Shadow of the Unicorn

by Susan Skylark

4

  A unicorn stepped out of the mist and nuzzled the murdered prince gently, a pulse of light passing from one to the other. Jace groaned and sat up, smiling gratefully at his old friend. He gained his feet, glanced sadly at the carnage Farns and his men had wrought, and then climbed into his saddle, in silent pursuit.

  The company had secreted themselves for the night in a forested dell, cloaked in mist and darkness. The apparition arrived during the darkest watch of the night, the sentries drew back in terror, too frightened to raise the alarm as something ghosted into the hidden camp, something wrought of shadow and moonlight. Jace dismounted, pausing to study the unicorn’s impressive visage, wondering if he appeared half so unearthly; the creature’s amused snort assured him that it was so. The unicorn seemed wrought of dark mist, but an eerie blue light suffused him from within, as if errant moonbeams had become forever trapped within a smoky veil. Jace studied his own person and smiled grimly, knowing this was an audience that would not be soon forgotten. The watchmen hid themselves and begged the earth to consume them utterly while their sleeping comrades slept on unawares.

  Jace approached the tent of the slumbering Farns, or what should have been the slumbering Farns, but the man sat on his cot and seemed to be waiting for the ethereal messenger. He scoffed, “come for my soul then?”

  Jace frowned, “your soul?”

  The man growled impatiently, “is that not what all you specters and phantoms are after?”

  Jace shook his head, “you alone are answerable for the fate of your own soul, sir, I am here simply as a servant of justice. Will you come willingly and face a fair trial for your actions this night, among others, or must I mete it out here and now?”

  Farns mocked, “have at me boy! The results will be the same, enough blood stains my hands that you cannot but help finding me guilty of murder and worse. Be done with it, quietly, rather than cause a public spectacle, that is, if you are capable?”

  Jace said quietly, “would you make peace with the Master?”

  The man barked a bitter laugh, “what need have I of mercy! Strike true or be gone fell specter, I will not come begging at the last, come what may!”

  Jace bowed his head, “so be it.” He reached out a tentative hand and touched it firmly to the scowling man’s chest; he vanished in a sudden flare of light. Jace inhaled sharply and took a horrified step back, his mind reeling from what he had just done. For some reason taking a life in this manner was far different than dealing out death with a sword.

  The magpie suddenly perched on Jace’s misty shoulder and said gravely, “you must remember that it is not you who are dispensing justice, but rather Me through you, whether by the sword or in this fashion, I will use you to accomplish what I must in this broken world.” Jace bowed his head solemnly as the bird vanished in a flash of light. The boy withdrew silently from the tent, returned to his saddle, and they vanished like mist in the morning, leaving the terrified minions to find their master spirited away in the dead of night. Jace rode on towards Umboria, thoughtful with the revelation of the gravity of his new occupation. It was not all adventure and crossing swords, but rather there were moments, such as last night, that were fit to break one’s heart, and suddenly he realized the sorrow the Master had borne on his behalf and that of all the world. He bowed his head in grateful thanks as he rode on.

  Umboria was a quiet land, almost too quiet. The folk went about their business, never looking too closely at one another or any passersby, speaking only when absolutely necessary. The villages and farmsteads were simple, functional, with no decoration or ostentation; the peasants were clad as simply as their habitations, with ever a look of worry or fear haunting every gaze Jace managed to catch in passing. He arrived in the capital city without incident, wondering how much Baye had accomplished in the interim. Two out of the three tyrannical lords had been accounted for, that meant only one remained; there was also the question of who was to assume the throne. Jace wondered if the current King was even fit to rule, as trampled upon as he had been by his greatest lords, who had formed a brutal triumvirate to rule through him.

  He entered the city in guise as himself, but clad as a simple traveler rather than one of the Brethren. He entered the city without challenge but was stopped at the castle gates by some rather grim looking guards, who chased him off with dire warnings not to meddle in affairs that did not concern him. He sat his saddle wondering how to enter, when his unicorn snorted and suggested the obvious solution. Grinning sheepishly, he turned down an unoccupied alley and immediately vanished from sight. The unicorn would remain in the city while Jace scouted within the castle, hoping to soon find Baye and learn what was passing in Umboria of late. He stole through the outer walls unseen, and after a brief study of the servant’s livery, reappeared wearing a perfect replica. He smiled eagerly, knowing a servant could ghost unseen about the castle almost as well as if he were invisible, and at least in this guise he could interact with those about him, rather than being an indifferent observer.

  He wandered about for some time, mapping out the castle and listening to any gossip he caught in passing. The sole surviving lord of the triumvirate had become temporary Steward of the throne, as the King was gravely ill and the Prince supposedly abroad visiting his mother’s relatives, though messengers had been dispatched to retrieve him with all haste. Jace frowned, wondering where on earth Baye had secreted himself if all thought Prince Caire was still absent. He needed to find Baye, somehow expose the treachery of the Steward, discover if the King still lived, and find someone fit to rule, if necessary. That was a tall order for one who had only been in the Kingdom half a day. Jace smiled to himself, he had done far more impossible things before.

