The Unicorn Hunters: A Novel(96)

“Very possibly,” said the lady. “But if you embark upon that quest and you don’t succeed, you will die, or go mad, or return to your own world two hundred years hence. There are no half-measures.”

Anne considered her, the firelight in that pale hall adding a sparkle of youth to the lady’s old face. “Would you help me?”

“Why should I? Perhaps I think that Keris is better off lost to the world.”

Anne turned her cup a quarter-turn upon the stone table. “What happened to your granddaughter?”

The lady was silent a moment. “She is still there, so far as I know, still feasting, living in a night that will never end. We do not live by years as you know them in the far reaches of the Lost Lands.”

“And are all her people there too?”

The lady looked up, gave her a narrow look. “Presumably.”

“Then,” said Anne, “I wish to free them.”

“Why?”

For mercy? There was that, but it was not the only answer, and Anne, clever liar though she was, did not dare lie to this lady. She said, “Because it is my only chance now to chart my own destiny. And my father dreamed of ruling a land called Armorica, and perhaps sometimes I dream his dreams.”

The lady considered her thoughtfully. “An honest answer. Perfect in neither virtue nor vice. And perhaps the unicorn would help you. Not to give you mortal power, but because your gift can preserve the border between your own world and the Lost Lands.”

“If I am successful,” said Anne, “I will keep the border. And there will be peace between mortal men and the korriganed, if you wish it.”

“Yes, yes, it is all quite beautiful when there is harmony between us. But what will you do if my nephew comes to claim your sister’s hand? She announced aloud that she meant to offer herself to the king of the korriganed, you know. That is my nephew, if it is anyone. It is no small thing among the korriganed to announce that you will marry. He will have a claim on her, always, unless he renounces it.”

Anne stiffened in surprise. “A child’s foolishness.”

“Yes, now,” said the lady, unruffled. “But the words remain. And what will happen when the child becomes a woman?”

“Then that bridge will be crossed,” said Anne. “But not an instant before. I am not my father, to play games of power with the betrothals of children.”

“As you say,” said the lady. “As you say. Well, my nephew may speak for himself as well. And I will set you upon the path to Keris, if you mean to try to walk it. But it is a crooked, riddling path; you will very likely fail.”

“I will ask leave of my sister,” said Anne. “And if she consents, I will dare the path anyway. And if I go, I ask a further boon of you.”

“You are a saucy girl,” said the lady, amused. “Ask.”

“Take my family home for me, out of the Lost Lands.”

The lady laughed. “Am I a donkey? Why should I?”

“Because,” said Anne with an edge. “Allies come to each other’s aid. And it might—might—incline me to look upon your nephew’s suit with more favor, should he pursue it one day. Or is there no family-feeling among the korriganed?”

The lady laughed, but then the ancient craggy face softened. “My daughter was a saucy girl too,” she said.



* * *





When Isabeau and Elesbed woke from their drowsing, the hall was empty but for Anne and Louis and Henri and Butter, sitting quietly on cushions beside a great golden fire. Anne was leaning on Louis’s shoulder.

Isabeau shuddered as the whole night came flooding back. “Moreau is dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes, dearest,” said Anne. “Or as good as. He will not trouble you again.”

Isabeau looked tentative. “Are we going home, then?”

“That depends on you.”

Anne could feel Louis and Henri listening, for she had bidden them wait until the children woke before she told them where they might go next. “We can all go home, tonight,” said Anne. “Back to our castle in Nantes, and sleep in our own beds. But I do not know what will happen after. Possibly I will be considered a mere victim of all this wicked sorcery and then given to Charles of France. Perhaps Maximilien will fight a war for me, perhaps not. But at the end of it all, I shall go away to Vienna or to France and be married to one man or the other.”

Isabeau opened her mouth to protest, but Anne interrupted.

“No, it is true. Out there, in the mortal world, my only power is my choice of husband. It might be Charles, it might be Maximilien, but either way I am the realm, and my only choice is to whom I yield myself up, and the duchy with me.”

Elesbed listened, stroking Butter, as Anne went on.

“If we go back, you, Isabeau, will stay safe in Brittany with Henri as your guardian. Louis will have to flee far away, for he struck the king of France in the Guardhouse in Rennes.”

Anne could feel Louis’s shoulder rigid beside her. Isabeau had not reacted. Her eyes were fastened on Anne’s face. “Or?” said Isabeau. It was barely a breath. “Anne—now we know the world has enchantments, and I won’t believe it, that all we have is sacrifice. I won’t.”

“Yes,” said Anne. “There might be a path of power instead of sacrifice. But it is dangerous.”