Unicorn's Peril

The discovery of a wounded unicorn on his father‟s farm sparks a series of events Logan couldn‟t even fathom in his wildest dreams. Through this unicorn, he is confronted with sexual suggestion, magic and the promise of power. Logan and his brother Blake are quickly plunged into a world consumed by greed, lust and revenge. A world dominated by an ancient war between the unicorns and the centaurs. Can Blake save his brother from the unicorn‟s grasp before it‟s too late? Or more importantly, can Logan see what is happening to him as he is subjected to more and more unicorn magic?

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Unicorn’s Peril Copyright © 2010 Mark Alders ISBN: 978-1-55487-684-6 Cover art by Angela Waters All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books Look for us online at: www.eXtasybooks.com

Unicorn’s Peril The Keeper of the Land Series Book One

By Mark Alders

Dedication This book is dedicated to my Family.

Chapter One

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he crows were silent. Logan tried to find the cause of the crows‟ silence, but couldn‟t. Struck by the distinct absence of their salient calls, he couldn‟t help but be curious as to why. He lifted his hand to shade his eyes in an attempt to help him see. He snorted, then sucked in the air that seared and stifled, uncomfortable inside his nostrils when he inhaled. He coughed on, not only from the heat, but the dust that mingled and danced with it as well. Looking to the horizon through bleary eyes, he could just make out the crows. The birds shimmered inside the distant heat-haze like black kites behind frosted glass. They flew in circles above the old banksias that bordered what was once lush grazing field before the drought began. Those banksias were a welcome splash of green against the massive fields of dead, gold grass. Disappointed that he still couldn‟t tell what was there, he returned to his work. Deep in thought, for it would plague him for the rest of the day until he could see what the crows already knew, he busied himself once more. He released the lock on the back flap of his truck‟s tray and it jerked open with a metallic clatter. That alone was enough to alert the gathering sheep and they bleated, demanding to be fed. Logan‟s thoughts were not in the moment and he drew his mind back to the events of the morning. He sensed something wasn‟t right the moment he woke. The day, even though normal in every other respect, felt different. The sky was azure and cloudless, the land hot and dusty and work had to be done. But something was amiss. The silent crows confirmed his already nagging suspicions. That, and the fact the kangaroos didn‟t graze on the greener grasses by the homestead this morning, nor were the pink and grey galahs taking their bath by the dam. Sweat had gathered under his eyes and was dripping off his nose, magnifying the uncomfortable heat of late morning. His hands, grimy from hours of toil, were made dirtier when he attempted to wipe away his perspiration, streaking his face with grime. Logan plucked up the shirt he had

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Mark Alders placed on the roof of his truck‟s cabin hours ago and wiped both his hands and his brow with the same vigour. The dirt and grime soaked into the flannel material, relieving him for a brief moment. He continued with his work. Today, his body performed the labour, but he was thinking, almost to the point of distraction, about what was down in the banksia grove that was demanding so much attention by those silent crows. They seemed to be calling him and he couldn‟t explain why he was getting that feeling. It was like someone or something was pulling at his soul, forcing him to go to the grove, for some reason. Logan cut a strap that held the hay bale together and it twanged. Hay spilled out onto the deck of the truck and he kicked the loose feed to the ground among the bleating, hungry sheep. This season had been dry and substituting the stocks feed was a necessity not a luxury. Dust whipped and eddied around him as the hay fell from the tray, but he tried to dismiss the unforgiving breeze as it tangled with the loose straw and struck his bare back. It was an easterly wind, fresh off the desert, offering no relief from the heat. Clambering off the back of the truck, pushing sheep aside as they ate the feed as quick as possible, he made his way to the cab, so he could drive to the next feed station. The sound of their digestion was deafening, cud salivating from their mouths. Logan got in. Once seated in the worn bucket chair, he turned the key, a grating of metal signalled that the old starter motor had worked and the engine had fired. He drove off, leaving the sheep to their business. Before he could even turn and go back to the feed shed and re-load the truck, he found himself at the banksia grove. He scratched his head as if it would help him find out how he got here, his daydream state confounded him. Then he remembered the feeling he got earlier, the pulling sensation that seemed to reach deep inside him. He checked the rear vision mirror to see the truck‟s fresh tyre marks though the yellow pasture. Flattened grass wound back to the feeding station where sheep mingled into a massive dark blur, contrasting against the sallow field. “Logan, where are you?” his father‟s voice crackled over the two-way. “You finished feeding those sheep yet? Logan. You read me?” Logan reached up, plucked the receiver out of its holster. “Um yeah, Dad, I‟ll be there in a tick. Over.” “No worries. I‟m at the „ol bore pump, though. Seems it‟s seized up all of a sudden. I‟ll need a hand.” “Give me a minute. I think something‟s up at the grove, a lot of crows are

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Unicorn’s Peril circling it. Over.” “All right, but don‟t be long. Your brother‟s in town and I need the bore on by this afternoon. Otherwise it won‟t be worth spending money on feed, hey?” “Gotcha, Dad. Over and out.” Logan climbed out of the cab, leaving the keys in the ignition, the door slamming with a rusty crunch behind him. He swore every time the truck moved it lost more paint. He was also sure it was the paint that held the thing together sometimes. Lucky it was an old combustion engine, something easily worked on and therefore easily fixed should anything go wrong. He would spend hours with his dad, late at night most of the time, repairing and patching up the old farm equipment. Bush mechanics his dad would call it. That always made Logan laugh. His dad could repair just about anything and have it humming as good as new. He had a talent for it. Logan admired that and wanted to be the same. To pick up a twisted and broken machine part, bang here, tape there, and presto, stick it in and it works. Logan smiled to himself, approaching the banksia grove with the thoughts of his dad. The dead grass whipping his shins was not a bother, nothing drawing him out of his reverie. The wonders daily farm life gave him sang in his mind. He happened upon the grove on the edge of the field, somehow knowing he was going in the right direction. The soundless crows made sure he followed. Some were hopping on the ground, others glided from tree branch to tree branch. They made sure he stayed on the path, coaxing him to see what he needed to look upon. He came to the clearing amongst the trees and his skin prickled, like static electricity charged the air. The hairs on his exposed skin stood to attention like they were woken. The air was so quiet and close it unnerved him. Even the upright candle-like flowers of the banksias drooped, the branches weighted by some unseen force. The smile was wiped from his face and concern rutted his brow. It was like the land was in sorrow and he didn‟t know why. That was, until he saw it lying on the ground. Sunlight filtered from the banksias dappling around it, highlighting to Logan what the crows had gathered to show him. What he saw stole the breath from his lungs. It was a horse—well, he thought it was a horse. But so distinct from any horse, or brumby, or pony he had ever seen. In fact, it was unlike any animal he had ever laid his eyes upon before. It was white, so white it was like looking upon the bleached sands of a

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Mark Alders sun-soaked beach, with a golden mane that shimmered and glowed even in the sieved light of the Earth turning toward midday. The horse was injured. A black hole marred the animal‟s flank, cauterized and still steaming. He reached out his hand, as if in empathy of the animal‟s pain. It whinnied in response, but the sound didn‟t pass from its majestic lips. Logan, unable to reason how there was no sound at least knew the animal was still alive. Everything slowed and he saw for the first time the crow‟s beaks open and close, yet unable or unwilling to make a noise. Had they been cawing all the time? Logan‟s footfalls toward the animal, even though laboured, were silent. Whatever it was that surrounded the beast, it created a bubble that displaced sound. Reason didn‟t seem to apply. The horse, where the poll should be, harboured a horn a good half a meter in length. No wonder it was unlike any horse he had seen. It was a unicorn. The spire atop the beast‟s poll was long, glowing and striking. Logan gasped, but no sound prevailed, catching him unawares. Now even he was cursed with the silence of the crows. He winced, his breath at the moment also soundless and eerie, unable to even speak of his concern. He heaved, then sucked in a lungful of air. Still no sound. Logan wheeled, his boots thrusting up dust around him, seeing the crows around him dance in chilling silence, their beaks moving, their wings flapping. It was surreal. His eyes wide with fear, for not only what was happening to him, but for what he saw. But fused in his thoughts he also had concern for the maimed unicorn. Help me, a male voice, soft and shallow, said in his mind. Logan fell to his knees next to the unicorn. His mouth, like the birds beaks, gasped for sound.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Two

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ogan knelt next to the unicorn for a long time. He glanced at his watch. As well as sound, did time become nothing more than an empty sense while near this dying creature? Logan then pondered how to proceed, but only achieved his own confusion. He shook his head, hoping the cobwebs in his mind would break free. Should he move the animal? Should he get help? The unicorn‟s flank quivered where the wound was and that in itself reminded him that no matter his decision he needed to be hasty. Time did hold meaning, for the stallion was dying just as quick, whether inside the dome of silence or not. Logan noticed the crows were gone. Not only that, the flies were also absent, which Logan knew was strange. Was that a sign of something hopeful, or something more sinister? Flies clung to everything out bush, like the dust. Logan dismissed those thoughts as unproductive and cluttering. Then again, everything about this was peculiar and Logan‟s head continued to spin while he looked down at the unicorn. He found himself unable to help, only contemplate this situation. His thoughts got worse the more he second guessed himself. Were the crows leaving an omen? Were the lack of flies a sign? He opened his mouth, about to speak, then realised there would be no sound. How was he going to soothe the animal if he couldn‟t talk to it? He scratched his head, the absence of sound as he performed the task dreamlike and deceptive. Touch me, a masculine voice as smooth as silk said. I need to know your purity. Logan didn‟t understand and chose to remain still—only his hair moved as a silent wind, devoid of heat, eddied through the grove. But he didn‟t feel the breeze anymore and couldn‟t recall when it dissipated either. No matter. He, unlike the wounded unicorn, was comfortable.

I need you to do this, human. I will not know you otherwise. To know is

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Mark Alders to trust. He reached out his hand. The first time he had ever done so with an animal, for he was usually confident. Not so now, but deciding to do as this voice in his head instructed nevertheless. When his fingers touched the unicorn‟s smooth summer coat, he felt a hot flush pass through him. His head spun. Then his fingers, his hand, his arm and his chest all lost feeling. Logan tried to steady himself by bracing both hands on the unicorn to prevent his fall to the dirt. His eyes closed. Flashing in his mind‟s eye was a carousel of images, one after the other, faster and faster, overwhelming him. Spinning and spinning, unrelenting in intensity and colour, the vision bombarded him. What he experienced, he began to see as flashes of the past. Not his past, but the unicorn‟s. Over and over the images came, melding into coherent form, into recognisable objects as they whirled. Fields of green, so lush, soon came into being. Logan wheeled from the confusion that clung to his thoughts like honey onto a ladle. Wind rushing over mane. Hooves, rhythmic and graceful as they caressed the ground, propelled the unicorn onwards. Quicker and quicker the unicorn travelled over the field. Over rolling hills bathed in sunlight and covered in everlastings. Beyond valleys and glens, the unicorn moved with grace and happiness in its heart. The unicorn was free, as free as the canter it beat across the land. Then the images turned dark. The land came into shadow and fear struck that once carefree heart. Flashes of light, long and silver, slashed and stabbed at the unicorn. All he knew was the unicorn had been attacked. It was run through, viciously and without remorse, by one of those flashes of silver. The unicorn‟s canter, now staccato, as it struggled to find sanctuary, became weaker as it carried the wounded creature across the land. To find a place to rest, to heal. And more importantly, to get away from the one that wielded the weapon that caught the light. Logan now knew how the unicorn had been hurt. But who brandished the weapon? Logan gasped, the real world seeping back into his eyes as they opened. The sweat that beaded on his forehead was cold and clammy. A wave of vertigo, caused by the unicorn‟s thoughts, washed over him. Logan‟s arms flew wide, trying to catch himself from falling. He didn‟t fall. He began to absorb energy from the unicorn, an energy that hummed through his body like the hot flush only seconds before that tickled and crawled along his skin. He could feel the heat of the day again. He could hear again. The bubble of magic surrounding the unicorn must have burst, the distractions of the outside world

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Unicorn’s Peril cascading in. The first sound he heard was the calling of the crows. Far away, but distinct and welcome nevertheless.

Don‟t fear, Logan.

Logan‟s eyebrows shot up. How did the unicorn know his name? He opened his mouth, letting the air pass over his larynx. Then, deliberately, carefully, he uttered, “How…do you…know my…name?” not knowing if speaking would shatter this whole illusion, revealing that it was nothing more than his imagination, as he suspected it was.

I know you now. And I can assure you, I am real.

“You‟ve been wounded,” Logan whispered, knowing he had stated the obvious yet unable to help himself. “I have to take you to the stable.”

Be quick. I fear the ones who did this to me will return soon.

“Who would have done this to you? You‟re…you‟re beautiful.”

Quick, my friend. Call your father to help if need be. Do what you must. Just don‟t let me die. “Can you get up?” he said, smoothing his hand across the unicorn‟s neck.

I don‟t think so. But I can try.

He pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, trying to sort out the jumble of thoughts that conflicted his mind. “I have a plan, unicorn. I think.” He sprung to his feet, dusted off his legs of grass and dirt, a new found purpose possessing him, and left the clearing. My name is Aidenock, the gilded one, he called to him as he left the clearing. The name of the unicorn rang in his mind. It was beautiful, powerful, and he understood why he was called the gilded one, his mane, hooves and horn shimmered in gold. Gold like he had never seen before. It glowed, possessed by some sort of supernatural force. He backtracked, passing through the banksia grove and then the path he had created by his footfalls to his truck. His dad‟s voice over the two-way welcomed him as he opened the door. From his tone he had been trying to attract Logan‟s attention for a quite a while. “… Logan Peter Massey, for Christ‟s sake, are you there? Over!” Logan fumbled for the receiver, dropping it onto the passenger seat. Sighing and cursing his clumsiness. He grabbed it up to answer his dad‟s call. “Um, yeah, Dad. I‟m here. Over.” “Where are you now?” His dad‟s voice was agitated, yet concerned. “Been calling for ages, Logan.” “Sorry, Dad. There‟s a wounded …” Logan trailed off. He couldn‟t say unicorn, he‟d be accused of madness.

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Mark Alders “Sorry, mate, didn‟t catch that. Can you repeat?” Logan grappled for the right word, adding, “Horse. Yeah, a wounded horse. In the grove. Over.” “Oh, right-o. Listen, Blake‟s back from Wyalkatchem. He can hold the fort while I come over and give you a hand. Seems I got the pump working again for now anyway. It should last until I can do it proper.” A smile quivered across Logan‟s lips. The news his dad had fixed the pump pleased him. “I knew you didn‟t need me. Over.” “Yeah, yeah, very funny. I‟ll be over there in a tick to give you a hand.” “Okay, see you soon. Over and out.” As he placed the receiver back into the holder, Logan‟s attention was caught by a strange sound coming from the grove. A sound unlike any he had heard before, like a horse‟s neigh, high-pitched, but more lilting and struck with purpose. Twisting his neck toward the sound, he saw crow‟s shadows dance over the ground. The birds were racing to the clearing. Logan then glimpsed something moving amongst the undergrowth. “Aidenock!” he called, not able to fathom why. Climbing into his truck, kicking up the dust and flies that had settled around him, he turned the key. Logan, come quick! They are coming for me again, he called. Desperation dripped from his words. Logan jolted the stick shift into reverse and steered the vehicle into the grove, careful not to plough into one of the old banksias, getting as close as he could to the unicorn. A shadow fell over the grove, like a blanket had been thrown over the canopy of the trees. The crows, the engine of the truck, the beating of his anxious heart, all fell into silence once more. Aidenock had raised his magical bubble again. Logan could just make out the clearing in the supernatural darkness that had fallen upon the grove. The banksias that bordered it had grown too close and his truck couldn‟t pass. He clambered from the vehicle, cursing his delay, but no sound meant he was unable to hear his own polluted words. Aidenock was pulling himself up, struggling to keep his hooves stable in the dirt, burdened by the weight of his weak, injured body. The unicorn was the only light left in the darkness and that light spilled to illuminate the clearing enough so he could get to him. How the beast was creating the light, he didn‟t know, only that the light guided him towards the unicorn like a beacon in the dark. Around him Logan sensed movement from behind the banksias that bordered the clearing. How he could sense it puzzled him, for he couldn‟t see

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Unicorn’s Peril anything other than Aidenock and the light he fashioned. He couldn‟t hear anything either, yet he could sense a presence. His heart thumped in his chest, his throat tight as he tried to lick his dry lips. Logan, puzzled and concerned, reached the unicorn, comforting him with his touch along his flank. The unicorn nudged him with his muzzle to reassure. From the corner of his eye, as he guided Aidenock to his truck, he saw the crows perform their macabre ballet once more. In a circle around them they danced, beaks gaping, black bodies bounding and wings jerking. Aidenock nudged him again, pulling him away from this surreal sight.

It will be all right. You have come just in time.

Logan couldn‟t answer, even if he wanted to, his voice devoid of sound while the bubble-like shield existed. At the truck, helping the unicorn onto the tray, a voice pierced the darkness and the bubble the unicorn had created. It was his dad. “Logan! You there?” Everything then returned to the way it was. The shroud of darkness lifted, the crows dispersed and the flies buzzed about his face to annoy. “I‟m here, Dad,” Logan said, catching sight of his dad coming toward him, his burly frame a welcome sight after what he had endured. “See you got the horse onto the truck, no worries,” he said, lifting his akubra and wiping his sweat drenched forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “Damn, don‟t know what‟s uglier, that wound or that stallion! But good job, Logan. Good job. If it can get better pretty soon then that‟s another hand we‟ll have, hey?” Logan jerked his head, setting his gaze upon the unicorn. He looked to him as he did in the clearing, if only weaker. What was going on?

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Mark Alders

Chapter Three

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ogan caressed the unicorn, his hand moving across his ghostly white coat with care. At first to reassure him, then to reaffirm in his own mind that what he touched was genuine. The unicorn‟s skin was silky, unlike any horse he‟d known. What‟s more, the spire that protruded from his poll was majestic. Again he‟d never seen such a thing. What was his dad seeing? Your father is impure, he whispered, his words strained. Not his fault... His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes, his long golden lashes now joined. Logan‟s heart sank at that sight, and he pulled his fingers through the hairs of his mane to keep him in the moment. “It‟ll be all right, boy,” he whispered into his ear. “You drive, Dad. I‟ll stay with the…horse.” Saying the stallion was a horse and not a unicorn, against the reason of his sight, made Logan feel like he was being dishonest with not only himself but to Aidenock as well. He shuffled himself closer to the unicorn. Hopefully the comfort of his body would be enough to keep him from passing into unconsciousness and then death. If only he could get him into the stables where it was safe and he could tend to him properly, then everything would be all right. Logan‟s father, Jack Massey, smiled with a wink. “You‟re a good lad, Logan. Good farmer, too.” “Yeah …he helped me get him onto the truck a bit though. I have to admit, he‟s willing and strong, that‟s for sure,‟ Logan said, still trying to ascertain how the illusion was conjured that kept his dad‟s sight from seeing what he did. But another thought swarmed to his attention, crowding out the others in his mind. What did Aidenock mean by saying his dad was impure? “Right-o. You can stay with the stallion for the rest of the day. Make sure he‟s all right. Tomorrow though, there‟ll be a lot of work to catch up on, let me tell you.” Logan offered a faint smile. How could his dad be impure? Sure, Mum had died long ago, before he could crawl as he was told. So what did Aidenock mean? “I‟ll get up before dawn, Dad.”

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Unicorn’s Peril “No worries,” Jack laughed, imbuing delight into Logan‟s heart. It was good to hear his dad‟s laughter at any time. Something he did less and less over the last few years. But what did Aidenock know that he didn‟t? Logan‟s brow creased and he was left confused, and not for the first time this morning either. “We‟d better get going then,” he added, his tone flat. Jack took off his hat, threw it onto the passenger seat and climbed into the truck. Logan smiled as he turned his attention back to the unicorn. He was still. Only his breathing moved him. At least the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes upon was still alive, safe in the makeshift harness he had constructed. He held onto him tight to make sure he was secure all the same.

I will tell you all you need to know in good time, Logan.

“How do you know these things? What has my dad done?”

Patience. Let me recover. I will tell you. Just let it be known that I, that you, that your family will be all right. I will see to it. “Suppose I‟m reading too much into it anyway,” Logan added with a nervous chuckle.

I suppose you might be. Now, let me rest. It will be a long night for me.

When his dad drove off through the maze of trees, Logan kept his smile. Hope filled his soul, for he felt deep within that Aidenock would be all right. After what seemed an eternity, avoiding banksias, potholes and loose sand, the truck had made it back onto the field. The midday sun‟s light struck them, harsh and unrelenting, as soon as the truck cleared the canopy. Logan shielded his eyes, Aidenock‟s coat glaring and blinding in full daylight. His vision filled with scintillating specks of light, the image of the unicorn burned into his vision, even with his eyes shut, for he had the misfortune of looking directly at him. “Not long to go now, Aidenock.” Logan said. He could only just make out the stable ahead, his vision obscured by the reflected light off his coat. “Then you‟ll be right.”

Thank you for saving me.

The truck came to a halt, right at the doorstep of the stable, the familiar sound of the vehicle‟s door creaking open somehow welcoming to Logan. After being inside the unicorn‟s created bubble of silence, all sound, any sound, was welcoming. He heard the wag-tails chirp, jumping to the long grass near the stable in search of food. Sheep bleated in the background, gathering around the shade of the many eucalypts, fed and content and sheltering from the midday sun. Logan sighed and drew his thoughts back to the unicorn secured on the tray of the truck next to him, his touch never leaving him.

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Mark Alders You are my guiding light, Logan. “Better get that horse inside the stable where it‟s cool. That stallion will cook out here otherwise,” Jack said, knocking Logan from his reverie and standing at the back of the truck already. Logan nodded in reply, getting up and removing his hand from the unicorn‟s flank. He still couldn‟t lay his gaze upon the unicorn proper, the white light reflected off him burned, even if glimpsing. His dad on the other hand had no such bother and was busy unlocking the tray‟s flaps and pulling out the ramp. He clicked his tongue to encourage the horse to move, as if proving that fact. Logan jumped off the truck, giving his dad a hand to ease him off the tray. Working for a moment would help ease his mind. Aidenock was still. Logan touched the unicorn once more, concerned Aidenock wasn‟t responding to his dad‟s encouragement. As if understanding, as if his touch meant more than he knew, he began to pull himself up. Slowly and with a tremble that concerned both men, he rose to full height. “C‟mon, boy, you can do it,” Logan said, as he climbed back onto the tray and walked with him down the ramp. His arms embraced around his neck, head craned away to avoid the blinding light he reflected.

You give me strength, Logan, my sweet.

Logan so wanted to look upon him but couldn‟t. A strange yearning started to eat away at him, festering inside. Was it him, or an after effect of the magic he seemed to radiate? Not until he got him into the shade of the stable, where the reflected light from the sunlight would diminish the glow of his coat, would he be able to see his true beauty once more. In a way that saddened him. His magnificence was scarred into his mind, like a cherished memory. He wanted to see him.

Patience, my sweet.

With the unicorn off the ramp, Logan and Jack guided him to the stable. He whinnied when the shadow of the building came over them. Logan, without hesitation looked upon his new found friend, his beauty drew his breath away. Then he noticed his injury. To him it looked less threatening, like it had begun to heal already. Was his magic healing him as well? “The wound doesn‟t seem so bad,” Logan said to no one in particular, verbalising his thoughts. Jack answered. “Yeah, seems the stallion will be okay.” Jack‟s head was only visible, the unicorn over sixteen hands in height at the withers, something Logan didn‟t notice while he lay on the ground in the grove. He was a magnificent creature. “Just some good ol‟ fashioned tender loving care and some rest and I think he‟ll be right.”

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Unicorn’s Peril “Thanks, Dad.” “No worries. I‟ll leave you to it. I‟m going to be fixing some lunch soon. Don‟t forget to grab some, okay?” “Sure.” Logan watched his dad leave, his frame silhouetted until he melded with the sunlight beyond the doorway.

I don‟t want to alarm you, Logan, my sweet. But I need to rest. I must keep my energy up, otherwise those that hunt me will be able to take me from you. Logan slid the gate open to an empty stall. Fresh hay greeted them, for he had cleaned the stable this morning as part of his normal duties. His un-shoed hooves clomped eerily over the stable floor as he led him to the stall. “Lay here, Aidenock,” Logan said, his voice smooth. “I will go get something to clean and cover that wound.”

Stay with me, Logan.

“But your wound?” As Logan spoke those words, the wound closed, now nothing more than a darkened blemish on his pure white coat. It resembled a stain that needed to be cleaned off, rather than an injury that had threatened his life as it did back at the grove. “I-I don‟t believe it.” I told you, you gave me strength. You are my support, Aidenock said, his words gaining a lilt he hadn‟t heard before. But still, I must rest. Please,

Logan, be with me for a short while.

“Um, sure, whatever you want.” Logan crouched down, sitting close to him.

Touch me again. I want to show you something.

“Of course.” His hand was already stroking the unicorn‟s coat along his flank before Logan even realised it. He was about to add more to his words, when his eyes closed. The carousel of images once more mingled and danced in his mind‟s eye. This time, it wasn‟t as disturbing an experience as the last time. In fact, quite the opposite. This time he understood it was his way of communicating with him on a more intimate level. How he, as a magical animal, helped break down the barriers between them. He knew he was smiling as the images became cohesive in front of him. His house swirled into view, then his brother Blake came into being. His brother was searching in desperation for something. Logan wanted to push the images further along, make them show him what it was Blake was looking for behind the house. Logan realised that the more he struggled against the images, the less clear they became. He almost lost them and panicked when all in his mind‟s

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Mark Alders eye went black, as black as the wound on Aidenock‟s flank when he first saw it. Logan breathed in deep. “I‟m losing you, Aidenock. What are you showing me?” His eyelids were pressed tight.

Stay with me, you are being deceived and there are things you must know.

“What do you mean?” Once more the images solidified and Blake filled his vision again, much to his relief. It seemed Aidenock had more to tell him. Blake was wearing his best shirt. He looked good. What was going on? Blake never dressed up. Was this the past, the present, or the future? The images Logan saw were no longer at the house, either. Rather, at a place he did not know. At a house he did not recognise. Suddenly a boy, weedy and dark haired and much younger than Blake, approached. Joy had filled his brother‟s face. Blake no longer looked like he was searching for something, rather he looked happy and laughed with the lad. They then hugged. Logan screamed and his eyes burst open. “What is it I am seeing?” He said as he gasped, the air close.

I am tired. I will show you more later…but I must rest. They will try and take me tonight. I can... he said, his voice becoming so soft in his mind he

could not make out the rest. “I need to know more. Aidenock! Aidenock, I need to know more, please. Who is the boy? How is Blake deceiving me? Is the boy…his, his lover?” Jealousy then pricked at Logan. The boy was cute. The unicorn didn‟t answer. His chest rose and fell with a gentle rhythm. Aidenock‟s silence solidified Logan‟s reasoning. Blake was not what he seemed. He had been deceived.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Four

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hor didn‟t like what he saw. The banksias in the grove around him stirred from a wind that howled at his back, arriving as he had, with an inherent power to destroy if conditions were right. His mane, the colour striking like freshly minted silver against his white coat, whipped in that wind. His eyes, platinum to match, focused on the homestead Aidenock had been taken to before the night fell on a day that could have been victorious. Neighing, as if commanding the wind to his cause, he thundered through the grove, dust and dirt kicking up behind him as he galloped. Thor rushed headlong toward the golden field that bordered the home of the humans. His mind filled with rage, for he hoped Aidenock was weakened enough so he couldn‟t protect himself from him. Otherwise it was too late. For all of them. **** Sweet smells of a roast cooking permeated the house, drawing Logan to the dining room like a wedge-tailed eagle at the prospect of a kill. Settled in for the night, attired in track-pants and a T-shirt, he joined his dad and brother for dinner, exhausted, famished and glad Aidenock had spent the rest of the day asleep so he could finish performing his duties. Logan shuffled past his brother, pushing him in the back so he could get to his setting at the table. The plate of steaming food he held slipped from his hands and he was only just able to catch it from falling in time. “Hey!” Blake blurted and he tucked himself closer into the table so his brother could pass. His chair scrapped across the floor boards of the dining room. “There‟s such a thing as excuse me, you know?” Logan only replied with a grunt. The image of his brother embracing another boy burned in his mind, festering like an open wound. His reason was poisoned, leaching its toxin into every thought. Logan didn‟t know he was gay

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Mark Alders like he was. How was it Blake could get a boy and he couldn‟t? “What‟s up your arse then?” Blake added, waving his fork like a sword. “Nothing,” Logan replied. The tone of his voice dripped with venom. He sat and began tucking into his dinner, glaring at his brother as he ate. “Seems to me there‟s—” Blake didn‟t finish, the entrance of their dad into the room stalled their conversation. Jack placed his plate on the heavy set wooden table, pulled out his chair and sat. His eyes glistened with the anticipation of the meal. He clicked his fingers. “Oh, darn-it, I forgot my beer.” Logan swallowed hard the contents in his mouth. “I‟ll go get it for you, Dad.” “No, no, that‟s fine, Logan,” Jack said with a grin, grinding pepper over his roast lamb. “Blake can get it for me. Besides, he‟s closer.” Logan‟s eyelids narrowed when he caught Blake‟s sneer from across the table and he forked another morsel into his mouth with deliberate intent. Then, with teeth scraping across the metal, he pulled it out, letting his brother know of his disapproval. Blake got up from the table, the leer still etched on his face. Logan cursed under his breath. Why did he let his brother get to him so? A few short moments later, Blake returned with a stubbie of beer. Condensation had already formed on the glass. “There you go, Dad.” “Thanks, son,” Jack added. “So, what was it you two were yabbering about before I came in, then?” Blake shifted his gaze toward Logan. “I was just saying how looking after an ugly horse all day must have given him the shits, is all.” “He‟s not ugly!” Logan blurted, seeing red. Half masticated potato sprayed from his mouth onto the table top. “What do you know anyway?” “Oh, touchy, aren‟t we?” Blake jibed, a wry smile creasing his lips. “I only speak the truth.” “You‟re a jerk!” Logan lashed back. “So you say. Still doesn‟t change the fact the horse is ugly.” “Well, at least I don‟t—I don‟t…” Logan cut himself short, his eyes darted between Blake and his dad and back again. The look he caught on his dad‟s face was more than enough to know they had crossed the line. Logan continued to eat, his mood darkened like thunderclouds before dropping hail. “I don‟t what?” Blake said. Logan didn‟t answer. He‟d save what he had, what Aidenock had showed him, for another day. He wanted Blake to sweat on it for a while. One day he‟d make sure Blake got his just desserts and that his dad would know his

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Unicorn’s Peril favourite son was gay, too. Logan had told his dad when he turned eighteen that he liked men. He could see a piece of the man shatter as he explained how he felt, how he had come to know he was different. Blake knew, too. He told them both together. Since then—well, his dad said he loved him no matter what, but there was always that niggling doubt. Blake was the favourite, Logan could sense it. Blake never said anything. Logan‟s lip curled up in one corner. That thought pleased him, for he knew Blake would be eating up inside. Everything was now quiet, the only sound that of knives and forks working on food. “But a horse is a useful animal, ugly or not,” Jack interjected, before he guzzled half the bottle of beer in one go. “Right on, Dad!” Blake laughed. “Ugly horses can still round up sheep. Probably quicker. The sheep wanting to get away from it!” “You‟ll agree with anything, so long as you‟re stirring the pot,” Logan blurted, not really sure why and not completely aware he‟d even said it, but happy he did all the same. Blake shot him a dirty look. “Whatever. You just know it all, don‟t you?”

Logan! Help me!

Logan drained white, dropping his fork into his food. “Hey, I was only having a go at you, Loges,” Blake said. “No need to get all dramatic princess on me. I mean…” The rest of what his brother blathered, melded into nothingness. Aidenock had called him. What could be the matter? Logan stood up. “Where you going, Logan?” Jack said, his voice firm. “Finish up your tucker. I don‟t put food on the table for it to go to waste.”

Logan! Quick!

“I-I…I gotto go, Dad.” Logan charged out of the dining room, then out of the house. The doors slamming in his wake. He rushed across to the stable, bare foot and glaring like a man possessed. He didn‟t care what his brother or his dad thought, Aidenock was in trouble. **** The bubble of Aidenock‟s created magic extended out well beyond the stable doors. The silence inside greeted him as he passed through the barrier, sending shivers down his spine. This time the mood inside the bubble seemed darker, less desperate than when he was in the grove, but now holding a sense of foreboding that clung in the air. It was a strange sensation entering the stable and not being welcomed by

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Mark Alders the recognizable sounds he had heard since he was a young lad. To be confronted by a deep seated feeling of dread felt strange, and that unnerved him. The familiar movements of the horses, usually excited by his presence, were devoid and eerie as he slid open Aidenock‟s gate in silence. Logan tried to speak, to comfort him, to let him know he was now with him. His voice, he remembered, was empty while immersed in his magic, and his words wouldn‟t pass beyond their creation. He frowned, understanding why Aidenock needed to protect himself from whatever it was that attacked him, but frustrated he couldn‟t talk. He fell beside Aidenock, the only thing he could think of doing.

Logan, he comes for me. I must keep him away. I must. Touch me. I need your strength. I need your support, Aidenock said, his voice stilted and

strange in his mind. Knowing he couldn‟t answer, he obeyed his call. His hand touched him and static sparked, startling him as he did so. The air charged like static electricity as if the magic that held the bubble together ignited. Then nothing for a few seconds before the stable lights extinguished, like they had been overloaded. In pitch black, the glow of Aidenock‟s coat the only light left, Logan gasped silently. The atmosphere inside the bubble pressed close and he struggled to breathe. What was going on outside the bubble to cause this? Was Aidenock‟s magic failing? Sorry, my sweet. Clearly, he was as affected by this as he was and his heart sank. Was this attacker defeating him? I am doing my best, but he is strong. He

is determined.

Logan could only stare at him, his eyes intent. Desperation and concern struck his face. For what it was that threatened him he couldn‟t imagine, only that it must be a creature of magic just as he was. Hopefully not a creature of greater magic. Lights, like firecrackers exploding, flashed and danced outside the stable. The shadows created on the brickwork inside were haunting. The other horses startled, but, like the crows before, were macabre in their silent dance, their eyes bulging and their teeth, exposed by lips shrunk with fear, opened and closed. Some horse reared up, others cowered in their stalls. All reacted as if scared out of their minds. Logan began to feel pangs of panic himself. This whole experience was frightening and chilled him to his core. He kept his hand upon him, if only to help give him the strength he needed to get through this nightmare. The assault, or whatever it was, continued unabated. The lights then

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Unicorn’s Peril strobed, blinding him with their intensity. Logan‟s tender movement of his hand across Aidenock‟s coat looked as if it was disjointed, even though he knew it wasn‟t. Logan‟s head spun and a queasy feeling overcame him. His dad‟s roast dinner wanted to make an encore appearance. He fought hard to keep himself from vomiting and closed his eyes tight to reduce the effects of the strobing supernatural light. It was affecting him more than he could reason. What evil had seeped into the stable, even through the protection of Aidenock‟s magic? The bubble must have weakened, for Logan could perceive sound again. He could hear Aidenock‟s laboured breathing, the other horses neigh in distress, and to his horror, the screams of the creature outside trying to get in. Again his stomach turned and this time he tried to stop himself from heaving. The muscles along his gut contracted, the experience far too much for him to comprehend, let alone cope with. Whatever it was that attacked Aidenock it seemed to be winning, it seemed to be getting to them somehow. Unable to help himself and overcome by this strange invading force, Logan threw up in the bedding straw, chunks of partially digested food a steaming pile next to him. The smell of vomit then burned his nostrils, spurring on more contractions of his stomach. Again and again he vomited, never once letting his hand slip off Aidenock‟s silky skin. He had to keep giving him his strength as he requested, no matter what. Then everything went black. Silence once more invaded Logan‟s ears. A calm came over Aidenock, and his magic reinforced the wavering bubble around them. As pale as a sheet, Logan collapsed onto him, his head falling onto his flank, exhausted, drained and affected by a magic he couldn‟t comprehend. Sleep, Logan my sweet, he whispered. The danger has passed for now. But

I will protect you no matter what, for you protected me. Then, later, I will share with you something that will reward your courage. Something I only save for my favourite familiars. Logan slept deeply. ****

Thor screamed in frustration, fuming that he had the strength to protect himself already. Aidenock was strong, he never doubted it. Strong enough to withstand him, even in his weakened state. But he had healed enough to thwart him. Time had been on his side, unfortunately. He had found a human, a familiar to

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Mark Alders give him this strength.

Your familiar will eventually see you for what you are, Aidenock, he bellowed. The wind, now a gale, carried his words to him. Know this and take heed. For when you fall I will be there to watch you.

In his rage, in the distain he felt for Aidenock, he thrust his silver spire into the bubble of magic he used to protect himself. Sparks flew as his horn pierced the shield and it scintillated and wobbled as if he had punctured it, hastily having to reform before it burst. You will feel my wrath, Aidenock, he cried, slicing the wind rushing around the stable. You will feel my wrath, I promise. With his power, with the breath of the wind beside him he pushed as much energy he could muster into the protective shell that surrounded his fallen mate. The air inside, close and still, sparked. Faster and faster the light generated by his magic flickered, and a strobe effect danced around him, lighting up the land to surround the human built building and beyond. Then, unable to maintain his power for fear his own magic would come back at him, like feedback, he withdrew his spire. His silver horn luminescent in the night air once withdrawn, sat atop his poll as if a beacon in the darkness. Thor, about to turn and go, snorted in disgust. He heard human voices. Human-made light spilled out onto the ground from the door of their home and two of them stepped out into the night, one in front of the other. “Leave him be, Blake,” a burly man said, his voice pleading, yet stern. “You know how Logan can sulk, especially after you‟ve had a go at him.” A young man, skinny and tall, somewhat attractive for a human he supposed, replied to the man. “He‟s such a baby.” “Mmm, seems like a storm‟s brewing,” the man added as he breathed in deep the cool night air. “Could finally be relief from the drought we‟ve been expecting.” “Doubt it,” the young man grunted. Thor decided it was time to leave. For now. He didn‟t want to be seen. Besides, a human, especially one he recognised, would want too many questions answered. Questions he didn‟t have the patience to deal with in his current frame of mind. Also, he couldn‟t risk acquiring another familiar. He had far too many already. Another would be more trouble than it was worth. These humans, the young man and his father and the one in the stable with Aidenock, were burdened with so much already. Adding to their woe was something he didn‟t want to do right now. He would return again, under the cover of darkness, tomorrow. With that

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Unicorn’s Peril thought, with the created gale at his back, he galloped away to fade into the night, like the wind that carried him.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Five

L

ogan woke, his head pressed against Aidenock‟s belly. It was still night. The Moon‟s soft light streamed into the stable from the many windows on the eastern side. You slept well, Aidenock said with warmth in his voice. Logan got to his feet. His neck was stiff and he rubbed it with purpose. He felt like his head had been pounded against a wall and his face, where his stubble struggled to grow, was plastered in dried vomit. “Darn it, I feel disgusting. What happened, Aidenock?”

The one that attacked me failed. Thanks to you.

“Me?” Logan coughed. “Um, thanks…I think. Not that I really know what I did. Let me get cleaned up, I‟ll be back as soon as I can.”

Even though the danger has passed, stay with me, please, my sweet. I know he may not try again tonight, but stay all the same.

“You know him?” Logan said, surprise cracking his voice. “The one that attacked you, I mean?” Logan went to the sink in the equipment room by the entrance of the stable. Aidenock also got up, following Logan, nudging him in his back with his muzzle. His coat, glowing as bright as the moonlight, warmed his heart. He was pleased he was able to move freely without his aid. I know what you meant. I know all about you now, Logan, he said, his voice changing again, more surreptitious than he had heard before. In answer

to your question, yes, I know of him, of sorts. But enough questions. There are better things to discuss. Wash clean your lovely skin, for I have something to share with you. He noticed he looked at him with intent, his eyes, golden and radiant, reaching into his soul. A tingling sensation prickled and itched his skin, as if he had been rolling on grass, like he used to when he played around with his brother long ago. That thought jerked him back to what Aidenock had revealed to him earlier. “One thing has been bothering me,” Logan said slowly, as he turned on the tap, not letting the water fill the sink. His shirt was also dirty with vomit, so

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Unicorn’s Peril he removed it, letting it fall at his feet. His arms and stomach were struck by the moonlight that flooded the stable. “I can see what it was Blake was doing, your dream so clear, it…but I don‟t understand what you meant by my dad being impure.”

I cannot explain beyond what I have already told you. Not until I can see more myself. It‟s more a feeling, a knowing that something isn‟t right, he explained, the words smooth and lilting again. I could clearly see your brother and that is why I showed you that in my visions. Your father guards his secrets well. You will know when I do, my sweet. I assure you. “I see,” Logan said, not entirely convinced, not sure if he understood it either. “What is it you want to show me?”

I want to take you somewhere. Somewhere you‟ve never been.

“You want me to ride you?” Logan‟s eyebrows, dripping with the water he had cleansed his face with, raised. “Are you well enough?” Logan looked upon the wound, or rather, where the wound should have been. It was gone. Aidenock‟s smooth coat was unblemished and untainted, and he revelled at this discovery.

Yes, I want you to ride with me. To share with you something precious, something I can do for you to repay you in kind, he said, his voice striking and beautiful, caressing his mind with delight. “I‟ll go get a saddle then.”

No! I cannot be harnessed. To be burdened as such would diminish my being. Would hinder my intent. “I‟ve never ridden bare-back before.” Logan dabbed his face with a towel. Please understand, for this is important. Edging closer to him, his hooves, un-shoed, shuffled on the stable floor. This is not something I do lightly. The sound of him approaching reaffirmed in Logan‟s mind that he was indeed a wild animal. He was a creature that was free, magical and powerful, and deserved to be treated as such. To place bridle and harness, saddle and bit on him would be a crime. Logan understood his words, and he stepped up to him. He grasped his mane, the golden hairs protruding from in-between his fingers. Unsure, if he pulled himself up in such a fashion, if it would hurt him or not. He didn‟t want to hurt him.

Don‟t be shy, Logan. I will show you how to do it. Just get on. I will make sure you don‟t fall. He turned his head to nuzzle him in encouragement. The soft hairs on the ends of his lips tickled the flesh on his back. He let out a boyish giggle that surprised even himself. You are so handsome, Logan my

sweet. You will never forget this, I assure you.

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Mark Alders His words encouraged him, eased his concern. He pressed his chest against his coat and immediately his skin bristled, gooseflesh formed all over the exposed parts of his torso. His nipples filled with blood until they were rigid. Then, in an attempt to climb onto him, he raised his leg to get a hold. Aidenock‟s supernatural powers coursed through his entire body, just as his blood did. With every beat of his heart, it pushed the unicorn‟s magic deeper and deeper into him. He didn‟t want to break contact, couldn‟t break contact, and he shuddered in delight. Pleasure kept flooding his body, swarming through his mind with thoughts that aroused him. Logan groaned. “What‟s happening?”

Remove the rest of your clothes before you climb up onto me, my dear sweet Logan. I assure you it won‟t hurt, but be like nothing you have experienced in your life.

“I‟m not…sure I…should.” Aidenock whinnied quietly, then added, You should be unbridled like I

am. Be free. Let your Spirit soar. I will show you how, just trust me.

Logan broke their skin on skin contact, enough to pull down his track pants. The sensation of his touch, the magical force he created, fading from his memory, making him yearn for him as he had never yearned for anything in his life. His pants fell about his ankles and he stepped from their burden. His body, bathed in not only moonlight, but Aidenock‟s glow, seemed to radiate. Like an aureole, he was surrounded in a soft, blue light. He felt free and unburdened, like Aidenock said he would be. His power was cathartic, and he was suffused in it as soon as his body touched his again. He slid up onto his back, pulling himself until his arms clutched him tightly, for fear of falling. Logan‟s head rested on the crest of his neck below his ears and his groin nestled at his withers where his golden mane ended in a comfortable mass of hair, engulfing them in his warmth.

Are you ready, Logan?

“Yes,” he replied. Strangely, he could no longer feel the weight of his own body against him. Rather, he felt like he was on a cushion of air. Logan knew he was beneath him and his skin, in full contact with his, charged and scintillated with his power. Gooseflesh now all over him was proof of that. But this time it was different. This time it was not the charge of his power that coursed over his skin. No. This time it was more intimate, more sensual and he revelled in it. “Take me to wherever it is you want me to go,” he whispered. Aidenock cantered out the stable door, but beyond that Logan could not see, his eyes closed in anticipation once the threshold was breached.

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Unicorn’s Peril What he could see was through Aidenock‟s eyes. Like before, when he vision shared with him, images wheeled in his mind, coming into cohesion with great speed. When recognisable images formed, he saw him dash across the yellow field, the beats of his hooves pounding the ground both hypnotic and wondrous. Logan could not help but gasp, the unicorn‟s body undulating with a primitive rhythm beneath his naked body. Caressing and massaging him with every part of him that touched him as he bounded across the field. He was free and Logan felt it, too. With every breath he inhaled of the cool, night air, he felt it. It was incredible. Logan opened his eyes to the blur of the landscape whizzing by, illuminated only by moonlight. He wanted to experience this, to savour the moments he gave him so willingly. Onwards he took him, picking up his pace with ease, now galloping. One beat, two beats, three beats, four beats, faster and faster, the grove approaching fast. Logan‟s body, even though it trembled with rapturous pleasure, never slid from his frame, but kept to him as if glued by a magical bond. He felt his stomach turn as Aidenock charged through the grove, branches of trees only millimetres from his bare flesh. He navigated through the trees with precision, making sure not one branch or leaf touched his delicate skin. Bursting out of the grove to a fallowed field beyond, toward the hills, Aidenock kept his pace. Logan‟s legs felt his chest rise and fall deeply, again in rhythm to his canter. Exhilarated as he bounded, Logan felt overwhelmed by the movements of his body as he ran. Aidenock was like white lightning cracking across the land with the speed he generated, hot and electric against his body. Logan‟s body undulated as he moved. His perspiration soaked him, lubricated the magical bond between them. He teetered on the edge of climax, more than once having to mentally stop himself. Nearly there, my sweet Logan, he panted. Then I will show you. Every time Logan closed his eyes, he shared his vision and opening them gave him his. The sensation was beautiful. His body quivered as he galloped up the hills, through gullies and over mounds, never faltering in his pace, never letting go his hold upon his flesh. He kept holding tight, even though he trusted him enough to know he would not fall. He couldn‟t explain why, other than to have every part of him touch as much of him, keeping the elation he experienced at its height, the depth intense. Up ahead he could see a natural spring in a copse of eucalypts he had entered a few moments ago, the smell of gum cleansing his nostrils from the

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Mark Alders dust of their journey. Aidenock began to slow. The gallop came down to a canter and then a trot. Four beats, three beats, slower and slower until he was walking to the water‟s edge. Two beats, one beat, he came to a halt. For Logan, the experience of the ride, the ecstasy he experienced generated by his power, was far too much to suppress. He came. His seed spilled out onto Aidenock‟s beautiful golden mane. The sweat of his back mingled with his own and he ended the journey with a delighted groan. Every muscle in his body relaxed and he slumped off the unicorn‟s back, peeling off him as his magic let him go. He fell onto the ground as Aidenock stood still by the water‟s edge, the dirt and grass off the ground sticking to his clammy body.

We are here, Logan, my most beautiful one. You understand everything now, don‟t you?

“Yes,” he replied, breathing heavily. His head lay flat on the ground so he could look up to the stars beyond the canopy. A wind caressed and cooled his hot body, sending shivers across him as he became flaccid. Bathe in the sacred waters, he said, coming over him. He saw him glowing with his magic and glistening with the sweat of the run. He was beautiful. Then

you can wash me.

“It would be a pleasure, Aidenock. I would do anything for you. Anything.”

I‟m glad you understand. You‟re a smart one, one worthy of the position I place upon you.

They both stepped into the warm waters of the spring. Logan, obeying Aidenock without hesitation, washed his magnificent body clean of sweat and grime and his own fluid that stained him, only tending to himself once the unicorn‟s coat was cleansed. Once bathed and refreshed, Logan walked up to Aidenock who grazed on the lush grass nourished by the spring.

We must return to your home. I cannot stay here long. He knows of this place, Aidenock said. He raised his head and snorted the air as if he sensed something. I think he‟s close again. Will you stay with me for the rest of the night, Logan my sweet? “Of course,” Logan chirped, as he smoothed his hand down the jugular groove on his neck, relishing the sensation his skin gave him. His fingertips tingled and he smiled. “You don‟t need to ask.” Aidenock didn‟t answer, but Logan knew it was time to climb onto him again. This time he did not hesitate and he looked forward to the journey home.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Six

T

hor happened upon the spring, a magical place nestled amongst a large copse of eucalyptus trees. His bones ached from travelling all night, so he came to rest in that clearing. The gentle sound of water lapping against the shore filled his ears with delight, relaxing him. He drank deep from the Waters of Truth, and as he did so his mind sparked with a warning. Whether from the past, present, or future, he couldn‟t determine. The vision struck his mind and then took him to wherever it needed him to go. His mind was steered to thoughts directed by the magical waters of the spring and the vision melded into the memory of a smell he recognised. The memory then manifested and became real. That scent, alluring and sweet upon his nostrils, aroused him. An odour from his past, intoxicating him, making him want for days gone by. Thor‟s mind spun, making him think thoughts he believed he‟d lost. He remembered the odour and what it meant to him. It was Aidenock‟s smell. His pheromones and sweat mingled in the air, satisfying his senses with their enchantment. His shaft fell from his protective sheath and stirred feelings within. The feelings he thought he had kept guarded since the day Aidenock left him, like treasured memories of a loved one passed from this Earth. He yearned for him once more. Then something else came into being. Something more subtle, but fused in amongst Aidenock‟s scent nonetheless. It was the scent of a human, a male human. And as Thor took in deep the air, more and more he suffered the young man‟s odour. How could he not smell it before? It now hung rank in the air, disgusting him. The man‟s hormones, sweat and ejaculate contaminated Aidenock‟s attractive scent and it sickened him. He snorted, trying to exorcise the stench from his nostrils. Sadness fell upon Thor. As he looked at his reflection in the water, he called out his name. He yearned for him to be near him once more. To his disappointment, to his grief, it seemed Aidenock had indeed found another familiar, a lover, a human this time.

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Mark Alders When will you learn, Aidenock? Nothing was safe now, for he would use the human to do his bidding. This human man would be lost to him. That much was certain. Thor had tried to warn him once of doing such things, but he never listened to him, even when they were lovers. That centaur abomination he fawned over and the beasts they created together, was the reason for his banishment from their lands. The Elders would not be so merciful when this news passed to their council. Thor had to get to Aidenock before they did. He had to break the bond he had woven with this poor, unfortunate lad without delay. **** The soft, haunting light of dawn streamed into the stable. It kissed Logan‟s naked body, stirring him from a sleep so peaceful that he never wanted to wake from it. All night he had shared his dreams with Aidenock. They were one. He opened his eyes, rose up, stretched his limbs and yawned. Unfortunately, the first duty of the day was to clamber into his clothes, so he went to the equipment room where he had left them on the floor like rubbish. The clothes, as Aidenock had taught him last night, acted like shackles, stifling his freedom and harnessing his soul. He did feel free without them and that putting his shackles back on would suffocate him. For the first time in his life he felt at peace. He was at one with another being, like he was his kindred soul. He smiled.

You do sleep soundly, my love.

Logan turned, surprised to see him behind him. He touched the unicorn, his presence welcoming. “I have to do my chores,” Logan said with another yawn. “Dad is expecting me to catch up from yesterday. If you don‟t mind that is, Aidenock.”

I don‟t mind. The work you do is important to your family and the farm. When I need you I will call.

“Thank you. I will be back as soon as I can.” Logan decided not to put on his shirt, for the smell of his sweat turned his stomach. He threw it down in revulsion. He left the stable reluctantly, unable to take his gaze from him until the last possible moment. He met his dad on their homestead‟s doorstep. “I‟m just going to grab a quick shower and what not, and then I‟ll be with you, Dad.” “No worries, Logan. I‟ll be preparing the drench for the sheep anyway.

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Unicorn’s Peril When you‟re ready you can clean out the stables, okay? Say, did you sleep in the stable last night, mate?” Logan surveyed his surroundings, noticing the truck missing from its usual parking spot. “Where‟s Blake?” he asked, changing the subject. “He‟s gone into town. He said we needed some more supplies and equipment for the shed. Nothing much, so he should be back before ten o‟clock.” “Yeah, can‟t imagine it takes that long to do it,” Logan replied. Bitterness and distaste saturated his words. Jack scratched his head under the brim of his akubra. “You two are either fighting like cat and dog or you‟re best mates. Geez, there‟s never a happy medium.” He let out a guffaw. “I‟ll call you on the two-way when I need you. Keep it close, Logan.” “Um, sure, Dad.” But Logan‟s mind wandered, his thoughts harking back to the vision Aidenock had shown him yesterday. “Then we have to get that pump working by mid-morning after we‟ve fed the sheep, right-o?” Jack added as Logan turned and entered the house. “It was only a temporary fix I managed before, remember?” “Sure, Dad,” Logan called in reply. After Logan had showered and changed, he decided, against everything he knew was right, to search his brother‟s room for any clue to confirm the vision that haunted him. He checked the usual places first, under the mattress, bottom of the wardrobe, and underneath the bed. Logan, his heart pounding with expectation, began inspecting the chest of drawers tucked in the bay-window recess. Logan was both pleased and troubled he hadn‟t yet found anything to either prove or dispel the vision. He wanted to find something to show Aidenock was right, yet he didn‟t for the same reason. He opened the third drawer, the sound of wood moving over wood loud to his ears. The top two drawers had proved fruitless, they contained nothing but clothing. Once the third drawer was opened, Logan moved a few piles of socks and underwear to find Blake‟s diary. He‟d never known Blake to have a diary and it struck him as odd. He plucked it from the drawer, opening the first page. In anticipation he moistened his dry lips. Nothing was written within the dairy. All the pages he flicked to were blank. He let out his breath, something he realised he was holding. Logan was about to close the book and return it, when a photograph fell from the back of

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Mark Alders it. The picture landed by his feet. Logan was taken aback by the image and as a stone statue would be, he stood silent and deathly still. He stared at it for a long time, looking down at the boy in the picture. The boy he‟d seen Blake with in Aidenock‟s vision. The boy‟s baby blue eyes, pretty smile and smooth features made his stomach churn with erotic thoughts. He was beautiful. His mind reeled back to the vision, over and over in his head. The thoughts he had made him wince. He hated Blake. He hated how his brother didn‟t tell him he was gay for one, the other, because he had someone and he didn‟t. That stung. Logan was unable to breathe. He felt taunted by the picture and he could not draw his stare from it. With shaking hands, with slow, deliberate movements, Logan forced himself to move. His heart raced as he picked up the photograph, drawing the picture closer to his eyes. Unable to look at the boy any longer, he turned it over. Words in an unrecognisable hand were scrawled across the white backing.

Dear Blake, here is the picture you wanted. Thanks so much for the wonderful times we‟ve had over the last few weeks. I am so glad we found each other. That cool watch you bought me will remind me of you every time I look at it. See you soon, Josh Carter.

“Josh Carter,” Logan said with a strain, his lips barely parted, as if speaking the name of the Devil. Logan slipped the picture back into place, returned the diary as he had found it and left Blake‟s room. Mixed emotions overwhelmed him. He was both furious and jealous that his brother could do such a thing, but pleased Aidenock had shown him the truth. He was also relishing the thought that it was now the favoured son‟s turn to disappoint his father. **** A pack of dingoes, their coats the varying and striking colours of the desert sands, milled around a fallen, fly-blown carcass. They yelped and nipped, vying for supremacy amongst themselves, solidifying the order of their feast. Thor had seen them long before they knew they were being watched. The wind he cantered with softened his hoof falls across the land and also blew upwind from them. To announce himself so soon could spoil the purpose he had in mind for these dingoes. He neighed and charged from behind the cover of trees he had been

30

Unicorn’s Peril watching from, building his gait up to a gallop. The sound of his voice resonated across the pasture toward the dingoes, carried by the wind he had magically changed moments before he burst from the trees. Seconds later, once his voice reached them, they cowered, their ears pressed against their heads. Some whimpered, but all stopped what they were doing, waiting for Thor to descend upon them. Thor‟s shadow fell long over the dingoes and they submitted to his will without hesitation, lining up at his hooves like he instructed.

I have a task for you all, one of utmost importance. Do as I bid and you shall be rewarded, Thor commanded. His voice took on the power of the wind

that whipped around them. One of the dingoes, his muzzle stained with blood from the carcass, sidled forward. He came as close as he dared to Thor.

You understand what I ask of you?

The dingo bowed lower in reply. His wet, blood soaked nose shifted the sand as he breathed.

Do not harm anything, not human nor beast. Those who do will feel my wrath. Clear? Thor said as he scanned them. Now continue your feast, fill your bellies with meat, for tonight I will call upon you to perform this task. The leader lifted his ears.

Do not fret, impatient one. Your reward will be fitting. I will see to it that you and your pack will not want again. You will never know of hunger. The dingo lowered his ears and moved back to his pack. He never turned or looked away from Thor. Satisfied he had achieved his purpose, he left the dingoes to their rotting meat. He galloped back toward the hills, wanting to rest and prepare himself for the events he‟d set into place once night fell. **** Blake pulled the truck into the brick-paved driveway of number twenty-four Maple drive. It was laden with hay and supplies he‟d purchased for the farm. The house at the end of it was a quaint brick-veneer cottage, with well-tended gardens. No sooner had Blake turned off the engine, when Josh burst from the house. The flyscreen in front of the entrance door slammed against the brick work, rattling in its hinges with a clatter. “Hey, little brother. How you been?” Blake called as he hopped out of the cabin, his arms outstretched.

