by Sarah Hoyt
The room went wild. She’d half expected it would. The thing she didn’t expect is that it would be all caused by Seraphim, because the other two were completely speechless. Elfborn managed something that might have been a nod; Gabriel Penn had covered his face. BUT the duke made up for it in triplicate, by jumping up and yelling at her, at the two other men, at – possibly – the walls of the room. She couldn’t make much sense of his yelling, but the gist of it, as far as she could tell, was that Gabriel didn’t know what he was doing; that at nineteen he’d been underage; that Elfborn had used compulsion and magical tricks; that he was a more powerful magician than anyone else in Avalon, just about, and that he had no morals, as he’d proven by reanimating his dead lover and keeping him around; and that Seraphim would put a bullet in his head and soon. At which point Nell screamed for Seraphim to shut up. And it was absolutely ineffective, showing that there were limits to the princessing powers.
And then Gabriel spoke, very quietly, and Seraphim stopped, suddenly, and looked at Gabriel in complete shock. “He didn’t use compulsion, Seraphim,” Gabriel said. “I know, because I did.”
There was a long silence, and the Duke of Darkwater swayed slightly on his feet. “You what?”
“I used compulsion, Seraphim. It was a stupid thing to do, but I was very young and I knew nothing of life outside Darkwater… Not really, not as an adult. But I knew THAT. How do you think I survived after my mother left her husband and before our father found us?”
“You….”
“I found gentlemen of certain tastes were willing to pay for a comely half-elf child. Yes, I know what is wrong with them. Yes, I agree with you that those gentlemen deserve death – or at least … no one should have to do that when they’re only a child and can’t understand any of it. On the other hand, without it, I’d have died of starvation. Crossing sweeping doesn’t pay that much.”
“But–” Seraphim dropped back onto the chair by the table, next to Nell’s. “But… you never told me.”
“You were younger than I. And besides, there are things one doesn’t talk about. I was… just glad to be at Darkwater, and to have enough food, and not to have to… not to have to do that.”
“Oh. Did father–”
“Of course. When he found me he knew. It was rumors that led him to me, and he knew how I’d been living. He was shocked, and… it overcame his reluctance to bring his half-elf child into the house.”
“Did he tell you not to speak of it?”
“No. He… He let me speak of it to him, for a while. I had to. You don’t understand, I think. If it’s possible to have scars on one’s mind or perhaps one’s soul–” He shrugged. “I had to talk to someone, but it was hard to. It was easier to Father, because he already knew. I think that’s when I came to love him as a father. Before that, he was just… a vague figure. And of course my mother said horrible things of him.”
“But after that….” Seraphim looked from Gabriel to Elfborn. “After living through that— How could you– I mean, wouldn’t it put you off men? Perhaps off all physical contact.”
“For a long time, I thought I’d never want to do that – with anyone. When I got old enough that the scullery maid tried to show–” He coughed. “That is, when girls our age started showing an interest, despite my elf blood, I thought I’d been too wounded to ever feel that for anyone. I didn’t even really like to be touched. I tolerated it from you and Father, but I didn’t like it and I certainly didn’t want any more intimate touching. But then…,” He cast a look from beneath lowered lashes towards Marlon Elfborn, “we became friends. Both of us had elf blood, and….” He shrugged again. “We had a similar sense of humor. And around him I didn’t feel like he was cringing, afraid of what my magic might do at any minute. I–” The blush came again, dark red, and Nell wondered if the duke also blushed like that. She must find an occasion to test it. “I fell in love. But he was… he didn’t seem to care. So… I used a compulsion.”
“It wasn’t that,” Marlon said. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want— It was just… Aiden was the one person I could trust. After he died…” He shrugged. “And since I didn’t have the courage to destroy his corpse, I felt like I was too tainted to–” He paused as though something registered. “You used compulsion?”
“Only the first time,” Gabriel put his hands up. “Only the first time, I swear.”
