Secret of the Unicorn (Avalon: Web of Magic #4) (11 page)

No, better not, she decided a second later. With the way my luck is going lately, I’d probably mess it up and cause another magical explosion or something. After what happened at the last game. . .

A soft, insistent burst of music startled her. For a second she thought she had missed a signal, that the band director had started a song without her knowing it, and she grabbed her flute. But then she realized that nobody else was playing, either.

Then where was that music coming from? She half closed her eyes, listening intently as the melody wrapped its way around her brain. How could music like that exist? So mysterious, so strange, and yet so familiar.

Her head started to feel fuzzy. Rae’s voice faded until it was little more than an annoying drone at the heart of the silky melody. Glancing down at the field, Emily noted with surprise that the players seemed to be running in slow motion. The scene tilted, making her dizzy, and she grabbed at the hard bleacher seat to check her balance.

Wow, she thought. That’s weird.

The only thing that wasn’t moving in slow motion was her heart. It started to beat faster and faster. Her brain struggled to catch up.

This. . . has. . . happened. . . before, she thought. The music kept distracting her, confusing her, but somehow, somewhere at edge of her memory, she knew that something was about to happen. She could feel small eddies of magic swirling in the distance, building into a wave.

Oh, no! She tensed. Not again.

The rainbow jewel was throbbing at her wrist, its colors muddy green, sour yellow and blood-red.

Something was about to happen. Something bad.

Glancing around for help, she noticed the band director’s shiny, bald head, which seemed somehow comforting all of a sudden. She forced herself to focus on it. If she just watched that, all this weirdness would go away.

The band director stood up. Lifting his baton, he turned around. . .

. . . and grinned directly at Emily with yellowish, crooked teeth. Gaping eye sockets leered at her, burning in dead white skin.

Emily opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. A nudge to her ribs made her turn.

“Come on, we’re on,” Rae whispered, already holding her flute to her lips.

Emily turned back to see the director’s baton moving up and down, his normal, pudgy face concentrating on the trombone section.

Just breathe! she told herself.

Raising her instrument, Emily stared desperately toward her friends. Kara and the other cheerleaders were doing a routine, standing in a line and shaking their gold-and-blue pompoms over their heads, then down by their waists. As they lowered the pompoms, Emily looked for Adriane behind them. Her eyes scanned the crowd and stopped suddenly. There it was again. One horrible face—a gaunt, gruesome figure with dark evil eyes.

She jumped to her feet, her heart pounding so hard it seemed it would burst out of her chest.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Rae’s voice sounded faraway and weak. Ignoring her, Emily stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the cheerleaders’ waving pompoms. The hideous monster was just a few rows behind Adriane and the others. Was it after her friends? She had to warn them! Emily’s arms felt leaden as she tried to wave back and forth.

Was it her imagination, or was the monster one row closer now? Its sly, menacing gaze was waiting to meet her own; it locked in on her—and nodded.

With immense effort, Emily managed to rip her gaze away. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to shake off the spell of the sinister music. She had to get a message to Adriane and Kara!

But trying to organize herself—focus her magic—was like wading through quicksand. The wheedling, mysterious music was pulling her deeper and deeper, and before long the struggle just didn’t seem worth the effort. The ghoulish face had melted into the crowd, indistinguishable in the sea of faces. Emily felt heat at her wrist. She knew her jewel was pulsing a warning, but she didn’t care. She sat down, listlessly holding her flute. Wherever she was being pulled, she should just give in, let it carry her wherever it would—even into the comfortable numbness of utter darkness.

Suddenly a clear, high note cut through the fog in her mind, followed by another. The crisp notes called to her. Emily sat up straight, almost dropping her flute.

All at once, the heavy, foggy feeling disappeared. The mysterious music had stopped, and Emily felt things snap into normal speed again

And this time, she wasn’t the only one reacting. All around her, people were murmuring and calling to each other.

“What is that?”

“Hey, check it out—down there on the field!”

“Is that a horse? What’s it doing here?”

A flurry of notes rang out, cascading over Emily like delicate flakes of snow.

