There is talk in some learned circles in our major cities about whether or not satyrs, centaurs, griffins and certain other fantastic beasts really exist, or are only the product of the popular imagination. As a wizard, 1, of course, tend to side with the satyrs, centaurs and griffins, especially when these beasts begin to doubt the existence of any learned circles in our major cities.
—THE TEACHINGS OF EBENEZUM,
VOLUME XXXVI
The unicorn ran in our direction.
I forgot to walk. All I could do was stare.
“Doo—oof!” Hendrek exclaimed loudly as he walked into my overloaded pack. He began a loud and complicated curse.
I placed a hand upon his shoulder to quiet him, and pointed at the approaching beast. Hendrek’s complaints stopped midsentence as his mouth opened, unable to form further words. All of his attention, and mine as well, was drawn to the newcomer.
How do I describe that creature? Its golden hooves would stamp upon any words I might use, grinding them to inconsequential dust. Still, what can humans do but try?
Imagine a horse, if you will, a horse of pure white, its color that of the snow as it falls fresh from the clouds, before it is sullied by the common air. It is a swift horse, in its prime, lean but powerful. Its muscles ripple beneath its coat as it leaps through the stillness, and, when its hooves touch ground, the earth shakes with its passing.
Ah, but this creature is more than a mere horse, for atop its white head, before its wildly cascading mane, is a golden horn as long as my arm. The horn is not quite straight, and yet not truly curved, as if neither the line nor the circle were special enough to give it form. And it rises above the creature’s head as if it were reaching for the sun.
I spoke of the sun. It had, in fact, appeared before us. We had come to a clearing. The close trees that we had toiled through for the past few days spread apart to reveal a good-sized meadow filled with flowers and long, deep green grass. Patches of light shone upon this field through broken clouds, as if the sun had sewn a quilted pattern upon the earth.
How I had complained about the dank and dreary forest we had labored through for so long! How dearly I had longed to see true sunlight! But now, I only noticed the sun because it reflected off the back of the approaching beast. And the white of the unicorn’s coat seemed as bright as the sun itself.
Somehow, it was only proper. If we were to see the sun for the first time after so many days, it should be at a wonderful moment such as this. How else could we do honor to such a regal beast?
The unicorn reared up before us. It was even more astonishing to look at close at hand, the very heart of magic brought to life. It stood but a dozen paces away, magnificent, the essence of peace and bearing, contentment and beauty. Except that there was something about the way the creature blinked its large and soulful eyes.
“How could they!” the splendid creature exclaimed.
Ebenezum blew his nose. He moved a few steps to the left, careful, I was sure, to remain upwind of the magnificent beast.
“Indeed,” the wizard remarked quietly. “How could they what?”
The unicorn eyed us warily, then glanced rapidly back over its grandly beautiful shoulder. “Well, I barely know where to begin. There I was, minding my unicorn business, when they attacked me!”
The perfect beast snorted in dismay.
“Pray continue.” The wizard pulled reflectively upon his long beard. “You were attacked? By demons?”
“No, no!” the unicorn cried. “Far worse than that! Mere demons I would have gored and tossed aside! But to be attacked by such as these!” A tremor passed through the beast’s stately frame.
“What they did! I can barely speak about it even now. They tied my golden hooves, these hooves meant to run free over the green and verdant sward! They covered my golden horn, the center of my beauty and my defense against injustice! They bound it round with common pillows, saying, ‘We don’t want any accidental stabbings, ha ha.’ Pillows about my magnificent golden horn! And, and—” The unicorn paused, swallowing deep within its splendid throat. Its voice lowered to a whisper. “And they mussed my stately, flowing mane!”
“Indeed?” my master replied.
“My flowing mane!” The unicorn nodded its head vehemently. “Can you imagine, handled roughly like that? They have no respect for my species at all. And not a virgin among them, either! Well, you know, that’s not at all surprising in this part of the forest, but still...”
The unicorn snorted mightily. It appeared too overwhelmed to go on.
A large shadow passed over our heads.
The unicorn screamed.
“ ‘Tis them!” the stately beast cried. “They have found me!” The unicorn glanced nervously aloft. “You weren’t listening, were you? I’m distraught! I didn’t know what I was saying! I didn’t mean what I said about virgins! Honestly!”
The shadow was gone.
“Indeed.” My master spoke in his most reassuring tone, honed to a fine art through years of use placating rich clients and distracting tax collectors. “Whoever they were, they seem to be gone now. If you are in distress, perhaps we can help you. Tell me, is there any money involved?”
“What use have magical creatures for money?” The unicorn tossed its perfectly formed head to and fro in despair. “How could I ever expect mere humans to understand?”
“Okay. It’s time for an expert.” The Brownie stepped forward. “Enchanted creature to enchanted creature, we will learn the truth. And I won’t even count it as a wish. That’s Brownie Power for you!”
“No, no, I’ve said far too much already!” The unicorn shied away from its small interrogator.
The Brownie stepped even closer, undaunted by the splendid beast’s greater size. “All right!” the small fellow said. “Let’s get to the heart of the matter. What’s all this guff about virgins?”
“What?” The unicorn shook its head. “Why, it’s just something unicorns do. It’s expected of us, you know, like Brownies making shoes.”
“And we’re going to change all that!” the Brownie cried. “Brownies do it better!” The little person cleared his throat. “Pardon. Just hit a sore spot there.” He shot an accusatory look back at Snarks, still hidden deep within voluminous robes. “I’ve always been interested in this. Do unicorns really seek out virgins?”
“Actually, no,” the snow-white beast replied. “I’ve always thought the unicorn’s essential task was to frolic through distant fields while looking ethereally beautiful. Virgins are really a sideline. But we know one when we see one. There’s one here, in fact.”
