A Charm for a Unicorn

by Jennifer Macaire

  In the brick fireplace, a cozy fire already warmed the room, and the bed had been made with flannel sheets and a fuzzy red and green plaid blanket. His saddle bags were next to the bed, and he saw that his clothes had been hung in the open closet. Next to the closet there was one, floor-length window. The shutters were closed and there were heavy, green velvet curtains to keep the draft out. It was a festive room, with a wreath of ivy and holly hanging on the wall just above the fireplace.

  Cook set the pitcher down next to a basin. “Take your time. I'll keep your tea warm and dinner will be ready soon."

  "Thank you,” said Sylvain. He washed up and put on a clean tunic. Over the table where the basin rested hung a small mirror. His reflection stared gravely at him. A small-boned man with straight, chocolate brown hair and dark brown eyes, so dark you couldn't see his pupils. Violet shadows smudged his eyes and his hair had a small twig caught in it. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. He needed a good wash and a shave, but more than that he needed a meal and a long rest.

  He turned and faced the door, reaching for the round, pewter handle. Suddenly his hand shook. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and tried to will his thoughts away. Thoughts of Leonie sitting near the fireplace, the light warming her porcelain skin.

  "I don't love her,” he said, his voice rough. But he didn't believe himself, and he was afraid to look at her. Afraid that she would read the feelings in his eyes and despise him forever.

  A shudder ran through him, but he was no coward. He opened the door and went toward the kitchen, where he could hear Cook chattering, and where Leonie's laugh made him quake like a tree in a storm.

  * * * *

  For dinner, Cook had baked a chicken pot pie, and as she brought it to the table steam escaped from the pasty top, spreading the scent of rosemary.

  "Rosemary for remembrance,” said Leonie, and she blew some of the steam toward the little box where the snake lay curled in its winter sleep.

  "Will you be able to wake him?” Sylvain didn't look at her. He passed his plate to Cook and then stared at the heaping serving of chicken wrapped in crusty pastry, bathed in a sauce redolent of rosemary.

  "I will. That looks delicious.” Leonie sighed and picked up her fork. “I've been talking to Cook,” she said, spearing a carrot. “And I told her about being a unicorn."

  Sylvain glanced at her, then quickly down at his plate again. There was a chip on the side of the plate, he noticed, and his napkin was made of blue linen. “Do unicorns like chicken pot pie?"

  She laughed, and he lifted his head in surprise, though he hadn't meant to look at her. Their eyes met, and she stopped laughing. It was as if a torch had been doused.

  "I'm sorry, I'm very tired. Please excuse me,” he stammered. He pushed his plate away and stood up. “When Ann arrives, give her my regards and tell her I hope to see her in the morning."

  She stood too, her expression puzzled. “Of course. She won't be long now. Good night, Sylvain, and thank you for your help. Without you, I would not have had the courage to come back here and face everyone. You helped me make up my mind—to decide something for the first time in my life, and I will never forget that."

  "Will we be leaving soon to Querel?” he turned, speaking with his back to her. He felt like a cad, but there was no way he could look at her. It would break his heart, and he needed it a little while longer, at least.

  "As soon as I find the counter spell for my father."

  "Good night, then.” Sylvain turned and bowed briefly and then walked stiffly out of the kitchen and into his room. There, he lay in bed and stared into the darkness. An owl hooted, and the wind moaned softly in the chimney. He wondered if he'd ever find peace again, if he'd ever be like that small boy sitting on his bed in the summertime, watching the curtains blow. A boy with no worries, and no other plans but going to catch frogs in the moat.

  And then he surprised himself by realizing he never wanted to be that way again. Life, with all its pain and joys, was calling him. For the first time he wanted to do something spectacular, not just be the younger prince, the second son, the worthless one.

  His mother and father had never taken him seriously since he was never to become king. But even if he wasn't king, he could be useful. He was going to do something ... the only problem was, he didn't know what. Before he could decide, sleep claimed him, and unicorns ran through his dreams like quicksilver.