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Mark Alders Josh fell into Blake‟s open arms, his baseball cap peek catching on Blake‟s chest. It fell to the ground. “Been cool. Mum‟s baked a cake, you want some?” “Sure! I‟m famished. Lead the way, Joshy.” He entered the house with Josh in tow. The smell of baking greeted him, enticing as it saturated his nostrils, whetting his appetite. “Is that you, Blake?” a woman‟s voice called from beyond an open doorway. “Yep, it‟s me, Mrs. Carter.” Blake‟s stomach growled as pangs of hunger rose up within him, spurred on by the delicious aroma. A woman, tall and pretty, entered the room. She carried the fruits of her labour. The smells intensified as she let it rest upon the coffee table. “Make yourself at home. Sit down and tuck in. I made it for you. And you know you don‟t have to be so formal. Call me Valerie, please.” Blake glanced sideways at Valerie. “I don‟t think that‟ll be right…you know…considering.” Josh had already cut the cake, offering Blake a large slab of it. A boyish smile that bared his teeth formed as Blake lifted the plate out of his hand with a nod of approval. “Considering what? That your father didn‟t tell you about me?” she snorted. “Oh, Mum, do we have to talk about this now?” Josh said with a whine, but still able to stuff his mouth full of chocolate cake. “It‟s important,” she chastised, not looking at her son. Concentration lines creased her brow as she poured a drink for her guest. Blake shifted his weight in the chair. “Look, I know Dad made a few mistakes in the past. But I think the biggest is him not sharing his troubles with us. Mum‟s been dead for years...that‟s…that‟s what I meant.” Valerie stopped what she was doing, giving Blake her full attention. “You‟re so right.” “Not knowing I have a half-brother. I think that was important to know.” “So,” Valerie added, her pleasant demeanour faltered for a moment. “When are you going to tell Logan and, more importantly, your father, about this then?” All eyes fell upon Blake and he pulled the soft, moist cake away from his lips. “I‟m stuck in the middle. If I tell Dad, he‟ll be devastated that I found out. If I tell Logan without telling Dad, then that‟ll be worse. And I can‟t face them both. Not yet anyway.” Blake put the cake down onto his plate. “I just don‟t know what to do.”

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Seven

T

he crows had come to the stable, their talons scratching against the roofing iron of the barn as they danced. Their beaks sounded out their warnings that echoed across the fields, like they always did. Logan ignored the birds. He had completed his duties for the morning and as his dad prepared lunch he went to Aidenock. He yearned to be with him, to bathe in his presence once more and neither crow nor man nor beast could keep him from him. He entered the stable with a smile on his lips and a hum that carried a cheerful tune. Aidenock was out of his stall. If Logan didn‟t know any better, he‟d have sworn he was pacing with worry. The unicorn‟s head hung low.

Logan, my sweet, I‟ve had a vision. A terrible vision. I fear that he is planning something. Something that could take me away from you.

“What? No! I won‟t let him. Tell me what I must do.” Logan embraced him around the neck, his head resting against his cheek. The tingle he emanated seeped into every pore of his skin. Logan closed his eyes, knowing, yet unable to explain, that Aidenock wanted to share his vision. In the storm that confronted him in his mind‟s eye, shocking him with its intensity, the wild frenzy of blurred images coalesced and turned, making him nauseous for a brief moment. Then, as they slowed, the images settled, until recognisable. Teeth, white and gnashing, filled his mind and hooves pounded the ground. But not horses or unicorn hooves, rather, they belonged to the sheep Logan tended each day. Logan could only hazard a guess as to the vision‟s meaning, but what he saw, what struck him like jolts from an electric fence, was foreboding. The teeth he knew belonged to dingoes, that he didn‟t doubt and he shared this thought with Aidenock. The unicorn understood. The images they shared faded to black. He opened his eyelids, the midday sun that streamed into the stable blinded him for a moment. A few seconds passed before his vision returned to

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Mark Alders normal.

You see, something is going to happen. And I fear it will happen tonight. But I cannot be clearer than that I‟m afraid. I don‟t know what he plans from this. Future visions are the most powerful, yet the most unclear. Logan‟s face hardened. “What do you want me to do?” You don‟t have to do anything, Aidenock said, as he muzzled at his chest and breathed down the front of his shirt. His hot breath tickled him, and he shivered. But it would be better if you had a weapon. Do you have a weapon? “Yeah, sure. My dad‟s got a shotgun he keeps in a strong box on his ute. Why?” I think you should get it. To protect me from him, he whispered. He may

be powerful and his magic strong, but your weapon, together with my power, could be just enough to stop him.

Logan‟s eyebrows lifted. “I‟m…I‟m not sure. Dad might need it when he inspects the back fields later today.” Do you want to ride with me tonight? Aidenock said, the lilt in his voice absent. “Yes,” Logan replied and his stomach twinged with hurt. He so wanted to experience the joy he shared with him again. To only have it once was not enough. He needed more, wanted more, craved for more. He couldn‟t take it away so soon.

Then do as I ask, Logan, my sweet love. Never question me again. “„I‟m sorry. I-I—”

Oh, and, Logan?

“Yes, Aidenock.”

Have you not learned from my teachings? Confusion, then panic struck him. “I don‟t know what you mean.”

Your clothes. They burden you. Bind your free Spirit. I don‟t want to see them on you ever again. Logan looked down at his attire. He pulled on his shirt front, disgusted with himself he had insulted the beautiful Aidenock so soon. “I‟m sorry, it‟ll never happen again.” Aidenock nudged him with tender care. He had accepted and acknowledged his apology by moving closer. Get the weapon. Then when you

return remove your shackles. I will show you what I can do to those that obey me without question, my sweet. “Yes, Aidenock. I‟ll be back as soon as I can.” ****

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Unicorn’s Peril

“There‟s something I want to tell you, Mrs. Car—I mean, Valerie,” Blake said, as he walked down the driveway to his truck. Valerie and Josh flanked him. “Tell away,” Valerie replied, running her hands down her apron. “I want to…I want to…be around more…is all.” Blake looked at his hands, only now noticing they were cracked and dirty. What they must have thought of him sitting there with filthy hands eating cake he shuddered to think. “To be the man of the house you mean?” Valerie said with a warm smile. “Um, yes. I mean no! Not like that. Oh, God, no! I mean to work, lend a hand and…and you know, hang round with Josh and stuff,” Blake stammered, his voice cracked under his self imposed pressure. “Josh and I would like that very much,” she whispered, reassuring him with her tone. “And I knew what you meant.” Valerie ended her words with a giggle that was music to Blake‟s ears. Blake let out a loud sigh. “Thanks. Anyway, I‟ll see you tomorrow then. All right?” They all hugged before Blake clambered into the cabin. His belly was full of cake and tea and the hospitality they offered. He longed to have a mother, to have cakes baked and a tender kiss upon his brow at night. That would be a dream come true. He turned the key and the truck‟s engine roared to life. To leave them so soon saddened him, but he had to get back to the farm. His dad would be expecting him. “See you tomorrow, Blake,” Josh called as he ran down the street with the truck as far as he could manage. Blake waved his hand out the window in reply, depression falling upon him like night fell upon day. His half-brother disappeared from view once he turned onto the main street. Still in his dejected daze, he drove the truck down the well-worn, well remembered track to his farm. The road was long and winding. All the way there he was accompanied by a plume of red dust caused by the truck‟s tyres as they travelled over the rough gravel road. He hated the last leg of the journey, the radio signal from town too weak to pick up a station way out here. The ride was always in silence, except for the tyres rolling over the pebbled ground. Blake had to entertain himself. What he thought, as the truck meandered along the road, was how he was going to tell his dad he‟d met Valerie. How Jack and Valerie had borne a child from that affair and not told either himself or Logan about it.

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Mark Alders Blake decided there and then and in no uncertain terms, that he was going to tell his dad he was going to live with the Carters. He nodded to himself, pleased he had built up his courage this far to even think of such things. He knew that all this could crumble into meaningless words once his dad‟s beady eyes glowered into his. Blake‟s depression sank lower, right into the pit of his soul. How was he even going to start a conversation like that? A small spark ignited inside. Perhaps there was a way. This time he wasn‟t going to let his dad bully him into submission, to be ordered around like an errant child. He was a man, his own man, and he was going to tell him that straight out. Blake was distracted from his reverie by something moving, something blocking the gravel road up ahead. As he drove the truck closer, it seemed to him horses had gathered on the crest of a hill that the road cut through. But they didn‟t look like ordinary horses. He couldn‟t tell and that frustrated him. The horses strengthened in numbers until he lost count. Their bodies melded in the heat-haze until they were a tangle of dark flesh atop of the hill. Then, only metres away, he saw the horses for what they were. Beasts, half men and half horse, surrounded the truck. So many he could only look on with his mouth agape. He was unable to look away, but struck with revulsion at the sight of these abominations. Blake had only one option and that was to slow down for fear of hitting them. Even his truck, as powerful as it was, would have trouble ploughing through so many. The terror of bloody bodies piling up another concern and something Blake didn‟t want to witness or be responsible for. The truck‟s breaks screeched to an ear-piercing halt, the cause that of the red dust off the road having dried out the disk brakes. One of the beasts, black as night and rippled with muscle, both equine and man, stepped up to the window of the truck. The creature gestured for him to wind down the window and Blake obeyed without hesitation, more curious than anything. The cool air inside the cabin succumbed to the heat outside and he gasped as the hot air hit him. “You have two choices, human beast,” the man horse said in between a forceful snort. “Come with us quietly or come with us dead.” **** Thor stirred, unsettled by something or someone that approached the spring from the leafy trail to the west. As he sniffed the air and craned his head high to capture most of the

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Unicorn’s Peril scent, he realised it was two unicorns that drew near. He stood tall while he waited for them. What is it you want from me? he said, even though they were not yet in his sight. Silence was his answer.

Don‟t try and pretend you cannot hear me, I know you approach. I also know you want something of me. Speak up. What is it you want, protectors of the Elder circle?

Two unicorns, as Thor had seen in his mind, entered the clearing. They were lesser unicorns than Thor, in that their horns and mane were a dull bronze, giving away their weakened hold upon the magic. They were lesser in rank perhaps, but not in brute strength. The reason they were the protectors, the messengers, the escorts. Finally, one spoke. He stepped forward, meeting Thor‟s gaze. We have

come to you by the order of the Elders. They decree that—

Thor stamped a hoof onto the ground, cutting the protector off. Spare me

the details. What do you want from me? The betrayer Aidenock. Where is he? the protector snorted.

The other protector kept a safe distance, but he began to edge his way around to Thor‟s left, a manoeuvre so obvious in its construct Thor couldn‟t believe they would try to attempt it. One unicorn to distract, the other to charge, an old but sometimes effective tactic. Who did they think they were dealing with? Thor snorted in reply to the protector‟s question, deciding instead that this was folly. He would never tell them where Aidenock was, not even if all the Elders themselves ordered him to do so. Summoning the wind, with thunderclouds gathering overhead, Thor rose up. He wheeled on his hind hooves and charged at the other protector. With his spire glowing like smelted silver, head so low his horn poised like a lance, he fell upon the other. A scream from the protector‟s quivering lips rang out as the clouds released their burden and pelted them with heavy rain, the conjured wind driving it in needles. While the protector was distracted, while covering from the sleet, Thor struck the other in the breast until he was poll deep in his assailant‟s flesh. Once satisfied the protector was helpless, and Thor could feel the protector‟s blood trickle down his face, he released his power into him. Instantly, the protector‟s internal organs vaporised. When Thor withdrew his spire the unicorn crumpled into a messy pile of skin and bone on the ground.

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Mark Alders Thor‟s horn glowed with magnificence and it illuminated the clearing as the clouds and wind gained in anger and darkened the air, reflecting his mood. The other protector, the one who spoke, could only look on stunned at the ground where his comrade once stood. Return to the Elders. Your mission has failed, Protector, Thor thundered. Lightning struck the ground with a hiss by his side.

I am dead if I return empty handed, you know that. You know the laws,

The protector said, desperately, stepping back to gain distance. Thor began to circle, splashing through the spring. I know the laws. You

cannot return and you cannot flee. What is your name, Protector? My name is Oran, he said, a small vestige of pride filtering through his words.

Perhaps you may be useful to me then, Oran. I would rather die than help anyone that would keep Aidenock from justice, Oran spat. His words seared Thor‟s ears, staining his thoughts with their intended malice.

Very well, Oran. Ready yourself!

Thor, using his spire like a foil, charged at Oran with all the strength and speed he could muster. Like the lightning that struck the earth around them, he came upon the protector with a force that vibrated the ground underneath their hooves. The rocks rumbled, the trees shook and the Waters of Truth in the spring rippled. Their spires clashed and in a flash of light, Oran‟s horn snapped clean from his head, spiking the ground like a spear. Oran staggered back, whinnying in agony, blood staining his once silky white coat. But the lustre that was common of unicorn lineage was no more upon Oran. The coat of the protector had turned a muddy-brown as his hold on the magic faded. He was that of an ordinary horse. Please, have mercy. I-I was wrong to cross you, Thor, Oran yelped. But I

am stuck. I cannot return, my life is void from this moment on. I don‟t want to die.

Thor stood silent for a long time. Then, as if taunting the protector, Thor struck again. He swiped his spire so that it created a great red line across the beast‟s flank. Oran retreated, his neigh, high pitched and desperate, holding with it agony. Again Thor stuck. His spire found Oran‟s flesh with ease. Blood stained the ground, seeped into Thor‟s eyes and tricked over his lips until he could taste his enemy. Again and again he struck until Oran was a nothing but a bloody crumpled pile on the ground begging for his life, unable to move. Oran

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Unicorn’s Peril had submitted and was now nothing to Thor but a broken and beaten horse. Thor stopped, then smiled. Please, Thor, Oran added, now crouched low on the ground. How can I trust you? Thor replied. The thunderclouds and wind now dissipated, reflecting his lighter disposition.

You have my life, you have taken away the symbol of our kind. I have nothing left. I am but a horse. Your horse, to do with as you please. Very well, Oran. I accept. Now get up. I have a task for you.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Eight

J

ack stood back and sucked in the stifling air, pleased with himself he had accomplished his goal. The water from the pump flowed freely, cascading into the trough. The sheep nearby gathered, jostling Jack to pass, attracted to the water like magnets to metal. He was relieved he had repaired the pump before the dam dried and he‟d begun losing stock. He returned to his ute, his clothes and skin sweat drenched and stained from hours of toil. Relief washed over him, smoothing his drawn out tired face, for he could now return to the homestead. Placing his tools back into the flat cabinet on the ute‟s tray, right next to the strong box, a shadow passed over him. Instinctively, he looked up. Jack couldn‟t see a cloud in the azure sky, the sky that went forever in all directions. He scratched his head in bewilderment and shrugged his shoulders, continuing with his work. He dismissed it as a figment of his imagination, telling himself that his tired mind was playing tricks on him. The shadow returned, this time keeping Jack in its shade, proving it was no apparition. Jack stopped what he was doing. His wrench fell from his hand and dropped into the cabinet with a clatter. He knew Logan was at the homestead; he also knew Blake was yet to return from town. Who was it that cast the shadow over him? “Who‟s there?” he yelled, as he turned to look upon the one that disturbed him, sliding his hand over to the strong box to retrieve his shotgun. Jack‟s eyes met with the ones behind him that blocked the sun, and they were yellow and tainted with the fires of hell itself. The man … no, the beast that confronted him turned his stomach, for he was neither, yet both. It was man on the top, but with a great horn that twisted and spiralled from the centre of his forehead. The rest, from his loins down, was that of a horse. His equine coat was pitch black, his human skin emaciated and white, and the whole of his being glowed even under the intensity of the afternoon sun.

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Unicorn’s Peril “What abomination are you?” Jack said, his breath gasping like summer‟s final farewell. As he stepped back, his body met the truck with a thud. “Abomination!” the man-beast spat. “Yes, that‟s right. I am the abomination that walks this Earth. I am neither one nor the other as you can see. The one despised, hated for just being, for just existing. I am Keallan, and I know you keep my bastard of a father locked in your stable.” Jack plunged his hand into the strong box with desperation. The beast in front of him was too hideous to look upon, yet he couldn‟t let it know of his revulsion. To show fear, to show any negative emotion to a beast was both unwise and stupid, that he knew. He fumbled in the box for the shotgun, for he now felt it was his duty to put the beast out of its misery. Even the man part of it was grotesque. Teeth, yellowed and twisted, seemed stuffed into the man-beast‟s mouth. His lips protruded, and his nose, bent and large upon his face, overshadowed his beady eyes with those yellow pupils. His head was bald, wrinkled, and lumpy, and the horn that protruded was like a twisted knife in a bowl of porridge. To Jack‟s horror his shotgun was gone. He swallowed hard, unable to help himself but to be sickened by such a being, and the fact he could not even defend himself should it attack. “Missing something, my friend?” Keallan said. Spittle oozed from his slathering lips. “I was just—” Keallan thrust his hoof forward, an action that struck Jack fair in the middle of his chest, sending him to the dusty ground with a bone shattering thud. Jack tried to pull himself up, using the rope rungs on his utility for support. The blow to his chest numbed him and he failed to do anything other than eat the dirt he had been thrust upon. “I know what you were just doing. Do you think my appearance affects my brain?” Keallan said, pressing his hoof down onto Jack‟s hand. The sound of his knuckles and bone snapping inside nauseated and deafened. “Stop! Please, stop!” Jack bellowed in agony. The skin of his hand split under the pressure and bright red blood seeped out to stain the sand. “I will stop, when I know you have submitted enough to my will, human. And I will only be pleased when you are on your knees sucking my cock dry. It‟s been too long without a bitch. You‟d be perfect.” Keallan lifted his hoof and Jack cradled his broken hand. Jack‟s face was a misshapen mask of pain. Tears of agony rolled down his dirty cheeks to fall upon his shirt. He was now afraid.

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Mark Alders “I will submit. I will do what you want,” he said with a strain and a wheeze of breath. “Bah! Humans are so weak. How about I just mount you instead? Fuck you like they have fucked me all my life. Then dispose of you like a sheep carcass once I‟ve had my fun, hey?” Keallan laughed. Spittle flew through the air and landed on Jack‟s shirt front. “You‟re pitiable, not even worth that bother.” Jack, wincing from the pain of his wound, decided to shuffle himself up to his feet. His back pressed against the ute‟s cabin to help him stay upright. “I cannot say how you‟ve been treated. I don‟t know you.” “Don‟t pity me! I‟ve had enough to see me into the afterlife, a thousand of your lives. But I may have a use for you yet.” Keallan reared up until his body blocked Jack‟s view, the grotesque beast even worse from the underside. Then, coming down, he clouted Jack over the head, sending him back to the dirt he had squirmed up from. Everything went black. **** Logan slid the locking bolt across the stable door, the shotgun nestled under his arm. He ducked into the equipment room and disrobed. He threw his clothes onto the ground, discarding them like the shackles Aidenock said they were. Once prepared, he entered the stable proper and noticed Aidenock lying on the fresh bedding straw in his stall he‟d prepared earlier. He looked peaceful, angelic even, and Logan couldn‟t peel his eyes from him. His soft glow radiated outwards, like a beacon to his cause. I see you have done as I have asked, he whispered into his mind, his lilt wonderful, musical and enticing. “Yes, and I bought the shotgun as you wished.” Place the weapon in my stall, he added, rising his head to flick his mane.

You please me. I now have a very special reward for you.

Logan‟s face beamed, delighted Aidenock was so pleased with him. After he had placed the shotgun near the stall‟s door, covering it over with straw, he went to the unicorn.

Lay down on the soft hay near me, my sweet. Come, right up as close as you can get. I have only ever done this to one other. And, like the ride we shared last night, and the rides we will continue to have, this is something I do not do lightly.

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Unicorn’s Peril Logan obeyed.

This will not be a vision share, rather something for you to savour, to enrich your unfettered soul. Something that will solidify our bond and complete your understanding of what it is I ask of you. “I‟m ready,” Logan replied. His stomach rose and fell as he tried to calm himself. He trembled inside with anticipation. His slender, athletic frame exaggerated his ribs and hips as he lay next to him, hands knotted behind his head. He wanted so much for Aidenock to reward him for his good behaviour. He bought his head close to Logan. So close he could feel his hot breath upon his bare skin and the tickle of his hairs that protruded from his muzzle. Then, a jolt, like electricity, shot through his body to make him shudder. Logan let out a yelp.

Hush, Logan. Patience, for I am channelling my power directly into you, in the only way I can. Patience.

Logan breathed, releasing the air he had trapped in his lungs from the surge of power he felt, only to discover, to his surprise, that he was licking him. Aidenock‟s tongue, long and slender, worked upon his head, matting his dark hair flat with wet and sticky movements. Like a horse would care for a new-born foal, Aidenock licked him. He moved his tongue across Logan‟s body, covering him in his fluid. He pressed his power into him with every caress of his tongue. Logan shuddered with every movement he made. He groaned with pleasure, feeling at one with Aidenock, even more so than the ride last night. “Aidenock!” Logan called. Logan‟s body sung, ignited by the supernatural power he lavished upon him. The skin he had worked on glistened with saliva, illuminated and charged. His fluid soaked into his skin, invaded his pores. The residue, once absorbed, was his magic shimmering across the surface of his flesh, just as it was with his coat that glowed even in the dark. Logan could see beyond the stable, beyond the day as it was. His mind, if he chose, could turn to anywhere in the lands surrounding his home. The spring he bathed him in last night, the grove of banksias where he first met him and the fields and hills beyond. It was as if he could fly, soaring without wings, his mind not burdened by his body. He was free.

Now you know what I can see. All of the time. “I never want to be away from you.”

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Mark Alders The journey isn‟t over yet. Logan moaned with delight and Aidenock continued to massage him with his tongue. His breathing was now fast and deep as he became more and more intoxicated with his power. Aidenock then transformed his magic, the level of energy he injected into him changing in pitch and register. Once more it jolted him. His body shook, violently at first, as he lay on the bedding straw, fortunately cushioned by the soft surface. Then, as he adjusted to this new dose of magic, he became aroused by the effect of the energy it had as it swarmed through his being. “What … what … is it … doing … to me, Aidenock?” But he didn‟t answer. Aidenock kept working his magic upon his flesh. Logan didn‟t mind, he just didn‟t expect the result this new degree of magic would have on his body. If his stomach only turned before, now his whole body vibrated in sensual delight, tingling, scintillating and numbing him with delight. He was in heaven. He was powerful. His foreskin slid back when he became more and more aroused and the unicorn continued to caress his skin with his tongue unabated, touching his hardness. Involuntarily, Logan quaked in raptures of ecstasy. He was washed with wave upon wave of Aidenock‟s power melting inside him. His body suffused with pleasure, both physical and mental. Logan‟s mind, out in the fields and soaring across the landscape, returned. Aidenock‟s new pulse of power drew him in, like a fisherman would a freshly baited fish.

Nearly there, my dear sweet love. Then our bond will be complete.

He let out a cry, screaming until he had to gasp for air. But it was not a cry of pain, rather of joy. Logan‟s senses hummed and upon the release of his inhibitions he was able to comprehend Aidenock‟s intentions. His magic soaked flesh, the skin that kept him in and surrounded him, was now just like his. He felt as though he could take on anything, an immortal and as powerful as Aidenock. He felt just as he must feel. He loved it. He then knew, beyond any doubt, that there was a bond between them. He had been touched so intimately, unlike anyone or anything had touched him before. Logan, with one final jolt, as he finished caressing his flesh, and in an explosion of rapturous ecstasy, covered himself in his own fluid. Aidenock licked it off him.

It is done.

Logan lay and stared at the stable ceiling for a long time. Aidenock was

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Unicorn’s Peril quiet beside him, whinnying into his ear when he turned to look upon his beautiful face. Then, ever so slowly he got to his feet. His body, drenched in his saliva, was cooled by the afternoon breeze that filtered through the stable. “I would do anything for you, Aidenock,” he said, smoothing his hands over his body, feeling the remnants of his magic tingle his fingertips. “I would even kill for you.”

Now, finally, it is all understood.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Nine

“

I‟ll come with you quietly then,” Blake said as he climbed out of the truck‟s cabin. The man-beast snorted and the others stepped back, giving Blake enough room for his feet to fall onto the red soil. Only the one that spoke to him remained close, so close Blake could smell his odour. It stung his nostrils. “I am Ferran, Lord of centaurs, and it would be wise to climb upon my back and come with me. I have something to show you.” Blake was about to open his mouth to protest, but the centaur struck his hoof onto the ground. A thin cloud of dust rose to cover those around him. The glare from the man-beast was enough to discourage him and he stepped up to the creature. There was a brief pause before Blake climbed up onto Ferran‟s back. The centaur‟s skin was silky smooth and therefore difficult to grasp onto without a saddle. Where was this beast taking him? “Shit! This would be easier if I had a saddle, you know.” He squirmed across the beast, sliding up as best he could. His feet and hands slipped with no holds, his nose awkwardly pressed against the small of the centaur‟s human back the result. “Silence!” Ferran boomed. “We ride!” Before Blake knew what had happened, his view restricted by Ferran‟s rippling back muscles, the centaur jolted forward. Blake, beaded with sweat from his efforts, was almost flung from Ferran as the burst of power the centaur used to charge was both unexpected and sudden. Blake had no choice but to grapple his arms around Ferran‟s waist, to hang on blindly, for fear of hitting the ground should his grip loosen. With the thunder of hooves pounding the field and Blake managing to ease himself up to a semi-upright position, he could see the lands the centaur traversed. The fields and bushlands and groves of trees of his farm whooshed

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Unicorn’s Peril past as Ferran galloped faster and faster. To where, he could not hazard a guess. The ride, to Blake‟s consternation, was uncomfortable. Not only on his bones as the centaur galloped unrelenting onwards, but his groin, as he was bounced up and down against Ferran‟s back. Having no stirrups to set his feet in, to help him rise and fall against the centaur‟s gait, made it difficult to concentrate on anything other than self-preservation. Blake removed his left hand from Ferran‟s waist, using it to press against his withers, a feeble attempt to cushion himself from the centaur‟s hard, muscular equine back. It worked for a while, but the strain of trying to hold himself up against the forces of the ride were too hard to maintain. Blake couldn‟t even swear out loud for fear of biting his tongue as his body jarred and jolted. He returned his arm to keep his hold around the centaur‟s waist, having almost slipped more than once enough cause to do so. He would just have to put up with the body battering. Ferran galloped on, red dust in his wake and with an urgency only he understood. Blake wished the journey would be over soon, for it seemed to go on forever. Then, as tears began to well in Blake‟s eyes and a shooting pain coursed through his spine, the journey did end. Blake fell from the Ferran with a thud, hitting the dirt. His arm caught under himself as he fell. He yelped, then curled himself into the foetal position to cradle his groin. “We are here, human,” Ferran said. He towered over Blake and nudged him in his side with his hoof. “You will live. Now quickly, come with me. It‟s urgent.‟ „My…name…is Blake.” Blake winced. Pain travelled up from his arm, but he managed to roll over, catching a glimpse of the place he‟d been rushed to. It was an oasis and a place he‟d never seen before. He wondered how he‟d never known of it either, for it was bordered within the boundaries of his farm. Trees of all sorts towered above, shading the area, cooling it. The canopy above him swayed in the breeze, creating a dazzling dappled pattern upon the ground. There was a pool of water, framed by rocks and fed by a waterfall. In amongst the undergrowth, and to his surprise, tents made of skins, more like tepees, were scattered about the glade. “I said to get up, or I will pull you up.” Blake struggled to his feet. He clamped his hand upon Ferran‟s leg to help steady himself. He knew nothing was broken from the ride, but knowing didn‟t stop the pain.

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Mark Alders “I‟m trying,” Blake whined, breathless. Once up, he released his grip, testing to see how he could stand without aid. As soon as he did so, Ferran lurched forward, leaving Blake with no choice but to follow. Blake walked with a stoop, but managed to shuffle himself to a tent Ferran had disappeared into seconds before. Pulling back the door flap, Blake was confronted with a sight that every man of the land dreaded to see. A sick animal…or in this case, a centaur. A female lay upon a bundle of sheep skins, panting for the breath of her life. She was covered in sweat and her long hair was plastered about her gaunt face. Blake knelt beside her, forgetting his own worry. “She‟s sick, a fever or something, I think.” Blake touched her brow. She opened her eyes in response, but they only rolled in their sockets. “She should get medical attention as soon as possible.” “That is why we called upon you…Blake.” The last word Ferran spoke he seemed to strain out, as if acknowledging him by name was a discomfort. “More like forced me,” Blake uttered under his breath. “We have some supplies in the equipment room of our stable. Keep her warm and make sure the air can get in here. I should go get them.” Ferran stared at Blake. The centaur‟s eyes, deep as the blackest night, seemed to pierce his soul. Finally, and in a whisper that barely carried, he said, “So you will help her?” Blake, taken aback, replied, “Of course.” “I mean you, a human that does not know of us. You would do that for me? For her?” “Yes.” Ferran came close to Blake. Then, unexpectedly patted him on his back as he got to his feet. “I never doubted you.” “You could have just asked me to come, you know.” “And if you said no, what then? She would be lost to me. Then what would I do?” All the while, even when he addressed Blake with his words, Ferran‟s gaze never left the centaur that lay helpless by Blake‟s feet. Blake nodded. He turned his attention back to the centaur on the bed. “You should keep others away from her until the fever has passed. You don‟t want an epidemic.” “Come, I will take you back to your metal vehicle. Then you can get the medicine. You are a good human, Blake. I‟m sorry I came on so strong. But Savannah, my wife, I cannot live without her. You understand.” Blake could feel Ferran‟s love for her, as if tangible and able to be touched. “I understand. But there‟s got to be a better way than riding bare

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Unicorn’s Peril back across rough country on you. I don‟t think my body can handle much more of that.” “There is.” Blake looked puzzled, his eyebrows rose to crease his brow. “There is?” “I will use my enchantment to cushion you, the journey will be swift and comfortable. You will enjoy it.” “Why didn‟t you do that in the first place?” Blake replied with a chortle. He rubbed the small of his back as if to emphasise his words, only to have a shard of pain shoot up. He grimaced. “My balls have been pounded into my stomach, I think.” “You can still sire children,” Ferran said, his stern lips creased to form a smile. Blake smiled, understanding that Ferran was only protecting his own. His wife needed him and he knew of the loss should she die. His mother had passed away when he was young. Come to think of it, he would have done anything to save her — even kidnap someone like Ferran had done. Blake extended his hand in friendship and Ferran shook it without hesitation. A glimmer of hope flashed in the man-beast‟s eye as he gripped onto Blake‟s hand strong and tight. “If you had said no, I would have killed you where you stood. You know that. Then, comfortable or not, it would not have mattered to you how you got here. Usually the Keeper, your father, helps us. But we couldn‟t find him. He must be in unicorn territory today.” “Oh,” Blake replied, Ferran‟s last words intrigued him. “My dad knows about you?” “Yes.” **** Jack opened his eyes. The searing pain, the cloudy sensation in his head and the beast that stood over him, all were a reminder of his plight. “About time you woke. I was losing patience and almost pissed on your sorry carcass to hurry things along,” Keallan said. Jack spat dirt from his mouth. He noticed he was no longer near his ute, but nestled on a bed of sheoak branches and twigs. “Where am I?” “Safe…until I change my mind.” Keallan paraded around, his hooves kicked up the sand. Sunlight filtered down from the makeshift timber roof above, rippling across the white skin of his captor‟s human back. “What do you want from me?”

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Mark Alders “I know you help the centaurs. Now I want you to help me.” “What can I give you? Seems to me, if you want something you just take it,” Jack coughed. “Oh, come now, Jack. You don‟t want me to force you, to make you my familiar, to be my bitch in waiting. Because really, to be honest, you‟d be better off dead if I did that.” Jack spat a globule of blood and saliva from his mouth. Keallan must have cut his lip when he struck him on the head. “Then why don‟t you kill me?” “Ah, such a hero. No, my friend, I would not give you that satisfaction. To feel death‟s kiss would be your salvation. A point in time I feel you have not met.” “Then what?” Jack shuffled himself to a more upright position. His face reflected his agony of the wounds. “You have a nice home, far nicer than this one. To live in such a place, to be washed, fed and waited on hand and hoof, to have my choice of mares or stallions. All seems rather enticing, don‟t you think?” “You‟d never be welcome in my home,” Jack said. The hate welled up and oozed from every strained word. “You are an abomination.” Keallan continued, “One good turn deserves another. I welcomed you into my home, as sparse as it is. Now it‟s your turn. I demand it.” Jack craned his neck and surveyed his surrounding in more detail. His eyes widened, reflecting his distaste. Not only were there fly-blown carcasses and sun bleached bones scattered about, but the trees around were all dead, only harbouring twisted, leafless branches. “You call this your home?” Keallan backhanded Jack across his face. Jack felt blood trickle from the corner of his lips, but he didn‟t let out a yelp, not wanting to give this beast that satisfaction. “That is why I want yours. If you will not keep me, not do as I ask, I will rape, torture and then murder your pretty sons. I will then burn your precious farm to the ground. Then, my friend, you will have no choice but to stay here and enjoy my hospitality for the rest of your pitiful days. That is your choice. Make it quick!” Jack wiped the blood from his lips with the sleeve of his uninjured arm. “You leave me little choice then. But leave my sons out of this. I…I will tend to your needs while you are in my care.” “You are truly a noble creature, aren‟t you? Something I lack, I admit,” Keallan said with a sneer. “Speaking of your sons, your youngest, the faggot, will be seduced by my father by now. He‟s probably his familiar, fawning all over him. He makes me sick.” Jack got the feeling the beast‟s last words were a lie.

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Unicorn’s Peril “We found him yesterday. Quite a majestic unicorn he is. He was wounded though…but I didn‟t lead on that I knew what he was to Logan. It‟s difficult enough keeping the peace between the centaurs and the unicorns, let alone explain you as well.” “My father was wounded?” A flash of concern for a brief instant sparked Keallan‟s eyes. That confirmed Jack‟s suspicions. “Yes.” “Makes sense I suppose. His previous lover was the jealous type. How delicious. It must have cut him deep inside to know that a centaur was mounting him behind his back all those years,” Keallan said, his voice distant. “Still, what do you expect from a cock loving whore like him?” “Have you no respect?” Keallan stopped his pacing and stared at his hostage. “No,” he replied with no expression in his tone. “Now, I cannot have my gracious new host unable to tend to my every whim, injured. That wound will need to be healed. I will take you to the Waters of Truth to do just that.”

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Mark Alders

Chapter Ten

T

he Waters of Truth never lied. Thor knew this. Yet he couldn‟t ascertain how the abomination knew of the spring. Only unicorns knew of this place. It was sacred and for another to tread upon its soil was more than just a transgression. Thor couldn‟t let such a thing happen. Thor‟s mind spun. The vision he received of Keallan as he approached the spring was too much for him to tolerate. Not only did the beast remind him of Aidenock‟s betrayal, but he was also carrying the Keeper. What had Keallan done to the human to warrant such an action? Thor fumed. The images were certainly powerful and he had to calm himself, ground his emotions before he could think of what to do.

What is it, Thor? I have a task for you, Oran.

Oran was beginning to regain his unicorn features. His spire, the part of him that focused magic, was beginning to grow atop his poll once more. His skin piebald, the silky white unicorn coat showing through in patches, reducing the brown skin he had acquired after his defeat.

I see your horn is growing back. Good, you will need all the strength you can muster. I will do whatever you wish, my master. It will be a test, Oran. A test of your devotion to me. Oran bowed his head until his snout touched the ground. I will pass it, or die trying. Ride to the dingo pack. Last I saw they were in the fields to the east of here. Inform them there has been a change in my plan and to wait on my orders. I have a greater concern to attend to. One that involves Aidenock‟s son. The beast is close? Oran snorted, the words spat out like poison sucked from a wound.

Yes. Can you handle him by yourself? Do you need —

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Unicorn’s Peril Thor shot Oran a glance that showed his servant of his insolence. I have a slight advantage. I know he‟s coming, yet he does not know I am here waiting. I will use this to surprise him. Oran nodded. I‟m sorry, my master. I will attend to the duty you have requested of me. That would be wise, Thor said moving away from the spring‟s water that lapped by his hooves, cooling them, letting the feeling of the waters wash over him, like kisses from Aidenock. Thor then watched as Oran left the spring, taking the path to the east. Keallan, the beast, the abomination, would approach from the west, the only other way into this sanctuary. Hooves didn‟t travel over the rock and rubble of the hillside too well, and the spring was in an easily defendable position. Unless Keallan could fly that was. He surveyed the clearing. He looked for the best place to hide and be able to watch from. He felt like an animal of prey would, like a dingo as he hid behind the undergrowth. All he had to do was wait. **** Jack didn‟t enjoy the view he got being slumped over the beast. His stomach was pressed against Keallan‟s bony equine back and his neck stiff from craning so he did not suffocate in the beast‟s ribs. Slung over like a saddle, the ground a blur, Jack only had two options as far as he could tell, worry about his injury or watch the yellow field zoom past his eyes, making his head spin in a nauseous daze. “Let me ask you a question,” Jack said, trying anything to take his mind off those limited choices. His hand was bruised and swollen, the blood caked around the splits in his flesh. To not think of his injuries was more difficult than he first thought. But he didn‟t want to show Keallan any weakness, for to do so would erode any chance of reasoning with him. Keallan, in some twisted delight, had also bound his feet. Why he was tied Jack didn‟t know. A fall, even at eighteen hands high, would still shatter bones at this speed. Perhaps it made Keallan feel better to do such a thing, reinforcing that Jack was his hostage and he was in control. Whatever it was, Jack was miserable. “What is it? Be quick!” Keallan snapped, his breath in rhythm with the beats of his hooves. “I have to maintain the cushion of magic to stop you from falling off my back as well as gallop to the spring for you. What more do you

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Mark Alders want from me?” “Where‟s your mother if I have your father in my stable?” “I killed her,‟ Keallan said with blunt intention. “Then I ate her flesh and used her bones to pick her foul meat from my teeth.” “You‟re having me on. I‟m not as stupid as you think I am, you know,” Jack said, his voice shaky, but from the ride not because he was afraid. “You are getting to know me, I see. Maybe there is hope for you yet, Keeper.” Jack was taken aback by Keallan‟s last remark. “You called me Keeper? What does that mean? And you still didn‟t answer my question.” “Demanding, aren‟t you?” “Well, if I am to spend my life waiting on you, letting you live in my home, then I think it fitting I should know something about you. Right?” Keallan snorted. “If you must know, my mother was just another poor unfortunate soul seduced by my father‟s beauty…just like your boy Logan, I‟d wager.” “Logan can look after himself,” Jack snapped back. “You just keep on believing that. I‟m sure my bitch of a mother thought the same.” Keallan chuckled to himself in-between the rhythmic breathing he generated while he ran. “So where is she?” There was no reply for a long time. “I don‟t know.” Keallan‟s voice had a sadness Jack had never heard. Usually his tone was jarring and sharp. Not so now. Now it was like the lower strings of a harp had been plucked and resonated a deep sorrow. Silence fell between them. As Keallan galloped onwards, up the inclines toward the hills, Jack saw his truck in the distance. “Strike me! There‟s my truck! Stop! Hang on, where‟s Blake? Damn, is he in trouble?” “I will stop for a moment to catch my breath. Then we ride again. Clear?” Keallan‟s emaciated coat was covered in a sheen of perspiration. Galloping in the heat of the afternoon would test even the hardiest of steeds. Jack had a suspicion that Keallan had decided to stop for his own benefit. “Right-o.” Once at the truck, Keallan pulled Jack off his back. “Careful of my arm,” Jack said with a wince. Keallan had brushed against it as he set him upon the dirt. Jack‟s reaction was swift and he cradled his arm against his body. Keallan removed the bonds from around Jack‟s legs. “You‟re lucky I don‟t

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Unicorn’s Peril just kill you. Then you wouldn‟t have to worry about your hand.” “Then you‟ll have no one to feed you,” Jack retorted. His lips had formed a sneer that matched Keallan‟s attitude perfectly. “I can see how unkempt you are. You‟re nothing but sinew and bone. Worse looking than a worm-ridden sheep. Not a strip of fat on you. I bet you spend your day skulking about, scared of both unicorn and centaur.” “They don‟t scare me, Keeper.” As Jack talked he was also surveying the ground, looking for clues as to what had transpired that resulted in Blake leaving a fully loaded truck out in the middle of nowhere. The keys were still in the ignition. “Seems the centaurs were here. Blake will be fine so long as he keeps a cool head and doesn‟t do anything silly.” “How do you know it was centaurs?” Keallan replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, cooling his hooves in the shade of the truck, burying them deep into the sand. Jack decided there and then to play along, for Keallan needed the rest. The beast‟s gaunt features, his skin clinging to his bones and drawn eyes deep into their sockets, all were signs of his ostracised lifestyle. “The hoof imprints are un-shoed—so not a horse,” Jack said. He pressed his hand onto one of the many hundreds of hoof prints that covered the soil near the truck. “And what if they were unicorn?” “No. Unicorns walk shallow across the ground. They don‟t have the added weight of a man upon them. They are slender, speedy creatures. These prints are like those from a draft horse, solid and deep. Yep, a centaur for sure. Besides, this is too far south for unicorns. They rarely come to the road that borders the divide of their lands. Not in these numbers anyway.” Every time Jack looked up at Keallan he nodded and grunted, confirming his suspicions that the beast was feigning interest just so he could continue to rest. Keallan‟s breathing was still laboured and sweat dripped off him, pounding the ground in explosive puffs of red dirt. “You asked me why I called you Keeper earlier,” Keallan said. “This is your answer. You know about them, and they call you that, you know.” “No, I didn‟t,” Jack replied, standing up, he approached Keallan. “And while we‟re being honest. You wouldn‟t have needed to ask me to stable you. And you didn‟t need to be violent either. I would have done it. You are in poor condition.” Sweat flicked off Keallan‟s mane as he jolted forward, coming within millimetres of Jack‟s face. The fire in his eyes bored deep into Jack‟s soul as he glared at him. “Fuck you! I said I don‟t need your pity. Never give me your

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Mark Alders pity. I am what I am, so what‟s it too you?” Jack swallowed hard, but did not withdraw from the beast. “You can change what you are.” Keallan roared, about to strike Jack across his face, but stopped in midflight. “No, that‟s too good for you. I will bide my time. When you are healed you will wish you had chosen to become my familiar or that I killed you quickly.” Keallan‟s eyes narrowed. “I will work you to within inches of death each day and I will relish every moment. Now get on my back, there‟s no time to waste. I look forward to my life of luxury and you‟ve delayed long enough.” Jack smiled, but to himself, for to let Keallan see might send him over the edge into insanity. “As you say.” **** Ferran screamed in anguish. The galahs and cockatoos returned his call, just as loud and just as piercing. Completing his escort duty of Blake back to his vehicle and while he waited for the human to signal he‟d acquired Savannah‟s medicine, Ferran decided to visit someone he had neglected to over the last week. Ferran stood tall and proud in the shadow of a magnificent statue, one that served as nothing more than a skin of stone to the one encased inside it. The enchantment was of unicorn making, one that both preserved and enclosed his brother‟s life. The effigy, as silent as the Earth that turned, was once a living breathing being. Ferran understood the crime his brother had committed, but was puzzled by the punishment, an eternity in stone. It baffled him, and he knelt down and prayed in the still shadow his brother cast upon the ground. “Beaudan, my dear sweet brother. Savannah has not been well. I am so sorry, but that has been the reason for the lack of my presence before you over these last few days.” The wind was his answer. Even the once raucous parrots in the trees respected the centaur‟s grief by keeping quiet. “I have a human named Blake, the son of the Keeper. He‟s getting medicine for her as I speak to you. I hope she will be all right. I will let her know I saw you. She will like that. Appreciate that I came, I know.” Ferran paused, shuffled his weigh on the sand, and bowed his head. “I know you could not help what you did. You were enchanted by her. But, Beaudan, why did you not tell me sooner? Why? We could have ridden away. Far, far away. So far they would have never found us.”

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Unicorn’s Peril He raised his head. “I will wait with you until this Blake has completed his task. Will that make you happy, my dear sweet brother?”

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Mark Alders

Chapter Eleven

A

s Aidenock‟s saliva dried and the last remnants of magic sparked over Logan‟s body, he felt famished. He must have suppressed his feelings in his excitement. “Do you want something to eat other than hay, Aidenock?”

A few apples would be perfect. My lips are so dry. I would prefer them soft and juicy. He returned to the equipment room. Logan climbed into his clothing after he had wiped away any remaining fluids off himself. He only bothered with his pants, for he wasn‟t planning on being away from Aidenock for too long. After Aidenock had given him permission to leave, he went to fetch the apples. Once he had mentioned them, Logan too felt they would be perfect to eat and now craved them. He knew his dad had been given a crate of them the other day, payment for a mechanical job on old man Wilkins‟ farm. They would be ideal and his mouth salivated at the thought of them. Logan slid open the locking bolt of the stable door. As soon as he pulled the door open Blake appeared in the doorway looking flustered. “Oh, about time you got back from town,” Logan spat. “Have a good time, did we?” “I was delayed,” Blake replied. He stepped up to Logan. The flustered look darkened his expression as Blake tried to pass. Logan blocked the entrance into the stable. “I bet you were.” “What does that mean?” Blake asked, his eyes darted between Logan and the stable. Logan didn‟t budge from his stance, not giving an inch. “I don‟t have time for your games, Loges. There‟s a sick horse near the south firebreak and I need to get to the medication. Otherwise she could die.”

He lies, my sweet. It‟s not a horse. He just wants to get to me. “Whatever, Blake.”

Don‟t let him see me, Logan. His impure eyes must not look upon me. Don‟t let him pass into the stable.

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Unicorn’s Peril “You‟re an idiot, Loges. I don‟t know what‟s got up your arse over the last day or so, but get over it.” “You can‟t pass,” Logan said. He planted his hands on his hips to stand defiantly before his older brother. “What?” Blake boomed. Reaching out, he pressed his hand upon his brother‟s shoulder. “Just get out of my way.”

He is a deceiver, don‟t trust his words. He wants me to himself.

“Don‟t touch me, you faggot!” Logan said. Spittle flew from his lips, his eyes piercing and intent. Blake took a small step back, surprise replaced his fluster. “That‟s rich coming from you. You‟re the faggot, not me, mate. Now get out of my way.”

He will tell you anything but the truth. Once he sees me, he will want me. And you, my sweet, will lose me.

“You heard. Don‟t touch me. Ever!” “Where‟s all this coming from, Loges? Why all this aggression all of a sudden? I know I don‟t agree with some of the lifestyle choices you‟ve made, but you‟re still my brother. Why all this aggression?” Blake‟s expression had changed again. He looked baffled, his eyes wide to furrow his brow.

He will take you from me.

“Oh, like you don‟t know.” “No. I honestly don‟t,” Blake hissed. “Explain it to me.” Blake also stood straight and tall, his arms crossed, mimicking his brother. Logan wasn‟t going to move, refusing to shift from his ground and let his brother into the stable. Both of them were like two sentinels, locked in an eternal stare. Their silence was deep, just like the rift between them.

He will lie. Just be aware of his deception, my sweet.

“The reason you go into town every day. I know about it. I know how you go see that boy Josh Carter,” Logan blurted, breaking the awkward silence. Crows cawed in the distance. “Oh. And you think I‟m…Oh God. You‟re jealous, aren‟t you?”

The black birds speak of your brother‟s malevolence. Can you hear them? He is going to take me away from you, of that there is no doubt. “I may be gay, brother, but I don‟t go for them that young. You‟re sick.” “It‟s not what you think, Loges. Just understand that.” “I understand all right,” Logan snapped back. “You disgust me, that‟s what.” Blake‟s face tightened and his jaw flexed. “You think…you think I‟m…my God, Loges, you need help. For Christ sake, you know nothing and I can assure you, you‟re jumping to conclusions.”

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Mark Alders Logan stepped forward. His footprints where he had dug himself in were deep in the sand, as deep as his revulsion for his brother. “Yeah, whatever turns you on, boy lover.” “That‟s it, you got me,” Blake said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I‟m getting myself off on a twelve year old boy.” Blake then leaned forward, pushing Logan aside.

You see, he admits his guilt. Show him your strength, show him our strength. Stop him from getting into the stable. Do whatever you have to, just do it, my sweet, Aidenock said, concern created by fear evident in his voice.

“You‟re sick!” Logan screamed. He flew at Blake, catching his brother unawares before he could even set his gaze upon his beloved Aidenock. Both men, locked in an embrace, crashed to the ground with a dull thud. Dust kicked up, surrounding them like their anger and their loathing, choking them both as it infested their lungs. “Logan!” Blake yelled, inhaling the dirt they disturbed in their melee. “What the hell are you doing? What‟s got into you?” Gaining the advantage and now on top of his brother to pin him to the ground, Logan flayed his arms wildly at Blake. He screamed incoherently with spittle flying from his lips as he kept up his attack. Blake had no option but to parry his brother‟s blows with his arms to protect his face. “I will not let you into the stable. I will not!” “Logan! Calm down!” Blake pushed Logan from him, taking a few blows to the head as he did so. Both men were separated from each other, like wrestlers at round‟s end, panting for breath.

Attack him, my sweet. Show him you are superior, a warrior of the unicorns themselves. Make me proud of you, my love.

Logan got up, turned on the balls of his feet and faced his brother once more. Charging at Blake, they both careened through the threshold into the stable proper. Blake‟s screams joined his brother‟s. Blake tripped on a rise in the concrete floor and fell just in front of Aidenock‟s stall. “I‟m in the stable now. So what you going to do about it, arsehole?” He must not see me. He must not, Aidenock yelled into Logan‟s mind. His spirit sank to the depths of his soul when he heard his desperation. Logan didn‟t answer his brother, but circled him as a dingo would its prey. Once Blake managed to get to his feet, Logan charged again. This time, Logan was determined to strangle the life from his brother. To see his brother suffer for lying to him, for deceiving him and most of all for wanting to take Aidenock away from him.

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Unicorn’s Peril “I‟ll kill you. You‟re a lying, disgusting paedophile, that‟s what you are!‟ Logan screeched. His hands locked around his brother‟s bare neck. Blake wheezed for air. Starving for oxygen, his face red, he added, “Let me go!” He gasped like a fish would out of water, clutching his hands around Logan‟s arms to try and pry them free. Logan smiled when he increased the pressure, pushing his thumbs into Blake‟s larynx. Blake kneed Logan in the groin, making him release his grip on his throat, sending him staggering back through Aidenock‟s stall. Logan fell as he lost his footing. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back on the bedding straw.

Don‟t stand for this, Logan my sweet. You are better than that. We are better than that. Get him away from me, this instant.

As Logan got up, ready to attack his older brother again, his foot caught something hard in the hay. The shotgun revealed itself to him and Logan smiled as a result. Remember, use whatever force you need, Aidenock said with a soft lilt in his voice, encouraging Logan. He plucked the weapon off the floor and approached Blake who was still choking from the pressure Logan had placed on his windpipe. “You‟re finished,” Logan sneered. A smile, ugly like a scar, creased his face. Blake looked up, rubbing his throat. “Put that down before you hurt someone,” he ordered, his hand extended out, begging Logan to come to his senses. “I plan to hurt someone all right. You!” Logan said as he aimed the weapon, eying down the target finder at the top of the barrel. Before Logan could squeeze the trigger, before he could rid the world of his older brother, Blake lurched forward, colliding with Logan head on. Blake pulled on the gun, pushing it upwards away from his body. He gripped Logan‟s hands that were clasped tight around the handle and trigger. A shot rang out and both men screamed. **** Jack felt Keallan fall. Luckily Keallan wasn‟t at a gallop, but travelling up an incline that would lead to the spring. His speed more of a slow trot as the beast was tiring. Sweat and fatigue both clung to him in equal measure while he tried to make his way up the hill, his breaths short and shallow.

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Mark Alders Jack, flung from the beast‟s back and no longer supported by the magic Keallan created, landed upon the fallow field. His shoulder took the brunt of the fall and he yelped in agony. Jack‟s injured hand was a bulbous purple monstrosity at the end of the arm he landed on. He was in excruciating pain and longed for the so-called Waters of Truth to heal him. Shaking the stars from his eyes once he had gained his bearings, Jack staggered to his feet. The shoulder, thankfully, wasn‟t broken, only scraped. Although the graze went down to the small of his back, his shirt ripped and tattered. He couldn‟t see the beast. “Keallan, where are you?” he bellowed, an echo of his voice the only reply. He surveyed the land, noticing there was a small crag of rocks to the west that dropped five metres below the path. Jack walked up to the edge, wincing in pain and cradling his arm, that side of him numb. What he saw added no delight to his already grim situation. At the bottom Keallan laid, a mess of tangled limbs, both human and equine. He was still and that sight sickened Jack to his core. The beast‟s eyes were closed, blood streaked and stark against Keallan‟s white human skin. “Are you all right, Keallan?” There was no reply.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Twelve

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he searing blast from the shotgun blinded Blake for a moment, the ringing in his ears intense and painful. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the aftershock of the weapon‟s discharge. The stable wheeled in his vision, making him nauseous as he gathered his bearings. Blake staggered aimlessly, using the stall door to support himself. When the spots of scintillating lights faded in his vision, he saw Logan on the floor. The shotgun by his brother‟s feet. Then, once Blake could see, everything seemed to move in slow motion, like what he saw didn‟t register in reality. In his mind he tried to resist what confronted him, doubted it, even though he was witness to it. His brother lay like a manikin upon the concrete, his eyes closed and limbs skewed. The sight sickened Blake to the pit of his stomach. Blake screamed, until his voice was hoarse. He rushed to his brother‟s side, falling to his knees beside him. Thankfully, Logan didn‟t look injured. No blood was evident. As far as Blake could tell Logan had been knocked on his head in the fall. A tipped over barrel of horse oats rolled across the concrete, attracting his attention to that fact. Its remaining contents spilled on the floor. The barrel came to a stop near Logan‟s head. Blake checked for any other damage upon his brother‟s body and as far as he could see nothing other than a couple of cuts, possibly from shrapnel, was evident on his skin. The shotgun had discharged into the stable‟s ceiling. When Blake looked up his suspicions were confirmed. A hole the size of a fist, edged by black, was above him. Dust sifted from the opening, catching in the afternoon sunlight that streamed into the stable from the upper ventilation windows. “Thank God you‟re all right, Loges,” Blake whispered into his brother‟s ear, even though he knew Logan couldn‟t hear him. “What the hell has got into you? You‟ve never acted like this. You could have killed me…or even yourself for that matter. Why are you being so stupid?” Logan moaned, then opened his eyes. They rolled in their sockets.

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Mark Alders “You‟re a liar, Blake,” he said with a cough. “Why didn‟t you tell me?” Before Blake could answer, tell him that this whole incident was a terrible misunderstanding, a brilliant white light flashed in front of him. He was knocked to the floor, the room once more spun, his disorientation returning like an unwelcome memory. Blake, once up on his feet, twisted his neck. He looked around to see what had struck him down, what had disturbed any chance he had of talking sense into his little brother. A horse, dazzling white, with the lines of a thoroughbred, stood between him and Logan, stamping its hoof onto the floor in warning. Blake was stunned, for he had never seen this horse before. How did it get into the stable? Unless it was the horse Logan and his dad had rescued yesterday. But that couldn‟t be possible. This horse wasn‟t ugly at all. Rather, it was simply spectacular, breathtaking in appearance. With mouth agape, he had to look closer upon the animal, to marvel in its beauty. Something wasn‟t quite right with it. As his eyes adjusted to take in its radiance, he then knew it was indeed different. This horse was no ordinary stallion. In fact, it wasn‟t even a horse in the way Blake had come to know them. This animal—no, this creature had a horn protruding from the top of his head, his mane, hooves, and tail, golden as if just cast and made into something beautiful. The creature shimmered, even in the vivid ambient light of the stable his light brightened the room.

Keep away from him. He is my anchor, my familiar, and I will protect him with my life, Aidenock commanded, the voice he spoke lyrical and with a lilt

that struck hard in Blake‟s mind. “What…are…you?” Blake stammered. He held his ears, for he could hear him in his mind, like an unwelcome tune that played in his head. The words and song were familiar, yet unable to be cast out easily. “You can speak to me? How is that possible?” I am Aidenock, he said. Now leave us. You are not to look upon me. With those words he stamped his foot again, sparks igniting upon the stable‟s concrete floor. “I can‟t help it…you are so, so…beautiful,” Blake replied, taking a small step forward. “I can see how why my brother has been acting the way he has. He‟s been protecting you.” And I am worth protecting, Aidenock said with a neigh. Now leave this instant or I will force you out. Blake stopped his slow advance. He saw, between the unicorn‟s legs, Logan get to his feet, cradling his head. “How can you force me?”

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Unicorn’s Peril Your brother Logan helps me, as I said. Through him I can channel a power that could take your life away in a beat of your heart. He is valuable beyond words to me. “I didn‟t mean to be insulting, Aidenock. Please understand,” Blake said softly. “But I-I am still coming to grips with what has happened today. First I see centaurs, now I see you…a unicorn. What next? Flying horses?”

It does not change the fact that you are forbidden to set your gaze upon my body, Aidenock spat. Logan, my sweet, touch me. I will show this human the meaning of respect, what it is to listen to others that give due warning. Blake stepped back, baffled by what this beast was saying. As he did so he noticed his little brother do as he instructed without hesitation. That sent a shiver down Blake‟s spin. No sooner had Logan‟s hand contacted his coat when his horn ignited in a blaze of golden light. A spilt second later, energy, taking on the frightening form of sheet lightning, cracked the air and discharged into Blake‟s chest. Blake was jolted from his feet and sent flying across the stable, landing on his backside by the equipment room. Thankfully, bags stuffed with chaff and hay broke his fall. The bags burst open as soon as Blake made contact with them and the contents thrust out onto the floor as the lightning energy passed into everything Blake came in contact with. Eventually, his power travelled out of his body to charge the air around him. His body pulsed with the residual energy of Aidenock‟s strike. Blake‟s skin, statically charged, tingled and pricked, causing every hair on his body to stand upright. He groaned and a dull pain seeped over him. Blake‟s muscles were drained, his limbs heavy and weak.

