Song of the Wanderer

by Bruce Coville

  “Is the Queen angry?” asked Jacques, his voice trembling.

  “Anger is not the word,” said Ivy. She stretched out her hand to him. “This is not a good way for either of us to meet again, old friend. We will talk later, and if you have half as much to tell me as I have to tell you, it will be a long conversation indeed. For now, be at ease. The Queen sends her forgiveness, and bids you remember that had you not come through to Earth, you would not have been here to call Cara and me back from the Rainbow Prison, something it is unlikely Thomas would have done. I owe you my life, dear fool, and not for the first time. But we must move now, and move fast, before the transit point shifts.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Cara.

  Her grandmother smiled. “Set up a relay system. Right now, and for a little while longer, the amulet will take you back to Ebillan’s cave. I want you to return there and, one by one, bring back your friends — at least, those who wish to go to Autumngrove with us.”

  “Autumngrove?” asked Cara, feeling confused. “What about Summerhaven?”

  “Summer is ending,” said her grandmother, “the court is already on the move. Now come along; let’s check on the others.”

  * * *

  Ian Hunter was lying where Cara had left him. But he was awake now, and when his daughter, Jacques, and the Wanderer came down the stairs and entered the living room, he cried out in astonishment. He sprang to his feet, then staggered and sank to the floor. Despite Lightfoot’s healing work, he was still weak from the wound Beloved had inflicted on him.

  His cry roused Lightfoot, who pushed himself to his feet more slowly. “Welcome, Wanderer,” he said, bowing his horn to Ivy Morris. “We have traveled a long way to find you.”

  “Indeed you have,” said Ivy Morris. “I understand you have been a good friend to my granddaughter. For that, you have my thanks, and the thanks of the Queen as well.”

  Ian Hunter stood again, this time more slowly, and took a step toward them. His face was unreadable.

  Ivy Morris reached out to him. “We have much to speak of,” she whispered. “And much that needs to be forgiven on both sides. But Cara has told me what happened in this room last night, and if you are willing to set aside the past, then I am as well.”

  Cara stared at her family, or what there was of it here, confused by the tangle of joy and sorrow that bound her to the grandmother who was so much more than she seemed; to the father whom she had lost and found and lost and found yet again; and to the man who might be her grandfather.

  But the time for talking, for understanding, for healing, would have to come later. Now she had to travel again.

  Taking the amulet from her grandmother, Cara asked Luster to bring them home.

  * * *

  She returned to the crystal cave from which she had left. Moving quickly, but cautiously, she followed the dark tunnel that led to the larger cave that Ebillan called home.

  She found them, her “family of the road,” waiting at the front of the cave. The Squijum was the first to notice her. “Girl back!” he cried, bounding to her side and scrambling up to her shoulder. “Girl back!”

  Ebillan turned his massive head in her direction. “So, the little Wanderer returns, having slipped away while I was distracted.”

  “I apologize for my ungracious departure,” she said, speaking in the courtly language of the dragons.

  “No matter. Your friend was as good as his word, and for the mending of my wedding cup, I am willing to forgive perhaps more than I should. I notice, however, that you are alone. What of the friends who followed you to Earth?”

  “Safe, and waiting for us to join them,” said Cara.

  Then, speaking quickly and telling only a fraction of what had happened since she’d left the cave, she explained the plan for returning to the Queen’s court.

  “Perhaps I should install a tollgate,” said Ebillan testily.

  “What’s to complain about?” snapped Moonheart. “You’ll be rid of us all sooner than you expected. I should think you would be relieved.”

  Ebillan grumbled his annoyance, but said no more.

  “Earth?” growled the Dimblethum uneasily. “Then to court? The Dimblethum does not like this idea.”

  “It’s either that or walk back the long way, you dradblatted fool,” said Medafil, stretching his wings behind him. “As for me, I plan to fly, and not to any court. It’s time I headed for home.”

  Cara hurried to the gryphon’s side. “I shall miss you,” she said, stroking the feathers on his neck.

  “Gaah! I’ll miss you, too. But I notice you didn’t bring the Wanderer back with you. Never will get that gutbumbled kiss, I suppose.”

  “Here’s one from me until you see her,” said Cara, stretching up to kiss his yellow beak.

  “Gaah!” he said. But from lower in his body came a deep rumble. It took Cara a second to realize he was purring.

  “We don’t have time for long good-byes,” said Moonheart. “The day will be over soon. If we’re going to make this crossing, we need to start now.”

  Cara glanced toward the front of the cave. The sun was appallingly close to the horizon. She turned to Ebillan. “With your permission, we will depart,” she said, speaking once more in the guttural, fiery language of dragons.

  “Permission granted — on the condition that once this is done you do not ever return to my cave. Our dealings with each other are at an end.”

  “Terms accepted,” said Cara.

  She gave Medafil a final hug, then led her friends to the crystal cave where, one by one, she ferried them through to Earth.

  The Dimblethum hung back with the clear intent of being the last to go. But when she came for him, he shook his head sadly and said, “The Dimblethum will miss Cara. The Dimblethum will miss Lightfoot. But the Dimblethum will not go to court.”