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  Chapter Sixteen

  Leonie's Charm

  When Ann came home, she was exhausted, so exhausted it took her a moment to comprehend that Bob had opened the door for her, and Leonie was back.

  "Leo!” Ann dropped her basket of medicine and potions and flung herself into Leonie's arms. She turned to Bob. “And Bob, did the spell wear off?"

  "No, Leonie took it off. She's become a magician,” said Bob, giving Ann a hug. It was the first time Leonie had seen him getting emotional. He had to get a handkerchief from Cook and dab at his eyes.

  Ann sat down. “I just can't believe you're back. It seems like part of a dream.” She pinched herself and gave a sort of half laugh, half sob. “I'm not dreaming. You're finally here. I've been so worried.” With that, she buried her face in her arms and began to cry.

  "Don't cry, it makes me sad."

  Ann laughed through her tears. “I'm crying from joy. How did you escape Sir Wulfe? Did Prince Sylvain come rescue you?"

  "He did. And yes, he's here. He went to bed a while ago. He was tired. You look knackered, Ann. Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine, now that you're here.” She dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose on her handkerchief.

  "I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner. But I had so much to learn.” Leonie put her arms around Ann and held her a minute. Then she pulled away and said. “I have to talk to you tomorrow when you're rested. Don't worry, I won't go anywhere."

  "I know you won't.” Ann gave her a watery smile. Leonie gave her a kiss, then let Cook take care of Ann. Magic and healing didn't come easy to Ann, and the days she spent in the village drained her completely.

  "I'll transform Father back to his normal self, so you can get some rest,” Leonie said to her before she went upstairs to bed.

  Ann gave her an incredulous look, then shook her head. She obviously didn't believe she was capable of such a feat. But she'd changed. Everything was different now.

  It took the better part of the night, but Leonie finally found what she needed. The charm was easy once you had the right words, and she memorized it without too much difficulty. Then, as the sky began to turn gray, she brought the snake into the study and undid the magic that Sir Wulfe had wrought.

  She thought her father would be confused and disoriented at first, so she had Bob light a fire in the chimney and asked Cook for some hot spiced cider. Her father woke up slowly, but he wasn't at all befuddled. Sipping his cider, he stood next to the chimney and looked over the rim of his cup at her. Finally, he sighed and put it down.

  "I have to talk to you, Leonie."

  "Go ahead.” She braced herself for a good scolding, but he drew a chair up next to her and took her hands in his. That startled her so much she nearly jumped. Biting her lip, she looked at him. “What is it, Father?"

  "Your mother was like the morning star. She sparkled. People loved her without even knowing her. For a while I thought it was just because she was lovely and kind, and because she was always cheerful. A smile is the most beautiful thing a woman can wear, and your mother smiled all the time. But then you were born, and something happened. She didn't grow less lovely, or stop smiling, but her sparkle faded and disappeared."

  "What happened?"

  "The sparkle was a kind of magic she'd had. I never realized it, and I'm a magician! I spent months trying to learn what had happened, and I found out that one of your mother's ancestors had been a magician. Usually those things are well documented because of the laws of magic. Certain types of magic a
re harmful and have been bred out, because of the damage wild magic can cause."

  "I know all that. It's what we learn first,” said Leonie. “Was her magic harmful?"

  "Not exactly. But it was ... uncontrollable. And wild magic is never good for anyone."

  "What exactly did this magic do?” Leonie forced her lips to move. They felt stiff and cold, and so did her hands. She had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  "It caused men to fall passionately in love with her. It wasn't her fault that any man who saw her fell under her charm. That the king saw her and fell in love with her was unfortunate. When I married her, I suspected something. I begged her not to leave the safety of Castle Veil, and created the enchantments to serve her. She agreed willingly, because she was tired of always having men following her like love-sick swains. It might sound ridiculous to you..."

  "No, it doesn't,” said Leonie. She quelled a shudder. “I think I understand perfectly."

  "You can imagine my surprise and alarm when I found the sparkle again ... in you, Leonie."

  The implication of what he was saying sunk in. “Can you make it go away?"