Now leave, or the next one will not be a warning strike.

Blake shook his head, the last of his body to feel the effect of the energy discharge from the creature‟s horn. He felt like someone had pounded on his skull with their fist. Again Blake let out a moan. Everything went black, like something had drained the light from the stable. A supernatural force, a magic that seemed to emanate from the unicorn, overtook him. Blake swallowed hard, unable to even reach up and rub his eyes. Whatever power had struck him it was devastating. “What did you do to me?” he said, realising his words were slurred, like he were drunk.

I will give you one final warning, brother of Logan. Leave now, or I will have to take more drastic measures if you do not.

Blake forced himself to look up. His head had slumped down onto his chest, like a rag-doll‟s would be if discarded. Seeing his brother, now naked

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Mark Alders and sexually aroused, shocked him. His brother stood next to the beast, caressing him, the expression on his face nothing more than sheer pleasure, the pre-cum that dribbled from his piss slit more than evident of that. “What the hell have you done to Logan? You‟re not beautiful at all. You‟ve played on my brother‟s desires. You‟re evil!” Yes, you see that he is all mine. His mind, his body, his soul. Aidenock said, the song in his voice became staccato, pounding in Blake‟s mind. He

would do anything for me. He could, if I asked, pick up that weapon and empty its contents into your flesh. Doing anything I ask him to do without guilt or remorse. That is the power we have together. “You‟ve bewitched him! Not only is Savannah‟s life in jeopardy, but my brothers as well,” Blake spat, struggling to get to his feet, covered in the contents of the bags he had been thrust upon.

Savannah?

Blake‟s face flashed a surprised expression and he was taken aback by what the unicorn had said. Then, as disbelief set in, his eyes narrowed and he added, “Yes. The reason I am here, I was asked, was to collect antibiotics for Savannah.” Blake burst into a fit of coughing as dust from the chaff, itched his oesophagus. “She is unwell and needs urgent medical attention.”

Go to her. Take the medicine you require. Make sure she lives, human, or I will kill you myself. Slowly so you suffer. Then come back here and tell me when she is well. “I don‟t understand. Why the change in tune? I thought I was forbidden to see you, or some such thing.”

Savannah is my sister-in-law. Ferran‟s brother is one of my lovers, a husband if you will. Together we impregnated a mare so we could create Keallan, a being of such magnificent creation he will one day rise up to conquer the unicorns, he said. The song in Blake‟s mind was distant and sad, tinkling like wind chimes moved by an icy breeze. Blake snorted. “From the look of it I would say Logan was your husband! He‟s practically getting off on you.” His stomach turned, disgusted at the sight of Logan fawning over him, rubbing himself on the unicorn. Logan didn‟t respond to his brother‟s verbal jib. He kept on caressing Aidenock‟s neck with tender care, like every stroke of his hand was something to be cherished, to be savoured.

And so he should. He is my familiar, I told you that. Now go, get out of my sight before I change my mind. Take what you need. Report back when Savannah is well. If you don‟t, I will hunt you down.

“I will come back, and when I do, I will be better prepared,” Blake said,

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Unicorn’s Peril dusting off his trousers. “And I will get my brother back too.”

Is that a challenge, human? “What?”

I said, do you challenge me? Aidenock‟s voice had returned to the musical lilt Blake had heard when he first set his eyes upon him. Blake came as close to the unicorn as he dared, his fingers tingled and his cheeks flushed as he tried his hardest not to show his fear. “Yes…I…do.” Then I accept.

**** The statue of Beaudan shimmered in the harsh afternoon light, the reflection it cast blazing and bright upon Ferran‟s body. “It is time, Beaudan, my dear sweet brother. The Keeper‟s son should have the medicine by now. I will ride and meet him halfway. Then, once Savannah is well, I shall return.” There was a pause as Ferran stood and looked upon his brother before he left. “Is that all right with you?” Ferran hesitated for a moment, lifted his head, nostrils to the sky, and neighed. The parrots in the trees took flight as he bolted away, the transfer of his will into a blinding gallop both stunning and swift. He rode to the homestead of the Keeper, charging across the land with a thunder of hooves, not stopping until the house came into view. There was movement. Ferran, squinting from the afternoon sun that blazed into his eyes, saw that it was a human. The human was one of the Keeper‟s sons, and catching his scent, Ferran recognised him as the one named Blake. He smiled, for he could see that the Keeper‟s son carried something. Ferran charged for the boundary of the field and jumped the wire fence with the grace and ease of a steed in a steeplechase. He hoped it was Savannah‟s medicine, for the thunder of his hooves would fall upon Blake‟s body if it were not. He knew his rage would manifest itself into violence should his dear wife pass away, the blame squarely on the Keeper‟s son. Ferran saw the man had noticed him and he had begun to run, to meet him at the boundary line. When closer into the homestead‟s boundary Ferran smelt a musk he recognised immediately, a scent that stuck in his nostrils and bought the memory of what had happened with Beaudan flooding painfully back. It was Aidenock‟s odour and he tried hard not to choke on it. The stench was so pungent and disturbing that it made him retch as he galloped.

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Mark Alders He snorted, trying to cleanse the receptors in his nose of his vile stench. It didn‟t work and the memory of what happened to Beaudan, a solid lump of rock because of what he had done with his brother, seethed in his mind. How he had seduced him, knowing it would incur the wrath of the Elder council of unicorns was beyond his comprehension. He hated him with every fibre of his being, and now his smell invaded him. Just as he had invaded Beaudan‟s will to make him his puppet. When Blake was near and between gasps of deep breaths after the gallop, Ferran uttered, “Have you got the medicine?” “Yes,” Blake replied, his voice distant and his eyes wandered back to the stable. “Good. Climb upon my back. There is no time to lose. Quickly! We ride, swift like the wind back to my glen.” Blake hesitated. “I said, we ride, Keeper‟s son! What are you delaying for? My dear Savannah is in need.” “I-I just saw something that…disturbed me, is all.” Ferran frowned. “You can tell me on the way. We must go…please.” **** A long drawn out moment had passed before Blake spoke. His mind filled with what the unicorn Aidenock had said, and more importantly, about what he had done to his brother. The image of Logan, naked, caressing him and breathing him in stained his thoughts. “Ferran?” “Yes, Keeper‟s son,” Ferran replied, like he was waiting for Blake to speak. They travelled fast. Ferran‟s hooves, rhythmic as he bolted across the last field before the glen of eucalypts, gained speed. Blake was astounded by his momentum across the land. “There is a unicorn in our stable and…and…,” Blake called, his voice fighting the rushing wind. “And what?” “My brother…Logan, he has been. I don‟t know of any other word, but to say he has been bewitched by him.” “He is his familiar now,” Ferran replied with a voice that was oddly calm considering he was at a high beat gallop. Sweat glistened on him. But like a racehorse, he seemed to enjoy the thrill of the ride. The afternoon breeze lashed his long hair, his body free as he thundered across the lands of the farm. “Yes, he said that…his familiar.”

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Unicorn’s Peril “You know what that means, don‟t you, Keeper‟s son?” Blake pondered for a moment, then added, “Besides the fact my brother is crazy for him, you mean?” Ferran jumped over a furrow. Blake, riding on the created cushion of magic, didn‟t feel the jolt and was thankful for it. “He is his anchor,” Ferran said. “All magical beasts, myself included, need to have a grounding. A footing so the magic cannot wander from their bodies aimlessly. But he, your brother, is also his shield.” “Shield?” “Yes. It works both ways. Familiars ground the magic, like an earth wire grounds your created electricity. But should another beast of magic attack…where does the magic go?” Blake‟s stomach churned and the nape of his neck prickled as Ferran‟s words sunk in. “Down the earth wire.” Blake sighed. The penny had dropped. His thoughts, even more desperate than what they were moments ago, were reminded of Aidenock‟s last words and ultimately his challenge he threw down to him. He had to save his brother, he knew that. But how? “Then what should I do?” “Make Savannah well and I will help you. I can smell the unicorn Aidenock upon you, and against him, you will need it. He is deceptive, powerful and beyond remorse for anyone or anything but himself.” “You‟d do that for me?” “One good turn deserves another. But in this case, it‟s more an eye for an eye,” Ferran said with a grunt. Blake was puzzled. “He said he was your brother-in-law.” “That he is. If you think your brother‟s fate has been sealed, my brother‟s has already been dealt. He has been punished for Aidenock‟s crime, his only weakness falling for his extraordinary beauty and creating a monster that now walks this Earth.” “I feel we have a battle ahead of us, and in more ways than one. What with your wife being ill and Aidenock holding both our brothers.” “I like you, Keeper‟s son. You understand?”

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Mark Alders

Chapter Thirteen

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ogan‟s touch left Aidenock‟s radiant coat as he shut his eyes tight. He waited for him to chastise him for his failure to do as he asked, for being so weak. What is the matter? he whispered, his voice a gentle caress in his mind. “I failed you, Aidenock.”

You did not fail me. In fact, I am pleased with the outcome. Your brother will soon join us, I think. And from there we will be magnificent together. Our strengths doubled.

Logan smiled, baring his teeth as his lips tightened. “I will look forward to that. To the day we can both experience your magic.”

And then I can plot my revenge against the ones that banished me from my own kind. But you know, Logan, there is something else I need you to do for me. “Anything, Aidenock.”

I want you to ride with me tonight. I have to find my son Keallan. Then, once he and your brother are with me, I will be complete, my power infinite. The Elder council will wish they never crossed me. “I understand.”

First, we must rest, as I must ride under the cover of night. If others see me too soon, my plans could be foiled, he said, as he slowly circled Logan, his hooves a gentle shuffle on the stable floor. Now sleep here in my stall, and I will transfer more of my magic into you. Then, we will go together, stronger than ever into the night. Logan bowed, entered Aidenock‟s stall, and lay down without hesitation. He felt Aidenock breathe on his back. Aidenock came down next to him, licking him all over once more. As he began to cast his spell, Logan fell into a vision sleep with him. This time he saw in his mind something he didn‟t expect. He saw Aidenock in human form. The beautiful and handsome man before him was even more stunning than when he was in unicorn form, but for one reason,

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Unicorn’s Peril Logan could experience him on the same level, even if it were all in his mind. Aidenock was perfect. White skin, long golden hair and a muscular body that was so fine that Logan gasped. Even his cock was a sight to behold, ripe and ready for Logan‟s enjoyment. “I want to have you, Logan.” Logan‟s lips trembled. The sight of Aidenock‟s cock getting harder and harder stirred him even more than he would have thought possible. Logan ached. His foreskin retracted, revealing his ripe head ready for attention, as did Aidenock‟s. “I will do anything for you, my Aidenock.” Aidenock smiled. “Lay down. Prepare yourself for me. I will bed you so I can transfuse more of my magic into you. You want that, don‟t you?” Logan lay down without thought, opening his legs, touching himself. Precum dribbled onto his trembling stomach. He was untouched, a virgin. But now, above all, he wanted Aidenock to have him. He was ready. If he were to be his first, then Logan would never need for anything else again. Aidenock came over him, licking his face and neck, edging his way up closer to Logan‟s receptiveness. Aidenock had produced so much pre-cum in his excitement that his entry into Logan was smooth, even though pain and pleasure filled. Logan yelled out in his mind. “Shh, my sweet. Let the moment take you away. Let my love for you show you that there is nothing to fear, nothing to worry about anymore.” Aidenock pushed his cock into Logan, deeper and deeper. Logan‟s stomach quivered as he felt the full length of his master within him. He opened his legs wider and used his hands to grapple Aidenock‟s buttocks. Logan wanted more, needed more. “Take me,” Logan said with a deep moan. Aidenock obliged. He pushed so he could sink his cock into Logan deeper and he could do nothing but gasp and grown from the pleasure of having a man inside him. When Aidenock was root deep in Logan‟s rectum, stretching him enough for his ease, he gained a rhythm that made Logan cry out in delight. Aidenock muffled Logan‟s cries by kissing him, sealing his mouth and sending in his tongue. Their wetness touched. Logan‟s muscles and every fibre of his being sang out as he experienced Aidenock on every level. The love may all be in his mind, planted there by Aidenock, but what existed in the mind was a real as anything. Seconds later, Aidenock shuddered, his seed released into Logan‟s

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Mark Alders depths. Aidenock collapsed onto him to embrace him and together they came down from their ecstasy. “I have more to give you,” Aidenock said. Logan‟s mind wheeled once more as Aidenock returned to unicorn form and he projected his magic outwards, the lands of the farm whooshing past as he reached out. He saw, in their shared thoughts, his spire glow bright as it weaved his magic toward Blake. He was the one he needed to join them, to add to their strength and that pleased Logan. While vision sharing, he realised how comforted he was by his presence. His soft lilting voice that strummed his mind was wonderful, food for his soul. They were strong together, and he relished that feeling. Sure, Blake had made a mistake going out with that Josh boy, but if he accepted Aidenock just as he had, then hopefully his brother would forget about such stupid things. Then, and only then, would all be forgiven. Logan smiled.

Blake my sweet, I am here. Come to me, feel my love for you, feel my magic and bathe in my power. I am here, come to me. Come to me, for I need you. I want you, he chanted over and over, directing it out, just like radio

waves from a transmitter, bleeding out across the land. Logan knew he would get to his brother and he looked forward to the time when Blake would walk into the stable, arms outstretched, understanding and accepting them both. He kept on hearing him in his dream, but after a while it became nothing more than background noise to his own thoughts. Before he knew it, he was in a deep, relaxing sleep. **** Rocks and debris tumbled all around Jack as he went down to the beast that had fallen in the pit. When at the bottom, Jack reached out his hand. He pressed his forefingers against Keallan‟s neck to check for a pulse. As soon as his fingers contacted the beast‟s flesh, a spark, like a static charge, shot into him. Jack felt nauseous and his head spun unlike anything he had ever experienced before. This sensation was different, more surreal than anything, for his thoughts were not his own, rather, he was like a witness to events he couldn‟t fathom. He saw Keallan materialise from the darkness that clouded his mind,

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Unicorn’s Peril cornered and screaming for his life. Centaurs, dozens of them, charged at him brandishing spears that flamed with a magical light. Their expressions grim, leering, and all shouted out the beast‟s name as if trying to exorcise him from their sight. Then their spears were thrust into Keallan‟s flesh, making him yelp in agony. That image faded and another came to view. Jack was witnessing snippets of Keallan‟s life. Disjointed, but they painted the same grim picture. This time, brilliant flashes of white, in the guise of unicorns, melded and formed. They charged at Keallan, just as the centaurs did. They struck him with their spires, which sizzled with an intense energy, piercing his flesh, forcing him to gallop away in panic. His black equine coat was wet with blood from multiple gore wounds. Then image after horrible image crammed into Jack‟s mind. All of the dreams seemed to come at once, faster and faster, each and every one of them showing how Keallan had been hunted and forced from the fertile lands near the dams and springs, by both the centaurs and the unicorns, to the dry arid parts of the farm. After what seemed an eternity of torment, Keallan found refuge by his mother‟s side, an ordinary mare, on Jack‟s farm only a short walk from the pumping station. There it was safe and quiet. There, his mother licked his wounds, like he were a foal, forging their bond. The next set of images depicted the night the centaurs, led by one of Keallan‟s fathers, the centaur. The unicorns, led by one that shone with silver, came to Keallan‟s lair and took his mother from him, hurting him mercilessly as he protested, their attacks vicious and unnecessary. He cried out for his mother. Jack could feel the pain as they forced her from him. Keallan‟s mind, even though his body was being physically beaten, thought of her. How she shared everything with him, especially her love. Throughout this entire dream, Jack could see Keallan‟s hurt, his being betrayed by his own fathers and missing his mother. Keallan had hit his darkest hour. Even though he was hated by both centaur and unicorn, being both but neither one himself, all he wanted was acceptance by his father Beaudan and his father Aidenock and the unconditional love of his mother. Beaudan and Aidenock had betrayed their own blood, and even though Keallan was an abomination, he was still their son. That was what the beast couldn‟t understand. How can a parent hate their child? The pain and the sorrow Keallan felt cut deeper than any weapon could, and from that moment on, when his mother was taken away, and his fathers had been revealed to him as the ones responsible for his persecution, he plotted nothing but

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Mark Alders revenge. It consumed Keallan, bittered his feelings, stained his mind and poisoned his body. Every hour, waking or not, he thought of killing both his fathers for being so hateful and killing his mother for being so weak, unable to protect him. Jack understood. He couldn‟t help but feel pity for the beast, even though Keallan didn‟t want it. He then saw how Keallan had survived, eating the dead and diseased sheep of the farm, their flesh raw and maggot infested. How the beast had to survive without conversation from another intelligent being, with no one wanting him, and finally turning all this into a dark and twisted existence for eighteen years. All he was, all he could do, was be consumed by rage and thoughts of revenge. That was no way to live, but had kept him on the path to destruction nevertheless. The images faded into darkness, reflecting the mood Jack was absorbing from all these terrible dreams. Jack was pulled away from Keallan‟s dreams. “What the fuck did you do that for, you dickhead?” Keallan screamed, staring at Jack with malicious intent. The yellow fire in his beady eyes ignited. “I was checking your pulse. I thought you were dead,” Jack stammered, pulling his hand away from the beast‟s neck. “Well fuck me, you‟ve just become my familiar! That‟s all I need, a pathetic human to baby now.” “What?” Keallan got to his feet, clumsily, but he got there. “It means you are now officially my bitch, ripe for me to have my way with.” “Strike me, I think you‟d have other things to worry about, if you ask me. Save your anger for more important things, like becoming better than those that persecute you for a start.” Keallan reared up, blocking the light from the setting sun, covering Jack in his misshapen shadow. “I didn‟t ask you for your opinion, you fucker.” Jack snorted. “You didn‟t answer my question, either.” “For me it‟s all good,” Keallan laughed. “You, my dear Keeper, are now my conduit. I will become stronger because of you. If attacked, and let me tell you for the record, you will bear the brunt of what is done, you are now my shield. How delicious! You dumb ass. Now you see why I didn‟t want a familiar…too much to concern myself with.” “You care about me. In your own twisted way, you care…don‟t you?” Keallan glared, breathing heavily, like a bull would before charging at a matador. “Don‟t push your luck. Now quick, we must get to the spring. It will

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Unicorn’s Peril be nightfall soon. That‟s when they hunt me. Usually.” “I will walk the rest of the way, to let you rest.” “Didn‟t you hear a word I just said, Keeper? I have a familiar now, I‟m stronger already. I can feel your strength coursing through my body. Now get on me. I will carry you.” “I‟m not luggage, to be thrown around, mate,” Jack spat, feeling a strength too, like he‟d been charged with electricity. In fact, he felt twenty years younger, just like he was as old as his sons. “Just get the fuck on me, will you? You can ride how the hell you like, just hurry up!” Jack smiled. It seemed to him they now had an understanding. “Yes, Keallan.” **** Blake had finished administering the first shot into Savannah‟s fever soaked skin.

Blake.

“Yes, Ferran,” he replied, placing the medicine back into its box. “I did not call you, Keeper‟s son,” Ferran replied. Blake knew the centaur was behind him watching his every move. He could feel the weight of his stare upon the nape of his neck driving into him as he worked. “Oh, yeah, you call me that Keeper‟s son thing all the time.” Blake looked around the tent. The only ones present besides himself, were Ferran and Savannah. Then who called him?

Blake, come to me.

“I hear voices in my head, Ferran.” “That is not strange. But only unicorns mind speak.” “Yes, that‟s it. It‟s a unicorn calling me. I think it‟s Aidenock,” Blake said, and he rubbed his chin for emphasis to his ponderings. Ferran took a small step back so his hindquarters poked out of the tent. “He wants you. You must resist. Be strong, Keeper‟s son. Beaudan, my brother was not able to be strong. He now lives eternal.” “I take it that‟s not good, then?” “Not if you want to spend eternity as stone,” Ferran replied with a cough, like the words were stuck in his throat, having to hack them up like phlegm. “Ah.”

Blake, I‟m here. Feel my power. Come to me, Blake.

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Mark Alders **** “Wake up! Wake up, Keeper‟s son. You blacked out and fell onto my beloved Savannah. I thought you‟d caught her illness.” “Aidenock is calling me. I can‟t get him out of my mind, he just won‟t stop,” Blake said, holding his head, his mind spinning and cloudy. The after effect of passing out still clung on, like a bitter taste. “I have spoken to our Seer,” Ferran said with pride. “He will arm you against his magic. For you will not make it through the night otherwise.” “Um, thanks, I think.” A mixture of relief and concern washed over him. Before Blake could turn around to shake Ferran‟s hand in appreciation, unseen hands placed a wreath of garlic and onion weed around his neck. “This is a start,” a voice said, a voice that belonged to the hands that placed the wreath around his neck. “But I will also have to rub ointment into you, covering your flesh so it cannot be penetrated by his magic. Unicorn magic can be powerful.” Blake recoiled, the pungent odour of the wreath almost made him ill. “Let me guess, the ointment will stink to high heaven, too. No wonder I won‟t be able to hear the voices. I‟ll be up all night gagging on this stench.” Craning his neck, he saw the centaur‟s soothsayer that skulked behind him, a creature much older than Ferran. His mane was silver, but not with the lustre of the metal, but of being stripped of colour. The Seer‟s whole body, both equine and human, was a dull grey. He was like an apparition, striking against the subdued light of the tent. A walking ghost, yet alive. “The smell wards off the unicorn‟s evil,” the Seer said, plunging his hand into a large pot. When he pulled it out of the jar, it was covered with a dirty brown fluid, with the consistency of honey. “Now, I must cover you in the protection ointment. Remove your clothes and I will paint you.” “Great! This just isn‟t my day, is it?” Blake mumbled, glaring at the Seer. “Do you think I can have some privacy here?” Ferran laughed. “You think you have something interesting to see, Keeper‟s son? Just cover him Seer. Let him worry about his modesty when he courts a female.” “You‟re all heart,” Blake said, managing a smile. “But I‟ll cover myself thanks.”

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Fourteen

T

he ground beneath Keallan, under the beats of his hooves, whizzed past in a nauseating blur. Jack, riding on Keallan proper, couldn‟t believe how fast the beast galloped up the hill toward the forest of eucalypts ahead. It was like he were a different animal, re-born and with the energy to match. “I can sense something here,” Keallan said, slowing down to a trot when he came to a fork in the path. Keallan went up the left path, the one that disappeared in a tangle of eucalypts, wattles and acacias. No other creature stirred and even Jack felt disturbed by the feeling he got from the glen. Not that he could pinpoint anything, but he felt weary all the same. Or was it simply because Keallan said there was a concern? “What?” “Unicorn filth, that‟s what. I can smell them. Their stench burns my nose. The air is rife with them and it sickens me. Can you not smell them?” Jack had to be honest, the only thing he could smell was the strong yet sweet smell of eucalyptus that had been warmed by the sun all day, clinging around him like the many flies he‟d shooed away only seconds before. “No, I can‟t.” “Like I said, humans are pathetic. And now I‟m stuck with one as my familiar. Just when my life couldn‟t get any sadder.” Keallan sighed. “But there are a lot of centaurs and unicorns in these parts. They cannot all have familiars, can they?” Jack questioned, rubbing his head, realising his hat was gone. He cursed under his breath for losing it. “You think you‟re so fucking fantastic, don‟t you?” Keallan said, letting out a guffaw that echoed off the hillside. “We mostly use other creatures to ground us. Crows and dingoes are the most common, intelligent, resourceful and a damn sight better conversation than what you offer. Humans! Bah!” “Oh right-o, I‟m useless then, am I?” “Like a dick on a mare,” Keallan replied with a quiet, mocking chortle.

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Mark Alders Jack didn‟t reply, he‟d not give Keallan the satisfaction of knowing he‟d riled him. Besides, they approached the grove of eucalypts that strangled the path. The air was thick and gloomy and the last rays of light from the sun before it set didn‟t penetrate the canopy. The light, it seemed, struggled to take a hold in this strange, eerie place. “Be on your guard, Keeper,” Keallan said with a tone of voice Jack had never heard before. Stern, yet at the same time cautious, afraid even. Even his gait, as he proceeded down the path, slowed to a walk. His hooves shuffled across the red dirt, not propelling him forward with the same enthusiasm as before. “You‟re afraid, aren‟t you, Keallan?” “You would be—” Keallan stopped his advance toward the spring. A wind, strong and unnatural, blew through the eucalypts. The leaves whistled eerily and the air closed in around them, making them choke. “Fuck me, it‟s Thor!” The wind howled unabated. If Jack hadn‟t been planted to Keallan‟s equine back by the beast‟s magic, he would have been blown from it. “What‟s going on?” Jack screamed, hoping his voice would carry to Keallan‟s ears against the gale. Standing before them, blocking the narrow path, was indeed a unicorn. It blazed an intense white, with silver that glowed with a power that reflected the unicorn‟s immense hold on his magic. It was magnificent. And Jack, even though he had tended these lands all his life and living among these beings, had never once seen such a glorious creature. He was stunning, like a god of the unicorns himself walked the Earth. The unicorn‟s namesake gave him justice. “Get off me, Keeper. Quick!” Keallan pleaded. “I must deal with this. Keep a safe distance.” Jack, mouth agape, pushed himself off Keallan, pressing his uninjured hand against his withers, breaking the magical cushion and feeling a release of pressure against his legs, like a vacuum seal had been broken. He was free to dismount the beast. How dare you come to this place, beast, Thor said. His voice reverberated through their minds and beyond, so powerful it vibrated the trees and shook the ground. You have no business here. Jack could think of nothing to do but try and keep his distance. He could see Keallan go closer to the unicorn and the unicorn defiantly stand his ground. Jack swallowed hard, his stomach clenched with the thoughts of what could transpire. All weren‟t good.

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Unicorn’s Peril There was an awkward moment where nothing was said and not one of them moved a muscle. Jack stepped forward in the vain hope he‟d not be noticed, but not wanting to miss a single second of the action that unfolded before him. “The Keeper is injured you bastard, and I am here to see him healed,” Keallan spat, puffing out his chest in defiance of Thor‟s words, standing tall and proud before the unicorn.

Don‟t kid yourself, beast. No doubt you injured him yourself and now your guilt consumes you like poison from a festering wound. You are to be destroyed and it is I that will have the pleasure. Arm yourself, for this will be your last fight.

Then, to Jack‟s amazement, lightning struck the earth all around the unicorn, scorching and sizzling the rock and sand until it popped and cracked. There was an ear-piercing neigh from Thor, one so intense even Keallan shielded his ears from it. They both reared, baring their undersides to each other, playing out their ballet before the attack. Both charged with all their might and all their speed, a signal the deadly combat had begun. The wind, now a gale, roared against Jack, cutting him to the bone with its intensity. All he could do was stand there and watch this surreal joust. He held his breath in anticipation as to what would happen, waiting for the first strike. The wind whipped his hair, catching his clothes and making his eyes water. He didn‟t care, he had to know what would happen next. Keallan struck first. The beast sliced Thor‟s side. The strike with his twisted spire marred the unicorn‟s flank, like a cut on white canvas from a knife. Bright red blood flowed from the gash. You‟ve grown stronger, beast, Thor neighed, in anger and agony. He turned to face his enemy. Dust and leaves and debris from the forest eddied around him, fanned by the ferocious winds he commanded. “You‟ve seen nothing yet, Thor,” Keallan said. His wet protruding lips formed a warped smile. “I, however, am not a show pony like you, you fucker! Who needs the wind and the lightning and shit? Just fight me and get it over and done with. Oh, and get over yourself and this pathetic ceremony. I want to finish you once and for all.”

Fierce words from your foul mouth. Let‟s hope for your sake that strike wasn‟t a lucky shot. If it were, you‟ll be laughing in hell and this will be over very soon. I promise. As Thor spoke those words his wound, gashed ugly across him, began to

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Mark Alders heal, sealing up, only leaving a red stain where his own blood had marked him. Jack was amazed to witness such a thing and he looked down upon his own hand, mangled and broken from the beast‟s hoof. What could do such a thing? What magic could heal a wound so quick? “I can‟t believe it!” Keallan spat. His anger flowed forth, reinforcing his words with his hate and his beady eyes widened. “Where‟s your familiar, Thor? You cannot heal so quick without one.”

Do you think I‟d be so narrow minded to only have one? Once that one is spent, to then be weak? Vulnerable to attack? They are all around us, the crows that live near the Keeper‟s homestead, they are all mine. Thor laughed and began his charge again. Strike me again and again and it will do you no good, beast. But I do agree this needs to be over and done with quickly.

Keallan stepped back, hesitating before he too charged once more. Jack got the impression Keallan continued out of necessity, rather than want. A flash of concern passed the beast‟s face right before he screamed a blood chilling battle cry. It was in that moment Jack felt for Keallan. He understood the beast‟s plight, acknowledged the grief he harboured deep inside. For even when Keallan explained why he was at the spring, the unicorn didn‟t want to know. They feared him, Jack could see that in Thor‟s eyes. What was it the beast could do to them? Why did they fear him? The wind lashed and whipped around them. Then, as if arriving for the final assault, crows came from nowhere. Not worried by the wind because they were protected by Thor‟s magic, they landed on the ground next to Jack. They watched in silence as their master battled the beast. Jack turned his attention back to the battle proper. Their horns struck as they passed each other. A crack sizzled through the air, splitting the sound barrier with the same searing intensity as the lightning that pounded the ground near Thor. Again and again Keallan and Thor charged, and again and again they struck each other‟s spires. Jack‟s ears rung with the force that emanated every time they struck. The crows near him, feathers ruffled by the magical wind but not affected in any other way, remained silent, unperturbed by what was going on and only there to witness. Just as he was.

Where is your familiar, beast? You are far too powerful, your magic is too focused to not have one, Thor screamed, frustrated he could not weaken Keallan, or even gain the upper hand in this duel. Tell me now!

Keallan turned, ready for another pass. Sweat glistened on his body and he panted from the exertion. His human chest rose and fell rhythmically,

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Unicorn’s Peril unlike his equine one. “He‟s behind you, Thor, if you must know.”

The Keeper? What have you done? You surely need to be destroyed for this. You know the rules. The Keeper is neutral, not to be used. You soil everything you touch! “Since when have you gone by the rules, fucker? You‟re more a hypocrite than I. You disgust me, you filthy, pretty boy, bastard.”

I will destroy you. The life of the Keeper will have to be the price for such an action.

The lightning, joined by thunder and gale force winds, exploded all around him, lighting up the glen. Thor drew in the breath of the Earth and sapped its power. The unicorn charged, his hooves pounding the path and his spire pointed down so as to strike directly at the beast. Before Keallan could ready himself, compose and refine his stance, Thor came upon him, thrusting the spire at Keallan‟s equine breast with all his might. Keallan couldn‟t parry the blow, unable to get down low enough in time. Thor, as he screamed along with the beast, sunk his horn into Keallan‟s flesh. Jack suddenly felt an intense pain in his chest and in a desperate attempt to ease the burning agony he was burdened with, clutched his hand to his heart. The glen went dark and Jack went dizzy. He stumbled on his feet as his body knotted in agony. The last thing he saw were the crows taking flight, cawing like they were mocking him, catching the wind that Thor had created. The last thing he heard was his own body slumping to the red dirt of the path. Everything went black and silent.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Fifteen

B

lake was miserable. He caught his reflection in a small hand mirror he placed on the floor earlier, a mirror Ferran had given him to assist him in applying the ointment to make sure he painted every square millimetre of his skin in the foul smelling paste. Not that it did any good. For a start the mirror was too small, and even if Blake could hold it, he dared not, for it would stick to him anyway. A situation that would make the task even more difficult than it already was. Blake looked a sight covered in the goo. He couldn‟t believe the turn of events since he came back from town, being placed in one bizarre situation after the other. And here he was, covered in a honey-like substance from head to foot, his hairs all slicked back, stinking like rotting meat and attracting not only the flies, but all the bush midges as well. He was more than miserable, he was uncomfortable beyond words. Every time he moved he had to peel himself off another part of himself. If he were to move his arm, it would be his torso he‟d have to remove it from, if his leg, then from the other one. And what‟s more, everything he touched, whether deliberately or not, he either covered in ointment, or had it stick to him. He shook his limbs about frantically like a cat with a burr in its paw when something did stick to him. Blake sighed, unable to sit down for fear of not being able to get back up again. Ferran entered the tent Blake had been moved to. He supposed it was a guest tent or something. It was smaller than the one he tended Savannah in, but a comfortable size all the same. “The ointment will last until morning, Keeper‟s son. Then you must wash it from you before it stains your pale skin.” Blake nodded, but was only able to open his mouth to reply, the ointment stringing between his lips. “Do you have any idea what it‟s like to have this stuff all over you?” Ferran cracked a smile, only the second Blake had ever seen cross his

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Unicorn’s Peril face. “Yes,” he replied. “Try being as large as me and having six limbs. Then you can complain.” Blake studied Ferran‟s expression, realising the centaur was having a lend of him. “I‟m sorry to complain. I know you are helping me…I appreciate that…I really do.” “I like you, Keeper‟s son,” Ferran said with a laugh, but unlike any laughter Blake had ever heard before. It was deep, in a bass tone, and one that rolled unevenly off his tongue, more like a cackle. Ferran‟s eyes glistened and along with his mirth, slapped Blake on the back. “Are you sure you are not related to a centaur, Keeper‟s son?” Ferran continued his bizarre laughter as he wiped the ointment from his hand. Blake couldn‟t help but smile, the beast‟s laughter intoxicating. “What do you mean?” “You have warmed my heart, and I have a connection to you I cannot explain. Perhaps you are. I don‟t know.” Blake flushed with embarrassment. He found it heart-warming that the creature felt as it did about him, taking the compliment from Ferran as a good sign. “Savannah is doing better, isn‟t she?” “You see. You know me too well. Yes, that‟s right. Her fever has broken. It looks like she will pull through.” “I‟m glad to hear it.” “Now get some sleep. You will need your rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” “How am I supposed to sleep with this stuff all over me?” Blake said frowning, candlelight catching on his ointment-slicked forehead. “The Seer has prepared a special bed for you,” Ferran replied, still chuckling. “It is also protected.” “Just great,” Blake added with a sigh. When he looked at the bed, it was different. More like a bed of ointment soaked leaves than anything else. “I‟ll be picking these leaves off myself for hours.” “Yes, you will. Sleep well, Keeper‟s son. I will see you in the morning.” And with that the centaur left him. **** Blake tossed and turned in his ointment drenched, sticky bed. The leaves plastered to him, as he knew they would. He was unable to get comfortable. A light, magical and with a pale blue luminescence, shimmered around the tent, focusing after a moment on the hand print Ferran had left on his

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Mark Alders back, acting as an open gateway to Aidenock‟s influence. The magic seeped into his skin and then suffused his dreams. Blake stopped moving once he heard the unicorn‟s voice in his mind as it washed over him, working on him like the waves erode the sands of a beach.

Blake, come to me. I am here and you need me. You know that.

Blake moaned. The unicorn‟s magic coursed through him and pumped deeper and deeper with every beat of his heart. He had no choice but to listen. The Seer‟s protection had failed, Ferran‟s kindness his undoing. An image of Aidenock crowded his dream, and he was beautiful. He glowed, and his horn, golden and brilliant, shone like a beacon. His voice radiated out, just as the soft light from his coat did.

Blake, come to me, come to me. I need you. I want you. I am incomplete without you.

Blake‟s eyes burst open and without sound, without hesitation, he got up from his bed of leaves. The bulk of the bed‟s material came with him, stuck to his flesh. But he didn‟t care. He had to answer Aidenock‟s call. It compelled him, urged him onwards. Blake pulled back the tent‟s flap and walked out into the cool, crisp night air. Naked, except for ointment and leaves over his skin. Then, leaving the centaur glen, spurred on by his voice, lilting and hypnotic, he made his way across the fields to the stable where he was waiting for him. ****

It has been done, Logan my sweet. Your brother will be joining us soon, Aidenock said, nudging his muzzle into Logan‟s face. I want you to forgive him for his sins. Remember, we accept him with open arms and love each other just as equally, no matter what. For you both will need to work together to make sure we remain strong. Do you understand? “I understand, Aidenock,” Logan said, consumed by the electric touch of Aidenock upon his cheek.

Good. Now we will wait for him. When he arrives, show him what it is like to have power course through his body, just as you know and just as you enjoy. Understand? “Anything you say. You know I am yours to do with as you please.”

That is my intention. Keep obeying me and you will be rewarded, I promise. “But what if I fail you?” Logan added, stroking him about neck and face with his hand, feeling his charge course through him. His mind hummed with

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Unicorn’s Peril pleasure.

There is no such thing as failure, for you are my familiar. Failure will mean your death. You know that. “I will die for you,” Logan whispered, his eyes not leaving him.

You please me. When Blake has joined us we will ride to Keallan‟s home to see if he is there. Then, when he has joined us as well, I will be complete. We will be complete. “I understand.” **** The stable door slid open. Standing silhouetted by the moonlight was Blake. Aidenock, out of his stall, waited for him to enter.

Hello, Blake, my sweet.

He crossed his path, cutting off his advance into the stable, his light illuminating the darkness. Before Blake could protest he thrust himself upon him, digging his head into his side, letting his coat come into contact with his skin. Blake could not help it and as soon as he touched him he was shocked by a static charge that jolted him, tingling his flesh. A strange erotic sensation coursed through his body. He stopped dead in his tracks. “What did you just do to me?” Blake said.

I am pleased you come before me unshackled. Something your brother has only learned to do, Aidenock replied, his musical tone working on Blake‟s mind. You are now mine. To feel the magic I have will be all that will matter to you soon. Now, join your brother in my bed. I will give you something for your troubles.

“I-I don‟t know,” Blake said, struggling to pass the words from his lips. He had removed all of the leaves while he trudged through the fields to the stable, only stopping to wash his body in the cool waters of the dam at the pumping station. The ointment had been washed away, vulnerable to further magical attacks. But somehow he didn‟t care. He wanted his brother back— no, needed his brother back. Even if that meant dealing with the Devil. Aidenock‟s voice was welcoming. Blake could see how content Logan was, sleeping soundly in the bedding straw. His brother was like a child, comforted by its innocence to the perils of the world.

Don‟t hesitate. You will not be disappointed. Just give me a chance and I will show you how I treat those loyal to me.

“I‟ll give you one chance. Then, if you prove to me you‟re a liar, I‟ll leave, taking my brother with me,” Blake whispered, but with an unmistakable

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Mark Alders sternness.

You are a feisty one. I like that. You will be a wonderful addition to my cause. Again, I accept your conditions. Now, lay down next to your brother. I have something special to share with you, Aidenock said, his voice so beautiful, so wonderful, it caressed his mind and sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. This is something I save for only those who truly deserve it.

Your brother is one, my son the other. Now I am willing to share it with you.

As soon as Blake lay in the hay, Logan stirred. A smile drew across his little brother‟s face. “Blake.” “Hi there…Loges,” Blake stammered. “I forgive you, Blake. I‟m sorry I accused you of such a terrible thing earlier.” “I…I—” Before Blake couldn‟t articulate his feelings to his brother, Aidenock began to lick him. The unicorn started at the crown of his head. The sensation that coursed though his body electrified and frightened him, like he‟d plunged his finger into a power socket. Aidenock worked his tongue across Blake‟s skin, his muscles tightened, his legs and arms jolted and slapped against the hay and the veins in his neck distended. Unabated, he continued to imbue him with his magic. Blue sparks danced between his tongue and Blake‟s flesh, the moisture lubricating the exchange, sending his magic into him faster. Blake‟s mind was a haze of jumbled thoughts and feelings, like it were an overloaded appliance. The room, only illuminated by Aidenock‟s glow, spun, and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from becoming nauseous. Blake moaned, both in delight and anguish. “Relax, Blake. Just let it happen,” Logan said. He placed his hand on his brother‟s shoulder. “Let Aidenock fill you with delight.” Blake continued to convulse as the unicorn licked his flesh. Aidenock had moved down to his neck once Blake‟s head was covered in his saliva, his dark hair plastered to his scalp. But as the creature continued, he began to feel better. His body had awakened to the magic. And now, as this experience persisted, he began to relax and breathe easier. His stomach rose and fell more in rhythm instead of erratically. Blake let his magic flow through him, let it take him away. He began to feel both elated and pleased that he had let him do this to him, understanding why his brother wanted to protect the unicorn.

Logan, my sweet, help me. You now possess my magic. Help me speed up your brother‟s conversion. Join me, do as I do and he will be ours sooner. “Yes, Aidenock,” Logan whispered.

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Unicorn’s Peril Then, as his brother‟s voice faded in his mind, his mind that buzzed and spun with Aidenock‟s enchantment, another tongue caressed his skin. Logan, too, licked him, working on the opposite side of his body to that of the unicorn. Receiving a double dose of the magic, Blake couldn‟t contain himself and again he began to shudder. But this time it was different and he tried with all his might not to become aroused, to no avail. Blake could think of nothing other than the pleasure they were giving him as the magic soaked into his skin.

Don‟t resist. It is nearly done. Then, and only then, can you make up your mind. I will show you how wonderful it will be, to be with me, to be my familiar.

Blake moaned, but before they could completely cover him, so overwhelmed by the joy they bestowed upon him with his magic, he climaxed. A ribbon of his seed trailed over his stomach, only to mingle with the unicorn‟s saliva. Blake screamed out in ecstasy, his echo reverberating through the stable. “There. It is done,” Logan said. He smiled at Blake. His eyes glistened like Aidenock‟s magic did over his brother‟s skin. “My, God, that was…that was incredible. I‟ve never felt like that before…ever.”

You will feel like that all the time, Blake my sweet. If you join me.

“I will give you that chance, Aidenock,” Blake said with a gasp, the final throws of ecstasy still coursing through his body. The unicorn‟s magic shimmered across him where their saliva had been placed, cooling his flesh in the crisp night air. But as Blake‟s body returned to normal and his hormones counter-acted the magic and elation he felt in his body, something inside, deep in the pit of his soul, stirred. It was as if a suppressed memory, something from his past, had been woken. He saw, for a fleeting moment, a horse-man. The sensation confused Blake, not understanding the recollection while still intoxicated with the remnants of Aidenock‟s magic.

I now have both of the Keeper‟s sons on my side. There is one final piece to the puzzle. Then, my dear sweet men, we will be powerful together. Nothing will be able to stop us.

“We will ride with you, Aidenock, to seek out your son, no matter where you go. No matter how long it takes,” Logan said, getting up from the bedding hay, offering his hand to Blake with a welcoming smile.

Then we ride.

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Chapter Sixteen

J

ack woke, unable to see, for darkness surrounded him. He blinked, making sure it wasn‟t his eyes, but the environment around him. “Where am I?” he screamed. His voice echoed around him and he now knew he was inside something. But what? “Just shut the…fuck up,” Keallan said, gasping for air. His voice was thin and his breath deep and laboured. “Well, where am I?” Panic rose within him, for he realised he couldn‟t feel below his neck. He could only manage to turn his head. The dark still consumed his vision and gave away no secrets to his predicament. “I…I dragged your sorry arse into this cave. I couldn‟t make it to the…the spring.” “Right-o.” Jack still wasn‟t able to understand why he couldn‟t move. “I thought you said you‟d be…I don‟t know, resistant to magic because you‟ve got me. Why do you sound like you‟re injured?” Jack heard shuffling, like Keallan was moving closer to him. “Grow a…brain, Keeper. Thor isn‟t dumb. But I got the fucker good,” Keallan said, ending his words in a splutter and a fit of coughing. Jack didn‟t reply, letting Keallan catch his breath before he could continue. Upon hearing the beast and being paralysed himself, there certainly was more to be told. “He used his horn like a sword and plunged it into me…that…you saw. But before he could use his magic to finish me off I grabbed his pretty boy head tight…and…twisted the fucking thing. His precious horn was ripped from its roots inside his thick skull. And now…now I have it. It‟s my…my final farewell to the mighty Thor.” Jack couldn‟t believe what he had heard, but let the beast continue nevertheless. “He‟ll take a while to heal from that, let me tell…you. Serves him right. The bastard.” Keallan‟s words were again interrupted with spasmodic coughing that drew the breath from him, leaving him gasping for air. “He

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Unicorn’s Peril thought he‟d try it out, change the direction of his charge at the last minute to catch me out. Arsehole, he never fights fair.” Jack couldn‟t contain himself any longer. “So why am I alive then?” He heard Keallan sigh, then wheeze, then splutter. “Because it was a physical attack, not a magical one. Thor didn‟t want to harm you, but needed to get to me. You‟re the la-dee-da Keeper, after all.” Even though Jack couldn‟t see, he knew the beast was sneering. Keallan‟s lips were probably salivating, his fluid dripping from his chin as his grotesque mouth smiled. Keallan continued, “But Thor couldn‟t risk that I was telling him the truth…or even lying for that matter. So that‟s why he didn‟t use his power on me.” “I see. You‟re feared by them no matter what you do. I feel for you, mate.” “Shut the fuck up! I don‟t need a cripple‟s praise.” Jack ignored Keallan‟s retort. “So what happened to me then?” “The horn‟s still in me. I thought you‟d worked that out. It‟s still fucking in me, emanating power. Get it? That power is what paralyses you, nothing more. Remember, you are my magical conduit, not my physical one. Lucky for you.” There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Jack whispered, “I‟m sorry.” Keallan moved again and to Jack it sounded like he was trying to get comfortable. “What are you sorry for, Keeper?” Keallan coughed. “Sorry I didn‟t know what to do to help you.” Keallan shuffled again, his movements echoed through the cave. He had dragged his limbs across the ground. “What did you say?” “I said I—Oh, never mind. Just ignore me.” Jack felt a tingling sensation in his extremities, like pins and needles. His limbs ached with a dull pain. “I can feel my hands and feet.” “The charge in the horn is wearing out. And I did hear what you said. I just couldn‟t believe it, that‟s all. No one has ever tried to…help me. Well, my father Aidenock did, but he turned out to be a useless self-centred bastard. He only wanted me for my power.” “Well, I don‟t have power.” Jack was able to move his legs. “And this is why I am surprised…Jack. You give without thought of reward. I was…” Keallan couldn‟t finish his sentence. He spluttered and coughed too much to be able to form coherent words, unable to pass his breath over his larynx evenly. “You called me by my name?” “It‟s your name, isn‟t it?”

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Mark Alders “Yes.” “Well then, why get all uppity about it?” “You‟ve never called me—” Jack cut himself off, deciding to change the subject. “How far is it to the spring from here? I may be able to bring some of the water back to help heal you.” “How? You going to drink it then piss on me?” Keallan snapped. His voice dripped acid, uneven and jarring. Back to normal as far as Jack could tell. “No. I mean—oh, forget it. Why did I even bother to tell you? I‟ll find a way, even if I carry it in leaves or something. But I will do it so that you can take out Thor‟s horn. Say, why are you leaving it in you?” “Ever pulled a plug from a full bath?” Keallan said, his voice once again weak and his words slurred and ill-formed. “The horn is magic and has anticoagulant properties.” “And that‟s another thing, I can‟t see you…I mean, you usually glow. Why can‟t I see you?” “Jack?” “Yes, Keallan.” Jack was taken aback by the beast‟s sudden change in register. “I‟m sorry. My tongue is vile, I admit. But…but, don‟t…don‟t leave me. II don‟t want to die alone.” Jack was able to pull himself up onto his knees. He felt around the cave floor, seeing if he could pin-point Keallan‟s location. The echoes around him were deceptive for his depth perception, but he managed to find Keallan in the pitch dark. Not too far away from where he had woken. “You‟re not going to die.” “The only reason we are having this conversation is because I have two hearts, one equine and one man. The equine one has been run through, courtesy of our friendly neighbourhood power hungry unicorn. The other, beating for all of my bulk, is palpitating with strain. I can feel it and it‟s quite a drain on me, let me tell you,” Keallan whispered, gulping for the stale cave air as if to emphasize his words. Jack could smell the beast as he came closer to him. Keallan was sweating, probably from shock more than anything, his coat cold and clammy to the touch. “I can‟t stay here and let you die. I am the Keeper, as you say,” Jack said with force. “And I keep all on my land as best I can, from the sheep that get themselves stuck in the mud by the dam, to the centaurs that need a marriage witness. I am not letting you die, you hear me, mate?” “As I said before, you are such a noble creature. And it pleases me to

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Unicorn’s Peril know you consider me something worthy of saving…even though, in the example you gave, I fall somewhere between mindless, pathetic sheep and self-righteous centaurs.” Jack sighed. “I‟m not noble.” “You are as noble as I am hideous.” “I have kept my life a secret…I have done things I regret and in my foolishness, kept everything I could from Logan and Blake.” “Are you talking about how you fucked Valerie while you were wed to that plain Jane wife of yours?” Keallan said, his cough phlegm drenched and wheezing. “Bah, you‟re better off getting your rocks off on your mistress. At least she can produce good looking children. That Josh kid looks damn fine compared to the two weedy things you have under your roof at the moment.” “You may be dying as you say, mate. But your words cut deep.” Jack pulled his hand off Keallan in reaction to the harsh words the beast spoke. Jack couldn‟t help but feel contaminated by them, like a stain that wouldn‟t wash off, he felt soiled. The words of the beast had marred his thoughts and darkened his mind. “Anyway, how‟d…how‟d you know about that?” “I‟m only having fun, Jack. Let me have that before I pass on. But if you must know, I read your mail. I have done it for years,” Keallan chortled, his voice wavering between his normal voice and one in agony. “You‟re a bastard!” Jack yelled, his voice reverberated and sounded harsh as it echoed, reflecting his intention perfectly. “Even when those around you mean well, you‟re a bastard.” “I‟ve never had anyone around me before to worry. Mind you, that‟s the first time I‟ve heard you curse. Good for the soul, isn‟t it?” Keallan‟s voice was thick with fluid, his wheezing unable to break the effect of the flow of blood that seeped through the tear in his flesh inflicted by the spire. Jack knew this, for Keallan sounded worse each and every time he spoke, no longer moving either, only to pant. Jack stood up, able to do so, his paralysis easing to a mild ache throughout his body. “I won‟t be long—Oh and, Keallan, you are noble. Just thought I‟d tell you that.” Jack felt Keallan‟s hand grasp his ankle. “If you go…and you don‟t have to…don‟t be long.” “I won‟t be.” “When you get back…” Keallan coughed up a fit again, his voice weak, faded, even with the echo emphasising his strained words. “I have much to tell you. The spring is only a short distance from here…just keep to the path.” “I‟ll be back to hear your story. And I‟ll bring the water, even if I have to

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Mark Alders carry it in my bare hands and make many trips, I will do it, right-o?” “Thank you.” **** Ferran sniffed the air and strummed his hoof along the dirt, leaving a channel upon it. He snorted. “Something has happened to the Keeper‟s son. I can feel it, Seer,” he said, looking out to the golden fields on the edge the centaur glen. The Keeper‟s homestead was somewhere in the distance, unseen by night‟s cloak, even though the landscape was soaked in moonlight. “He is no longer in his bed,” the Seer replied, bowing his head. “I feared as much. I have grown used to his company. I find it pleasant. We must get him back.” “The ointment, even if washed from his skin, will have soaked in just enough. If the unicorn warlock tries to seduce him, he will see reason, given time.” “A pox on your witchcraft, Seer. Guile and strength is what is needed and the Keeper‟s son is a strong one. His mind, even if taken in by his magic, will soon sort itself out. I guarantee it.” “You did something, didn‟t you?” Ferran chose not to answer the Seer, for now. He had more important things on his mind. “Get me four of my finest centaurs. I will ride to the Keeper‟s homestead tonight, under the guiding light of the Moon. One good turn, in this case, deserves many in return.” “You‟re not going without me,” a female voice said, soft and smooth and welcome to Ferran‟s ears. “Savannah! You‟re up and well already?” His eyes widened. “Yes. Thanks to the Keeper‟s sons magic,” she replied. Her voice possessed a wonderful lyrical quality, a far cry from the day before. “We must save him. And, Ferran my husband, I think it‟s high time we paid our brotherin-law a little visit.” “Now that pleases me.” He touched her beautiful golden hair, which cascaded down past her shoulders to fall onto her breasts. “No. You please me, Ferran.” Her lips glistened in the pale ambient light. He smiled at the sight of her. Then, before he could register another thought, or take in her beauty, she pressed her lips against his in a tender kiss. Savannah‟s hair, no longer drenched and ragged from fever, shone. As did her coat. Ferran, unable to control his urges, caressed her human back. He ran his fingertips down her spine until he found her withers.

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Unicorn’s Peril “Not now, but later we will,” she said with a start and a gentle giggle, knowing full well his intentions. He smiled at her. “I am pleased you are back with me. Now we must save the one that saved you, just in case my touch did him no good.” “You made him your familiar, didn‟t you, my husband?” Ferran‟s smile widened. “Yes. One cannot serve two masters. I have planted the seed, Savannah. He, however, will have to nurture it. I have great faith that he can dispel the unicorn‟s power. He is strong.” The sound of hooves pounding the ground thundered behind them. The sound didn‟t stop Ferran from expressing his love for his wife. Again they kissed, their tongues touching before their lips sealed over each other as his centaur guards gathered around.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Seventeen

T

hor found it difficult to blink the dust from his eyes, and they stung. The blood that had poured from the great hole where his spire once protruded had dried, sticking his eyelids like they were contaminated with conjunctivitis. His horn, a symbol of not only his power and a focus for that energy, but of his masculinity, his status as an alpha male within his clan, was gone, taken from him. Ripped from his crown by the abomination. He was a pathetic horse. An ugly grey stallion stared back at him when he looked upon his reflection in the waters of the spring. A hideous image that shimmered and danced on the surface, made even more macabre by the moonlight. He sighed, the hole in his head like a pit that sunk his hopes. All he could think of, all he could see, was how he wanted to be a beautiful unicorn once more. His unicorn features, the striking silver of his mane, tail and hooves, were all but gone. Only a filthy, washed out grey remained. His horn had been forced from him by the beast and the loss he felt overwhelmed him, so much so he shed bloody tears into the Waters of Truth. His mind clouded with rage and self-pity, increased with every red drop into the pool. He was the colour of a common stallion and with the dowdiness to match. Thor hated being like this. Hated how he had let the abomination take the only thing that mattered to him. How could he have been so foolish? Thor bathed his head in the water. The blood and the grime from the fight seeped off his dull coat, spreading out from him to taint the spring. He felt a deep sorrow, an emptiness that couldn‟t be quantified. He felt nothing but anguish as he washed himself. Once cleansed, feeling the water‟s power seep into his pores, Thor realised the bleeding had stopped. No longer did dark blood trickle down his nose, enter his nostrils, or drip off his eyelids, only to congeal and stick to him later. But he knew the wound would take days to heal, for the horn was ripped out by its roots. And what saddened Thor even more than the loss of his spire was the fact it could be months before it would be fully formed, to

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Unicorn’s Peril once more be a beacon of power upon his poll. The beast had dealt him the deadliest blow he could. Thor, in his bitterness, his loneliness, smashed the water with his hoof out of frustration, of hate, of thoughts of revenge, and above all, anger. The croaking of frogs and the chirping of cicadas ceased as he struck the water in his rage. Silence stood with him at the water‟s edge now. You may have taken away what I am, beast. But I will hunt you down and

kill you…mark my words.

He left the spring and headed down the eastern path, knowing he would have to return each day to maintain the water‟s healing powers. Too long without the soothing waters upon his wound could mean many more months as a common stallion, something Thor couldn‟t bear. When he walked he hung his head and dragged his hooves across the dirt, dust trailing behind him. Thor shuddered and his tail flicked as he cast his mind back to his reflection in the water that wobbled and danced ugly before him. The image burned into his memory, mocking his weakness and taunting his failure to kill the beast. He had failed as the Master of the unicorns. He came up to a canter, not knowing why, but wanting to do it all the same. Travelling downhill along the eastern path, his gait became an awkward gallop. Tree branches whipped his coat, some cutting him. In his rage induced stupor, the path, also dark from the canopy, was hard to follow. The breeze, usually his ally, dried his eyes. But he didn‟t care. What good was it to try and be graceful, to cross the land like the wind, when just a common horse? In the distance, at the foot of the hill, and where the path forked, he saw a stallion asleep. It was alone under a mighty eucalyptus. The tree stood as an outpost to mark the edge of the Keeper‟s farm and the beginning of unicorn territory. The stallion was in unicorn land. Thor felt something other than his loss, than the deep loneliness he suffered. Mixed in with his sorrow, his self-pity, was a wanting. A wanting for Aidenock‟s touch, his strength, and more importantly his companionship. To be with him, to show him his love, that was what he now desired. He snorted and came to a halt in a cloud of dust at the fork in the path. Moonlight reflected off his coat and gave him a small semblance of the qualities he used to possess when his spire was intact. He knew he couldn‟t have Aidenock, not yet. Not until he was whole again. But this stallion, this common horse, would do for now. Aidenock would be his for the taking later. For the here and now Thor had other needs, other

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Mark Alders wants. He had to satiate the loss, reaffirm that even though he was weak, he was still a unicorn. He galloped toward the stallion as fast as his hooves could carry him. The wind, once his to command, could no longer be called upon. He made it down to him as would any mortal horse, pounding the ground with his hooves instead of caressing a cushion of conjured air as he was used to. He arrived, breathing heavily. Sweat glistened and beaded off his coat. He announced himself with a neigh that pierced the still night air, one that surprised him with its register. The stallion, startled from his slumber, reared up and spiralled his hooves in front of him in an attempt to ward him off.

You will submit to me. I am Thor, your master.

The sight of the stallion towering above aroused him. His sheath loosened and the full extent of his shaft fell from his body, as dark as the night that hid his lust. He, too, then reared up, showing him his intention, neighing as if to warn him.

I will take you whether you like it or not. Now submit. I will not say it again. I am not weak, so don‟t cross me.

The stallion came crashing to the ground. His hooves thumped the dirt to return his warning. He let out a nervous whinny in reply. That was when Thor struck. He beat a hoof into his shoulder when he returned to the earth. The full weight of his body came down upon the stallion and pounded his flesh. His eyes, bulged in fright, reflected his pain and he neighed in agony, the pitch of it more like a scream than anything. Thor, seeing this, charged at him. He cornered him between the eucalyptus and the wire fence that bordered the Keeper‟s fields. He tried to turn and run from him, but could not. His only defence to flail his head in an attempt to ward him off. The stallion was trapped and Thor knew it. This aroused him more.

