Unicorn Point

Pyreforge stared at her. “An thou canst convince me o’ that, with her Eye hooded, mayhap my aid be thine.” It took time, but in due course the old elf was satisfied. He turned over the invaluable Platinum Flute. It was in pieces, in a box, but could be readily assembled at need.  “But we know not how to use it,” Fleta said. “The amulet guided us here to it, and. my dam says we must merge the frames, but—”

“Let me research in my references.”

More time passed. The elves gave them bread and water while they waited, treating them with courtesy now that their loyalty to Stile was known. Tania had to give up the fading amulet of privacy and become fully apparent.  “Ah, now I see!” the elf exclaimed as he saw her clearly.  “Thou hast the stigmata o’ love for Bane! That be why thou didst change sides!”

Tania was taken aback. “Shows it thus?”

“Ordinarily, nay. But thy whole nature has changed, and that be evident. But an the frames merge, what o’ thee?”

“0’ me?”

“Thou dost love the man o’ this frame, who be not with Fleta. Thine other self loves the rovot, who be not with the alien. But—”

“The alien!” Al exclaimed. “My namesake!”

“Aye,” Fleta said. “When she and I exchanged, and she were in Phaze, she helped thy parents get together, so they named thee after her. Likewise there be a child in Proton frame, Mach tells me, named ‘Corn, though me thinks I con tributed not to that.”

“Mine other self!” Al said, pleased.

“As I were saying,” Pyreforge continued gruffly, “An the frames merge, so will thy two selves—and there will be one man with one woman. Bane will have the alien, and Fleta will have Mach, all together in one, and none be open for thee. So what o’ thee?”

Tania looked crestfallen. “I know not,” she said faintly.

This was the matter that Fleta had not been able to raise. It was the separation of Mach and Bane that made compromise possible; without that separation, and the two distinct frames, there would be no free man, or free aspect of him.  “Then canst thou labor to merge the frames, an it be pos sible?”

Tania considered. “I sought to vamp Bane, to win him o’er to our side—1 mean the Adverse Adepts—and make a fitting mate for me. I wanted to marry below my station not. But the ploy turned, and he won me to his side, which now be Stile’s, and made o’ me his creature though ne’er did he touch me. Now must I do what he would have me do, and I would save him though I lose him. I can explain it not else.”

“It will do,” the old elf said. “Take the Flute to Blue and it will rouse him and enable him to throw off the geis on him.  Then will he know what to do.”

“There be the answer!” Fleta exclaimed. “To fetch the Flute and bring it to him!”

“Else would we ne’er give it thee,” Pyreforge agreed. “An this instrument fall into enemy hands—”

“I will die before that happen,” Fleta said, and the air around her rippled.

“Aye,” the elf agreed.

Soon they were on their way again, trotting north toward the Blue Demesnes. They passed through the Werewolf De mesnes, but they neither paused there nor made themselves known, for fear the enemy would discover them.  Fleta carried the Platinum Flute, in its box, tied to her barrel. She could feel its latent power, warming her side and lending strength. She knew it could revive Stile!  In two days they were near the castle of the Blue De mesnes. But how were they to get inside? They knew that there would be formidable magic barring their way, and that their amulet would not protect them from discovery here, even if any real strength remained in it.  “Mayhap they be busy elsewhere, not guarding this,” Al said hopefully. “I can fly in and spy it out, and if naught happens to me—”

“Aye, go,” Fleta said. She did not like putting him in danger, but she couldn’t risk bringing the Flute near until she knew it was safe.

Alien changed form and flew low and circuitously toward the castle. In due course he returned. “Tan be there, guard ing—but he be sleeping!”

Without a word, Fleta advanced on the castle in her human form. It would have been faster in her natural form, but she didn’t want the sound of her hooves waking the Adept. Tania followed. They took advantage of whatever cover they could find.

They crossed the moat and entered the castle. It was un naturally silent; the animals that usually came for healing were gone, and the normal activities of cooking and working were still. The geis had been laid on it, and it was in effect deserted.

Fleta stepped into the main chamber. There was Stile, sit ting frozen, only his eyes alive. His magic involved singing; he could not sing, and so was helpless. Fleta repressed her horror, and tiptoed toward Stile.

“Hold, mare.”

She jumped, turning to face the voice. It was Tan, awake!  Of course he had feigned sleep, to trick Al and lure them in here; now he had sprung his trap all too neatly.

“Look not at him!” Tania cried.

But it was already too late. The Adept’s gaze was on her, meeting her own. The volition drained from her body as his eyes loomed large.