The Darkest Unicorn Page 8

  He leaned back on his arms with exaggerated casualness and Thandie fought the urge to laugh. She thought of common fears. Her mother had disliked all rodents. “What about rats?”

  “No. Fluffy little things. Mice and rats have run over me in droves during the night when I’m sleeping. They don’t bother me. They are quite intelligent creatures and they have more to fear from humans than the other way around. I even worked as a rat-catcher for a while.”

  “Really?” Thandie couldn’t imagine Sander holding down any job, especially such an unexciting one.

  “Yes, I charmed them away with my music, led them to the river to drown. I was paid handsomely for that.”

  Thandie pulled a face. “Charming indeed. How about spiders?” Hetty feared spiders.

  “No, also fluffy little things! Mind you, I’ve seen spiders as big as your head. As big as dinner plates. They are simply living things making their own way in the world.”

  It seemed highly unlikely to Thandie that he’d seen spiders that size, but she didn’t challenge him as there was no way to prove or disprove it. She thought of Tib refusing to sit near the edge of the roof. “Heights?”

  Sander shook his head. “I promise you, I fear nothing. Not heights, nor water, nor enclosed spaces. I have no internal voice telling me to be careful or to hold back. I have no family to worry about me: I can take risks knowing that there will be no one to mourn me when I’m gone. That is the secret to being brave: having nothing to lose.”

  Thandie thought for a moment. “I don’t agree.”

  Sander grinned. “I suspect that you never do.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

  Sander yawned. “Why?”

  “I think real bravery is fighting for other people. To protect them or keep them from harm. That’s why I can be brave. For other people. That’s why I am on this quest. I want to make sure that Essendor is safe for others.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “What?”

  “Are you sure that’s why you are on this quest?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At least I am honest about my selfishness. Maybe you need to admit to yourself that you have your own reasons for wanting to go on this particular adventure—”

  “—I do not have any hidden reasons!” objected Thandie.

  Sander yawned. “Whatever you want to tell yourself. Anyway, I am far too tired to chat right now.” He lay down on his blanket and put his hat over his face, ending the conversation.

  Thandie gritted her teeth. She’d like to squash that stupid hat right into his face. Or strike him with one of those enormous spiders that he claimed to have seen. He was exasperating. What right had he got to question her reasons for being on this quest?

  One way or another he still hadn’t revealed what he was frightened of, and she knew there must be something, as well as the mighty unicorn in the clouds. They were going to be travelling together for days. Thandie suspected that by the end of the journey, she would know what that something was.

  AWAKE

  Thandie

  Sander seemed to fall asleep within minutes. Thandie did not. She was so tired that she felt she had been awake forever and could no longer remember how to sleep. She lay on her back, then her side and then her stomach, but couldn’t find a comfortable position. If she didn’t get a couple of hours sleep, then the long walk the next day would be unbearable. But knowing that somehow made it worse.

  When her mother had first gone missing, Thandie had found it hard to sleep. It had been night-time when she had disappeared, so seven-year-old Thandie imagined that she might also return at night. She had lain in bed, eyes wide open, trying desperately to stay awake, but sleep always crept up on her in the end. She would wake in the morning, cross with herself, and vowing to try harder the next night.

  Now, lying out in the open air in the early hours of the morning, her weary eyes remained stubbornly wide and sleep did not come. Her mind drifted back to Essendor. In just a couple of hours, the Tilbury household would begin to awaken. Tib was always first, running down the stairs to use the outhouse, his feet banging on the wooden stairs acting as a morning wake-up call for everyone else. Would they keep their promise to wait until morning before saying anything, or would Hetty’s naturally obedient instinct kick in before then? Perhaps she had alerted Madam Tilbury as soon as she left and they were already on their trail.

  Thandie sighed. She didn’t want to be thinking about any of this right now. She looked over at Sander, who remained flat on his back, hat over his face, snoring growing louder by the minute. So much for his claims that he would react if a choker snake came to investigate; he probably wouldn’t notice until it was wrapped three times around his neck. It crossed her mind that she could get up now and tiptoe away. In about two hours, if she walked quickly, she would be back in Essendor in time to meet Tib running down the stairs. The thought was highly tempting. But she was here for a reason, and although she may have made her decision to leave on a whim, it was still an important reason: she would rescue the stolen ones. It would not be easy, but, like all challenges, it would be worth it.

  Thandie just needed to sleep. She looked across at Sander once more. He was obviously used to sleeping outdoors. Maybe a hat over the face was the secret. Thandie didn’t have a hat but she reached into her bag and pulled out a clean dress, which she draped across her face, over her lightly closed eyes. It was certainly darker, but she didn’t like the feeling of her face being covered, and after a few minutes she removed it.

  The sun was rising higher and it was unquestionably light now. Thandie decided to give up on the idea of sleep. She reached into the pocket of her dress for her little leather-bound diary and pencil stub. She sat up, still huddled in her blanket, turned to a fresh page and began to write. Words flowed easily. She had a lot to say: so much to record. Hetty’s dare last night and her solitary walk through the forest, meeting Sander outside the castle walls, her decision to leave Essendor.