You will not get away, stallion. I will have you and you will then be among the privileged few to have been with the master of unicorns. I am not weak, and no one can say that I am. You will feel my strength, even though I no longer possess the magic. I am strong, you hear me?

Thor kept his body between the stallion and his freedom, pushing him aggressively around with his muzzle so that his hind quarters were exposed to him, his head invariably pressed against the fence. The stallion had no way to escape. Thor kept him cornered with his bulk, even when he tried to turn, still trying to get away. He annoyed him with his perseverance, for he wanted to get

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Unicorn’s Peril on with this, relieve the tension he felt inside, quench the loss. It was then he climbed upon his back. His legs slammed against his flanks when he did so. The dull thumping sound of flesh being stuck by his hooves struck out in the night air. The stallion kept neighing, like he was shrieking. Thor‟s shaft slapped wet against his hind legs as he moved along his back. He pulled himself up so that his head could be near his. He snorted with a hunger for him, exposing his teeth to pull at his ears, to keep him submissive to his will until he was done.

Don‟t struggle, it‟ll be over soon.

The stallion tried to rear up again and saliva flew from his trembling lips. But the weight of Thor‟s bulk and his hooves clamped tight on his shoulders, made it impossible for him to do anything other than writhe in protest as he was entered. Thor then sunk his shaft into him. Seconds later, he let out a sharp neigh as he raised his head to the heavens. The sweat that once clung to him now fell from his coat as he pushed himself off the stallion. His hot, heaving bulk glistened in the moonlight that filtered from the eucalyptus and droplets of sweat pounded the ground by his hooves.

Now get out of my sight, stallion. You have served me well and I will now reward you with your freedom. ****

Thor heard hoof falls approach and he rose from his resting place beneath the eucalyptus. It was Oran that came down the path from the spring, looking like he was searching for something.

Oran, my friend, I am here. It is me, Thor. Thor? Oran replied. Both surprise and horror mirrored his expression

and voice.

Yes, it is I, Thor said as he approached his servant. What happened to you? You look…you look— Like a horse! You can say it, Oran. I have the grotesque exterior of a common stallion. Anyway, suffice it to say I left the beast in a worse condition than how I look, let me assure you. The beast? Yes, Oran. The beast came to the spring, surprising me while I drank in its waters, Thor lied. His voice wavered and he found himself unable to look at his servant directly.

Don‟t be embarrassed. The beast is powerful. You should not have tackled

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Mark Alders him by yourself, Thor. He is the abomination. This is what the Elder council meant. They will be furious when they find out about this, Oran whispered, bowing his head so that his muzzle moved the sand. A cloud glided across the sky to shield the Moon. Total darkness fell upon them for a brief moment. Thor looked up. He yearned for the day when he could control the wind once more. He‟d make the sky black for weeks, showing the world the torment he had endured.

Who‟s going to tell them? You? My life is forfeit, you know that. I would have to tell another for it to get to their counsel. Thor stomped a hoof into the dirt. You will do no such thing, Oran. The beast is mine…and you‟d be wise to listen to my warning. Why? Oran snapped back defiantly, standing tall in front of his master. He lifted his head to look into his master‟s eyes.

You will obey me, Oran. I am the master of all unicorns, take heed of that fact, Thor said as he moved close to Oran, so close he could feel the breath come from his servant‟s nostrils.

You have no power now, Thor. I don‟t mean disrespect, but you cannot fight the beast alone. Not then, and certainly not now, Oran added as he bowed his head once more.

I was surprised. I could have dispensed with him easily were I prepared. Thor knew Oran was right. It was one thing to have a servant that obeyed blindly, without question. It was another to have one that offered useful counsel. But I apologise, Oran. You are right. I am weak now, but soon I will be strong…and then you and I will hunt the beast down, to the ends of the Earth if we have to. And before he begs for his life we will smite him, crush him like he has my spirit tonight. He will pay, of that I can make a guarantee. Oran kept his bow low. You are very wise. Now, how are the dingoes? They await your orders, my Master. Good. Tell them to wait for a little while longer. I must be at my peak before I can retrieve Aidenock. The beast may be strong, but if he is working his magic, as I know he is, he will be stronger and more of a challenge. Yes, Thor. Now leave me. I have other matters to attend to. I must convince the eldest son of the Keeper to join our cause, wherever he is.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Eighteen

B

lake moaned. His face twitched, his dreams were invaded by strange images, uncomfortable like the bedding straw he lay naked upon. The hay irritated his skin, like the images prickled his mind. A centaur coalesced, created before his eyes, as a watercolour painter would form and create images with a brush on paper. The beast, a strange combination of a man and a horse, lurid to him, frightening even, yet he couldn‟t help but be compelled by the image of it. The sight of the bizarre beast towering above him, fully formed in his mind, was striking, and it sapped his attention. Blake, unable to look away, couldn‟t help notice the beast was someone he recognised. The centaur then spoke to him as the last remnants of its image set. Its voice was smooth, like velvet. What the beast said when it spoke Blake remembered, like he had already participated in the conversation and was now recalling it, word for word, inflection for inflection. The banter he spoke with was friendly, like it were known to him. Blake felt the centaur slap him upon his back. Its warm touch was as welcoming as his smile, seeping through him, beckoning him to be a part of something larger than himself. The candle light flickered in a breeze he couldn‟t feel and enhanced the centaur‟s features. It was then, as Blake studied it, that he realised he knew the beast. Blake placed all the pieces together. It was Ferran, Lord of the Centaurs. His eyes burst open. The reality of where he was came flooding back. The straw rustled and irritated when he moved. He got to his feet. He scratched himself all over as best he could, not able to get to the middle of his back, the place that suffered the most. The prickling sensation annoyed and distracted, like ants crawled upon his skin. He was sure he was allergic to straw. Even his eyelids, armpits and the soles of his feet itched, much to his chagrin.

Not able to sleep, Blake my sweet?

Blake turned to face Aidenock, surprised he was awake. “Um…yeah I…I

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Mark Alders find it difficult to sleep at the best of times,” Blake lied, seeing his brother asleep beside the unicorn, holding him. Logan was content, for he snored from his open mouth like he used to when he was a boy. Your brother sleeps soundly. How different you are, Aidenock said, the music of his voice hushed and reverent. He spoke as a father would a baby.

You are probably still overwhelmed from all that has gone on this night.

“Yeah, that must be it. The ride was long and what with everything else, I think …” Blake searched for words, trying not to sound too distant. “A lot has happened tonight, is all.”

It was a shame you could not see my son. He would have liked to see you both, my two strong handsome familiars.

“Likewise.” Blake‟s eyes narrowed. He couldn‟t explain it fully, but somehow, no matter how much magic Aidenock infused into him, how much he washed his mind with his influence, he wasn‟t as infatuated with him as his brother was. Did this centaur, the one from his dream, have anything to do with it? Blake struggled to recall, his mind going cloudy the more he concentrated.

Come, lay with me. My heartbeat will soothe your weary mind.

Blake obeyed. He closed his eyes, and the moment his head came down upon his beautiful white coat the rhythm of his heart did indeed strum his ears. His mind coursed back to the vision of the centaur. It was like the dream was waiting for him to rest his eyes again, having more tales to tell. It invaded his dreams and crowded out his thoughts, like it did the first time. The centaur, the one he now knew as Ferran, galloped across field, both tended and fallow. Onwards he went, with the speed of the wind and the grace of a racehorse. His destination was their homestead, his home and the place he had grown up. A place where he now slept in the stable instead of his comfortable bed. Blake stirred, but the vision kept him from opening his eyes, not yet done spinning its yarn. Ferran was travelling with others and one of them Blake recognised as Savannah. Savannah! Her name pounded in his mind, blowing away the clouds that blocked his reason. Savannah was the centaur he had treated earlier in the night. It was the centaurs that warned him of Aidenock. They were coming to him. To help him. Release him from the magical coil that restricted his freedom. His mind then became clear, to think his own thoughts. The vision done, he understood. Blake‟s eyes opened. He pulled his arm away from the unicorn, for he realised he was holding onto him like his

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Unicorn’s Peril brother was. It was then, in that moment, when he looked upon Logan lying naked, clinging onto Aidenock like he were a pup at a teat, that he saw everything for what it was. Both he and Logan belonged to him, as one would own an object. They were this beast‟s conduits, bastardized for his own magical needs. Blake‟s stomach turned. He remembered everything. He remembered the horror of seeing Logan in the stable with his dad‟s shotgun. Of it firing. How he challenged the unicorn and then, shamefully, became captured in his magical snare, devoid of his will. Blake clasped his mouth, unable to believe not only what had transpired this night, but also the realisation that these memories had been deliberately erased from his mind. What evil was he? Blake stood up, the recollections that now flooded his mind too painful to digest. His thoughts were tainted, like they were from spilled blood by his own hand. It was his fault he wasn‟t strong enough to resist him, his fault he couldn‟t help his brother. He became overwhelmed with shame and it was then he felt like throwing up onto the straw. Crashing into his mind were the moments, recounted in great detail, he endured while he was under Aidenock‟s spell. The moments where he was forced to do unspeakable things, things he would have never created in his worst nightmares. How the unicorn had seduced him, licked him, then sickeningly involved his brother in this debauchery. Blake‟s skin crawled as he remembered the ride into the night, the journey to search for his son an excuse for him to deprave them further. Both Logan and himself, soaked in the unicorn‟s magic, undulated and writhed in ecstasy upon his back while he galloped like the wind across the fields. The ride ended, as did the infusion of magic into him earlier in the night, with his seed spurting from his body. It sickened him, yet he was relieved he could now see the truth. Blake did throw up. He heaved and coughed digested food and bile from his stomach. His muscles contracted violently, in protest to his thoughts. Blake felt dirty.

Are you not well, Blake my sweet?

He heaved more and more, a sticky sweat covering him as his body heated from the exertion. He shuddered in pain. “I…need to get some…fresh…air,” Blake said, his voice hoarse, strained from the contents of his abdomen passing up his oesophagus and over his larynx. Vomit filled saliva dripped from his chin, the final insult.

I give you permission to leave my sight, but be back as soon as you can.

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Mark Alders Don‟t be too long, or I will come and find you, Aidenock said, his voice as harsh as the memories that had induced his heaving. When you return, we will all fill each other with my magic. I need my familiars strong and ready at all times. I assure you, you will feel better then. Blake wiped his face with his forearm. A dirty trail streaked his arm. “Thank you. I won‟t…be long.” Before Blake left the stable he looked back at his brother. Logan was still asleep, cradled close to the unicorn. Aidenock was licking him and Logan, whether knowingly or not, rubbed his genitals against him. Blake wished he could take his brother away from him right now, to save him from this beast. But he also knew, as he had experienced it, that he was powerful, able to make a man forgo his reason. He didn‟t want to forfeit his thoughts to perform for him ever again. Once outside, the cool night air hit his sweat covered body, like he‟d been dropped in ice water. He shivered and gooseflesh formed. His skin tightened until every hair stood up to attention. But he didn‟t care. He had other things on his mind. He turned, divots in the sand the result. In the distance the centaurs did indeed approach, as the vision foresaw. Blake had to get to them before they were discovered by Aidenock, for a plan formed in his mind as to how he was going to save his brother. His priority, first and foremost, was to take Logan from him without harming him. **** Ferran approached the homestead. Savannah and his best warriors were by his side, a platoon of centaurs that had one purpose, one want. To see to it they rescued the Keeper‟s son from the unicorn‟s hold. The homestead drew near and Ferran could see Blake approach them. He raised his hand. His platoon stopped as soon as his hand was at its height. Only the dust, their constant companion as they thundered across the fields, moved once they were still. “The Keeper‟s son is nearly upon us,” Ferran commanded. “Wait here while I meet with him. Savannah, you can join me.” “I was coming anyway,” she replied, already taking flight, dead grass and debris kicked up onto him as her hooves dug the dirt and she rose up to a gallop. They came to the Keeper‟s son. He was naked. His human skin softly

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Unicorn’s Peril glowed, reflecting the waning moonlight. The eastern horizon glowed, a new day was about to be born. The birds and crows were coming to life, to serenade the arriving sun. “You heard my call, Keeper‟s son?” “I heard. Thank you, Ferran. I don‟t know what I would have done without your help,” Blake replied, short of breath, for the run he had built up to get to them as quick as he could left him gasping for oxygen. “We will ride to your home. Get upon my back,” Ferran added. Blake, sweat covered, dirty and short of breath, looked down at his feet, his head hung low. “Whatever is the matter, Keeper‟s son?” Savannah stepped forward. “If you stopped blustering for a minute you would see he has something to say. Please, Blake, say what your mind wants. You are not restricted here.” “I have a plan. I want to get Logan away from him, but I know he will come to harm if not done right. From what I understand about all this, that is.” Ferran snorted. The smell of the unicorn warlock wafted off Blake to his nostrils. The Keeper‟s son‟s body was rife with his stench and he recoiled from it. “That‟s right. He will bear the brunt of any magical attack. And magic will be the only thing that could harm him.” “He can‟t be harmed…please.” “Go on, Blake,” Savannah whispered. “Tell us, and we will do whatever it is that is needed.” Blake looked up. His eyes glistened, a smile drawn upon his dirty, dusty face. “Like you did for me, I must plant a seed of doubt into his mind. I ask that you take me somewhere when day breaks.” “Anywhere you wish, Keeper‟s son. Anywhere but within human habitation, naturally. We can never be seen.” “No worries. You can wait for me in the bushland at the back of his house. You will not be seen there.” “Whose house, Blake?” Savannah interjected. “Aidenock‟s influence is based on a lie,” Blake began. He sucked in the air to fill his lungs, then let it go to continue, “I must shatter that lie. I need you to take me to Josh Carter‟s house. Then, when he comes back here with me, I can begin to unravel his spell. I cannot take the truck. Aidenock will become suspicious if he knows I have left the farm.” Ferran bowed his head. “We will try it. If it fails, we do it my way.” “Agreed.” Blake replied, his voice stern.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Nineteen

J

ack made a rudimentary container from a large curved strip of eucalyptus bark, having to cup his hands at either end to contain the Waters of Truth. He traversed uphill along the path that was both winding and loose underfoot to the cave nestled amongst an outcrop of rocks. The journey proved difficult and quite a challenge. Jack had to return to the spring on more than one occasion to refill the vessel. Grass and native straw flowers sprouted before his eyes where the water spilled onto the dry, dusty earth. The water was magical and time seemed to accelerate and defy the laws of nature with whatever came in contact with it. Coming into the cave, dawn‟s first light kissed the rocks by the entrance, thankfully giving him light to guide him. Jack ducked his head, remembering from when he had left that the roof of the mouth of the cave was low. Water sloshed from the lip of the bark as he bent down and a green carpet sprouted near his boots at the cave opening, beautifying the red dirt. Inside, the darkness clung to him as it did the night before. Jack listened for the beast, but couldn‟t hear the beast breathe. Keallan‟s laboured wheeze he remembered well, but was now absent. “Are you all right, Keallan?” Jack shouted, his echo reinforced his worry. Jack found the beast before he could answer. He tripped up on one of his legs, the water from the container spilled out and Jack let out a gasp. Did it go over Keallan or fall uselessly to the floor, only to decorate the cave‟s ground once more? Jack felt around and touched the beast. Relief washed over him as he felt that Keallan‟s coat was cold and wet. The Waters of Truth had indeed found him. He felt the water soak into the beast‟s skin, working its magic. But still the beast didn‟t stir. “Keallan, wake up.” No answer. “Keallan! For God‟s sake, stop mucking around and answer me, will you, mate?”

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Unicorn’s Peril Again no reply, other than his own voice returning to him, many, many times over until it faded into oblivion. Jack rubbed his hand along Keallan‟s equine body, finding where his human part began. Then, as he worked his hand up systematically, like he were reading Braille, he found the beast‟s neck. Jack checked Keallan‟s pulse. It was weak, but present and Jack sighed relief. The beast wasn‟t dead as he had first feared. “C‟mon, mate, stay with me,” Jack whispered. Keallan stirred. His hoof scraped along the dirt. The sound, even though awkward, was welcome to Jack‟s ears. He sat down beside the beast, waiting for the light outside to intensify enough so he could determine Keallan‟s condition. Had he fetched enough water for his wound? Did he have to get more? Or was the beast already healed once the first dose had been given? “I plan to,” Keallan spluttered. “And if you want to get fresh with me, you just have to ask. I‟d be happy to oblige, Keeper.” Jack snorted, then added, “What are you talking about, Keallan?” “Feeling me up, that‟s what. Fancy horse-men do you?” “I can see you‟re back to your old self. Didn‟t take you long, did it?” Jack let out a guffaw that startled even himself. He wasn‟t fearful of Keallan anymore, and that surprised him more than anything. Knowing the beast couldn‟t get up in his current condition probably helped, but he was glad he could now speak his mind. “Well, what would you call it if someone was rubbing their hands all over you like that?” “Was that enough water?” Jack replied, deciding to change the tact of the conversation—the best thing to do when it came to handling Keallan‟s acid tongue he found. “For now. I will need more later.” Keallan coughed. “When the horn is excised from my flesh, then I have had enough.” “Right-o.” “Let me tell you something, Keeper, for you have caught me in a charitable mood.” “I‟d say,” Jack blurted, “considering I just saved your life.” “Proving you‟re not pathetic won‟t adjust my attitude toward you, you fucker. Just let me be clear on that.” Keallan gasped and Jack‟s heart went into his mouth. A long moment elapsed before a calm came over him once more, and he was able to speak. “I wouldn‟t expect anything less from you, mate.” “Good, we have an understanding. I like that, saves time.”

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Mark Alders Jack shuffled closer to Keallan. “Go on, tell me what you must, exorcise it from your soul.” “You fucking piss me off with your smugness.” Each and every word forced from the beast‟s mouth sounded strained, like they were kidney stones being passed. “I so want to kill you, feel the life of you ebb away while I strangle you with my bare hands. Then, once finished, trample your sorry carcass into the dirt, fertilizer for the grass the sheep of your farm will graze upon. Then, as a final insult to you, and only what you deserve in my mind, I would butcher and eat alive the lamb that ate the grass.” “So you‟re lonely then?” There was a long moment of silence, the only sound that of the birds singing their dawn chorus outside. Light crept in and illuminated the cave enough so Jack could make out the beast‟s grotesque outline. Keallan‟s hands were cupped over his face, like he was trying to hide himself from Jack. The beast made a most peculiar noise. At first Jack didn‟t recognise it. Keallan was crying. Jack reached out and touched him on the shoulder. The clammy sweat he had the night before was gone, his skin warm to the touch. “Tell me everything.” The beast uncovered his face and Jack saw clean streaks of tears to his chin. He looked down. The horn was indeed lodged in Keallan‟s equine chest, the wound weeping but not festered. It seemed the Waters of Truth had done some good. “I have a confession. And you, Keeper, are just as good as any to tell. Well, actually, you are the only person worthy to tell.” “Go on.” Keallan paused, swallowed and then coughed. The words came out with that cough. “Aidenock and Beaudan mixed their cum together within an ordinary mare to create me, the bastards. That part you know. What you don‟t know is that they were not satisfied with one abomination to their names. They had another. That‟s right, two beasts walked this Earth years ago. Something no one could fathom, but something I was elated about. I had a sister. Someone to talk to, someone that understood me, because she was just like me. We were hated by everyone and we so wanted—no, needed the little attention we received. I …” Keallan trailed off. He paused, coughed, then caught his breath, like what he was saying not only burned his flesh, but purged his soul. “One night, when we were playing, she fell into a quarry from a great height. We would play dare, see who could get as close to the edge…and…you can guess the rest.” Keallan waved his hand, dismissing the

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Unicorn’s Peril explanation. The tears flowed freely from his eyes and his voice broke, sorrowful yet relieved, like he had been released from a long prison sentence and he now smelt the sweet air of freedom. “I…I…I couldn‟t help. I couldn‟t save her. She yelped for my help. Oh, how she yelped. She was in so much agony. She just pleaded and pleaded with me to get her out of the pit she had fallen into. But I couldn‟t. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn‟t. I ran for help. I ran so damn fucking fast. But my centaur father, the great Beaudan, didn‟t believe me when he saw her broken body on the floor of the pit. He disowned me, leading the charge against me, betraying his own flesh. She had…she had passed away while I was gone. Alone, for fuck sake. She died alone. Without me. Without her brother.” Keallan stopped. Jack kept his hand upon Keallan‟s shoulder. He did not utter a word, letting the beast purge his demons in his own time. “And…and I was accused of her murder, without trial. They were convinced I had done it. They said I was jealous, that I wanted to be rid of her so their attention would be focused on me. How fucking dare they! They said I pushed her, murdered her in cold blood. They said I killed her. I couldn‟t fucking kill her. She was my sister. Then, in my madness, or my guilt, or my need for love or, or all three, I went insane with sorrow. Anyone or anything was a target of my rage and I killed without remorse. I am a beast, Keeper. I am the abomination they speak of…and it hurts me every time I hear them speak that name.” “What was her name?” Jack whispered at a natural pause in Keallan‟s discourse. “Serena,” Keallan said, his voice taking on a fondness Jack had never heard before. It was strange yet pleasant, so unlike his normal staccato register. “Her name was Serena.” “That‟s a beautiful name, Keallan. She sounded wonderful.” “She was. She was my angel, my only light in the hell that is my life.” “You don‟t know where your centaur father went? I mean, you know where your unicorn father is, he‟s in my stable seducing Logan as you have said.” “I don‟t know where Beaudan is,” Keallan said. “I will go get some more water. When you are fit to walk I will help you find him.” “What the fuck for? I will kill him the second I lay my eyes upon his sorry hide. The bastard!” Keallan spat, like the words he uttered were not fit to be spoken, flung from his mouth like rotten food consumed by mistake. “So he can learn the truth,” Jack replied.

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Mark Alders “What good will that do? He does not believe the abomination, son or no son.” “He will believe the Keeper.” Keallan forced himself to move. The expression upon his face reflected the pain he felt as he did so. “So what‟s your story then, Keeper?” “A long one, like yours.” “I have time. The horn won‟t come out overnight.” **** Blake bumped into Logan coming out of the stable. His brother‟s body was covered in both his own and Aidenock‟s fluids. Blake‟s stomach turned again, but he forced himself not to notice. To arouse any kind of suspicion would foil his plan before it had even begun. “Aidenock wants you, Blake,” Logan chirped as he passed. “It‟s your turn to feel his power.” “Sure, no problem,” Blake replied, finding it hard not to wince, to show his disgust. The look of his brother, glistening wet, his hairs all slicked back by Aidenock‟s tongue, repelled him. How had this come to being? Blake cursed under his breath. He cursed not only Aidenock, but himself. He was at this moment unable to save Logan from him. Again he felt sick. “I‟m hitting the shower, Blake. Then I‟ll start with the chores. Aidenock will sleep for most of the day.” “No worries.” Blake, seeing Logan go into the house, entered the stable. He was keen to get away, but didn‟t look forward to being infused with his magic again. He was unsure if he could resist him again. But he had to show he was still under his spell and he forced himself onwards into the stable proper. Come here, Blake, Aidenock commanded. His words hit him before he could see him. “Yes, Aidenock.”

Are you feeling better? “Yes.”

Lay with me. I must make sure you are strong. “Wouldn‟t you rather rest? Once I have completed my duties you can do it then. I am yours for whenever you need me. Just call.” There was a pause. Blake stepped up to the stall door and peered in, forcing a smile upon his lips, baring his teeth to the unicorn. Aidenock was lying in the bedding hay,

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Unicorn’s Peril his head low. He looked tired and didn‟t bother to look up at him.

Perhaps you are right. Leave me. Return after lunch.

“Would you like another stall, one with fresh bedding hay?” He stirred, then added, the lilt soft in his mind, You are so thoughtful. After Blake had settled Aidenock in, making sure he slept soundly before leaving his side, he ran into the house, suddenly aware of his nakedness. He had to change into clothes before he ventured into town. Attracting attention to himself in his hour of need was not a welcome addition to his worries. Thankfully, Logan was still in the shower when he went to his room. Explaining anything to his brother would prove fruitless at this juncture in time. He had to be prepared. Separating a powerful magical being from his obedient familiar would be no easy task. The battle of wills could be long. At least he had a weapon to use and Josh Carter was the ammunition. Blake smiled, yet felt pangs of guilt creep into his being as he climbed into his shorts. He hated using another to meet an end, but really, unless something else presented itself, he had no option. Blake so wanted things to have been different. Throwing on a T-shirt, Blake bolted from the house. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him across the yellow field to the dam where Ferran and the centaurs waited. The early light beat down on his back and warmed him even at this hour. Sweat formed on his brow and he stunk of straw and horse and semen, but he didn‟t care. He had until lunch time and every second counted. His own comfort was secondary and unimportant if he were to achieve his goal without Aidenock noticing his absence. Crows wheeled above as Blake came to the dam. Ferran, as he said he would, was waiting by the pumping station. The centaur was gorging himself in the cool waters that flowed from the pipe. “Glad you made it, Keeper‟s son. I was worried there for a minute.” “Let‟s go, I don‟t have much time. He wants me back by midday.” Ferran rubbed his chin. “It will be close. But I will ride like the wind for you.” “I‟m glad,” Blake said with a smile. He climbed up upon the centaur‟s back. “You‟re going to use your cushion of magic, aren‟t you?” “Of course!” Ferran yelled. He turned once Blake was up on his equine back proper, the cushion formed immediately. The centaur lurched forward, his acceleration like a racehorse from a gate. He rose to a gallop seconds later. “Your bloodline must continue.” “Thanks, I‟d appreciate that,” Blake shouted back. Midges caught in the slipstream created by Ferran‟s human body found Blake‟s teeth as he spoke.

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Mark Alders Not wanting a bug breakfast, Blake spat them out, happy he had not swallowed any. “I hope this works.” “We will give it a damn good try.”

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Twenty

“I

t‟s funny,” Jack began, his tone serious, “you, Keallan, tell the truth to gain approval, to let others know you are genuine and I lie for the very same reasons.” “You do?” Keallan replied. The darkness that shrouded them had retreated. The cavalry of light that flooded in from the mouth of the cave illuminated them, giving them salvation from the night. Keallan‟s body glowed once more, marred only by the wound and horn in his equine chest. His magic was seeping back into him. “Yes. I lie. One I live with every day. I can‟t run from it.” “Your mistress?” Jack shifted his weight upon the freshly sprouted grass. Some blades had already turned brown. The Waters of Truth‟s magic must be waning, like the breath of it had expired. “Oh, it runs deeper than that, Keallan. My lies have been woven into not only my life, but the lives of those around me.” Keallan gasped for air. Spittle flew from his wet lips that stretched over his mal-formed teeth. His face twisted, like he was in the throes of a seizure. The beast‟s eyes were wide, pleading. Jack came close to him, concerned for Keallan‟s well being. “Are you all right, mate? Keallan?” “I need more of the water…my pain has returned. The heart Thor‟s horn pierced is trying to beat. Fuck, I can feel it. It‟s like a knife is being pressed against the organ as it comes to life. Fuck.” Keallan drained white. Jack didn‟t hesitate. He got to his feet and plucked the bark container from the ground, his soft bed of grass gone. The grass had dissolved, returning to the dry ground it had been created from. Only the red dirt remained. “No!” Keallan screamed, his voice reverberated around the cave, invading Jack‟s ears over and over until it subsided. Once the beast‟s voice had faded into nothingness, like the grass did

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Mark Alders before his eyes moments ago, Jack replied. “What‟s the matter?” He turned to face the beast. Dust rose up around him, only to blanket them as it settled, to stick to them with the humidity of the new day, like it were part of their skin. “Stay!” Keallan‟s hand was outstretched. Jack clasped his hand into the beasts, it was clammy and sticky and his skin rough like sandpaper. “Tell your story. I want to hear it.” Keallan pulled Jack down and he had no option but to sit next to the beast once more. “But you‟re in pain. I have to get some more of the water.” “And you haven‟t fucking eaten since yesterday afternoon. So spare me. Tell your story, please, Keeper.” “Of course.” Jack watched Keallan settle, letting him come to rest. Jack pondered for a moment to arrange his thoughts in his head so they were cohesive, intelligible and ones that would speak of the shame he had carried with him for so long. Jack‟s stomach fluttered. His throat seemed to close, like he could feel his heart beat within it, constricting him. “Where do I begin?” “At the beginning would be good,” Keallan whispered. “Right-o then, at the beginning it is.” Jack straightened himself up, sucking in a lungful of air. “The farm was a joint venture. My uncle and I pooled our resources to make it happen, but we struggled in the early days, unable to hire help, we did everything ourselves. The money, mostly from my father…his brother, didn‟t last long.” Jack paused, scratching his fringe where the brim of his hat would have sat. “I understand lineage, Keeper. Go on.” Jack opened his mouth and for a long time no sound passed between his lips. Then, finally, he said with a faint voice, like he squeezed them from his being, unable to be let go easily. “Logan and Blake are not my sons. They‟re…they‟re my aunties…my uncles.” Jack sucked in more air. “They had children late in life, unable to conceive easily. My uncle, Owen was his name—bless him, was the hardest working man I have ever known in my life. He would be—” Jack stopped again. “Go on, Jack,” Keallan said, his words smooth. Jack‟s eyes misted. His vision became bleary. The memories he recalled were painful to articulate. “Owen was killed in a tractor accident. Driving back from the back of the field, it stalled. He tried to fix it…and underneath it, it rolled and I couldn‟t save—” “What about your aunty?” Jack wiped his eyes with his red sand stained sleeve. “Betty, or Bet as I

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Unicorn’s Peril called her, was diagnosed with cancer about a year after the accident. When Blake was about three and Logan two I think…yes two. Her dying wish was for me to look after them like they were my own. That is what I did.” After a long silence, Keallan added, “You are truly noble, Keeper. You have sacrificed everything, including your real son, to uphold the wish of another.” “You‟re correct, mate,” Jack retorted, sighing deep. “Josh is my only biological son and Valerie the only woman I have ever loved.” There was a moment of silence. “So you lied because it was easier to maintain the illusion that way, to not hurt others but yourself, that is?” “Yes,” Jack said, his voice a breath from his mouth. “I loved Aunt Bet with all my heart. She was a saint and it was because of her, because of the accident and all that had happened in the years of drought, toil and hard times, that I couldn‟t soil her memory. The boys, Blake and Logan, grew up thinking their mother had died and that was it. I should have told them. I should have...” Jack words were reduced to nothing but a mumble. “Until you met Valerie.” “Until I met Valerie,” Jack repeated, fighting back the tears, sighing to cover his emotion, to distract himself from his own thoughts. Keallan chortled, a blood curdling laugh burst from the beast, one that annoyed Jack. “What‟s so funny, Keallan?” The beast settled, his laboured laugh reducing to a snicker. “I just hope for your sake my bastard of a father in your stable doesn‟t know this.” “How could he?” Jack asked, glaring into Keallan‟s eyes, pleading him to answer. “Blake does visit Valerie and her son, your son, regularly. I have followed him on many occasions. It amuses me to spy, call it curiosity, call it perversion, whatever. I get off on it. But I do it all the same.” “Blake knows?” Jack questioned, his stomach churned and his spirit sunk to the pit of his soul. “Yes, but as far as he is concerned, Josh is his half-brother—” “But…I still don‟t understand. How would Aidenock know? He wouldn‟t tell him. Blake hasn‟t told me for a start.” “Family have a shared smell, an odour that binds. Kind of like blood so to speak, to help you understand in the limited way you can. Ever gone into someone‟s house? The smell is different in each one. It‟s like that, but deeper. My fucking father would know in an instant if Blake has been to your boy Josh. He would also know from that, that they are not directly related. If he

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Mark Alders has seduced Blake like he has Logan that is. The bastard! The fucking whoring bastard!” Jack hung onto his every word, resting his elbows on his knees and settling his hands onto his chin. “He would also know, come to think of it, that you are not their father, for the closer the kin the stronger the scent. I know it‟s hard for you to understand, not possessing the olfactory strength we do. But my unicorn father does. He has that strength. You are only the boys‟ cousin after all. He would know that, use that against them for his own benefit, being the conniving, power hungry fucker that he is.” “I feel…I feel so ashamed about all this. I should have told them sooner, but too much water has passed under the bridge. Too much has happened, mate. I couldn‟t…I was stupid. I see that now, but I just couldn‟t.” “Then why didn‟t you marry Valerie?” Keallan added, his black brows, thick as the glen that surrounded the cave, rose. Jack let out a gasp, his voice soft again. “I haven‟t told her. I haven‟t told anyone, not a soul. Other than you.” “It seems we have made great leeway, Keeper. Don‟t you feel better now?” “I will once I sort this mess out. Things have now happened and I fear I won‟t be able to mend the wound once the truth is revealed.” Keallan snorted. “You have helped me. I‟ll help you. That‟s what friends do for one another.” “Friends?” “Fuck you! You‟re my friend? So like it or lump it.” Jack‟s face lit up and a smile formed. “Gotcha, Keallan. I think of you as more than a friend, rather a good mate. I forgive you for hurting me. The moment I placed my hand into the waters of the spring it healed, just like you said it would. And even though your motives were your own, I think you care. Deep down, you care.” “Your wound was only slight, an easy fix for the Waters of Truth. Try having a horn lodged into your flesh. Then you can complain. But I thank you for…for being honest with me. Thank you for telling me of the burden you have carried all your life.” Again silence for a long time. “You would be welcome in my home, Keallan.” “And I would consider you someone I would want by my side in battle which I feel will not be too far away. Thor will not slip into the night for long. The fucker will be planning something. I just hope your…sons are not in danger. And yes, Keeper, they are your sons, you have provided for them, fed them, clothed them, and made them the men they are today. To me, that is

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Unicorn’s Peril more than what a lot of biological parents do for their own kin. Mine included. I wish I had come to you sooner…” Keallan groaned. His words became garbled again as blood filled his throat. The beast spat out the fluid, a sticky, deep scarlet mess upon the ground in front of him. “You were scared?” “I live in constant fear, Keeper. Thor is the biggest worry upon my shoulders to bear. Then my unicorn father…then my centaur father, should he return...then everyone else. I was lucky last night. Thor made a mistake. I may not be so lucky next time.” Jack stood. “I will get some more water. The sooner you are well the better. I—we, have a lot to sort out.” “We do.” **** From his vantage point, a crest that overlooked the farm, Thor‟s eyes, only recently returned to the silver he adorned before the beast defeated him, looked upon the centaur Ferran. He noticed the young man he carried upon his back. With the centaur were others, flanking him as he travelled over the sallow fields below. He couldn‟t ascertain at this distance who the man was, but he suspected he was one of the Keeper‟s sons.

If it is the oldest son you have in your clutches, Ferran, more trouble for you. He is mine. And nothing will stop me from achieving my purpose.

Thor sprung to life, going from a dead still stance, like a statue overlooking the lands, to a gallop in the matter of a heartbeat. He charged down the hill, Spinifex, grass and dust his trail as he galloped. His purpose focused on one thing, getting to the centaur that carried his prize. Coming to the road that left the farm, a red track that cut the earth like a scar, Thor galloped onwards. His strength drew back into him as his wound healed, ready to form his spire once more. He could command the wind again, even though the most he managed was a slight breeze. But that didn‟t matter. That breath of air cooled him, just enough to keep him moving at a blinding speed and to ignore the heat of the morning. He could smell Ferran now and Thor knew it was the Keepers eldest son upon the centaur‟s back. From that he also knew they would return to the farm, not leaving its sanctuary for too long. It was then that Thor slowed his gait, falling to a trot as easily as he had burst into the gallop.

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Mark Alders Thor slowed, coming to a halt at the edge of the Keeper‟s land. Only a wire gate between him and the winding road that lead to the human town beyond. He would wait until they returned. Then and only then would he act out his plan. The sight of a wounded horse would be too much for the eldest keeper‟s son to ignore. He knew that and the thought pleased him. Aidenock had used the same trick after he had been wounded by the members of the Elder council. But Thor wasn‟t interested in gaining familiars. He had a grander plan to implement. When he came to rest, Thor caught another scent in the air. At first he couldn‟t fathom it, for it was complex, many odours mixed in. He smelt the centaurs, for they had only passed seconds earlier. He smelt his beloved Aidenock, for he was now living amongst the humans. And he smelt the Keeper‟s son. The first time the man‟s odour had caught his nostrils. But that‟s what confused him. Thor breathed in deep, making doubly sure what he was receiving, what the breeze delivered, was true. He couldn‟t believe his senses. Again he sucked in great volumes of the warm morning air, to make sure, like a dingo would once it had caught scent of its prey. What he suspected was true. The eldest son‟s smell was different to that of the Keeper‟s. The Keeper‟s scent he had only caught last night, so it was still fresh in his memory, clinging to his nostrils like it had been inhaled moments ago. The man was unlike it, linked yes, but not as direct descendants would be. The young man was not the Keeper‟s son. Thor pondered for a moment and he circled as he thought, troubled by this revelation. What does this mean? My plan cannot be ruined. It cannot fail. Thor dismissed his thoughts, unsure as to their meaning. He would wait all day, even in the stifling heat, for the centaurs to bring back the so-called Keeper‟s son if he had to. He had to succeed.

Then, dear boy, I will exact my revenge upon the beast. You will serve me well. Keeper‟s son or not, it does not matter. The Keeper will not be able to resist coming to your rescue. I will see to it.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Twenty-One

F

erran slowed to a canter. The road that led out of the farm met with another. This road was larger and bituminised and lead straight into the human habitation the Keeper‟s son wished to visit. Many houses, visible amongst the bushland the town was nestled within, were scattered haphazardly ahead. Their iron roofs reflected the sunlight, creating a bizarre pattern of man-made and natural structures in the distance. “We will go no farther, Keeper‟s son. You are to walk the rest of your journey. We will wait here until you return, no matter how long you are gone,” he said, panting deep, his back wet with sweat from the gallop. “That won‟t be too long hopefully,” Blake said. He climbed off Ferran. The cushion of magic dissipated as soon as his leg came over the centaur‟s hind quarters to dismount. “Good luck!” Ferran shouted. He watched the Keeper‟s son leave. Blake waved at him before he ran in the awkward way only humans could, bipedal and slow. Savannah stepped up to Ferran and she smoothed her human body close, locking her arm around his. “Can you smell it?” “The unicorn bastard we call our brother-in-law?” Ferran snorted. “I have been trying not to. His stench repels me, makes me sick until I need to pass bile from my mouth.” “No, my dear husband,” Savannah whispered, “something more profound than that.” Ferran looked at his wife, her hair wisped in a breeze so slight, like it were from the breath of the hill in the distance. “I know what you speak of. And it is not our place to mention such things. The Keeper‟s business is his own.” “I know. But the poor young man. He should know. Such things are important.” “I agree. But it is not our place to meddle in the affairs of others,

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Mark Alders especially the Keeper‟s. Perhaps when the time is right, when things have turned that cannot be returned. Then it may come to pass. The truths of the past revealed.” Savannah positioned herself so she could slide her hands around his back. She embraced him, holding him tight. “He should know. That‟s all I am saying.” “We shall see.” ****

Logan, I need you. Come to me, my sweet. Logan dropped the grappling hooks he was using to drag the hay bales off the back of the truck, the same bales Blake had brought in from town yesterday and the ones he was storing in the supply shed until needed. “Coming, Aidenock.” After he had hopped off the back of the truck, he pulled off his shorts, leaving them on in the dirt by the back wheels. He ran to the stable as fast as he could, excitement welled up inside. His beloved Aidenock wanted him, needed him, for he had called. “I‟m here, Aidenock,” he said as soon as he entered the stable. The shade from the building cooled him. The heat outside was already fierce and he was thankful for the break, even though it was still early. You have been working hard, Aidenock said, his voice smooth and welcoming in his mind. His inflections were even more beautiful than he was and it caressed his thoughts, pampered his soul, like he didn‟t deserve him. “Thank you,” Logan said with a gasp, for he realised how much he had missed him in the hour he had been absent from his side. His body yearned for his tender care and his thoughts wandered to those of want, to share their erotic visions together. He needed Aidenock again and he was ready. Have you seen your dear brother lately? he said, his cadence harsh all of a sudden, jarring him back from his thoughts. “No,” Logan replied. “He did head for the pumping station. I know there‟s been trouble there. Dad was trying to fix it yesterday. Perhaps Blake is helping him.” Yes, that could be it, Aidenock said. His voice returned to that which pleasured Logan‟s mind. Your brother is rife with the smell of centaurs, you

know. It clings to him like the salty sweat on your beautiful body. Logan recoiled. “Centaurs?”

They are beasts, fierce creatures and enemies to the unicorns. Savages, in

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Unicorn’s Peril fact. They live to the south of the road that divides the farm, Aidenock explained. We, us unicorns, I mean, live to the north. That is the way it has always been. “Blake hasn‟t been hurt, has he?”

I don‟t know. He is not yet fully my familiar. “I must go find him. If he is in danger, then I must help him.” Logan turned to leave. You cannot leave me, Aidenock commanded, his voice harsh. I am still

vulnerable from the one that hunts me.

“What do I do then?” Panic drew across Logan‟s face and his fingers and toes tingled with fear for both Aidenock‟s safety and his brother‟s.

Never fear, he can look after himself. If he does not come to us by the hour of your lunch, then you have permission to search near the homestead for him. But you are not to wander too far away from me. “Thank you, Aidenock,” Logan said with a sigh of relief and a bow.

Now, you need to be rewarded for your loyalty. I have a very special gift to give you, something you have not had before. Come, lay here, while I infuse you with my magic. I will tell you all about it. “Tell me all about what?”

Remember I said your father was impure? Remember when I said you will know what I know when I do? “Yes,” Logan replied. He nestled himself into the bedding hay next to the unicorn. He smiled and his loins stirred as he thought about his tongue dancing across his skin. Well, the present I will give you is simple but profound, Logan my sweet, he said. His tongue sparked magic into his skull when he began their ritual. It

is the truth about him and you are now ready to hear it. Nothing more, nothing less. Then you will know. Able to judge for yourself, understanding everything I do.

Logan shuddered. Raptures of pleasure coursed over him. Unable to speak, his stomach rose and fell rapidly, his mouth agape as he tried to catch his breath while the unicorn worked, while he filled his body with his power. “Tell…me, Aidenock. I…want to…know.” **** Blake pounded his fist upon the Carter‟s screen door. Sweat dripped off his nose, but had also run down his back to stain his clothes where his skin touched the cloth of his T-shirt. He had no option but to run in the heat of the

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Mark Alders morning. Aidenock would be calling him soon and he had no time to lose. Logan‟s freedom depended on it. With his breaths short and deep and his chest heaving, Blake came to the front door. It creaked open. “Blake!” Valerie said, the surprise in her voice obvious. “What are you doing here?” “I-I,” Blake stuttered, and for the first time he realised he had no reason to be at her door—well, none that would make sense to her anyway. “My truck broke down…I need…I would like Josh to give me a hand.” Blake hated thinking on his feet, but what he said was the most logical thing he could think of. “I will drive you both.” “No. No. That‟s not necessary. We can walk there. It‟s not far. And well, it‟ll give us a chance to…you know, chat and stuff.” Valerie had opened the door fully. She motioned for Blake to enter her house. “Well, you can have a shower and something to drink at the very least then. You look and smell like you have just run a marathon through the desert.” “Um,” Blake searched for words, but found it difficult to justify a lie with another lie, unable to tell her of his urgency, “sure.” He resigned to the fact he had nothing else to offer and would be trapped by a web of lies if he weren‟t careful. “Good. While you do that I‟ll go get Josh. He‟s out in the back shed fixing the lawnmower. Darn thing won‟t start and I have lawn ankle deep in the yard.” Blake offered her a smile when he entered the house. **** Blake signalled for Josh to stop. He did so. The road forked where the distant heat-haze shimmered. A dirt track left the main one. “That‟s the road up to my house, Joshy,” Blake said. He gestured to reveal to the boy the expanse before them was all his dad‟s land. “Cool. I‟ve never seen your farm, Blake. What‟s it like?” Josh asked. Excitement welled in his juvenile voice, wavering but not quite breaking. “I will show you. But first you mustn‟t be frightened by what you see. I know you don‟t understand, but there are some weird things on my farm.” “I‟ll be all ri—” Josh‟s voice was cut short and Blake knew the reason without even looking.

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Unicorn’s Peril Ferran and Savannah had emerged from the bushes before them. Their un-shoed hooves clomped upon the ground and puffs of dust shot up as they revealed themselves in all their beastly glory. Half human, half horse creatures stood tall and proud before the humans. “Josh, this is Ferran and that is Savannah,” Blake said. He smiled at his half-brother in an attempt to ease his fear. “They are centaurs and they live amongst us on the farm.” Ferran stepped up to Josh, bending down so that his nose touched the boy‟s head. The centaur breathed in deep. Josh‟s hair stuck to his nostrils. “That is the smell I would expect,” Ferran boomed. Josh drained white. “What‟s the matter, Ferran?” Blake said, coming close to the centaur. Savannah, too, closed in. She also smelt the boy by running her nose across his cheek. “There is something you need to know, both of you,” she whispered between great inhalations of the boy‟s scent. “No, Savannah. Not yet. I must be sure,” Ferran snapped, rearing up, exposing his equine chest to the boy that stood like a frightened rabbit before the massive beasts. Josh‟s face was etched with fear as Ferran‟s front hooves danced only millimetres from his body. The mighty centaur‟s shadow blanketed Josh. “What‟s going on? Don‟t hurt him, please. He‟s Josh, my half-brother!” Blake screamed, placing himself between Ferran and Josh, arms splayed out to defend him. “Ferran, please stop! What‟s got into you?” Ferran came down with a thud, the ground rumbling in complaint as he did so. “I was not going to hurt him. I am Ferran, not some heartless unicorn. I have to make sure the scent from the boy confirms my suspicions and fear brings it out the best.” Ferran drew in another deep breath, still trying to smell the boy. Blake remained as Josh‟s human shield. “What are you talking about?” Blake said. He turned to see that Josh was indeed frightened. The boy‟s eyes were closed tight and he had released the contents of his bladder into his shorts, a dark, wet stain at his groin. “We weren‟t going to tell you, Blake. But now that we have seen the boy you call Josh, we feel we have no choice,” Savannah said. “We don‟t mean you any disrespect, not in any way.” She touched Josh on his shoulder, reaching over Blake with ease. The boy opened his eyes, shaking like a leaf in the wind from fear. The two centaurs stepped back, giving the boy room, bowing as they did so. “I apologise for scaring you, young Keeper‟s son. We meant you no

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Mark Alders harm,” Ferran said, stern, but with a softer tone of voice than before. Blake stepped aside. “Tell me what this is all about. Otherwise I‟ll go on without your help.” Ferran rose from his bow. “I had to confirm he was the Keeper‟s son. I have done just that. Nothing more.” “Of course he is. I told you that,” Blake said, impatience evident in his tone, hands on his hips. “Who‟s the Keeper?” Josh said with a squeak. All eyes fell upon the boy and Josh squirmed under the weight of their stares, only able to play with his hands in front of himself. “The Keeper is our dad, Josh,” Blake replied. “That‟s not quite true,” Savannah interjected. “What?” Blake retorted. He looked up at the centaur, his eyes demanding. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “The boy is his son, that is now fact,” Ferran added. “You, Blake, however, are not.‟ “Don‟t be ridiculous. Of course he‟s my dad,” Blake snapped. “Prove it!” Ferran said. Now it was Blake‟s turn to drain white. His gaze darted between the two centaurs, and he pleaded with them, like he was searching for the joke they were obviously playing. “What do you mean?” Savannah came close to Blake. “You are not the Keeper‟s son, Blake. This boy Josh is. He is rife with his scent. You are not. Believe us.” Blake whispered with a weak voice, “Who am I, then?”

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Twenty-Two

B

lake stood silent for a long time next to the boy he thought he knew. No words were spoken amongst them. All seemed to understand Blake‟s disbelief. The birds were silent, even those in the distance. Even more striking, the normally noisy crows didn‟t caw, their harsh song absent across the fields of the Keeper‟s lands. Then, with a whisper as gentle as the wind that carried the dust around them, Blake finally said, “Is Logan my brother?” Ferran‟s nostrils flared and the centaur breathed in the air. “I can smell him upon you. You are brothers, in direct lineage. Of that you can be certain.” “Why didn‟t my dad tell us?” Blake stopped, his throat tightened. He played with his shirt front, deep in thought. Ferran‟s exhale ruffled his fringe. “I mean…oh, I don‟t know what I mean. I‟m, I‟m lost for words, Ferran.” “You can ask him yourself when we have sorted out the unicorn bastard,” Ferran said. “But remember, whether he sired you or not, he provided for you, kept you and made sure you were safe.” “You‟re right,” Blake said. He looked up to the lord of the centaurs. A spark ignited his thoughts, but not from doubt or hopelessness, but from the realization that it didn‟t matter who the Keeper was. As far as Blake was concerned, he was his dad. “There are other pressing matters to attend to. Saving my brother being the first.” “That‟s the spirit. Climb upon our backs, gentlemen. We ride to the homestead, God speed.” Ferran sidled his bulk around so that his equine body was close to Blake. Savannah did the same, coming close to Josh. The centaurs‟ tails flicked and the flies that had settled on their equine backs dispersed. “Um…I-I kind of need to change,” Josh said feebly. “I mean I…peed…” Josh trailed off. His cheeks were flushed and his head hung low, almost to his chest, from his embarrassment. Ferran twisted his human torso. The skin around his withers wrinkled. He

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Mark Alders looked down at the Keeper‟s son. “So you did. I understand your concern, but there is no time to waste. Either let it dry naturally or remove your clothes. The choice is yours.” “But, but won‟t—I mean, that‟ll stink if I keep my shorts on, won‟t it? And I don‟t think I‟ll take…my clothes…off, thank you very much.” Ferran burst into laughter and both Blake and Josh were stunned by the outburst. Josh glared at Blake, the boy‟s eyes pleading. “You‟ll stink no worse than you already do, Keeper‟s son. Make up your mind quick.” Blake patted Josh on the back. “I have some spare clothes that‟ll fit you when we get to the house. Just hold on „till then, okay?” Josh didn‟t answer, but a feeble smile quivered across his lips. “Come now, let‟s go!” Ferran yelled. “We must move.” Josh hesitated. “What‟s the matter?” Blake added, seeing the boy‟s concern. “I‟ve never ridden a…centaur before, or even a horse for that matter. Don‟t you need a saddle?” “Just watch.” Blake climbed up onto Ferran and he knew the sight of it wasn‟t pretty. His limbs grappled for a hold like a rock climber‟s would along a sheer rock face, but after a moment he got upon the centaur‟s back. The magical cushion formed immediately, a blue sparkling magical saddle underneath him. Blake sat tall upon a seat that was better than any he had travelled on, the truck‟s modern bucket seats included. Josh approached Savannah. She buckled her hind legs, making it easier for the boy to get upon her. He eventually scrambled up. Dust from Savannah‟s equine back covered him and the cushion formed when he came to a seated position. “Wow,” Josh said, pleased with himself he‟d managed to climb up onto the centaur without too much bother. He wiped his brow with his arm, dirt streaked across his forehead. “This is cool.” “Hold on!” Ferran screamed, scaring the birds from the bushes in a cacophony of twittering, before either of them could answer, even in protest. The centaurs‟ hooves thumped the ground in a fast four beat rhythm that was indicative of a gallop, hypnotic and graceful across the golden field. Dust and dirt and clumps of dead grass sprayed up behind them as they traversed the land as fast as they could go. Blake, in awe at the speed the beasts garnered in such a short space of time, his eyes bleary from the hot easterly wind that rushed over his face, could do nothing but hang on like Ferran instructed. He hoped the magical cushion would stop him from breaking bones if he should fall. Then, finding

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Unicorn’s Peril the rhythm of the ride, he noticed his half-brother, or whatever the boy was in relation to him, looking like he too was hanging on for dear life, a grimace upon the boy‟s face. But, for all intents and purposes, he seemed to be enjoying the experience. In the distance Blake caught something in his watery, wind-swept vision. At first he couldn‟t make it out, but it was something on the field, something injured. A horse he thought. As they thundered closer, the stricken animal was indeed the horse he had spied earlier. The animal lay on the ground like it was wounded, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. “Ferran, we must stop,” Blake screamed above the wind, a bug slammed into his teeth, nowhere to go but in his mouth. After he had swallowed, his distaste evident, he added, “There‟s an injured horse ahead.” “We stop for nothing, Blake.” “Please, just for a moment. It won‟t take long.” Ferran slowed his rhythm. The centaurs came down to a trot easily, timing it so he was at a stop only metres away from the wounded animal. Savannah also slowed at the same rate as her husband and they stood together, the horse splayed out before them. “It‟s been shot!” Blake shouted. “There‟s a bullet wound on its head. Who would do such a thing?” Ferran reared and Blake had no option but to grapple his arms haphazardly around the centaur‟s waist in an effort to keep from falling off the back of the beast. “That‟s no bullet wound! It‟s a fallen unicorn. It‟s Thor! I can smell him and it sickens me to both my stomachs.” “Who‟s—” Blake tried to gain an understanding from Ferran‟s statement when the beast that lay on the field burst to life. It was up on his hooves within the blink of an eye. Well, well, Keeper‟s son, Thor spat. You have fallen in with the wrong

crowd I see. Oran, now is the time. Come to me.

As those words were uttered into their minds, a unicorn, coat pure white, bronze horn, hooves and mane, came from the bush that bordered the field. Within seconds the unicorn was with the one that had no horn, the one Ferran referred to as Thor. Thor looked at Blake with his mottled silver and brown eyes. The animal breathed in deep the air, his nostrils flared. Just as I thought, you are not the Keeper‟s son, Thor said, his words harsh, the tone cynical. The boy that is rife

with the stench of fear upon him is. Typical. The pathetic Keeper has a pathetic son. Just look at him! He‟s stained with himself and drained white

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Mark Alders with terror. He disgusts me. “Leave him alone, Thor. He is not your quarrel,” Ferran said, the centaur‟s voice sterner than Blake had ever heard it.

What is my quarrel, Ferran?

“Nothing here. Now, leave us be. We have duties to attend to, something you would not understand.” Thor stepped so close Blake could see inside the wound upon his poll. Dried, dark blood had caked inside it, sealing it from the elements. Blake couldn‟t help but wonder how the unicorn‟s horn had been taken away from him.

That‟s where you are wrong. This man, the one that is not the Keeper‟s son, he has the sweet scent of my beloved upon him. He has been with him, loved him. There is no doubt about it. Can‟t you smell his effect upon this human? His ejaculate is mixed in with his scent, staining it. I demand he comes with me to serve his punishment. That is my quarrel, lord of the weak. Ferran scowled. “It‟s not his fault the unicorn bastard lusts for flesh, wants others not of his own kind. Given the chance, he‟d have probably made the human mount him, just as he did my brother,” Ferran said, the sneer on his voice more than evident. Spittle flew from his taught lips. “And you know the result of that, Thor.”

Indeed I do. Who do you think took my spire from me? The beast is upon us, walking the land of the farm as if his own, like he owns it and not the Keeper. Thor paused, came even closer so that Blake could see the glint in his eye. He has even made the Keeper his familiar.

“You lie!” Ferran boomed. “Don‟t trust him, my husband,” Savannah said. She moved alongside Ferran, to be with him, to touch him with her hand. To calm him.

Take in my scent and you will know I have the Keeper‟s odour upon me. It stinks like the weedy boy on your wife‟s back. You know I speak the truth. Ferran did as Thor instructed, the intake of air brief. “You speak the truth. But it doesn‟t change the fact you‟d use that truth for your own twisted purpose.” Blake couldn‟t contain himself any longer. “What‟s happened to dad?”

He‟s not your father, boy. He‟s your Keeper, just as he is ours. And he‟s been kidnapped, forced to be the beast‟s concubine, just as your dear brother is Aidenock‟s. Something I am here to correct, whether you wish it or not. Blake‟s skin drained a deathly white, the pallor of a corpse. Visions crowded his mind and he felt queasy. The sweeping landscape spun before him. He saw terrible images, images of his dad acting like Logan. He saw his

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Unicorn’s Peril dad fawn over a beast, doing as the beast wished. His stomach turned. “Where is the beast?” Ferran said, words that snapped Blake from his reverie, as if slapped on the back. Last I saw, near the spring that holds the Waters of Truth, Thor replied as he took a few steps backwards. “I will ride with you there, Thor. Savannah and the humans will go to the homestead of the Keeper and continue the course of action we have plotted.” There was a pause. All four beasts stood silent, only the hate between the centaurs and the unicorns gaining momentum. That won‟t be good enough, Ferran, Thor said. The disgust in his voice increased with each word. You, as always, think without consequence of the

actions you perform. Why would the Keeper care about you? No, I need the Keeper‟s son to play out my plan. Only then will I be satisfied. “Josh won‟t go with you. I will.” Blake began to climb off Ferran‟s back. The magical cushion dissipated with a crack, disturbing the air around him.

You are not the son I was talking about. I want the young one, the one that is silent, the one that is weak. And if you don‟t give him to me, I will take him by force if necessary.

