Sapphire (4 page)

“They’ve found you. We must leave!”

She scrambled back a little, looking for the
resonating female-like voice that seemed to come from all around.
She blinked rapidly as if the act would change what stood towering
above her. The black unicorn tossed its head.

“Ava,” the voice said.

This time she understood it had been the unicorn
speaking, though no audible sound had issued from it. She stared at
this bewildering phenomenon before her, awestruck and
frightened.

“Ava,” it said into her mind. “There will be more.
They will
kill
you!”

“What?” she whispered dumbly, still staring in
disbelief.

“We cannot delay. Get
up
. We
must
leave!”

The unicorn snorted, laid its ears back, and
suddenly grabbed her shirt with its teeth, lifting her to her feet.
She yelped with surprise and stumbled.

“Get on!” the unicorn bellowed.

Shawna felt detached from her body, her mind
drifting away from a reality–or a dream–she couldn’t comprehend.
The unicorn was speaking again and stamping the ground, but her
dazed mind didn’t hear it. Her eyes blankly stared past it to the
shadows moving around the edge of the house. The shadows looked
familiar. For a second she thought they were John and Mary, but
they were moving oddly. Their movements were jerky and erratic. A
blood-freezing screech ruptured the momentary peace and ripped
Shawna’s mind from its sanctuary. She finally let out a scream as
the moon revealed two emaciated human bodies with red eyes. They
shuffled and lurched forward, making shrill shrieking inhalations.
She felt paralyzed as they reached skeletal arms towards her,
emitting strange hissing sounds from behind lipless teeth.

The unicorn knelt down. Whether it was all a dream
or not, Shawna leapt onto its back. In an instant they were
galloping, pulverizing the parched earth beneath drumming hooves.
The world began to stretch as if sucked into the unicorn’s raven
coat. She felt vertigo, her vision swirled, then darkness wrapped
her in a fainting embrace.

Shawna awoke in a panic, then realized she was lying
in a very musty moth-eaten bed. Sunlight streamed in from grimy
glass panes. Through her bedside window, rolling green hills met a
vast forest stretching to the horizon.

“All right, my dear?”

She whirled around. An old, nearly toothless woman
was grinning at her. The woman looked like she used a swamp for
personal hygiene. Her matted gray hair hung with bracken, and
Shawna was certain she saw a frog peep out from a clump of
twigs.

“Nose swollen? Ears shriveled? Pox in your pits?”
croaked the old lady.

Shawna silently raised an eyebrow.

The crone looked disappointed. “Oh well,” she
sighed, leaning back in her cushioned chair. “Not all are blessed
with such afflictions. Some lose their minds and hop around
croaking like toads for the rest of their lives after going through
a portal like that. Feeling hoppy?”

“What is this?” Shawna said, scooting back against
the headboard.

The old woman just continued to peer at her through
layers of eyelid. Shawna was about to raise her voice to repeat
herself, then fell silent. A golden glittering haze floated in from
a window. As it came nearer, she saw that it was a tiny winged girl
wearing a dress of pink flower petals. She could hardly believe
what she was seeing.
Dream,
she told herself.
It’s a
dream. I’m dreaming.

The fairy fluttered just within arm’s reach, then,
“
achoo!
”

There was a puff of dusty gold as the fairy
violently sneezed herself into a spider web. The hag crowed with
laughter, but Shawna gasped when a large black spider excitedly
scurried towards its prey. The fairy swung up her leg and there was
a sharp,
smack,
as she kicked the spider from the web. It
made an audible, “eep,” as it fell and scurried away.

Shawna just sat there, stunned, while the crone
continued to cackle and snort. The chair looked ready to collapse
under the old lady’s convulsions of glee. The fairy daintily
extracted herself from her disgracing situation, and fluttered
over.

“Hellooo,” she said in a sweet sing-song voice as if
nothing at all had just happened.

She glided over to Shawna, still trailing spider
web, and alighted on a bedpost.

“I’m Lula, and that’s Capella,” said the fairy,
throwing a disgusted look at the old hag. “You probably think
you’ve lost your mind like
that
shriveled old harpy”—she
thumbed over her shoulder at Capella—“but don’t worry. You
haven’t.”

“
What
is going on?!” Shawna shouted.

Lula and Capella looked at each other as a loud
snort then a whistle came from above. Shawna slowly raised her eyes
to see a large pink bat hanging from the rafters. It was asleep and
making little whistles as it exhaled. Shawna bit her lip and stared
around warily at the strangers before her.

“Oh, she’s got
spice,
” said Capella, throwing
her arms out and back-handing Lula off the bedpost. “I like that.
She’ll be just fine. Well, besides the possibility of death.”

Lula unsteadily flew back to the post, rubbing her
head, and glaring furiously at the boisterous old crone.

“What are you talking about?” Shawna glowered. “This
is only a dream.” She looked around like everything would suddenly
dissolve and she’d wake up in her own bed.

“Actually, no, it is not.” Capella suddenly reached
out and flicked Shawna’s nose with a knobby finger.

Shawna jumped a mile, knocking her head against the
wall.

“See, not a dream.” Capella laughed.

