"And you helped him?"
"Only by allowing my horn to be crafted into the Font of Immortality."
Kendra stretched her legs out. "And you've been stuck as a human ever since?"
"That was the price."
"Why did you care so much?"
He regarded her pensively. "Gorgrog, the Demon King, destroyed my father."
Kendra felt she had pried too deeply. "I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault. All of this happened long ago."
"No wonder you want to keep the demons inside of Zzyzx."
"Little matters more to me."
"What about your second horn?" Kendra wondered.
"The Sphinx took it when he captured me. I mentioned that it is almost impossible to steal the horn of a unicorn. The protections on our horns attack the emotions, but the Sphinx is a shadow charmer, and he was immune to the effects. He took my horn with impunity and cast me in a dungeon." His eyes were far away. "I tried to make the best of it, tried to bond with other prisoners, tried to find life down in the darkness. But my lifelong love is what now surrounds us: a fresh breeze, wild plants thriving, rushing rivers, the sun and moon and stars."
"It must have been hard being locked up," Kendra said, crossing her ankles. "Especially for a unicorn."
"Any creature hates a cage," he said. "And any creature can cope if he tries. The hardest part has been adapting to my human form. I had taken human shape before, but never for a prolonged period. After becoming human, for years-- centuries, really--I lived alone, wandering. The solitude was a hard habit to break. As the seasons changed and the years slipped by, my identity began to feel diluted. Over time I experimented with human society. I dabbled with friendship and duty. There are aspects of humanity that I have grown to cherish. I have worn many masks, filled many roles. It is difficult living as an unchanging being in a temporal world."
"I bet," Kendra said.
"Don't waste any sorrow on me. I'm at peace with my choices. I feel sorry for you, so young, yet forced to confront so much."
"I'm all right."
"You cope, but you're not all right. I understand your worries and your pain. Kendra, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to protect you and your family."
Feeling tears threatening, Kendra turned her head away. "Thanks."
"These are dark times, but every generation has its challenges." Bracken stood. "Raxtus returns. I was starting to worry."
Kendra scanned high and low but could discern no sign of the dragon until she felt the whoosh of his wings as he landed nearby. Once on the ground, he flickered back into view. "It was a bloodbath," Raxtus reported.
"Do any foes remain?" Bracken asked.
"None," Raxtus said. "I searched carefully."
"Roon?" Bracken asked.
"There was a throne in the main hall. A big, charred man now sits on it. If it was Roon, he's very dead."
"He had guards?" Bracken asked.
"At least two dozen," Raxtus confirmed. "It must have been quite a skirmish. Severe losses on both sides. A boar the size of a hippopotamus was savaging some of the corpses, but I drove it away."
"Any women or children?" Bracken inquired.
"No."
Bracken gave a quick nod. "Let's have a look."
They glided down to the gate first. Inside the wall, a few armored men lay where they had fallen, surrounded by a dozen goblin corpses. Kendra allowed herself only brief glances at the deceased warriors. Bracken paced around the area, crouching, fingering footprints, rolling bodies, moving aside battered shields.
"Anything between here and the keep?" he finally asked.
"Not really," Raxtus said. "You'll see. It looks like everyone retreated to the main hall to make a last stand."
Raxtus flew them up to the keep. The heavy doors had been blasted to splinters.
"There was magic at work here," Bracken said.
Kendra instantly pictured Mirav.
"You can wait out here with Raxtus," Bracken offered.
"I'll come with you," Kendra said.
The cavernous hall was built around a long hearth where embers still smoldered. Huge trophy heads of exotic magical creatures stared down from the walls--triclopses, wyverns, trolls, and strange horned beasts.
Kendra regretted joining Bracken the moment she entered the room. She had never imagined such carnage.
A score of armored men lay butchered among a host of fallen foes. Kendra saw dead minotaurs and cyclopses, as well as a grisly variety of goblins and hobgoblins. Arrows or spears protruded from many of the bodies. Some limbs were missing.
Seated in a throne on a raised dais at the far side of the room, a carbonized cadaver presided over the massacre. A slain tiger lay beside the throne, fur matted with gore. Kendra tried to pretend she was looking at a phony scene on a gruesome carnival ride, but the smell kept persuading her otherwise.
"Quite a fight," Bracken murmured.
"Yes, it was," answered a masculine voice.
Kendra jumped. For a moment, she had a horrible certainty that the charred corpse on the throne had spoken. But then the tiger arose.
Bracken drew his sword and strode forward. "Who are you?"
"Peace, unicorn," the tiger said in a slow, tired voice. "I assume you are no friend of the raiders."
Bracken kept his sword out. "We came to warn Roon."
The tiger sighed. "Would that you had arrived last night."
"They attacked at dawn?"
"Two hours before sunrise."
"Who?"
"A wizard. Several skilled warriors. Some lycanthropes.
And the rabble you see strewn around the room. Minus the wizard and a couple of the more skilled warriors, we would have won the day. Roon always loved a brawl."
Bracken stepped closer. "Who are you?"
"I am Roon's guardian. He called me Niko."
"May I approach you?"
"You wish to verify my identity? Considering the circumstances, I will take no offense."
Bracken crossed to the tiger. Despite the deep, rational voice, it was still a tiger, and Kendra reflexively clenched with fear as Bracken knelt and placed his hands on the large paws.
After staring the tiger in the eye, Bracken backed away. "You're a shape-shifter."
"Correct," Niko said. "Which is how I survived. I had retained this form throughout the skirmish. Once Roon fell, I pretended to succumb to my injuries."