“No one is going anywhere,” Ferran yelled. He leaned close to the fallen unicorn. His hair, long and dark, whipped against the unicorn‟s ears. “If you don‟t want me to come with you, we will ride on to claim the one called Logan. Then, and only then, will we rescue the Keeper. We will do this with or without your help, Thor.” I don‟t think so, Thor‟s voice snarled. Oran! Now! Everything that happened next was a blur and lightning quick. Blake‟s sight was obscured, for his head was pressed against Ferran‟s back as he tried to dismount. The voice of the fallen unicorn screaming in his mind was the only sign an attack had begun. Blake only managed to rest his feet upon the ground when he was knocked over by Thor. He caught sight of the unicorn charging at Ferran to brush along the centaur‟s flank, separating Blake from his friend. Blake found the ground with a dull thud. Pain shot up from his ankle as a result. He lifted his head in a desperate effort to see what had happened. Blake caught, in his pain induced trance, the unicorn called Oran charge for Savannah. The mighty spire upon Oran‟s head, bronze and gleaming in the sunlight, was positioned low. The unicorn‟s aim was her equine chest. The unicorn fell upon her, his target true. Red blood exploded from where the horn had penetrated once the

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Mark Alders unicorn retracted it from her flesh. She screamed in agony and reared up. The magical cushion that held Josh in place vanished and the boy was thrown off her back with a thump that sickened Blake. Josh‟s body now lay unconscious upon the dead grass while Savannah continued the melee. She turned toward her attacker in a desperate attempt to protect the boy. Blake saw that the wound she suffered was near the point of her shoulder, making her move awkward, like she was inebriated. Ferran too screamed, a sound that attracted Blake‟s attention. The centaur pushed Thor from him, knocking the fallen unicorn off balance as he passed for a second attempt, a distraction while Oran attacked proper. Savannah was their real target, for Thor couldn‟t attack with any force. He had no weapon.

You are weak, Ferran. No match for my unicorn. Now be gone from my sight, or your dear wife and those under your care will suffer the consequences.

Ferran ignored Thor and went to his wife. The blood that flowed from her, dark and sticky, stained the magnificent equine muscles of her chest. “You will pay for this, Thor. You will pay.”

Oran! Charge!

Thor‟s servant obeyed. He burst into action, a flash of white across the field, like lightning. His horn was low once more, ready to strike as he turned and galloped toward the centaurs. Ferran turned, too. And Blake, unable to believe his eyes, saw the centaur charge for the unicorn. Seconds later, they collided. Two masses of flesh and muscle slammed together, the horn of the unicorn ineffective as Ferran expertly dodged, twisted and then tackled the beast side on. The centaur‟s full weight came down upon the slender unicorn and Ferran‟s bulk toppled Oran over. The unicorn, unable to bear the mountain of muscle forced onto him, fell. The bones in the unicorn‟s forecannon snapped with an ear piercing rupture and his fetlock ripped away under the pressure of Ferran‟s hoof. Oran didn‟t get up. The unicorn‟s mangled leg was unable to support his weight and he whinnied in agony as he writhed on the ground. “Perhaps now, unicorn filth, you have learned not to tackle me,” Ferran spat as he bought his hoof down upon the unicorn‟s head, ending Oran‟s misery in one fluid motion. The crunch of bone as Ferran‟s hoof passed through to the soft tissue was shocking to Blake‟s ears. Oran twitched, but was no more. Only his nerves kept him moving, for life no longer beat through his body. Blake was unable to tear his eyes away from what Ferran had done, his

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Unicorn’s Peril mouth agape. A moment passed. Only then did he notice that the fallen unicorn named Thor and his Josh were gone. “Ferran! Where‟s Josh?” Blake screamed. He tried to get to his feet, but was unable. His ankle gave him more than grief, it couldn‟t bear his weight. He hoped it was only twisted and not broken. What good would he be with a broken bone now? Ferran wheeled around. “There, up the hill. They are escaping, Blake!” “Get Josh back, Ferran. I will look after Savannah. Please! Get Josh back!” Ferran hesitated. Blake could see him look upon his wife, a sadness in his eyes. Ferran touched her equine chest and she shuddered. Her muscles twitched when he moved his hand toward the wound. Flies began to gather around her, lured by the scent of blood. “At least she is still standing, unlike Oran,” Ferran whispered. The flies had already begun to invade Oran‟s corpse. Nature didn‟t waste time. “Ferran!” Blake screamed at the top of his lungs. There was no answer. Ferran was busy smoothing his hand over Savannah‟s coat, comforting her. She looked pale, but still coherent. They both whispered to one another. At least she was lucid. Shock had not overwhelmed her yet. “Please, Ferran!” Blake yelled until his voice was hoarse and his face as red as the blood that flowed from Savannah‟s wound. “Josh has been kidnapped.” Blake was on his feet but unable to bear weight upon his ankle and he cursed under his breath. He felt useless. He wished he could run after Josh himself. But he couldn‟t. He hobbled over to the centaurs as quick as he could. Pain wrinkled his face, but he was determined to attract Ferran‟s attention. Ferran turned to him as soon as he was near enough. “Tend to her, Blake.” He kissed Savannah upon her forehead. She replied with a faint smile. Her eyes met his and she didn‟t let go of him with her embrace. “I will get the Keeper‟s son for you. I will also smite Thor for what he has done. Just as I did his pathetic servant.” Before Blake could answer, Ferran had bolted away. Savannah had let her husband go. Ferran rose to a gallop with ease and he followed the path Thor had set up the hill, a path that led into unicorn territory.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Twenty-Three

J

ack entered the cave. This time he remembered to duck so he could pass through the entrance without knocking his head. His forehead harboured the bruises of previous lapses in memory. In his hands he cradled the rudimentary bark container that held the Waters of Truth from the spring. As he poured more of the water over Keallan‟s body, the horn fell to the floor. He emptied the container onto the beast and Keallan, in his joy, let out a cry. The sound was more like a scream to Jack‟s ears, but one that echoed through the cave to return the beast‟s pleasure to their ears over and over. Jack smiled. “There, done, mate. Can you get up?” Keallan moved. No longer did the dry sand of the cave floor surround him. Instead, lush green grass nourished by the Waters of Truth that ran from his body was his new bed. “Yes, I think I can. Although, I will be stiff and sore until I can bathe my entire body in the waters.” “Right-o. We have no time to lose then. We must go there.” “And should Thor be waiting?” Keallan added with a wince. He wobbled on his legs once up, but still towered above Jack, his head just clear of the cave roof. “I have not seen the unicorn since he attacked.” “That does not mean he isn‟t there,” Keallan coughed. “He‟s a cunning fucker. He‟ll be waiting patiently for the right moment to strike. I‟m in no condition to tackle him at this point in time. And neither are you, Keeper.” “What do you mean?” “To put it bluntly, you looked fucked!” Keallan snorted. The dust that he‟d caught in his nostrils since being on the ground was blown out in one breath, mucus the vehicle with which it was carried from him. He drew back the remaining phlegm with the most disgusting noise Jack had ever heard. “You‟re bone weary and hungry, I can tell. You‟re my familiar, remember,” Keallan added. He swiped the back of his hand across his nose.

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Unicorn’s Peril “I have a handkerchief in my pocket. You could have asked.” “No time for pleasantries amongst friends, now is there?” Keallan‟s crooked, yellow teeth were revealed as his lips peeled back to form a smile. “I will go first to the spring,” Jack began. He turned toward the mouth of the cave. “I will look out for Thor. If clear, I will call you. Right-o?” Keallan bowed. “Lead on, Keeper. We have much to do.” **** Savannah‟s wound was terrible. What was worse was the fact that it didn‟t stop bleeding. The blood was forced out with every beat of her heart to mar her magnificent equine chest. The skin gashed too deep for the wound to close, her blood‟s natural clotting function unable to seal the laceration without medical attention. Blake pressed his hand upon the wound. He tried to compress and join the skin as best he could. Savannah flinched, but understood what he was doing. She groaned in discomfort. Her muscles twitched spasmodically as Blake kept his hand upon her. He, too, was covered in blood. “Can you walk, Savannah?” he whispered, fearing that speaking normally would disturb the injury further. “What about you, Keeper‟s son? Can you walk?” Blake looked up at her and her hair caught his attention. It was beautiful, golden and luminescent in the sunlight. It whipped gracefully about her face in the breeze. “I‟m not the Keeper‟s son. I‟m simply Blake, remember. But I think I could manage a limp if I had to.” Blake‟s voice was stern, his mood sour as his mind wheeled back over the events of the last few minutes. How Josh had been kidnapped by the fallen unicorn. Why had he involved Josh in all this mess? How stupid was he? “Let me tell you a secret,” Savannah said. She touched him upon his head, letting her fingers run through his dark hair. He realised his head was hot from the heat of the day without a hat. “You are more than the sum of your parents. You are yourself, your own beautiful person. And you have done nothing but act nobly and with compassion. Far more than others that have been comforted by their mother‟s bosom or had to walk in their father‟s shadow all their lives. Remember that, Blake.” He felt her fingers massage his head, and like a valve that had been turned within him, he felt better for it. Her touch soothed and reassured him, like music would to his soul or food for his hunger. “How did the unicorn get Josh to go with him, Savannah?” he whispered.

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Mark Alders “All that would have been needed was a touch and the boy would have done as he was asked. He was unprotected, unaware of Thor‟s influence. I fear the unicorn has a new familiar. Ferran will have to be careful if he is to return with the boy unharmed. There are only two ways to break the familiar from the master. One by will, the other by death.” “I was hoping you weren‟t going to say that,” Blake replied. His throat felt as though his larynx wanted to pass up out of his mouth. A great sadness washed over him like the heat swept over the lands of the farm from the desert. “What a mess this is. So many need me. What am I to do? And what‟s more, we‟re in no condition to help, are we?” “Not until we‟re better. You‟re right.” “That could take days for me and weeks for you.” Blake had kept the pressure upon her wound while they spoke. Blood still made its way down his arm like a winding river, only to drip rhythmically off his elbow. “Not if we go to the Waters of Truth,” Savannah said. “What‟s that?” Leaning upon one another, a slow but steady shamble the best they could manage, Blake and Savannah set off up the hill towards the glen of eucalypts that housed the Waters of Truth underneath its canopy. The heat of the morning sun beat down unrelenting upon their backs. The wildlife and stock of the farm now rested and were silent as the heat gathered in intensity. Only the insects, much to Blake‟s chagrin, were still active. He was unable to shoo them away, for one hand he clasped around her withers for support and the other applied pressure to her wound. This wasn‟t his idea of a good time. He hadn‟t eaten, hadn‟t showered and had little sleep. But press on his must, for he feared the loss of blood from Savannah may soon be her undoing. Shock would soon be her guest, even though she was faring quite well at the moment. She moaned, then added, slow and steady in answer to his question, “It‟s in unicorn territory, a spring that possesses magic and can heal.” Savannah gasped between deep exhales, which made Blake‟s fear grow deeper for her. He tried to bear more of her weight upon himself to ease her burden, but found it was difficult. Her body, both equine and human, added up to a great volume. “We take a great risk entering the unicorns‟ realm. I fear for us if we are discovered before we are healed.” “Just when I thought my day couldn‟t get any worse,” Blake replied with a sigh, strain already evident upon his red, sweat soaked face. “Can I ask you a question, Savannah?” “You need not ask permission. Just speak, Blake.”

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Unicorn’s Peril “Who‟s your familiar?” “You are.” Blake, surprised, stopped his amble. He looked up to her once more, his eyes meeting hers. “What? I thought I was—I mean, Ferran made me his familiar, didn‟t he?” Savannah managed a soft laugh, not offensive, but pleasant to his ears. “Ferran and I share a bond, a bond so deep even the joining of flesh or marriage could not create it.” Blake watched Savannah‟s face turn from one furrowed in pain to one soft and smooth as she spoke her husband‟s name, like speaking it eased her mind. “What is his is mine. You are my familiar, as you are his.” **** Thor bucked Josh off his back and he landed upon the grass with a thump. The boy didn‟t complain. He smiled and sat up cross legged. Thor knew the human now waited for his next instruction and his boyish smile and wanting eyes irritated him. Thor circled. He noticed that the human‟s eyes were fixed upon him. The clearing at the foot of the hill Thor had stopped at, easier to get to and cool his skin than the Waters of Truth, was lit by rays of sunlight, ones that managed to pierce the canopy of eucalypts above them. The air was thick with spray from the waterfall that cascaded loudly into a pool only metres away. The pool held in its banks the Waters of Understanding, the water that bought joy to those that swam within it. Thor towered over the lad. We will rest here for a moment. Then you will

become the key component in my plan to rid this Earth of the beast. “Yes, mighty Thor.”

Now, wash yourself in the water. Your clothes, too. You stink of the fear the centaurs placed upon you. You have nothing to worry about now so long as you are loyal. You are safe, I guarantee it. Now go, cleanse the filth from your body. Wash away your doubt and revel in the Waters of Understanding. Josh sprung to his feet. When he was at the water‟s edge, twelve unicorns came into the clearing. The rays of sunlight they passed through revealed them as though they had passed through a veil. All of them were brilliant white, reflecting the dim light back tenfold. All had metallic horns, hooves and mane, but six were golden, six were silver. Thor bowed so low, bending his head down so far his ears touched the lush grass that surrounded the Waters of Understanding.

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Mark Alders One of the twelve, the speaker of the Elder council, the one that spoke for the many, stepped forward. What happened to you, Thor? Why has your spire, the focus for your power, been removed from your person? the Elder said, his voice gentle like the beat of a butterflies wing, but with the inherent power of a wedge-tailed eagle behind it. Thor raised his head. The beast did it, he replied. He ripped it from me as

I tried to protect the Keeper from his evil grasp.

The unicorns stirred and looked at each other with concern. Thor sensed his words had rattled them just as he had hoped. Their spires glowed one by one, speaking an unheard language. Then the speaker‟s horn glowed brilliant gold to create an unnatural light that tainted everything around it. You have erred, Thor, the speaker said, his voice unwavering, giving no clue as to his emotion or the feelings of the council. Your latest acquisition is

powerless, nothing but a breath of a man. Where did you get him from? You know the rules of the familiar. I should not be the one to remind you. Those were not the words Thor expected and he bowed again. I am truly sorry. What can I do to correct my mistake, my Lords? It is too late for him, the speaker replied, again no inflection or melody to his voice that would give away his true feelings. When they referred to the boy, Thor glanced upon him bathing in the pool. The Keeper‟s son was fully clothed, his shirt stretched to his knees from the weight of the water that soaked him. He seemed to enjoy the experience the waters had upon him. Do

what you must, Thor. But he, with his mind so underdeveloped, will be dependent on you for as long as he lives. He will be like a crutch instead of an anchor. He is far too young. What use would he have to you? He cannot even sire others, his blood not yet carrying the hormones for manhood. His use limited. You should destroy him. Thor snorted, his nostrils flared and he sucked in the water laden air. The mist refreshed his body from the heat and dust he‟d travelled through to get to the clearing. He will be the bait for my trap, my Lords. And once he has served

his purpose to me, there will not be a matter of his burden. Explain yourself, Thor?

Josh laughed and danced in the water. The boy‟s actions disturbed the train of their conversation. That jarred Thor like he had been pulled by the tail. Thor cringed, for he had no choice but to take the boy if he were to smite the beast, the one unfortunate drawback to his plan. The Elder council was right. The boy would be dependent on him, like a blind pup at the teat.

I will dispose of him of course. I have no need for another familiar once I

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Unicorn’s Peril have destroyed the beast. The crows suit me fine. You spread yourself thin, Thor. Be aware, it may be your undoing. But tell us, what of the Keeper? The Keeper has been made the beast‟s familiar. Again the council stirred and seemed restless. Their spires lit up one by one as they communicated amongst themselves. This time their signals seemed more frantic.

Won‟t the Keeper be concerned for this boy…his son? That is the beauty in my plan, my Lord. The Keeper will not know, for the boy will perish by the beast‟s hand, not mine. I will see to it that it unfolds that way, even with my last dying breath. I will have my vengeance and no one will get in the way of that. Not this boy, not the Keeper and certainly not the Beast. We shall see.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

“Y

ou will take me into your mouth, drink my sperm and take my magic into you. I know that is what you want,” Aidenock said in their vision share, his human form embracing Logan. “I would like that.” “Kneel down. This time I have a lot to give you because you have pleased me so much lately.” Logan obeyed. “Thank you.” He knelt down, grabbing the ample cock of Aidenock in his human form. He decided that he didn‟t need to play, use his tongue to tickle Aidenock‟s foreskin or lick up the pre-cum that oozed from his piss slit. Instead, Logan took him into his mouth without hesitation. The sensation of tasting, feeling and experiencing a man was joy enough, but for it to be Aidenock was an honour and a privilege Logan couldn‟t quantify. “That‟s it. Take all of me, I will explode with my seed soaked magic soon.” Logan couldn‟t answer, his mouth was filled with Aidenock. He was trying to position himself so that he could take him in as deep as possible, have Aidenock‟s cock at the back of his throat without gagging. To gag now would be an affront. He only wanted to please and by the way Aidenock pushed himself into Logan, he knew he had to work harder to accomplish that goal. Aidenock placed his hands onto the back of Logan‟s head, pushing him closer to his groin. Logan tried his hardest to take in as much of Aidenock as he could, the taste, sweet and sour and acid, flooded his mouth and helped take his mind off the fact Aidenock was using his face to help him reach climax. “That‟s it. Keep at it. Take more of me into you, I know you can do it, my sweet.” Logan was now nose deep in Aidenock‟s golden pubes. He had done it. Sure, Aidenock‟s cock was huge, but Logan prided himself knowing that he

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Unicorn’s Peril could do as he was told. He hoped he had pleased his master. He looked up to see Aidenock‟s stomach tremble. Seconds later, as Aidenock gripped his head and pulled tight on his hair, he ejaculated. Pulse after pulse of his cock delivered huge globules of hot, sticky sperm down Logan‟s throat. Like treacle it slid down his oesophagus and mingled with his stomach juices, infusing him with Aidenock‟ magic in an instant. Logan kept him in his mouth, waiting for instruction to let go. None came. More and more he was given Aidenock‟s sperm, the man really did have a lot to give and Logan waited while Aidenock unloaded. “You have done well,” Aidenock said with a tremble in his voice that could only be made by someone in the throes of ecstasy. Moments later, when the final pulse of Aidenock‟s cock had given him the last remnants of the man‟s seed, he went flaccid. Logan enjoyed the sensation of his cock deflating inside his mouth, because he could taste his seed now that his cock rested on his tongue. Aidenock tasted strong, like sugared lemon juice with a cinnamon after taste. “Now take me out of your mouth and lick up any residue. You need all I can give you, it will add to your strength.” Logan obeyed again without question. He licked and kissed and enjoyed Aidenock‟s cock when it was free from his mouth for what seemed an eternity, even tonguing his balls. Aidenock groaned with delight, a sign Logan was doing well. Logan was filled with a sense of accomplishment. He had satisfied his master, that was all that mattered. Aidenock placed his hand under Logan‟s chin, giving him the signal that he could get to his feet. He said, “Now pleasure yourself. I want to watch.” Logan did so, masturbating for Aidenock‟s delight and amusement. A short moment later, his sperm burst from him, covering Aidenock‟s stomach. Logan gasped, his seed glowed, just like the unicorn‟s coat did. He was magical, too. The vision then changed. A beast, hideous in its creation and horrible to look upon, reared up. Half man, half horse. Its hooves caught the sunlight so that they sparked bright and blinded. Logan held his breath, letting the terrible vision play out in his mind. His thoughts turned until Aidenock had shown him what it was he saw. The man beast, the mutant horse, fierce and filled with anger, reared. The look upon its face like the world was against him, like the wind itself was its enemy. Logan couldn‟t help but squirm in the bedding straw, forced to watch,

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Mark Alders forced to share the knowledge Aidenock imparted with such ease into his mind. The beast he saw threatened Blake, his brother‟s arms spread out bravely in defiance, no match for the beast‟s might. That was what Aidenock wanted to show him. His dear brother Blake was in trouble, a hideous beast coming upon him in anger. Logan‟s eyes flicked open, the vision spent. His mind burned with the impression of the malevolent beast before his brother, like an after image would once a camera flash had burst. The image lingered and even though Logan blinked, it didn‟t banish the image from his mind. “What was that?” Logan said. “It was terrible.” That was a centaur. I fear our dear Blake is in trouble, Aidenock replied. He got up onto his hooves with grace and ease. His mane caught a ray of light from the high window and with that and the glow that radiated from his horn, it lit the stable with an intensity that made Logan shield his eyes. I am worried.

He has not answered my call.

“With your permission I will go to him.” Aidenock walked to the stall door. His hooves shuffled over the hay.

Granted. I need the rest anyway, for tonight we must ride again to search for my son. I need you both here by my side. I need you all for my protection. “Thank you,” Logan said. He bowed his head and backed out of the stall without turning his back to him.

Search south of the road near the gate to the farm. That is where the vision came from, Logan my sweet.

Logan dressed, throwing on his shorts he had thrown onto the equipment room floor. He didn‟t even bother to brush off the hay that stuck to it like the quills of a porcupine. He climbed into the truck, feelings of dread prickled his skin. He felt like he was being pulled by some sort of invisible string to find Blake and he hoped with all his heart that his older brother was all right. Logan hoped that his brother would be able to be with him and Aidenock once more. The times they shared with the unicorn were the most precious he could recall, even in all the years of their youth. Now more than ever his brother was important. He had also discovered, with Aidenock‟s help, that Jack wasn‟t his dad, a vision that added more anxiety to his thoughts, more hate for the lies he‟d been surrounded with all his life. When he‟d disposed of the centaur he saw in his vision, he would see to it that Jack would suffer as well. Aidenock wished it. And really his wish was all that mattered. Logan had specific orders. Save Blake and then kill the man, the liar who had pretended to be his father.

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Unicorn’s Peril Blake was now the only family he had. Therefore he had to rescue him, had to be there for him no matter what. Even if it meant that he had to slay the centaur with his bare hands or throw himself in front of the beast, he would do it. He needed Blake. He so wanted him to be safe in the stable with him, at one with each other as they were last night, the night Aidenock had filled them with his magic. And he hoped he would continue to do so each and every night for as long as they lived. Logan drove beyond the pumping station and out into the open field, his thoughts torn between anger and hope. Aidenock was right, Jack was impure and Blake was important. Aidenock was his saviour. **** Blake and Savannah managed the best they could. They supported one another as they trudged, wounded and exhausted, with no food or water, up the hill. They travelled ever so slowly over rough path and without cover to the glen that held the Waters of Truth. The intense heat of the sun blistered their backs and the cool shade of the canopy ahead beckoned. It was so welcoming to them and more than their salvation. The Waters of Truth was their purpose, the reason they lived right at this moment. Finally, they made it to the glen. The shade covered them, cool and inviting. Their heated skin relieved from the sun. Their sweat, fanned by a slight breeze that came off the Waters of Truth, added to their relief as it chilled them even more than what the shade offered. Savannah‟s wound still wept, unable to close naturally, her awkward movement as she leaned on Blake the cause. His hand was stained to his pores with her blood. But Blake didn‟t care. They were at their goal and that felt wonderful. “Nearly there, Blake,” she gasped, her beautiful hair wet with perspiration and it clung about her face. She didn‟t remove it, not bothered by it. Other things were more important, getting to the spring being the first. “I can see something,” Blake replied. His voice rose as hope lifted his words, like angels had bestowed their optimism upon him. When they approached the spring they were confronted by a sight to behold. Blake saw what it was that had caught his eye earlier. A centaur, yet not quite a centaur, was immersed hock deep in the crystal clear water. Savannah didn‟t slow her amble and taking that lead, neither did Blake. They were glad to be here. The centaur thing turned, hearing their shuffled falls on the ground.

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Mark Alders “Keallan!” Savannah screamed, her voice shrill, a tone of agony amongst it. “Well, well, what the fuck have we here?” Keallan said. The beast walked toward them. The waters splashed off his hooves so that it drenched the soil at the shore. “Ferran‟s whore and her fallen familiar bitch boy!” Blake, with his mouth agape, like he were catching flies, couldn‟t believe what his eyes revealed to him. The centaur had a spire somewhat like a unicorn. But it was twisted and black like a dead branch had been thrust into his ugly head. The sight made a vulture, a carrion feeder, seem handsome in comparison to what stood before him. The centaur‟s face and body revolting in its design, like spare parts had been used to make it. Blake was taken aback. “What the hell is that?” Blake said with a gasp that stole his breath. “I am Keallan, and you are well within your rights to tremble before me.” “The Beast!” Savannah hissed. She took a step back, her gait awkward, making her lose balance. Her hoof found Blake‟s foot. Blake yelped, the foot she had stepped upon the one that bore his twisted ankle. The pain he felt was more than something that lingered, but shot up his leg to increase his discomfort. He let go of her. Blood oozed out of her wound. “Seems you two are made for each other. Such a sad sight I must say.” Keallan came closer, a sneer upon his misshapen lips. A sight that revolted and terrified all at the same time. “I think there is a score to settle between us, Savannah. And fuck me, right here and now would be as good a time any time, wouldn‟t you agree?” Blake, clumsy in speed but not in intention, placed himself between the mutant centaur and Savannah. He tried to keep her close to him, his shoulders pressed against her chest, an act that covered her wound from the malformed centaur‟s sight. “Don‟t come near us, Beast,” he spat. The fire in his eyes matched his voice. Keallan looked down at Blake. Once close enough to worry, he laughed. “What makes you think, you fucker, that you‟re any kind of match for me?” “I will fight you with every breath in my body. I will not let you harm her. Do you understand me?” Savannah kept creeping back, like she knew something about this centaur Blake didn‟t. She held him around his chest, forcing him to move back, to keep his body between her and the beast. “You are such a noble thing, just like Jack.” Keallan straightened himself

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Unicorn’s Peril to stand tall once more. As if on cue, commanded by an unseen authority, Jack came into Blake‟s view. He came up an opposite path, a spring in his step Blake had never seen. In his arms he held a neat pile of twigs he‟d collected for a fire. Blake thought he looked well, if a little tired. In far better condition than himself anyway. “Dad…Jack,” Blake said. His voice cracked even with those short words. That surprised him. How quick his emotions had welled up like the questions inside rose up to a crescendo in his mind. Blake was a tangle of conflicted feelings. Joy, relief, hurt, and sorrow. All wanted centre stage. All demanded to be satiated. Blake was overwhelmed. Jack looked up, dropped his bundle of kindling and ran to his son. “Blake, mate!” he screamed, elation imbued in his words. “So glad to see you.” Blake stepped forward. He didn‟t know why. His throat went tight and he feared he‟d be unable to create any further words to explain how he felt to the man that had lied to him all his life. Blake‟s cheeks tingled and he took one more step forward. Savannah‟s hot body was no longer against his clothes, her wound no longer blemishing him as it wept. Only then did he notice she had released him from her grasp. He stopped his advance when clear of Savannah, only a few metres between him and the man he thought he knew. Jack stopped, too. The distance left like a gulf between them. Blake knew right there and then that words were no longer relevant. He tensed his fists into tight balls, his knuckles white. Jack‟s face twitched. “There is something…something I have to tell you…Blake.” Blake couldn‟t help it. He couldn‟t control his feelings and water welled in his eyes. Tears rolled down his dirty cheeks to leave clean trails upon his grotty face. He opened his mouth, meaning to answer, but only a hiss of air escaped, his throat so clenched he couldn‟t form his words in any coherent manner. Jack took a small step forward. “I have been nothing short of a fool, Blake. I have lied to you and your brother.” Jack‟s last strained words were but a mere wisp to those he had started. Blake was still for what seemed an eternity. He examined the man only metres from him. While he watched, a yearning overtook him, a feeling that had been pushed deep down since he had first heard this man wasn‟t his father. Now it rose within him, unable to be held back. The suppressed

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Mark Alders emotion bubbled violently to the surface and Blake struggled to name it. His brow rutted as he thought, a victim of the moment. He felt awkward and strange in his own skin. Then, as Jack came a little closer, his arms outstretched, beckoning to him, Blake discovered the nature of the feeling that consumed him. It was love. Blake sprung to an awkward bolt, not caring about his ankle. The pain somehow diminished, yet making his gait wild as he bore his weight on one leg. He didn‟t worry, for he had opened his arms to take in Jack‟s welcome. Blake went to the man that had raised him. He folded into Jack‟s arms as tears poured down his cheeks until they dropped from his chin in an erratic rhythm. Blake blubbered like a wounded child in Jack‟s arms. The unspoken words had gained all the meaning they could, complete understanding between the two men. Finally, Jack spoke, his voice soft in Blake‟s ear, but broken. “I‟m so, so sorry, Blake. Will you ever forgive me?” “I forgive you…Dad.” They held each other in a tight embrace for an age. The heat, their exhaustion and the pain Blake felt, all subsided into the distance, as far away as the horizon of the farm. Eventually they did separate and tears still dripped from their bleary blood shot eyes. Jack ruffled Blake‟s dark hair, like he had always done, even when he was a young boy. The warmth he felt for his dad incomparable, even the truth not strong enough to chill his feelings for this man. Blake turned. Savannah was in the Waters of Truth. Her wound had closed over and looked better already. The beast named Keallan was close, yet far enough away so as not to be rude. He looked upon them with what Blake could only imagine was a smile, for his malformed mouth was hard to read for any expression as he would know it. “I love it when things come together so nicely,” Keallan said. Jack picked up the twigs. “I see you‟ve met Keallan.” “Hard to miss really, isn‟t he?” “You can say that again,” Jack said with a laugh Blake had missed so, especially over the last few years as the farm became ravaged more and more with the drought. “But with all his front, he‟s a mate. Through and through.” “Savannah and I have come to an understanding, Keeper,” Keallan said. The beast then offered out his hand to help him to the water. “So long as you are not harmed, either of you, she will leave me be. Gee, aren‟t I the lucky one?”

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Unicorn’s Peril “Or until my husband says otherwise,” Savannah added. She didn‟t look at them, but kept with the bathing of her body in the Waters of Truth. “That suits me fine,” Jack said. “And what about Logan? Where is he?” Blake hung his head. “I don‟t know, Dad. He‟s been bewitched by a unicorn. I don‟t know how to save him. My plan…failed.” “We shall soon see about that,” Keallan said, “My father, the bastard, will pay for his ways. And with your permission, Keeper, I think once we are rested we should ride to your home and sort this mess out.” Jack looked at Blake with intent. “What plan?” “I think we should all rest and eat before we make any move,” Savannah said. “Blake, come to the water. Your ankle will benefit from it.” “Agreed,” Blake said. He leaned all his weight upon Keallan‟s arm. Jack followed Blake and Keallan to the shore of the spring. There was plenty of time to tell his dad about Logan and Josh. In the here and now Savannah was right. Blake needed to be at his best before he even contemplated any sort of rescue, with or without help.

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Chapter Twenty-Five

S

avannah moved away from the others that sat by an open fire. Flames licked a small rock wallaby Keallan had killed earlier. The beast was a deft hand in all aspects of hunting small prey, from the capture to the consumption. The carcass, which he had gutted, cleaned and stripped easily, let off wondrous odours while it cooked. She took in the air and underneath the sweet aroma of the roasting meat, Savannah became attracted by another smell, a smell carried by the hot wind off the desert. A scent that stirred feelings within her. She had caught the odour of her husband. The gentle breeze was prevalent with the sweat of his body, so much so she could taste it, enjoy it, savour it. Savannah smiled and went to him. Seconds later, she burst at full gallop out of the clearing, down under the canopy and into the cool shade over the path. She saw him, her Ferran. Panic was drawn upon his face. The toil of his gallop covered him, his coat a lustrous sheen, one that enhanced his toned physique, both equine and man. His muscles flexed, even as he came to a stop. Savannah went to him, able to move freely since the Waters of Truth had soaked into her skin. The wound from Oran was now only a minor mar upon her soft coat. A dark spot. A few more washes in the cool, healing waters of the spring would leave her skin unmarked and unblemished like it was before the incident. “What‟s the matter, Ferran?” she said, her voice muffled by his hair as she dug her head into his neck, taking in his musk directly off his skin. Ferran reciprocated her tender touch upon him. He embraced her tight and ran his fingers down her back until he found her withers. She moaned. “I‟m glad I caught you. I was afraid I‟d miss you. The boy, the Keeper‟s son, he is lost to Thor.” “I feared as much. Josh is too young…so sad. Is there nothing we can do?”

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Unicorn’s Peril “Magic must dispel magic,” Ferran snorted. “Only Thor can release the lad from his clutches. Even then the lad‟s mind may still be soiled.” “We must do something to help him.” “If there is a way, we will find it. He is the Keeper‟s son, after all.” “While you are in a pleasant frame of mind, I suggest you hold onto those thoughts while you walk with me to the Waters of Truth.” “What do you mean?” Ferran said. He pulled himself from her, separating their embrace. His hair, wet from sweat, stuck to hers and remained joined for a few moments after they parted. Savannah didn‟t reply. She clasped her hand into his and led him up the path toward the spring. The journey was short to where the beast sat and shared food with the Keeper and his espoused son. She hoped her touch would soothe him, for once Ferran spied Keallan she shuddered to think of what he would do. **** Blake found that he enjoyed the fresh cooked meat of the wallaby, smoked from the open fire. The taste was pleasant enough even though the flesh had not been cured and was stringy. In the end, food was food, and hunger no judge when it lingered. The pangs he felt had to be quashed, especially seeing as he had not eaten since lunch time yesterday. From the look of it both Keallan and Jack were in the same predicament and they gorged themselves on the banquet the beast had provided. “Hey, where did Savannah go?” Blake asked, his words garbled as the half masticated meat rolled around his mouth. Keallan glanced over his shoulder. “To see her husband,” he replied. He then continued to devour the leg he held and he ripped a large chunk of flesh clean off the bone with his sharp, crooked teeth. Keallan‟s teeth may be unattractive, but they were perfect implements for tearing flesh. Blake got to his feet. “Ferran found us then?” “It would not have been fucking hard. A blind goat crippled with age could have found you,” Keallan added, an unctuous smile crossed his lips. “The path here has been disturbed with your clumsiness. With that and the blood, it‟s clear a wounded animal had staggered this way. Not good if followed by the likes of me, hey?” Blake didn‟t bother to respond, for he chose to see if he could meet with Ferran instead of getting into a discussion with Keallan. The thought of Josh crowded his mind as he left his dad and the beast. He hoped the boy was all

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Mark Alders right, unharmed. He hoped that the Lord of the centaurs had rescued him from the fallen unicorn‟s clutches. His hope faded as quick as daylight deep in the winter solstice. He couldn‟t see Josh with Ferran or Savannah. “Where‟s Josh?” Blake burst to a run. His mind screamed with his voice and his words not only reflected his disbelief but his anger as well. How could the mighty Ferran not be able to save Josh from a wounded unicorn? Savannah held out her hand, motioning for Blake to stop. He did so and dust lifted up and surrounded him. The dust emulated the anguish that rose up within him. Blake‟s heart felt heavy, the weight upon him great, for he was responsible for Josh‟s safety, for the boy‟s well being while under his care. Above all things Blake felt guilt. If Ferran couldn‟t get the boy from the unicorn, who could? Josh was truly lost and it was all his fault. “Where‟s Josh, Ferran?” Blake repeated. “The boy has been…” Ferran‟s eyes widened, seemed to bulge from their sockets. “The beast!” Before Blake could question Ferran further, the centaur charged forward with all his might, like race gates had shot open. Savannah let out a yelp, for her husband‟s hand tore away from hers as he bolted away. She had no choice but to let go. Blake, in the confusion that followed, spun to see what was going on. Ferran went to Keallan, but Blake was bowled over in the rush. His backside found the dirt and the resulting dust and debris choked him. His body was battered as the full weight of Ferran pounded through him. **** The rage within Ferran blinded his reason. He was unable to see anything other than the abomination that dared step upon the sacred soil near the Waters of Truth. “Keallan!” Ferran screamed with all the air in his lungs. He drew out the word while he kept up his blinding charge. His breath finally exhausted, only his glare, intent and fixed on the beast, remained. Keallan sprung to his feet, dropped his meal into the dirt and also charged, all in one fluid motion, ready for whatever it was Ferran would deliver to him. Seconds later, both beasts slammed head on into one another. Walls of massive muscle and flesh met. Neither one gave way or submitted. It was like

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Unicorn’s Peril two great locomotives had crossed onto the same track and had collided. Ferran recoiled away from Keallan with tremendous force, the energy of his strike having nowhere to go but back at him. He staggered, his balance unstable for a brief moment, vulnerable to attack. He noticed the beast had also been flung back, the dust Keallan had kicked up around him evidence of that. He smiled, not with a smile of joy, but one full of contempt. The beast regained his footing just as he had done. Ferran cursed under his breath. “Not as easy to get rid of as you first fucking thought, am I, Uncle?” Keallan said with a sneer. He circled Ferran, something a dingo would do with its prey. “You are not worthy to call me uncle, Beast,” Ferran spat, his lips peeled back tight to reveal his perfect white teeth. He too circled, waiting for the right moment to strike. “What would you rather I called you? How‟s fucker?” “You sicken me. You disgust me. How dare you even come close to me or Savannah. How dare you, Beast.” “Oh spare me!” Keallan screamed, his voice harsh and jagged. “I‟ve had enough bother for one day.” “The day is still young.” And with that Ferran leaned forward but withdrew his charge quickly, the purpose of his lunge to place Keallan off guard rather than to actually charge at him. Ferran‟s intention was to scare, and from the look on the beast‟s face he had succeeded. “You‟re weak. Submit to me now and I will end it quickly for you. I do have compassion for those under me.” “So fucking full of yourself, aren‟t you? Suppose I needed to tell you something you must know. I can‟t very well tell you if I‟m dead, now can I?” “What‟s that? Speak up.” “Oh, want to know now do you?” Keallan said, unexpectedly bowing before Ferran. Ferran stopped and studied Keallan, unable to determine the beast‟s motives for his actions or his words. “What are you doing, Beast?” “I‟m at your service, Ferran. How else do you propose to slay Thor without my aid?” “You? Slay Thor? Bah!” Ferran came closer to Keallan, not choosing to rear up. He knew that if he did so it would expose his belly to the beast‟s twisted but sharp spire. Keallan was many things, an abomination that walked the Earth, a creature that stained the soil with his existence, but, much to Ferran‟s chagrin, he wasn‟t stupid. “Who do you fucking think ripped the horn from his very head? A human?

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Mark Alders Another unicorn? No, dear uncle, it was I.” “The words you speak are lies,” Ferran screamed. He charged once more, seizing the opportunity to attack. His enemy‟s head was low while he bowed, a mistake Oran had paid for with his life, Ferran remembered. Ferran stopped his gallop with a short jump. He managed to raise his hooves and place them over Keallan‟s skull. His intention was to strike hard with them, to end the beast‟s pain upon this world in one easy motion. Keallan must have anticipated his plan and reared up to full height at the same time Ferran lifted his body. The result was a tangle of legs as both of them struck one another, clubbed by each other‟s hooves. The thuds as they struck were dull but fierce against each other‟s unprotected flesh, like meat mallets that pounded to tenderise. Both yelled out in pain. Dust eddied and whipped around them as they fought, locked in combat. Not one submitted to the other. Keallan then wheeled his head around in an uppercut motion and his spire found Ferran‟s human chest easily. Instantly, a bright red gash opened up across Ferran‟s toned pectorals. The blood that flowed from the wound stained his chest and stomach. “I will kill you,” Ferran yelled, his face crimson with anger, like his human chest with the gore wound upon it. Once more Keallan swung his head and swept his horn like it were a sword held in an expert hand. This time Ferran pulled himself away. Their melee stopped. He knew that Keallan could have easily struck him in a vital part should he have so wished. Was Keallan extending the fight for his own twisted pleasure? Or was there something else to it? They stood separated, both sweat stained and panting, both fierce with anger for one another, their glares intent and hate filled. “Enough!” a voice boomed from behind Ferran. Both combatants turned to see the Keeper run to them. “Both of you should know better.” Ferran snorted and struck his hoof across the dirt. He itched to go at the beast once more. “Stay out of this Keeper. This is between family.” Jack came between them. “If you strike Keallan one more time I will banish you from my land, Ferran. Do you hear me?” “A small price to pay,” Ferran screamed. Ferran was about to lurch forward again but somehow unable. He was being held. He twisted his human torso around to see who would dare stop him. Anger boiled over inside, its fuel of hate endless within him. That is until he set his eyes upon his dear, sweet Savannah and the human Blake. The look upon Savannah‟s face told him to desist, to stop this foolish

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Unicorn’s Peril fight. “He has been forgiven,” Savannah said with a calmness to her voice, a voice that carried a beautiful tone to his ears, a tone that magically soothed him. Her touch upon his rump was firm and it comforted him, too. Ferran‟s anger subsided, like a tide retreating into the night. “So long as the Keeper and Blake live, so shall he. That was my promise to the beast and you will help me keep it, my darling husband.” Ferran relaxed his tightened muscles. The pain from the cut seared and punched him like it had only then sliced his flesh. His face tightened and he sighed. “Your compassion is his salvation, Savannah my darling. I will help you with whatever you need me to do. You know that.” “Good,” Savannah said. She moved her hand up his body, ending up at the nape of his neck. “Now, after you have bathed in the Waters of Truth, we all must discuss how we are to going release Josh from Thor‟s grip.” “Josh?” Jack said, coming around to meet with Savannah. “He‟s here?” “Yes, but in the clutches of Thor, I‟m afraid,” Savannah replied. “How old is the boy?” Keallan interjected. “Twelve,” Blake replied, the sadness in his voice palatable. “Fuck me! With him caught by Thor and Logan in my unicorn father‟s snare, things are looking grim for your family, Keeper.” “What am I to do, mate?” Jack said. „We need a plan, Keeper. I suggest you come with me. Only I am able to do damage to Thor, seeing as I am half unicorn. Blake, I think you should see to your brother, since my father knows you. It would be easier for you to implement any sort of action against the bastard.” “Hopefully it will work better than my last plan went anyway,” Blake said with a sigh. Ferran snorted. “You were not to blame. But the beast is right. Aidenock will require something special to thwart his hold on your brother.” “Thor‟s horn!” Keallan blurted. “A magical creation, even though spent of power, would still be useful against him. It‟s in the cave just beyond the eastern path where I left it. You must use it. How fucking delicious. What justice it would be when you plunge his lover‟s horn into his flesh to end his life. I wish I could witness such justice.” “I‟ll go get it then,” Blake said. A smile formed upon his lips. “But wouldn‟t a gun or knife be easier?” “My father is not affected by man-made creations. His magic is powerful, especially as he has a familiar now.”

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Mark Alders “Oh.” Blake nodded. “I understand.” “Come, Keeper, we will set off in search of your youngest son. Thor could prove hazardous and we must tread carefully.” Ferran looked at Savannah. “We will wait here for you, Blake. Then we will ride with you to the homestead. I have to heal first before I go anywhere anyway.” “Sure. I won‟t be long.” Ferran looked deep into Savannah‟s beautiful blue eyes. His hand found her withers. He massaged it and that made her smile. “Take your time.”

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Twenty-Six

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ogan climbed out of the truck. The heat outside struck him, in stark contrast to the cab‟s cool air-conditioning. The sight of a dead animal in the field was reason enough to stop and investigate. He rushed to see if any clues could be fathomed as to the animal‟s demise. The carcass of the horse had already been attacked by crows, the hide pock marked all over from the bird‟s beaks that had pecked and tore at the flesh. The animal‟s skin looked like a sawn-off shot gun had been fired at close range into it. When Logan came closer to the animal a swarm of flies, both bush and household, rose up like a dark cloud, coming out of the rips and tears in the animal‟s flesh. The animal wasn‟t a horse at all, but a unicorn. Logan gasped at this discovery. The horn, bronze hooves and mane were distinguishable even though the rest of the carcass had been savaged by the birds and insects which were attracted by the offer of a free meal. He knelt beside the unicorn. The flies settled to rest again on the hide, his presence no longer their concern. The head of the unicorn had been smashed by something heavy and blunt and if Logan didn‟t know any better, he‟d swear it was a hoof that had cracked open the skull of the creature like an egg shell, the shape unmistakable. His stomach turned, for he could only think of Blake bravely facing that rearing centaur, how he had to stand unprotected before it. Aidenock‟s vision wasn‟t clear as to what had happened to his brother, but from the look of the dead unicorn, it wasn‟t hard to guess. Logan swallowed hard. He spied a trail of dried blood that lead away from the carcass, a sight that filled him with even more dread. If Blake wasn‟t dead, then he was most certainly injured. Perhaps he was suffering, only able to pull himself away with his last dying breath in an attempt to find shelter. Logan swallowed again. This time he retched in response to his dark thoughts.

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Mark Alders Logan‟s attention was drawn back to the unicorn that was being devoured from the inside out at his feet. Perhaps the unicorn was protecting Blake. He knew Aidenock would, without question of hesitation, do the same if he were attacked by such a hideous creation. The centaur, a creature he couldn‟t even create in his worst nightmares, haunted his mind. The vision of it as it reared up, as its hooves spiralled near his brother‟s head, was more than frightening. He couldn‟t imagine the suffering Blake had to endure, clubbed by the hooves then having to drag himself injured and bleeding across a dry, dusty field. Logan stood up. The early afternoon sun beat down on his back and warmed his skin so that he began to sweat. The flies now bothered him, attracted by the salt his body released through the pores of his heated skin. He left the dead unicorn, uttering a prayer under his breath. He promised to return and bury the creature once he had found his brother. Logan followed the blood trail that led up a hill to a forest of eucalypts, determined to locate his brother no matter what condition he may be in. **** Ferran came to Savannah. “Did you notice that Keallan bore the brunt of your attack for the Keeper, just as we did for his eldest son?” Savannah said. She smoothed her hand across his human back. “Yes. The beast held back, too, Savannah. He did not want to fight with his full force.” He craned his neck so his lips could come close to her ear. Savannah giggled. “He‟s powerful. We would be wise to keep him on our side.” Savannah flicked her hair back with her hand, exposing her neck to him. He pressed his lips against her, his tongue leaving wet spots on her soft white skin as he worked down to her shoulder. “What‟s the human saying, my darling?” he uttered between kisses, yielding and gentle against her skin. “Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.” Savannah nodded in agreement, but didn‟t reply. She embraced him and pushed herself closer, feeling his warmth upon her skin. His scent wafted up into her nostrils, so alluring, so sensual, and she moaned in delight once she had taken her fill of him. Without uttering a word she led him to the spring, the hot breeze at their backs, their manes bristled by the wind. She wanted him, needed him upon her and she flicked her tail up so it was now prone against her back, an action that reflected her want for him.

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Unicorn’s Peril When they stepped into the spring, the magical cool water nourished and filled them with its power. Savannah stooped and cupped her hands so she could gather the healing fluid within her grasp. Holding the Waters of Truth, she splashed his chest, over and over until all the blood upon him was washed away, taken with the water as it dripped off his torso. His skin was clear, smooth, toned, and with only a faint white line any evidence of the cut that once marred his body. He was healed. “I want you, Savannah,” he said, his breath as hot as the wind that eddied around them. Savannah kissed his wet chest until she reached his nipple. She rolled her tongue around it until the skin tightened the areola. The result of her stimulation evident upon him, his nipple awakened. Ferran pushed her away with a gentle touch, his expression wanting. He cupped his hands, just as she had. After he had claimed the water, he too splashed her and covered her in the Waters of Truth, her skin and hair wet until she shined so alluring in the afternoon light. The water closed her scar even more until only a slight depression remained on her perfect tan coat. He came to her and pressed himself against her. The water squelched as it was pushed out as their flesh made contact. The sensation of skin on skin pleased him. Again and again they soaked one another with the cool water. They embraced, kissed and then covered each other in the Waters of Truth once more, just like they were performing a ritual. Steam rose from their equine backs, the water heated both from their passion and the warmth of the sun. Ferran moaned with pleasure in unison with his wife while they embraced. Then, as he pulled away, she moved down his side and ran her hands across his flank. Firm but sensuous, she massaged his coat, the water the lubricant. Savannah crouched down into the water proper, submerged as deep as the spring went. While doing so her hands caressed his legs, starting at his fetlocks and moving upwards, slow and firm. Her hands smoothed each and every muscle and they quivered and twitched in response. A deep groan from the depths of his lungs reverberated within his body until released out of his mouth. All the while he massaged her head as she knelt before him. He ran his fingers through her blonde hair, in a circle around the crown of her scalp. Savannah also groaned in delight to his determined touch. Only his caress upon her withers gave her greater pleasure. She had so yearned for him, to be with him since she had recovered from her illness.

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Mark Alders Savannah smiled at him and he pulled her up out of the water. The strength in his arms, in his resolve, made the task effortless. They kissed again. Then, once parted, she sidled her body around to be in front of his. The moment her rump touched his equine chest she flicked her soaking wet tail so that it slapped him, the noise like that of moist leather against his skin. He whimpered like a juvenile while her tail whipped his human torso. The fires of desire within him burned intense. His arms, all rippled muscles and toned, taught skin, embraced her equine hips. Savannah rested her long flowing tail upon her back. She was ready for him, ripe for the taking. His sheath loosened and his shaft was released from its hold. She moved forward slightly and twisted her human torso so she could see him, watch his wild expression as he became a part of her. She was receptive and his skin tingled with the anticipation of what would be. Ferran kept his hands upon her back. Without delay he pulled himself onto her. His touch was gentle even though she bore all his bulk. His body positioned so that his weight was even over her equine back. His shaft slipped easily inside her. They were connected, now as one being. He moved up her further and further so that his head met hers and she smiled in eagerness of his arrival. Once in position, satisfied he was deep inside her warmth, he gave a reassuring nibble at her ear. They kissed again, deep and loving, as their fluids mingled. This time his tongue moved and danced with hers as they kissed. Savannah shuddered in delight. He realised how much he had missed her flesh being part of him since her illness. Their bond enhanced by their physical contact, the sensation of their touch coursed all over their bodies. Magic sparked between their contacted flesh as they remained joined. Ferran circled his arms around her torso and she held tight to them in response. His front equine legs draped over her shoulders and his hind legs now bore his weight. Everything was perfect. For the longest time he kept himself within her, their bodies heating their skin until the Waters of Truth upon them had evaporated, only to be replaced with their sweat. Her pheromones spurred him on and groans and yelps of pleasure passed over his quivering lips. Their bodies, hot like the desert, were only fanned by their longing for one another as they continued to consummate their love. Ferran felt her contract and relax her muscles around his shaft rhythmically, and they pulsed along his length. His bulk shuddered with pleasure, his skin tingled. His kisses only stopped by moans before their lips connected again, let go, and came together over and over, edging each other

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Unicorn’s Peril to climax. Ferran pulled himself away from her sensuous lips, red with their fervour. “I love you, Savannah my darling.” Savannah lifted her arm, bringing it around to cradle his head. She ran her fingers through his glistening wet, black hair. “I love you too, Ferran, my husband.” Ferran‟s nostrils flared and he let out a cry. His massive body shook. He had filled her with his seed, with his love, and a deep sigh indicated he was done. He came away from her. The sensitive skin of his shaft, having been bonded for so long, was numb. But he delighted in that sensation. The magic dissipated into the air like static electricity released from a charged object as he came away proper from her. Both stood for a moment in silence. His shaft soft, yet quivered and dripped with their affection as it returned to its place within his protective sheath. Savannah hugged him and their human chests now touched. The static sparked again between them and they kissed once more. “Shall I bathe you some more?” Ferran whispered once his lips had separated from hers. Savannah giggled. “You want more?” Ferran gasped, then said, “Yes. I want more.” “But Blake will return soon.” “He can look away if embarrassed by what we do. I need you, Savannah. Are you going to deny me?” “You shall have me again, for it would please me, too,” Again she crouched down to gather up more of the Waters of Truth. “I want you as well.” “It would please me,‟ Ferran said. His loins stirred again and his sheath released his full length once more.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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he spire of the fallen unicorn was where Keallan had said it would be, in a cave only a few hundred metres away from the Waters of Truth. Blake plucked it off the cave floor. He looked upon it with fascination and turned it in his hand. The horn was caked with dried blood all along its length. The root ball at the end of the spire was crusted with hair and flesh, presumably from the unicorn itself. There was no doubt it had indeed been ripped off the creature‟s head, torn from the bone. Blake couldn‟t help but sympathise, if only for a split second, as to how the unicorn felt. With the spire in his hand he left the cave. He crouched down low to clear the mouth, only to be confronted with the sight of his brother. “Blake!” Logan yelled. He had come to his brother up the dirt path, arms outstretched. “You‟re all right, thank God.” “Logan, what are you doing here? I mean, yeah, I-I‟m okay,” Blake replied. He hid the horn behind his back from his brother. They embraced. “I saw the centaur attack you.” Blake recoiled and pulled himself out of Logan‟s grasp. “What are you talking about?” „Aidenock‟s vision. He showed me how the centaur had reared up with you beneath it. I thought you had been injured…or worse, killed like that poor unicorn in the field.” Blake opened his mouth, about to answer, about to respond to the blatant misinformation his brother had been spoon fed by Aidenock, when he decided against such action. He closed his mouth, a faint smile Blake‟s reply. The gleam in Logan‟s eye, the glow upon his face had made him reconsider his course of action. His brother was elated to see him. Surely there was another way to break the bond, a way that didn‟t involve being harsh or causing harm to his brother? Blake had to believe the best way to ease Aidenock‟s clasp upon Logan‟s mind was to make him come to the realisation that he was just his puppet.

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Unicorn’s Peril From what Savannah had told him, a familiar could only be freed by his own will. His brother‟s mind was influenced by the pleasure of his flesh and Aidenock knew that and freeing him while he was under such control would prove difficult at best. “Come, we must return to the stable, Blake,” Logan said. His voice was musical and reflected a tone that held joy, a tone that wrenched at Blake. Blake knew the source of that pleasure. Logan clasped his hand around Blake‟s shoulder. He pulled at him, urging him to come with him. But Blake looked down to his boots. Red dust had covered them he noticed. His guilt prickled at the nape of his neck. The horn he held behind his back seemed heavy, for the realisation of what he must do came to him like a bolt of lightning from a dark sky. If Logan wasn‟t able to free himself willingly, then only the death of his master would break the familiar‟s bond. “I said, let‟s go, Blake,” Logan added. He leaned over to place a kiss onto Blake‟s lips. Logan‟s touch was gentle, placed so as not to apply pressure, but to transfer Aidenock‟s power. Before Blake had a chance to recoil, a split second to pull himself away, the unicorn‟s magic Logan was imbued with shot from his mouth into Blake‟s. A bright blue spark flared to transfer the magic and was then gone. Blake shuddered. His body tightened like it were a manikin and the horn he held spiked the ground when his fingers tensed and he dropped it. His body became arrested by the magic. Then it was over. Instead of feeling shocked by what had happened, Blake felt a yearning. A yearning to be with Aidenock. To ride with him. To have him fill him with his wonderful power. And above all, to be with his brother upon his back as they thundered over field and hill, the wind caressing his nakedness. He became aroused. “Now, will you come with me, my dear sweet Blake,” Logan said, the resemblance to Aidenock‟s words and inflections uncanny and they washed over him. Logan kissed him again. Blake‟s thoughts were wiped clear from his mind while his brother infused him with Aidenock‟s power. He tried to grasp hold of any semblance of reality he could gather. He found it hard, for his mind was blank. Fighting the onslaught of Aidenock‟s magic Logan had given him wasn‟t easy. His power invaded his body and mind like it were a virus, a disease that once it had taken hold would consume him. He shook his head. Then, desperately, he

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Mark Alders tried to pull himself together. He screamed something incoherent, as if to blow his mind clear with his voice. Logan pulled off Blake‟s shirt. “You have no need to be burdened before me, let me help you remove your shackles.” Blake gasped, for his brother ran his hot tongue over his chest. Logan moved down toward his stomach and power flickered from his mouth as he did so. Blake, overwhelmed, had no choice but to absorb the magic fed to him from his brother‟s mouth. “Logan!” Blake said with a shrill. His brother had removed his shorts and underwear. “I-I have to…” He trailed off, for Logan had almost covered his body with his tongue‟s caress. Blake‟s skin quivered in rapturous pleasure. His mind wheeled. And even though he stepped back to try and gain some distance between him and his brother, he was still infused. Aidenock‟s power charged into him like he were the Earth to the magic. He kicked the spire he had dropped earlier. A spark ignited in Blake‟s mind. A small spark, but it was enough to pull him away from the terrible moment. To keep his mind free from the suffocating power Aidenock had over Logan. Logan had reached his navel with his tongue, pushing it inside. The magic came into him faster and faster. Blake leaned down in a side-ways manner so as not to disturb Logan as he performed Aidenock‟s dirty work. He hoped Logan wouldn‟t become alerted to his intention too soon as he reached for the spire. He was desperate to get to the horn, for it represented the only hope he had of ever releasing Logan and himself from the malevolent unicorn‟s clutches. “Don‟t resist, Blake my sweet,” Logan said, his voice not his own but the voice of the unicorn. A lilt, beautiful and hypnotic, came to his ears and it felt just as wonderful as the magic that sparked into his skin. “You will be free soon, I guarantee it.” Blake fought with every synapse in his mind, with every sinew and every muscle in his body. He tried to buy time before he became submerged by the waves of power that coursed through him. Logan kept going, down and down, covering him completely in the magic that sparked from his mouth. His tongue worked and twisted across his flesh, leaving Blake wet in its wake. Blake touched the spire. Without delay he pulled the horn up from the dirt and as best he could, stiffened by Aidenock‟s power, he rose it up to full height again. “I will strike you. Hurt you with this if you don‟t stop right now,” Blake said with venom in

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Unicorn’s Peril his voice. His words came out disjointed. The magic still scintillated over him even though his brother had pulled away. “I must be myself, not another‟s puppet as you are.” Wave upon wave of magic coursed through his body. But because Blake knew of the consequences of this power, his mind remained sour to the magic‟s taste. He was thankful for that. Logan looked up. The glare in his eyes frightened Blake. They seemed flamed by the magic he was imbued with. “What did you say, Blake my sweet?” Aidenock‟s voice said, coming out in time with Logan‟s mouth movements. Before Blake could answer, Logan sprung to his feet. He bolted up from his kneeling position to come upon Blake as quick as a jack-rabbit across an open field. Blake, bound by his clothes around his ankles, had nowhere to go but backwards. Logan fell upon him. They both hit the ground with a dull thud. The dust and dirt was kicked up so that it choked Blake with a cloud that surrounded them. They rolled down the path, a tangled mess of limbs as Blake tried so desperately to free himself from his brother‟s tight grip. Blake, overcome, exhausted and still affected by the magic, came out worse from the struggle. His face pressed against the ground, cut and bleeding. He could do nothing but eat the dirt as Logan overpowered him with ease. Logan was possessed by the unicorn, his power and his unnatural strength came from him. All Blake wanted to do now was get his brother off him, to try and reason with him somehow. That would be his only chance. His spirit sank. The horn was nowhere to be seen. Blake couldn‟t remove his brother no matter how much he squirmed and wriggled. Logan‟s strength was too great. Blake‟s eyes darted about, for he had to find something, anything to help him get Logan off his back. “Now you will feel the full force of my power, my dear sweet Blake. Then, and only then will you fully understand,” Aidenock said through his puppet. Logan, as strong as an ox, pushed himself up. He kept one hand on the small of Blake‟s back, keeping him pinned to the ground. The pain from the pebbles and the rocks was sharp and intense, but Blake had no option but to wait and see what Logan would do next. Blake rose his head up and managed to twist his neck enough to see what his brother was up to behind him. Sadness struck him like a bolt of lightning, the sight he witnessed sickened him and the pit of his stomach sank. He felt helpless.

