The Deception

by Suzanne de Montigny

  The Deception

  Shadow of the Unicorn, Book 2

  By Suzanne de Montigny

  EPUB 9781771459488

  Kindle 9781771459495

  WEB/PDF 9781771459501

  Print ISBN 9781771459518

  Copyright 2016 by Suzanne de Montigny

  Cover art Michelle Lee

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

  Dedication

  To my Uncle Denis who has always stuck up for me, and to a little girl I once knew named Marie. May the writing of this book somehow heal a wrong of so long ago.

  * * *

  Author’s Note

  Half of the author’s proceeds from the Shadow of the Unicorn series are donated to the Third World Eye Care Society, a group of eye specialists who travel to third world countries delivering thousands of pairs of glasses and performing eye surgery for free.

  Chapter 1

  In the Beginning

  The colt was born in the early hours of the morning when birds chirped in hushed tones, and the sun reached out to touch the earth. Squinting at the shimmering colours the day brought, he shivered in the crisp air while the warm tongue of his dam licked his wet fur.

  “Hurry, little one. You have to rise.” His mother’s eyes darted back and forth searching between the narrow trunks of trees and the dark foliage surrounding them. “There’s no time.”

  The colt struggled, his legs trembling at the weight of his body. Giving a small grunt, he rolled back onto the dried leaves and needles scattered on the soft earth.

  “Quickly, or you won’t survive.” He felt her nose nudge his ribs.

  He yawned, his eyes still heavy with sleep. A warm scent filled his nostrils, luring him. Hoisting himself up, he took two wobbly steps forward and reached for her udder.

  “That’s it,” the mare cooed. “You’re doing well. Come on.”

  The colt took another tentative step.

  A deep voice growled from behind. “Hurry, Sarah. We have to move.”

  The colt flinched and turned to see a creature much like his mother whose white coat shimmered against the shadows of the dark forest, and whose silvery head was crowned by a long spiral horn like hers. But he was much bigger and his voice more forceful.

  “Just give him a little more time, Icarus,” she pleaded.

  The stallion scowled. “No. You have to get back to the herd before the night creatures smell him.”

  Sarah moved forward, her hooves rustling in the dry leaves as she coaxed the foal to follow. The tiny unicorn’s legs gave way, and he fell again, rolling on the cold ground below.

  The stallion’s eyes blazed. “Get him up. Fast or I’ll –”

  “No, it’s okay!” She moved between them and nuzzled the colt again. “Come on. You can do it.”

  The colt faltered for a moment, but this time caught his footing. Seeing his mother take slow steps forward, he followed her, his breath heavy, steam flaring from his nostrils. They walked together, his legs wobbling and trembling, until they arrived to where the others huddled together in a copse of trees, wary and expectant.

  “This is the last of the foals,” said Icarus, drawing up alongside an aged mare whose coat bore a dull grey, but whose eyes spoke of authority. “Quick we must name them so we can return to the shadows to hide.” Facing the herd, he commanded, “All hail Ramah, the ancient one.”

  The unicorns parted as the old mare moved with ceremony to the center of the herd, her pale blue eyes challenging. “Bring the foals forward,” she ordered.

  The colt felt his mother nudge his rump. Throwing her a desperate glance, he dug in his hooves and let out an anxious whinny.

  “You need to go, little one,” Sarah coaxed. “It’ll only be for a short time.”

  He spun around and dove between her hooves, his ears flattened, until he saw three other foals, all damp like him, standing by Ramah. Gathering up his courage, he took cautious steps to join them.

  The colt shivered when Ramah lowered her head to his level and grunted. He turned, following her every move. She circled him with narrowed eyes and rumbled from time to time. His heart beat fast, and his ears twitched as she studied him.

  Then she nodded. “Sarah, you have born a strong son. Already his stance is steady, and he shows stamina. I daresay he may be an explorer someday. I shall name him Ulysees.”

  “U-li-si-uss.” The colt tried his name.

  Before he could finish saying the word, Ramah had moved to one of the other foals. “And you, Clarisse, have born a filly of great beauty.” She paced around, tilting her head from side to side. “Her eyes reflect the colour of the heavens.”

  Ulysees glanced up at the ever-brightening sky. It was true. The filly’s eyes were the same blue.

  “I shall call her Alannah,” said Ramah.

  Quiet mumblings rippled through the herd.

  Then Ramah turned her gaze to the other colt whose hooves never seemed to stop beating the ground.

  Ulysees’ tail flicked back and forth at the sight of the foal.

  “Rebeccah, your son is rambunctious. I foresee a great protector. You shall name him Téo.”

  Ulysees broke into a full smile and took his first leap toward the other colt. Sarah rumbled a warning, sending him scurrying back to her side.

  Ramah moved to the last foal. “Susannah, your filly possesses warm, brown eyes filled with serenity. Undoubtedly, she will someday be a consolation to the other mares. You shall call her Lilia.”

  Again, soft mumbles sounded within the herd.

  Ramah cleared her throat. “And now, before we disperse, we will all repeat our vow to our ancestor, Azaria, the founder of our legacy. It is to him we owe our survival. It is he who defeated Ishmael, allowing us to thrive. To him we are forever grateful. Let us renew our promise.”

