The Black Unicorn

A year had passed since Ben Holiday bought the Magic Kingdom from the wizard Meeks, who had set a series of pitfalls against him. Ben survived, by the aid of three loyal friends: Questor Thews, an ill-trained wizard; Abernathy, a talking dog, the Court Scribe; and the lovely Willow, who sometimes had to be a tree.

But Ben had been troubled by dreams of disaster to his former partner, Miles Bennett. Yet when he returned to Earth, Ben found Miles doing splendidly.Unknown to Ben, the dreams had been a trap by Meeks, who had returned to the Magic Kingdom as a tiny insect hidden in Ben's clothing. That first night back in Landover, Ben awoke to see Meeks gloating over him, claiming to have the medallion that could summon the mysterious knight-protector, the Paladin, and that he had cast a spell to switch appearances with Ben.

Ben found himself outcast, no longer recognized by any friend, though all his powerful enemies seemed to know him. Without the medallion, he couldn't seek the help of the Paladin against Meeks. There was only the prism cat - whatever that might be!And where was Willow - and the mysterious black unicorn she'd set out to find?

Terry Brooks

The Black Unicorn

Magic Kingdom of Landover - 2

ePub r1.0

Fénix 22.04.2018

Terry Brooks, 1987

Digital editor: Fénix

ePub base r1.2

For Amanda

She sees unicorns that are hidden from me…

“How do you know she is a unicorn?” Molly demanded. “And why were you afraid to let her touch you? I saw you. You were afraid of her.”

“I doubt that I will feel like talking for very long,” the cat replied without rancor. “I would not waste time in foolishness if I were you. As to your first question, no cat out of its first fur can ever be deceived by appearances. Unlike human beings, who enjoy them. As for your second question—” Here he faltered, and suddenly became very interested in washing; nor would he speak until he had licked himself fluffy and then licked himself smooth again. Even then he would not look at Molly, but examined his claws.

“If she had touched me,” he said very softly, “I would have been hers and not my own, not ever again.”

—Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn

PROLOGUE

The black unicorn stepped from the morning mists, almost as if born of them, and stared out over the kingdom of Landover.

Daybreak hovered at the crest of the eastern horizon, an intruder that peeked from its place of concealment to catch a glimpse of night’s swift departure. The silence seemed to deepen further with the appearance of the unicorn—as if that one small event in that one tiny corner was sensed somehow throughout the whole of the valley. Everywhere sleep gave way to waking, dreams to being, and that moment of transition was as close as time ever came to being frozen.