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Mark Alders “If you will not take my power in the genteel way, in the beautiful manner in which it is intended, then, Blake, you will have it direct. You will have it all at once inside you so you cannot fight it, for I fear you have fallen from my grace,” Aidenock said. The lips of his brother sneered as he spoke his words. Logan had pulled down his shorts front. His cock was fully aroused and his foreskin retracted. The sight of it made Blake gasp out in anguish, Aidenock‟s intention clear. “What are you going to do to me?”„ Blake was well aware of the answer, but he wanted to buy himself some time. Once more he tried to see where the horn had fallen. Unfortunately, it had been knocked from his hand in the struggle as they both rolled down the hill. Sweat beaded down is forehead, and the pressure Logan placed on his back to keep him in place caused him pain. Soon he would be fucked, and in more ways than one. Then he saw it. The spire was under a bush not too far from his reach if he stretched as hard as he could. The blood covered horn was Blake‟s last hope of ever being free from Aidenock. He was left with no other choice but to use it against Logan before his brother could perform Aidenock‟s biding. “The transfer of power is lubricated by body fluid, saliva the weakest, sperm the strongest,” Aidenock said. His voice mocked him, sarcastic from his brother‟s mouth. “My dear sweet Logan will deliver my magic to you in the strongest way possible. Don‟t worry, it will soon be over for you. Then you will be mine.” Logan‟s cock pressed against Blake‟s rectum. Blake screamed. He stretched his hand out to grasp the spire. The pebbles and dirt beneath him cut like razors with Logan‟s weight upon him. But he had achieved what he wanted. He grabbed the horn. Then, without delay, he wheeled his hand around, ignoring the red dust that rose up with his arm to cover his face. He held the spire like a dagger, for he planned to use it as one. He closed his eyes tight as he performed this action. Blake wished there could have been a better way, but he knew there wasn‟t. He sunk the horn deep into Logan‟s thigh. The force of the strike stopped once it hit his brother‟s bone. Logan screamed out, his voice hoarse with pain and he jumped off Blake immediately. The horn embedded in Logan‟s flesh caused bright red blood to run down his leg like a river. The sight sickened Blake to the pit of his stomach. But Blake knew it was out of necessity. If Logan had ejaculated

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Unicorn’s Peril inside him he would be Aidenock‟s pawn, be his puppet just as Logan was, to do with as he pleased. Before Logan could pull the horn from his leg, Blake scrambled to his feet as best he could considering his ankles were tangled in his cloths. The only thing he could think of, the only thing he could do was to use himself as a battering ram against his possessed brother. Blake charged at Logan. He crashed into him with all his might, with all the energy he could muster. Logan was sent to the dusty ground with a thud, caught unawares. Blake remained standing. He didn‟t even move to pull up his shorts, but wanted to wait and see what Aidenock‟s next move would be through his pawn. Minutes passed. Blake just stood there and watched. The warm easterly breeze surrounded his dusty, blood streaked body, a small comfort in a way. More minutes passed and he continued to watch and wait for Logan to come at him again. What would he do to continue Aidenock‟s work? Logan didn‟t get up. “If I want someone inside me, it will be by my own choice,” Blake screamed to no one in particular. He spat dirt and blood from his mouth. “I will get you, Aidenock. Even if it is the last thing I do.” But the words wouldn‟t have made it to Aidenock. Logan had hit his head on a rock in the fall. He was unconscious, sprawled out near the bushes that hid the horn. Logan‟s body was marred by not only cuts and scrapes, but also with his seed. The sight of a single ribbon of sperm across his brother‟s stomach sickened Blake. It was then Blake realised how close he had come to being a mindless puppet, how close he‟d come to being raped by his brother. He shuddered. His skin, even in the heat of the afternoon, prickled with gooseflesh at those thoughts. Blake couldn‟t move. He stood there for a long time. Just stood and stared at his brother. Finally, after he had dressed, his clothes ripped and dirty, he went to him. He decided to carry his brother to the Waters of Truth. If anyone would know how to break the familiar‟s bond it would be Ferran and Savannah. Blake sighed as he picked up his brother. He had failed Logan and the weight of his failure pressed down upon him. The clench in his stomach tightened as he thought about what his brother was about to do under the unicorn‟s influence. Aidenock was truly powerful, too much for him to combat alone. He didn‟t want to lose Logan like he had Josh. What other failures would haunt him before the day was done?

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Mark Alders “You are safe now, Loges. I will make sure of it, even with my dying breath.”

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Twenty-Eight

F

erran slid off Savannah for the second time. Their bodies heated from their exertion. Their love for one another burned as intensely as their muscles did after they had coupled once more. Their feelings for each other, their emotions and their bond, were as integral as their fluids that mingled and as rich as the blood that coursed through their satiated bodies. They were deep in the Waters of Truth, near the centre of the pool when Ferran removed himself from her. The water lapped below their equine bellies and it suddenly seemed warm. The spring‟s normally clear water had turned cloudy, like ammonia had leached into the water and had seeped from within the sand underneath their hooves. Then the water scalded their flesh. Ferran pulled Savannah from the hissing water. The pool boiled white and had an acrid smell that burned their nostrils and stuck to their skin. It was like the stench had emulsified on contact with their flesh. Both screamed out in both pain and confusion, caught by the sudden change in the once tranquil, healing water. At the shore, their equine legs welted and blistered red from the poisoned water, they were confronted by twelve unicorns. The unicorn‟s spires glowed intense, like beacons of warning. The twelve had surrounded the shore of the Waters of Truth and formed a cordon around Ferran and Savannah. The Elder council responsible for changing the water, their magic had added the pollution that made the water burn. How dare you desecrate the sacred Waters of Truth, centaurs, one of the unicorns said. He stepped forward. His spire glowed the brightest and his front hoof slapped the ground as he mind-spoke. Especially in the manner

with which you have done so. We are appalled, disgusted even. You shall be punished for your impudence.

Ferran stepped in front of Savannah to use himself as a barrier. His muscles twitched and his tendons pounded within his flesh, ready for whatever the unicorns would deliver. He was between the Elder council and

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Mark Alders his wife, open to their attack. “You will have to go through me first,” Ferran said with defiance.

Do you think your pathetic physical form can withstand us? “Do what you must, unicorn,” Ferran spat. “But I will protect my wife with

my very life. So long as I have blood in my veins and a breath in my lungs, she will remain unharmed.” Then what? The spires of the unicorns flickered on and off, an unheard communication between them. The Waters of Truth hissed and leaped even more violently behind the centaurs. The one that spoke stepped even closer, so close Ferran could smell him over the stench of the water. Once you have

been struck from this Earth, what would stop us from taking away your wife, to do with as we pleased? Your logic is flawed, driven by brawn not brain.

“Then what would you have me do? Speak! State your business. I grow weary of this dance.” Ferran also stepped closer, his body within millimetres of the unicorn. There was an unnatural silence that pervaded the grove. Only the flicker of the unicorn spires could be seen as they deliberated amongst one another. Who or what is your familiar, centaur? the speaker of the Elder council said after he had acknowledged his brethrens unspoken communication. “What does it matter?” Again more flicks of light from the spires. Because if we smite you, make

you fit for the dingoes, it would interest us to know who else we will be removing from their mortal coil.

The words the unicorn spoke sent shivers down to the pit of Ferran‟s soul. He pressed his body against Savannah, ready to bear any attack, to absorb any magic cast. Ferran swallowed hard. He was not afraid to die. Rather, his concern was for his wife and the Keeper‟s eldest son. “I have the Keeper‟s son as my anchor.” Ferran didn‟t remove his stare from the unicorn, not wanting to give away that Savannah was joined to him as a familiar also. The bond between them was special and one the unicorns could not understand. Only ones that loved as deep as Ferran and Savannah would know of such things. The Elder council, even though named after endearing terms—Truth, Understanding, Sympathy, Compassion, Empathy, Kindness, Benevolence, Generosity, Charity, Hope, Trust, and Gentleness—were far from it.

The keeper‟s son is with Thor and it is Thor who has claimed him. You lie to us, even in your final moment? the speaker said. I am Truth and the voice of the Elder Council for this phase of the Moon. I will surrender that title only

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Unicorn’s Peril when the satellite is new again. You cannot lie to me! “I don‟t lie!” Ferran boomed. “The one that has been given the name of Blake at birth is mine.” There was a flutter of soundless communication between the Elder council, for they had created a magical shield around them. Even the colourful parrots that rested in the trees couldn‟t be heard, their song constructed of muted squawks. The magic that surrounded the council emanated out far beyond them, the reason Ferran supposed for the Waters of Truth turning sour. Even the sky had turned from a beautiful azure to amber. The Elder council‟s magic had spread unnaturally over the clearing to change everything.

We thank you for that information, centaur. The one you speak of is but a mere speck in the grand design of our plans. He is not wanted, nor needed by us. Therefore we can proceed. Understanding, Sympathy, Charity, you may proceed, Truth said. His voice pierced the silence and his words stung Ferran‟s mind. On cue, three of the unicorns stepped forward. Their spires glowed like they were alight, an intense flame atop of their polls. The bright lit horns cast angry shadows down onto their faces, a sight that made them look ghoulish. “Wait!” Savannah screamed. “You should know something before you dispose of us so easily.” The flames subsided to a glow, like that of embers in a dying fire. Truth, without waiting for the Elder council to speak to him, added, Tell

us, centaur female. Tell us what we need to know.

“And when I do, you can kill us then?” Savannah said. She came around Ferran to face the unicorns herself, no longer hidden behind her husband‟s back and his bulk no longer her shield.

You should learn from your wife, centaur. She uses her mind to work for her, not her body. We may grant abstinence from the disposal of our punishment depending on the information you deliver.

Savannah looked at each one in turn. The Elder council stood silent, like white cloaked arbitrators that dispensed their own justice to those beneath them, their law absolute. Deliberately and taking her time to examine each one, she said, “We know where the outcast Aidenock is.” The silence that followed was tangible, able to be felt and touched like it had weight. All of their spires ignited, all at once, and then extinguished just as quick. Off and on, off and on they went. The lights were frantic, like the conversation was heated. Truth reared, his underside, belly and sheath just as brilliant white as the

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Mark Alders rest of his luminous coat. Enough! he screamed. Ferran clasped hold of Savannah‟s hand and looked deep into her eyes. The wanting for her, his need for her, was stronger than ever. She was magnificent in his eyes. If this was their end, then he was glad he was with her.

We have a proposal for you. Do as we say and we will forgive you for treading upon our land. Do not accept, and no matter who you are bound to, we will extinguish the flame of your lives, quickly and without remorse. That is our judgement. Do you accept? Savannah nodded. “We agree.” A gust of wind blew into the clearing. The leaves and dust carried upon it eddied around them and tangled their manes and hair. Their skin became cool to soothe their burned skin. A long moment passed. Not one of the Elder council moved a muscle, for they now spoke amongst one another, leaving Ferran and Savannah to only guess as to what would happen next. The wait was unbearable. Our plans have been altered, Truth said. His voice now subdued, the words had returned to that which held a pleasant melody. One of you must

accept our magic, for we know that of the two humans that come to these waters, one is Aidenock‟s. We can smell him now that the wind is coming from the west. The unicorn spoke the truth, the wind had indeed changed. It rolled off the sea to cool the land, a far cry from the easterly off the desert. The afternoon salvation had arrived at the farm earlier than most other days and Ferran noticed the smell of the outcast was indeed mingled within that breeze. “What is it you propose, unicorn?” Ferran said. He placed his hands upon his human waist, his brow furrowed.

One of you will be infused with our power, the purpose to speak with the one Aidenock has claimed, to turn him away from the outcast while learning of his condition. Aidenock is powerful and any knowledge is important before we collect her. “You will not touch Savannah.”

Then you shall be the one. Choose the method you wish us to use upon you, Truth said. Our power, once inside you, will be great but fleeting. You will not have long to accomplish what we ask of you. “Why can‟t you do it?”

Because if you don‟t your life will be forfeit. That is all you need to know, centaur. Now, choose the method, or we will choose it for you. “I will not have any beast, especially a unicorn, inside me like I were a female. To be mounted or caressed as one,” Ferran said with a tone of voice

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Unicorn’s Peril that mocked, his lips peeled back to a sneer. “I choose blood, but give me your reason. Otherwise we will die with honour by your hand just as you first intended.” Blood it is, Truth replied. And the reason is simple. Aidenock‟s familiar is

his eyes and ears. If we are seen he will know we are upon him. We cannot have that knowledge passed on…not yet.

Ferran nodded his head. “The reason makes sense to me. I am ready. Now do what you must quickly before I change my mind.” Another unicorn came close. Ferran did not know his name, but he bowed before them. Then in a blink of an eye, Truth thrust his spire into his comrade‟s leg. The unicorn that received Truth‟s horn within him didn‟t even flinch as the spire delved deep into his flesh. Moments later, Truth withdrew his spire. His horn, poll and head were covered in bright red unicorn blood and it dripped off the twists in the spire and the wound he had just inflicted upon his council brother. Ferran took a step forward. He knew full well what was to happen, what he was to expect next and he sucked in his human chest. He was as ready as he ever would be for the transmission of the Elder council‟s magic into his being. Truth lowered his head, his spire now parallel with the ground, ready to be thrust into Ferran‟s flesh. A split second later, the unicorn charged. Truth‟s horn plunged into Ferran‟s equine shoulder, the spire bright red, for it illuminated the blood upon it before it met with the darkness inside the centaur. Ferran winced, his face twisted with pain. He took the brunt of the savage sting himself, not letting either Savannah or Blake feel the horn within them. He didn‟t want to scream out, to show any weakness to these unicorns as the horn ripped his flesh and tore at his muscle. Deeper and deeper it was plunged into his being. He wanted to show them he was capable of the task they had set out for him, for he would do anything, endure any hurt, to make sure his Savannah was safe. The unicorn kept the horn within him to give the blood a chance to disperse their power, to imbue Ferran properly with their magic. Ferran gasped and then felt queasy. The landscape before him spun and the ground beneath his hooves seemed to move to put him off balance. He clenched both his stomachs in reaction to the pain and magic that coursed through his bulk. A shudder ran his length to finish off the sensation. Truth withdrew the spire and blood poured out from the wound. But the deed had been done. The blood had mingled. Ferran now had the power of

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Mark Alders the Elder council within him.

Do not get any ideas, centaur, Truth said as he went to the shore of the waters that were named after him. You may have our power, but believe me,

you will not be able to fully grasp its potential before your body dissipates it. With each passing of your fluids the magic within you will get weaker. Do not cry too much, centaur. The unicorn then seemed to laugh, his spire flickering like Christmas tree lights. It was then that Ferran‟s vision returned to normal. He looked around, only to see the world through eyes touched by Elder council magic. He could see inside animals, birds and beasts. He could reach out and touch them with his mind, talk to them if he so pleased. He was in awe of their magic, of the power they possessed. The power now within him. Speak to us with your mind, centaur, Truth said. Ferran only knew he had done so by the glow of the unicorn‟s horn. The voice was different in his mind somehow, like a memory more than anything and like something he had always had, yet needed to unlock before he could make sense of it. Ferran looked upon the unicorn. Your magic is truly powerful.

And do not forget it.

The one that had been injured went into the Waters of Truth, the spring back to its former glory. The water was crystal clear and beautiful once more. The unicorn sunk himself deep into the water and the wound closed over.

Heal yourself, then get to work. The familiar of the outcast approaches and your time is short.

There was a flash, like lightning had struck the Earth by their hooves. Ferran shielded his eyes, only to find that when his vision returned and he had lost the scintillating sparkle created by the blast of light that danced before his eyes, that the Elder council were gone. “Do you think we did the right thing, Savannah?” Ferran said. He led her to the cool water. The lap at their hooves soothed straight away and was welcome against their burned flesh. “I think you were perfect, my husband.”

I just hope we can do as they say and break the familiar‟s bond Aidenock has created before the power is spent.

“You spoke into my mind just as a unicorn can.” The gleam in her eye and the lilt to her voice reflected her hope. “You will be able to do as they say without question.” There was a click of a twig and Savannah and Ferran turned to the source of the distraction. What they saw confirmed what the Elder council had told them. Blake approached and the man looked nothing short of exhausted. He

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Unicorn’s Peril was covered in cuts, dirt, dust, and streaks of dried blood. In his arms he held his unconscious brother. “Help me.” Blake said with a rattle in his voice and a gasp before he collapsed onto the ground, his brother the cushion upon which he fell. Ferran galloped to him.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Twenty-Nine

J

ack‟s skin felt clammy and he rubbed his arms to try and rid himself of the feeling. The air closed in around him, the smell of eucalyptus dry and strong within his nostrils. The trees loomed close to the edge of the narrow path they walked upon, a trail that was only wide enough so he could walk by the beast‟s side. They were close to each other. Keallan held his hand up, a signal for Jack to stop and be silent. “We are deep in unicorn territory now, Keeper. It would pay to be vigilant.” The eucalyptus forest they travelled through had grown thick and tangled. Branches had fallen, re-grown and twisted with age upon the ancient trees that surrounded them. The afternoon light barely made an impression and struggled to pierce the canopy. The path they followed illuminated just enough to see its course. “I haven‟t seen this part of the farm before,” Jack whispered. He came alongside Keallan so he could see the beast‟s face. The beast glared, but Jack ignored him. “Well it‟s true. I haven‟t.” “Shut the fuck up, will you?” Keallan hissed. His beady eyes bulged like they would fall from their sockets, his malformed lips formed a slathering scorn. “I fear we will be discovered if we aren‟t careful. At the moment we sound like two ewes giving birth. Our enemy will know where we are at this rate.” But as Keallan spoke, his voice softened. Jack turned to him. “What are you getting at?” he said, as quiet as the breeze that caressed and moved the canopy above. Keallan nodded and relaxed his sneer. “I sense that Thor is close. I can smell his mark upon the ground. He‟s been here and not too long ago either. His stench burns my nose with its freshness.” The path divided and one branch snaked deeper into the forest. The other went down the hill to emerge where the golden fields of the farm met unicorn territory. “Let me guess,” Jack added, quieter than before. “The path into the forest is the one we have to travel?”

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Unicorn’s Peril The beast nodded again. “Thor has gone deep into the sanctuary of unicorn land. Where he is, the boy will be as well.” This time it was Jack‟s turn to glare. “The boy is my son. He has a name, mate.” “Touchy, aren‟t we? Fine, be like that. It will make no difference. Josh cannot be saved. He is too young to break the bond by will. Thor will kill him once he has served his purpose. You knew that, didn‟t you?” “Then if it‟s hopeless, why do you come with me?” “For the laughs,” Keallan retorted, but his voice didn‟t reflect the intention of his words. Jack didn‟t reply. He didn‟t want to add anything more to the conversation. He knew full well the reason why Keallan walked with him. The beast was his mate. Mates didn‟t need an excuse to be with one another. Even in the face of death they stuck by each other. The hard times made the friendship the strongest and made the happy times more memorable. Jack remembered the stories his grandfather once told him, how he spoke about his time at Gallipoli and the heart wrenching tales of the trials they endured. Mateship got them through. It made the hell liveable and the bond created could never be broken. Not even through death, so long as the memory remained. Jack recalled how he would sit upon his grandfather‟s knee when he was but a child, no more than ten, and listen to the man speak fondly of his mates. He would never tell of the actual war itself, only of his friends. The laughter in his grandfather‟s eyes was the most striking while he remembered his mates in great detail, one by one. Keallan was like that, a mate. And even though they were far from the horrors of the Great War, the short moments he had spent with the beast had made him realise that time was unimportant. It was what one did in the time given that mattered. How one acted toward others, and how things came to be in that time. That was important. Jack patted Keallan on his equine back. The understanding between them needed no further explanation. They proceeded onwards. Keallan smiled in response. He looked at Jack, and said, “I do love you, you bastard. You know that, don‟t you?” Jack kept his hand upon Keallan. “Same here, mate. I love you, too.” They went up the path that led deeper into the forest. The path that glowed red, refracted light off the dirt, created the eerie effect upon their eyes. They walked together, to face whatever challenge lay ahead. For good or bad they

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Mark Alders pressed on in the murkiness, not a bird or beast to be seen. They were alone. After a long trudge through the gloomy forest, a clearing came into view. Ahead of them the path softened to form a border around the glade that beckoned them to enter. A soft, cool breeze blew upon their faces, a wind that seemed unnatural and magical at the same time. Jack‟s skin crawled in reaction to the waft of air that touched him from the glade. Keallan stopped. His nostrils flared and he sucked in great volumes of the eucalyptus soaked air. “Thor,” he said slow and quiet. “At least we are upwind. He may not know we have come to this place. Keep an eye out for Thor‟s spies.” “Right-o. What then?” Jack looked around. Besides the trunks of the trees, ghostly white in the low light, the leaf litter thick upon the forest floor, and the occasional scrub bush, there wasn‟t much in the way of cover close by. Not even a rock wallaby could hide here, let alone a grown man and his unitaur friend. Although, in the distance and to their left a large outcrop of boulders was visible, a natural structure that created the foundation for the waterfall that drained into the sparkling pool below. The rocks would also provide perfect cover, for not only could they see Thor and Josh at the water‟s edge, there were also twelve other unicorns present. The unicorns stood in a circle to form a cordon around the unicorn and his familiar, to shimmer around them like white prison bars. It seemed to be that Thor and the unicorns were in the middle of a discussion, their expressions and gestures indicating so. Jack couldn‟t fathom what they said, for the air around them didn‟t carry sound. “Shit. The fucking Elder council are here.” Keallan squeaked, his voice reflecting his anxiety. He kicked his hooves across the dust, swished nonexistent flies from his equine back with his tail and darted his gaze between Jack and what was in the grove. “We‟d better hide…for a while. See what opportunity presents itself, Keeper. I may be an ugly mother fucker but I‟m not stupid. I don‟t throw away my life for no bastard if I can help it.” He touched Jack upon his shoulder with gentle pressure. To let him know that everything would be all right, even if he didn‟t believe it himself. “Agreed.” Just as Jack and Keallan were about to make haste for the rocks, a crow, as black as night, emerged from the shadows and took flight from a branch above their heads. “Fuck me!” Keallan yelped. But all too late.

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Unicorn’s Peril A flash of light blinded them. Accompanied with that flare was an ear piercing screech that made Jack‟s ears bleed. The noise and light was all around them. It engulfed them, inebriated them with its intensity and made the earth beneath their feet give way so that they danced uncontrollably in mid-air. Jack‟s mouth was unable to utter a sound, even though he screamed until his lungs became thin. His voice joined the crow in its macabre silence. The blood that coursed unheeded through his veins quickened until his skin couldn‟t contain it. Spider veins burst forth to mar Jack‟s flesh. His tear ducts leaked until his vision turned red. Time was now irrelevant. Jack then knew the end was near. His body, soul and mind were not his to be concerned with, for he was ensnared by the Elder council‟s magic. His mortal coil would soon be free from his burden. He could feel the foreboding future within him. Keallan mouthed more obscenities while Jack clung to him tight. To be alone in an hour of need was not a good way to die. Seconds later, Jack and Keallan found themselves surrounded by the unicorns of the Elder council in solid form. The intensity of the light that had transported them coalesced and created the bodies of the unicorns‟ white coats, hooves, manes, and spires. Everything joined until the light subsided, taking on the shape of each and every one of them. How wonderful. We have acquired sport for the circle of judgement, Truth said, stepping forward so they could all look upon his magnificent being and gasp at him in awe, his spire atop his poll ablaze. Jack did gasp, but in trepidation. His mouth agape as he watched the Elder come forward into the circle created by his brethren. Thor came close to the beast, reared and then directed urine from his half exposed shaft so that he could splash stinking mud onto Keallan‟s hooves as an insult, a signal that he wished to duel the beast.

I am ready for you, Beast. And this time you have nothing to take from me.

Keallan, too, reared in reply to Thor‟s challenge and he pissed on the ground just like his enemy had done. Keallan came down quick, his hooves pounding the ground. He then sidled around Jack to protect his mate as best as he could manage, his equine body curved around him. “Except your life, you fucker,” Keallan spat. Truth, with intense luminosity off his coat, took another step forward. But

this fight will not be fair unless you ask it to be, Thor. The abomination is powerful. We do not want our champion to fall unfairly. “There will be no fighting,” Jack blurted, his voice as brave as he could muster. “Not on my land, anyway.”

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Mark Alders The council stirred. Their hooves pounded the ground, the rhythm of which gained in momentum until it was so loud that the ground rumbled, like beats from a great war drum. Truth‟s spire ignited. We are not on your land, Keeper, Your claim is

forfeit. The judgement has been made. The abomination, our destroyer and Thor, our greatest warrior, will contest each other for our grace. The winner will be free to walk these lands again. The loser will be removed from not only these lands, but from the breath of life. Then make this a fair battle, Thor screamed. I have work to do and the sooner I smite this beast the better. The Elder council all rose up in unison. Their hooves spun, like they were turning imaginary wheels that moved the magic they conjured. Electric sparks cracked the air, like lightning over dry wheat fields. Everything sizzled. Again a bright light was produced, but this time, instead of being part of the air around them, it was concentrated upon one being, one creature. They had directed their power upon Thor. The master of the unicorns was now imbued with the Elder council‟s power. When the light subsided, drained from existence, Jack could see Thor had been returned to his former glory. His spire, silver like platinum, was once more atop his head and beautiful. His coat, mane, hooves, and tail were all back to what they were before the beast desecrated his body. Before he had fallen. Before he was touched by the beast‟s anger. Thor stood proud, chest out. He then screamed, and the air vibrated with his joy. Now it is fair! And now I will finish what I have been meaning to for

such a long time. Then all is ready. May judgement begin, Truth said.

The Elder council stepped back. They turned so they were head to hindquarters. Their spires touched one another‟s rumps. The brilliant, white light returned, spread out around them to blur their bodies, so much so they became one. They had merged. The unicorns formed a barrier around Jack, Keallan, Thor, and Josh. The judgement circle of the Elder council was ready to dispense its justice. The battle between Thor and Keallan would determine the outcome of that justice. **** Jack hadn‟t closed his mouth. The sight of what had transpired shocked him, jarred his mind. He had never seen such a thing as this kind of magic being

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Unicorn’s Peril performed. The Elder council had to be witnessed to be believed. Their power was strong and the air rippled around him so that it battered him as they transformed into the wall of light. All Jack could do was look upon his son with regret. To ponder what could have happened if he had been a man and told Josh, Blake and Logan the truth long ago. To look at the unicorns of the Elder council filled him with dread. Josh was silent and didn‟t move. The boy stood and stared with blank, distant eyes, a sight that filled Jack with dread. His son was possessed. Josh was behind the magnificent creature that was Thor. The unicorn‟s coat shimmered and sparkled and reflected the light off the wall that was now the Elder council. It illuminated Josh unnaturally, like light from a fluorescent tube. Then a noise, one that splintered the air as it ripped past the sound barrier, just like a whip had been lashed, boomed. Truth emerged from the wall, like an amoeba that consisted of pure energy divided and separated from itself. Jack turned to witness Truth‟s birth. The light of the Elder council then extended out from the wall when Truth came to being, to cover the ground beneath Jack‟s boots, like a noxious weed. The rules of the familiar do not apply now, Truth said, his voice deep and stern, but with a calmness that sounded sinister. All in the circle of judgement

are bound by no laws other than the laws of this council. Those within the circle must compete, for that is our only rule.

Jack flicked his gaze back to Josh. His son‟s face had darkened and a smile tightened his lips and revealed his milky white eye teeth. He couldn‟t hear Keallan, for the magic of the Elder circle still absorbed all sound. But he could see the beast‟s mouth move as he spoke, probably obscenities. Jack‟s stomach clenched. Then, like some unspoken command had been signalled, Thor charged, his spire alight like a flaming sword. He was hungry for revenge, that much was clear, the beast was his target. Jack didn‟t have time to see what happened next, for Josh had fallen upon him, bowled him over and forced him to hit the ground of light with a dull thud. Now upon him proper, his son‟s hand‟s tightened around Jack‟s neck so that his gasps for air became more and more arduous. The look in Josh‟s eyes was one of a boy not in his own mind, his stare distant. Josh‟s strength was phenomenal, like it came from a man twice his age. His fingers crushed against Jack‟s windpipe and he couldn‟t even scream. Then again, even if Jack could, who would hear? Sound was foreign while

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Mark Alders within the circle of judgement. Into Jack‟s mind, Josh said, with venom and distain that sent shivers down Jack‟s spine, I‟m going to kill you, Father.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Thirty

B

lake had no choice but to let Ferran take Logan. He was so exhausted after his ordeal to even lift himself, let alone another. “What happened?” Ferran said. “Long story. Let‟s just say Aidenock‟s reach is long.” “I think you should remove the horn from within your brother‟s leg before we place him into the Waters of Truth.” Ferran picked up Logan with ease from the ground. Savannah came to them. Blake took a moment to pause, to regain his composure and strength, before he followed Ferran to the water. He dusted off his clothes, the dirt from him now a fine cloud left to settle onto the ground from where it came. “Logan should be restrained,” Savannah said. “If the bond is as strong as I believe, he may become violent.” Blake coughed. Dust had caught in his throat, making him hack like a cat trying to relieve itself of a fur ball. “You can say that again. Logan…he tried to fill me with Aidenock‟s magic in a way that—well, you can see it on his stomach, can‟t you?” Blake‟s face screwed up and not for the first time today. He felt queasy when he spoke those last words, remembering the events of a few moments ago. “Yes, semen is one of the most potent means with which to transfer magic into another,” Ferran said, unperturbed. “And you are correct. The stench of the unicorn has seeped deep into your brother‟s flesh. He‟s been pickled in it, soaked in his power, over and over.” Blake thought for a moment. “How can we restrain him?” “I will keep hold of him while we attempt to break his mind of Aidenock‟s influence,” Ferran replied. Blake withdrew the spire from Logan. His brother‟s blood gushed from the wound to spill over Ferran‟s legs and darken the dirt beneath them. Ferran went into the Waters of Truth without delay. Savannah and Blake followed, only to stand at the shore of the spring to watch Logan‟s salvation.

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Mark Alders Ferran immersed the young man into the water, like he was performing a baptism. Logan‟s blood seeped from his leg to cloud the clear water around their bodies but the wound sealed in an instant when the fluid of the spring came in contact with his skin. Blake sighed in relief. Ferran said, “He will need further treatments within the waters. The wound was deep. I think—” Ferran was cut off, for Logan‟s eyes flicked open. The voice of Aidenock then rang out from the man‟s mouth. “Well, well, pleased to see you, Ferran. I also see you are in good health. How‟s Savannah?” Logan craned his neck. “Oh, she‟s fine too.” Logan then sniffed the air. “I notice she has your smell upon her. In fact, you are both rife with the stench of intercourse. You missed out, Ferran. I could have made your life perfect. My power, your muscle. We would have been such a team. Pity. Instead I had to settle for your brother Beaudan.” “Silence, you bastard. Your influence and your power is poison. But soon it will no longer matter, for your familiar will be saved from you, just like my brother was saved even though he now pays the price for your magic and you walk upon the Earth unjudged.” Ferran closed his eyes. What happened next Blake could not fathom. Ferran, the centaur that held his brother within his arms over the Waters of Truth, began to glow. It was like his coat, normally a deep auburn, was of unicorn design. Ferran shone like a beckon, a lamp of a lighthouse within the Waters of Truth. Savannah touched Blake upon his shoulder. “Ferran has received a gift from the Elder council of unicorns. A deal we made while you were gone, Blake.” “A deal with unicorns?” She sighed. “I‟m afraid so.” “Let‟s hope it‟s worth it,” Blake said. He didn‟t look at her, but kept his gaze fixed on Logan. Blake‟s mouth was so dry he had to chew on his tongue and swallow hard the saliva produced to moisten his throat. Logan screamed. Then, in his own voice, he gurgled and gasped for air like a baby fresh from the womb. To Blake he sounded frightened and alone. That thought made him run to him, without thought of consequence and without hesitation upon his mind. Blake crashed through the spring to be with his brother. The water erupted around him as he broke its tension with such force the fluid splashed

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Unicorn’s Peril high into the air and drenched Ferran and Logan as he approached. But Blake didn‟t care. Logan was alive once more in his own body, finally awakened from Aidenock‟s curse. As he came to them, Blake could hear his brother speak. His brother‟s words were garbled, but in a strange way he sounded like he was replying to whatever it was Ferran was saying to him. Blake couldn‟t hear Ferran speak. Blake assumed the centaur must be mind speaking, like the unicorns do. The concentration upon Ferran‟s face revealed that it was no easy task for him to do so. Blake touched his hand upon Logan‟s forehead. His brother turned to him. With a voice that sounded like it came from the bottom of a pit, Logan said “I need your help, Blake. Where are you? I need you. I need you. Help me.” “I‟m-I‟m right here, Loges,” Blake replied. His hand shook while he smoothed his brother‟s wet forehead. “Come closer. I can‟t see you. I can‟t see you. I‟m blinded. Help me…” Logan‟s voice trailed off and he squirmed under the weight of Blake‟s hand upon him. Blake‟s stomach clenched. To see his brother so desperate and helpless wounded him far deeper than any spire thrust into flesh could ever do. He came closer, so close Blake cast his shadow over Logan‟s face. He said, “I‟m here, mate. I‟m here for you.” There was a slight breeze that whipped around them, one that sent shivers down Blake‟s back. He looked around, half expecting to see Aidenock at the shore, like that wind had carried him from the stable. But the wind was far worse than that. “Good,” Logan said. His voice had changed. It was sinister, but musical. “I knew you‟d be easily fooled, weak human.” In that instant, before Blake could react, to even recoil away, Logan spat a great globule of saliva into Blake‟s face. The spittle caught him in the eye and his retinal fluid met with Logan‟s saliva, the contact made before he could blink or shield his face from Aidenock‟s infectious power. Savannah gasped. “Are you all right, Blake?” Blake wiped his cheek, but the delivery from his brother had already begun to do its damage. Blake could feel Aidenock‟s power course through his body, ingratiate itself into his being. His mind went cloudy and his head swayed. The ground, the water and the sky, all took turns to wheel around one another. Blake felt lost and his thoughts became weaker as the unicorn‟s

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Mark Alders magic filled him, spreading through his body unheeded. He stumbled. Savannah acted and caught him before he fell into the Waters of Truth. “Blake!” Blake, folded into the centaur‟s arms, looked up to her. His mind was clear all of a sudden and his vision had returned to normal. “Why, Savannah, I‟m just fine,” Aidenock said through him. He could hear himself say the words, gathered the meaning. But he wasn‟t in control, more a spectator in his own mind. **** Keallan staggered back to dodge a swipe from Thor. The unicorn‟s horn missed his human chest by millimetres. The beast‟s skin and coat were already marred by lines of blood. Close calls. If a little deeper, they would have been life threatening. Most of them were across his human chest, Thor‟s target. But Thor was a perfect marksman and stronger than before. The unicorn lunged once more. Keallan didn‟t have enough time to regain his composure and he had no choice but to stagger back. His rump touched the wall that was the circle of judgement. A jolt, like electricity, coursed through his body once he connected with the light. And even though he opened his mouth to scream and swear, no sound prevailed. The sting of power from the wall made Keallan‟s hind legs buckle, like he‟d been branded. The shock of it caused him intense pain, so violent he shuddered uncontrollably. Keallan stumbled backwards. **** Jack‟s chest began to feel tight. His body, every cell within him, his mind included, screamed out for oxygen. None came. His son saw to it that he would never receive anymore. Not in this lifetime anyway. Josh‟s face was intense with hatred and he pressed his hands harder and harder around Jack‟s neck. A dark shape came over Jack. Is this the end? His feet and arms flailed wildly to accelerate the deprivation of air and the effect it had on his body. He began to feel weak, his life force ebbed away. Jack‟s limbs and back slapped against the ground of light as he tried,

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Unicorn’s Peril without success, to throw Josh off himself. The darkness came closer and closer, so close Jack could swear it was real and not a figment of his imagination, nor a sign of his death. The shape was Keallan. The beast crashed into Josh. The boy, struck by the unitaur, reeled off Jack. Keallan had succeeded where Jack had failed. Where Josh had been thrown to he didn‟t care, so long as he could breathe the sweet air once more. Jack got up. He coughed, unable to grasp any hold upon reality while his body tried to gain the precious air it needed. He rubbed his hands over his neck only to feel where his son had constricted his throat with a strength that was most certainly acquired from the unicorns of the Elder council. Then sound could be heard. Jack looked up through watery eyes, confused as to what had transpired, only to see Josh bathed in a bright white light. “How dare you stop me from my kill,” Josh said, his voice deep and with a resonance that vibrated and pulsed the air within the circle of judgement. But Jack saw that it was not Keallan he was speaking to. It was Thor. What are you talking about, familiar? Thor roared. He reared up in front of the boy. “I was scared once. But no more, Thor. You are a weak unicorn, unable to even get rid of the abomination. A simple task too much for you.” Josh closed his eyes. The unicorn light from the Elder council came to surround the boy. To Jack it looked like his son had an aureole circling him, making him look like he was a biblical figure. The light extended out even more, bleeding from the lad to surround him completely. Do not speak to me like that. Know your place. You are nothing without me. Besides, I have work to do before I can put into place my plans, Thor replied with a snort. “That is where you are wrong. I am everything without you,” Josh said. He held out his arms, his palms to the heavens. “I am the Elder council‟s conduit now, for I have been made a better offer. You have been surpassed, Thor. I am your slave no more. And the abomination does not concern us. Your plans do not concern us. We have better things to worry about, things the likes of you could not possibly understand.” The light around Josh intensified until it matched the luminosity of the wall of the Elder council.

You lie! Do not fool with me. Supplicate before me. I am Thor, and I have a duty to finish this fight with the beast. He came down and his hooves pounded the ground of light so that it trembled.

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Mark Alders With a movement of his hand, like he conducted an orchestra, Josh directed the light around him outwards, Thor his intended target. When the light touched the unicorn he was pushed away, knocked like a house of cards against a gust of angry breath. Thor was thrust upon Keallan with a brutality that was definitely unnatural and certainly magical. Jack couldn‟t help but stare at his son. He couldn‟t help but see him as a twelve year old boy, but a boy that had mastered powers only reserved for creatures born to magic. Josh‟s face was bright and his eyes twinkled, the happiness upon him evident. He was a magical being, the gift of the Elder council gave him new purpose. Keallan screamed as Thor slammed into him. The light from the boy, an extension, a solid force equal to that of a sledge hammer, punched Thor and Keallan backwards. No matter how much they struggled, for Jack could see them writhe and thrash about against the light, their combined strength eventually became insufficient. They succumbed to the boy‟s new found power. Thor managed to tear himself away from Keallan, but was blown in an opposite direction to the beast. Unfortunately, Keallan, having nowhere to go, no handhold or support to grasp onto, came down upon Jack. Jack bore the full brunt of Keallan‟s weight and he gasped with shallow breaths once the beast was upon him, the dark hide of Keallan‟s equine body his only view. Jack could feel numbness overcome him, engulf him like the light from his son had engulfed Keallan and Thor. Darkness engulfed Jack. **** Keallan knew he had fallen on the Keeper. Before he could get up he witnessed the Elder council reform into twelve unicorns. Truth stepped forward. The justice of the circle has been dispensed. The

boy we chose for our own purpose has acknowledged his place. We will leave you now, for your purpose we have now foreseen.

Josh went to Keallan. “I will return, Beast. And when I do I will kill you just as easily as I have killed my dear sweet father.” A boyish smile had formed upon his lips when he spoke those words. His expression, even though childlike, made him look menacing.

Remember, abomination. Once your purpose has been fulfilled, we will

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Unicorn’s Peril return. Then the circle of judgement will once more be called upon. Do you understand? “Get stuffed, you fucker!” But there was no reply to Keallan‟s acid retort. The Elder council and the boy disappeared in a flash of light. The effect of their departure made Keallan‟s eyes scintillate so that even when gone he could still see their shapes inside closed eyelids. Thor remained. Keallan jumped off Jack, the Keeper‟s body twisted awkward where he lay. “Jack, talk to me.” Keallan knelt down next to his friend, took him by the hand and patted it with gentle care. Jack gasped. Blood had trickled from the corner of his mouth and his face was gaunt. “Keallan?” “Who else, you bastard? Now get up. You‟ll be right, mate.” “Right-o,” Jack said. He then let out a shallow wheeze. “I don‟t think I can, Keallan.” “Nonsense. You can do it,” Keallan blurted, but his voice reflected how he really felt, for it faltered. “I‟ll…I‟ll help you up, mate.” “Leave me…” Keallan looked into Jack‟s eyes. “Fuck off. I‟m not leaving you.” Jack‟s eyes were that of glass. “Goodbye…” Keallan couldn‟t help himself and he came down close to Jack, his head upon his chest. “You can‟t die. I will carry you to the Waters of Truth. Just hold on.” “Okay…I‟ll try,” Jack added with a smile so weak it quivered across his lips. “Don‟t die, Mate. Don‟t die,” Keallan said, unable to help himself. His voice cracked and tears rolled down his cheeks to drip upon Jack‟s shirt. “I don‟t want to be alone.” Keallan then turned so that his human torso was twisted around. He set his eyes upon Thor. “Come here and help me, you fucker.”

Why should I help you, Beast?

“Because if he dies, you die. Get me?”

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Mark Alders

Chapter Thirty-One

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avannah, with her arms wrapped tight around Blake, kept hold of him as she pushed him down into the Waters of Truth. His head submerged as she bore her weight down upon him. Blake thrashed, his scream muffled by the flow of the water into his mouth. His legs and arms whipped the water so that it foamed. But Savannah, no matter how much he kicked, punched and bit her arms, didn‟t let go. She didn‟t ease the pressure she placed upon him, not for a second. “I must get rid of Aidenock within you, Blake,” she said, her voice strained and weighted with anxiety. “This is the only way. I‟m so, so sorry.” Slowly, Blake‟s limbs eased their desperate thrash and flail of retaliation. His fight for his life ended. Unable to breath, to take in oxygen, his mouth began to draw in water, his lungs and stomach full of the fluid of the spring. Then all went still and silent. Savannah kept Blake within the Waters of truth a few moments longer, as long as she dared really. She had to make sure he had passed on. A few final bubbles rose up out of Blake‟s nostrils and they wobbled in the water when they journeyed away from him. The final ebb of his life left with them, his body a limp weight in her arms. Blake was dead. ****

You must let go of the one that binds you and controls you. You are your own man, Logan. You are the son of the Keeper. I will not let you fall into darkness. You do not want me to kill you, for I will if left with no other option, Ferran said. The young man in his arms didn‟t even look at him. The centaur scowled. His efforts so far proved useless. Ferran followed Logan‟s gaze. What he saw didn‟t please him, but filled him with dread. He could see Savannah deep within the water, holding Blake underneath its surface. She was taking his life in the hope Aidenock‟s hold

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Unicorn’s Peril upon him could be broken.

Do you want me to do the same to you? Then respond, Logan. Listen to me. Ferran then licked Logan‟s forehead. Energy from the Elder council sparked from his long tongue directly into the man‟s skin. Logan turned his head and his body quivered, whether from the coolness of the water or Ferran‟s transfer of magic, he couldn‟t tell. Logan‟s deep blue eyes were now intent and he looked to Ferran with scorn. “I‟m not just Logan and no matter what you do you cannot break my bond. Besides, he and I are too powerful. You cannot kill him. You know that. Blake was weak, not receptive enough to take in my gift. You did me a favour by killing his brother. But Logan, Logan my sweet, is strong. He will be mine forever.” Ferran turned his body in an attempt to shield Logan‟s eyes from what was happening, from what Savannah was doing. The Waters of Truth rippled around him as he did so but quickly calmed when he came to a halt. His bulk obscured the view of the pool. He was pleased that Aidenock would see no more, not be able to fathom what Savannah would do next to Blake. If she did, their plans would be for nothing and a precious life would have been wasted. He knew what Savannah was doing and he couldn‟t let the unicorn bastard see that. But Aidenock did speak the truth. Logan was strong. But he was only strong because of him, because he was filled, soaked so deeply with his power, that the man was no longer mortal. Unlike Blake, who had been given a small dose, Logan would prove more difficult to free. Ferran knew that he couldn‟t kill Logan. The man‟s essence, his soul, belonged to Aidenock. To rid the Earth of his body would prove fruitless, for he still owned him. Logan would just keep coming back so long as Aidenock‟s hold was fixed, so long as he was his familiar. Really, Logan could only be free from him if he willed it and Ferran was going to give the man the best chance he could. Again Ferran spoke into the man‟s mind. Again he tried to coerce some sort of reaction out of Logan that was not Aidenock and again he licked the man‟s skin. Charges of power seeped into Logan, but the man kept up his taunts. Unfortunately, he still spoke with Aidenock‟s voice. Ferran sighed. The task would indeed be long. **** Thor snorted, then circled the beast bent over the broken body of the Keeper.

That still doesn‟t answer my question. Why should I care what you do? I know

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Mark Alders that you cannot kill me. I am more powerful than you have ever been. “Think again, Thor,” Keallan said. “When the council left they took what they gave you.”

You lie, Beast! You lie!

“I told you once already, I don‟t lie, you fucker. Now, tell me how to get to the Waters of Truth by the quickest means possible.” Thor went to the Waters of Understanding. He ignored the beast that now held the Keeper within his arms. His only concern was with himself. Sure enough, the reflection he was greeted with was hornless, ugly and had a coat as dull as a horse. Only patches of unicorn came through to shine on his coat. Thor wasn‟t healed at all. It was all an illusion, a trick by the Elder council. The bastards! No! No! No! They promised me! Thor yelled. His voice harsh, so harsh it grated and annoyed Keallan. They promised me! “It seems they got what they wanted and left. Perhaps you aren‟t so mighty after all,” Keallan spat and he turned to leave the grove, Jack limp in his arms. The only way he knew to the Waters of Truth was to travel up the path he had come from. The journey would be long.

Wait!

“What for?”

Place the Keeper into the Waters of Understanding, Thor said, his voice melodic and soft upon Keallan‟s mind. His tune had changed. That will halt death. It will give you time anyway. From the look of it, the Keeper‟s moments are short.

“If this is a trick I won‟t even bother pissing on your carcass once I strangle the life from your pathetic body. Get me?” Keallan came to the shore and lowered the Keeper into the water.

No trick. But that is all I offer you. I have others plans. Besides, I do not want the Keeper to die. Aidenock is my first concern. The council is after him, and I am the only unicorn that knows where he is. I must warn him. “Go! Fuck off then. Mount my father if you have to. Enjoy it,” Keallan spat. “For when I come for him, I will kill him. All the better if you are there, too, if you ask me, as you are on my list as well, Thor.” When I am recovered, whole again. I will take you up on that offer. With that Thor bolted from the clearing, dirt and dust kicked up behind him as he rose to a gallop with lightning speed. The crow, one of Thor‟s familiars and spies, took flight as well. He was now alone with the Keeper.

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Unicorn’s Peril “Good riddance, you fucker!” Keallan screamed. Keallan felt the Waters of Understanding swirl by his legs and as he kept Jack within the fluid, the current became stronger and stronger around him. Then, as Thor had said, the Waters of Understanding enveloped Jack, came over his body to form a cocoon around him. The water then ignited to create a blue haze of light around the Keeper. Keallan could only assume that his mate was now preserved in some way, able to be transported to the Waters of Truth safely. Hopefully, the ebb of Jack‟s life force had been stopped by the magic of the water. “I‟ll get you there, Jack. Just hold on, mate.” Keallan pulled Jack out of the water. The cocoon of fluid clung to his mate‟s body, defying gravity, like it had solidified upon him. But he noticed that the water dripped from Jack‟s body, with a slow rhythm. “I would assume I have only as long as the water shields you before you are lost to me.” Jack‟s eyes opened, his face warped underneath the cocoon. No sound came from his mouth, even though Keallan could see it open. “Save your strength. I feel that time is short and I must rush if I am to help you.” Then, driven by the thought of saving his friend, Keallan galloped from the grove, up the path and into the deep forest. Hope sparked within his heart, hope that he would make it in time to the Waters of Truth. **** Savannah pulled Blake up and out of the water. She placed him upon the shore and proceeded to resuscitate him. His skin was a ghostly pallor and his hair plastered wet onto his face. Even his lips were a terrible blue. The Waters of Truth dripped from him. “I‟m sorry,” she whispered into his ear. Savannah turned Blake‟s body so that the water spewed from his mouth to splash upon the red dirt. She had to clear his lungs in readiness for her life giving breath. She began the procedure, placing her lips upon his to form a tight seal once she had positioned his head so that his airway was clear. Methodically and with her forehead rutted in concentration, Savannah breathed her life into Blake. One cycle of breathing and compression complete, she checked his pulse. Nothing. No sign of life. Just his cold skin to remind her of what she had done. He

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Mark Alders was as cold as the Waters of Truth she had murdered him in, as silent as the land around her. His eyes held no sparkle, no thought and they stared up at her with blank expression. Savannah‟s stomach turned. “C‟mon, Blake. Pull through…please.” She repeated another cycle, desperate to draw death from his being, to exorcise the poison Aidenock had infected him with. Savannah worked frantically, for she was no better than the unicorn if she couldn‟t revive him. She would be as guilty of the crimes Aidenock had done since her birth if she failed and pangs of guilt prickled Savannah‟s skin while she worked. She hoped, perhaps futilely, that the young man would recover. She checked his pulse again. Her fingers, pressed upon his neck, shook with anxiety and the small hope within her. Savannah tried to find the beat of life under his flesh, her thoughts nothing but a prayer for this noble human. There was a pulse. The beat of his heart was faint, but enough to warm her soul. Blake was alive. Savannah, elated, sighed with deep relief. The Keeper‟s son would once more walk upon this precious Earth. The colour returned to Blake‟s skin, like the breath of spring had warmed a land once locked in the depths of winter. Blake spluttered and water wrenched from his lungs and stomach, discoloured by the fluids of his body. Blake looked up her. The sparkle in his eyes, the litmus test of his soul, had returned. She felt hot tears roll down her cheeks as she looked upon him, tears that flowed from the joy within her. She had succeeded. “Thank the Lords of the Sky and Earth you are all right, Blake.” Blake coughed and he held his stomach. The voice he spoke with sounded hoarse as he purged more and more fluid from his body. “I was…in a terrible…place, Savannah.” “You are free now. Just don‟t let your brother see you or come near you. No matter what. Aidenock knows what he does, sees what he sees and that has been our folly.” Blake nodded, but heaved some more. Bile joined the water and contents of his stomach on the ground in front of him. “I‟m going to kill that bastard!‟ Blake craned his neck. He still coughed and his stomach shuddered as his muscles quivered uncontrollably, the obvious after effects of his body being shocked back to life. “Where‟s Thor‟s horn?” “I will come with you,” Savannah said. She got up and offered her hand to him. “If you want me to…after what I did.” “Not that I-I agreed…with what you…did. But you did what you had to. I can see that now.” She pulled him up to his feet. “I want you with me…I don‟t

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Unicorn’s Peril know how to do this by myself.” “You forgive me?” Blake came to her and he hugged her. His arms wrapped tight around her human torso. Then, soft as the breath of life that now passed his lips, he said, “Yes.”

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Chapter Thirty-Two

T

he beat of hooves over the ground was so hypnotic and beautiful, so relaxing for the soul that Logan couldn‟t help but be entranced by it. He could see the lands of the farm charge for him, then zip past his vision as quick as it came. Aidenock‟s vision, as he thundered over field and hill, was vivid and strong, magnificent and seductive. He never wanted the experience to end, to always be with him, as free as the wind through his golden mane. Logan stirred and his eye twitched, for he could feel Ferran‟s tongue leave a wet trail across his cheek. Sparks of the Elder council‟s magic jolted into his flesh from the centaur‟s mouth. Then there was a flash of red in his mind. Not red like blood, rather a soft, muted crimson like the colours belonged to an animal‟s hide. Aidenock‟s rhythm ceased, he had halted. Logan couldn‟t see what it was that caused him to stop, made him end their journey, but he suspected the red-coated animals that flashed before his eyes in the vision were more than omens. Logan felt Ferran roll his tongue across his neck. He couldn‟t help but shiver from both powers as they surged through him, vying for supremacy. Logan‟s muscles were taught and every one of them ached as they pulled upon his bones. It was like they were all forced to tighten by the battle of power within him. His body lay as ridged as a board in the centaur‟s arms. Logan groaned, both in pleasure and pain.

Keeper‟s son, you must be free of the unicorn‟s curse. He will use you, keep you from being free. You must let go. His hold upon you is based on lies, Ferran said, his voice calm, controlled and patient. Logan opened his mouth to speak. The muscles in his jaw hurt, too. A garbled word oozed out in his own voice, before Aidenock said, “He is not the Keeper‟s son. You know that, Ferran. He is mine. And I plan to keep him until his death and beyond.” Logan‟s blood, spurred on by the magical conflict he was entangled in, coursed quicker and quicker through him. His heart beat faster. His muscles heated and his cheeks turned red. Even his skin turned warm against the cool

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Unicorn’s Peril water. Then his cock became aroused as the tissues of his penis filled with his blood that raged through his body, so hard and erect that his foreskin slid back easily, lubricated by the water and his excitement. Ferran came down to take Logan‟s erection into his mouth, sucking hard to try and hasten the extraction of Aidenock‟s magic within him. Logan groaned, the sensation of the centaur‟s lips around him made him shudder. Logan saw in his mind that he was surrounded by the red-coated animals. Dingoes, hundreds of them, all circled, teeth gnashing, their lips slathered, hackles up and ears back. Aidenock reared and Logan was flung from his back, the darkened skies his only view. Was this Aidenock‟s death? Logan opened his eyelids. “What…have I…become?” he said, his voice stressed and weak, but his voice nonetheless.

You must know the truth, Logan. You must know that you are part of the Keeper‟s family. You are one of the Keeper‟s sons. All along his length Ferran

worked, the force of his suction making his cock tingle and his stomach quiver with delight. “I am not…his…son,” Logan said with a strain, his voice forced from him as if giving up a secret so long held onto. Looking up at the sky, the clouds, streaks of sun-soaked colour painted across the heavens, moved slow and steady to the east. Carried by the afternoon breeze that cooled the land, they mingled and separated to form bizarre shapes, shapes he imagined were objects, animals and people. Then the clouds went red and the shapes solidified in his vision to form those of the wild dogs that had hunted them. In his mind‟s eye, Logan staggered to his feet, only to see that Aidenock was downed by the dingoes. Blood stained their muzzles. His neigh was a scream that echoed across the field. Aidenock was dead. Logan screamed. He couldn‟t fathom what had happened. But when he staggered to Aidenock, to see if he could help, his mind began to spin. Logan‟s vision blurred, his thoughts as jumbled and as incomprehensible as what he now saw, a turning kaleidoscope of colour. He came back to the moment, realising that he was being pleasured. He moaned, his lips a quiver as he felt Ferran‟s lips move faster and faster along his cock. Logan tried to shut his mind off, to banish the storm that had gathered in his thoughts. Then, from the disarray, coalescing into form, there stood a centaur. It was Ferran. With him was the boy he had seen Blake with. Not only was Ferran sucking him off, he was sharing a vision with him, too. Was he more powerful than Aidenock?

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Mark Alders This is the Keeper‟s son, Ferran said. This is the Keeper‟s son. This is the…” The centaur‟s words went on and on, over and over, gliding over the images that now came into being. The images of Jack‟s farm, of golden fields and sheep dotted about the landscape. Of Blake working in the fields tending the soil with a beast he had never seen the likes of before, a centaur like Ferran, but different. The beast was part man, mangled and deformed, with a spire, twisted and black upon his head. He was of a horse, skin and bones, but his coat glowed like Aidenock‟s did. “What are…you showing…me?” Logan yelped. His jaw clicked as the muscles let go and then tightened. The magic kept up its assault upon his body. His muscles then remained taut and pain and heat followed. Logan moaned like a tormented soul, yet also felt great pleasure from what Ferran was doing to him.

The truth, Logan. Only the truth. You know that Aidenock has filled you with lies, has poisoned your reason. I am here to guide you out of the maze of lies so that you can breathe the air of freedom once more. Be your own man, not some puppet of a malicious creature like the unicorn. Logan‟s reply was muffled. The jumbled words he spoke, some in his voice, some that of Aidenock, didn‟t make sense. Ferran kept going, working expertly over Logan‟s length, transferring more and more power into Logan‟s flesh. Logan pulled down on the root of his cock, retracting his foreskin fully so that the centaur‟s long, hefty tongue could get at more of his glans. The sensation was delicious over the sensitive skin of his exposed glans and Logan‟s mind began to wheel with pleasure. He shuddered. His body burned, his blood a lubricant for the power he was now filled with. He was at odds with what he already held within him, like a great magical battle waged, his body the staging ground. He began to convulse, in ecstasy and hurt, in need for Aidenock and the wanting for the truth and for Ferran to keep up his work. Again and again he screamed until he had to gasp for air. “I…must know what…the truth is. But I must be with…Aidenock. He…he needs…me.”

