Synopsis: Picking up where "Traps" left off, Gelding and Amy are now faced with a strange new fae that is wreaking havoc in Amy's castle. Meanwhile, the Siren Tamryn (met in "Melancholy & Magic") is depressed and Gelding is at a loss on how to help her.
1
The Unicorn spent a night guarding the mouth of a tavern,
casting his light into the darkness. He had lost words hours ago, for nothing
consoled the sobbing creature within. For once in his long life, the Unicorn
found himself disadvantaged by knowing another immortal. A mortal maiden would
have ceased her weeping when she laid eyes on the magnificent Unicorn. But the
weeping siren was not a mortal maiden, despite the sounds of such mortal pain.
He had made the mistake of asking her, “Must you pick off
the castle workers? You should hunt mortals elsewhere. The Princess’ handmaids
are disappearing like rabbits.”
It seemed that now the Siren was convinced the Unicorn
loathed her, though he assured her this was not true. Once those first tears
fell, the following could not be stopped. Hours and hours of rocking and
sobbing, weeping and clawing the earth, crying and gasping for air, unfolded
before the Unicorn. He found no way to console her as he would anyone else. All attempts sank into her endless sea of
sorrow.
“Friend,” he spoke again, daring to interrupt the silence
between them “does the sea of sadness have a bottom? How may I help you?”
“You cannot, friend,” she sighed.
The Unicorn went forward into the dampening cavern. The
Siren was wrapped in her own black wings, fresh cuts across her body where she
had clawed.
“I dine on those whom you protect. Especially the pure. You
should vanquish me…Why have you not yet?”
“I cannot hate you for being what you are. Do not touch that
which I hold as my own and we shall never have to fight,” he assured her.
“Where does this hate for yourself spring from, Siren?”
“I killed that which I loved the most, Unicorn…”
The tattered creature’s mouth opened, fangs shining with fresh
blood. Her own clawed hand placed in her jaw. The Unicorn stomped a hoof.
“Stop that! It helps nothing and gives you more to heal. Are
you not wounded enough?”
“Before she could respond, both demon and beast were stirred
by the blare of a horn.
“It sounds as though the humans need me. I must return to
them, my friend. But, Siren, remember my words tonight. Happy ending depends
upon where you have chosen to cut off your tale. Think on this. Stay with me…”
He bowed his head as though he would touch her with his
horn.
“Goodbye…” she called
after him. “Thank you, Unicorn…”
2
“Unicorn!” the human king’s Captain of the Guard roared at
the white creature as it arrived. “Where were you?”
“I was needed elsewhere. I do have a life outside of your
princess, if you can believe that.”
“While you were out cavorting with chipmunks, we had a
crisis!”
In a cage beside the captain an odd creature of green color
was hanging about the bars. The Unicorn had never seen its likeness before.
“What is this leafy, sprightly thing?”
“We were hoping you would tell us.”
The sprightly thing stuck its tongue out at him, much like a
human child. This also bore a resemblance the Fairy Royals’ Sprites.
“I have a vague idea of its kind. But I do not think it is
quite the same. I have never seen this creature exactly. It looks to be a kind
of fae, though.”
“I thought you predated the Garden of Eden,” the Captain
grunted.
The Unicorn was not humored by ignorant statements, so he
went to work circling the cage and examining the creature closer. Its black,
orb-like eyes shined at him. “What did it do to cause trouble?”
“What they are
doing is turning the castle upside down. Freed the Princess’ pets. Attacked the
barn animals, and now they are attacking us.”
The Unicorn looked about and saw that there was disorder,
the embers of a fire being put out. Servants were fanning out burned blankets
and cleaning messes that had been tossed from windows. But he saw none of these
creatures.
“Where are they?”
“They have burrowed underground!”
The sun happened to be rising on the horizon and the
creature imprisoned in the cage shrieked. Both the Unicorn and the man stared
in awe as the poor sprightly thing went into flames. The Unicorn’s ears pinned back in thought.
“Isn’t that the darndest thing, Captain?”
“Where are the others?” the Captain clamored. “Drag them
into the sun!”
“Quick-witted of you,” the Unicorn complimented. “I am
impressed.”
“Quiet, beast!”
“But you seem to miss the point. That is why they have
hidden. Without the shadows, they are rendered too weak to stand the sun.”
“Unicorn!” the Princess Amy’s voice interrupted the
discussion. The Unicorn turned to receive the maiden’s hug. One of her arms was
in a sling from a recent accident but she still managed to embrace him with her
good arm. “I worried where you were.”
“Your anger would be deserved, Amy. I was not here to
protect you…” The Unicorn hung his head.