Shawna wondered what she could use for self defense,
but saw nothing except dust and spider webs. While she sat there,
at a loss for words or action, a glossy black head with dark violet
eyes poked through the open window.

“She jests but means well,” echoed the unicorn’s
calming voice in her mind.

Flashes of memory from last night came back to her:
the creature, falling from the tree, red eyes, and…the black
unicorn.

“Poor little muskrat,” tittered Capella. “Her tongue
must have shriveled up, and she’s swallowed it.” She whacked Shawna
hard on the back.

With a choking cough, Shawna yelled something
incoherent and plastered herself against the wall, glaring
fiercely. Capella looked unimpressed.

“Good. Almost got your tongue back,” Capella said.
“I do, if need be, have methods of re-growing things. I once
re-grew a man’s eyes after they popped out of his head, and he can
see abso-
lute-
ly fine now.” She grinned which only made her
look more unconvincing.

“No he
can’t,
” said Lula. “You just gave him
one big eye.” She poked her own forehead. “Here.”

“Well,” said Capella, shifting in her seat, bones
and chair creaking together. “It was his own silly fault for
peeping at me while I was bathing in the waterfall.” She stuck her
nose in the air, hairs sticking out from her nostrils.

Lula rolled her eyes. The unicorn looked amused and
shook her mane. Shawna was staring at the only door, a few strides
behind Capella, wondering if she should make a run for it, when the
unicorn spoke to her in a calming tone.

“Come outside, Ava. There’s something I want you to
see.”

Shawna looked around, then realized the unicorn had
meant her. Some part of her mind tried to refuse and say,
no,
and my name is Shawna,
but she found herself standing. She
wanted nothing more than to obey the unicorn’s command. Not
glancing at Capella or Lula, she walked out into the sunlight.

Something furry and heavy plopped onto her head,
startling her from her fog of tranquility. She screamed like a
banshee as leathery wings frantically whacked her in the face. The
thing flopped from her head to the ground, flapping wildly.

“Sparkle!” snapped Capella, hobbling forward to
retrieve the hapless bat. “You stupid flying rat, the horse didn’t
mean you.”

Stunned, Shawna’s hands clutched her tangled hair.
She looked down at the pink fox-faced bat and its big brown eyes.
It looked so confused and dejected that she had a strange urge to
pick it up and comfort the poor thing. Capella stooped over,
wobbled a little, and scooped up the googily-eyed bat.

“Get it away from me. Get it away,” Shawna started
muttering until Lula piped up.

“Exactly what I said.” She crossed her tiny arms as
she hovered by the door. “If that bat comes near me again I’ll do
more than turn it pink.”

“You will, will you?” Capella said.

“Yes,” Lula threatened, hands on her hips. “I’ll
turn him into a cute, fuzzy, little
….bunny.”

Capella gasped in mock alarm. “You
wouldn’t.”

Lula narrowed her eyes. “
Bun-
nyyy.”

With a snort, Capella shuffled back over to Shawna
and peered at her through rheumy eyes.

“Sparkle likes to eat fairies.”

The bat squeaked in excitement at the word
fairy
as she bustled off, lovingly cradling him.

The unicorn stamped the ground with a front hoof.
“My apologies. My tone of voice can be…very persuasive.”

As the unicorn’s peaceful power washed over her once
more, Shawna began to relax. Her fidgeting hands dropped to her
sides.

“I’m really not dreaming?” she said, her eyes
scanning the very real landscape.

The unicorn stepped closer and she stepped back, a
bit intimidated by the large mythical creature.

“I wish you were, but I’m afraid this is more real
than the world you knew. Let me show you.”

Before she could react, a shining horn pricked her
forehead, and she was submerged into a vision.

“
You’ll be safe,” said a soothing masculine
voice.

Baby Shawna looked up from her crib as two strong
arms reached towards her.

“Stop!”

The arms withdrew. Shawna began to cry. She didn’t
like the sound of that demanding voice; it held a frigid arrogance
that frightened her. The man reeled around, fists clenched, his
face carved in lines of anger.

“You’ll regret this,” the woman spat.

“I will not let you take her,” said the man. “You
cursed us all! Can’t you see that?”

Shawna wailed even more loudly. She was choking on
her sobs, wishing for the soothing voice again. Her eyes fixated on
the man. His arms trembled as light coursed down his veins.

“You’ll destroy everything!” the woman shouted back.
“By letting her live we’ll all perish! What we’ve gained will be
lost. Look at yourself. You’re already closer to death.”

There was a blue flash, yells, explosions, and
marble rock was rumbling and raining down. The crib was overturned,
and she tumbled out in a cocoon of lavender scented blankets. Hands
grabbed and jostled her, but her cries were muffled in the sheets.
Someone was running with her down hallways and through rooms
flickering with firelight.

The person stopped, and a hand pulled the stifling
sheets from her tear-streaked face. It was the man, saying kind
words. Her sobs turned to hiccups, and she tried reaching for his
face, glad it was him. He tensed and whipped his head up. She
whined, feeling his apprehension. He held her closer.

“She finally understood,” said that female voice
again. “She agreed with what must be done.”

“You lie. What have you done with her? No one
believes your insanity anymore. You stand alone and you will fail.
I will see to that.”