All around me there was an intake of breath.
“Yes. Somebody’s a virgin. I can always tell, you know. It’s something we unicorns are very good at.” The beast tossed its head jauntily. “Of course, we unicorns are good at so many things!’’
“Wait a second,” I interjected, somewhat unsettled by this line of conversation. “Don’t virgins have to be female?”
“A popular misconception. No, a virgin is a virgin, male or female, and I scent one nearby.” The unicorn looked from Hendrek to me and back again.
“Doom,” the large warrior intoned.
The creature’s scrutiny was very discomforting. Just what was this overmuscled animal implying? Snarks made a low, snickering noise deep within his hood.
“Well.” The wizard once again stepped forward, his robes discreetly covering his nose. “I’m sure this is all very interesting, but could you tell us exactly who you are running from?”
“Running?” The unicorn stamped its golden hooves upon the earth. “Unicorns run from no one! Well, that’s not quite true. Let’s just say the intelligent unicorn knows who to avoid.” The beast glanced nervously overhead.
The wizard blew his nose. “And who, indeed, might that be?”
The unicorn lowered its gaze from the sky. “I have said far too much already.” It turned its head slightly to look at all of us, then pointed briefly with its horn. “Just don’t go that way.”
The beast’s horn pointed toward Vushta.
“I have said all that I can. May you be blessed with a unicorn’s luck.” The mighty beast reared up, then galloped into the dark forest from which we had come.
“A unicorn’s blessing!” Snarks had removed his hood. “If what that fancy horse has been through is unicorn luck, it should be as much use to us as three Brownie wishes!”
The demon rapidly replaced his hood as the Brownie approached.
“Doom,” Hendrek intoned. “Dare we go farther, to face whatever dread thing yon beast has escaped?”
“We must,” the wizard insisted. “Put your club away, would you? That’s a good fellow. In this instance, I believe friend Snarks has made a valid point. Information, the wise man knows, is only as good as its source. A source whose main concern is how much its mane has been mussed is hardly any source at all.”
“Whatever happens,” a small voice piped, “you have a Brownie at your side!”
“Indeed. And I am sure we will be properly grateful when the time comes.”
“But what of Norei’s warning?” I asked. “Could the unicorn have seen something?”
“Would that I knew, Wuntvor.” The wizard stared up at a sky filled with skittering clouds, hoping, perhaps, to see what had frightened the unicorn so. “If this were a perfect world, I might take some time and study this matter, using the full body of my learning and experience to reach a learned, truly wizardly decision. Unfortunately, this world appears to be getting less perfect every day. Things are happening much too fast to depend upon wizardly conjecture.”
My master tugged his robes into more aesthetically pleasing lines. “We must rely, therefore, entirely on wizardly intuition! Wuntvor, shoulder your pack! On to Vushta!”
So saying, Ebenezum led us across the clearing to another stretch of nearly impenetrable forest. I paused for an instant, savoring a last glimpse of golden sunlight before we were once again surrounded by great, dark trees.
Far behind us, I heard the unicorn scream.
“I have an idea what you can use for your first wish.”
I jumped at the sound of the Brownie’s voice.
“Sorry!” the small voice piped. “I do tend to be enthusiastic. Part of my overall Positive Brownie Image, you know.”
I looked back in the direction of the unicorn’s cry, but the trees blocked my view.
“Can you wish us out of here?” I asked.
“Sorry. We just tried that, bringing your friends here.” The Brownie frowned and shook his head. “Puts too much strain on the magic muscles.”
The Brownie paused. I realized belatedly that he was expecting me to keep up my end of the conversation. I was too busy listening for the unicorn, or whatever the unicorn had seen.
“What wish did you have in mind?” I asked at last.
“That’s more like it!” the Brownie replied. “You have to get in the spirit of this three wishes thing, you know. My job is to make the wishes happen! I don’t have time to think them up as well!”
I nodded. The Brownie certainly had a point. Somehow, though, things had been too busy lately for me to think about wishing for anything.
“I know, I know,” the Brownie went on. “My performance up to now has not been exemplary. That’s why I feel I have to push the wishes bit a little. Remember the Brownie Creed: It’s not magic—it’s Brownie Power!”
The Brownie continued in a whisper. “I have been observing your master. A sad case, a great wizard like that, unable to perform magic because of a malady of the nose. See? We Brownies notice things like that! And this Brownie knows a cure!”
I turned to look at the small fellow. A cure? Hope rose within me like the sun lighting a summer dawn. If Ebenezum could regain his powers, we would reach Vushta in no time at all!
“I know it will work.” The small one’s voice became softer still. “It has to do with shoes.”
My hope plummeted like a winter storm. This was the Brownie who had trouble remembering people’s names, let alone the messages they had given him. Maybe Snarks was right about him after all.
The little fellow glanced somewhat apprehensively at the demon, who was walking now at Hendrek’s side. It was almost as if the Brownie had read my mind.
“Some may laugh at me,” he continued in a whisper, “but always start with what you know best. That’s what His Brownieship says.”
His Brownieship? I decided not to ask.
“Anyways, I can make a shoe big enough to protect your master from magical influences.” The Brownie paused and tapped his tiny foot. “I can see that you’re skeptical. Well, just wait ‘til you see it! Hands-on experience, that’s what we need here. I just have to have a little while to get my notes together, and, next time we have a crisis, one Brownie shoe special will do the trick!”
My master began to sneeze.
“Doom!” Hendrek bellowed, looking in the trees overhead.
“It’s time for the shoe!” I cried to the Brownie, but my voice was drowned out by the beating of gigantic wings.