  Another thought occurred to him, did the Lady have an Advisor to the King of Umboria? Not likely if the country was in such a state and the Lady knew nothing of it, but that was something he could discover whilst he searched for the King, if he still lived. He set off, hoping to find Baye, one of the Brethren, or the King, as he began to comb the far reaches of the castle. He decided to start at the top and work his way down, not really having an affinity for dungeons not belonging to the Brethren. He went to the northeast corner of the palace and mounted the stairs leading to the highest tower of the great castle, wondering what he would find, almost childlike in his eagerness to explore the forgotten reaches of the ancient structure. He was rather disappointed to discover that the top third of that wing of the palace was unoccupied, save by pigeons and spiders. The door leading to the highest tower was boarded up but that was no impediment to a Shadow, but his scouting little availed him.

  Jace retraced his steps and had just passed through the barred door when his eyes met those of a terrified guardsman. The man took one last look at the ghastly apparition and fled with a shriek of terror. Jace frowned, thinking the man’s reaction a little much, even if he did just see a man walk through a closed door, but then he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in a dusty mirror hanging on the adjacent wall and smiled grimly, perhaps what this castle really needed was a good haunting. He looked again at the figure in the mirror, wrought of dusky mist and bluish light, vaguely resembling a certain missing prince. But first to find the King. Jace vanished utterly from sight and resumed his exploration of the castle’s forgotten corners.

  He found neither the King nor any of his comrades, including Baye, but he did manage to scare several servants, a minor lord, and three guardsmen, always appearing when he thought himself invisible. He shook his head ruefully, knowing this was not of his own doing and content to know that this particular disaster was in hands far more capable than his own, those which had wrought the universe in fact. At last there remained nothing but the dungeons to explore, that and the stables. He had yet to meet the Steward, who was apparently out on a hunting foray, but he had seen no sign of the King, though he was supposedly somewhere abed and gravely ill. He shuddered, hoping his lordship was not so vicious as
to assign a sick man quarters in the dank and musty dungeons. But his search of such a notorious basement yielded nothing either.

  At last he withdrew to the stables, wondering where everyone was hiding, but he finally got to see the Steward, whose party had just clattered into the stableyard. A sudden flash of silver drew Jace’s attention and a slight smile grew on his unseen face. The Steward had just dismounted when a dismayed servant came rushing up to inform him that there had been several sightings of what was whispered to be the ghost of the Prince, several of the witnesses were reliable and sensible people, not prone to fancy or drink. One of the servants that had accompanied his lordship on his outing smiled thoughtfully while the Steward did his best to maintain a look of dour incredulity. He growled, “if someone dares to haunt my castle, let him make a proper introduction and we shall see what comes of the matter. These rumors are to stop here and now, am I understood?” The terror stricken servant nodded weakly but his master seemed content that the matter had been rectified then and there.

  His lordship turned back to his hunting party and snarled, “what are you standing about gawking at? See to the horses and then attend to your usual duties. Go!” His bellow set the horses to snorting and stamping uneasily, but it propelled the servants, guardsmen, and minor lords that had accompanied him into action. The slightly grinning servant, who had drawn Jace’s attention, was the first to lead his and two other beasts back to the stables where he busied himself with settling his charges.

  As he bent down to clean out a particularly muddy hoof, he felt a presence suddenly beside him in the crowded stall. Said Jace with a grin, ducking behind the stall’s partition out of casual sight, “how long have you desired to be a groom? I think you’d make a fine stable boy.”

  Baye smiled in amusement, “about as long as you’ve been interested in impersonating the ghost of someone who yet draws breath.”

  “Not so,” said Jace in impish delight, “I hear tell that Prince Caire was brutally struck down upon the north road by one Lord Farns, alongside the third traitorous lord.”

  Baye shook his head, his smile broad enough to split it asunder, “nay lad, when are you going to learn? The reigning Steward had the unfortunate Prince murdered secretly the very night he returned to Umboria.”

  Jace sobered, “what of the King?”

  Baye said gravely, “he was said to be ill and abed the day I arrived, I have not heard or seen anything of him since. What of Lord Farns?”

  Jace shivered, “justice has been satisfied, only the Steward remains of the original threesome.”

  Baye said thoughtfully, “so it only remains to prove the Steward a traitor and find someone fit to sit upon the throne.” He smiled slightly, “I think I know just the man, but how to expose our dear Steward for the murderer and traitor he truly is?”

  Jace smiled grimly, “leave that to me.” Baye flinched in surprise at the ghostly figure with him in the stall; thankfully the horse was too busy attending to his grain to notice.

  Baye said eagerly, “that might just do the trick.” Jace gave him a roguish grin and vanished from sight.