  She looked up for a second, chewing the end of her pencil and trying to remember the exact journey they had taken to this point. It was important for her to get these details right.

  Sander was awake, she realized suddenly. He had shifted his hat off his face while she had been writing and was now watching her.

  She scribbled a couple more words to complete her sentence, then turned the page so that her writing was hidden away.

  Sander continued to watch her. “Why do you write in that little book?”

  “It’s my diary.”

  “I guessed that, but why do you write in it?”

  Thandie sighed. “A couple of reasons. One is that it clears my head. If I get my cluttered thoughts on to the page then they stop swirling around in my head and stopping me from sleeping. You should try it.”

  “I’m not much of a writer. Anyway, I don’t have any problems sleeping.”

  “I’d noticed.”

  “What’s the other reason?”

  “I suppose … I like to have a record of what I’ve done each day.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t always trust my memory. Memories fade, and people remember selective events. Sometimes it is hard to know if it is a real memory or just a family story that has been told so many times it feels real. I prefer facts. When it’s written in this book, I know what’s real and what is not.”

  “But don’t facts sometimes depend on your point of view? My story of yesterday’s events might be very different to yours.”

  Thandie considered this. “No! Our stories might be different but surely there are certain concrete facts that remain the same? You can’t just argue them away. You really should try it, you know. You have plenty of stories to tell, do you not?”

  “My stories are all stored away up here,” said Sander, tapping the side of his head.

  “But if I asked you what amazing sight you discovered last Wednesday, would you be able to tell me?

  “Last Wednesday… Y
es, it was a memorable day. I climbed the tallest tree in the kingdom. A splendid rare Bronzewood out by the coast, known by the locals as the Sun Giant. The first part of the climb – up the long trunk - was the most difficult. Once I was up in the leaves it was easy. I had such a view. I swear I could see the whole kingdom—”

  “—Last Wednesday was just an example,” interrupted Thandie. She didn’t particularly want to hear another one of Sander’s adventure stories when she was trying to make a point. “What about on just an ordinary day, when you’re not climbing altitudinous trees?”

  Sander gave a full body stretch, with his arms right out above his head, which made Thandie jealous of his good night’s sleep all over again.

  “I can tell you read a lot of books when you use words like altitudinous. But the problem is, ordinary folk like me don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Thandie narrowed her eyes. She suspected that Sander knew exactly what she was talking about. “Tall, then. What about on just an ordinary day, when you’re not climbing very tall trees?”

  “The thing about the life I lead is that there is no ordinary day.”

  Thandie folded her arms. “But will you be able to remember all these exciting adventures ten years from now?”

  Sander sat up. “The question is, will I want to? Some people want to record their life experiences so that they can look back in years to come and convince themselves that they had a life worth living. But I am not that type of person. I am much more interested in the here and now. I am interested in living life to its absolute fullest and I never plan to stop living it.”

  “You will do whatever you want?”

  “Yes.”

  “Without a thought for anyone else?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you are claiming to be an entirely selfish person?”

  Sander laughed, stood up and replaced his hat back on his head. “I suppose I am. So what exactly are you writing about this morning?” He peered at her diary.

  Thandie snapped the book shut and wound the leather thong around it. “At this very moment I am not writing a thing because my peace is being constantly interrupted by trivial questions.”

  Sander grinned. “Are you writing about me?”

  Thandie shook her head. She was used to Hetty thinking that the whole diary was about her and now she had Sander thinking it was all about him. Really there were only so many pages in the book. She tucked it away in the pocket of her dress, under the blanket. “What I write about is my own business and need not concern you.”

  “You are writing about me.” He grinned and crossed his arms.

  Thandie clenched her fists, resisting the urge to scream at him.

  “You really are self-absorbed, aren’t you? Of course I mention you in passing as you are my only companion on this journey. But I can assure you I don’t dwell long on any people in my diary. I am more interested in events. I have finished writing for this morning, anyway.”

  Sander stretched one leg out in front of him, and then the other. “Well I’m glad, as we will be too busy walking for more writing.”

  “Good. I hope we will have limited time for talking as well, otherwise I may have a headache by this afternoon.”

  Sander laughed again. “It depends how fit you are feeling. If we keep up a steady pace, we should be in Arvale in three days’ time.

  THE DAWN CHORUS

  Thandie

  As it turned out, there wasn’t much talking on their walk to Arvale. Sander kept up a swift pace, striding ahead, and Thandie concentrated on keeping up. He was presumably used to walking alone and didn’t want to chat every step of the way. She still had questions she wanted to ask about the unicorn, like how he spoke and what exactly he had said to Sander that day he had discovered Linnell. But it could wait. For now.

  Instead, Thandie focused on the changing scenery. It didn’t take them long to reach the Grey Mountain. She had always gazed at the mountain from Essendor and wondered what it would be like to clamber on the rocks, and now she knew.

  Although they weren’t going up and over the mountain, but around, it was still exhausting. The path disappeared in places and they had to climb their way over the jagged rocks, stopping only briefly for lunch. As they progressed, the grey terrain became much greener, indicating that they had reached the other side. They were on one side of a circular mountain range, surrounding a lush green valley and a cluster of lakes.

