Chapter Sixteen
The Last Unicorn
Gildas had been right. The flight was not only short, but moreover the views of Devorian from the air were breathtaking. To the north, the white mountains of the Far Reaches stretched into the pale blue sky as though they had been painted on an artist's canvas. As far as they could see to the west, thick green forests covered to the land like a plush carpet. In the east, the land ended and was replaced by a blue sea that stretched forever into the horizon. Finally, to the south, the forests gave way to plains and then, visible as little more than a yellow line, the Saar desert. The air they flew through was crisp, but the sunlight blanketed them and kept them warm.
The rocs flew fast and true, devouring the distance with every flap of their powerful wings. Gildas kept pace with them, having to beat his wings four times for every beat of theirs. Jack wished they could always have traveled this way, for it would have saved them much time, and also he would not have had to ride Aldair's sharp back. He wanted to speak with Gildas, to ask the magical beast about what would become of Aldair and Alcide, but the wind would have snatched his words away and so he remained quiet. Nor did his sisters try either.
They had been flying for almost two hours when the rocs began to slow the beating of their wings. Gildas left them to sweep low over the forest, flying so close to the treetops that he could have almost reached out one of his back feet and touched them. When he returned, he announced, "We are above the Green Forest. The place you seek is near. I can smell its magic; it is not magic that comes from Devorian."
Jack kept watching the sky before him and the endless sea of green treetops. Had he not been looking there, in fact, he would not have seen what followed, for it happened in an instant. From the forest below them, two figures shot into the air, moving so quickly they were little more than a blur. Jack could just make out their long, mottled gray wings before they streaked past him and collided with Gildas. Gildas screamed shrilly and began to grapple with them. Jack saw then that they were two birdlike people, with the wings, legs, and talons of birds and the unclothed upper bodies and heads of a man and a woman. The man sank his sharp, pointed teeth into the griffin's neck, his powerful gray arms wrapped around Gildas' body, while the woman raked her curved black talons against Gildas' back. Gildas rolled to avoid the woman, but could not shake the man off.
"Harpies! Go without me!" Gildas shouted, still rolling wildly and scratching with his own taloned feet, trying to dislodge the man while keeping the woman at bay.
The woman nimbly dodged Gildas' lion feet and grabbed onto his wing. The wing immobilized, Gildas immediately plummeted straight down toward the trees, breaking through the top layer and crashing through branch after branch on the way down. The children heard the thud of the landing, then thrashing and snarls as the fight continued, two against one. They did not see the outcome of the fight, however, for the rocs--which had slowed their flight when the harpies appeared--continued to fly on.
Barely a minute later, the rocs began circling to land. Jack looked down and saw the small clearing they were aiming for. It would be a tight fit between the three giant birds, but in the dense forest they were lucky to find a clearing at all. The roc he rode began to descend, but to land it had to raise its chest and flap out its wings. Unable to hold onto the smooth feathers of the bird as it did so, Jack tumbled from its back landed in a gymnastic roll that absorbed the impact of the fall. Mary Jane and Maude similarly tumbled from their rocs, though they met the ground with much less grace.
The children regained their feet and clustered together. The rocs left them then, rising majestically into the sky with the sound of feathers on air before disappearing from view. The children were alone in the forest.
"Oh my," Mary Jane said nervously. "How do we find the tree?"
"I don't know," Jack said, shaking his head.
"But I know," a familiar voice said beside them.
The children froze in fear. Out of the trees to their right stepped Mirrin. She was wrapped in her blood red cloak, her white hair flowing freely past her shoulders. Her pale face was flushed with triumph that burned like fire in her coal black eyes. She was flanked on either side by a harpy. The harpies were tall males, each over six feet tall and heavily muscled. Both were armed with double swords carried in sheaths strapped cross-wise over their backs, adding to the danger of their dagger-sharp talons and ripping teeth. They watched the children with inhuman yellow cat eyes.
"Oh no," Mary Jane whimpered.
"Such a journey you've had!" Mirrin exclaimed mockingly. "What fun! What adventure! But where are your protectors? Have they left you all alone?"
She walked closer to the children, the harpies trailing behind her obediently. Jack put his arm out protectively to shield his sisters. Mirrin paused and frowned at the gesture, then her eyes met his and she smirked unpleasantly.
"This is how it was always going to end," she told him. "All I had to do was wait for you to come to me."
Jack eyed the harpies nervously. One of them, seeing his glance, smiled viciously, baring its row of gleaming white teeth like shark's teeth. Mirrin continued to move closer until Mary Jane almost could have reached out and touched her.
"I win," Mirrin whispered to the children. "I will always win."
"We will never help you," Mary Jane said stubbornly, crossing her arms. "No matter what you do."
"You are in no position to refuse me," Mirrin reminded her lightly. "It seems that in the end, your defenders have deserted you. You are alone."
"Oy! You leave those children alone!" A gruff voice said unexpectedly.
Mirrin, the children, and the harpies all looked in the direction of the voice and saw a big badger lumber out of the woods.
"Mr. Bushy!" Maude cried with happy recognition.
Mirrin began to laugh.
"A badger? Shall I quake with fear before a little woodland creature? What will you do if I do not let the children go?" She asked him.
"You just let them go," the badger warned.
Mr. Bushy set himself between the children and the sorceress and, barely three feet tall standing on his back legs, snarled at her. Mirrin nodded to the harpy on her left and it stepped forward, pulling one of the swords from its back with the unmistakable sound of metal against metal. The harpy held the long sword out lazily before it, the sword's sharp tip pointing at the badger's throat. Mr. Bushy did not back down. He continued to growl loudly, all the hairs on his body standing on end.
"Silence the foolish creature," Mirrin commanded flatly.
The harpy drew back its blade to strike, but before it did Maude cried, "No! Let him go."
Mirrin reached out her hand and touched the harpy on the forearm to stop it from completing the thrust. The monster stopped, then brought the blade back to its previous position between it and the badger. Mirrin asked Maude, "If I let this animal go, will you come quietly and take me through the mirror?"
"If you let him go, we will," Maude agreed.
"A wise decision," Mirrin said.
"No, Maude!" Mary Jane cried. "We can't."
"It will be okay," Maude told her.
Then to the badger she said, "Mr. Bushy, go! Leave here!"
Mirrin nodded at the harpy and it smoothly returned the sword to its sheath. Mr. Bushy stood in place a moment more, uncertain. He stopped growling and fell to all four paws, his head swinging back and forth between the children and the sorceress. Maude knelt down beside the badger and hugged him. She whispered, "Go now. We'll be safe."
"I hope you're right," he said.
"I hope so too," Maude agreed.
Mr. Bushy nodded to the children and disappeared back into the forest. The children were left to face Mirrin alone.
"Come," Mirrin snapped, turning upon her heel and striding into the forest.
The harpies stood still as statues, their faces blank and their eerie yellow eyes staring at the children. The children understood clearly that they were to follow the
sorceress, the harpies escorting them. Jack led the way with a heavy heart and weak legs. He felt overwhelmed by despair and a sick feeling that soon he would not only be helping Mirrin to enter his world, but it would be done through the attic of his very own house! The harpies fell into step behind them, their sharply taloned feet silent as they walked, cutting off all hope of escape.