Part 16 (1/2)

”Well, you are welcome to my company as long as you like it,” he said. ”I'm in no position to refuse it, even if I wanted to.”

There was a spot in the sky to the east. Fleta looked nervously at it. ”Mayhap just a bird,” she said. ”But if a harpy-”

”On a search-pattern for us,” he agreed. ”Where can I hide?” They were in open meadow; there was not even a substantial tree nearby.

”Take my socks,” she said.

”Your socks?”

'Take them,” she repeated urgently as the flying shape came closer. She became the unicorn.

”But Fleta, that's just the color of your fur on your hind feet! No way-”

She fluted at him. Mach shrugged and squatted to touch her hind leg. To his surprise he discovered that the golden color did come off; in a moment he held two bright socks, and Fleta's legs were black.

Fleta resumed human form. ”Put them on, quickly.”

Mach put them on over his shoes. And stood astonished.

His body changed. He now seemed to be a golden animal. A horse-or a unicorn. He could see illusory hindquarters behind him, and suspected that his head resembled that of a horse with a horn.

”Graze,” Fleta whispered, and changed back to equine form herself.

Mach leaned forward, trying to get his illusory head into the proper position for grazing. Evidently his performance was satisfactory, for Fleta did not correct him.

The flying form turned out to be a large bird, perhaps a vulture. It flew overhead and did not pause. False alarm, perhaps, but Mach was glad they hadn't taken the chance. If the Adepts interrogated the bird, all they would get was a report of two unicorns grazing in the field. Meanwhile he had learned another thing about his fascinating companion!

Fleta changed back to girl form. ”It was nothing, I think,” she said. ”But here we be dawdling when we should be traveling. Methinks I must carry thee, to make the distance.”

”But I don't want to burden you-”

”An we get spotted, how much greater a burden!” she exclaimed. She changed into unicorn form.

Mach realized that she was correct. Quickly he removed his socks and put them back on her feet; then he mounted her.

She started walking, then trotting, then galloping. Now they were moving like the wind, covering the ground far more rapidly than they had. She headed straight southwest, angling toward the distant Purple Mountain range. All he had to do was hang on.

She began to play on her horn, a lovely tune whose cadence was set by the beat of her falling hooves. Mach, delighted, picked up the melody and hummed along with her. His father was musical, and music was part of the Game, so Mach had trained on a number of instruments and learned to sing well. He had perfect pitch and tone as clear as an instrument could render it, being a machine himself, but it was more than that. Through music he could come closest to the illusion of life and true feeling. Now, of course, he really was alive, and this body had a power of voice almost as good as his own. So he hummed, first matching Fleta's tune, then developing counterpoint, and it seemed to facilitate her running. Unicorns, he realized, were made to play while moving. He knew that their combined melody was a kind of a work of art, for Fleta was very good and so was he. There was rare pleasure in this, despite the urgency of their traveling.

An hour pa.s.sed, and still she ran at a pace no horse could have maintained. Her music became less pretty, more determined. Her body became warm, but she did not sweat. Instead, he noted with surprise, her hooves got hot. Sparks flew from them when they touched the hard ground. She was dissipating heat through her hooves!

As evening closed, they were near the great mountains. Now at last Fleta slowed. Mach could tell from the way her body moved that she was extremely tired; she had covered a distance of perhaps three hundred kilometers in short order without respite. Her melody had faded out, the energy it expended now required for her running. Finally she stopped, and he jumped off, sore of arm, leg and crotch. He had learned bareback riding for the Game, but never this extreme!

They were near a grove of fruit trees, probably by no accident. ”Rest, Fleta!” he said. ”I'll forage for food!”

She didn't argue. She went under a tree, changed to girl form, and threw herself down as if unconscious.

Mach collected fruits and located a nearby spring. This was an ideal location!

Then he heard something. He flattened himself against a tree.

It turned out to be a party of what he took to be goblins. They were like gnarled little men, about half his own height, with huge and ugly heads, and correspondingly distorted hands and feet. ”d.a.m.n nuisance!” one was muttering as they pa.s.sed, traveling a faint forest trail. ”No unicorns here!”

”But we've got to check anyway,” another said.

The six of them trekked on. They hadn't spotted Mach; they hadn't really been looking. This was just a pointless a.s.signment to them; evidently they hadn't been told the reason for it. Mach relaxed.

”Hey, I see something!” one exclaimed.

Mach's living heart seemed to catapult to a crash-landing against his breastbone. Had they seen him?

No, they were hurrying away from him. He started to relax again.

”A doll!” a goblin cried.

They had spied Fleta!

”A d.a.m.n nymph!” another exclaimed. ”Sleepin' by a tree.”

”Well, let's have at her! Anything like that we catch-”

”That's no nymph,” another said. ”See the horn-b.u.t.ton in her forehead? That's a unicorn!”

Fleta woke. She tried to scramble to her feet, but they were upon her, grabbing at her arms and legs. ”Hold her horn!” the leader cried. ”So she can't change form!”

A goblin clapped a calloused hand on Fleta's forehead, covering the horn-b.u.t.ton. The others virtually wrapped themselves around her limbs, one to each. She struggled, but she was still very tired and they overwhelmed her.

Mach had noted all this as if detached; meanwhile he was charging to the rescue, drawing his axe. The goblins, preoccupied by their capture, did not see him.

”Now, mare, tell us where the man is, or we'll take turns raping you,” the leader said, yanking her cloak up. ”You animals don't like that much, do you!”

Fleta's forehead was covered, but not her eyes. She saw Mach charging in. ”No!” she cried. ”Not that way!”

But Mach was already committed. His axe swung down at the goblin-leader's head. The goblin turned, but too late; the axe chopped into his face, slicing off his nose.

The goblins were no cowards. They let Fleta go and pounced as one on Mach. Before he could get in a second blow, four of them were on his arms and legs. They had surprising power; they bore him back and down, spread-eagling him on the ground.

The goblin leader, amazingly, retained his feet. His nose was gone, but he seemed otherwise unbothered. ”That be him!” he exclaimed. ”The one we seek!”

Mach struggled, but the goblins were too strong for him. Now he understood why Fleta had tried to warn him off. She had known he could not handle these creatures. Who would have thought that monster's skull could be so hard as to make the axe shear off! For Mach knew he had scored directly on the goblin's forehead; had it been fas.h.i.+oned of ordinary stuff, the stone blade would have cut right in. Instead it had been turned aside by the super-hard bone, doing what was apparently only minor damage to the goblin's face. How could an ordinary man fight such creatures?

”Tie him up,” the leader said. ”I'd love to chew up his eyeb.a.l.l.s, but orders are orders. The Adept wants him intact. We'll have to content ourselves with the animal.” He looked about with sudden alarm. ”Who's holding her?”

”I am!” the sixth goblin cried. But though he still had his hands on Fleta's forehead, his touch nullifying the magic power of her horn, he was now the only one. Fleta's arms and legs were free, because the other four goblins were now holding Mach.

Fleta smiled. She reached up and grabbed the goblin's hands in her own, hauling them down while she straightened up. He might be stronger than she, but he could not keep his hands in place while she was moving her body. He needed more hands. In a moment her forehead was clear.

Abruptly she vanished. In her place was the hummingbird, and its buzz was quite angry. It darted at the goblin leader.

One of the goblins holding Mach began to laugh, for such a tiny creature could hardly hurt a goblin. But the laugh was cut off when the unicorn manifested almost in the leader's face. The forward motion of the bird translated into a plunge by the unicorn.