He does not need you for your sake. Only his own. He is using you as his shield. He will not think twice to dispose of you if it means his own survival. I will show you something, Logan. A place dear to me, and one you now need to see, Ferran said. A sadness mingled and resonated in the words he spoke into Logan‟s mind. In his mind, Logan was taken from the field, like a bolt of lightning. The

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Unicorn’s Peril landscape around him was now a blur, only to re-form and grow, to reveal the place Ferran had spoken of. A grove. In the centre of the clearing there stood a statue of a centaur, at first silhouetted by the sun. Then, as his vision became clear, Logan could see the centaur proper. Logan looked upon the stone beast. He was magnificent. His equine body harboured the lines of a racehorse and chiselled muscles his human form, a mirror of Ferran. Logan could see a resemblance.

This is my brother, Beaudan. He was once Aidenock‟s lover, seduced by him just as you are. With a common mare, they produced two children from their love. But when the unicorns found out, Aidenock was banished from the Keeper‟s land. Beaudan took the brunt of those who attacked him and this is his punishment. To serve eternity in silence. Do you want the same to happen to you, Keeper‟s son? Logan looked upon Ferran with his own eyes, the sight of the centaur nose deep in his pubes, his cock sunk into his mouth, ignited a spark in his mind.

You are beginning to understand now. If Aidenock‟s lover, the joint father of his children, ended up like this, what will become of you when the wheel of fate turns against him once more? You know it will happen. You have seen the vision in your mind. You know I speak the truth. Cut the bond before it‟s too late. Logan, imbued with so much magic, began to spasm. He could feel Ferran sink him deeper into the Waters of Truth, to cool his heated flesh while he continued to suck his cock. When the water covered him completely, he ejaculated into the centaur‟s mouth, unable to control himself. With that ejaculation he let go of Aidenock‟s magic, a release better than any climax he had experienced, for relief added to its strength. His mind was clear for the first time since he had ridden upon Aidenock‟s back to these waters on that fateful night. His seed, his magic, was carried away in stringy globules by the waters of the spring, to mix and dissolve within the Waters of Truth. “What have I done?” Logan whispered. He felt his body slump into the centaur‟s grasp and his head spun. His mind as well as his erection had to come down from the magical high he had experienced. It would take a while to be rid of it all. Ferran had finished his duty. He came away from Logan‟s cock, still erect and glistening wet, it slapped against his stomach. The centaur spat the young man‟s sperm into the water, the fluid and magic dissolving, gone forever. The centaur leaned down, his body blocking the sun. “Just know that no matter what you think, there are those who love you dearly. They have fought

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Mark Alders for you and given up all for you. Blake is your brother. The man we know as the Keeper is your family. That is the truth. Nothing more. No tricks. No ulterior motive. The truth speaks for itself.” Logan‟s vision went from a haze to a blanket of darkness. **** The late afternoon sun soaked the land in oranges and gold while it sank to the horizon, making the shadows long and the once cerulean sky a wonderful wash of warm colour. The setting sun was joined by clouds lined with red and yellow, seeing it off as the veil of night crept up once more. Venus and the Moon were visible in the heavens, the first beacons of light in a sky that would soon be awash with the billions upon billions of stars that made up the Milky Way, adding sparkle to the eternal darkness. The Elder council, their coats glowing a haunting white in the low light of the glen they had arrived at, circled the boy. “What is your wish, my Lords?‟ Josh said. He knelt down before them. His forehead pressed against the dirt. There was a moment of silence, the only sound that of the frogs as they chased insects and each other within the Waters of Desire. The waters here were still, not fed by a waterfall but by an underground aquifer that fed most of the pools within unicorn land. Tell us what you know, Truth said. Everything. Every detail, no matter how

insignificant, how minor you may feel it. Knowledge is power and we need that power. Josh kept his head bowed low. “I will tell you what I know.”

You please us, Keeper‟s son.

“I will soon be the Keeper, you promised me that. I‟ve always wanted to live on a farm.”

You shall have it. Anything you desire is yours. Take off your shackles and walk into the water. There you will be able to tell us everything through thought alone. No need for cumbersome communication. You will be like us.

Josh rose and disrobed. He went into the water. The Elder council went with him, his escort into the magical waters. The water lapped over his toes, he envisaged a door being opened in his mind, a door that held light beyond it. The aura of knowledge then flooded his mind when he reached out with his thoughts and opened that door. I know where the outcast is hiding, Josh said into the Elder council‟s minds, his eyes closed, deep in concentration. His brow furrowed, but he was

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Unicorn’s Peril pleased that he was able to speak into minds like the Elder council could.

Are you sure? Thor tried well to hide the knowledge from me while I was his familiar. He wants him for himself. To have him before he strikes him down for what he has done. To exact his revenge. It is not his place to dispense justice, Truth snorted. He ended off the sentence with a whinny, one that echoed through the glen. Then we must get to the outcast before he does. A smile drew on Josh‟s lips, and he opened his eyes. Where is Aidenock? Truth asked, his voice sinister and harsh, like nails across a chalkboard. At the homestead, inside the stable, Josh replied. He performed another bow as he spoke and the water lapped near his nose. Then we must go, Truth commanded. Council, summon the circle

protectors. We ride to the Keeper‟s farm as soon as night has closed upon the land. You are truly wise, Truth. You and all the council, Josh said. And you, Josh, are our saviour. Our anchor. Our protection.

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Chapter Thirty-Three

B

lake and Savannah walked side by side down the eastern path. The path snaked its way down to the fallowed field at the base of the hill, the field that marked the border of the Keeper‟s land. It was a sight that warmed Blake‟s heart. The dust eddied around them when they disturbed the ground, visible and vibrant in the light that ebbed as the Earth turned towards darkness. Fingers of light through the eucalyptus trees crossed their trail and dappled around them. Savannah‟s tan coat glowed, like a unicorn‟s, when the light filtered through the trees. It danced over her in strange and wonderful patterns. She looked beautiful, and the nakedness of her human torso didn‟t disturb him at all. If anything it accentuated her attractiveness. “Tell me, Savannah,” Blake said. He rubbed his chin in thought. “I need to know more about my dad.” Savannah turned to him, slow and deliberate, her eyes glistening as a ray of light crossed her face. “What did you want to know?” “I mean, I have lived on the farm all my life…hated it. In fact, I was just about to leave yesterday, to go live in town with Valerie and Josh—” “But you can‟t now, can you?” Blake‟s features darkened and a pained expression grew from that darkness. “Not until—it‟s all my fault, you know. How I involved Josh in all this. I feel so bad I can‟t…” “The Keeper‟s son would have met his fate, whether from your hand or not. That is the way of these things. Secrets kept are eventually let go, and Josh was a secret you discovered. Nothing more.” “What do you mean?” Blake said. He recoiled. “Thor, or some other, would have gone to the town you speak of and taken him…eventually. Once he knew you were not the one he needed for his plan. Anyway, you wanted me to speak of your father. There is so much to tell I don‟t know where to start,” Savannah said with a giggle. The thoughts she

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Unicorn’s Peril drew from her memory made her jovial. “He has taught us everything over the years. He has been our light in our darkest times, especially when we have clashed with the unicorns. He was our foundation so that we could build up our clan, our society. He has made sure we have all been well. Given us all he could. Just as he has done for you, Blake. He has given up himself for the benefit of others.” “Through guilt?” “Perhaps. But from that guilt something wonderful bloomed. How many can say that their guilt has made them good?” Blake nodded. “I feel like I need to get to know him all over again.” “That‟s what love is all about,” Savannah said. Her hair flicked in the breeze that now whipped up as they came to open land. The path spilled out to the fields to become one with the yellow grass. “Discovering each other every day, that is the secret. The nuances that make up a person, to be with them, to know them and then to do it all again with each and every rise of the sun. That is what it is all about.” “You truly love Ferran, don‟t you?” Blake said. He rubbed his hand along her back and the muscles in her rump twitched. She swished her tail, an action that reflected her happiness. “With every breath I take.” There was a moment of silence before Blake said, “My dad taught you the resuscitation technique, didn‟t he?” “Of course. He has taught us everything, as I said.” “I think I should tell you, I‟m going to stay on the farm.” Savannah stopped and turned her bulk around so that she faced Blake. Then, seconds later, she embraced him tight. “That‟s wonderful. Now we just have to remind a certain unicorn that he has outgrown his welcome.” “How are we going to do that?” “Use Thor‟s horn if we have to.” “I was afraid you were going to say that.” Blake‟s words ended with a sigh. **** Logan woke alone. The Waters of Truth lapped around him, caressed his skin with each and every ripple created by the cascading waterfall that fed the spring. His hair was soaked and his body wet, for it was like he had been dumped upon the shore, left to his own devices to ponder how he had got here. His mind was unclear

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Mark Alders as to what had transpired. He was even unsure why he was at the Waters of Truth. Much to his chagrin, the effects of the magic Ferran had infused him with remained, his cock still stirred and his sperm oozed from his piss slit.

Logan my sweet.

Logan jolted upright. The words that had invaded his mind were fleeting, gone as quick as they had arrived. Logan searched the archives of his mind. Slowly, he remembered what he had done, what he had become and why he recognised the voice. Confusion and disorientation overwhelmed him. It was then he recalled the moments that made up his imprisonment. He placed the small pieces together like a jig-saw puzzle, fragment upon fragment, to finally complete the picture. “Blake!” he screamed out, the shrilling squawk of parrots and corellas his only reply. The birds took flight from the branches in protest, disturbed as they prepared to roost for the night. Logan got to his feet, pulled up his wet shorts and examined the landscape that surrounded him. Concern crossed his thoughts, concern as to where Blake and the two centaurs were. The ground was covered in hoof and human prints, so many it was hard to count. To his left, prints both human and centaur, led down a path. They were fresher marks, clear over all the others and obviously recent. The boot marks were about Blake‟s size. At least he knew Blake was with another. Logan sighed in relief.

Logan. Can you hear me?

Logan held his head and pressed his palms tight to his temples. He hoped to exorcise the voice from his mind, for it haunted him. The words that infected his thoughts hurt his head and again he screamed out in anguish. “What do you want from me?” There was silence in his mind. Logan continued to examine the ground for more clues. He discovered large hoof prints that lead from the water‟s edge and down another path, a path Logan remembered, because it seemed familiar. His stomach clenched, for he knew the direction the centaur named Ferran had gone. The creature had gone down the path that led to the cave, the place where he met his brother. Then, he remembered how he, without provocation, attacked Blake, doing the biding of another and not of his own wish or of his own design. Bile rose up, tickled the back of his throat and made him nauseous. He coughed. Logan doubled over and threw up. The fluid and mess he purged from his system sparked magic upon the ground. Grass and straw flowers sprung up from his vomit.

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Unicorn’s Peril What have I done? The memory was clear now. How he kissed, caressed and then attempted to penetrate Blake, struck him as though he had been shot. The reality of how he had behaved seared his thoughts. He could only now, in his freedom, see what he had done. His thoughts drew back further and further, to the stable, to the ride upon Aidenock‟s back and to the photograph he had found in Blake‟s room. What he had been told were all lies. Logan emptied the remains of his stomach upon the red dirt. Wiping the vomit from his lips with the back of his hand once done, he staggered to his feet. A cold sweat clung to him, something to help the dust he had kicked up stick to his skin even more than it already did. Logan was left with two choices, follow Blake and the other centaur or go to the one that had saved him. **** The field swept across Blake‟s view. But something other than the land that rolled before him caught his eye. Something moving in the distance, hard to fathom in the faded light of sunset. “Did you see something, Savannah? Over there, near the banksia grove.” “You mean the dingoes.” Blake squinted and he shielded his face with his hand, to emphasis his gaze upon the land. “Yes, I think they are dingoes. My God, there are hundreds of them. I‟ve never seen so many.” “And another is with them, too.” “What do you mean?” “There is a horse amongst them. But not a horse.” “Thor!” Savannah looked down. Then, with a voice that was more a sigh, like the breeze that whipped around them, she said, “Yes. Thor has come upon the Keeper‟s land. This is going to be more difficult than I first thought.” “Aidenock will leave,” Blake said stepping forward with determination, “one way or another.” **** Keallan was drenched. The cocoon of water that surrounded Jack was thin. The magic that held him in suspended animation had weakened enough to break the bond the

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Mark Alders Waters of Desire created. Keallan, thankfully, was at the last turn in the road before he made the final trek up to the Waters of Truth. At the top of the path, before the hill wound its way up to the Waters of Truth proper, Ferran stood. The centaur covered the width of the path with his bulk. “You will not pass, Beast,” Ferran boomed. Keallan noticed something different about Ferran. For one he smelt as if he had been altered. The breeze that whipped around bought the centaur‟s strange scent down to his nostrils, confirmed what Keallan thought. He took in a great lungful of air to be sure. Ferran was rife with the odour of unicorns upon him. The unicorns of the Elder council to be exact. “I don‟t have time for fucking childish games, Ferran.” Keallan didn‟t halt his advance and his hooves pounded the ground in protest. “The Keeper needs attention and I plan to give it. Now move, you fucker, before I shove your pretty boy face up your arse.” Ferran‟s coat glowed, so much so the faded light of the day emphasised the centaur. He looked like he was made of unicorn blood. “You must not pass, for I am to protect unicorn land.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” Keallan felt more water from Jack‟s cocoon drip onto him, with a rhythm that reminded him of the urgency of his mate‟s situation. One, two, three, droplets of water fell upon his front legs. The puddle created beneath him as he stood and argued with the centaur represented the fewer moments Jack had before his death. “I am the protector of the circle, a hand of the Elder council. And you have been warned.” Keallan‟s expression changed to that which softened his ragged features. His expression smoothed, for he understood that Ferran had been filled with the poison of unicorn magic. “Not another one,” Keallan said with a sigh, the burden of Jack in his arms apparent. He had to shift his weight around in the hope the load he bore would become lighter. “What is this, a convention of unicorn bitches in town?” “I will take the Keeper. You may leave before I change my mind,” Ferran said. “You will not touch him with your filthy hands. Now get out of my way, hand of the fucking circle or whatever you are.” “What gives you the right to claim him? I will see to it that he is cured within the waters. The offer is fair and one you do not deserve to receive, Beast.”

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Unicorn’s Peril “What‟s fair is that you will let me pass or I will see to it that you‟ll never mount Savannah again with that puny dick of yours.” Ferran‟s eyes flickered, like a spark had ignited a flame within his mind. “Savannah?” The centaur‟s voice but a gasp when he spoke the name of his beloved. Keallan didn‟t stop his advance. Another drip upon his leg sunk his anger to the pit of his stomach for the one that got in his way. He hated the centaur—no, he hated the unicorns. “Just let me take him to the water myself. Once there you can challenge me all you wish.” Ferran swayed, like the canopy on either side of the path did in the breeze that caressed the land. The centaur then held his head, like it were a mask to his pain. “I cannot.” With that he snorted the air, scraped his hoof so that it scratched over the rubble of the path and then charged. The centaur‟s eyes dark and intent, fixed upon Keallan. Keallan placed Jack onto the ground with care, the water so thin over him that his hair poked out from the film. “I‟m so sorry. I won‟t be long, Jack. Hang in there, mate.”

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Chapter Thirty-Four

C

uriosity got the better of Logan. He went down the path the centaur had travelled, to thank him for saving his soul from Aidenock‟s grasp, if nothing else. At the moment, while the wounds were still fresh upon him, both physically and emotionally, he couldn‟t face his brother. Not yet anyway. He felt ashamed and above all embarrassed. Sure, the passage of time would heal the scar upon his leg, but it would take longer to forgive himself for what he had done, what he had become. Logan passed the cave and the round scar on his thigh prickled. Caressed by his guilt, fed by the darkest moments within his mind, he drew more and more memories of what he had done into his conscious thoughts. The moments clear in his mind‟s eye where he had become Aidenock‟s puppet. He saw how the unicorn had used the pleasures of his flesh to rule that of his heart and mind. He was nothing more than a mindless beast and something to be ashamed of. Coming to the incline in the path, the marks of the tussle he had with Blake were still fresh. He saw the blood, his blood, now dried upon the ground. He looked away, the sight too painful to bear, only to be confronted with Ferran‟s bulk at a twist in the trail, the centaur‟s back to him. Before Logan could call out he saw the creature spring to life and charge down the path. Ferran rose to a full gallop within the blink of an eye. “Ferran!” But the centaur either didn‟t hear him or chose to ignore Logan‟s call and didn‟t reply. He must have been concerned with other matters, for Ferran had disappeared from sight before Logan could follow. Logan ran as fast as he could down the path. The sight he was confronted with froze his blood. The centaur, a locomotive of rippled, pulsing muscle, charged down the trail toward another. The beast Ferran came to was somewhat like a centaur, half horse and half man, but different. It was in fact hideous within its own skin. Within this

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Unicorn’s Peril beast‟s arms he held a man. The man, as stiff as a corpse and covered in a wet, shiny substance, was Jack. His so-called father. The Keeper. Logan‟s stomach turned. The butterflies within rose uncomfortably close to his heart and made the muscle pound so loud in his chest that it vibrated up his throat. The ugly beast placed his dad onto the ground with care, whispered something into his ear and then stood ready as Ferran came upon him. Centaur and beast flesh combined, collided with one another. The dust and debris kicked up as their limbs tangled obscured Logan‟s view. The force of their collision rumbled the ground beneath his feet. The sound of snapped bone hit Logan, like a branch had been struck from a tree by white hot lightning, the sound so final and absolute that he feared he was too late to do any good. **** Ferran fell to the ground, his legs spayed. The dust whipped up into a whirlwind around him as he rolled down the path. The smash of hooves and limbs and bodies was a great load to bear and Ferran took the worst of it upon him. He had found the dirt. The centaur‟s human collar bone, broken in the collision, was now a nasty protrusion from red swelled flesh, but the break didn‟t pierce the skin. Ferran didn‟t yelp. Not even a murmur passed from his lips, even though his face bore the evidence of his pain. “Fuck you, Ferran!” Keallan screamed. He spat a great ball of saliva onto the centaur‟s human chest. The globule hit the target true and splattered over Ferran‟s skin. “That‟ll teach you to fucking mess with me.” Ferran scrambled to his feet, his equine coat grazed. Blood trickled from deep scratches he bore as he fell. His life fluid marred his shiny, healthy coat. “You cannot pass,” Ferran said. His voice wavered and he stumbled as he rose to full height. His hooves slipped on the loose rock of the path, disorientated by the force of the blow he was dealt by the beast. “Oh, get over it.”„ Keallan lowered his head, his black, twisted spire parallel with the ground. The faded light around them caught the sheen of it so the horn radiated a deep orange. “Move one step forward and I will run you through. You hear me?” “You will not.” Ferran‟s face softened. “I…I…what have I?” But the centaur stumbled once more. The bulk of his body too much to bear, his hind legs crumpled underneath him. “Savannah,” he added with a whimper. He

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Mark Alders crashed once more onto the dirt with a dull thud. Keallan raised his head. He went to the centaur as quick as his legs could carry him. He knelt —no, fell upon Ferran as soon as he was close. “Are you all right?” The unitaur saw the extent of the damage Ferran had been inflicted with. His forecannon, too, was broken, along with deep red and yellow marks all over his torso, the birth of bruises that would be painful once formed, bruises that hid deeper wounds. Keallan‟s body was also battered, but it was Ferran that fared the worst in the charge. Ferran didn‟t reply, other than to whine. His eyes looked up to the heavens in a blank stare. There was a glaze over them that didn‟t warm the heart or inspire hope. The centaur‟s body lay helpless upon the ground. Keallan had no time to play triage. He was about to get up and see to Jack when something caught his attention, something from the corner of his eye. A human approached. **** Logan came to a halt. He looked upon the carnage before him, mouth agape. But before he could speak, ask about what had happened here, the hideous half centaur beast rose up, the glare in his yellow beady eyes horrible to witness. “Help me carry your father to the Waters of Truth, Keeper‟s son. We don‟t have much time.” Logan froze, for the beast‟s voice was harsh, like that of sheep pellets being poured from a feeding shoot. Logan opened his mouth, but only air escaped. His larynx didn‟t react to his brain‟s command to form words. The sight of the beast up close was something to be seen to be believed. He was truly ugly. His equine part all skin and bone, with flaccid muscle that hung from his thin frame. His human part was equally unattractive and his facial features could be considered disgusting. It was like the beast were a hotchpotch of body parts thrown together, or a living Picasso painting. “I said, fucking help me. You can take photos later, then I‟ll be happy to pose for you,” Keallan boomed. Spittle flew from his gruesome lips. “Do you want your father to die?” Logan was snapped out of his reverie. His mind, fixated on trying to decipher what creation or design the beast was, came back to the harsh reality set out before him. “Sure. Um, we gotta hurry.” “Pick him up in whatever manner you can. He must get to the water

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Unicorn’s Peril before the cocoon dissipates. I will tend to the dim-witted centaur.” Logan went to his dad. Dead eyes, through a shell of what he supposed was water, looked up at him when he leaned over to pull his father from the ground. The path was stained dark with the water that had already leached from the cocoon. All that remained upon him was so thin it was more like a lustre, like one had after a hard run. A far cry from what he would consider or describe as protection. When Logan placed his hands underneath his dad, there was a gasp of air from his mouth which startled him. The cocoon was no more and his dad‟s bare skin was open to the air. “Logan…” Jack said, the rest of what he spoke garbled as his voice broke down to that of a quiet rasp, like sandpaper over rough wood. “Yes, Dad.” Logan came close to him. He placed his ear over his father‟s lips, not wanting to miss a single word. “You must accept Keallan as…one of us.” “The beast?” Logan questioned, his voice filled with doubt. “Yes…he‟s…my mate…and you and Blake…” Logan‟s voice became hoarse and his register faltered, the cause of his failed voice a lump in his throat that made the words difficult to form, to pass from his lips in any coherent manner. Finally, after he composed himself, he said. “Dad, I‟m so sorry I ever doubted you. I‟m so sorry I failed you.” Jack rose up his hand, which trembled under its own weight. He gestured his dismissal to what it was Logan spoke of. “You failed…nothing. You are my son. You and…Blake. You must be…the Keepers of this land…make sure the balance…is…” Logan sank down onto his dad‟s chest. “Don‟t leave me. I need you, Dad. Now more than ever.” His dad‟s heartbeat was weak upon his ears. Tears began to flow down Logan‟s cheeks to fall onto his dad‟s shirt. “You…will be…just fine…I love you both…I‟m proud—” With a final gasp of breath, like his soul had departed, Jack‟s heartbeat ceased. Logan lay over his dad for what seemed an eternity. He hugged him tight, for he didn‟t want to let him go. Then, he smoothed his dad‟s face so that he could feel his warmth for the last time. Logan wept with all his heart, with every fibre of his being and with all the air in his lungs. He cried until his dad‟s shirt was wet with his salty tears, until his voice was nothing but a guttural moan. “Hurry, Keeper‟s son,” Keallan boomed. Logan looked up. His vision blurred, hardly able to make out the beast

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Mark Alders and the centaur he supported. Logan‟s body was weak with sadness, unable to go to the one his dad named Keallan. But he had to tell his friend, his mate, of his dad‟s passing. Not that Logan wanted to leave his dad‟s side, even if he could manage it at this point in time. “Keallan,” Logan said. His lips quivered, wet with tears. The beast turned, already halfway up the path. He held onto Ferran, taking the weight off his broken leg so that they could at least walk to the Waters of Truth. “I said, pick him up, we don‟t have much—” But Keallan cut himself short. The look Logan gave him told him all he needed to know. **** Keallan left Ferran. He rose to a gallop as he came down the path, an intensity cast in his eyes that burned and struck fear into Logan‟s soul. “No! Fuck you! No!” Keallan cried. He fell to his knees beside Jack‟s body. The dust and dirt arrived with him, creating a screen that surrounded and choked them. “Don‟t you fucking dare die on me, you hear? Don‟t you fucking dare!” Logan placed his arm around Keallan‟s shoulder, for the beast held onto his dad tight. He pulled him up from the ground so he could hold him proper, his head buried into Jack‟s neck. Keallan took in his scent so that he could remember him even when his body had passed to the Earth. “You‟re my mate, you can‟t die. You just fucking can‟t!” Keallan bellowed. “Fuck! No! No! No!” Logan didn‟t say a word. He folded himself into the beast‟s arms so that he, too, could be close to his dad and the one that was his mate. Keallan extended out his embrace so that Logan was held within his grasp as well. “You can‟t leave me, you hear? You can‟t go. I need you and I won‟t let you. You‟re my mate. My fucking mate!” Keallan roared. Tears of anguish flowed down his face. “I‟m sorry,” Logan whispered. Keallan burst to his feet and Jack fell onto Logan. “This is all your fault, Ferran, you fucker!” he screamed, spittle projected far from his mouth. “I‟m going to kill you, relish in the fact that you, too, will be soon be dead.” “No!” Logan shouted. Tears continued to stream down his face while he untangled himself from his dad. Then, defiantly, he blocked the path between Keallan and Ferran. The beast‟s horn was poised so close to his forehead that he could feel its intensity.

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Unicorn’s Peril “This is not what my dad would have wanted. You hear me, Keallan? You can‟t take a life for a life.” “Fucking watch me. Watch me spill this centaur‟s blood onto the ground. You just take a good hard look as I do it.” “Keallan. No!” Logan screamed in reply, holding out his arms so that he exposed his chest to the beast. “Get out of my fucking way, Keeper‟s son.” “You‟ll have to kill me, too, then.” There was a long moment of silence, a moment where no one or nothing moved, not even the birds in the trees. Everything was as still as Jack‟s body upon the red dirt at the edge of the path. Keallan screamed something incomprehensible. He charged over to the edge of the path and began to rip out eucalyptus saplings from the dirt by their roots. He threw them over the trail, without a care as to where they landed. “Keallan,” Logan said. “Help me carry my dad away from here.” But Keallan didn‟t answer. He was busy destroying the land. He‟d rip the hill apart with his bare hands if he had to and he screamed out in anguish. Over and over he bellowed and roared as he destroyed the flora along the path. In the end Keallan had to take in great gulps of air to continue his wail of mourning. Logan went to him. He, too, was overcome and fresh tears melded into the trails already upon his face. “We will mourn him together,” Logan said, his hands placed upon Keallan‟s bony equine back. “But we must get out of here.” Keallan turned to look at Logan, his face covered in wet dirt. His human and equine chests rose and fell rapidly from his exertion. “Yeah…you‟re right. And I know who to blame for his death. I just realised that the bastard Ferran was nothing more than a pawn. He was controlled by another, just as you were controlled by my bastard of a father.” “Who is responsible then?” Keallan sniffed back phlegm. His body shuddered with emotion, nearly choking the words from his breath. “The Elder council of unicorns.” Both cried and they held onto another for support. Their arms embraced tight around their bodies. “Who are they?” Logan questioned. “I‟ll name them for you once their filthy bodies are laid out at my hooves,” Keallan replied. “So where will we find this Elder council then?” So you‟re with me then, Keeper‟s son?” Surprise widened Keallan‟s eyes.

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Mark Alders “Yes. It‟s what my dad would have wanted. He told me just before he passed away that you are part of our family.” Keallan was quiet for a moment. Then, he whispered, “Thank you.”

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Thirty-Five

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he pack of dingoes surrounded Thor. They came close, but not so close that they were trampled under hoof while he galloped to the banksia grove, the place they would take shelter until night fell proper over the

land. They nipped and yelped at each other with the anticipation of the duty promised to them by their master. The thrill of the chase and to receive their reward once done was more than enough to spur them on.

Be calm my friends. Soon the time will be ripe for action. Soon I shall have what I desire. And you, for all your loyalty, will also be given that which pleases you. The leader of the pack snarled and came into Thor‟s view. He was a large male, hackles up, ears back. He ran beside Thor, the dingo matching his speed with ease.

Don‟t concern yourself. There will be plenty to feast upon. The farm of the Keeper is the land of plenty and there will be more than enough to go round. Just you see. Thor‟s tone was calm, his register that which harboured an

underlying excitement. The dingo leader pulled away, like a dolphin would from the bow of a ship, only to then merge back into the fur and tangle of bodies that were his brothers and sisters of his pack. Over fallow and fertile field, ditch and mound, they travelled. All had one purpose, all had one goal. To feast on the spoils of victory once it was within their grasp. The branches of the banksias loomed overhead. The foundations of the canopy were like black scaffolds over them. The leaves on those branches helped to darken their surrounds as the light of day faded and gave way to the night. The gloom closed in. Soon it would be time to strike.

Not long to go my friends. Not long before I come for you Aidenock, for soon the time will be right. Whether or not I am healed, it simply must be tonight that I have you. Thor‟s sheath released the tip of his wet shaft, the urges within him strong as he galloped onwards through the banksia grove.

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Mark Alders They came to a halt. Thor, able to command the wind, asked it to squall around him. The dingoes howled, first in turn and then all together. Thor stood proud and tall as his friends sounded out their war cry. His mane and tail was whipped by his created breeze and he looked out onto the yellow field that led to the homestead. His silver eyes filled with hunger. A wanting for the one trapped inside the Keeper‟s stable crept up and overcame him. **** Blake crossed through the fallow field with Savannah, its fertility drained from last season‟s crop. They kept up a steady pace, even though Blake couldn‟t travel as fast, being a beast of two legs. The shadows were long upon the ground, only the tallest of grasses caught the light. Savannah let out a yelp, pressing balled fists tight to her chest. “Are you okay?” “Get up onto my back, Blake. We must make haste.” Blake didn‟t hesitate and climbed upon her as fast as he could manage. The magical cushion supported him as soon as he was in position. “What‟s the matter?” Savannah wheeled her body around and before Blake realised what was happening, she was at a full gallop. She charged back up the path they had come down from the Waters of Truth. “What are you doing? You‟re going the wrong way,” Savannah didn‟t reply. Blake wriggled and writhed upon her back, struggling to break himself away from the magic that fastened him to her, like glue that couldn‟t be dissolved. “Savannah! Stop!” “Just hold on, Blake. Ferran needs me.” Blake‟s eyes widened and his brow rutted. “Logan!” “Yes. Something has happened. I can feel it. I did feel it.” Her voice came out in rhythm with her gallop. Short, sharp and fast. Her breath, nothing but gasps as she galloped higher and higher up the hill as fast as her hooves could carry them. “I never should have left them.” “Don‟t blame yourself,” Blake said. The cushion of magic thankfully made the journey comfortable for him. Although, all he could do was hold on, even though he knew he wouldn‟t fall while she maintained the magical seat. “I‟m

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Unicorn’s Peril sure he‟s all right.” Savannah let out a cry as she pumped her legs harder and harder. Her four beat rhythm drummed the ground and her hooves were a blur beneath her. “You don‟t understand. If he dies, I cannot live either.” Blake could smell her musk, the toil she exerted upon herself was strong. “I don‟t understand,” he screamed into the wind that chaffed his cheeks, cut him to the bone with its chill. He only wore shorts and a T-shirt and his clothes flapped around him as she sped along the path up the hill. “He is my essence.” Savannah‟s breath was but a wheeze. She tried to pull in as much oxygen into her as she could muster. Her skin, both equine and human, now shone from her exertion, slick with her labour. “Life without that is empty. Meaningless. He gives me meaning.” Blake did not utter another word. He understood. **** The sky that held onto the day‟s last kiss became dark above the glen that housed the Waters of Truth. Black clouds swirled, like a whirlpool, but created by a power unseen. A magic unequalled by any beast or creation of the Earth coalesced above. Fork lightning struck the ground and a great blast of sand that hissed and popped spewed out. Created glass shimmered white hot inside the impact craters, like molten lava. Then, even before the lightning faded, the thunder cracked the air with a sonic boom as it seared through the atmosphere. In the place where the lightning struck, next to the water‟s edge, twelve unicorns and a boy stood. All of them glowed as intense as the energy that had hit the ground. Josh‟s skin was a vibrant white, like that of powder. His once blonde hair and eyebrows were now gold. Every hair was iridescent and shone intensely in the conjured darkness that surrounded them. The smile that pressed his lips tight made his face look sinister. Seconds later, more unicorns came to the glen, ones that were cast with bronze hooves and mane, unicorns that didn‟t have upon their bodies the stunning hold on the magic of the Elder council. They were beasts that made up the circle that protected them. They were the Elder councils‟ brawn, their body guards and their servants. Josh stepped forward. The unicorns that comprised the protection circle bowed down low. “I am the new speaker of the Elder council, my brothers. Hear me, for tonight we ride to the homestead of the Keeper to claim what is ours. We must take back that which has been stolen from us. To mend the

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Mark Alders chaos that has been left unbalanced for so long.” Every unicorn, Elder and protector alike, reared up and neighed. Their cries were louder than the thunder that had split the air moments ago. Another then came into the glen and all looked upon him. A centaur approached. The beast was wounded, his walk slow and laboured as he bore his weight awkwardly to ease the pain. His face contorted, twisted in agony, as he hobbled up the path that spilled out to create the ground of the clearing. “Ferran, you have come,” Josh said with a calm even tone. “Help him, my brothers, for he will come with us tonight. He will help us take that back which is ours, for all have answered our call.” But he is a centaur, one of the protectors said. He stepped forward so that he came close to Josh and the Elder council. Josh turned to look upon the one that dared speak against him. The boy‟s eyelids narrowed and he spread out his arms, palms to the heavens. His gesture struck like that of an apostle asking for forgiveness. “Insolence! You will never question the wisdom of the council again.” A scream of agony punched the air when a white light engulfed the defiant unicorn. The energy from Josh‟s arms changed with an adjustment in his gesture. The energy darkened so that it became as black as the clouds that wheeled above. Then, within an instant, the dark light pierced the protector, entering every orifice of his being. Seconds later, the unicorn imploded. Only a bag of crumpled skin remained where the protector once stood. “Anyone else wish to defy the Elder council?” None moved. Josh turned to Ferran and once more the light left his fingers. This time, the energy healed. In a blink of an eye the centaur was as he had been before he had clashed with the beast. He was whole again, ready to rally to the Elder council‟s cause. “Come, we are all ready. No more delays,” Josh said. Again lightning struck the ground. But in the opposite of what had happened to bring the Elder council to the Waters of Truth, they disappeared. The black clouds dissipated as soon as the thunder finished its roll across the sky. **** Logan carefully placed the body of his father onto Keallan‟s back. He

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Unicorn’s Peril smoothed his forehead and caressed his hair, not wanting to lose contact with his dad. Tears still stained and burned his face and again he embraced him before he signalled for Keallan to move on. “Where‟s the centaur?” Keallan said. Logan turned, surveyed the surrounds and then, with a shrug of his shoulders, said, “I don‟t know. But walking on a broken leg would be impossible, I would have thought.” “For a centaur I would imagine it would be, too. But Ferran was filled with the magic of the fucking Elder council.” Keallan rubbed his chin. “Mmm, he must have been summoned. Only that would have spurred him on.” “Some call.” “He is as lost as you were. Probably more so actually. The poor bastard.” “Then we must help him, no matter where he has been taken.” “I just fucking knew you were going to say that,” Keallan said with a sigh. A cushion of magic formed upon his equine back to hold Jack in place. Side by side, Logan and Keallan headed up the path. The last rays of light were soft against their backs. The warmth of the sun faded fast and the heat that had built up from the day surrendered to the cool of the night. **** Blake and Savannah saw everything. The council arrive, the protector murdered in cold blood and Ferran, once injured but now healed, go with them once they departed. Blake turned to her. He realised that he held her hand. Whether it was to stop her from charging to face the council, to show her rage for taking Ferran from her, or for consolation, he didn‟t quite know. All he knew was she trembled. Her hand shook and was clammy in his. She held onto him tight in return, possibly for the same reason he held her. Savannah was still wet with the exertion of her gallop, her breath still short gasps for air. Thankfully, the Elder council didn‟t see them as they watched from behind the bushes that bordered the glen. Blake got to his feet from the crouch he was tucked into. The split second he did so he saw another come into the clearing and he ducked back down behind the undergrowth in response. Actually, it was Savannah that pulled him down with all her might, still holding onto him. “Wait until we know who it is before we act,” she hissed, but her voice was not malicious. Rather, it was like that of a mother that warned her child from crossing a busy street.

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Mark Alders “What now?” Blake whispered. His brow furrowed as anxiety rose once more within him. “Wait.” Savannah got up and moved forward. She pulled Blake along with her, not that he had a choice, for she would not let him go. “It‟s Logan and the beast.” “Logan?” “Blake!” Logan yelled. He rose up to a run, his arms outstretched. Blake ran, too. He fell into his brother‟s grasp once they came together by the water‟s edge. “I‟m so glad to see you‟re all right,” Blake said. He hugged Logan so tight his brother coughed. “I thought you would be…you know…not so happy to see me considering…” Logan‟s cheeks flushed red, his embarrassment clear. Blake looked into his brother‟s eyes and at first Logan hesitated to meet his gaze. “We can talk about that later. The important thing is you are free from Aidenock.” Logan nodded and they embraced each other again. “The news is not all that good though.” “What do you mean?” “Um…Dad.” Logan‟s voice cracked and it was a long while before he could utter any other intelligible words. “Dad didn‟t make it, Blake. He‟s dead.” The last word he spoke so soft it was barely audible above the water that lapped at the shore. Tears then cascaded down Logan‟s cheeks, tears that followed well set out paths to his chin. Blake pulled himself away from Logan, noticing Keallan approach. His bulk took up the view beyond the glen as he came up the path. The beast placed his arm upon Blake‟s shoulder as soon as he was close enough. Straight away Blake could also see the wet trails down the beast‟s face, too. Keallan had mourned for Jack as well, that much was clear. “I did everything I could to save him. Fuck, I tried so hard. I‟m so very sorry.” Keallan turned to reveal Jack‟s corpse upon his equine back. Blake drained white when he saw the body of his dad upon Keallan‟s back. “What happened?” he said, his voice harsh, as if spoken in anger. “The Elder council, that‟s what,” Keallan added. “We just saw them,” Blake replied. He went to his dad and pressed himself against his dad‟s body so that he could embrace him. “We also saw how they dispensed their justice.” A clomp of hooves then echoed through the glen and Savannah came close. She hugged Blake while he held his dad, her touch soft and warm

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Unicorn’s Peril against him. “The Elder council has a lot to answer for. First they take Josh, then Ferran and now your father.” Blake looked up. Tears streaked his face and his bottom lip quivered. The words he spoke were strong. “They will not take my dad‟s farm.” “Then we must act quickly, for they plan to move tonight,” Savannah said. “You heard them.” “Agreed,” Keallan said with a snort. “They will not stop at just Aidenock. They will keep going until they own all the land, as far as the eye can see.” “But how?” Logan added. “Surely they cannot be that powerful. Even Aidenock‟s grasp could be broken. I‟m proof of that.” “They have the body of Josh, a body they can sink their combined power into,” Savannah replied. “One that can never be changed, never falter and never be corrupted. He will never grow now that he has been contaminated with their magic. To never reach puberty, to never develop, eternal in his innocence, endless in the evil he can perform knowing no limits. He will be unable to judge for himself what is right or wrong, for he will have no experience to guide him. He will always be theirs no matter what. He is their voice, the magic they possess intensified through him.” “Fuck me!” Keallan spat. “Let‟s hope they can control him.” “What does that mean?” Blake said. He wiped tears from his chin with the bottom of his T-shirt. “The boy has become one of them,” Savannah said. “He‟s an Elder of the council of unicorns. And I‟m afraid our worst nightmare. You saw what he did.” Blake sighed. “Yes.” With that he cast his attention to the empty unicorn coat in the middle of the clearing, the one that had been struck from his mortal coil moments ago. “I think we should bury dad before we do anything else,” Logan interjected. They all nodded in agreement, without hesitation or question. “Then we do as he wished. His last words to me before he passed away were few but clear in their meaning. He wanted us three, Keallan, Blake and me, to be the new Keepers. And that‟s just what I plan to do.” Blake and Keallan nodded. Then all of them, Savannah included, embraced each other. Their hold seemed eternal, warm in contrast to the cool of dusk that surrounded them. “Then that is what we do,” Blake said, a determination in his voice. “We take back the farm.”

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Mark Alders

Chapter Thirty-Six

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hor looked to the homestead. He held his head held high when he sniffed in deep the cool night air. The wind he created grew in intensity and leaves and debris off the grove‟s floor eddied around him and his familiars. The pack of dingoes was anxious but quiet while they waited for his word to strike, for him to summon them to his cause. The canopy above swayed in the breeze, but Thor remained a sentinel. Silent and still while he watched and sniffed the air. He waited for the right moment, for he knew Aidenock could still protect himself. He had to time his attack with perfection if he was to achieve victory. The intake of the air would give him the information he required. If he couldn‟t smell human, then he would know Aidenock was alone. His powers would be weaker, unable to draw strength from his familiars if not around him. That would be the moment to attack. He forced wave upon wave of wind toward the Keeper‟s homestead. Thor blinked slow and deliberate, his body a tingle of excitement. The beat of his heart was loud in his ears and adrenalin charged through his body, for he couldn‟t smell the Keeper‟s son in the last wind that was delivered to his nostrils. He reared.

We ride now, my friends!

Before another moment passed, Thor charged, leading his hoard of dingoes out of the grove. Hundreds of dingoes, one after the other, poured out onto the field.

Create havoc my friends. Do whatever you must. Just save me the unicorn. Everything else is yours for the taking, your reward for your obedience. Most of the dingoes separated, peeled off the pack and headed for the sheep pens. Others went to the four corners of the farm, but some remained with Thor. Thor could see nothing other than his goal. His hooves pounded the ground hard and fast to draw him closer to that which he desired, that for

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Unicorn’s Peril which he yearned. He smiled, his focus clear, his mind free from all but one thought. Conquest of Aidenock. **** In the quiet of the glen that held the Waters of Truth, four figures knelt together. They held one another, grief their bond. Blake bowed his head, then uttered, “Here lays the body of Jack Massey, the Keeper, our guardian, and our dad. A man that made us who we all are today, but a man we really only came to know of late. It will be those short moments that will leave a mark upon us for eternity. May he rest in peace. Amen.” Blake, once he finished his prayer, moved his hand in the mark of the cross over himself. He got to his feet, dusted off his legs and knees and looked upon the mound of freshly dug dirt they had created with their bare hands one last time. Jack‟s body was laid to rest, the task made light from many hands. Blake turned and placed his touch upon Logan, the smile he gave his brother both welcome and warm. Savannah was the first to move away, but she returned to sprinkle the Waters of Truth over the grave. When she did so she uttered words Blake could not fathom, but ones that sounded beautiful and lyrical upon his ear. They were words he wished he could speak, for they sounded more profound than his simple prayer. Wildflowers, grasses and straw flowers sprang up over the mound to cover it in their colour. “They will grow eternal here now,” Savannah whispered. “I have added my magic to the Waters of Truth.” Blake looked up into her eyes. “Thank you.” “The time draws near,” Keallan said with a cough. “We must ride to the farm if we wish to claim it.” Savannah stepped forward. The magical cushion had formed over her back. “Blake, you‟re with me. Logan you can ride with Keallan.” “I‟ve just got to make a pit stop first,” Logan added. “What are you talking about?” Blake said with a scorn. Then, once he saw his brother retreat to the bushes, realised what he meant. “Oh.” “Good. Let the man piss his heart out,” Keallan said. Harsh laughter came from his lips, but his beady eyes glistened. They reflected a joy that somehow managed to smooth his gruesome features. “The more fluid he gets rid of now, the less chance my father will have to take him from us again.”

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Mark Alders “He should also drink plenty from the Waters of Truth,” Savannah said. She nodded in agreement to the words the beast had spoken. “Even if we have to stop for him many times, it would be wise. Our allies are few. To lose him, or indeed anyone, to the unicorn would be a tragedy.” Blake nodded. “Loges, drink as much as you can before we go, all right?” “Sure thing,” Logan replied. “I don‟t ever want to be his puppet again.” “Yeah, and I don‟t think I can handle you kissing or licking me ever again either. Or, now that I think about it, have you attempting to—” “Hey, that wasn‟t my fault.” Logan had finished his business and approached Keallan. Keallan laughed again. “Yeah, he can‟t help it, the poor bastard. My father has tastes that extend out of his species. I‟m fucking proof of that.” “Keallan‟s right,” Logan said, going over to the Waters of Truth and taking in great mouthfuls from his cupped hands. “It was Aidenock, not me.” “So did you fuck him good?” Keallan retorted. The beast‟s smile was so wide that his yellow, malformed teeth could be seen, even in the low glow of moonlight. Logan gasped. The water he had gathered ran through his fingers to drip on his feet. Surprise opened his mouth and widened his eyes. “No!” “Good. You‟ve just moved up on my scale of likeability then. Now get onto my back. We must ride now.” Savannah touched Blake upon his shoulder. “Come, Keeper, we must go.” Blake turned to her. “You called me Keeper.” “That is what you are now, isn‟t it? All three of you are in fact the Keepers of this land. That was the wish of your dad, wasn‟t it?” “Yes.” Savannah and Keallan rode out of the glen that was home to the Waters of Truth and the grave of Jack the Keeper, Logan and Blake upon their backs. They thundered down the path toward their goal, dirt and dust kicked up behind them in their wake. The cool breeze of night chaffed Blake‟s face, sharp and strong against his skin. The chill, unfortunately, would be their escort as they rode down the trail to the field below. **** Aidenock paced the walk of the stable, the beat of his hooves a soft shuffle that disturbed the silence. He was unable to relax, for he knew tonight was the night Thor would make his move. He closed his eyelids tight.

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Unicorn’s Peril Come to me, Logan my sweet. I know you can hear me. I know you still want me. I have more to give you, more we can share. Come to me and I will reward you with more of my gifts. I am ready. I am waiting. He opened his eyelids. Pleasant thoughts filled his mind, for he could, in a vision that just struck him, see that his familiar did indeed approach.

I knew you could not resist. I knew you wanted more from me. Needed more from me. Come, Logan my sweet. Come to me.

But deep in the vision, mixed in with the sight of his property that returned to him, he saw something else. He concentrated on its meaning, searched deep into the vision to understand what it truly told him. Then it struck him, like a crack from a whip upon his back. He could see dingoes, hundreds of them, all coming to the farm, his estranged lover at their lead. I do miss you Thor, Aidenock said to himself, his thoughts not projected out this time. But I fear your meaning has gone beyond that which serves my

purpose. I know you intend to take my power and I cannot let that happen. Sure, our bonding of flesh was nice. But really, what good are you to me if you do not want to do my biding? You are weak Thor. Weak like the mortals are that crave the pleasure from their own bodies. Your body shouldn‟t rule your head. What separates you from my familiars if that is the case?

Aidenock went into his stall, tired of pacing. He didn‟t want to leave the stable for fear of laying himself unprotected out in the lands beyond the farm. He had been caught once before in the open. Even though the wound that was thrust upon him by Thor‟s spire was not visible now, the memory still burned within him. Thor couldn‟t have him then and he would not have him now. He had eyes for another. He approached with his familiar.

I know you come to me, too, my son.

Aidenock knelt onto the bedding hay.

But I am stronger than you think. Do you know how long I have waited for you? Do you realise what I will do so that I can have your power? You will do my biding when you arrive, for I know what it is that makes you tick, makes you who you are. I am your father, after all. He raised his head, his spire alight like it were created from flame. His magic illuminated the stable with its powerful light. This comforted him.

You will be left with no choice but to mount me, to supplicate for my flesh around your shaft. I will have your seed leave your body and course through mine, our magic to mingle. I will drain it from you if I have to. I will leave you weak to my will, for I have foreseen it.

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Mark Alders He extended out the light from his horn so that it radiated out farther and farther until it went beyond the boundaries of the stable.

I will have you Keallan and you will have me. Then, and only then, can we rule this land. Even the Elder council will be unable to stop us. The edge of the light solidified. A protective shell formed, surrounding the stable, keeping Aidenock safe from all those who would approach, able to let in only those he desired into his domain.

Come Thor, I will smite you from this Earth. Come Logan, be by my side, my servant once more, just as you desire. Come Keallan, for I am hard for you. Let it be known that I am ready and waiting for whatever may pass tonight. I am ready for everything. **** Thor thundered through the field, unsatisfied, for it took too long to get to the house. The dingoes that chose to stay with him kept up his blistering pace and they panted for air like he did. Clouds of condensation blew from all the beasts‟ mouths and nostrils. I need more eyes, Thor said. He saw a bright light emanate from the homestead and then disappear as quick as it came. Crows, come to the

homestead. I command it. Hear my call, for your services are needed.

Seconds later, the caw of a crow echoed across the land. Then another came, and yet another. So many birds answered Thor‟s call in fact that together their song deafened those below. The sky was soon thick with crows, all coming to Thor‟s aid.

Now go, keep an eye on the Keeper‟s home and survey the lands around.

Thor was in a better frame of mind. He saw in his mind‟s eye what the crows saw. I must make sure this is my victory, for I will not rest until he is mine

once more, to dispense with once I am done. He is not anyone else‟s but mine. Not the council‟s. Not any beast‟s. Not even any man‟s. He is mine! Thor could see what the cause of the light was. Aidenock had extended out his magic and a shield now covered the stable of the Keeper to protect him.

Your tricks will not save you, Aidenock. I am coming ready or not. There is unfinished business between us and I plan to end it tonight.

The dingoes reached the farm first. Thor arrived seconds later. All came to a halt at the base of the shield Aidenock had created. Thor closed his eyes and concentration wrinkled his face. Clouds, dark and menacing, then formed above the building that housed his lover.

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Unicorn’s Peril I will have you, Aidenock. Lightning from the clash of the clouds above then struck the shield. All the colours of the rainbow coursed over the surface of the shell with each and every strike of Thor‟s lightning. It rippled like a great stone had been cast into a calm pool. But the shield didn‟t break.

It will only be a matter of time before you are mine. Come out now. End it. Make it quick on yourself, Thor screamed. The created lightning struck the shield over and over so that its integrity buckled. But the Shield held.

I will never be yours again, Thor. I have another more worthy and he comes here this night also, Aidenock said. Who is it? That human? The so-called Keeper‟s son? No. My son, Aidenock snapped. The beast? Yes. Thor screamed and great sheets of lightning rained down upon the stable. The shield wobbled and fluoresced under the strain. The shell had weakened, but not enough so that Thor could pass. Not yet.

Dingoes, throw yourselves onto the shield, for flesh will disturb its flow.

One by one the dingoes fell upon the shield, doing their master‟s bidding without question. One by one they exploded into a mess of bone and skin and hair by the base of the shield. Keep going. Aidenock must be weakened. He must! Thor screamed. Along with the dingoes, Thor kept up the lightning assault. The shield radiated the energy struck upon it and it phased in and out of existence as it shone all the colours imaginable. The Shield seemed to weaken and Thor neighed in both enjoyment and anticipation of what could be.

I have you now, Aidenock. Soon you will be mine. The shield faltered.

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

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he sound of Keallan and Savannah‟s hooves galloping over the fallow field was like that of a drum being beaten, fast and with a tone so deep that it vibrated the ground with a rhythm that echoed over the land. Logan and Blake felt the pound of their hooves even though the beat was muffled by the cushions they sat upon. The ride was exhilarating and the cool night air over their skin, once a discomfort, yielded in their minds. The thrill of the gallop consumed them in joy. Keallan slowed to a canter. “What is it?” Savannah said. She came down to match the fall in his tempo. “Can‟t you see it?” Keallan sputtered. His breath was short from the strain of their dash over the landscape. “Fucking dingoes! Over there in the distance.” Savannah nodded. “Yes, it seems Thor has got to the farm before us.” “Bah! Nothing we can‟t handle. The bastard is all hot air surrounded by unicorn skin. Logan, Blake, arm yourselves before we go on,” Keallan added. He came to a halt by the fence that separated the fields of the farm. “With what?” Logan said. But Blake had already climbed off Savannah‟s back, pulling a metal star picket from the ground. He let out a cry of victory when it became free from the soil that bound it. “With these, Loges,” he replied. He felt the weight of the picket in his hands and held it like it were a spear. “They‟re perfect. These and the horn I have, that is.” “That‟s a great idea,” Savannah said. She pulled one from the dirt, too. The wire that bound the pickets twanged and she tested the point with her finger. “Sharp.” “Come, let us go then. We don‟t want to waste anymore fucking time.” “Just a sec…nature calls,” Logan interjected, turning away from them. The bush he released his urine onto glowed when his urine splashed upon its

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Unicorn’s Peril leaves, but the glow faded as soon as it was absorbed. Once he had rid his body of more magic, he, too, pulled out a picket. “Now I‟m ready.” “You can still hear him in your mind, can‟t you?” Keallan questioned with a snort. Saliva sprayed from his lips. “My father‟s call, I mean.” “Yes,” Logan whispered. “But I‟m okay…really.” “You will be. We will make sure of it,” Savannah said, her voice so smooth, so beautiful, Logan couldn‟t help but feel empowered by it. Her words not only calmed him, but gave him hope, too. “But what about Ferran?” Blake asked. He climbed back up onto Savannah, holding the picket high. “As long as he breathes, as long as he can beat his heart, I will be his sanctuary. There is one force stronger than any magic, one force that binds us like no other. Our love for each other is stronger than any unicorn creation. You will see.” “I hope so,” Logan said with a smile. “We need him.” “As do I, Keeper,” she whispered. “As do I.” “Great, that‟s settled. Time to go hunt us some dingo and then rid this Earth of a few unicorn fuckers in the process!” Keallan said. **** The bodies of the dead dingoes piled up around the base of the wavering shield. More and more Thor commanded the lightning to strike and the dingoes to sacrifice themselves for his cause and more and more the shell of Aidenock‟s power weakened. Thor charged, seizing the opportunity the macabre heap of dingo flesh presented. He galloped through the blood and gore which were once his familiars with a victory neigh. The barrier that protected Aidenock was at its weakest where it met and tried to permeate though the dingoes‟ tissue, bone and claw. Once upon his dead familiars, Thor lowered his head and smashed his way through them. Seconds later, he found himself inside the stable, covered in their gore. The meat of his familiars plastered his body and stained his emerging unicorn coat red. He had to blink the blood from his eyes, take a moment to gather his bearings once inside the walls of the stable proper, but he was happy he had succeeded in his goal. It‟s about time you figured out how to get in, Thor, Aidenock said. He stepped out from his stall. His radiance, his beauty set the stable alight with its

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Mark Alders luminosity and Thor gasped once his gaze was set upon him. Aidenock‟s mane, long and flowing, fell over his face when he tilted his head. He was so alluring. Then the smell of him hit Thor and he flared his nostrils in response. His sheath loosened, and he couldn‟t help but be enamoured by him. Aidenock could seduce him. He would let him. Thor took a step forward and whinnied. He had forgotten how much he missed him, how much he yearned for him. The look of him as he stood before him was so sensual. But he straightened himself so he stood tall. He didn‟t want him see him taken aback by his presence. That would show weakness.

Yes, I am here. Now we have things to settle before I kill you once and for all, my Aidenock, Thor said. But his voice wavered. He struggled to regain his

composure and stamped his hoof onto the floor in frustration. Aidenock trotted up to him, so close his scent, powerful before but now even more so, hit him with its potency. Thor shook his head and snorted as he tried to rid the aroma from his nostrils, to exorcise him from his mind. Aidenock circled him. Strong words, Thor, but your body deceives you. I

can see for myself your true desire. I can see you want me. Look at you. You‟re finding it hard to resist, aren‟t you? I will have that too before I end your pitiful life. But there is something you have forgotten, my dear sweet Thor. Thor twisted his head, for he was now by his rump. And what is that?

With that Aidenock closed his eyes and his spire ignited. Once more the light radiated out, strengthening the weakened shield to protect him once more. Call upon your dogs now, for they cannot hear you. Call your thunder

and lightning, do whatever you can. It will do you no good. How are you going to get out of here? Thor‟s eyes widened. If I smite you, then the shield will fall, Aidenock. That is how I plan to get out of here. Simple.

He rose up, pirouetted on his hind legs until his front hooves were positioned above Aidenock‟s head. Then, with all his might and before Aidenock could react, he came down. Thor bore all his weight upon him, slamming his hooves into him. Aidenock managed to tilt his head so that Thor‟s attack came down upon his shoulder and neck, rather than the intended target of his head. Thor‟s hooves hit him with a dull thud and he screamed in his mind, his pain clear. Aidenock fell to the ground from the force and once more Thor reared. His hooves wheeled as he prepared to strike him again.

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Unicorn’s Peril Now submit to me. Let me have you. His shaft fell from his body and it glistened from his excitement and Aidenock‟s glow. You will pay for that, Aidenock spat. Submit! Thor came down. He had targeted his head once more, his want to crush his skull underneath his hooves. Whether or not he had him before or after he had slaughtered him he didn‟t care. But have him he would. Aidenock‟s spire became ablaze and with the energy he created he directed it into Thor when he fell upon him again. The power he released was strong and Thor was jolted by it. The flare from Aidenock‟s spire set him off course and he missed his target. His hooves fell harmlessly onto the stable‟s floor next to his body. He cursed his folly for that mistake. It was Aidenock‟s intention all along to distract him, for he sprung to his feet like he had not been struck at all. Thor was too slow to react, his mind too cloudy. He tried to ponder Aidenock‟s tactics, but was affected by his presence too much. Aidenock rose up, thrusting his spire into Thor‟s chest. He sunk it deeper and deeper into his flesh, so deep his chest touched his poll. Thor felt weak, felt his life drain away as the horn passed through him. You will never come near me again. Not unless I ask you to. It will be you who shall be the one who submits, Aidenock said. His voice was calm and his

words sent shivers over Thor‟s skin. The muscles on his chest twitched when he pulled away and a torrent of blood gushed from the wound. Thor screamed. The pain seared through him and his legs buckled underneath his own weight. He fell to the floor, like Aidenock had done only moments before. His dark red blood continued to pour from the wound with every beat of his heart. He neighed in agony. Aidenock came to stand over him. Thor‟s blood upon his horn trickled down to his nose and he licked it from himself. You have the taste of a

coward. I think you had better submit to me, your life nothing more than that of my familiars. You are nothing! Thor pushed himself up.

