Piers Anthony: Unicorn Point

“But we can merge the frames not, with the Flute here and the Player there,” Tania said.

“Methinks Stile could,” Neysa said firmly. “An he be ensorceled, thou must do it instead.”

“I be no Adept!” Fleta protested. “I be but a mare in want o’ her colt, sore beset!”

“Thou dost be more than that,” Neysa said. “The frames be already one, an we but perceive it. Since the separation, the parallelism be more, mayhap lacking other way to abate the imbalances caused by the acts o’ people. Once there were two Lady Blues, one in each frame, but when the one in Proton died, the other could cross and fill her place. Now with no crossing, the void be filled by another, and that be the Lady Sheen. All the Adepts and most o’ the others be parallel, or growing so. The events too: what occurs in one frame, occurs in the other, if not exact, then close. Each contest was won by the same side; it could be not otherwise. Now what thou dost here, thine other self be doing there. If thou canst prevail here, so will it be there, and the way will open. What thou achievest be known in Proton, though there be no seeming contact between thee and the alien. All that thou canst accomplish be double weight. That be the remain der o’ the Point.”

Fleta knew it was true. She was awed by the realization; the evidences of the parallelism had been there all along, but she had never appreciated them this way. She had to succeed! “But an somehow the frames be merged—what o’ the folk?” Fleta asked. “Willst become just one set o’ folk for both?”

“Aye.”

“But I—“

“Will merge with Agape, methinks. And all others, as their pairs exist. It be a monstrous notion.”

“A monstrous notion!” Fleta echoed, intrigued and appalled. She liked Agape, but how could she be merged with her? What then of Mach and Bane—and Tania? Of their triangle?

That was all Neysa would say. Neysa had never been much for words, and once she had made her point—her Unicorn Point—she was done. She was old, and they did not want her to risk the rigors of their mission (or to be slowed down by her: that was unsaid), so they left her at the Herd, pondering her insight. The Unicorn Point—what mixed promise and mischief lay there!

Another day’s travel brought them to the spot at which the flute-amulet pointed—and there was nothing there. It was on the slope of the Purple Mountains, in the Elven Demesnes, with nothing but silvery flowers growing. They paused, baf fled. First the mystery of the Unicorn Point, then this! It was Alien who figured it out. “The Flute be under ground! The little folk keep it not up in plain sight, and their warrens go ne’er direct. We must find the entrance!”

They quested about, and in due course discovered an elven^ entrance. Fleta assumed woman form, removed her amulet, and handed it to Tania. “Mayhap this will protect thee aught. I must broach them now. Al and I will do it, while thou dost hide, in case.”

“In case what?” the bat boy asked.

“Elves be not always friendly.”

He nodded, sobering. Then Fleta knocked at the portal, alerting the elves. ‘

A man appeared. He was about the height of Alien, but considerably stouter. His clothing was the color of platinum, and his skin light blue. “Well, two prisoners!” he exclaimed, drawing his sword. “A fair damsel and a servant boy.”

“Nay!” Fleta cried. “We be ‘corn and bat, on a mission o’ surpassing import!”

“Not any more,” the elf said grimly.

Fleta didn’t want to have to fight him, but she could not let herself be considered a prisoner. She would have to change to unicorn form, which would be competent to deal with the sword.

Then the elf man turned, startled. His eyes glazed. “Oh, aye,” he said. “These be emissaries.”

Tania had stepped in. Out of contact with her, Fleta could neither see nor hear her other than dimly; the dwindling power of the amulet was more effective with only one person to cover. Evidently she had touched the elf, and used her Eye to fascinate him. Now, in effect, he was their prisoner. The elf led them into the passage in the hill. Wan light struggled down so that it was not completely dark, but it remained uncomfortably close. She would not be able to as sume unicorn form here; she would be jammed into the walls. At least Al would be able to move; as a bat he could readily handle this region.

They came to a chamber wherein sat an extremely wizened elf, obviously a leader. He wasted no time in amenities. “Thy magic be that o’ the Adverse Adepts. Know, 0 intruders, that we be overtly neutral, but privately we favor Stile and will help thy side not.”

Fleta smiled, relieved. “Canst thou be Pyreforge, friend to my foal’s grandsire? I be Fleta, and this be Alien, son o’—“

“And thou be helping the wrong side!” he snapped. “Be glad I grant thee the courtesy o’ truce, else—“

“Nay, we changed sides,” she cried. “Now Mach and I be with Stile, only my foal be captive, and there be enchant ment on Blue and Red and Bane, and we alone be free to seek-“

“How can I know that? That Evil Eye—“

“Tania changed too! She be aiding Stile now!”

Pyreforge stared at her. “An thou canst convince me o’ that, with her Eye hooded, mayhap my aid be thine.” It took time, but in due course the old elf was satisfied. He turned over the invaluable Platinum Flute. It was in pieces, in a box, but could be readily assembled at need. “But we know not how to use it,” Fleta said. “The amulet guided us here to it, and. my dam says we must merge the frames, but—”

“Let me research in my references.”

More time passed. The elves gave them bread and water while they waited, treating them with courtesy now that their loyalty to Stile was known. Tania had to give up the fading amulet of privacy and become fully apparent. “Ah, now I see!” the elf exclaimed as he saw her clearly. “Thou hast the stigmata o’ love for Bane! That be why thou didst change sides!”

Tania was taken aback. “Shows it thus?”

“Ordinarily, nay. But thy whole nature has changed, and that be evident. But an the frames merge, what o’ thee?”

“0’ me?”

“Thou dost love the man o’ this frame, who be not with Fleta. Thine other self loves the rovot, who be not with the alien. But—”

“The alien!” Al exclaimed. “My namesake!”

“Aye,” Fleta said. “When she and I exchanged, and she were in Phaze, she helped thy parents get together, so they named thee after her. Likewise there be a child in Proton frame, Mach tells me, named ‘Corn, though me thinks I con tributed not to that.”

“Mine other self!” Al said, pleased.

“As I were saying,” Pyreforge continued gruffly, “An the frames merge, so will thy two selves—and there will be one man with one woman. Bane will have the alien, and Fleta will have Mach, all together in one, and none be open for thee. So what o’ thee?”

Tania looked crestfallen. “I know not,” she said faintly.

This was the matter that Fleta had not been able to raise. It was the separation of Mach and Bane that made compromise possible; without that separation, and the two distinct frames, there would be no free man, or free aspect of him. “Then canst thou labor to merge the frames, an it be pos sible?”

Tania considered. “I sought to vamp Bane, to win him o’er to our side—1 mean the Adverse Adepts—and make a fitting mate for me. I wanted to marry below my station not. But the ploy turned, and he won me to his side, which now be Stile’s, and made o’ me his creature though ne’er did he touch me. Now must I do what he would have me do, and I would save him though I lose him. I can explain it not else.”