Read A Charm for a Unicorn Online
Authors: Jennifer Macaire
"No, it's just your brain refusing to face the truth.” The wizard medic sighed. “You were lucky, your knee is still intact and a sculptor can easily make you another leg with some strong wood when you've healed. You can learn to walk with crutches once you are restored to health."
Eyes closed, Renaldo reached downwards. He slid his hand over his knee and met a thick bandage. The flesh beneath it felt tender, swollen, and achy. His fingers twitched, then, trembling, he reached further down. The sheet suddenly flattened and his hand met the mattress. Horror iced his blood and bones, quickly replaced by the realization that he was alive, while so many others had perished.
Renaldo opened his eyes and stared at the medic. “How long have I been here?"
"Almost two weeks."
Another shock. Renaldo lay still, trying to digest everything; the loss of his leg, the fact that his identity had been found out. The doctor had said they'd informed his parents. The diplomats must have been relieved to let his mother and father know where he was. “I suppose my parents have sent an escort for me."
"Not yet. You're to assist at the royal wedding. Your parents sent word. You will represent the kingdom of Windtide."
"Wedding?” Renaldo echoed.
The medic beamed. “That's right. Things are looking brighter for Querel. The two princes have agreed to meet at winter solstice and assist at the marriage of their official court magician. Everyone is praying that they will make a treaty and cease their fighting. Their father has already drawn up several different treaties for them to consider. It's the first time the princes have stopped their quarrelling and have agreed to meet.
"Hope once more lives in our hearts, and it is rumored that the bride, a young woman from your own kingdom, is the most beautiful woman in the world. Sir Wulfe, her betrothed, is ... Why, what is it? Are you all right?"
Renaldo felt his breath leave his chest. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes. “Leonie? No!” he cried, and in a second, the world spun out of focus and grew dark.
Prince Renaldo lay in his bed and watched the clouds through the window. No one could ease his misery. As the days passed, diplomats had tried to speak to him, jugglers had tried to amuse him, and doctors had tried to reason with him, but Renaldo ignored them. Then one day, as the wedding approached, trumpets sounded loudly in the hospital's courtyard. Renaldo closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together as the sound of footsteps pounding on the marble stairs grew louder. Another diplomat determined to cheer him up? He could care less.
Suddenly his door flung open and the Queen's voice floated over the trumpets. “My son! My son! I'm here!"
Renaldo pretended to be sleeping. The mouse, who'd been sitting quietly on his shoulder for the entire morning, patted his cheek with his small paw. “Your mother has arrived, your Highness."
Renaldo opened his eyes. He saw his mother and winced. The sunlight gleamed on her diamond necklace and tiara, dazzling him. Three ladies-in-waiting, wearing bright fuchsia, yellow, and green silk dresses, crammed into the room, as well as a steward, a juggler with oranges, and a crier.
"Prince Renaldo, your mother has come to pay you a visit!” the crier brayed, although he was not an arm's breadth away. The juggler tried to juggle, collided with the lady in green, and dropped three oranges onto the bed. Just out the window, the trumpeters redoubled their efforts. Some cymbals clashed. The mouse dove into Renaldo's collar.
Renaldo cringed and shut his eyes again.
"What have they done to you?” his mother cried. “Why didn't you answer the messages I sent? I have been so worried!"
"They haven't done anything to me. They saved my life. I didn't want to send any messages, I received enough to last me a lifetime. I instructed the diplomats to keep you informed of my progress."
"Your father is furious."
"I imagine he is,” said Renaldo. “I told him not to leave the negotiations in Bromley under any circumstances."
"He wasn't about to leave them,” his mother snapped. Then her face softened. “My poor darling! I'm here now. You can be comforted."
"Can you give me some room? I don't have much balance yet.” Eyes closed, he groped for his crutches.
"Don't move, darling, we have arranged a litter. Harold,” she said to the steward, “Go get the royal litter!"
"I am perfectly capable of walking.” Renaldo opened his eyes and grabbed one of his crutches, trying to pull it out from under the juggler. A lady in waiting stood on the other crutch. “What are all these people doing in my room? Can't they wait until I get up?"
"Don't be cross, darling. We're just so glad to see you."