The Captain gestured as though he were nauseous of the
scene. “That is all fine and well, but now find the remainder of the monsters
and snuff them out, Unicorn.”
“I am not a monster compass,” the Unicorn retorted. “Show
them to me and I shall but I shall need aid in finding them.”
The Princess loosed her hand around the Unicorn and offered,
“I saw one dig into the ground. Whilst on my balcony, looking down.”
“Show me.”
3
The Princess led the Unicorn to her garden. Though she bit
her lip and hemmed and hawed at the prospect she proposed they dig at the
ground where the gremlin had nested under the earth. There was a miniscule
hole, hardly visible.
“Just how small are these things?”
“The size of the very thing the Captain had in that cage.”
“This looks the size of a bug’s hole.”
“Oh, but they must block up the hole after tunneling down.”
Though he would not show his wonder, again, for a third time
in a few hours he was surprised. Now at the this gremlin’s digging skill,
earlier at the Captain’s wit working and earlier still at his friend the
Siren’s endless sorrow.
He pawed in the very spot Amy had shown him, digging with
impressive speed. But though he had the strength and patience to do it, he
feared he would not work speedily enough. “Shall we call in the dogs?” he
asked.
“Yes, though only the hunting hounds will dare dig and they
have been trained to leave the garden alone!” Amy warned. “I believe it will
confuse them.”
“I shall have a word with them, then.”
When the hounds were brought before the Unicorn, his own fur
bristled at the sight. One or two of the dogs, now quite aged, were among the
pack that had attacked him when Amy was a young girl. He stomped a hoof to
indicate his dominance to them. Then in the language of Beasts, he commanded.
“Here, hounds, dig this hole deep. For there are monsters beneath which we must
exterminate. I know you quite capable, as I have seen you turn paw and teeth
against helpless rabbits and foxes. Do this and we shall no longer quarrel.”
“Your eyes are so hateful to my father and mother,” spoke
one of the youngest dogs. “I fear you, white creature, with your long horn, all
glowing and good for poking. I do not trust the hooved one!”
“Calm yourself, hound. I have no animosity towards you and I
shall bury any leftover ambivalence towards your parents on this day. Now will you help to keep the Princess and
the castle safe?”
“Oh, please listen to him,” Amy begged the dog.
It was a known fact that Amy could sometimes hear the
Language of Beasts, a quaint gift she seemed to possess. Rumor among the castle
was that the Unicorn had blessed her with this gift, but the truth was simpler.
Amy had been born this way, and good fortune found her that she should meet a
Unicorn and the strange and fantastic became believable in his presence.
The youngest dog, alpha of the group, at last gave his
submission to the magical beast and the Princess and went to digging at the
gremlin’s nest. Of course, a dog could do burrowing better than a Unicorn,
being a carnivorous creature. It came to
be that only his fluffy tail wagged at the surface when he caught a bite of
something.
“Do bring it to us to see,” Amy called down.
The dog obeyed, all tail wags and a big grin. Snapped
between his jaw was what appeared to be a green potato. Amy’s dark eyes shone
in amazement. “Oh my. ‘tis almost pretty!”
The dog set it down and cocked his head. “What is it?” he
asked the two.
“A kind of Fae. I have never seen the likes of it before.
This must be a protective barrier. Hound, can you take in its scent?”
The dog did as suggested and barked at his fellow canines.
They scampered forward and did the same.
With sniffs, whimpers and tiny barks, they rose to a challenge. “We will
sniff out all that we may find for the Princess and the King,” they told the
Unicorn.
“And so do. And bring the findings to me before nightfall.”
The dogs, ever eager to please their human friends, split up
to act out this task. Amy held her skirts to fetch her handmaids. “Water for
the dogs, please. And extra cages.”
The Unicorn oversaw this small act of Amy taking charge in a
dangerous situation and he felt something akin to pride. Perhaps this was a
fourth moment of astonishment.
4
Whilst the dogs turned over every stone for these odd
fae-things, Amy related to the Unicorn what the creatures’ behaviors had been
like.
“One I gave a sweetie to. At first it seemed quite pleased
and held its hands out for another, which I had and gladly gave it. But then I
was out of the treat and could give it no more. It then became like a petulant
child, stomping its foot and even crying. I tell you, they remind me of small
children. Pampered ones, at that. I have a cousin who is waited on
hand-and-foot and when she was such an age she acted the same way when I
received a toy for my birth date.”
“And were you ever spoiled?” the Unicorn asked, mostly out
of curiosity. “To be sure, I am. Visiting the villages, I realize I truly am.
But I do not believe I ever made such a fuss when not receiving my way. I knew
that in time I would get it, if I were patient,” she explained.
