The Unicorn Thief (6 page)

Chapter 12

Ben rose and went to the fire. He picked up the poker stick and jabbed at the logs.

“But why would someone who wants to start a war between Eastland and Westland want Indy? How would someone from Eastland even know about Indy?” Ben shook his head. Emmie flapped off his lap, back to the doorway. “I'm not going to go to the queen just because this thief told me to. I won't be threatened like this! How do I even know I'll get Indy back? If someone will steal, he'll lie too.”

Twig cringed inside. She'd stolen things, back when she'd lived with Mom. Stolen things for her mom.
But
I'm different now
, she told herself.
A
new
Twig
. A Twig who could take back what was stolen this time. “Maybe the queen would be grateful that we could help find her unicorn.” Maybe she could even be persuaded to change her ways. Twig got up so she could look Ben in the eye. “If she'd offer us protection—”

“The queen protects no one! She has no idea what she's done, what she's doing to all of us!” Ben's hand clenched around the stick. He spun around and tossed it at the far wall.

Merrill was on his feet with a quick jerk. “Then I suppose you'll have to let her know—about a number of things.”

Ben stiffened, then deflated. Merrill's words had not only burst the balloon of anger, but had also sucked all the heat and life out of him.

Twig spoke up. “I don't know what's going on here. But I do know that this thief—and who knows who else—has been going through the passage. Strangers, on our island. Our home, Ben. Sneaking around in the dark.” The passage was supposed to be locked. And then she remembered—“Only the queen can change the locks! You told me that once. She could change the locks, couldn't she? We wouldn't have to worry about who has a key now or how they got it. As long as she only gave us one. Everything could be how it was. We could go back and work with the herd—”

“Nothing can ever be how it was!” Ben's eyes shone with unshed tears. “I'm sorry,” he said gruffly. “I don't know…this whole thing is…”

“It isn't just Indy you miss. You miss him still…your dad.” And he was afraid of losing Indy forever, just like he'd lost Darian. “Couldn't you
try
talking to the queen?” Twig said gently.

“She's the last person I'd ask for help.”

Ben turned away with a snap of his cape. The flames flickered at his back, and the fire was back in his eyes.

Twig was about to snap back in her frustration. But she knew what it was to not want to ask for things, didn't she?

Outside, Wonder cried out, her whinny strained with thinning patience, tinged with the threat of total rebellion. Rain Cloud nickered a reprimand, a reassurance, but his anxiousness was unmistakable too. Franklin's bray from the other side of the shelter topped off the animals' complaints.

“It's time we get going,” Ben said coolly. “Do you have what we need?”

“Of course.” Merrill nodded toward the corner of the shelter, at what appeared to be a pile of folded clothes.

Twig followed Ben to the corner, where Merrill handed her a black tunic trimmed in red and yellow.

Ben took off his cape and slipped an identical garment over his shirt. “We're messengers for the queen's army.”

Twig put her tunic on over her shell and mini-backpack, then turned to Merrill. “Maybe you should come with us.”

“I have to get back home to Marble. I'm too well-known in certain circles besides. Too distinctive.” He patted his artificial leg.

“Oh.” Twig glanced sideways at Ben. She didn't know how she was going to handle a stubborn pony, a wild-hearted unicorn, and this boy—just as stubborn and wild with grief and determination. Just as strange to her, as secretive as this world, hidden from the Earth Land by its circle of mist.

Merrill picked up a harness and bridle, adorned with black fabric and trimmed in red and yellow, just like Twig's tunic. “Time to outfit Wonder and Rain Cloud.”

“How did you get this stuff?”

Merrill shrugged. “I've been working on it ever since I found out about you and your Wonder. Since I heard of Darian's fate. I wanted to be prepared in case the two of you had to spend some time in Terracornus. Trouble is, I hadn't planned on outfitting a pony. I'm afraid a grown unicorn's trappings will make an awkward fit for little Rain Cloud.”

“We'll make it do,” Ben said.

“But still, Rain Cloud
is
a pony. I mean, are there even ponies here in Terracornus?”