She glanced at her jewel, which was now pulsing with bright, clear light. Still clutching her flute, she pushed past Rae.

“Hey!” the other girl protested. “Where are you going?”

Emily ignored her. “Excuse me,” she muttered, pushing her way forward. “Excuse me. I have to get through.”

A chubby kid holding a trombone blocked her way. “Look at that thing! It’s wild!” he said.

The call came again, frightened and panicked. Finally, one of the tall kids in front moved aside, and Emily had a clear view of the field at last. “Oh, no!” she breathed, astonished at what she saw.

It was Lorelei. At least she thought it was Lorelei. The creature stood at the edge of the field, near the visiting team’s goal post. Now, her coat was a dazzling, snowy white instead of a multitude of shifting colors. Her silvery hooves gleamed in the sunlight, and her mane and tail were pure white silken strands.

But Emily hardly noticed any of that. She was staring at Lorelei’s head, where a long, graceful spiral of a crystalline horn jutted proudly from her forehead.

“I knew it!” Emily whispered in awe. “You
are
a unicorn.”

The unicorn shifted her head, long silky mane flowing, and looked around at the crowd, searching.

“I’m here,” Emily whispered.

“Whoa!” one of the trumpet players cried. “What’s it doing now?”

“I don’t know, but looks like Coach Berman is going to kick its horsie butt!” another boy shouted. “Woot! Go Coach!”

Both teams’ coaches and a dozen players were now running down the field toward the unicorn.

“No! Don’t hurt her!” Emily yelled. She pushed her way to the playing field. The band members all turned to look at her.

“What’s with her?” a sax player asked.

“Kara, Adriane!” Emily called.

Lorelei pawed at the ground, turning in a tight circle as more people surrounded her.

A flash of dark hair pushed through the crowd. Adriane stood face-to-face with three football players, yelling something and forcing them back. She was clearing a path for the unicorn to escape.

Lorelei was frantically looking left and right.

“Run!” Emily called.

The unicorn looked across the field to Emily, reared up, and raced through the break between the players.

“Hey, horsie! Stonehill can’t win even
with
you!” A large bird stood in Lorelei’s path, waving its arms up and down.

“Go, chicken guy!” Kids cheered from the bleachers.

“I am the Evanston Eagle!” the chicken guy announced, bowing to the stands.

The student dressed as the Evanston High Eagle wore an enormous round papier-mâché eagle’s head. He moved toward Lorelei, dancing and flapping his arms, which were encased in fake wings lined with scraggly feathers that fluttered in the light breeze.

“Go, Evanston Eagle!” the visiting students cheered on their mascot as the chicken guy did his chicken dance.

Stonehill students booed. “Go, Stonehill Unicorn!” they chanted.

Lorelei snorted and fixed her large, liquid eyes on the humans as they came up behind her. The chicken guy closed in, flapping its wings, “Evanston rules! For I am the chick—I mean, eagle!”

Chicken guy danced toward Lorelei, taunting her and trying to press her back towards the waiting players.

Lorelei reared up on her hind legs, and for a moment Emily thought she was going to wheel and vanish as she’d done before.

“No! No magic,
please
!” Emily breathed.

Lorelei landed with a snort, lowered her head. . .

. . . and charged.

“Nice horsie.” Then a muffled scream came from inside the giant eagle head. “Ahhh!”

Chicken guy turned to run, but it was too late. Emily gasped and covered her eyes as Lorelei’s gleaming horn ripped through the garish yellow beak and pierced the bulbous head.

When she peeked out through her fingers a second later, she saw Lorelei dancing in place, shaking her head frantically, trying to free herself from the giant hollow orb impaled on her horn. The kid in the mascot costume—minus the eagle’s head—was running in the other direction. His hair was a little messy and his face a little pale, but otherwise he looked okay.

The crowd cheered. “Go, Stonehill!”

Suddenly an undercurrent of noisy, confused sound slammed into Emily. She almost screamed.

As waves of emotional magic rolled over her, nearly buckling her knees, she could feel Lorelei’s panic rising. Emily herself felt on the verge of hysteria. She had to get Lorelei out of there—now!