“You do know that’s legally rape, right?” Elfborn’s eyes danced with amusement. “Three capital crimes. Only one is yours, princeling.”
“He was underage!” Seraphim said, in the sulky tone of someone who has a feeling he’s losing an argument.
“Right,” Nell said. “Now that this is out in the open, and that the duke of Darkwater doesn’t have to protect my ears from sullying–”
“You’re very jaded, Madame,” he said, disapprovingly.
“Rather,” she answered drily. “But let me ask the important question – who came to your door? And why did they want to find me? You said people from Fairyland?”
“The centaurs,” Elfborn said. “And they wanted to bring you back to Britannia. I didn’t see any harm in that.”
A Pure Mind
Caroline reeled at the sight of the caged centaur, the bloodied unicorns. A couple of unicorns, at the edge of the clearing, made passes at her with their bloodied horns, and she stepped back.
She thought she would be safe, and that’s why the centaurs had called her. After all, virgins were supposed to be safe from unicorns, weren’t they? And a virgin she was. But there was something else operating here, something that didn’t seem to fit in with that idea.
For one, while she was willing to believe perhaps the caged centaur, Akakios, despite his name, was no more than her age – perhaps younger, it was hard to tell – he might very well not be a virgin. She had an idea that centaurs were more sensuous creatures than humans, and she was very willing to doubt that he was a virgin. But all the same. She bit her lip. All the same, it wasn’t possible that among all the centaurs – and where were their females? – there wouldn’t be at least one who retained his or her virginity. Why would they have let Akakios go anywhere near the unicorns, if he weren’t safe? And if the trap had been laid for Akakios unaware and he didn’t know there were centaurs about, surely they would have another member of their tribe who could free him?
So why Caroline? Other than that she was a stranger and they didn’t care if she lived or died? But no, that couldn’t be it, either. She could see the boy centaur was bleeding. They might not care for her, but they cared for their friend. If Caroline didn’t succeed, she wouldn’t save him.
She turned rounding on the male centaur who had spoken to her. “You said he is your son. But who are you?”
The centaur threw back his head, “I am Nomiki, King of Centaurs.” He somehow managed to look beseeching and regal all in one. “And I ask you as a boon to my whole tribe that you save my son.”
Caroline took a deep breath. Then she disciplined her face as she had learned in preparation for her season, when in truth the stakes would have been much smaller, even if not according to the lady her mother. She showed no doubt, no emotion, and conveyed the impression of being somehow above all these creatures, as she said, “Not until you tell me why you chose me and what you want.”
She expected anger, or perhaps surprise. She didn’t get it. Instead, the man – the centaur, got up from his knees and tossed his head in a way that made her think of a horse. “It is fair and proper,” he said. “That we tell the champion what her weapons are before she goes into battle.”
Had Caroline been less trained in the social graces, she would have asked him what he meant and if he were mocking her. But her understanding of etiquette stayed her tongue, and what she said, when she’d had time to take a breath and recover her composure, was, “I presume it is not just for my virginity you sought me. Surely some of your people have that virtue, too.”
He made a sound. It might have been a chuckle
, but it sounded like the sound a horse makes to clear its nostrils. “Akakios has that virtue,” he said, “and you see how much good it has been to him.”
Caroline looked at the boy centaur in his cage out the corner of her eye. “Yes,” she said. “I see. So, what makes you think I can avoid the like fate?”
The king of centaurs shuffled his hooves on the ground, and Caroline had to exert all restraint to keep herself from rummaging in her pockets for a sugar cube, as she did when her pony was impatient or restless. She had a feeling it would not be well received.
“It is like this, you see—we’ve heard tell, as you have, and as everyone has, from time immemorial, that the virtue of the virgin can stop the murderous unicorn. So when we needed… That is… When we wanted to rescue the–” He paused.
“When you wanted to rescue the—?” Caroline said, implacably.