Before he could get up to his hooves proper, Aidenock struck once more. As quick as the lightning Thor had commanded from the heavens, he hit him again with all his might. Aidenock thrust his spire into Thor‟s flank, withdrew it quickly, and then repeated the move, over and over. He screamed like a berserker while he did so, like he revelled in Thor‟s destruction. Thor‟s side was soon covered in deep wounds. The dried blood from the

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Mark Alders dingoes was wet once more, like it were part of his own fresh. Which was true. Thor was covered in his own blood and his life ebbed away with each attack upon him Thor stumbled, then fell to the floor again. His legs gave way and splayed. He was unable to control himself and he hit the stable floor with a crack. He didn‟t get up. Again Aidenock pierced his flesh. His head was completely stained with Thor‟s life fluid, scarlet and dark in contrast to his white, shimmering coat. He laughed as he continued his assault. Now who is nothing? Aidenock said, again his voice serene. Perhaps I

should get my familiar to lick that which rules your head. I know he would do anything for me. That will be the only satisfaction you will receive this night. Thor wheezed for the breath of his life. He was nothing more than a mess of bloodied muscle upon the stable floor. He quivered in fear and submitted to Aidenock. With his head slumped, his will broken and his body ruined, he signalled his defeat. He had disgraced himself.

You have become powerful, Aidenock. Kill me. End my misery then, for I have failed, Thor said, his voice nothing more than a gasp in Aidenock‟s mind, weak as his wounded body that lay helpless before him. Oh, don‟t be so hard on yourself, Aidenock said. His glow when he stood above Thor made his blood soaked coat shine an eerie red in the dark of the stable. I have always been powerful. It was only the banishment of the Elder

circle that weakened me momentarily. You tricked me, Thor said with a rasp. You let me get to you. Let me have you once so I could not resist you now. Yes, you are correct. All part of my plan you see. Do you think I‟m a stupid boor? My body does not rule my mind, as it does with you. That is why the council fears me, banished me from the Keeper‟s land so that I could not pry their power base from underneath them. Then finish me. Make my passing easier. I beg of you. Aidenock moved away from him. His hooves shuffled soft upon the floor. I struck you in places that are not vital to your life. You will live. You will be in pain and suffering, yes. But you will live. Now, get into my stall, cower there like the dog that you are and await my orders.

As Thor struggled to his hooves, Aidenock went to the door of the stable. There he stopped, deep in thought. Thor saw him sniff the air, his spire alight once more. Aidenock began to weave more of his magic.

I said get out of my sight. Your purpose will become apparent when I call

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Unicorn’s Peril for it. I will heal you, one wound at a time. But let this be a lesson to you. Never come to me ill prepared, especially without your spire. Do you think yourself so powerful you are complete without it? Or was it pity you wanted? Thor went into the stall. His breath strained from the short journey and he collapsed into the bedding hay. The flow of blood had stopped, no longer did it seep onto his coat. Aidenock‟s magic had already worked upon him, for the air of the stable was thick with his power. I just wanted you, Thor whimpered.

Then you were the fool. Now you are nothing, not even worthy to be my familiar. Stay there. Move and I will cripple you again. Aidenock took in another lungful of air. They are coming. Who? Thor said with a moan, his voice weak. The pain was too much to

bear, even though he could see Aidenock‟s power all around him and soak into his skin to seal his wounds.

All of them come. My son, my property and the Elder council. Now be quiet. I have to prepare myself. Yes, Aidenock.

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Chapter Thirty-Eight

“T

hey‟re in the sheep pens!” Blake screamed. The sound of the dingoes as they howled and revelled in their carnage disturbed him. “Quick, Savannah. We‟ve got to stop them.” Keallan snarled something incoherent toward the dingoes when he came close to Savannah at full gallop. The beast was so close to her that Blake and Logan could reach out and touch one another. “We must hurry, or there will be nothing left for you to keep at this rate,” Savannah said in reply. Logan shot a concerned look to Blake. “What should we do?” “You two take care of the fucking dingoes. Logan and I will deal with the bastard in the stable,” Keallan said. “Can you handle him, though?” Savannah said. The beat of her hooves over the field matched Keallan‟s so exact that the sound became strange music in the night. “Yes. He‟s gonna throw everything he‟s got at me, but he‟s got no sway over me. Besides, he‟s alone and there are two of us. I‟m more concerned with Logan. He‟s not fully purged of his magic yet.” Logan coughed. “I‟ll be all right.” Savannah nodded. “Very well. We will try and save your livestock. You do what you must, but once we have controlled the dingoes, we will come to the stable.” “Good. I might need a hand to carry out his fucking body,” Keallan retorted. His twisted features warped even more as he spoke of his father, the distain clear upon his face. Keallan peeled away from Savannah‟s side but kept up his pace. He headed straight for the stable. Savannah took a sharp turn to the left, the sheep pens her target. ****

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Unicorn’s Peril “I‟m a little scared, I have to say, Keallan,” Logan said. The weight of the star picket heavy in his grasp.

Logan my sweet. I need you. Come to me. I‟m waiting. I have something very special for you when you get here. You‟ll like it, I promise. “Try to block him from your mind,” Keallan spat. He slowed to a canter. “I know he calls. I can hear him, too.” “You can?” “Yes,” Keallan replied with a wheezing laugh, his breath short. The exertion of the gallop over the field was an obvious strain upon him, for his body was wet with the sweat of his labour. “Think of him as a pitiful, desperate creature, crying out like a baby that wants for the breast. That puts it all in perspective. You are the milk he needs. So don‟t, whatever you do, fucking give in to him. Do not let him drain you, you hear?”

I know what you like. I have plenty more for you, just you see.

Logan screwed up his face. “It‟s hard. But I‟ll try.” “You want to stop before we confront him?” “What for?” Logan said. Genuine surprise lit up his face. His eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened. “Keep going.” “To release more fluid from yourself, of course. To expel more of his poison from your body.” “I don‟t need to go. I‟ve just been.” “Don‟t be such a dumb fucker. There are other ways you can do it, more effective ways,” Keallan said, but his tone was lighter than his usual rasp. “Go and masturbate. You can do it behind the shed over there if you like.” “Um…I don‟t think so.” “Suit yourself,” Keallan said with a quiet chuckle. “But you start licking me when we‟re in the stable and I‟ll rip your dick out by the roots. Clear?” “Yes.” Keallan came to a halt. The stable in front of them was surrounded by a magical shield, but it looked distorted, like the building was immersed in water and they looked at it from the surface. “The bastard protects himself. Bah! What does he think I am? Some love struck pansy-boy unicorn? He insults me in fact.” “What do you mean?” “The shield will be permeable to both of us. We have been given his gift. Both of us have had his power within us.” A dingo came close as Keallan spoke, hackles raised and fangs bared. He lifted his hoof, not even bothering to look upon the animal when he struck. A dull thud, a crack, and a yelp later, the dingo was flat on the floor, its lifeless body ready for the maggots.

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Mark Alders Logan swallowed hard. He looked down at the body of the dingo and felt sorry for it. He knew it wasn‟t the dingo‟s fault he was a pawn of another. “So we can just enter the stable then?” “You take your time, but when you get it, you get it,” Keallan replied. Logan dismounted. He didn‟t reply, but took Keallan‟s words with a grain of salt. In fact, if he didn‟t know any better he‟d swear it was a complement. Logan shrugged his shoulders and forgot about it once he was on his own two feet. “Ready then, Keeper?” Keallan gestured to the stable. Logan nodded. “Yes, Keeper.”

I can feel you close to me, Logan my sweet. How nice you have answered my call, Aidenock said into his mind. His lilting voice, but it no longer aroused

him. It was like a rasp in his thoughts and it annoyed and reminded him of his folly and reinforced his regrets. Remember, you must be unshackled. I will

only reward those that obey without question.

Logan had to stop himself, catch his breath. He realised that his thumbs were tucked under the elastic of his shorts, ready to pull them down. How quickly he was ready to do as Aidenock commanded without question. That thought sent shivers down his spine. “He is…in my head still, Keallan.” “You stay here then if you think yourself unable to resist. Just keep focused and don‟t do fucking anything he asks of you. That will be the first step into the darkness if you do.” Logan saw dingoes come from behind the stable and they moved toward them. Their ears already back and tails down, they snarled, too menacing to tackle alone. “I think I‟ll come with you.” Keallan didn‟t reply, or if he did, Logan couldn‟t hear his words. The beast was already part way into the stable, his human part beyond the stable door. The shield rippled around his bulk when he passed through it, like that of an object that passed into water. The dingoes edged closer, cautious but steady in their approach. One moved away from the others, taking up a point that was a blatant tactic to lead a strike from the side once the others charged. Logan‟s stomach clenched. His head felt light and his hands were clammy as he ran into the stable proper, right behind Keallan, not knowing which evil was worse, that on the outside of the stable or within it. The picket fell from his hand onto the ground when he passed, the object not imbued with his magic.

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Unicorn’s Peril What he was confronted with stopped his heart for a beat. There was another in the stable with Aidenock. A unicorn stood by his side, a beast that looked terrible in his appearance, blood and wounds all over him. The unicorn had a bony stump where his spire should have been, like his horn had been snapped off and was now regrowing, not yet fully formed. Keallan blocked his entrance into the stable so he could only peer over his rump to gaze upon the one that had bewitched him, something he was comfortable to endure for the moment, at least until he could fathom how free he really was from Aidenock‟s magic. Aidenock was stunning, no doubt about it. He was so radiant and so beautiful. His coat, mane and spire, his everything, dazzled Logan. He gasped when his gaze met his. But Aidenock was also poison, a vile creature that used others for his own purpose. Logan knew that. His stomach tightened, but thankfully he didn‟t feel as though he would yearn for him like he once did. He was pleased with himself that he had resisted his call so far, especially being so close.

You have not removed your shackles. Perhaps you should be punished for your disobedience, Aidenock said. He took a step back. The spire-less unicorn was now in front of him. Thor disobeyed me and look at him. Do you want to be a broken man, just as he is now? “Leave Logan out of this, father,” Keallan said. He came forward to stand

only a metre from Thor. The fallen unicorn stood still, unmoving. His eyes dull, his head hung low. Keallan snorted at him, but the unicorn ignored his taunt. “This is between me and you, you know that.” Aidenock moved his head so his mane fell away from his golden eyes. Yes,

you are right. It is between us. But I think you will not be able to resist my charm this time, Keallan my sweet. My magic will once more flow within you.

“Oh, why‟s that?” Before Logan could fathom what had transpired, he felt a tingle at his finger tips and toes, like that of pins and needles. He flexed his hands, but the sensation spread, moved up his hands and feet to consume his arms and legs. Logan gasped as his loins stirred. His mind screamed out, desperate to resist Aidenock‟s hold upon him. He didn‟t want to walk that path again. “Keallan!” Logan called. But Keallan didn‟t respond. Thor had stepped closer to Keallan with a move that was an obvious distraction. The unicorn came to life like a signal unheard had sounded within Aidenock‟s slave. It seemed Aidenock would use Thor against Keallan. That left Logan alone to deal with Aidenock. Logan swallowed hard.

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Mark Alders Because Logan is mine, to do with as I please. It‟s as simple as that.

Keallan wheeled around to face Logan. You move another muscle and I will

force Logan to do my biding. Either you come to me now, Keallan my sweet, or Logan will. It‟s your choice. Now make it quick while I feel generous. I have what you want. You know this.

“I don‟t want anything from you, bastard!” Keallan yelled. But Logan could see on Keallan‟s face that he was concerned. The beast‟s brow was furrowed, so much so that his horn seemed to sink deeper into his folded brow. Again Logan swallowed hard. The sensation that crept up Logan‟s body began to consume him. His chest and torso felt like his arms and legs. The skin prickled and stung with Aidenock‟s magic. Logan yelped and fumbled for the latch on the stable door, desperate to get out, to remove himself from the unicorn‟s sight. He realised he hadn‟t rid his body of enough of his magic, after all. Do not make any attempt to get away, Keeper‟s son, a voice spoke into Logan‟s mind. It was a voice that was distant, sad and lonely, but the voice of Thor. It‟s no use. Just accept what you now are. The property of Aidenock the

Magnificent. Just as I am. Now, my familiar, you will remove your shackles, Aidenock said.

“I will not do as you…say,” Logan replied with a moan, his breath short. He lost sensation over more and more of his body, but most frightening of all, he saw his hands once more at his shorts. “You see, father. Your powers are weak,” Keallan spat. He lowered his head so that his spire pointed at Aidenock.

My power is stronger than you believe. Do you think he could rid of my magic so quickly? You are a fool. Now raise your weapon or the young man will suffer. That is my final warning. I will not speak it again.

Logan felt the power rise up his throat, like he was being strangled. Fingers of energy pressed against his oesophagus and restricted the air flow to his lungs. He found that he had sunk to his knees, his whole body tingled with Aidenock‟s influence. “Resist, Logan. Resist,” Keallan said. He charged. But before Keallan could even come close to Aidenock, Thor slammed into him, protecting Aidenock and pushing him into one of the stalls. The door was all but splinters from the force when they crashed into it and one another. They landed awkwardly onto the bedding hay. Keallan yelped and was winded when Thor‟s bulk fell upon him. He was pinned down in the process. It was then that Thor released his urine from his

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Unicorn’s Peril shaft, and it poured over Keallan until it soaked him. Aidenock‟s magic glowed over the beast‟s coat. Keallan screamed, but fell silent seconds later.

That will be all, my servant.

Thor got off. Keallan‟s body was wet with stinking unicorn‟s urine and his father‟s power.

Now come to me, Keallan my sweet. You want me. I know it. Come and get me. Take out your frustrations. I am here for you.

Keallan got up. He shook his head, like he was trying to remove cobwebs from his mind. What scared Logan the most was the fact that Keallan‟s sheath had relaxed so that he, too, had released his shaft, just like Thor had done. “I don‟t want you,” Keallan said with a gasp.

Perhaps I should have my servant Thor mount you, fill you even more with my magic. You‟d like that, wouldn‟t you? Or perhaps my familiar can do it. Yes, that would be perfect. Infected by your friend. How fitting.

Thor stepped close and placed his muzzle into Keallan‟s rump with tender care. “No!” Keallan screamed. “I would kill him before he rose up off the ground.”

He means nothing to me. Do what you must. But can you kill the young man, too? Do you think me so ill-prepared? Keallan fell silent. He stepped out of the stall and came closer to his father. When he did so Aidenock turned, lifted his tail so that it fell gracefully over his back to expose himself to the beast. Aidenock‟s warmth was ripe for the taking. Keallan looked at Logan, then to his father, then back again. His brow furrowed once more as desperation darkened his face. “Help me,” Logan said with a wheeze, now on all fours. The air from his lungs he used to form the words were but a wisp.

I didn‟t think you could do it. It is you who is weak. But I will make you strong. Now, come to me, my son, Aidenock said, his voice so soft, so sensual that Keallan shook his head once more. I am ready.

“Release Logan,” Keallan whispered, the strain upon his twisted face clear when he spoke. He held his stare upon Logan, his beady eyes pleaded the Keeper for forgiveness, his lips a snarl.

Of course I will, once you have had me. Now, submit. Take me. Our powers must mingle, for we will be strong together. It will be the only way we can defeat the Elder council. “Let him go.” But Keallan‟s words were but a gasp, weak and nothing but a sigh that passed between his teeth.

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Mark Alders But Logan didn‟t feel the clasp of Aidenock‟s power around his neck release. Rather, it intensified. He tried to open his oesophagus more by looking up to the ceiling as he gasped for the air he needed. Taking in the air to survive became more and more difficult with each passing second.

Logan, I will release you. Just do as I have asked. You don‟t want to resist me anymore, do you?

“No. I don‟t.” Logan felt himself take down his shorts. “No!” he cried again. A tear rolled down his cheek. The memories of what he did to Blake filled his mind, consumed his thoughts. But his body was now under the control of Aidenock and he could only witness what he did like he looked at himself from the outside. Shame and guilt was his ally. He was a prisoner in his own body.

Good. I see you made the right decision. Now crawl to Thor, he is waiting for you. I have a promise to keep and I always reward those loyal to me, even my servants.

Logan saw himself move his hand and then his knee. He began to crawl forward robotically, as Aidenock wished. His mind tingled like his body, as Aidenock‟s poison pumped throughout his body to consume his thoughts. His body movements accelerating the magical poison within him. Thor had moved from behind Keallan so he could stand in front of Logan, his shaft released. Logan, too, had found he himself aroused. His cock was fully engorged with blood, his foreskin retracted in preparation for whatever Aidenock had in mind to degrade and enslave him. Logan cried. Tears cascaded down his cheeks. He moved closer and closer to the fallen unicorn. His mind so cloudy, so disorientated, that he couldn‟t fathom what reality was and what was Aidenock‟s will. His thoughts diminished. He has become Aidenock‟s pawn once more, to do with as he pleased. Before Logan sunk deep into the pit of despair that was Aidenock‟s influence, before he came underneath Thor and was shadowed by the unicorn‟s body, he saw Keallan rise up behind his father. He had seen it hundreds of times during his time on the farm. The unmistakable sight of a stallion when he mounted wasn‟t hard to misinterpret. But this was no ordinary mating. It would be a union that would change the course of the farm‟s history. A union that would bring about the birth of pure evil. The beast‟s thick, black shaft, wet with his excitement, touched the spot underneath Aidenock‟s tail. All seemed lost. It was then that Logan‟s vision blurred.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Thirty-Nine

W

hen Savannah and Blake arrived at the first sheep pen there were no dingoes to be seen. They had encountered a few in their travels and dispensed with them. But none were near the sheep. Instead, in the middle of the pen, with mist that swirled around him, there stood Ferran. His body, both equine and man, was touched by the moonlight and it softened his features and the lines of his muscles. He looked different somehow. “Ferran!” Savannah screamed with all her might, every fibre of her being plied into that one word. She rose up to a gallop to be by his side. Blake was surprised to see the centaur. To have him here instead of the carnage he had expected to witness seemed strange. The thought of not having to put down maimed sheep or bury the dead in a ditch was more relief upon him than he realised. And he sighed to release that relief. But Ferran didn‟t reply to Savannah‟s call, even though he acknowledged them. He raised his head so that his eyes, somewhat cold, were fixed upon his wife. Savannah stopped dead. It was only then, now closer and at the gate of the pen, the mist dissipating, that they saw the rope that bound Ferran‟s hands and fetlocks. Blake dismounted, disturbing the settling dust created by Savannah‟s sudden halt. “Ferran. We‟re here now,” Blake said. “We‟ll have you out of here in a jiffy, don‟t you worry.” Savannah placed her hand upon his shoulder to stop him. “Don‟t, Blake.” Blake turned to her. So many questions wheeled in his mind. “Why not?” “It‟s a trap,” she whispered. Her face had drained white and her eyes, the look of hurt within them, didn‟t leave her husband. The mists that swirled thin and wispy around Ferran coalesced. At first the haze thickened so that it resembled white smoke, like that from chimney stacks that fuelled the fires of industry. Then, an unfelt force or wind swirled the smoke together and it became even more solid until it bore mass.

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Mark Alders Twelve unicorns and a boy were born from the once weightless mist. They surrounded Blake and Savannah. “Josh!” Blake blurted. Red dirt flung onto his boots when he dropped the star picket. But he couldn‟t move, realising he was still held in Savannah‟s grip. Her tight hold upon him made him think twice about going to Josh. “He is not the boy you once knew, Blake. Do you remember what he did at the Waters of Truth?” Savannah said. She leaned close to him so that those out of ear-shot wouldn‟t be able to hear her words of caution. “Then who is he?” Blake whispered. “I am no longer the one you call Josh,” the boy said. He must have heard them speak. But the boy‟s voice was no longer that which belonged to a pre-pubescent boy. Rather, it carried a weight far greater than any Blake had heard. It was like the voice was of many, not just one. “He is the voice, the puppet of the Elder council, remember,” Savannah added. “I am the will of the Elder council, a manifestation in flesh created by their wisdom. That is what I am and you would do well to heed our words,” the boy said. The boy came toward them, his walk strange, like his gait was deliberate and controlled. A light, the source of which was unknown, surrounded the boy like an aureole. The light dazzled and amazed, yet was rather bizarre as Blake looked at what the boy did. He couldn‟t help but stare with his mouth agape. The boy stopped a pace away from Ferran. He reached out his hand, an intense luminosity pulsating from his fingertips. When the boy‟s hand touched Ferran‟s equine back, the centaur convulsed, his hind legs quivered and he fell to the ground like he had been put to sleep. The whole incident happened without sound, other than that of the centaur‟s body hitting the dirt. The rope around his limbs made his fall awkward. Then, the smell of burnt flesh came strong to Blake‟s nostrils. But the stench wasn‟t from Ferran. The wind, not even a wisp, couldn‟t have carried it to him so quick. Blake realised Savannah had let him go. He turned to her, finding the strength within him to tear his gaze away from the boy and the light he was surrounded by. A handprint, red raw and like a brand, was on her back, too, in exactly the same location as Ferran‟s mark. Savannah had shared the brunt of the light‟s sting with her husband. Their bond they shared able to let them perform such a task.

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Unicorn’s Peril Blake swallowed hard. “What are you doing, Josh?” “The will of the Elder council.” Before Blake could utter another word, even in protest, the boy once more laid his hand upon Ferran. This time Savannah screamed. Her limbs flailed as the intense heat came down on her like it did her husband. Blake fell to his knees by Savannah‟s side, reaching out to comfort her. But she had passed out. Her limbs were twisted, her body a heap upon the ground and the handprint stark upon her coat. Blake couldn‟t help but be sickened by the two wounds upon her. They were severe, deep and blistered, and he winced at the sight of them. He was furious for what the council had made the boy do. Whether the will of the council or not, the torture inflicted upon them both was unjustified and uncalled for. Blake‟s mind clouded in anger and he saw red. “Why?” Blake screamed, his face flushed, feeling the blood pump through his temples until they throbbed. “Because we will rid this land of those that oppose us.” “How did she ever oppose you?” Blake said. He sprung to his feet, holding up Thor‟s horn as he did so. “She didn‟t.” Blake glared at the golden haired boy, the one he once knew as a likeable lad, carefree and full of life. Not now. Now he was filled with malcontent, with hatred. The boy‟s eyes were dark, like the depths of despair had infected them. “What do you mean? Tell me!” “You have opposed us.” Blake recoiled. “I don‟t understand.” The boy once more reached out and touched Ferran. The light struck his back, the hiss of the centaur‟s burning flesh the only sound. But this time it was not Savannah that bore the brunt of the magical fire. It was Blake. Savannah couldn‟t willingly bear any attack if unable to register cognitive thought and Blake yelped in agony. His back felt as though it were ablaze and he was pushed by a force unseen. He tripped over himself, eating the dirt and writhing on the ground while Josh kept his hand in place upon Ferran. “You see now why we had to get rid of the female, don‟t you?” Ferran remained silent, for he was the protector of the circle. He wasn‟t able to utter complaint or able to resist the will of his masters. Not so for Blake. His screams were raw and they echoed across the fields of the farm. “You harbour the outcast,” Josh said. “Give him to us and you will be

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Mark Alders acquitted of that which you are accused.” Blake couldn‟t move. He was pinned to the ground by the force he couldn‟t understand or explain. “I can‟t…give him to you,” he said. His voice a hiss, like the skin that cooked on his and Ferran‟s back under the light of the boy‟s hand. “You will deliver him or both of your friends will die. You only kill them yourself by your disobedience.” He removed his hand and smoke lifted up with it. “Do you want that to happen, illegitimate son of the Keeper?” Blake whimpered in agony, distressed by the magic that had burned his flesh. The smell of his own skin cooking had reached his nose and he retched in reaction. His stomach convulsed and he had to stop himself from heaving. “I don‟t know how to give him to you.” “You have been filled with his power. We can smell it upon you. You will fetch him without question,” the boy added. His lips had tightened and he spoke those words with his teeth pressed together. Blake could only assume his expression was some sort of sadistic smile, giddy with power. The unicorns of the Elder council moved to close in around Blake. They stopped only metres away from him. Their cordon had tightened. “And when…I get him for you…what then?” Josh‟s hands lit up once more. “We will destroy him. Then, once he has been struck from this Earth, we will seek out the abomination he helped create.” “Keallan? But why?” “Aidenock was once on the council, once one of us. When he fell for the centaur Beaudan, he became spoiled, his will that to supplant us, to weaken our power because together they used their magic to create the beast and his sister. It was obviously centaur doing, for no unicorn would willingly defy us. Keallan is a product of Aidenock‟s fall from grace and therefore an enemy of the council.” Blake spat dirt from his mouth. The weight of his pain had weakened his legs, but he managed to get up to his knees. Defiantly, he said, “You‟re scared of him.” “We fear nothing.” “I think…you do.” Blake struggled to his feet and managed to pick up the star picket he had dropped earlier. Having no choice. He couldn‟t see where the horn had fallen. Hiding the picked behind himself, he continued to get up, using the gatepost for support. Blake‟s back was numb. The searing heat he felt earlier had dulled, yet still weakened him. With a cold sweat upon his brow, the red dirt stuck to his

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Unicorn’s Peril face and exposed skin, he was finally upright. He panted from the exertion, but was able to face the council and their puppet under the weight of his own strength. He was proud of himself. The council‟s power hadn‟t worked to stop him. Blake sucked in his stomach and stood tall. “Enough of this petty discussion,” the boy said. His voice rose in register to become impatient and harsh. “Bring us the outcast or your friends will feel the wrath of our justice.” Blake felt the metal of the picket behind his back and he rubbed his thumb along the groove of it. He tested the weight of the pike in his hand. He smiled. “I have a gift for you, Josh,” Blake said. “I will give it to you. Then, and only then, will I fetch Aidenock.” “Give it to us. But be quick.” Blake pushed himself away from the gate post, giving himself the momentum to move forward. He staggered, awkward in his gait, toward the boy. Then, when he regained his footing, he proceeded to move into the pen proper. Blake moved faster and faster until he was able to gain enough speed for an uncomfortable scuttle. His back muscles were taught, for his burned skin pulled around the wound. This unfortunate fact made him unable to run with any grace. But that didn‟t bother him. He made headway and that was all that mattered. The boy, the speaker of the Elder council, was his target. He didn‟t want to become an instrument of the council, like Logan had become Aidenock‟s tool. Blake had a new purpose and his eyelids narrowed as he concentrated on the path he chose to take, the path that could inevitably end his life but hopefully save Ferran and Savannah in the process. If he were able to remove Josh from their grasp, then they wouldn‟t be able to yield him as their weapon. Blake didn‟t want to harm the boy, but, as he saw with Savannah, if the boy was rendered unconscious, then that would be just as effective. He couldn‟t be a puppet with broken strings. When Blake came close to the boy and he wheeled his hand around to reveal the picket, the boy‟s hands ignited again. The light extended out, like ethereal fingers. “You are a fool if you think you can defy us!” Josh screamed. The light hit Blake and his skin boiled over his flesh where it kissed him. He screamed in out in anguish until his voice was hoarse, the pain excruciating. Blake stumbled. Unable to control where he fell, the force of the light so great, he came upon one of the unicorns that encircled him. His skin

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Mark Alders melted around the metal of the picket, but it struck something hard. Blake screamed in pain again as the picket was ripped from his hand. He managed to turn his head to look upon what he had struck. Confused, in agony and shocked, he saw that the picket had been thrust deep inside the chest of a unicorn of the Elder council. All Blake saw after that was white light, like a flare had exploded in his face. He was blinded. The intensity of the flash, even with his eyes closed and his arm shielding his face, was unbearable. His eyes stung and stars scintillated in his vision. When he was able to see again, now flat on his back, he turned his head to where he thought the unicorn should have been. He saw the boy slumped over the body of the unicorn, holding onto it. Reeling from the pain of his wounds, Blake watched in disbelief when the boy merged with the dead creature. A light once more burst forth to blind. Blake‟s vision blurred once more like it had only a few moments ago from the flare. But this time it was different. This time, once the flare faded, he witnessed a re-birth. The unicorn and the boy were one. The unicorn Blake had struck down then rose up. It stood tall once more before it joined its brethren, the circle of unicorns that surrounded Blake complete again. Blake managed to get up to his knees again. He coughed and spluttered, trying to make his way over to Savannah. He hoped she was all right. You will pay for that. Blake heard in his mind. The voice was that of the boy, the boy that was the voice of the Elder council, not of the boy he once knew and loved like a brother. Blake realised the voice came from the unicorn he had struck with the picket. His weapon was blood soaked and on the ground at the unicorn‟s hooves. “It wasn‟t my fault. I only wanted to—” Enough! Truth was dear to us, the boy said, his spire alight. But no matter.

I have taken over. I am now one of the Elder council, for that was their will. You will address me by my new name. I am Liberty! “What?” Blake said with a gasp.

Now you will be judged for your crime. When Liberty spoke those words, Ferran jumped up and the Elder council‟s bodies blurred to create a wall of light around Blake. Now you will fight our protector. The loser will pay with his life, the winner will be redeemed in our eyes. The circle of justice will pass judgement. Begin!

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Unicorn’s Peril Ferran screamed, like that of a cry of war. The centaur‟s face was both twisted and menacing and he charged forward. Blake, not yet on his feet, could do nothing but wait for the centaur to strike him down. He had nowhere to go. The council‟s sick justice would be served. Blake closed his eyes.

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Mark Alders

Chapter Forty

K

eallan didn‟t sink his shaft into Aidenock‟s warmth, not yet. Instead, he touched him there. When he did so, he heard Logan moan. “Is this what you want, father?”

Yes, Keallan my sweet. Soon we will be powerful. Soon we will be able to rule this land together. To challenge the council and their archaic ways. With you by my side, loyal to me, there will be nothing that can stop us. The Elder council only concerns itself with trivial things, meddling in the affairs of others. But not us, Keallan. We will make sure those who have been treated unfairly are given our compassion. “You mean like my other father Beaudan?” He is among one of the many. Yes, he replied. He arched his back so that Keallan would know he wanted him to begin, take him and claim him as his own. The beast shivered. He wouldn‟t enter him. Not if he could implement his plan before he had to, anyway. Keallan reached out his hands. With a touch so gentle, so careful and with his fingers pressed against his father‟s back like kisses over his coat, he moved his hands up his mane. Up and up until he touched his poll.

You know what pleases me, Keallan my sweet.

“I certainly do,” he whispered. He grabbed Aidenock‟s spire. Aidenock‟s horn became ablaze as soon as the pressure of his touch contacted it. Keallan‟s fingers glowed red, the light penetrated them, like they were held up to a flashlight. We will be the rulers of this land, he said, his voice soft and sensual in his mind, like that of silk over skin. Aidenock tried to manoeuvre so that Keallan would have no choice but to enter him. Keallan resisted as delight washed over him. Delight his father deliberately infused into his being. Keallan‟s face didn‟t reflect the delight his body received. He winced. His motions were deliberate while he massaged his hands up and down his father‟s spire, milking the power from him. Aidenock‟s magic radiated brighter and brighter the more he rubbed.

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Unicorn’s Peril Keallan stopped, glad he had not succumb to his father‟s sick wish. “Only the Keepers rule this land, you fucking whore,” Keallan screamed. Suddenly, he pulled his hands off Aidenock‟s spire and clenched them tight so they were meaty fists. Keallan, as quick as lightning, bought his hands down upon the back of his head, just behind his horn. With all the strength he could muster, he struck his father, letting out a blood curdling cry as he did so. The strike of his blow reverberated around the stable. Aidenock‟s spire dimmed as he was struck into unconsciousness. When he fell onto the stable floor in a heap, Keallan spat on him so that his saliva splattered over his father‟s coat. The beast‟s mood lightened and he cried out. He ejaculated. His thick, white seed spurted out harmlessly onto the stable floor by Aidenock‟s hooves. He had resisted him. He had succeeded and that pleased him to no end. “There, you got my semen, father. Do whatever the fuck you like with it,” Keallan said. He licked his lips of his spittle. “I‟m needed by ones with more honour than you‟ll ever possess. Besides, I have a farm to help manage. I am something. I don‟t need you to make me complete.” Keallan turned to face Thor, only to see Logan flat on his stomach underneath the unicorn, unconscious. “Now get Logan to safety before my father comes to.” Why should I help you? Thor said. But his voice wavered and his tail swished, as a sure sign of his anxiety. “Because if you don‟t I‟ll use my horn to fuck you up, that‟s why. So get him out of here, clear? And that wasn‟t a request, it was an order.” Keallan‟s voice was filled with contempt for the fallen unicorn. Thor backed away, head down. I will do as you ask, for you are truly

powerful, Beast. To resist Aidenock is something I could not do.

Keallan snorted. “It‟s not over yet. He‟s going to be pissed when he comes to. And I don‟t want any distraction if I am to tackle him on equal terms. Get me? Now go and don‟t come into my sight again. If you do I will kill you, you can be assured of that.” Thor lowered his head and nudged his muzzle under Logan‟s stomach. Logan moaned. Come with me, Keeper‟s son. Logan‟s eyelids opened and again he groaned. “Go with Thor, for he has sworn to protect you,” Keallan said.

I did no such thing, Beast!

“I think you did actually. Otherwise I can arrange for my father to finish off what he fucking started on your sorry hide.”

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Mark Alders Thor didn‟t reply. Logan lifted his arm to clasp his hand tight onto Thor‟s mane. He climbed up onto Thor‟s back, his movements painful and slow. As soon as Logan was upon Thor proper, the unicorn charged out of the stable, passing through the shield like it wasn‟t even there. “Now the time has come,” Keallan whispered through his twisted teeth. He wheeled around to look once more at his father. He was conscious and he had pulled himself back up onto his hooves. “We will end this once and for all.” **** Blake, in his pain induced stupor, heard hooves come closer and closer. Then, surprisingly, he felt himself rise up. He was lifted from the ground as a child would be by their parent. He opened his eyelids. The one responsible for holding him was Ferran. The centaur‟s hands pressed hard against his sides, adding sharp twinges to the nauseating blanket of pain Blake felt from the burnt flesh of his back. The centaur carried Blake high above his head to hold him like he were a trophy. The centaur charged. “I‟m sorry, Blake. But this is the only way to save you. Forgive me.” Ferran let out a blood curdling yell, again like that of a battle cry he screamed out earlier. Moments later, the centaur threw Blake over the wall of light that made up the circle of justice. Blake saw the stars and ground turn before him many times before he struck the dirt with a bone crunching thump. His arm caught under the weight of his body when he came down and it snapped. He yelped in agony and pain flared through every fibre of his being. He was in disbelief as to what had transpired, but ultimately out of immediate harm from the machinations of the Elder council. Blake couldn‟t move. Flat on his stomach upon the dead grass that surrounded the pen, his eyes fixed on the light that was the creation of the Elder council, the circle Ferran was still within. The circle closed in around the centaur. A blast of light shot out, like an explosion from within had been ignited. The light flared up to form a plume higher than the tallest eucalyptus on the farm. Blake heard Ferran scream, more desperate than his battle cry. The centaur‟s shrill voice pierced the night and rang in Blake‟s ears.

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Unicorn’s Peril Then the fountain of light was gone. “Ferran,” Blake said, his register no more than a wheeze, for pain still consumed him. But Blake couldn‟t go to Ferran, to answer his friend‟s call. He couldn‟t even manage a crawl. Blake felt helpless as he lay burned, battered and wounded on the grass and he cursed himself. His friend needed him. **** Logan felt his body rise and fall against Thor‟s back even though the cushion was present. The unicorn‟s power was weak. Thor not yet recovered from Aidenock‟s influence. Logan knew how Thor felt, for he, too, felt drained. It was like millions of leeches had sucked the blood from his body to sap his life force. He had a headache, like one he had never felt before in his life, right at the back of his head, like he had been struck there by something large and heavy. “What happened?” Logan said, trying to sit upright. He‟d only now noticed his nakedness.

You are Aidenock‟s familiar. What happened to him happened to you as well, Thor said.

Logan could feel Aidenock‟s magic weaken the further Thor travelled away from the stable. His body, even though it still scintillated with the unicorn‟s power, began to respond to his own thoughts once more. He could move his feet, turn his head and feel his hands. The joy of this revelation overwhelmed him and a lump formed in his throat. “That didn‟t answer my question,” Logan said with a strain, his throat tight, a part not yet fully under his own control. I have no time for petty— But the unicorn cut himself off. Up ahead, at the place Thor galloped to with all his haste, there was a bright light. It lit up the night sky, but was gone as quick as it had come. The Elder council! “Blake!” Logan screamed, knowing Savannah and his brother had gone to the sheep pens to fight off the dingoes. “Take me there, Thor. I have to see if my brother is all right. Quick, before I fall under Aidenock‟s influence again.” You will not become his again for some time, Thor retorted. He will draw

in all his power, for he needs his strength to manipulate his son to his cause. “I don‟t care, just get me over there.”

Who are you to tell me what to do? Why should I listen to you, human familiar? But Thor kept up his gallop. He travelled to the source of the light that had stained the sky only moments ago.

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Mark Alders Logan paused. His thoughts were a jumble as he worried about not only Blake, but Savannah as well. “Because I am the Keeper and you will obey me, that‟s why.” The words sounded hasty, for they came off the top of his head. He could think of nothing else to say to convince the unicorn. He was desperate to get the fallen unicorn to help him. Thor slowed his pace, coming to a halt as quick as he had risen to a gallop. The Keeper? But the one with the name of Jack is the Keeper. Don‟t try

and trick me, for I will leave you here to your own devices.

“I‟m speaking the truth. The—he, he…died,” Logan said. Sadness had crept into his words because he was forced to think of his dad, something he didn‟t want right now. There was a time for everything. Right now, in this moment, his brother needed him. His friends needed him.

How?

Logan became overwhelmed. The emotion he had struggled to fend off got the better of him. There was so much conflict within him. A tear fell down his cheek from his watery eyes. “The twelve unicorns did it.” Thor snorted and a puff of condensation came out of his nostrils. He charged again. Logan had to grapple onto Thor‟s neck, for he almost slipped from his back. The cushion didn‟t hold him as well as Keallan‟s had and he had misjudged the creature‟s acceleration.

I will take you to your brother, Keeper. But that is the end of my tie. My commitment to you will finish once I have completed your wish. Understand? “Good enough for me.” ****

Blake heard the thunder of hooves again, this time behind him, but coming closer. But he couldn‟t turn to see who approached. His mind spun and his thoughts became blurred. Confusion settled in his mind, for he was so overwhelmed with hurt he struggled to keep a grasp on reality. He then felt another by his side. Not a creature. Not an animal. But one that belonged to a touch that was both gentle and reassuring upon his forehead. “Blake, what happened?” He heard a voice say, ringing in his ears that already buzzed with pain. “Is that you, Loges?” Blake then spluttered. Blood dribbled from his lips, the taste of himself on his tongue terrible as he tried to form the words. Your brother is not long for this Earth. He must get treatment. Blake

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Unicorn’s Peril didn‟t recognise the voice of the other, but he did know the voice was in his mind. The only creature that could perform such a thing was a unicorn. “W-what are you doing with a u-unicorn, Logan?” Again his voice was slow and his words slurred as his mouth filled with blood. He spat again. “Then help me! We must get him to the Waters of Truth as quick as possible,” the voice that sounded like Logan said. This time desperation imbued his words.

I have completed the arrangement you dealt, Keeper. No longer am I bound to you.

“But you must! You have to. I am the Keeper. I order it,” Logan shrieked. Blake felt his brother hold him, his hands upon him so that he could pull him up from the ground.

I will not. I have done as you asked. You cannot order me to do anything other than that which I have completed. We had a deal. “Don‟t walk away from me, you coward!”

Then I am a coward. But one that will live another day. I bid you farewell, Keeper. „Till we meet again. There was silence, the only sound that of distant dingoes barking. “Stay with me, Loges. Don‟t…leave me.” Logan smoothed his hand over his brother‟s forehead, for he now cradled Blake‟s head in his arms. Blake could see the stars and constellations behind Logan as he looked up to his brother. It was beautiful sight. The magnificence of the Milky Way was a spectacle to witness out in the bush without the glare of city lights to pollute the atmosphere. “I will stay with you forever, Blake.” Blake coughed. The blood in his mouth spattered over Logan‟s fair skin. “I don‟t want to die.” “You won‟t. I promise you that.” Again silence. Then, taking Blake by surprise, Logan began to cry. His brother‟s hot salty water dripped onto his cheeks. He could then feel the tears roll off his chin and drip onto his tattered T-shirt. “You won‟t die.” Logan pulled Blake off the ground. “I will carry you to the spring myself if I have to.” “I‟m…s-sorry, Loges.” “What for?” Logan said. His voice cracked, the strain of his emotion and the weight he was burdened with evident in his words. “Don‟t you dare apologise. Not for anything.” “I didn‟t w-want to stay on the…the farm,” Blake replied. His eyes felt

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Mark Alders heavy. Logan‟s face grew dark and his brother‟s words all but a whisper to his ears. Blake was no longer able to feel any pain, or any part of himself for that matter. He found that a comfort. “You can do what you want when you are healed. If you want to leave, you can leave. As long as you are happy, Blake. That‟s all that matters.” “I want…to…stay.” “I would like that,” Logan replied. Again more tears ran down his face to fall upon his brother. “I love you…L-Loges. Remember that,” Blake said in-between coughs. Blood had once more filled his mouth. “And I love you.” Logan pressed his forehead to his brothers. “You cannot die, mate. I need you. You‟re my strength. My guide. I don‟t know what I‟d do without you. Besides, it is me that should be sorry. Look what I did? I feel so ashamed. I should never have saved that unicorn. Then none of this would have happened.” Again the sound of hooves filled Blake‟s ears. “And I will make sure he does live so that he can stay on the farm, if that is what the Keeper wishes,” a female voice said, a welcome voice Blake recognised. It belonged to Savannah. Logan twisted around and Blake saw the centaur behind him. Her face, too, was stained with tears. “Savannah, w-what happened…to, to Ferran?” Blake said, using all of his strength to muster the words from his weakening will. “My beloved has been…turned…to stone. The Elder council‟s justice has been served,” she said. Her shoulders shuddered and she burst into tears, cupping her hands over her face while she wept. Savannah then looked up and she wiped her wet eyes and cheeks with her arm. “But we have more pressing matters to attend to. We must get Blake to the Waters of Truth as quick as we can. Logan, place him onto my back. Come with us, for you can help me place him into the water when we get there. We must ride like the wind. I want no more guilt this night. No others must fall.” “Thank…you, S-Savannah,” Blake said when Logan placed him onto the magical cushion that was already alight upon her equine back. Blake‟s head nestled between the shoulder blades of her human back and he was able to hear her heartbeat, a comfort to him as he gasped for breath, as his vision darkened to match the night around them. Once Logan was in place she bolted from the farm, rising up to a gallop in an instant.

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Unicorn’s Peril

Chapter Forty-One

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eallan faced his father, his head low so that his spire pointed at him. Moonlight that streamed in from the stable‟s windows and Aidenock‟s glow, illuminated the spire so that it looked more like polished ironore upon his head. His horn shined, but had a darkness that had depth.

You have grown stronger than I would have ever imagined, Keallan my sweet. I am proud of you, Aidenock said, not yet upright. His stance was no longer tall and stern and proud as before. He staggered, still overcome by Keallan‟s fists that came down upon his head. But Keallan wasn‟t concerned with his wellbeing. “That‟s fucking nothing,” Keallan bellowed. He charged forward. “I have plenty more for you, I promise.” Keallan, with all the might he could gather, plunged his horn into Aidenock‟s flank before he could move from his path. He screamed with delight as he sunk it deeper and deeper, grabbing his father‟s back and using his hands to lever his horn in more and more. He pulled his head forward, closer and closer so that he was forehead deep in his father‟s flesh. Aidenock screamed in agony into his mind as well as neighing so that his agony echoed around the stable. Keallan‟s mind was ablaze with the pain he inflicted upon him and that pleased him more than anything. Aidenock bucked and kicked to try and free himself, to no avail. In response Keallan pushed his spire in deeper and deeper. Keallan‟s rage and delight fuelled his strength and knew no boundaries. He wanted his father dead. You must let me go. We must work together if we are to survive. His voice was pale and insignificant in his mind, like that of a mosquito, a voice not worthy of his attention other than to swat from existence. Keallan wouldn‟t let him go, no matter how much he begged. His intended target was his father‟s chest. To smite him in one move, to pierce his heart to kill him in an instant, was his ultimate goal. But Keallan was satisfied with the outcome of this strike in his father‟s side. Aidenock‟s

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Mark Alders blood from the gore wound, even though he was still inside him, poured out onto the unicorn‟s coat and ran down to his belly like a river that coursed to the sea. Aidenock‟s blood stained his side bright red and Keallan could smell his life fluid, copper in his nostrils. It thrilled him. He laughed, “You will die, bastard! By my hand and by mine alone.” Keallan kept his horn inside him. He dug his fingernails deep into his flesh, like an anchor, as he moved his head from side to side. Keallan‟s spire gouged and sliced his father‟s internal organs. Seconds later, Aidenock collapsed. Keallan let him go so he could watch him fall. His horn slid out of him with ease as he dropped to the floor, the stain of his father all over him. Aidenock‟s coat lost its luminescence. We would have been good together, Keallan my— But he couldn‟t finish his words. His body shuddered and a great pool of blood formed on the floor around him. His insides were ruined. His body was weak from his attack and his face twisted in pain. Keallan had defeated the great and powerful Aidenock. “I will be great without you,” Keallan spat. “Now get up, let me finish you off quickly. Let me put you out of your misery, whore.” The shield will fall, he said, his voice broken. He tried to get back up onto his hooves, but his hind legs couldn‟t support him, nothing but dead weights under his broken body. “What do I care? Let it fall.” Aidenock gasped. He exposed his chest to Keallan. At first he thought it was defiance. Then, as he saw the look in his father‟s eyes, Keallan realised he offered himself to him. If you kill me now the Elder council will come. They

are here now, I can see it in my vision. But I can still help you even though you hate me so much you would smite me from this Earth.

“You lie. You‟ll say anything to save your sorry arse.” Keallan‟s eyelids narrowed as he tried to work out his father‟s intention. But before the next few beats of his heart, he had decided and he came down upon Aidenock once more. He propelled his spire into his chest. His lung skewered when he did so. The result of his attack caused dark blood to pour from his gaping, gasping mouth.

Why?

“This is for Logan and all the others you have tarnished with your hate over the years.” You…are…glorious, he stammered. But…you must…be saved. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Keallan removed himself from his

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Unicorn’s Peril father and again his filth came out to dirty everything, his white coat included. Once more Aidenock shuddered. His head flailed about wildly as he writhed in agony. His tongue flopped about in his open mouth as he neighed and whinnied in distress. Keallan‟s mind was filled with his pain, for he screamed into him the more he hurt. Keallan‟s face was covered in him. His blood was everywhere. He could taste it, smell it, feel it and now it sickened him. He spluttered blood from his mouth, spraying it over his father‟s sorry hide. An intense burst of light flooded through the stable windows.

They…are…here.

To Keallan‟s surprise Aidenock‟s coat shimmered with his power. A light formed around him, sporadically, but enough to stop the flow of blood from his wounds. Aidenock pushed himself up so he could stand. Keallan stared while his father rose to his hooves and walked with an awkward gait toward the stable door. Aidenock passed him without so much as a glance. He was unable to believe the unicorn could even move after his attacks, his mouth agape. Keallan was taken aback. “What are you doing?” Aidenock‟s coat continued to shimmer, the last sparks of his power used to propel him onwards. I will ride out, sacrifice myself…for you. For you

are…truly powerful. I have done one thing right while I have walked this Earth. That was to create…you. Now, with my…dying…breath, I will save you. I love you, Son.

“I don‟t want your fucking pity,” Keallan boomed. Anger boiled up inside him and darkened his disposition. But he didn‟t follow. He now knew his father clung to the last thread of his life and it was only the last flicker of his magic that kept him alive. His body was nothing more than an animated cadaver, moving because he used everything he had within him to do so. The shield fell.

Goodbye, Keallan my sweet. You are my legacy.

The unicorn walked awkward and zombie-like, his wounds too great upon him. But he marched on, almost in defiance. Aidenock left the stable. A light with an intensity that made Keallan shield his eyes burst from the darkness outside the stable. It illuminated everything around him as it flooded in through the open doorway of the stable. From that light twelve unicorns formed in front of his father in a line. They waited for him to come to them. The Elder councils‟ spires ignited, brighter than the light they were carried upon. Another light, softer and not as harsh, came out from one of the

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Mark Alders unicorns to touch Aidenock, envelop him. The moment it did so he vaporised. Keallan stood, fixed to the spot. The Elder council then disappeared with another brilliant flash of light. The ground where Aidenock once stood smouldered. “Goodbye, father.” **** Savannah screamed while she galloped into the clearing that held the Waters of Truth within it. Her speed had never slowed and as she came upon the shore she fell into the water with a splash that soaked the soil far from the pool. Logan and Blake were flung from her back into the water as her cushion of magic dissipated. She knew she only had seconds before Blake passed from this life. His breaths upon her back she hardly felt when she turned the corner that bought them into the grove. Savannah didn‟t want to take any chances, to carry him into the healing water of the spring may have wasted too much time. Time she knew he didn‟t have. Submerged hock deep, she turned. To her joy she saw Blake splutter and cough as his life drew back into him. Logan held him tight and cradled his head so that it remained above the water. The rest of Blake‟s body floated, spayed out as his body soaked in the healing powers of the spring. Blake opened his eyes and looked upon his brother. He smiled, a smile which lit up his face. “I see you couldn‟t wait to get your clothes off again, Loges,” he said before he burst out into laughter. His eyes glistened with the fires of hope. Logan and Savannah, too, laughed. The mood was jovial as they splashed about in the pool under the moonlight. They revelled in the restorative power of the pool. Savannah‟s flesh felt the benefit of the water, for Liberty‟s brand mark was also upon her, like it was Blake. “Even though Blake is out of danger, he will take a long time to heal. He was very close to death,” Savannah said. She examined Blake, a warm smile upon her soft lips. “You‟re not wrong. The burn on my back is killing me,” Blake said. He removed his wet T-shirt. His arms tangled around his head and it was a few moments before he freed himself from the soaked cloth. “Let me see,” Logan added. Savannah nodded.

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Unicorn’s Peril Blake turned around. Under the soft glow of the moonlight the two hand prints Liberty gave him were striking. They marred his back, like he had indeed been branded. “What happened?” Logan said. “The wounds are deep and of magical creation. They will take time to heal. You will have to come here often, especially over the next few days,” Savannah said. “I think I should be asking you the same question, Loges. What happened to you?” Logan dismissed his brother‟s concern with a wave of his hand. “Never mind that. I can tell you later. It‟s Keallan that will need us now, for he was under Aidenock‟s spell the last I remember.” Savannah gasped. “We must ride to the farm! Quick, my friends!” **** Blake noticed that all of the lights of the farm were on, even those inside the house. Terrible thoughts crossed his mind, but he tried to dismiss them until he knew for certain what had transpired while he was gone. When they came up to the homestead they saw Keallan standing outside the stable doors. He was alone and looked pleased with himself. The unitaur made an impressive silhouette in front of the homestead lights, his shadow casting long across the grass. Savannah thundered up to him, then halted. The earth kicked up by her hooves surrounded them all in a cloud of fine dust. “About time you got here,” Keallan said. “You missed out on all the fun.” “Where‟s Aidenock?” Savannah said. She panted from all the galloping she had done tonight. Her body was covered in sweat and grime, her blonde hair plastered about her face. Keallan‟s lips formed a smile, an ugly smile, but one that conveyed his happiness nonetheless. “He‟s dead, thank fuck,” Logan sighed relief. “So I am safe?” Keallan nodded. “You are safe, my friend.” Savannah turned and began to walk away. “Where you going, Savannah?” Blake said. He touched her on her rump, her coat clammy under his hand. “I want to be with Ferran tonight,” she replied with sadness. She didn‟t turn to look at them. Blake removed his hand. He let her go, for he knew that she was crying. Her shoulders rose and fell, hardly noticeable, but enough to tell him that she

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Mark Alders was upset. She needed time to mourn for her husband. “I understand. Pass on my thanks to him. He saved my life.” “I will,” she said, her voice all but a croak from her lips. While they watched Savannah leave, her form meld into the darkness, Keallan placed his hands upon their shoulders. Not a word was spoken for a long time between them. Finally, Blake said. “Where do you want to sleep, Keallan? You‟re welcome to stay right here in the house with us, you know that.” “I hadn‟t thought of that. I-I—” Keallan coughed, hesitated, then wiped his eyes. “Damn dust, I‟ve got it in my eye now.” Blake smiled. He knew that Keallan was also overcome with emotion. The great beast, the feared one, the one that defeated Aidenock, injured Thor and defied the Elder council, was more human than anyone gave him credit for. To Blake, just as he was with his dad, Keallan was a mate. Nothing more, nothing less. “Where ever you want to stay is fine with me,” Logan said. “I will stay in the stable for now. More my style I think.” “Then I will stay with you tonight, if that‟s okay,” Logan added. He turned to face Keallan. “No worries. Just put some fucking clothes on, Logan.” Keallan said with a chortle, one that echoed in the still of the night. “I‟m sick of looking at your dick.” “I‟ll join you,” Blake said. “We will all stay in the stable tonight.” “I would be honoured.” Keallan entered the stable, his hooves clomping on the floor as he proceeded down the walk. Blake touched Logan on his shoulder. “There‟s something I need to know, Logan.” “Sure, what is it?” “I want to know if you‟ll help me get Josh back. And if I can‟t, if it is impossible, „cause I know he‟s now a unicorn, I need you to be with me when I tell Valerie.” “Of course, anything you want. You know that.” Blake sighed in relief. “Thank you.” Keallan turned. “It would be difficult. But magic changed him into what he has become and magic can therefore reverse it as well. I think there may be a way to set him free, for he is not only the Elder councils‟ strongest link. He is also their weakest.” “So…if we break the link?” Blake said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Then all will come tumbling down for them. But do not misunderstand.

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Unicorn’s Peril It will not be an easy task. They will be their strongest together.” “Then we must think of a way to get him alone,” Blake said, his eyebrows rose. He was pleased there was at least a small hope, no matter how minute, of rescuing Josh. “Seems we have our first task as Keepers set out before us,” Keallan said. He went into one of the stalls. Blake came into the stall, too. “I think we have to sort out the sheep first. Who knows what damage the dingoes did tonight.” Logan, in the equipment room and putting on his track pants, added, “A Keeper‟s work is never done.”

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Mark Alders

Epilogue

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he soft light of dawn kissed the tops of the eucalyptus trees with its warmth and the easterly breeze fanned its fingers through the canopy. The wind moved in silence though the foliage to greet the new day that burst across the lands of the farm. In the glen that housed the statue of the centaur Beaudan, the Elder council swirled into existence. They surrounded their stone creation, spires alight. Liberty stepped forward. We have a task for you, Beaudan. A chance to

prove your worth to us, to redeem yourself in our eyes.

Lightning struck the statue proper. Seconds later, it became white hot, as white as the coats of the unicorn council that encircled it. Moments later, there was a sound of stone being cracked, like a great hammer had struck an anvil. The ground rumbled underneath the statue‟s hooves, fracturing the stone, breaking it so that it crumbled. Stone pieces, shards of fragments and great clumps of rock then fell to the ground. The living, breathing body of Beaudan was revealed. He took his first gasp of life, revived from his eternal slumber. Beaudan, dark tan equine body and pale human skin, muscles like his brother Ferran, moved with slow movement. At first he jerked, his body confined for so long not used to being active. Then, the more he woke the more he became fluid. His body responded to his thoughts more naturally. The centaur took a step back once he set his gaze upon the Elder council that formed a cordon around him, his eyes wide with fear, his pale skin now the pallor of the stone he was once surrounded in.

Do not be alarmed. We mean you no harm unless you give us reason to. Now, Beaudan, we have a request of you. A payment for the life we have so graciously given. Do you accept? Liberty said, his spire alight, brighter than the

rising sun. Beaudan hesitated and his tail swished. “What is it you want from me?” he said, his strong, young voice filled with anguish, fear evident for the ones that

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Unicorn’s Peril had imprisoned him for so long.

Your beloved has been murdered, in cold blood as he begged for his life, the one that did it showing no mercy. No remorse. “What? Who would do such a thing to something so beautiful?” Beaudan said with a gasp. He stumbled, affected by the news. Red dust rose up as his hooves scuffed the dirt. Liberty came close to the centaur. Your son. The abomination. The one

that stains this fair Earth with his very existence. He is the murderer.

Both anger and sadness filled Beaudan‟s eyes. “I should have struck him down when I had the chance, not just chased him away. Why didn‟t you let me destroy him? Why?” He still had a purpose to serve. But now his time is up, Liberty said, his voice different to what Beaudan remembered the council sounded like. This voice was like many sung in the background and part of a choir, not just the single voice of the council. He must be eradicated. Do you accept our request?

If you do you have until the next full Moon. Otherwise, you will be returned here, to serve out your eternal slumber as stone.

Beaudan‟s face formed a sinister sneer. “I will do it. For Aidenock and for revenge.‟

Good. We give you your life by our grace. Prove your worth, centaur, and you can keep the gift we give you from the kindness of our hearts. Then, like they had never arrived, the Elder council disappeared. The mist they had come with seeped back into the eucalyptus forest, to merge and mingle with the trees. Beaudan‟s face was red with anger, his fists clenched tight and his tail upright. He stamped his hooves upon the ground. “Keallan!” he screamed out, matching the pitch of the parrots, corellas and the myriad of other birds that made up the dawn chorus. “I will get my revenge, you‟ll see.”

To be continued in Centaur‟s Awakening.

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About the Author My name is Mark Alders. I live in a house. This house has a street in front of it which is a good thing because if it didn‟t I wouldn‟t be able to drive down to the shop and purchase the chocolate I need on a daily basis. *chuckle* Seriously, I am a mild mannered post office worker by day and an erotic romance writer (mainly male/male) at night. Not much else to say other than, like everyone else, I have bills to pay, a mortgage and family that I love and drive me crazy all at the same time. Oh, and I have a dog, too! See? Average Joe…except when I get down and write…then I let my imagination go to places I never knew existed and my characters invade my mind.