  The Steward was sitting at table, presiding over a sullen and anxious court that night, for none could dismiss this apparent haunting as easily as their current master, nor did they find his lack of faith reassuring. But when the specter walked in and brazenly sat in the empty seat beside his lordship, the one reserved for the vanished Prince, he could not help but take notice. He stared at the phantom and it stared back at him, a look of casual indifference on its face. Stuttered he at last, every eye fixed upon the uncanny pair, “what is it you want?”

  The apparition yawned widely and said lazily, “the usual.”

  The Steward gasped, “my soul?”

  The ghost appeared rather miffed, “why does everyone keep saying that? Do not be ridiculous, I want justice of course.”

  “Justice?” snarled the Steward, fury overcoming his fear, “justice for what?”

  Yawned the specter, “you know very well for what. Now just admit to all and sundry here your part in things or I shall prove quite a bother to the peace and quiet of this rather charming heap of rocks. I will make such a nuisance of myself that eventually you will be the sole remaining occupant of this place. Well?”

  “All right!” roared the irate lord, “I admit it, I admit everything! I arranged for the murder of the King and had the Prince killed when he returned unexpectedly from his visit abroad. I and two others have been using the King as a puppet for many a year, ruling through him and intended to do the same with the heir. Need I admit more or will that suffice?” He glared at the insolent phantasm, which grinned in satisfaction.

  Said Jace, “I think that is a fair start, the rest will no doubt come out at your trial.”

  “I will not be put on trial by these mindless sheep for their own amusement!” seethed the furious Steward, “if justice is to be satisfied, let it be by my own hand!”

  “No!” cried Jace, but it was too late, the man had drawn a dagger from some hidden sheath and drove it suddenly into his own heart. He slumped in his chair and so perished the last of the traitorous trio.

  In the sudden chaos, the ghost vanished, never more to be seen in that country while one of the Brethren propitiously appeared. Baye stood forth to calm the aggrieved and stunned crowd, assuring them that order and justice would be restored forthwith to that long oppressed realm. An aging but hardy minor lord had caught Baye’s eye as a potential replacement, if things were as they feared in regards to the King. He readily agreed to assume the Stewardship and was heartily accepted by one and all as the true and proper King a few months later. Caire was grieved to hear of his father’s demise but heartened to know that Umboria was at last free of the influence of the usurping lords while their sons and minions were properly cowed after the mysterious and sudden downfall of the triumvirate, readily accepting the new King in its stead.

  Jace met Baye on the edge of the city as he made an appropriately quiet exit into the sunset, now that matters seemed well and truly settled. Said the former specter, “thus ends my first solo adventure.” He smiled roguishly, “and it was a right and proper fairy tale, complete with uncanny characters and the hero riding silently off in search of his next tale.”

  Baye shook his head in mock dismay, but he could not hide his amused grin, “when will you kids ever learn that life is not a fairy tale nor our adventures the stuff of legend?”

  Jace laughed outright, “come now, look who is saying what!”

  Baye chuckled, “I suppose I am the last person who should be saying such a thing.” He smiled ruefully, “if the adventures of our comrades are legend enough, the exploits of the Shadow must be thought nearly mythic.” He shook his head, “not that anyone is ever likely to hear of them, save perhaps ourselves and the Lady of Astoria.”

  Jace frowned, “who wrote the books then?”

  Baye shook his head, “I once asked Jared that, he said they were old when he first saw them and that was well over a thousand years ago, in the very morning of the world.”

  Jace’s brow furrowed in consternation, “how could that be possible?”

  Baye said thoughtfully, “we can summon a thing from a distance, why could the Master not summon something from the future and bring it into the past? For when Jared was Called, the Shadow had not yet been launched, so how could there be legends to recount?”

  Jace said in wonder, “so some of those stories likely have not happened yet?”

  Baye laughed, “oh, they have happened, at least in the Master’s perception though certainly not in ours. For we see Time as a line that runs off straight into the future or back into the past, our current position upon it, what we call the present, a single point of many that have been or are yet to come, all merging together to form an unbreakable line. But the Master sees all that has been and will ever be all at the same time, perhaps as a sphere, rather than as a line as we mortals assume
it to be. To Him, the past, the present, and the future are all happening at once!”

  Jace shook his head, overwhelmed at this startling revelation of the physics, or rather, metaphysics, of time and space and reality. Baye smiled in understanding, “this is all a theory of course, mortal mind certainly cannot wrap itself fully around such a concept nor our meager words give it satisfactory expression.”

  Jace smiled eagerly, “it shall be interesting to watch the story unfold and then view it in full from the other side of eternity.”

  Baye nodded his hearty agreement, “that it will lad, that it will.” He suddenly drew up alongside Jace and placed a firm hand on the unicorn’s shoulder, said he with a smile, “but first, I think you have a few more plots to fulfill and characters to meet.” The pair vanished in a flash of light and Baye continued on his way.