  They found a sheltered spot to camp on the green mountainside, by some low bushes. The sun had already disappeared behind the mountain peaks, and evening was upon them earlier than in Essendor. Thandie was ready to sleep almost as soon as she had eaten. That night she did not have any problems getting so sleep, and drifted off almost as soon as she lay her head down.

  Despite her exhaustion, she woke early, practically as the sun rose, enjoyed the buzzing and chirping of the crickets, which grew gradually louder as she came to. She always woke early back at Madam Tilbury’s but she was used to the sounds there – the crow of her neighbour’s cockerel and the famers calling to one another as they left for the fields. But sleeping outside, the sounds of nature were ten times louder than inside Madam Tilbury’s little cottage.

  There was also the sound of Sander’s pipe. He was playing so softly and strangely, that it blended in to the natural sounds, like a different bird. For a few moments, Thandie shut her eyes, just to enjoy the music. And then the real birds started singing.

  After a while she opened her eyes and sat up, pulling her blankets around her. The view was the most beautiful she’d ever seen. The moon was still out, mysterious and white in the grey and cloudy morning sky. She could barely see the lake from where they were but the shape of the pine trees was clear, such a dark green that they were nearly black. Distant bird calls rang out in the mountain air. She tried to identify the chirrups and twitters and recognized the chiffchaff and the trill of a bluebird. Other than that, she couldn’t untangle one sound from another. Finch would know. He even knew what the birdcall meant – whether they were singing a song to attract a mate, or as a warning. She wondered if Finch, Hetty and Tib were missing her as much as she missed them. She would like to tell them about this stunning morning.

  It was a treat for her eyes as well as her ears. The sky was lightening, with yellow patches breaking the cloud cover, and a rose pink streak near the horizon.

  Sander was silhouetted against the pink sky. He stopped playing and put his pipe down.

  “Astounding,” said Thandie. “The birds must sing because of the beauty of the sunrise.”

  Sander smiled. “No. You have it the wrong way around. It is the beauty of the birdsong that makes the sun rise.”

  Thandie took a moment to let this sink in. Sander really did love his music. “Where did you learn to play the pipe so well?”

  “By listening to the trees, the birds and the babbling brook.”

  Thandie sighed, stood up and threw a pebble down the mountainside. “Can you please give me the real answer? Not your I am an adventurer of the world answer.”

  Sander raised both eyebrows. “That is the real answer. Well, sort of. Once I had learned the fundamentals – how to blow into the instrument and play the basic notes – I listened to the sounds of nature. To me, the rhythms of life provide the real music.”

  Thandie laughed. “What I meant was, who taught you to blow into the instrument and play the basic notes?”

  Sander sighed. “One of my brothers.”

  “And do you have many brothers?”

  “A handful.”

  “Do you get on?”

  “We got on … like brothers, I suppose. Sometimes we got on very well but about half the time we wanted to throttle each other, you know?”

  Thandie didn’t know. She had no brothers or sisters. But strangely enough, Hetty jumped straight into her thoughts. She wanted to throttle Hetty more than half the time. Probably about eighty percent. But since she had been away, she missed Hetty
more than she thought possible. Like a sister, perhaps.

  “Are they older or younger than you?”

  Sander sighed again. “That is not an easy question to answer.”

  “How can it be a difficult question?”

  “I no longer see my family.”

  Sander picked up his pipe once again and began to play a complicated tune. Thandie guessed that was the end of this particular conversation. He was frustrating. But then she didn’t say much about her family either. Maybe some of his memories, like hers, were too painful to discuss.

  Moments later he lowered his pipe. “Do you play?”

  Thandie laughed. “A little. My mother taught me. I can play some basic notes, as you would say, but that’s about it.”

  Sander smiled and handed her the pipe. “In that case, I have an exercise for you. Can you play the notes B and A?”

  Thandie nodded. They were the first notes she’d been taught. She played, just as her mother had taught her, pressing her fingers carefully over the holes so the notes didn’t squeak. Her mother’s voice played in her memory. “Firm fingers, Thandie!” She was quite pleased with the results, considering that she hadn’t picked up a pipe in about three years.

  But Sander didn’t look unduly impressed. “Now, put that down and listen to the birds again.”

  Thandie put the pipe down. “They sound lovely – but I said that earlier.”

  “Shhh! Really pay attention. Find a single voice in the chorus.”

  Thandie listened. She heard one particular bird trilling in short bursts, sounding a little like a flute. “I can hear one. I think it’s a blackbird.”

  Sander nodded. “He is in fine voice this morning. Now play those notes again. But this time don’t think about how hard you are pressing your fingers into the holes or how hard you are blowing. Just think about that blackbird up in the tree. Call to him.”

  Thandie laughed. Call to a bird? She felt a little foolish, but did as she was told and thought about the bird as she played. She played the notes more lightly, somehow. A new rhythm came to mind and she played it a few times and then stopped. The birdcall started up again, in the distance, as if in response. Thandie and Sander both laughed. Then the bird sang again.