“There are horses, sure. They do the hauling and the plowing.”

“The grunt work,” Ben put in.

“But not ponies,” Twig said.

“Well…”

Ben said, “It's a good enough reason for him to be made a messenger. A stunted horse. Too small for heavier work.”

“Stunted!” They'd probably think Twig was stunted too, small and skinny as she was. People didn't call her
Twig
for nothing.

Ben said, “You'll have to think like a Terracornian from time to time in order to survive among them.”

Twig spun on her heel and headed for the open doorway. “If that's how Terracornians think, then I'm glad I'm not one of them.”

A hand rested on Twig's back. “You could never be one,” Ben said. “Your heart's too big.”

“They can change, you know,” Merrill said. “Terracornus wasn't always this way. We must never forget that.”

Twig shifted uncomfortably in the tunic. “If this world can turn one way, it can turn back the other,” she said hopefully.

But Ben didn't look so sure.

Behind the shelter, they draped Rain Cloud and Wonder with the trappings.

Merrill gave the animals a confident nod. “We're ready for the last bit, looks like.” He held a white disc in the palm of his hand. Fine leather straps dangled from it, over his arm. “Twig, we're going to need your help with this.”

Twig's fingers tightened in Wonder's mane. “What is it?”

“A horn cap, to keep Wonder's horn down.”

Twig's stomach knotted up. “Why would we want to do that?”

“Because,” Ben said quietly, “the only reason a fine yearling unicorn like Wonder would be a messenger, the only reason she wouldn't be training for battle instead, is if there was a flaw with her horn.”

“Misshapen, blunted, broken, missing…” Merrill said.

“So when she's wearing this and she's around other unicorns, her horn won't extend?”

“It cannot,” Merrill explained. “The pressure keeps it down.”

“She isn't going to like this, is she?”

“No, Twig.” Merrill put a hand on her shoulder. “I'll put it on her. Let her blame me.”

“Merrill…”

“He's right. You'll hate it, and she'll feel it while you're strapping it on.”

Thank God Wonder's horn was already retracted. Merrill was so steady, Wonder only squirmed the slightest bit. He buckled the straps over her ears and under her chin. Twig adjusted her bridle to cover the horn cap's straps, then arranged Wonder's silky forelock over the disk.

Merrill said, “There's some food packed up for the two of you, for your journey. Come and help me get it, Twig.”

“Sure.”

Inside the shelter, Twig said, “Thank you, Merrill, for everything.”

“Of course.” Merrill shook her hand, then pulled her into a hug. “You take care, Twig.”

Twig glanced out the door. Ben was leading Rain Cloud around the front already. Twig moved to go, but Merrill held her hand tight. He whispered, “A true friend is a rare thing, for anybody. A friend of any sort is rare enough for that boy. I know you're true, Twig. And I know you'll convince him to go to the queen.” Merrill leaned closer. “He thinks Darian wouldn't want him to go to her, and could be he's right. But even so, going to her is what's right.”

Twig didn't know what to say. She hadn't really had friends either before she came to the Murleys. The girls were her friends now, truly; she was sure of that. So was Ben. But could she really influence someone like him? “I'll try,” she said.

Merrill clapped her on the back. He gave her a confident smile. “You've got the heart of a herder. A herder from the old days. Days when we'd never give up on a single unicorn, let alone their whole kind. I almost gave up, Twig-girl. I helped Darian and Ben with supplies, with advice, so they could tend to the island's herd. But mostly I gave up. I told myself it was because of this.” He thumped his palm on his artificial leg. “But that was just an excuse. And who do you think made me realize what I was doing—what I
wasn't
doing?”

Twig blinked up at him.

“It was you, my girl. You gave me the push I needed to keep from staying a useless old man with my best days behind me. You can do the same for Ben.”

Twig thought of Mom. Mom, who'd done what she was going to do no matter how Twig had persuaded, pleaded, cried. “Sometimes people won't see.”

“In time they all see, Twig. Just, for some, they see too late. Let's hope Ben doesn't make that mistake.”