  Cara felt her heart clench with sorrow. “Where will you go instead?”

  “The Dimblethum goes to his own home, back to where you first met him.”

  “But how will you get across the wasteland?” she cried. “I can’t stand to think of you traveling that all alone.”

  “I’m going to fly the fitbingled creature,” said Medafil crossly. “Don’t know why. Stupid idea. But I offered, and there it is. Probably break my back. I’ll guide him through the forest, too.”

  Cara laughed, despite the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. Then she flung herself against the Dimblethum and held him as tightly as she could.

  “Go,” he growled at last, pushing her away from him. “Go now, while you can.”

  She looked up. The sun was almost gone.

  She raced to the crystal cave, and let the amulet carry her back to Earth.

  26

  Horn

  With five humans, four unicorns, and the Squijum, the living room of the little house Cara had shared with her grandmother was more crowded than she had ever seen it.

  What made it feel even more crowded was the tension that crackled from the unicorns’ barely-contained anger at finding themselves sharing the space with a Hunter.

  The sharing was not going to last long because soon they would be leaving for Luster.

  Ian Hunter took his daughter aside to talk with her. They sat in the kitchen, looking at each other across the shabby little table where she used to sit to eat her breakfast. Neither spoke for several minutes.

  It was her father who finally broke the silence. “You are a miracle,” he said.

  “I’m a wanderer,” whispered Cara.

  “And the most precious thing in the world to me,” he answered, reaching out to take her hand. She slipped her hands forward. He folded them into his own, which were callused and hard with muscle. “We have to make a decision now,” he said at last.

  Though he did not speak it aloud, they both knew what that decision was.

  Cara sat staring at him, at the lean, dark-eyed face, nearly haggard now, the face that ha
d hunted her and haunted her and that meant so much to her heart. Stared at it, and with pain choking her throat finally whispered, “I have to go back to Luster.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded in acceptance. “You do understand that I cannot go with you.”

  “Why not?” I bet the Queen would forgive you. I bet it would be — ”

  He shook his head. “I have to find your mother.”

  Warm relief flooded her heart. “How will you do it?”

  He looked away for a moment. “I am a Hunter,” he said at last. Then he turned back. “I must stay for another reason, Cara. The danger to Luster is growing now that Beloved has an amulet. I will do what I can to discover her plans, to help warn the unicorns of when and where the attack will come, as come it must. It won’t be easy; I’m marked as a traitor now to the Hunters, and it is unlikely any unicorn will trust me either. But I may be able to help somehow.”

  “Every time I find you, I lose you again,” said Cara, trying not to let her sorrow overwhelm her.

  “I could say the same thing,” he replied gently. “But it’s different this time, Cara. Long ago you were taken from me, and I still carry a wound from that loss that no unicorn can heal. When we met in Firethroat’s cave, I lost you in a different way.” He smiled. “Your friend the dragon dropped me about as far from civilization as was possible. On my journey back I had a great deal of time to think — and what I thought about most was how amazing you are. And how the things that had been drilled into me by Beloved and the Hunters, the things I believed utterly, no longer seemed quite so certain.”

  He shook his head. “And now we part again, but not in the same way. Because this time each of us knows the other’s heart — knows that as soon as it can be managed, we’ll be together again.”

  She slipped from her chair, went to him, and put her arms around his neck. When she pulled away again, her cheeks were wet with his tears.

  * * *

  Autumngrove was even more beautiful than Summerhaven, but the beauty was little balm for the sorrow that enfolded the unicorns.

  The Queen was fading, and would not last much longer.

  A glory was gathering, unicorns streaming into Autumngrove from all directions to bid farewell to their queen — and not only unicorns. Those humans who had gotten the word were traveling to pay their respects, too — as were many of the other creatures of Luster.

  The gathering had started two weeks earlier, when the court was still in Summerhaven and concern about the Queen had reached the point that the unicorns put out a call for the farewells to begin. There had been a great deal of discussion about whether the Queen should make the trip to Autumngrove. She was the one who had insisted on going, and had succeeded in forcing the others to accept her decision.

  Behind the sorrow was enormous concern, for the matter of who would take the Queen’s place was still uncertain. Though the rules of succession had left Lightfoot in line for the throne, it was well known that he did not want the position.

  And strange rumors had begun to circulate that there was someone else — someone unexpected — who might take the Queen’s place. Other rumors were spreading, too — rumors of a growing danger from Beloved, and the possibility of a fierce, final battle that would decide the ancient struggle between the unicorns and the Hunters once and for all.

  * * *

  This was the state of things two days after Cara returned to Luster, and it was causing Lightfoot terrible anxiety.

  “I thought she would live forever,” he said miserably to Cara as they walked in the woods of Autumngrove one afternoon. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this!”

  “I don’t want you to have to,” she said sympathetically.

  “You’re nicer about it than my uncle. When I said this to him, he told me to stop whining. Then he went on about how when the Queen was well my shirking of responsibility was merely annoying, but now that she is going to leave us, it becomes” — and here he lowered his voice to imitate Moonheart — “ ‘something deeper — something we cannot afford.’ As if this was simply some chore I didn’t want to take on.”

