The Darkest Unicorn

by Alice Hemming

  Determination was written on Thandie’s face. “I am not so easy to trick, Sander. I am not going to be deceived by a unicorn’s clever words. I am focused. I am here to free the missing ones and to go home.”

  Sander sighed. Underestimating the unicorn’s power was the worst thing that she could do. “Do not give him anything. He cannot take anything from you without your permission.” Sander had offered that piece of advice forty-three times but nobody had ever heeded it. The unicorn had a way of preying on people’s weaknesses and using their hopes and fears to control them. He hoped Thandie was different.

  She was looking around her now and seemed keen to carry on with their quest. “I’m here to take back, not to give. I won’t give the unicorn a thing.”

  “Please remember that,” said Sander. If she took his advice then perhaps there was a way for them both to succeed. Thandie could free the people and he could still keep his part of the bargain.

  Thandie scrutinized the castle. “I’ve been thinking – is there no back way into this place? Can’t we bypass the unicorn all together and go straight to where the stolen ones are held?”

  “No. You are underestimating his power. We cannot hide from him. He undoubtedly knows that we are here – he probably knew about our journey to him. We have to face him. I have to face him,” said Sander.

  And who knows what will happen? he thought.

  “What the unicorn doesn’t know, is that this time, I am on your side. He will expect me to act in a certain way, say certain things. From the moment we cross the threshold of the castle, I will be acting as though I am loyal to the unicorn. You must remember that it is an act.”

  Thandie nodded. He hoped she trusted him.

  “You must prepare a story to tell the unicorn- something that you want – something that would be worth travelling this distance for and taking this risk. Do you understand?”

  Thandie nodded again.

  They walked up the frosty steps together.

  WAITING

  Thandie

  Sander pulled on the bell pull and the doors swung open. They walked through the great doorway, the vast shining hallway, and up the stairs to a set of black quartz doors. True to his word, Sander’s demeanour changed as they got closer to the throne room. He stopped looking guilty – stopped looking at her at all.

  “The unicorn will want to see me on my own first. You wait here and follow when you are called.” He pushed open the door and went in without glancing back. She tried to peek in as he went but the doors began to swing shut straight away and all she could see was ice-white walls and high windows. From deep within the room she heard a woman’s voice.

  “Welcome, Sander. I have not seen you for some time.”

  This must be the interpreter.

  She heard Sander’s familiar voice next. “No. I have been busy. It is getting harder to find what you want.”

  And then she couldn’t hear any more – they must have moved further away from the doors. Thandie supposed they would be reasonably quick and that she should wait where she was. She didn’t like waiting, especially when she didn’t know how long for. She sat down in a cross-legged position directly in front of the double doors, wondering if she would be able to hear any more through the gap, but she could not.

  Prepare a story, Sander had said. A plausible reason that was important enough for a girl her age to risk everything. Her mother flashed into her mind. Her mother – her reason for everything. Maybe even her reason for being here now. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell the unicorn about her mother. No, it had to be something else. She tried to imagine what someone else her age might wish for. What had the stolen ones wished for? Love? Friendship? Riches? She knew what Linnell wanted. She had seen the pages marked in the book. Beautiful dresses, jewels. When … if … the unicorn asked her, that is what she would tell him.

  Thandie soon tired of waiting where she was, alone in the silent castle. She stood and looked over the balcony to the doors through which they’d entered. She had never been anywhere so quiet. Or so big. Did anyone really need this amount of space? No wonder he felt the need to steal others away from their own lives and families. Perhaps he just wanted the company. He wanted their memories because he had none of his own. But if they- the stolen ones – were here, somewhere, why couldn’t she hear them? She knew how noisy the four of them could be at Madam Tilbury’s. There were ten times that number here; there should have been ten times the noise.

  Perhaps the people were locked away in a dungeon somewhere. Or perhaps worse – perhaps they had not survived the experience.

  She had waited long enough now and was growing desperate to find out. If only the doors would open. She studied them. Black quartz when everything else was white and heavily engraved. She ran her fingers across the patterns and then pushed gently. They didn’t move. What kind of place had doors without handles?

  Thandie disliked how her heart beat and how her hands sweated, despite the stark coldness of the place. Her head told her that there was no reason to be nervous. This unicorn might have convinced others that he was something special – Linnell, the other stolen ones, Sander even – but he would not convince her. She knew what he really was: a thief, a cheat, a kidnapper, maybe worse.

  When it came down to it he was a creature, an animal. She thought of the horses that she saw in Essendor pulling carts and carriages. Dull, plodding animals, not like the wolves she’d just met. She would not be nervous about meeting an Essendor horse, so why should she be nervous about meeting this one, who was just the same but with a few magic powers. Worse than a simple creature, he was a beast, without a heart or soul. Her enemy – whom she was here to defeat.

  She was suddenly filled with resentment at the whole idea of waiting here, outside these doors, as if she were some messenger girl seeking the great one’s favour. If they were going to ignore her for so long, then she would go exploring. Perhaps she would find the stolen ones by herself. She turned away from the doors, but just as she was deciding whether to slide down the left-hand or the right-hand banister, the quartz-studded doors swung open behind her. It was time.

