Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

Bane nodded. “Surely so.” Yet he seemed surprised. “I came to ask thee to send Flach directly to Translucent’s isle, since I lack Mach’s facility in transport.”

“Readily done, an Neysa be granted entry.”

“She be.” Bane gave him a token, glanced across at Neysa, and waved. She nodded, and continued grazing as if not really interested.

Bane departed. Immediately Neysa approached Stile.

“Oath-friend, let us travel a bit,” Stile said, mounting her.

She was glad to accede.

“Methinks our conjecture was mistaken,” Stile said when they were far enough away from the castle to avoid any risk of being overheard. It was Stile’s belief that it was the castle the Adepts snooped on, rather than himself, now that things were quiet. “I wish not to alarm the Lady, but must know. Canst discover it for me?”

Neysa made an affirmative honk. She would certainly try! She started early, so as to have time to talk to Flach if the occasion seemed propitious. This time she bore due west, toward the West Pole and the Translucent Demesnes. Flach was quiet, seeming not enthusiastic about returning to his dam.

They had thought that Nepe had escaped, so that Flach could not communicate with her without giving away her hiding place. Now they knew this was not the case. Why, then, was he reticent? It almost seemed as if he did not want to help his grandfather, and she knew that wasn’t it. Yet she couldn’t just ask; he would have told Stile if he intended to, and had to have reason for his silence. Also, the Adepts would be watching them now, making sure the boy was delivered; they would overhear anything said.

They came to the Lattice: the great pattern of cracks in the ground. She resented the founder spell the lattice demons had hit her with the last time she was here, but she could not do much about it unless the demons came to the surface. And there was a demon head poking up! With a half-glad snort of challenge she lowered her horn and charged. The demon disappeared, hiding in the crevice, and she passed over without contact. She had expected this; still, it was satisfying.

“Slay them!” Flach cried, taking an interest. More heads appeared. She still had the worst of the Lattice to traverse; were they going to try for her? She knew that her enemies the Adverse Adepts would never allow them to cap ture her, because she was on their business; still, she pre ferred to handle this nuisance herself. She picked up speed. “Let me, Granddam!” Flach begged.

He had done well enough against the dragon, and perhaps this would make him say something. There was nothing like shared adventure to make folk talk. She made a honk of affirmation, coming to a halt on one of the Lattice plateaus. He singsonged something. Another cloud appeared, with a grotesque face; he seemed to be partial to those, or perhaps it was the shape his magic was assuming. The demons gazed up at the cloud, distrusting it, but it seemed harmless, and after a moment they resumed their closure about Neysa. Flach sang again. The cloud developed a nether aperture, from which a blob dropped.

“Get out, Granddam!” he cried.

Neysa bolted. The demons in front of her ducked down, but those at the sides closed in, trying to grab at her as she passed.

There was a sickly-sounding whoosh! Then the sound of coughing and choking from the bowels of the Lattice. Then the demons clambered out, not to attack Neysa, but to flee. What was this?

She slowed, curious about this inexplicable turnabout.

“Don’t stop, Granddam!” Flach exclaimed.

“Why?” she asked in horn talk.

“Because I dropped a stink bomb on them!” Then the spreading vapor caught up with them. Neysa choked; it was the most putrid stench she had ever whiffed—and this was just the edge of it.

She leaped forward, escaping the miasma. No wonder the demons were fleeing; it must be intense down in the crevices! Trust the child to come up with another childish—but effective!—ploy.

Well, she really could not blame him. She had given him leave, and certainly the demons deserved it. In fact, it seemed a fitting retribution for that founder spell! They readily won clear of the Lattice; the demons paid no further attention to them. She came to the regular field and forest, and resumed her normal trot.

“Thou hast become quite a little Adept,” she remarked in horn talk.

“I had time to think of good spells,” he said. “It was great, being with the Pack, but time there was.” His mood had evidently lightened.

“Be it similar with Nepe?”

“Aye. She be one clever girl.”

She hoped he would amplify, but he did not. Once again, she had been unable to discover his secret. They stopped for the night at the foot of rolling hills. Flach assumed unicorn form again, and grazed with her as before. So it went, on the long trip to the coast. Everything seemed normal with the boy, except his connection with Nepe. The secret remained undivulged. It was enough to make her horn go sour.

They reached the west coast. Flach held the token Bane had brought them, and Neysa strode into the sea. She had never been here before, and would not be very much disappointed if the charm did not work, so that they could not proceed farther. After all, this was not the neutral territory of the Red Demesnes; this was the enemy Translucent Demesnes. Also, this was where Fleta was, and Neysa wasn’t speaking to her filly. The encounter was bound to be awkward.

But the charm worked perfectly. The water closed over their heads, and seemed almost like air; they could breathe nor mally. Neysa picked her way through the seaweed and shells, and found a path. She followed this on down, and it broad ened, becoming a satisfactory trail from which obstacles had been cleared. This gave her the chance to look around as she progressed.

It was impressive. Fish swam nearby, seeming from this vantage to be flying without wings. Seaweed sprouted pro fusely, reaching for the surface, forming brushlike patches. They passed a coral reef, where the growths were intricate and flowerlike, the blooms opening and closing in the slight current.

A big fish approached, swimming with beautiful ease.

Neysa recognized its type by the fin on the back: a shark! She honked warning and readied her horn, uncertain how well she could do in this strange environment. But the fish shied away from the path; evidently it was not allowed to molest legitimate travelers.

The terrain changed, becoming somehow archaic. The veg etation and swimming forms in this region were strange. Neysa made a mild honk of surprise.

“Oh, sure,” Flach said nonchalantly. “It’s the Ordovician period, three or four hundred million years ago, I forget which, with some neat creatures. See, there be a trilobite—and there be a giant nautiloid! The one with the shell like a ‘corn’s horn!”

Neysa saw the trilobite. Its shell was indeed like a unicorn’s horn, and she liked it better for that. The shell made its tentacled forepart seem less alien.

They came to a rise in the strange realm. “This be the isle!” Flach exclaimed joyfully. He slid off her back and charged ahead, plunging through a kind of curtain in the wa-ter. Neysa followed, and found herself indeed on an isle—a dry region within a giant bubble under the sea. Flach flung herself into the arms of a young woman. That would be Fleta, his dam, Neysa’s filly; Neysa had not seen her in eight years, and really did not care to look now. Instead she gazed around the rest of the isle.

Another young woman stood there. She was in a tan cloak, and her hair and eyes were tan. Tania, sister of the new Tan Adept. What was she doing here?

Tania did not wait to be introduced. “I like thee no better than thou likest me, old mare,” she snapped. “Look not down thy nose at me, lest thou see what pleases thee not.” Neysa felt the old heat rising. She was not about to take any sneer from this arrogant woman! She brought down her horn.