Unicorn Point

Flach grew pensive again as they approached the Blue Demesnes. He had been joyful only when squelching the dragon, Neysa realized in retrospect; at other times he had seemed subdued or preoccupied. She had assumed this was because of his loss of freedom. He had, she judged, really liked being among the werewolves, and was more than somewhat smitten with the dark-furred bitch whom he had Promised. Naturally it was depressing to leave those friends who had supported him so loyally. But he liked Neysa and his human grandparents too; that was obvious. Why, then, did he seem reluctant to join Stile and the Lady Blue?

Well, perhaps he felt guilty for hiding, these four years. It had been a joint conspiracy, but he had kept his location secret from Stile as well as the Adverse Adepts. Yet he had had to do that; they all knew that. Any contact with Stile would have been intercepted by the Adepts, and led them to him. So that could not be it.

They arrived, and Flach greeted his grandparents with genuine enthusiasm. Neysa, assuming human form to enter the castle, thought she had been mistaken; Flach was after all glad to be here, despite his changed status.  The first evening all seemed well. The boy told of his experience among the wolves, and of the adventure with the dragon. Stile laughed aloud, remembering the way of the frame of Proton, and the Lady smiled; Then they had a good meal, and Flach confessed to being tired, and he went early to bed, attended by the Lady.

Now Stile looked grim. “He’s changed,” he said.

“Aye.” Neysa had never been much for human speech, but this much had to be said.

“But in four years, that is to be expected. He has grown, and learned much, and recently been separated from those he has come to know and love as well as he loves us.”

“Aye.”

“I checked him for enchantments. There are none on him. The Adepts appear to be abiding by the rules.”

Neysa nodded. She was perversely glad that he had noted it too; it meant she hadn’t imagined the problem. Indeed, perhaps it was as he supposed, merely the effect of separation and aging.

The Lady returned. “There be a geis on him,” she said.

“Nay,” Stile said. “No magic.”

“There be a geis,” she repeated.

It made sense to Neysa. A geis was a kind of obligation, imposed either magically or by honor. It restricted a person in some way, so that he could not perform with his normal freedom.

“He be prisoner now,” Stile said. “We all be glad to have him, and will treat him well, but this be not o’ his choice or ours. Also, the Adepts have access to the Book o’ Magic while he be here, so be gaining power after the years o’ impasse. That could depress him.”

“Mayhap,” the Lady agreed noncommittally.  They retired, and Neysa went out to graze; that was always her preference for the night. But her thoughts continued to turn on the boy. The Lady was right: something was wrong.  Perhaps it was only his abrupt change of situation. Perhaps it was more.

In the morning Stile talked with Flach privately. Later he turned the boy over to Neysa for a ride around the premises.

This was of course worthwhile, but Neysa knew that Stile wished to talk privately with the Lady. Something was certainly wrong.

Later, the Lady told Neysa the problem: “Stile meant to have Flach commune with his other self in Proton, to establish a dialogue and initiate an exchange o’ information. In this manner may we keep pace with the Adepts and Citizens, that we maintain our position. But Flach says he can not. It seems the girl be not available.”

Neysa considered that. She had understood that Flach and Nepe could communicate with each other across the frames regardless of their geographic positions. They had demonstrated this, when trying to escape the Adept cordon around the Pack. How could they be unable to do this now?  She mulled it over the following night, consciously or unconsciously, but came to no reasonable conclusion. She was sure that Nepe in the other frame would be treated well, as Flach was in this one, because the agreement was the same there: while she visited her grandparents, the Citizens had access to the Oracle. The Adepts and Citizens had waited for four years to restore this arrangement; they would not do anything to interrupt it again.

Unless Nepe had somehow managed to hide again—even from Flach? How could she do that?

As dawn brightened, she had an answer: by going to another scientific planet! Flach could reach her anywhere on Proton, but surely not away from there. She could have some how sneaked away on one of their ships of space! That would mean that the enemy was not making progress after all, be cause Citizen Blue would not let them near the Oracle unless they produced Nepe. And Flach, if he knew where she was, would not tell, for that would give her away. If he could contact her where she hid, he would not, because the Adepts would be watching for that magic, and find her as they had before, through him.