  THE THRONE ROOM

  Thandie

  Sander met her in the doorway, avoiding her gaze and shifting from foot to foot. Thandie recognized this now as his guilty expression.

  “Is there anything more I need to know?” whispered Thandie, but Sander did not reply and simply led her into the throne room. Sander could be acting this way for the benefit of the unicorn, but if it was an act, it was a good one.

  An eerie, icy room lay before her, lit by candlelight. It was ostentatious, with ornate ice sculptures and glittering pools. Thandie tried not to look at any of it; she didn’t want to appear impressed.

  And the unicorn walked towards them.

  Thandie had to steel herself not to gasp. This was a creature very different to those carthorses of Essendor. He may have been a beast, but he was a beast of great beauty, and, despite herself, her skin tingled with excitement at the sight of him. He was like an ice sculpture that had been magicked into life but so very alive, his muscles rippling and tail swaying. He stood proudly, head held high, sharp golden horn pointing towards the ceiling, breathing steadily through his nostrils. She wanted to hate him, but his breathtaking beauty made it difficult.

  When she had looked at the wolves earlier, her first instinct had been to run, knowing that the animals could overpower her if they chose. Yet, looking at this majestic creature, she had the opposite reaction. She was drawn to him and could not run away if she’d wanted to.

  “Welcome,” said a voice. Thandie turned to look and saw an elderly woman, dressed in white, standing towards the back of the room. The interpreter. What was she doing in this castle? Did she work for the beast? Or was she a prisoner here like the stolen ones? How did she interpret the unicorn’s words? The interpreter must have powers of sorcery of her own.

  “You look cold.”

  Thandie knew that the interprete
r was the one speaking but still, the voice seemed to come from the beast himself. He was somehow eloquent, even though he couldn’t speak. This female voice, alongside his magnificent appearance, gave the impression of softness, goodness. He didn’t look or seem like a monster. She had to keep reminding herself what he was – the enemy – and looked away, in an attempt to break the spell.

  “I am the perfect temperature,” said Thandie, gritting her teeth to stop them chattering. She would show no weakness. She would keep control. She would tell him nothing, show him nothing. He could not take anything from her that she did not freely give – Sander had told her that – so she would tell him as little as possible. She was here to rescue the missing people and she would keep reminding them all of that fact.

  “Where are all the others?” Thandie directed her question to Sander, but he stood back, away from her, and would not meet her gaze. Not for the first time, she thought what a good actor he was, pretending to be on the unicorn’s side. If, indeed, that was what he was doing.

  “The others are quite safe,” said the interpreter, eyeing Sander suspiciously. “They don’t normally require bringing all the way here, do they?”

  Sander smiled mischievously like he had done when they had met outside Essendor castle. “Some are trickier than others, but I like the challenge.”

  Some were trickier than others. So that was confirmation. There was nobody else working for the unicorn: it was Sander who had led all the young people away and she had walked right into his trap like a clueless grat. Perhaps Linnell, with her dreams of material things and wishes for a better life, was easy to trick, but she, Thandie, required a more complex web of lies. He had tried to gain her trust by confessing to some of his crimes, and appealed to her sense of heroism. But all of it was to get her to the place in which she was currently standing.

  Sander had taken her here to betray her.

  THE REAL REASON

  Thandie

  Thandie’s swallowed hard. There was a possibility that Sander was pretending to the unicorn that he had lured her here with cunning lies. It was confusing, but either way she couldn’t rely on him. She would have to just do what she had come here to do.

  The unicorn walked slowly up to Thandie. He was standing on what appeared to be a circular pool of frozen ice, the blue sky visible below its surface. He looked her up and down and snorted, clouds of steam billowing into the icy air. The interpreter spoke.

  “His Majesty would like to know the reason for your visit.”

  Thandie scrunched her hands into tight fists. What was she supposed to say? Sander had told her to lie but now she wasn’t sure if she should trust his advice. Her thoughts were racing and she wasn’t even sure that she could remember the lie she had prepared. Her mouth was dry. But she was here, in front of the unicorn – this was her chance.

  “I have a question for him – a request. I am told that he grants wishes.”

  The unicorn stopped and stared at her, hooves scratching the icy surface of the pool.

  “This is true. What is it that you truly desire?”

  What did she truly desire? An image of her mother flew unbidden into her mind. Thandie was resting her cheek on her mother’s shoulder while she read to her at bedtime. Thandie could almost feel the warmth and familiar smell of her, her long hair gently tickling her arm. But why was this coming into her mind now? She would not share this with the unicorn.

  Thandie tried to bring to mind her cover story of wanting riches – beautiful things – but she couldn’t seem to find the words. She would have to think quickly. She gazed all around at the fine room. She thought of Linnell’s book, marked at the page of kings and queens, and found her voice.

  “In my city, Essendor, the rich people live protected behind the city walls, whereas the ordinary folk live in humble cottages outside. Sometimes they sleep four or five to a room. This is not right. I desire to live like a queen. I want to dress in fancy clothes and to sleep in a soft feather bed. To live in a fine palace. Just as you do.”