Chapter 13

The air smelled strange, even for Terracornus. The ground grew muddier, and moss and lichen crawled along the branches of the leafy trees like it did on the evergreens of Lonehorn Island. The air had changed too, but there was no tinge of salt or fresh, rainlike fragrance. The crisp, spicy scent of the silver-green forest gave way to a very different smell. Twig crinkled her nose. It smelled wet—the wet of rotting.

Emmie circled higher, farther from the murky air. In the distance, there was a
pop, hiss
. A burbling, like a pot boiling over.

“What was that?”

“Swamp gas. Wonder's leading us toward the swamp.”

The swamp? Twig's heart fluttered with panic. She could hear Casey's voice, lowered for dramatic effect.
Of
course
there's things alive in the Death Swamp…things that'll make sure you don't make it out alive
.

“Indy went into the swamp?” Twig said. “Why would the thief take him in there?”

“Could be he just came close.”

“Or maybe Indy got away!”

“We'll see.”

Soon the mud was up almost to Rain Cloud's knees. The trees weren't rooted in the ground; they appeared to be floating—in swamp water. A layer of rich, foamy green carpeted that water.

This was it. The edge of the swamp.

Wonder picked up a hoof even more slowly than usual, and the mud sucked in protest as the swamp tried to cling to her, to hold her back.

“Well, it doesn't look so bad,” Twig said hopefully. The water was stinky but not unbearable. It certainly wasn't black. Maybe those stories were just stories, embellished to frighten and thrill. But the look Ben gave her squashed that hope.

He pointed into the vines. Dangling among the bright green was an even brighter rope. It moved, in spite of the absence of a breeze. A snake.

“Poisonous. But this is just the outer edge of the swamp. Farther in, there are other snakes. Other dangers. It's dark. The creatures blend in. People don't see them until it's too late.”

“The stories…”

“They're true. We have to turn around.”

What
about
Indy?
One look at Ben's face, and Twig swallowed back the words. If Indy was in that swamp…

“The swamp swallows up all other scents. All the water…its own smells…”

The chances of finding Indy in there were next to nothing. And the chances of never finding their way out of the Death Swamp were very high.

With an aching heart, Twig urged Wonder to turn around. Wonder cried out mournfully, as though she too thought that the brave Indigo Independence, her father, was lost.

“What now?” Twig asked, looking into Ben's grim face. “Are we going back to Merrill?”

“No.” Ben sighed and stared determinedly into the distance. “We're going to the castle.”

***

Ben urged Rain Cloud into a gallop. He knew what he had to do to save Indy.

“The castle!” Twig gasped. “To see the queen?”

The queen wouldn't see them if he could help it. “The queen has a library. There's a map of the swamp there. It's our only hope of finding Indy in there and making it out alive.”
Even
if
Indy
isn't.
Ben tried not to picture him sinking into the mud, deeper and deeper, not to imagine the swamp lizards gliding through the water, his desperate cries for help igniting their hunger.

He had to get that map and hope it wasn't too late. Ben whispered words of encouragement to Rain Cloud. The pony panted after Wonder, who'd begun to toss her head frantically as Twig pushed her on, away from Indy's scent.

Through the trees ahead, Ben spotted something—the telltale pale blur of a unicorn!

“Indy!” Twig cried.

The breeze shifted the branches, and sunlight glinted on something deep gold. The unicorn's trappings were gold and green, the colors of the army of Eastland.

“They're Eastlanders!” Ben said.

But his warning came too late. With a determined leap, Twig and Wonder were off, headed straight for the encampment of Eastland soldiers, dressed in the trappings of a messenger of the Queen of Westland, Eastland's sworn enemy. There was nothing for Ben to do but follow.

Ben heard the cries of surprise, the pounding of hooves, the ring of steel. He was still too far away to help Twig. Ben struggled to ride the unfamiliar pony while readying his bow. Rain Cloud's every response was slow motion compared with Indy, making it even harder for Ben to know whether his subtle signals had been missed entirely.