"Get. Out. Of. Here.” Renaldo tried to keep his voice level.
The queen sniffed loudly. “Well, if you insist.” She clapped her hands and shooed everyone out of the room. But she stayed put. “We have to talk. I have important news for you."
Renaldo picked his crutches up from the floor and looked at his mother. “Give me the news, then."
"After the fête. Come along, don't keep everyone waiting."
"Fête? What fête?” Renaldo got to his feet and tried to get his balance. He kept trying to put his missing leg down. It was frustrating.
"The doctors said you were despondent."
"So you came with jugglers as if I were a child to be entertained.” He paused long enough to let his mother embrace him, then, putting the crutches firmly beneath his arms, he hopped out of the room. Without stopping or looking at anyone, he made his way down the red carpet two stewards had rolled out, turned and hopped slowly out of the hospital.
A large crowd stood at the entrance. In front of them a band played loudly, and more jugglers tossed colorful balls back and forth. As he arrived, the crowd erupted in a loud cheer. Renaldo didn't pause. He descended the staircase, shouldered his way through the crowd, and entered the small park flanking the hospital.
The music wavered and died out, and the cheers, deafening when he stepped out of the hospital, petered away to a smattering of hesitant claps as he went into the park and disappeared around a corner.
The mouse tickled Renaldo's ear with his whiskers. “What is the matter?"
Renaldo sat on a marble bench and put the crutches at his foot. “The same thing that has been bothering me since I woke up here. My leg is gone, and the woman I love is about to marry an evil magician. Other than that, everything is just peachy."
"I just wish you'd cheer up. It's not the end of the world, after all, you only saw the girl twice."
"I don't want to talk about it.” Renaldo put his head in his hands.
At that moment his mother came into the park. She sat next to him on the bench and looked at him gravely. “I'm sorry. I only wanted to cheer you up, like any mother would. But you are not a child anymore, and I was amiss bringing the entertainment."
Some of the anger he felt drained away. “That's all right. I understand. What was the news you wanted to tell me?"
"We're going to the wedding. It's a political affair. I'm representing Bromley, and you are to represent Windtide. Sir Wulfe invited us to stay at his castle. He has offered us his hospitality."
"Sir Wulfe? Mother, Sir Wulfe, the wizard of Querel, is the one responsible for my situation! You just told me that he transformed Windtide's only wizard and he..."
"I know."
"You know?” Renaldo felt as if he was caught in some sort of bad dream, where nothing made sense.
The queen leaned over and took his hands in hers. “He sent his regrets and explained everything. Didn't you tell Sir Wulfe who you were?"
Renaldo tried to recall that horrible night. “I don't think he gave me time,” he admitted.
"He is the one who made sure you got the proper treatment here, and when you were missing, he was tireless in his efforts to find you. He was as surprised as anyone when you turned up fighting on a rebel ship. That took a great deal of explaining."
"I'm sure it did,” Renaldo said dryly.
"Our diplomats went to great lengths to make sure there wasn't a grave misunderstanding that could have led to a declaration of war.” His mother leaned back and gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You have caused our country quite an embarrassment, my son."
"I caused an embarrassment?” Renaldo sputtered.
"Yes.” His mother's voice could have withered roses, had there been any in the garden. “First, you disappear without so much a by-your-leave. We had no idea where you'd gone. Luckily your brother found out from a local seamstress that you'd had a assignation with the magician's daughter. The wizard of Castle Veil!” She gave a bitter laugh. “As if that family hasn't done enough harm. By chance, Sir Wulfe was summoned that night by the girl's father. He says that it was a huge mix-up, and everyone acted hastily. But you're the one to blame. You and that ... that girl. She was already engaged. She should have known better. As for Sir Casper, the wizard of Castle Veil, he will regain his original form when Sir Wulfe forgives him."
"The magician's daughter is not responsible for anything,” said Renaldo. “Where is Sylvain?"
She looked suddenly worried. “I wanted to be the one to tell you before you heard it from anyone else. Sylvain has run off."
"What are you talking about?"
His mother patted his hand. “When you went missing, Sylvain ran off. I have no idea where he is. And the magician of Windtide has been turned into a snake."
