify dragons for the slayers?
“They should be back by now.”
Donovan, Landon, Pink, Victor, and Dorian were making a quick trip to the Forest of Darkness on a rumor that several bulbs, previously petrified, were of the species they’d been searching for, the flower Pink required to procreate. With luck, it would be a simple matter of Dorian nursing them back to life with enough health to produce at least one blossom.
“Be patient, Tristan.” Madam Galina offered him a bowl of bite-size fruit, which he refused. Everyone seemed to think he had an endless pit in his stomach, shoving food at him every hour. She put a hand on his shoulder and they watched the moon in silence.
“What if the first born royal doesn’t accept Pink as a real pixie?”
“Pink will stay with us, and the royal highness will be on his or her own, just like any other creature we release. Do we know if it’s a male or female?”
Tristan shook his head. “Do you think we should warn Pink ahead of time?”
“That people can be cruel? We’re not dealing with people here, so let’s not make preconceived judgments.”
“You’re right.” Maybe he shouldn’t assume what Dorian’s reaction would be to seeing him as a dragon. “Thanks.”
As if she’d heard him thinking about her, she strode into the clearing with a wooden crate containing the flower bulbs. Donovan followed, then the rest. She set the crate on one of the wooden benches and scanned the decorated staging area. He thought about concealing himself, then decided against it. I’m over here, by the lake.
“Good luck,” said Madam Galina, graciously giving them a bit of privacy.
Dorian crossed from lamplight to moonlight and stopped with a sudden look of horror. “What happened to your wings?”
Tristan smiled. “Nothing. They’re still there.” He expanded them outward and though they appeared transparent, the moon casted a solid wing-shaped shadow on the grass at his feet. “I’ve been practicing. It’s not as easy as you’d think.”
She grinned and continued walking toward him.
“Do you think the bulbs will survive?” Tristan held his breath as she continued past where he’d expected her to stop. “Wait—”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “You know,” she said, after a tense moment, “a hug in return would make this less awkward.”
He carefully wrapped his good arm around her shoulders. “You shouldn’t have touched me.”
“Oh, get over it. I don�
��t care if you have wings.”
“It’s not that,” Tristan said, though it partly was. As much as he wanted to be happy, he couldn’t be selfish. Or cruel. It would be better for both of them if they kept a professional relationship. Though the thought of Philip holding her hand instead of him still sparked possessive aggression. “I have the emerald and the sapphire with me. You could have been turned to stone, or who knows what with the sapphire.”
“So you do care?”
He rested his cheek against the top of her head and returned the squeeze. His left arm was mostly useless now, tied into a sling at his chest. “Yes, I care. It’s a good thing nothing happened.” He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair.
“I haven’t given up on finding a cure, in case you were wondering,” she said, leaning back enough to look up at him. “Madam Galina said you might lose it altogether.”
“It won’t be the end of the world if I do.” In fact, it would be a relief if the pain could be removed with it, but the poison wasn’t just in his arm, and he knew it. “Thanks for letting the races stay here. Hopefully it won’t be for more than a few days at most.”
“It’s okay if they stay, so long as everyone gets along. I’m shutting down the shop.”
“Seriously?”
“Most everyone has moved away with Gram gone, and Tynan is opening a store in Seattle. I’ll be his supplier.”
“Wow. And you’re okay with that?”
“Sure. He’ll reach more people in a city than I ever could on a hidden island. Besides, I don’t want people coming here anymore. What we’re doing now is more important to me.”
Tristan wrapped his wings around her. “Thank you. I didn’t expect you to give up the shop. What does Oliver think?”
Dorian shrugged. “What do you think the valkyrie will be like?”
“I don’t know.” He smoothed down her soft hair and rested his chin on her head. May as well address his biggest fear. “Please don’t be afraid when I’m a dragon. I’ll know who you are, and I promise I’ll never harm you.”
Her breathing stopped as she stiffened. “Why would you not know who I am?”