Though he wanted to rush in, Ben had no choice but to slow Rain Cloud as he approached the perimeter of the clearing. Half a dozen soldiers formed a line in front of him, bows trained on him.

He was outmatched. Ben carefully lowered his bow. Rain Cloud trembled. “We are messengers of the Queen of Westland,” Ben said quickly. “My companion's mount is young and…ill. She caught a scent and rushed after it. We come with no intent to harm. We didn't mean to startle you.”

“More like distract us,” one of the soldiers muttered. He spat on the ground and scanned the forest behind Ben, searching for others.

“Come now, Ackley,” the soldier next to him said. “There is the truce. Perhaps the Westlander is telling the truth.”

“Westlanders telling the truth?” Ackley sniffed.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” Ben said, “but this is Westland. It is you who are guests here.”

“That's right. We are Her Majesty's guests, come at her invitation to attend the grand tournament. As a gesture of goodwill. And to discuss matters of great importance. Matters that could affect our truce.”

Stolen
unicorns. War
.

“Perhaps her will is not so good if we are unable to travel under the protection of her invitation, Barlow,” Ackley snarled.

A high cry pierced the sounds of chaos coming from the Eastlanders' camp. Wonder. What were they doing to her? What about Twig?

The one called Barlow nodded. “The prince will not be pleased.”

“Excuse me,” Ben said, “the prince?”

“Reynald. The Prince of Eastland. The one they call—”

“The Boy King,” Ben finished for Barlow.

“That's the one,” Barlow said proudly.

Reynald was a famous rider and fighter. His unshakable stallion, Stone Heart, was just as famous. With his elderly father ailing and too weak to travel, it was Prince Reynald who represented his people. From here to the farthest reaches of the Barrenlands, Reynald was known as the Boy King. What had started out as a term of derision—mocking a young boy too full of himself, as well as a jab at the true ruler of Eastland—was now spoken with a trace of awe, even by those who despised Eastland the most.

Reynald was not only skilled and intelligent, but he was also ruthless. He had to be. The Eastlanders weren't known to value mercy, and with his uncle vying to take the throne from his ailing father, the young prince had to show his people that he was a king in the making—a king worth waiting for. And he was here, just on the other side of those trees—with Twig, who'd just barged into his camp.

***

Wonder leaped over the underbrush and into a clearing full of tents, armed men and women, and more unicorns than Twig had ever seen in once place—unicorns that hardly seemed like unicorns at all. Not like Wonder and Indy, and not like Dagger and the wild herd either. Their bodies were the same, their movement only slightly changed by their armor, but their eyes! They were dull gray instead of swirling with quicksilver life.

“Stop her!” a soldier shouted.

“To the perimeter!”

“It's a trap!”

“Please!” Twig cried. “Don't shoot! It's just a mistake.”

But was it? Was Indy here?

Wonder reared and kicked over a cooking pot. Its contents splashed into the campfire. A tower of steam billowed up, and their pursuers backed off. Wonder bounded off again and came face-to-face with the horn of an Eastland unicorn. The unicorn charged with a cold determination. Wonder shrieked at her own hornless state, dodged, and reared again. Could she fight with nothing but hooves and teeth?

Wonder charged at one of the tents with a sense of purpose that defied every warning and plea from her rider. Wonder scraped her head against a tent pole, trying to dislodge her horn cap. The horn cap flipped up—just enough to relieve the downward pressure on her horn for an instant. And an instant was all it took for the point of her horn to rise and push its way out.

Now armed and ready, Wonder turned again to fight. A small, orange-feathered object whizzed through the air. The Eastlanders were done with restraint. Someone had fired. Twig felt Wonder flinch, then the muscles relax underneath her. The strength, the energy, seeped out of Wonder.

The unicorn crumpled, spilling Twig onto the trampled earth. Twig jumped up, drew her sword, and glared at the circle of mounted soldiers around her. Their confusion and concern turned to amusement.

How dare they laugh! Fighting angry tears, Twig turned to Wonder. A tuft of orange feathers fanned out from her perfect white flank.