"Sir Casper?"
"It's a serious quarrel between magicians, so there is nothing we can do. But it's been hard for Windtide not having a resident magician.” She took a deep breath. “Why did you join the rebel army? Why go to war?"
Renaldo's head was swimming. His mother's words were like pieces of a broken puzzle—falling in no logical order, fitting no familiar picture. Nothing made sense. His brother ran away? Why would he do such a thing? “Could he have been searching for me?” he asked.
His mother looked uncomfortable now. “He did set off to do that, but I got word from Sir Wulfe right away telling me about his error. I told Sylvain, so he knew that you were not in any danger...” her voice trailed away. “I suppose he could still be searching for you. I didn't hear anything from him after I told him not to get involved in Sir Wulfe's quarrel. After all, it was bad enough you got involved.” His mother broke off and frowned at him. “Why do you stare at me like an owl caught in torch light?"
"You speak a language I know, but your words make no sense,” said Renaldo. “As I live and breathe, I swear to you that Sir Wulfe knew who I was, even if he won't admit it, and he sent me away despite that fact. He means to marry a young woman against her wishes, and he's somehow made Sylvain disappear, I'll stake my life on it."
The queen drew herself stiffly upright and snapped, “Sir Wulfe is a powerful wizard with other worries than getting involved with love-sick and runaway princes. He did what he thought best. He never forced you to join the army—you did that of your own accord. You could have told anyone who you were, but you didn't."
"What did my father say?” Renaldo found he could not meet her eyes. All she said was true in a way. It depended how you looked at it.
"What do you think he said?” His mother stood up and began pacing in front of him. “He was upset, no, he was furious. A whole flock of Crow Callers descended on the kingdom. He had to spend hours writing letters explaining your rash actions, he had to spend days with diplomats from Querel demanding why one of our princes was taking sides in a war that wasn't his, and he even spent time with Sir Wulfe who took a whirlwind and came to apologize most abjectly for sending you away."
Renaldo wanted to believe what she said—that Sir Wulfe hadn't known who he was, and the whole incident had been a mistake. But he couldn't forget the cold, calculating look in the magician's eyes. In his heart, he knew the wizard was evil, and that he served but one master—himself. “I'd like to see Leonie, before the wedding, and in private, if possible."
The queen snorted, a smug look on her face. “You can talk to the girl in Sir Wulfe's presence, and I hope you will have the courage to apologize to Sir Wulfe."
A knife in his chest would have been kinder, Renaldo thought. He managed to get up and hop out of the garden, but he had no real recollection of the fête, or the journey to Sir Wulfe's castle. It was as if his mind and body had gone numb.
The first signs of the unicorn glade were tiny, pale green ferns curled like baby fists in the shelter of ledge and root. Snow sifted through the branches, but it didn't reach the ground. Instead, it turned to small droplets of water. Underfoot, the frozen ground suddenly thawed and became mossy. As Sylvain advanced, he spotted bare branches sprouting green leaves. Soon, overhead, there was a canopy of dappled greenery and sunlight.
A balmy breeze tickled Sylvain's nose and his horse arched its neck and whickered. In a patch of sunlight, water sparkled. Something moved, reminding Sylvain of a white curtain blowing suddenly in the breeze on a hot, summer day. He was a small boy again, sitting in his room early in the morning, with no worries, his only thoughts about what he would do that day: pick blackberries, wade in the stream, catch butterflies in his new net. For a second the world seemed to tremble, poised upon the knife-blade of his memories.
He glimpsed the quick movement again, but he was too slow to catch it. He heard no sound, but scented a faint whiff of lily of the valley. He dismounted, looping the reins over his arm. The air grew warmer. “Leonie?” he called softly. “Are you there?"
The unicorn stepped out from behind a pine tree. Each step was as light as a falling feather. For a moment Sylvain felt blinded, dazzled, and he could not take in the whole creature at once. Instead he saw her in flashes; a tall, spiraled horn the color of sea-foam, shy eyes that darkened or grew pale as she turned her narrow head, a mane and tail as fine as silk floss, a coat like frosted white velvet, and strong, nervous legs. A unicorn. He hardly dared draw a breath.