Black Unicorn Tanith Lee (best books to read .TXT) 📖

Table of Contents

Contents

Part One

1

2

3

Part Two

4

5

6

7

8

9

Part Three

10

11

12

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BLACK UNICORN

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All rights reserved. Copyright © 1991 by Byron Preiss Visual Publications, Inc. Text Copyright © 1991 by Tanith Lee Illustrations copyright © 1991 by Byron Preiss Visual Publications, Inc.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

e-ISBN 1-59019-195-1 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Lee, Tanith. Black unicorn / Tanith Lee: illustrated by Heather Cooper. —1st ed. p. cm. — (Dragonflight books) “A Byron Preiss book.” Summary: With her talent for mending things, sixteen-year-old Tanaquil reconstructs a unicorn which, brought to life, lures her away from her desert fortress home and her sorceress mother to find a city by the sea and the way to a perfect world. ISBN 0-689-31575-9 [1. Unicorns—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Deserts—Fiction. 4. Artisans—Fiction. 5. Fantasy] I. Cooper, Heather, III. II. Title. III. Series. PZ7.L5149B1 1991 [Fic]—dc20 91-15646

Other books in the Dragonflight Series

LETTERS FROM ATLANTIS

by Robert Silverberg

THE DREAMING PLACE

by Charles de Lint

BLACK UNICORN

by Tanith Lee

THE SLEEP OF STONE

by Louise Cooper

RED UNICORN

by Tanith Lee

Special thanks to Jonathan Lanman, David Keller, and John Betancourt.

To

Louise Cooper, Maker of stories, singer of unicorns

Tanith Lee

Illustrated by Heather Cooper

Part One

1

The first thing Tanaquil saw almost every morning on wakingwas her mother’s face. But that was because a painting of Tanaquil’s mother, the sorceress Jaive, hung opposite the bed. The paintingof Jaive had a great bush of scarlet hair in which various jewels,plants, implements, and mice and other small animals she used inher researches were caught. “Good morning, Mother,” said Tanaquil to the picture, and the picture vigorously answered:“Rise with the sun, salute the day!” As it always did. Since it was anyway usually midmorning when Tanaquil woke up, the greet ing was completely unsuitable.

Once the business with the picture was over, Tanaquil gotout of bed and went to see what had been left for her breakfast. Sometimes nothing had. Today there were some pieces of cold toasted bread without any butter, an orange, and green herbal teain a glass. Tanaquil tried the tea, then peeled the orange cau tiously. As she split the segments a bird flew out.

“This way, this way,” said Tanaquil impatiently to the bird as it dashed round the room, sticking its beak into the bed curtains. The bird hurtled to the window and flew into the hard red sunshine. Tanaquil stood at the window, looking away acrossthe roofs and battlements of her mother’s fortress, at the desert. It was the same view she had seen since she could remember. For nearly sixteen years this had been her bedroom and that had beenthe view. The long tawny sands, with their glints of minerals, which changed shape after the wind blew, the march of rock hills half a mile off, some pointed like cones, some with great naturalarchways that ran through them, showing the endlessness of thedesert beyond. From any part of Jaive’s fortress, if you lookedout, this was the kind of thing you saw, dunes and rocks, and thehot sky. By day the fortress and the desert baked. At night it

grew cold and a thin snow fell, the sand turned to silver and thestars burned white.

“Hey,” said a high-pitched voice outside, “hey.”

Tanaquil glanced and saw one of the peeves was sitting onthe roof below her window. It was about the size of a large cat,with thick brown fur over a barrel-shaped body and short muscu lar legs. It gripped with three paws and with the fourth scratcheditself busily. It had a long dainty muzzle, a bushy tail, and ears that would go up in points, although just now they floppeddown. In its big yellow eyes was an urgent look.

“Want a bone,” said the peeve.

“I’m sorry I haven’t got one,” said Tanaquil.

“No, no, want a bone,” insisted the peeve. It hopped up the roof and jumped into the embrasure of the window like a fat furpig. Tanaquil put out her hand to stroke the peeve, but it evadedher and plopped down into the room. It began to hurry aboutscratching at things and poking its long nose under the rug,upsetting the stool. It pattered across Tanaquil’s work table, through her collection of easily damaged fossils, and over a small clock lying on its back. The peeve scattered cogs and wheels. Itsprang. Now it was in the fireplace.

“There are no bones here,” said Tanaquil firmly.

The peeve took no notice. “Want a bone,” it explained, andknocked over her breakfast. The herbal tea spread across thefloor, and the peeve drank it, sneezing and snuffling. A piece of toast had fallen on its head, and it threw it off with an irritated “Bone, bone.”

Tanaquil sighed. She went into the marble bath alcove andpressed the head of the lion for a fountain of cool water to washin. The water did not come. Instead a stream of sticky berry winepoured out.

“Oh, Mother!” shouted Tanaquil, furiously. She ran out, kicked the stool across the room, and then the pieces of bread.The orange had turned into a sort of flower that was growing upthe left-hand pillar of the fireplace. The peeve was nibbling this.It turned and watched as Tanaquil dressed herself in yesterday’scrumpled dress and ran a comb through her hair, which was a lighter red than Jaive’s.

“Got a bone?”

“I haven’t got a bone for heaven’s sake! Be quiet.”

The peeve sat down and washed its stomach, now mutteringanxiously, “Flea, flea.” Then abruptly it threw itself up the

chimney and was