  Thandie spoke passionately, her voice rising. She felt sure that these were the things that others would have asked for.

  The unicorn paused for a moment, studying her, and then shook his head slowly, his mane ruffling. He lifted his chin and made a neighing sound. To Thandie, it sounded like a laugh. The interpreter spoke the unicorn’s words again.

  “An ardent speech, Thandie. Quite believable. Yet I do not believe you.”

  She had thought she had been so convincing. What now? Thandie’s hands began to tremble and she shoved them into her pockets. She tried to sneak another quick look at Sander but he had backed away again and was loitering behind the interpreter. Thandie was on her own.

  “His Majesty suspects you are trying to trick him. You are really here because of the other children, aren’t you, Thandie?”

  She had to speak and she had to show that she was not afraid. She stared into the interpreter’s eyes, ignoring the unicorn all together. The woman’s eyes were creased at the edges, like a kindly grandmother’s, yet Thandie could detect no warmth. “Why do you call him ‘His Majesty’? The creature is no king.”

  The woman laughed. “He is king of this world in the clouds.”

  “But he has no subjects. What use is a king in an empty castle?”

  “He has over forty subjects and is gaining power all the time. Before long he will no doubt be king in your world, too, and you will be calling him by his true title.”

  “Subjects! They are not his subjects. He kidnapped them!”

  The unicorn made a sound, like a deep neigh, in his throat. The interpreter translated.

  “No one is a prisoner here. Every single one of these people came willingly, just as you have done today. The doors are unlocked and everyone stays here through choice. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

  Thandie stopped pretending. It was obvious that the unicorn wasn’t going to believe a word and she was no good at acting anyway. She looked around the room, noting the door at the back. “Where are they?”

  “They are just over there through that door. They are well looked after. I am no monster.” Here, the interpreter pointed behind them. “You will get to meet them and see for yourself. First, why not talk a while? Why not explain what you really want – why are you really here? Everyone has something that they really desire. In the end, that always matters more than anything.”

  Thandie put her hands to her head. She was so tired. Her thoughts felt muddled and she wished she could think straight. Who had told her that the unicorn was evil? It had been other people who had told her a monster was kidnapping children; Thandie had suspected all along that they might be leaving of their own accord.

  Why was she really here? It was to free the people, wasn’t it? But more thoughts of her mother leaped into her mind, uninvited. She closed her eyes lightly and breathed in deeply through her nose. The air was cold and crisp. “The lives of these children and their families matters more than just me. I am just an individual. They are many.”

  It was true. Thandie tried to remember Linnell’s father – the trust in his kind blue eyes. He was putting all his faith in her. He wanted his daughter back. He was why she was really here. He and countless others like him.

  “I know why you are really here,” the unicorn continued. She no longer noticed that the interpreter was speaking for him; it was as if he spoke directly to Thandie. “You may be telling yourself that you are here to free all the missing children, but you are really trying to find a missing person of your own, aren’t you?

  Thandie’s heart thumped in her chest. “How do you know about my mother?”

  The unicorn laughed and continued. “Do not concern yourself with how I know. I know a lot of things. All this energy from these young minds! You were young when she went away, weren’t you?”

  Then Thandie’s attention was drawn to something in the interpreter’s hand. A book. A familiar-looking book, dog-eared and bound in leather. Her
heart hammered in her chest.

  It was her diary.

  THE DIARY

  Thandie

  Of course Sander had stolen her diary. Why had she ever trusted him? Thandie wanted to reach out and grab it but she refused to show how much it meant to her.

  For some reason, this betrayal felt worse to her than his lies about the number of people he’d led away. Her diary was her everything. The only link now to her mother. The record of what had happened and all her memories.

  This was how the unicorn knew her desires. He had read her secret thoughts scrawled in black ink.

  Seven. She had been seven years old when her mother left. It was during the reign of the evil King Zelos. People were hungry and there was no food. Crime rates were high. People were desperate. And people were going missing. It was a bit different to this time around: most of the missing were adults, and they all seemed to be people who had upset Zelos in some way. Zelos was arresting people for small misdemeanours but instead of putting them into prison he was recruiting them as his spies. Or so the rumours ran.

  Thandie hadn’t considered that her mother might disappear. Her mother was brave and creative and it was just the two of them; she wouldn’t let herself get arrested in the middle of the night. But that, of course, was exactly what did happen. Thandie went from being half of a close mother and daughter pair to being on her own. For a few years she was passed around from house to house: some better than others but never finding a home of her own. At least she was not left to fend for herself as some other children were. Then Madam Tilbury took her in.

  Thandie was not going to tell the unicorn any of that. She was not going to tell the unicorn anything. She never spoke to anyone about her mother. But fragments of memory flooded into her mind, as much as she tried to push them away.

  Her mother’s hair tickling her as she leaned over to kiss her goodnight. The smell of rosewater. The pain of a grazed knee vanishing when her mother kissed it better.