  “Why don’t you want to do it?” asked Cara.

  “Because I’m wrong for it! I’d make a mess of it! I can’t believe they even want me to try. Any fool can see I’d be horrible at it.”

  “So why do they want you to? I could never quite figure out how it works here.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing as simple as it is on Earth where the King’s firstborn son follows him onto the throne and everyone else can just go off and play.”

  “Actually, it does sometime gets more complicated than that,” said Cara gently.

  “Well, at least there are some sort of predetermined rules. Here we have a ceremony where a group of unicorns read signs from the water, the sky, and the forest. You wouldn’t believe how surprised everyone was when they announced that I was next in line for the throne. They were as upset about it as I was. The only difference was, they kept saying ‘You have to accept your destiny,’ and I kept saying ‘There’s been some sort of horrible mistake!’ ”

  He paused, then added more calmly, “To tell you the truth, I think there are times when Moonheart believes we should just ignore the signs; after all, they were less clear than they should have been. We both know that he would make a better king than I would. But when I tell him that, he gets more upset than ever. And to make things worse, now we’re facing the possibility of an invasion by the Hunters. And who knows what the delvers might be getting up to. The last thing we need at the moment is me as King!”

  He shook his head and sighed. “Given how hard I worked to get away from the court, the fact that I ended up back here at this time is almost enough to make me believe that the Greater Powers really do want me to be the King — which, in my opinion, would mean that Moonheart is wrong. I’m not the silliest and most irresponsible thing in the kingdom. They are!”

  * * *

  M’Gama arrived in Autumngrove two days after Cara and her group had returned, announcing that she had come to observe the passing of the Queen. Cara sought her out and told her all that had happened since they had last been together.

  “I’m glad the ring was of use,” said M’Gama.

  * * *

  Cara and her grandmother shared a grove much like the one Cara had been given at Summerhaven — a private place surrounded by a thick wall of shrubbery that was turning silvery with the onset of autumn. But despite sharing this sleeping space, Cara did not see much of her grandmother, for Ivy Morris spent most of her time with the Queen.

  When they did have time together, the two of them talked long and deeply. Cara told her grandmother the whole of her adventures since coming to Luster. The Wanderer expressed delight at learning of her meeting with Medafil, and spoke of how she wished she could see the gryphon again herself.

  “Why did you leave without kissing him?” asked Cara.

  Her grandmother laughed. “It was a game, at first. I teased him with it for years. Then things went sour, and I left with many things unfinished.” She picked up a silvery leaf and turned it over and over in her hands. “Now the time has come to finish some of them,” she murmured.

  What they did not talk about was the startling story that the Queen had told them while they were in the Rainbow Prison. It seemed to be fearful territory somehow, and Ivy was either unwilling or unable to discuss it.

  * * *

  One night they were called to the Queen’s grove, a beautiful spot beside a silvery stream. Many unicorns were gathered there already. Their horns were dim, their heads hung low.

  The Queen lay at the edge of the swiftly flowing water, so weary she could not lift her head.

  Cara felt hot grief overwhelm her, and struggled to keep from disturbing the sacred moment with a wail of despair.

  She saw a handful of humans scattered about the grove; Jacques and Thomas were there, as was — to her surprise — Armando. She saw other
s as well, humans she did not recognize, including a cloaked woman who gave an impression of great age.

  The unicorns began to sing, a song that seemed to be made as much of light as of sound.

  One by one the unicorns approached their Queen, knelt, nuzzled her neck, or laid their horns across her shoulder. Cara knew they were speaking to her in private, mind to mind, a last exchange of words and wishes, blessings and sorrows.

  Occasionally the Queen would raise her head or nicker softly. Mostly she lay without moving.

  One of the unicorns — her face so mournful it took Cara a moment to recognize her as Laughing Stream — came to her and said, “It is your turn now.”

  Swallowing hard, Cara went to the Queen. Kneeling, she placed her hand gently on the frail, white curve of her neck.

  “Greetings, Great-granddaughter,” thought the Queen. “I must apologize for leaving so soon after you have come to stay with us. I owe you great thanks, for you have given me my heart’s desire — you returned my wandering daughter.”

  “My heart has a desire, too,” thought Cara, “and that is for you to stay with us.”

  “Don’t be cruel,” replied the Queen gently. “My time has come, and I must move on. I welcome it, for I am more weary than you can imagine. I have given instructions that you are to be allowed to drink from the Queen’s pool. Think carefully before you accept this boon. It will add many years to your life, which can be a blessing, or a burden, depending on how you spend them.”

  “What about . . . about Flickerfoot?”

  “Keep watching,” replied the Queen, and Cara actually sensed a note of amusement in the thought. “With luck, all will be resolved. Now you must leave me, for there are others I need to speak to, and my time is short. I wish I had had more time to know you.”

  “And I you, Great-grandmother,” whispered Cara with her mind and her lips.

  When she lifted her hand from the Queen’s neck her fingers tingled, as if she had been holding light and it had soaked into them.