  The unicorns bowed their heads in reverence, their horns pointing to the aged mare, their voiced joined in chorus. “We pledge allegiance to Azaria that we shall always flee the humans and their allies from here until the end of time, or so spare me Jaresh.”

  Ramah began the chant. “We will survive!” Her voice was soft at first, but grew in intensity.

  The others joined, “We will survive, we will survive, we will survive!”

  When the last echoes of the mantra died down to a murmur, the ancient mare spoke the final words. “And now, let us return to the depths of the woods where we shall live as shadows.”

  Chapter 2

  The Meadow

  Five suns later, the cries of the other foals awoke Ulysees. He raised his head and strained his sleepy eyes toward the noise in time to see Icarus herding the bawling foals away from the mares.

  Ulysees clambered to his dam’s side. “Mother!” He searched her face for reassurance, but Sarah stood transfixed, her eyes skittering.

  “Come, Ulysees,” a cold voice said from behind.

  Ulysees swung around. It was Ramah. He bolted back two steps. “Mother, save me!”

  Sarah remained frozen, her voice quivering. “Ulysees, you must go with them. You have to learn the skills vital to your survival.”

  “Sur-vi-val?” he asked. “What’s that?”

  “It means no human can capture you or harm you because you’re strong and swift. You must never lose your freedom because it’s far worse than death.”

  Ulysees shuddered, his eyes wide. “But what are humans?” he asked.

  Lowering her head to his level, Sa
rah spoke in a near-whisper. “They’re strange creatures that walk on two legs and have no fur. And instead of hooves, they have hands, like apes, that give them the power to do things you could never imagine. They’re very dangerous.”

  Ulysees turned and eyed the other foals, his hide rippling.

  “Go, my son. The day will pass quickly enough, and then you’ll be with me again.”

  “But Mother –”

  “You have no choice.” She cast her eyes down.

  Ulysees felt the thump of Ramah’s nose pushing him from behind. He let out a nervous cry and dug in his heels.

  “Stop that!” commanded Ramah, her coarse voice grating his ears. “You’re a unicorn. You must show honour and valour.”

  “But I don’t know what valour is.” Ulysees’ face contorted.

  “Don’t be silly. You have to be brave. You can be away from your mother for a little while,” she said, her voice filled with sarcasm.

  He swung about one last time to search for Sarah, but she was already gone.

  The foals whimpered while they traveled, but as the distance from the mares grew, their cries became weaker. They walked for what seemed ages, until they came to a meadow deep in the forest. Here green grass blew softly in the wind, and the sun warmed the earth, unhindered by the shade of the leaves. The colours, tiny drops of red, yellow, and pink that grew in the grass – the flowers – made him draw in his breath.

  Slipping in beside Téo, he waited to see what Icarus would do.

  The stallion turned and addressed them, his voice stern. “You are all the ancestors of Azaria, the Great Stallion, the one who defeated Ishmael and founded our Legacy. It was he who taught the unicorns our three survival techniques, and you shall all learn them to perfection. Perfection – understood? For if you don’t, you may perish at the hands of the humans.” He paused, assessing each of the foals in turn.

  Ulysees and Téo shared nervous glances.

  Icarus continued. “The first technique you must learn is to ride the wind. It looks like this.” Icarus leapt forward and … disappeared.

  The unicorns exchanged wide-eyed stares, mumbling excited words until the stallion rematerialized.

  “You saw that?” Icarus asked. Looking somewhat smug, his eyes roved over the foals and landed on Ulysees. “Ulysees, you’ll try it first.”

  “B-but I don’t know what you did,” said Ulysees.

  “And you won’t know either until you try it,” Icarus said, his tone derisive. “Now go!”

  Trembling, Ulysees took two cautious steps forward. He raised his forelegs to race away, but before he could move, Icarus shouted.

  “No! You have to wait until the wind blows, and then catch it and let it carry you.”

  Ulysees cowered at his words. “Like this?” He paused for a few seconds, a breeze ruffling the downy fur of his ears, and then leapt, galloping only a few lengths.

  “Ugh!” said Icarus, his patience waning. “Wait longer. You have to become the wind.”

  “But I don’t know how to become the wind.” Ulysees’ voice shook.

  “Do you want to be captured?” Icarus growled.

  “No.” Ulysees cowered.

  “Then do what I say!” ordered the stallion.

  Ulysees tried again. He stood unmoving, listening for the rustle of the leaves in the trees. When a strong gust blew, he leapt again. This time, the wind lifted him, transporting him for a short distance, and then dropped him with a soft thud. His heart racing with exhilaration, Ulysees let out a cry, his eyes wide at how far he’d travel.

  Icarus rewarded him with the tiniest hint of a smile, but then resumed his hard stance. “Alright, that’s the idea. Who wants to try now?”

  Téo was next, then Alannah, and finally Lilia. They spent the afternoon leaping and catching the wind until their eyes grew sleepy and their young legs wobbly. When the sun had traveled low in the sky, Ulysees was overjoyed to hear the eager steps of the mares who had come to find their young.

