Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

They completed the unicorns, finding them innocent of concealing the boy, as expected. Now most of a year was gone. The trio had settled into a kind of camaraderie of familiarity, and Tania discovered that she was even getting to like Fleta. The mare was reliable and forthright, and had a cheery sense of humor that often brightened things. In the first weeks she had been subdued because of her loss of her son and her dislike of Tania, but as she gradually became acclimatized to the situation her natural nature came to the fore. She was no dumb animal; her mind was bright and inquisitive, and she loved a challenge just as Tania did. She was a fan of the Proton Game, and longed to return there and play again, but knew she could not. During their off hours she taught Tania the fundamentals and ways of the Game, making it interesting. They played little mock games, making grids on the ground, leading to short foot races or mumbledy peg or riddle-questions, and the time passed pleasantly. Tania no longer wondered why the Proton rovot had come to love her; she was a loveable creature.

They discussed the matter of the search, and decided to check the vampire bats next. It was Fleta who had suddenly come up with it: “Mayhap he became not a bird, but a bat! Midst the vamps could he fly and be himself, and learn but one new form!”

“Aye!” Tania exclaimed, joyed by this revelation. In her excitement she forgot herself so far as to hug Fleta, then was embarrassed. It was not that she detested the touch of an animal, for she did not; it was that she should never have let her real emotion show so obviously.

But later, reconsidering, she had another thought: Fleta had accepted the hug. There had been a time when the ‘corn would have reacted by changing form and stabbing violently with her deadly horn. Instead she had hugged back—and then been as embarrassed as Tania. Tania’s developing appreciation of Fleta had after all been returned. A few days later, between Flocks, at a time when they were apart from Bane, Tania braced her on it. “Methinks despite our best intent, we be becoming friends,” she said.

“I know thy nature!” Fleta flared. “What a fool I be, e’er to be friends to thee!” But then, after a pause, while Tania waited: “Aye.” For among her other good qualities was honesty.

“I thought thee but an animal, but I have come to appreciate thy ways.”

“I hated thee and all thy kind,” the mare returned. “But lately thou hast changed, or seemed to. Softer, more generous, seeking no longer to hurt those who ne’er hurt thee.”

“Thou knowest why.”

“Aye.”

They pursued it no further. Tania had fallen in love with Bane, and it had caused her to do what he liked, and that had changed her. But she could realize that love only at the expense of Agape, the alien female, and that Fleta could not abide. In fact, Agape had formidable friends in Phaze, for her tour here had put her into close contact with a number of folk. It was said that she had facilitated the union of the Red Adept and Suchevane, the beautiful vampiress, and that their son was named after her. Al, for Alien: a compliment, not an insult. No, Tania’s love of Bane was incompatible with her friendship with Fleta—yet both existed. So long as that love remained unfulfilled.

The vampires too turned out to be clean. The boy—or more likely the Adept Stile—had outsmarted them completely, utilizing a hiding place they could not guess. So they proceeded methodically through the various species of Phaze, knowing that Flach could have assumed any form and joined any tribe. The trolls, the ogres, the elves, the goblins, even the assorted tribes of demons: all had to be verified, no matter whose allies they called themselves. Years passed. Tania’s love for Bane, receiving tolerance but no acknowledgment, burned ever more fiercely. She had always been highly possessive and destructive, but this condition so transformed her that she was neither. She was satisfied just to be with him, and to act the way she believed he liked. This meant no more deliberate exposures of her body, for not only did that brand her in his mind as a slut, his experience in Proton inured him to the sight of female flesh. She no longer tried to join him as he slept; it was similarly counter productive. Oh, he liked the sight and feel of what she offered, but the fact of the offering generated more repulsion in him than attraction. She had made herself, at the beginning, an animal to him: a creature to be used rather than loved, and the uses were limited. So she labored constantly to be his ideal of a woman, and it was a challenge that be came increasingly easy. The most alarming thing about it was that she liked herself better, too.

Somewhere along the way, she realized that she had been had: Bane had used magic to make himself immune to her charms. Probably the Rovot Adept had fashioned a superior spell for his other self. So her case was lost, and had been almost from the outset. Why hadn’t she caught on long before this? Because she hadn’t wanted to. She had become a fool for love.

As it seemed that the search would never end, it did. They were checking the werewolves, and suddenly realized that the boy could have doubled back to join the Pack he had passed on his route with Neysa, having scouted it on the way. They verified the number of pups who had come to that Pack that year, from other Packs. They knew from their preliminary survey how many pups remained there, and after allowing for deaths in transit and since, they found the count skew by one. There was one more wolf in Kurrelgyre’s Pack than there should be. That one, they were sure, would prove to be Flach, now four years older than he had been.

They paused to take stock. Mach happened to be with them at this time, which meant that the verification would be prompt. “I believe this is it,” he said. “Our son will be ours again.”

“Aye,” Fleta agreed, evincing mixed emotions. “But after four years, ‘mongst the wolves, how will he be?”

“A fighting creature,” he said. “And a canny one. Even at four, he and Nepe fooled us completely. We are liable to have a handful.”

“An he wanted to help the Adepts, he would have hidden not,” she said. “Be we right to force him?”

“That notion has bothered me,” Mach admitted. “So long as we could not find him, the matter was moot. Now that we are about to, we have a decision to make. Do we really want to take him in?”

Fleta did not answer. It was obvious that her emotions were warring: she loved her son, and did not love the cause of the Adverse Adepts, yet was bound to serve it. Mach turned to Tania. “Thee?”

Tania tried to keep her face straight, but such a shock went through her that she could not; her eyes overflowed, and she too was unable to speak.

“What game is this?” Mach asked, annoyed.

Now Fleta found her voice. “Tease her not, my love; it be not kind.”

“What arc you talking about?” he demanded. “I asked a simple question.”

“Thou didst bespeak her in our tongue.”

“Why, so I did; it is of no consequence, and easy to do here. What is your point?”

“She loves Bane.”

His brow furrowed. Like most males, he was singulariy dense about certain things. “So?”

“Therefore she loves thy likeness, e’en as I love Bane’s likeness.”

Still he did not get it. “Bane and I have kept in touch. I gave him a spell to make him immune from her blandishments, having been warned by her other selfs behavior in Proton. If she fell into her own trap, she has only herself to blame.”

“Mayhap. But ill it behooves thee to tease her about it.”

“What are you talking about? I have left her strictly alone! This has always been purely business, and remains so. I asked her for her opinion about recovering our son.”