“No!” Twig dropped her sword and fell to her knees.

“It's just a sleep inducer. She'll be fine in a few minutes. You, on the other hand…” The soldier chuckled. He nodded at two men behind him.

Rough hands grabbed Twig's collar and hauled her to her feet. Twig stared into a shrewd, battle-scarred face.

“Your unicorn gave you away.” He kept a tight grip on her as he spoke. His voice was low and raspy. “The queen would never waste such a well-built young mare on a messenger.”

“Could be she sent this ‘messenger' on her supposedly harmless mount to attack the prince once we let her into our camp,” a skinny young soldier said.

“Why would I go barging in like this then? That doesn't make any sense.”

“'Cause you're just a girl, and a lousy rider at that,” the skinny one replied.

Twig bristled and wanted to say something smart back, but tears pricked her eyes; the burn of a cry tried to make its way up her throat.

“Yes,” said Raspy Voice, “but why would the queen send an inferior rider to penetrate our camp?”

Another soldier approached. “Ackley.” Raspy Voice nodded at him.

“Looks like there's just the two of them, her and a boy. Quite a bit bigger, but riding a runty horse.” Ackley leaned to Raspy Voice's ear, and Twig barely caught his whisper. “He insists on having a word with the prince, alone. He's certain the prince will want to see him.”

***

Ackley tossed Ben's weapons into a heap.

“This way,” Barlow said. “To the prince.”

Ben followed him to the largest tent, positioned in the center of the camp. Inside, the Boy King sat in a cushioned, gilded chair, his arms crossed, green cape trimmed with braid—not dyed but made of real gold thread.

“So, I have a visitor?” His voice was high—surprisingly boyish. “Interesting, since I've already received a message from the queen today.” He rose and strode over to a desk in the corner of the tent, picked up a rolled-up paper, and cast it to the ground with a flourish. “First an insult, a threat to war, even as I journey to the castle at the queen's request. And now this—invasion. You are no messenger of the queen, are you?”

Ben bowed deeply, though it pained him to do it. “No, Your Highness.” He couldn't let the Boy King think this was a gesture of war. “But I assure you, we're not—”

“Spies? Assassins? I
will
find out who you are, and there
will
be war! Make no mistake about that. Thievery! Low-down thievery! That's what she's accused me of. How would I steal a unicorn out of her own stable, when I was five days' travel away at the time, you tell me that!”

No doubt the queen thought it had been a professional hired by the ruler of Eastland, perhaps to diminish Westland's forces and to bolster their own, or perhaps just to mock her. If the rumors, and the queen, were right, that meant that someone with access to the key to the passage, with knowledge of its location, had passed these on to Westland's enemies. Someone had ventured all the way into the Earth Land in order to help provoke this war.

Reynald gestured for Ben to rise. He leaned in, just inches from Ben's face. “Soon enough, I'll prove myself against Westland's riders. There will be none who can match me!”

“You
are
a champion of tournaments.” Though Ben would've resorted to flattery if that was what it took to get them out of here alive, his statement was true.

“I am a champion of nearly every test of skill! All but the battlefield.”

Reynald was too young for a real battle against men; he wasn't much older than Ben. Was he foolish enough to try? Was his father weak enough to allow it? How many men and women, how many unicorns, would die for his desire to engineer his own honor?

Ben looked the Boy King in the eye. He was not going to let that happen. He was going to have to tell him exactly who he was.

***

Reynald drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, staring at Ben, now seated in the simpler cushioned chair the Boy King had offered him.

“Ben of the Island. I always hoped we would meet. I never supposed it would be under such…interesting circumstances. My men told me you arrived on a runty old horse. Quite a step down for the son of Darian. I suppose the two of you haven't managed to rein in any of the wild savages on that island after all. So much for the mighty ambitions of Westland's most ardent herders.”

“My unicorn,” Ben ground out the words, “was stolen. Perhaps you could tell me something about that.”

“How, in the name of all the unicorns, do you think I could know you were coming back to Westland and send someone to steal your unicorn as you journeyed?”