Read Online Unicorn Point by Piers Anthony - Free Book Online Page A

Under Stile’s guidance he had mastered two more forms, but concealed them; this would be the first time he used either out in the open. That made him nervous, but he quelled it as well as he could, because he knew that if he messed up, there would be more trouble than he could imag ine, for him and Grandpa Stile and all the Adepts who sided with him.
    Abruptly he felt the contact of Mach and Bane across the frames. They were orienting on each other, so as to overlap in space, so that they could exchange. They usually conversed for a time first, setting things straight between them.   Flach knew what to do.
    Nepe! he called in thought.   After a moment she responded. I hear you, Flach. I was specting you, ‘cause they ‘re transfring.  
    It be time to hide! he thought. Be thou ready?
    Better be! she responded. Then: Oh, Flach, I’m afraid!
    Me too! But Neysa told me, and needs must we do it.   We ‘ve got to do it, she agreed. Now he felt the fear in her, washing across the contact between the frames.   Needs must be we brave, he thought.
    Do you have some bravry for me?
    He had to smile, though he was taut with the reality of what they were about to do. Here be some o’ mine, Nepe!   And he sent her a wash of emotion, as positive as he could manage.
    Oh, thank you, brother self! she thought back. It really seemed to have helped.
    He could tell by the feel that their fathers were about to break off communication and make their exchange of identities. Till -we mind again, sister self! he thought.  
    Till we mind again!
    Then they broke, for it was not safe to push the limits, and they had covered the essence. Nepe’s presence faded from his mind, and he felt a swell of loneliness, as he always did. She was his other self, closer than any other person in either frame, and he felt whole when he was in touch with her, and empty when they separated. That was the way it always was.   But now he had to concentrate on his own situation. There were things he had to do, and do right. He could not afford to be concerned about his lost other self. Not right now.   As he rode, he risked one minor bit of magic: he made a spell to modify his smell. He had figured this aspect out for himself and was rather proud of it; this spell should go unnoticed because it was so inconsequential and seemingly pointless. But he had his reason. It would wear off within the hour, but that should be enough.
    Neysa was traveling rapidly, as only a unicorn could, and soon enough reached the Were Demesnes. Two wolves charged out to intercept her, growling; then they recognized her and became an escort instead. Neysa was the friend of every member of this Pack, because of a spell Stile had wrought long ago. The younger wolves were not bound directly by it, because they had been whelped after it, but their sires and bitches had impressed the situation on them. In deed, the entire lasting truce between Pack and Herd had dated from that Oath of Friendship Stile had made. They had doubted his status as Adept before then; none had doubted it since.
    Flach wished he could have seen those great old events happening, for he was sure there would never be any to match them in his lifetime. For one thing, the raw power of magic was only half what it once had been, though that made no difference in Phaze because all Adepts had been depleted equally, and other creatures never had used magic of full potency. Probably if Grandpa Stile made a similar oath today, it would affect only half the Pack and Herd, or maybe only half as strongly, but who would know the difference?   The escort wolves guided them to the current haunt of the Pack, and old Kurrelgyre came out to greet Neysa. The wolf was white around the muzzle, but still strong; his time to be torn apart by the Pack was not yet. Not quite yet. His time would have passed before now, but Stile had seen to his con tinuing strength.
    Neysa played a greeting on her horn, indicating that this was only a passing