  "Never. I'm sorry. It's wild magic."

  "I have to tell Sylvain and Renaldo,” she said. She wiped a tear off her cheek. “You should have told me."

  "Would you have believed me?"

  Leonie shook her head. “I suppose not. I would have thought it was just another punishment."

  "I thought that it would be better to protect you as long as possible, and when you were ready, I would have explained everything. Sir Wulfe's proposal sounded like a gift to me. He would have known how to protect you. Do you see why you cannot marry the prince? You cannot live among normal people, my daughter. I am sorry. Sorrier than you will ever know."

  Her father's words hit her like fists. Each heartbeat hurt. “That's why I wasn't allowed to go to the village, to play with the other children, or meet anyone else but another magician. That's why you transformed me when you had guests. Sir Wulfe knew."

  "Yes, he knew."

  Leonie wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. It did no good to cry about things you couldn't change. She had push her sorrow away and act. “What about Ann?"

  "She has no magic to speak of. It wasn't her fault she had to stay cooped up here. Luckily she liked it, and never wanted to leave Castle Veil."

  A knock on the door startled them. Cook poked her head in. She clucked her tongue. “You haven't slept a wink, and it's morning already. Prince Sylvain is in the kitchen, and breakfast is ready. Why don't you come downstairs?"

  "Prince Sylvain?” Sir Wulfe asked.

  "He is Prince Renaldo's brother. He came looking for him, and he ended up at Sir Wulfe's castle intending to set me free."

  "And did he set you free? How did you escape Sir Wulfe?"

  "I changed into a unicorn again and ran away. I stayed like that for weeks. Sylvain found me in the forest at Sir Wulfe's bidding. And because of Sylvain, I agreed to come back here and become myself once more. So in a way, yes, he did set me free.” She gave a crooked smile. “I didn't want to change back, you see."

  Her father looked nonplussed, then his expression softened. “I think I can understand. At any rate, I'm glad you're back, and sorry I ever made that agreement with Sir Wulfe. You won't have to see him again."

  "Oh yes I will. I intend to go back to Sir Wulfe's castle. Long enough for him to meet with the princes so that they agree to sit and parley for peace. They are supposed to be coming to a wedding, so I should be there at least, although I have no intention of marrying Sir Wulfe. And then I have to find Renaldo, I suppose, and tell him about my charm.” Her heart felt like it was breaking in little pieces. She could hardly draw a deep breath.

  "I'm sorry,” the wizard said again, shaking his head slowly. “I'm sorry about the charm, and I'm sorry about Renaldo."

  Leonie got up and paused. “It's not your fault. Wild magic is like a charm. You never know when it will turn up. I learned much in my time as a unicorn. I think I'll surprise you—as long as you don't ask me to recite my uneven verbs."

  "Irregular verbs,” said her father, a crooked smile appearing. “You will always surprise me, Leonie. Every time I think I understand you, you change like water. Ice, steam, ocean, stream and snow ... all water, all different. Like you."

  She nodded, but was still too shy to give him a hug. Instead, she took his hand as they walked downstairs, and she thought that she could start by finding happiness in small places. A hand to hold. A crooked smile. Little steps for now. The darkness was still there, but it began to recede.

  * * * *

  Sylvain looked back at his plate. His breakfast had grown cold, but he had lost his appetite anyway. Leonie was enchanted. That explained a lot: his brother's lighting-bolt infatuation, his own thudding heart whenever he looked at her, and Sir Wulfe's obsession. He wasn't surprised to feel battered by emotions. But he didn't expect to feel such sharp pity. He wished Ann had told him before, but reflected that it wouldn't have made a bit of difference. Magic was magic.

  "What will you do?” he asked Leonie.

  "I'll stay here and become a healer, like my father. He can teach me everything I need to know. If I am careful, I can go out and help women who are in need. Perhaps in time I will find a spell to counteract my problem. Because it is a problem,” she added wryly. “Ann will have take care of the men and boys for now."

  Ann laughed. “I'm just glad you're back, Leonie."