“The duke your father.”
“My what?” Caroline said, and on that, her composure broke, and her appearance of calm.
“Your father, Lady,” Nomiki said, and frowned slightly.
“But my father is dead!”
Nomiki looked puzzled and opened his mouth, then shrugged. “It is not that simple, and I do not have time to explain it, though I promise to, once Akakios is safe and his wounds bound. But the unicorns guard your father, to whom we owe a debt of honor, and Akakios, brave and pure, made a vow to free him.…”
“It did not go according to his intent,” Caroline said, her composure returning.
Nomiki shook his head. “No. And we cast leaves into the fire and asked of the Pythoness–”
“Who?”
“It matters not. We asked of the oracle and received an answer for our confusion. Akakios is pure enough in his body and mind but not in his magic. His mother, you see, she is a stranger, and from her he gets another type of magic. He lacks the strength and the intent to… It is not the purity of body that counts…though that does too, with the uncounted possibilities of a future unset, but it is the purity of the mind, forged and ready, steel and fire. The way to keep the unicorn from tearing you to pieces is to keep him from piercing you by controlling his mind. And he’ll take only the most clear, bright directions. Among our band, we have many who are pure in body, but none so pure in spirit.”
“And you think I am?” Caroline asked.
“We know you are. It was the clear, fiery precision of your mind that attracted us.” The King started to kneel again. “Lady, daughter of the duke, save my son.”
It was crazy, foolhardy, full of unwarranted pride on her part. In her mind she could hear both Seraphim and Gabriel screaming at her that she couldn’t risk her life in this way. The trouble with having older brothers is that after a while they started living in your back brain. But Caroline also knew what her duty was, and beyond all that, she’d come to Fairyland to save Michael, and she had to help three other people on the way. Even if the people were dragons and centaurs.
She reached out. “I will, but get me a sword.”
The king of centaurs hesitated. Caroline sighed. “If I’m going in there, I will not go unarmed. The sword might be pitiful, but at least it will make me feel safer. Your son has hooves and is stronger than I, and look at him. I must have something besides my supposedly strong mind.”
Nomiki shouted something that sounded Greek, and a galloping centaur with a roan body brought forth a sword on his extended arms. It was iron, and almost as long as Caroline. She thought to herself that if all else failed, she could whirl around while holding it, because surely she couldn’t wield it in any meaningful fashion. One more question, she had, as she lifted the heavy sword. “Why are the unicorns there, in that clearing, and do not attack us here?”
“That is their sacred territory. They cannot survive outside it.”
“So if I get hold of their minds and send them to you…,” she said, thinking of a plan.
But Nomiki was shaking his head. “No. You must not hurt them or kill them. Their force is part of what keeps Elfland in balance. If you destroy them, it will unravel and all the magical worlds with it. He knew that who set them as guards. We dare not kill them with our magical arrows, or we kill ourselves and all the worlds with us.”
“He who set them as guards?”
“The King of Fairy.”
A Blessing Of Unicorns
You must not hurt them or kill them, Caroline thought, on the edge of the sacred clearing, staring at the unicorns with their blood-stained horns. How could she defend herself from these magical creatures without doing either of those?
Her mind…. The force of her mind. She thought of the dragon touching her with the fire, the feeling that every impurity had burned away. Perhaps that was it. Perhaps.
One way or another, she thought, as she held the sword in both hands, she’d have to do it. One way or another, she’d have to step into the clearing. If she could not figure out how to use her mind force, or whatever her virtue the centaurs talked about was, she would just be a smear on the floor of the clearing. This might be ultimately be the end of it, but she must at least try.
She stepped over the threshold into the clearing. There should have been a magic shock, a sense of having violated a boundary. There wasn’t. She was between two trees and onto soft grass.
Five unicorns were running towards her at once. She raised the sword, hoping to stop them. They didn’t even slow, but rushed….
