Unicorn Point

“Not if thou wast in thy firefly form,” he countered.  She hoped she would not regret this, but she did want him to get experience. She could resume her natural form if any threat manifested. Actually, the Adepts were watching; they would act if they thought it necessary. She wanted to keep them out of this, but it was a kind of reassurance.  She assumed firefly form, hovering in the air. He became a unicorn again. She flew to his head and perched between his ears, near his horn, clinging to his forelock.  He started off, going west, toward the Herd. At first his gait was irregular, but gradually he got it into shape and his stride became steadier. Practice would improve this, too.  But soon a dragon appeared, flying up from the south. It spied what it took to be a young, inexperienced unicorn, and came in for some fun and perhaps a meal. It was not large, and would have been no threat to Neysa herself, but she wasn’t sure about Flach. She moved, getting ready to take off, so she could get clear of him and assume her natural form.

“Nay, Granddam!” he protested in passable horn talk. “Let me handle it.”

He had big ambitions! If he was no better using his horn for combat than he had been using it for music at first, that dragon would make short work of him. Still, she could act at the last moment if she had to. She remained in place.

The dragon circled once, making sure that this young uni corn was as isolated as he looked. Then it lined up for a strafing run, its fire building.

Flach played a strange melody on his horn, fouling it up with attempted horn talk. Then she realized that he was trying to make magic. As a human being, he could do magic, and he had been learning spells four years before. Surely he had continued to think about them during his long hiatus as a werewolf. Now he had a chance to use what he had devised.  But to attempt it in ‘corn form—that was odd indeed! Could it possibly work?

A cloud formed above them. It expanded rapidly, pulsing with sickly colors. From this angle it was hard to tell exactly what its whole shape was, but it seemed rather like—yes, a floating human head! It had a wild tangle of yellow hair that fuzzed into invisible vapor, and two great red eyes, a bulbous nose, and a huge purple mouth-orifice with enormous buck teeth.

The dragon saw this apparition, and veered aside. Had something come to help the unicorn? But it circled back, realizing that there was no solidity to the thing. What was not solid could not hurt, and could be ignored.  The dragon came in again, and this time there was no doubt it meant business. The fire was starting to come; in a moment things would be very hot here! Neysa spread her wings.

“Nay, Granddam!” Flach protested. “I be ready!” Quite nervous now, she nevertheless remained clinging to his forelock. What did this foolish child have in mind?  Flach blew another horn-talk melody. The apparition’s grotesque mouth pursed. From it spurted a gush of green liquid.  The stuff hurtled toward the dragon. Before the creature could react, the jet splashed into its snoot.  The dragon let out a growl of surprise and dismay. It wavered crazily in the air, abruptly clawing at its head. The green stuff was not splattering free; it was clinging gelatinously, cutting off the dragon’s breath. Its fire, stifled, whooshed out without direction.

And the liquid clung even to the fire, forming huge bubbles. The dragon inhaled—and the green goo was sucked in too, causing it to choke.

Neysa could wait no longer. She spread her wings, took off, flew to the side, and resumed unicorn form. “What be that green?” she demanded in horn talk.

“Lime gelatin,” Flach replied. “Nepe told me o’ it. It be used in Proton to wrestle in, or to mate in, or as a Conse quence when someone loses a wager.”

“Gelatin?” It was not possible to be as specific in horn talk as in human talk; she did not know of this substance.

“Well, it be not exactly that, but an imitation that be yet gunkier,” he honked with childish relish. “It clings awfully, and makes bubbles, and just gets worse as it dries. She says it be water-soluble, so washes off readily, but methinks the dragon will think not to wash.”

Indeed, the dragon was not thinking of water at all. It veered almost into a tree, barely dodged it, and flew up, still scratching at its nose. Bubbles of gelatin were all around it, making it look even more grotesque than the fog-face.  Neysa was not much for practical jokes, but she had to admit that this was a rare prank to play on a dragon. The boy was a child; he had done a childish thing. But it had been effective, and that was what counted.

All the same, she decided to resume the regular mode of travel. Flach returned to human form, and she carried him on to the Herd.