“I see, and so it is their impatience that reminds you of
children?” he asked.
The Princess nodded. “I find them rather charming if it were
not for all the things they break and the trouble they cause. Must they all be
destroyed?”
“Of course, Princess. To suffer them to live would be
foolish.”
Now as evening sun drew close to the horizon a pile of the
cocooned creatures waited before them. The alpha dog informed the Unicorn, “We
can find no more, Unicorn. The scent is nowhere else.”
“Father is going to be unhappy with all these holes,” Amy
mumbled.
Just as she spoke a raven overhead screeched. Both Unicorn
and Princess watched its passing in the sky. The Princess crossed herself at
the sight of the bad omen but the Unicorn brightened with an idea. “Princess,
to-night call all your guards inside or have them cork their ears. For there
may be a sound none should hear.”
“But, Unicorn. Why?”
“I shall explain it later.”
With that he was off in search of his immortal, feathery friend.
4
That sulking siren, with a black veil over her face, had not
moved from her weeping post. She still lie in her own winged embrace. But the
Unicorn’s light shone down into the cavern, stirring her.
“My friend, I have a task for you. If you will please take a
moment from your symphony of sighs to lend me the beauty of your voice, I shall
be forever in your debt.”
She, a creature of the night and a demon in reputation,
could not help but wonder what the majestic beast wished of her.
“How could I possibly aid thee at such a time?”
“The King’s castle is infested by Fae-things. They are like
children and I believe for that reason your song may be useful to us.”
The Siren was seen to sigh and then unfold her wings. She
lifted her head and stretched out. It was true she had songs particularly to
lead children astray, for the ancient creatures delighted in mortal children’s
bones, still tender and soft.
“I could lead mortal children astray but these are Fae.”
“Will you not try? If it does fail, I could destroy them
with a flicker of my light, but the Princess tells me they are innocent in nature,
if not triflingly naughty. I wonder if you may lead them back to the
Fairlands?”
The Siren turned to him. From under the veil there appeared
the faintest of smiles. “You are confident this may work?”
“I believe in your song,” he assured her.
“Then I shall try,” she agreed.
When the creatures reached the mortals’ castle, the Siren
asked, “Why is the yard so…eh, holy?”
“The blessing of dogs,” the Unicorn quipped. “These fae
burrow to hide from the light. Siren, hear and understand why I ask you to do
this. These are Fae and likewise the Fae should have to take responsibility for
them.”
She nodded in agreement, knowing the way to that other
world. All she needed was for the night to fall.
5
Night’s power fell on the mortal land. As it did, the green cocoons of the gremlins
began to fade as if they were illusions. The moonlight washed the greenery of
their blankets away. The vegetal creatures stretched out and yawned. The first
gremlin to realize they were in a cage let out a howl of dislike. The others
followed suit until the cage was a bedlam of noise. The Unicorn stood nearby,
ears flat to avoid the racket. It was quite irritating to him.
But he was the one who needed to stand guard and await the
Siren’s song.
The song began so faint that it could be dismissed as illusions
of night noise. But it fluttered closer, ever closer to where the creatures
were caged in the garden. The things lifted their petal ears, paused with those
leaves following the sound. The outline of the Siren shone against the backdrop
of the moon.
The first gremlin to see her pointed her out to the others.
Then, almost in an instant, all of their little eyes caught the image,
transfixed. Like children, indeed, they became pettish and impatient about
touching the mysterious figure in the sky.
The Unicorn knew when their hypnotism was complete, because
they all began to move in unison. He pulled the string connected to the cage.
The cage door swung open and the gremlins tumbled out. The Siren began to lead
them. The gremlins all had little bee-like wings which lifted them into the air
to join her.
But her figure was playful and swifter than they. For a
little while, the Unicorn saw that they were playing a game of chase with the
demoness. But soon she spun about and led them into the night. He nodded in
satisfaction. His friend had come through.
6
The following morning, the castle was not disturbed by the
creatures. The Unicorn had time to explain to the Princess what plan he
enacted. She was frightened and curious to discover that such a demon dwelt in
the forest but the Unicorn assured her that the Siren would not attack her. As
the Unicorn’s friend, the Siren had sworn not to harm the Princess and he
trusted her word.
He went in search of the Siren that same evening and found
her asleep in the cavern where she nested. There was no weeping and that
relieved the Unicorn. He had never seen such deep despair from another immortal
creature and, though demonic in nature and his opposite in actions, he pitied her.
Pity was not a thing the old Unicorn felt often.
“Rest well, good creature,” he told her sleeping form.
Quickly, tentatively he moved forward and gave the form a
gentle nuzzle of affection.
