Black Unicorn, Tanith Lee [famous ebook reader txt] 📗

been left to brave the cold; their blooms were frostbitten and black, but already new buds were breaking, andby noon everything would be in flower. Wading birds fished in the ponds.

“Do you think there could be such a thing as a unicorn?”asked Lizra.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know where you come from,” said Lizra, “no, I don’t want to know. But probably you haven’t heard the city legends. There are two. One says the unicorn founded the city. It was carried ashore on a great wave, and where it touched the earth with its horn a magic well was formed that became thesource of all the waters of the city. Then, from time to time the Beast returned, to greet the princes of the city. One day it will come back and, approaching the prince, touch him and endow him with mighty powers—make him immortal, impervi ous to harm, that sort of thing. And then the city will flourish asnever before.”

“What’s the other legend?” said Tanaquil, remembering the yelps of the artisans.

“The other legend is that we offended the unicorn—I don’t know how. And so when it comes back it will kill and maim, and maybe the sea will wash in and destroy the city altogether.”

Tanaquil stood in thought. She pictured the ancient sea cov ering the desert, the fossils, and the star-bones found beneath the hollow hill.

The peeve fell into a pond. They fished it out.

“Spuff. Bad,” said the peeve. “Wet.”

“It’s really brilliant how you do that,” said Lizra. “Your lips don’t move at all.”

Tanaquil wanted to tell Lizra the facts, but once again held herself back. Like Lizra, perhaps she too had never had a friend ship. Certainly she had tried to make friends with the maids in the fortress, but resolutely they had kept Tanaquil in her “proper place”: Madam’s daughter.

The day was warm, and the peeve shook and fluffed itself beside them as they went to see the mechanical waterwheel that drew up water for the gardens.

As they were standing watching the wheel, which revolved the full buckets high, tipped them sideways into a canal, and then swung them on down again into a cistern, a palace servant jogged up to Lizra.

“Highness, your father invites you to his library.”

“Thank you,” said Lizra, “I obey.” The servant went off and Lizra swore. “I know what it is, it’s about the Festi val of the Blessing at the end of the week—tomorrow. There’s just so much ritual,” she said, as they entered the palace and walked toward a Flying Chair. As the gang hauled them up with cries of hilarity, Tanaquil clutched her knees and the peeve clawed the cushions, bristled, and looked as if it might be sick. Lizra added, “By the way, I’m afraid the last three floors will be in father’s private Chair. It’s worse than this.”

“Worse?”

They alighted on the twelfth landing, and walked down a corridor lined with saluting golden soldiers. At its end was a carved door, and going through they found a landing of green onyx. On a flight of stairs a band of terrible-looking people were rushing unsafely about, cartwheeling and swinging from the bani sters, hanging upside down, and giving awful raucous screams and

giggles. They were dressed in beautiful clothes, but were barefoot.Their hair stood on end.

Lizra said sternly, “Chair down.”

At once the crazed activity was transformed into a thunder ing, screeching race up the stairs. From three floors up presentlythere were calls and howls, and then a burst of song—the wordssounded nonsensical.

Down the stairwell came a Flying Chair of stupefying mag nificence on a rope bound with silver. It stopped at the landing.“They untie it above,” said Lizra. “We’d better get in. Theyaren’t able to stay still for long.”Tanaquil followed Lizra uneasily into the Chair, sat, andheld the peeve between her arms in an iron lock. Lizra kicked a gold thing in the floor and a trumpet pealedoverhead. The noises became a gale; the cage juddered and began to rise.

As they went up, they encountered and passed the Chairgang, who were plunging down the stairs with the other end of the silver rope, shrieking and singing something like “Heave ho,rope and woe—” their feet never missing the treads, their eyesred, foaming at the mouth.

“Oh, the God!” cried Tanaquil.They reached the upper landing and the chair stopped rock-still.

“They’ll tie it up at the bottom now,” said Lizra. “Then they must wait for the next one going up or down. When father’sbusy, sometimes they run up and down every ten minutes. They’rethe counterweight, you see. It was Gasb’s idea. My father thoughtit was unusual. They all go off their heads. They can’t keep still.They have to sleep in clockwork hammocks that sway.”

Tanaquil felt sick, and not only from the Chair.

Two gold soldiers now stood with spears crossed over a golddoor. “This is the door to the apartments of the Prince.”“I, the daughter of the Prince, will enter with my compan ion, the Princess Tanaquil.”

“Enter!”

Beyond the door was a thing of which Tanaquil had heard,but never seen: daytime winter.

“Don’t take any notice,” said Lizra.

They walked up ten steps that seemed made of the sheerest

ice, but somehow did not slip. On either side long plains of snowextended to bluish distance, where white snow mountains stabbed into a royal blue sky. On the snow plains great cats of white, spotted fur stalked each other.

Tanaquil grimaced. She made herself recognize the panes ofglass between herself and the snows.

They reached the top of the stair, and an open arch. Into thespace came a snow leopard treading on taloned feet. It turned its wicked head to them and snarled, and the fur rose along itsback.

The peeve lay flat, waggling its rump and grumbling.

“It’s only clockwork,” said Lizra. “It’s all clockwork.”

The peeve got up again. The snow leopard had no smell, and now indeed had retreated into a wall.

They walked through the arch and out of the snows into agreat library of golden books. The sunlight gushed over thepolished floor from a doorway to the roof outside. Butterflies