Unicorn Point

But he had come to understand that it was the other way around. The Book had spells that were even better in the other frame than here, and the Adepts over there—the Con trary Citizens—were getting very strong. Before long they would be stronger than Grandpa Stile and his friends, or rather, Nepe’s Grandpa Blue, really the same thing. So now he felt guilty about the fun he had visiting, knowing that it was costing his grandfather a lot. Maybe it was time to stop the visits.

These thoughts were fleeting, however, for Granddam Neysa moved rapidly. She was old, but still strong, and her black hide was glossy. He liked her about as well as he liked Grandpa Stile. She never talked much, but she was great for traveling in the wilderness, and he always felt safe with her.  Mach lifted him up to sit astride the unicorn. He needed no saddle; it was not that he was an apt rider, but that she would never let him fall. “See you later, crocogator,” Mach quipped, smiling. He always had something fun-stupid like that to say, from his memories of the other frame.  “In a while, allidile,” Flach responded dutifully.

Then Neysa was off, Flach clinging to her flaring mane.  She moved slowly at first, making sure that he was secure, but gradually picked up speed.

They bore west, heading for the Blue Demesnes, where Flach was to have a week’s visit with his grandparents on the human side. But as they passed through a section of forest, Neysa sounded her horn.

Flach had been trained in horn talk. He understood immediately. She had just told him that now was the time to act.

He did not acknowledge directly. He knew that they were being watched; they were always watched. He merely squeezed his knees to her sides, acknowledging. Then, as they emerged to an open region, he spoke. “Granddam Neysa, I have to pee. Can we stop?”

The unicorn slowed and halted. Flach slid off her back.  She assumed human form. “Why didn’t you see to that be fore we started?” she asked, with timeless annoyance.

“Didn’t have to go, then,” he said, walking to a head-high patch of bushes.

She returned to equine form and made a snort of resignation. She took the opportunity to graze the lush grass here, keeping an eye out for any danger.

Flach wedged his way into the bush, reached for his trousers, looked back, and sang a spot spell:

Privacy

While I pee

The air clouded around him, so that his body was hidden.  In the privacy of that cloud he did open his trousers and urinate. But he also used his free hand to work something out of the lining of his trousers, and set it in his jacket pocket where he could readily put his hand on it. It was a figure like a doll that looked just like him, complete to the outfit he normally wore for traveling: blue jacket, blue trousers, and blue socks and shoes.

His tasks completed, he stepped out of the bushes, and the fog surrounding him dissipated. He returned to Neysa. She walked to a nearby log, so that he could climb up on it and mount her from that height. Then they resumed their journey.  There was nothing to indicate that a significant action had been started.

Grandpa Stile had coached him carefully on this. Anything he wished known he could do openly, and anything he wished to keep secret he had to cover in some way. So he had brought out the amulet doll under cover of the privacy spell, and he communed with Nepe only when Mach and Bane were communing across the frames, and he did secret magic only when some similar magic was being done in the region. That way, Stile had explained, the traces were covered. His best protection was secrecy, so that no one suspected what he could do.  It had been a game, and fun; now it was serious.  He was about to go into hiding. Stile had told him how, and Neysa would help him, but he had to go where neither of them knew, and remain hidden until he was big and strong and talented enough to survive alone. He knew that would be a long time, so he concentrated on doing the best job of hiding he possibly could.

“Granddam,” he said after a suitable interval had elapsed, so that there would seem to be no connection with her note of information or his pause for nature. “I’m bored with this same old route. Can we go by the wolves and ‘corns?” Neysa blew a note of caution.

“Oh, I don’t mean to stay long, just to pass by and say hi.” He smiled, because his rhyme caused a little atmospheric effect; it thought he was doing magic. “It won’t take long, honest, and besides, you can see your friends too. I’ve never met the Pack you know so well.”