“Lorelei!” Emily pushed and shoved through the crowd, barreling out onto the sidelines. Lorelei had managed to free herself from the eagle’s head at last. She was standing in the end zone, snorting at the cheering crowd. Adriane was trying desperately to hold back several big players, but it was only a matter of seconds before Lorelei would be trapped. Why doesn’t she run?

Lorelei spun around, looking at Emily, waiting for her.

“Go! Run!” Emily yelled, taking a step onto the field.

A hand landed on her shoulder.

“This is the final straw, young lady!”

Emily whirled to find a wagging finger in her face. “Your animals are finished, and so is Ravenswood!” Mrs. Windor said.

“Let me go!” Emily yelled. Pulling away, she turned and sprinted across the field to Kara’s side.

“Stand back, everyone,” Kara said to the crowd, allowing Emily to get through. “We’re professional tour guides!”

Lorelei stood, nodding her head toward Emily.

“Get her out of here! Now!” Kara whispered.

“I need some time,” Emily said, moving slowly toward the terrified unicorn.

Kara saw Mrs. Windor grabbing some teachers and pointing toward the girls. Even from here, she could tell Mrs. Windor’s face was flushed with anger as the woman started across the field. “Here comes trouble,” Kara said.

She clapped her hands, grabbed her pompoms, ran into the field, and let out a whoop. “Let me hear you people! Goooooo Stonehill!” she sang out at the top of her lungs. “We all know Stonehill needs a team mascot, and this is your special halftime surprise. We brought a friend from Ravenswood, and with a little papier-mâché magic, she’s going to bring Stonehill to victory. Yay!”

The stands erupted in wild cheers. “Stonehill, Stonehill!”

Mrs. Windor was forced to a stop as curious kids pushed forward, blocking her way.

“What’s everyone think of the Stonehill Unicorn?” Kara yelled out.

“Awesome!”

“That thing really showed the Evanston Eagle what’s what!”

“Stonehill rules!”

Emily smiled. Yes! Kara was a genius. Nobody would realize that they’d just seen a real-life unicorn.

Unless, of course, Emily couldn’t get Lorelei out of there in time.

Emily slowly walked to within two feet of the unicorn. “Easy. It’s only me,” she said as calmly as possible. Lorelei’s frightened eyes darted back and forth between Emily and the surrounding football players. Then Emily realized she was still holding her flute. She stared at it. Could it work?

She had to try. Raising the instrument to her lips, she took a deep breath and blew the first few notes of their song.

The flute’s music was soft and lilting, easily swallowed up by the hoots and hollers of the crowd. Still, Emily closed her eyes and played on, focusing on the music. As the gentle notes drifted out of the flute, Emily imagined them moving to Lorelei in slow, serene, rhythmic waves. Even with her eyes closed, she could sense that her jewel was pulsing steadily in time with the music.

Someone nearby shouted something about calling Animal Control. She thought she heard Rae yelling that
she
was supposed to solo and, for a second, Emily’s concentration wavered.

She forced down panic. Focusing her energy again, she tried to form her thoughts into a song, a lyric to go with the music she was playing.

I know someone really loves me

Someone who won't turn me away

I'm not afraid

With the strength of us together

Nothing's going to stand in our way

Emily opened her eyes. Lorelei’s head was lifted again, the breeze playing with her silky forelock. The unicorn’s eyes locked on Emily’s. Still playing, Emily took a step toward the exit. The unicorn stood still for a moment, then finally took a hesitant step, following Emily. Surprised murmurs from the crowd surrounded her as Emily, like a modern Pied Piper, led the creature through the exit and out to the grassy area beyond the playing field. Behind her, she heard the crowd break into cheers as the game resumed.

Emily faced Lorelei. She raised her hand and gently stroked the creature’s velvety cheek.

“You came to me,” she said wonderingly, tears welling up in her eyes.

Lorelei nodded.
“Emily hurt.”

“No. I’m okay. You have to get out of here, now. Please.”

Lorelei looked deep into Emily’s eyes.
“I’m not afraid.”

With a last wild snort, the unicorn turned and raced away.

Emily stood and watched her friend vanish.