  Despite his fatigue, he bounded to Sarah, bursting with news. “Look, Mother. I can ride the wind!” He ran with all his might, leaping into the air, flying little stretches to the end of the meadow.

  When his mother cheered from a distance, he did it again – anything to see her smile, until Icarus’ ferocious neigh made them turn, and they followed him obediently in complete silence.

  Chapter 3

  The Hidden Spot Among the Trees

  As night fell, they gathered together in the hidden spot among the trees, the entire herd mute; their ears flicking. The air was cool, and the sky had turned a dark, indigo blue. They waited for the sound of Icarus and Ramah’s hooves to drift away into the night, and then burst into conversation.

  Ulysees hung close to his dam and listened to the excited chatter that sprouted and grew with each passing moment.

  “Do you know if the pink flowers have started to bloom?” whinnied a mare.

  “Yes, they have, and the dandelions are coming up too,” said Sarah, her voice pitched high with excitement.

  “What about the purple ones? Any sign?” asked another mare.

  “No, but you know how rare those are,” said Sarah.

  “That’s because this isn’t the right place for purple flowers,” an aged voice grumbled from the edge of the herd.

  “Now, now, Danae,” said Sarah.

  “It’s true.” The old stallion said. “The valley where the unicorns lived before the fireball had purple flowers growing everywhere.”

  Ulysees’ ears pricked forward at his words.

  “My great-grandfather Gaelan told me. He said it was a paradise before the humans came.”

  “Danae –”

  “What happened to it?” asked Ulysees, moving closer.

  Danae took a deep breath. “Well, you see, there was a great fireball that struck the earth many years ago. At first we thought it was the sun that had hit us because everything went dark, and because the air was filled with ash that fell for many moons, killing off the plants. Then the storms that slept and reawakened came, destroying our forests. Many of our kin starved to death, and the older ones were taken by the storms. For a while, it looked as though we wouldn’t survive, but then spring came, and the sun returned, bringing the tender shoots that saved what was left of us.”

  Ulysees shuddered, his eyes growing twice their size. “No sun?”

  “No sun,” said Danae. “They thought their troubles were all over, but then the humans arrived with their leader, Ishmael, and built a town of sand and straw. It’s amazing what they can do with those ape hands. At first, they didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in the unicorns, so the Great Stallion let his guard down. Big mistake, because when they least expected it, Ishmael captured one of the herds.”

  The foals gasped, their restless hooves thudding the ground.

  “Whoa!” shouted Téo.

  “Then to make matters worse, a plague broke out among the humans, and Ishmael discovered the healing power of our horns.”

  “How?” asked Alannah.

  “It happened when his own daughter caught the disease and was near death. A kind mare took pity on the little girl and touched her with her horn. The child sat up talking and laughing like she’d never been sick at all.”

  The foals mumbled with excitement.

  “Well, you’d think Ishmael would be thankful, but no. He began exploiting the unicorns to heal the plague in exchange for gold.”

  “What’s gold?” asked Lilia in the quietest of voices.

  “It’s little yellow stones that catch the light of the sun. No one knows why humans like the stuff. It’s not like you can eat it or anything.” He shook his mane and snorted. “Anyway, nine unicorns gave up their lives curing that plague.”

  Ulysees heard him swallow.

  “Nine” Danae paused as though deep in thought. He cleared his throat. “Then, by some miracle, the captured herd escaped, but it didn’t stop Ishmael one tiny bit. He wanted more gold, and so
he tracked those unicorns into the mountains where he discovered they could disappear at random and travel without leaving traces. Once he knew that, he figured out how to outsmart them. Then he gathered his cronies together and organized a hunt high into the hills. He got so close that the Great Stallion, Polaris, had to lure him away so the others could escape. But it cost him. Not only did he lose his life, but he lost his horn when Ishmael sawed it off. That was why Azaria swore from then on that all unicorns would flee humans until the end of time.”

  The moonlight reflected in Danae’s eyes for a moment revealing tears. He let out a long sigh. When he spoke again, his voice had hardened. “That was all before Jaresh.”

  “Danae, no,” cried Sarah, her voice rising. “It’s forbidden.”

  “I don’t care,” Danae rumbled. “I –”

  “Who’s Jaresh?” asked Alannah.

  Sarah paused for a moment, and then with a faltering voice, began her explanation. “He’s the great being who gave us the gift of healing … and our abilities. He also gave Azaria the power to defeat Ishmael.” Her words rang uncertain.

  Danae let out a snort. “Horse manure!”

  “Danae.” Sarah whispered.

  Ulysees’ ears pricked forward with interest. “What does he look like?” he asked.

  A slow cloud drifted over the moon, momentarily darkening the night.

  “No one knows.” Sarah sighed. “Because no one has seen him.”

  Ulysees shivered at their words and moved closer to his dam. “Then how do we know he exists?”

  As the cloud floated past the moon, Ulysees saw Sarah steal a quick glance to the trail behind her that Icarus and Ramah had taken. “Because we’ve been told so throughout the years.”

  “Yeah, right. By someone with a really big mouth and long teeth,” retorted Danae.