One of them, nearer, plunged his horn into… She thought he’d plunged his horn into her thigh, but she couldn’t feel it, even as a flower of blood bloomed through her skirt.
It seemed to Caroline that time had slowed down and that everything was happening very slowly. It seemed to her that she stared for hours at the blood seeping through her skirt, even though she knew it must have been less than a breath, because the seemingly-frozen-in-mid-leap unicorns were still approaching her.
They would pierce her multiple times with their horns. She would be a smear on the clearing grass. She–
No. The voice came out of nowhere, very clear. No, not a voice because it wasn’t someone else’s word, or someone else’s decision, but her own, coming from within. No. Just that, forceful and serene.
No, she would not be a smear on the grass. No, she was not going to die. No, she was not going to let the young centaur, Akakios – didn’t that mean no-evil? – die. No. These beautiful, ethereal death instruments could just think again.
She twisted around, the sword heavy in her hands, and pushed the unicorns away with it, trying not to bludgeon or smite, but merely use the sword as a shield. Meanwhile, her mind reached, her magic searching for a strong mind.
There would be a strong mind here. Horses were, after all, herd animals. That meant someone, probably a stallion, was the leader of the herd.
She found him, to her surprise – a tall white creature standing by the cage. He was three hands taller than the others, and his horn gleamed like pure gold. He must have felt the touch of Caroline’s mind, because he lowered his head in an aggressive gesture and looked as if he’d charge.
She never gave him time. She remembered the dragon and the words that everything that was weak and impure in her had been burned away, and she threw her magic – all of her strength and her will power – at the creature, pushing at its mind.
The mind of a unicorn was not – as the legends said – pure magic, or pure anything. Or perhaps it was, except that its purity was the purity of clear animal impulses, not muddied by reason or thought.
The mind she touched was an animal mind – a magical animal, but an animal nonetheless. She pushed into it forcefully, finding the mind that controlled it – an older, stronger and definitely human mind. It controlled the unicorn not directly, but by being its master, the way Caroline controlled her pony’s actions at home, because she was the one who carried sugar lumps in her pockets which could cause the pony to prance and nuzzle for the reward.
Very well. It was time to break that control. She seized the
animal’s mind and made it known to him that she would not – now or ever – be hurt by it or its stallions. She let it know she was the master, and gave it just a touch of the pain she could bring to bear, should it continue misguided attacks.
For a long time, she thought nothing would happen, then the head came up. The unicorns that had been mid-charge in her direction averted their jump, sometimes falling in ways that looked disastrously painful.
Caroline, a horse lover, would normally have stopped and tried to find out if the animals were hurt, or if her magic could heal them – but the moment she realized she would not be skewered on those horns, the pain hit from her leg.
It was horrible pain, blotting out her thought, and for a second she swayed and took a deep, long breath, feeling as though there were no space in her mind for anything but the pain. Sweat sprang to her forehead, soaking her hair, plastering it to her skull.
She reeled. And then, through the pain, her gaze focused on the cage. Or perhaps it was the sound of the centaurs behind her, shouting something about Akakios.
Her eyes focused on the centaur in the iron cage, looking as though he would presently lose consciousness, his head inclined, his horse-body leaning on the cage bars. She must save Akakios.
It took all her will power, all her strength of mind, to force herself to walk. She remembered the story of the little mermaid who’d become a human princess at the pain of each of her steps being as though taken on knives. It felt to her now that every step she took on that leg was taken on knives. More, she could feel blood running down her leg to her ankle and sloshing into her shoe. She knew there was an important artery in the leg, and that she could be dead in minutes. It didn’t matter.
At some time, perhaps when she was very small, she’d heard her father tell a war story. He’d said something about when you’re in a war, you have a duty to fulfill, and it doesn’t matter if you chose your duty or not, you must do it, even if it costs you your life – and that the pain and suffering to fulfill your duty don’t matter, so long as you fulfill it.