  Sylvain tapped his fingers on the table. “If you are enchanted, and people fall in love with you ... what will happen when the two princes meet you? Won't it spark more fighting if they both decide they must have you?"

  A long silence greeted his words, and he stopped poking at his cold egg and glanced up, wondering what he'd said wrong.

  "Say that again,” Leonie's father ordered.

  "I was just thinking aloud. I didn't mean any harm or disrespect,” said Sylvain, suddenly nervous. The wizard looked fierce, as if he were about to turn him into something unpleasant.

  "Just repeat what you said."

  He said uncertainly, “I think that if the two princes see Leonie, they'll fall in love with her. If they're already jealous of each other and fighting, can you imagine what Leonie's presence will do? It will be like a spark to dry tinder. I can't imagine they will sign any treaty."

  Ann gave a little gasp. “They'll be too busy reorganizing their armies in order to destroy each other. Sir Wulfe didn't want Leonie for peace, he wanted her for war!"

  Leonie and her father looked at each other. Sylvain put his knife and fork down as the importance of what Ann said hit him. “The war will get worse, won't it?"

  The wizard stood and started to pace. “I don't know very much about politics, and I've never concerned myself over affairs I couldn't control. It seemed to me that a king was born to rule, whereas a wizard was born to help others. I've never questioned my station in life. But it seems to me that Sir Wulfe will cause great strife in Querel if he insists on bringing the two princes together with Leonie. He never spoke of that to me when he proposed marriage to Leonie. He knew I would have forbidden it."

  "He sent Renaldo away in a whirlwind,” said Sylvain. “Perhaps he means to stir up troubles in Windtide as well."

  The wizard stopped pacing. “Has Renaldo been found?"

  "I don't know. I haven't had any messages from my family,” said Sylvain.

  Ann spoke up. “Sir Wulfe told me that he'd bring Renaldo back and transform my father right after the wedding."

  "The winter solstice is only a few days away. I shall have to hurry,” said Leonie.

  "Be careful. Sir Wulfe thinks I'm still in snake form. I'd like to call a meeting of magicians at the guild of wizards, but I'm afraid of what will happen to Renaldo and Leonie if Sir Wulfe finds out I'm back.” Leonie's father stood in a patch of sunlight and looked out the window, his face creased in a worried frown.

  Cook poured them
all some more tea and went to sit by the window, a basket of knitting on her knee.

  "We have to think of a plan to thwart Sir Wulfe,” said Leonie. She sipped her tea and gave a rueful laugh. “We can always disguise Sylvain as me and send him to Sir Wulfe for the wedding. The two princes will never fall in love with him."

  There was a long silence.

  "That's absurd,” said Sylvain.

  "It might work,” said the magician, looking at him in a way Sylvain didn't like at all.

  * * * *

  Transforming into a woman was a quick, almost painless process. Now he had long hair, and his body was no longer flat and strong, but willowy, and absurdly weak. He had no arm muscles at all! He was always scaring himself when he opened his mouth and Leonie's voice came out, and he couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror.

  But the hardest part for Sylvain was getting used to women's clothes. There were so many of them! And each piece was fragile as a spider's web and about as comfortable as a bramble bush. Buttons poked him, laces choked him, and he couldn't take a decent stride. His legs were hindered, his arms were mired, and even his waist and hips were wired! Worst of all were the shoes—little wobbly scraps of leather with wooden heels and pointed toes that caught in whatever came in front of them and delighted in sending him on trips—he tripped across the room, down the stairs, or into the wall. The shoes Leonie wore had small heels, but they were enough to make him clumsy. He kept tripping and catching his toes in the long dresses. So far he'd ripped the hems out of two of them.

  Mistress Dawn had come and had brought three brand new dresses, one a wedding dress made of soft, silver velvet. He had to stand still for hours while she pinned and hemmed and made adjustments. The torture women had to go through simply to dress!

  "Stop fidgeting!” Ann ordered. She combed his hair and braided it, and it pulled and hurt. He hated it. He hated being a girl.