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any hurt or insult,” cried the girl to the sea, and to the arch mouth. She tossed the last garland proudly, and came on toward the cliff. No one kept up with her. She hesitated by the limb of the arch and said quietly, “May God protect us from the horn of the unicorn. And may God watch for the safety of my father, the Prince Zorander. And for my lost friend and sister, Tanaquil, carried off by demons.”

“Lizra,” Tanaquil called softly, “Don’t jump. I’m alive. I’m up here.” Lizra raised her head. She was white and blank, like paper without writing. What would be written in?

“It was a demon of my mother’s,” said Tanaquil. “It saved me from Gasb and brought me here. The unicorn’s gone now. But I thought it—I mean, the Prince is well, is he?”

There was still no writing on Lizra’s face.

“Yes, my father the Prince is well. Are you, Tanaquil?”

“Definitely. And this is the wreckage of your dress. Whatcan I say? I’ve got a lot to tell you.” “We came to placate the unicorn,” said Lizra, like a sleepwalker.

“Well, as I said, it’s gone. Back through the Sacred Gate.”

“If that’s true, my father will rejoice.”

“I’ll bet. By the way, if you want proof of me, look downthere.”

Lizra turned. The peeve was snorting and sneezing its exitfrom a burrow in the sand. Catching sight of Lizra, it pouncedforward. Lizra dropped to her knees and embraced it. The peeveseemed startled but not offended; it licked Lizra’s cheek.

Tanaquil had moved her attention to the crowd on the beach. The courtiers only stood there, glittering and gaping. But amongthe chariots on the road there was a flurry of unpromising movement.

Lizra got up. “Gasb’s here. Father sent him with the escort.”

“Lovely,” said Tanaquil.

Men were running, gleaming military gold, from the road. The sun described faultlessly spears, lances, crossbows, and swords.And Gasb, who strode after in a hawk hat.

Over the sand, like memory, she heard his ghastly voice.

“The witch has returned. She haunts the Gate of the Beast! Did the fishermen not tell us weird fires have burned in the Gate for the past three nights, and that they avoided it in fear?”Three nights, Tanaquil thought, bemusedly. I was only gone a day.

She sat up, on the cliff. Something said to her, Stay flat. But even now she did not quite credit the weapons. In front of allthese people, would Gasb openly kill her? He might.

“The unicorn is—” shouted Tanaquil—

“Don’t let her speak a spell!” screeched Gasb. “Silence her!”

And suddenly, as simply as that, Tanaquil beheld the spearthat was to be her death arcing toward her through the sunlight.For to a practiced spearman, the distance up the rock was noth ing. And she, sitting against the sky, made an excellent target. Itwas as though she had reasoned all this before and helped them, helped the man and the spear. She saw it come, soaring up, as ifrushed by a cord to her heart. She saw it, and imagined swervingsideways, but although the spear came slowly, she moved moreslowly still. And in the last instant the point of the spear wasthere before her, and it blinded her with light.

So she did not see, only heard, a kind of splintering sizzle.She had an impression of fireworks and bits of wood. The court iers on the beach were screaming.

Then she saw again. The spear, in shreds, was tumblingdown the cliff. People who seemed to have recalled an urgentappointment were hurrying toward the road, falling in the sand,and tottering on again.

The spear must have hit something, some obstacle, just be fore it reached her.

Gasb had backed away. His hat fluttered. He threatened thesoldiers, but they only stood there under the cliff goggling at thefallen spear and at Tanaquil. The man who had made the spear-cast was gabbling nonsensically. In the middle of this, the peeve pelted from the cliff base and bit him on the leg, right through hisboot. The soldier howled and, perhaps instinctively, kicked vi ciously with the bitten leg at the peeve.

Tanaquil was a witness now. The kicking foot, rather thanstriking the peeve, met something in the air. It was invisible, buteffective. The soldier was dashed away, as if he had been lifted and thrown by an adversary of great strength. He landed in thesand thirty feet from the peeve, with a terrific thump, and did not move.

The peeve spruced itself. It did not bother with questions,merely watched in apparent glee as the other soldiers sprinted offup the beach and plummeted into the chariots, while streams of courtiers ran by them toward the city, wailing and tripping.

Only Gasb was left. He held up his hands, warding off Tanaquil and her power.

“Mighty sorceress, don’t harm me, be kind—” And as hervanquishing blow did not smite him, Gasb too turned tail andbolted for the chariots, and as before when he had run away, his hat flew off and dropped to the ground, glad to be rid of him.

“The unicorn,” said Tanaquil. Because she was seated, shegot up. Not sure what to do, she started to climb down the cliff.As she climbed, she listened to the pandemonium on the road,the rattle of departing chariots.

At the bottom of the cliff, Lizra stood with the peeve. She was still white above the rubies; maybe they made her look worse. If anything was written on her face, it was a strangeworried smugness.

“You are a witch. I said.”

“The unicorn touched me. It touched the peeve. I suppose—”

“The unicorn touched Father,” said Lizra. “It raked him across the chest with its horn, when it stole the shells from his cloak. He’ll always have the scar.” It was her public voice.

“Lizra, I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to frighten you. I didn’t know it would happen. I mean, it’s extraordinary.”

“You’re invulnerable,” said Lizra. She bowed. “Great sor ceress.” It was not a joke.

“Bow to the peeve, as well,” grated Tanaquil. “This is too much. I’ve seen something wonderful that didn’t want me—that none of us can have. Friend and sister, you said.”

“Everything’s

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