The Dark Gods Read online

  A Fawcett Columbine Book

  Published by Ballantine Books

  Copyright 1989 by Parachute Press, Inc

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, a division Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

  ISBN: 0-449-90359-1

  Cover design by Dale Fiorillo

  Illustration by Rowena Morrill

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition: April 1989

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  BOOK FIVE

  The Dark Gods

  JOSEPHA SHERMAN

  FAWCETT COLUMBINE GIRLS ONLY

  New York

  1

  Homesick

  Sheila McCarthy stirred restlessly in the saddle of her unicorn, Morning Star. She impatiently brushed back a wild strand of auburn hair from her eyes, barely aware of the now-familiar weight of the sword pulling at her waist. Sometimes she wasn't sure if all this was nothing but a wild, wonderful dream. Surely a world full of unicorns, and magic, and swordplay had to be only a fantasy!

  Or . . . maybe the other life was the dream, that life in which she was Sheila McCarthy, an ordinary fourteen-year-old schoolgirl, gossiping about rock stars and cute boys with her friend Cookie Rogers.

  But that was stupid! First of all, if this place were nothing more than a weird dream, she wouldn't be so hot and dusty, now, would she? She wouldn't be so saddlesore, either!

  Oh, well. Nobody had forced her to come along, after all. And it had sounded like such fun: a royal procession all through the land, celebrating the victory of Prince Laric over evil Emperor Ankzar of Queelotoo.

  Sure. Lots of fun.

  Royal processions through the countryside might look exciting, and they might be a great way for all the people who would never have the time or money to go to the capital, to actually see their leader. But all this slow, steady riding was harder on the seat than any wild cavalry charge!

  It was also getting to be pretty boring. At first it had been kind of fun seeing new sights and new people. Even Morning Star had seemed to be enjoying herself, prancing about and showing off. Everybody along the way had seemed so happy to see them. Everywhere the procession rode, from gleaming, white-walled cities to little peasant villages with dirt roads and chickens scratching for bugs, people had cheered their handsome young prince.

  Great. Sheila was glad they were happy. But it would be so-o-o nice to just sit still for a time and not have to keep moving!

  At least this sweep down through the southern towns before returning to Campora was the last leg of the journey.

  Sheila winced. She didn't want to think about Campora, not yet. The royal capital was a beautiful city, and she knew she would always be welcome there. But it just wasn't home. .

  No! She wouldn't let herself get homesick again! But how could she help it? How could she forget Mardock, the dark sorcerer who hated her? During the struggle against Emperor Ankzar, Mardock had managed to steal Sheila's Tracker—the only device that could get her safely across the dimensions and back home again.

  I'll get it back, she vowed to herself. Somehow. In the meantime, I-I'll just pretend home really is only a dream, and-Ridiculous. If that other world, the world of computers and TV and school, were just a dream, she wouldn't be carrying this backpack full of her camera and makeup and everything else. She wouldn't suddenly be remembering hamburgers, either, or . . . mm, ice cream, or—

  Trumpets blared. Sheila jumped and heard Morning Star give a little grunt of protest.

  "Sorry, girl." She reached down to pat the unicorn's glossy white neck, then glanced around. Even after all the hard traveling, this was still a pretty spectacular procession. Banners snapped and fluttered in the breeze, their colors bright—crimson and green and blazing purple— against the clear blue sky. All of them bore the royal emblem of a diving golden eagle, insignia of Laric, Prince of Campora and Perian.

  Beneath those banners, leading the royal procession of his eagle-warriors and the fabled warriors of the Unicorn Queen, rode the prince himself. Laric was tall and dark-haired, regal in purple and gold, a golden cloak flung casually over his shoulders. If he was bored with all the traveling, he didn't show it. Instead, he looked fresh and clean, and so handsome that Sheila sighed every time she glanced his way.

  Beside the prince, astride her mighty unicorn, Quiet Storm, rode Laric's love, Illyria, the Unicorn Queen. With her long silvery hair and silken robe gleaming in the sunlight, Illyria looked pretty regal, too. But Sheila knew the woman was bored—after all, Campora had been pretty peaceful these days. Maybe even a little too peaceful. Illyria and Laric were so very happy together, but even so, Sheila caught a glimpse of wild restlessness in the Unicorn Queen's eyes every now and then. It wasn't easy to get used to quiet times after all those adventures of the past year.

  Suddenly Illyria reached out to Laric. They joined hands for a moment, smiling at each other, and all the warriors cheered. Sheila sighed again. It was so romantic! If only someone would look at her like that.

  Of course, there was always Darian, Illyria's younger brother. Sheila glanced at him, and the boy gave her a grin and bowed jokingly in the saddle. He was good-looking, and she did like him a lot—whenever he wasn't trying to show off too much, that was.

  She bet he would be a good athlete in school. On the track team, maybe, or playing football, or…

  School. Sheila could just see herself at a football game, cheering Darian on as he made the winning touchdown. No, he would be the quarterback, of course, and— A quarterback wearing a sword? Sheila was jolted back to reality so sharply that she gasped. For a minute everything looked strange. .

  Well, everything was foreign. Sure, Darian and Pelu, the gentle healer, were her friends. And then there was the elegant ex-princess, Nanine, and Myno, the gruff ex-slave. All of the warriors were her friends, even jealous Dian, who insisted on seeing her as a rival. But right now friendship wasn't enough. It wasn't that everything here was foreign: she was the foreigner. No matter how many friends she made, no matter how they tried to make her happy, she would always be a foreigner. This magical land—the land of the unicorns—could never, ever, truly be her home.

  Suddenly Sheila was overwhelmed by such a strong wave of homesickness—she missed her family, her whole world, so much—that she just wanted to throw back her head and bawl like a baby. But warriors didn't cry, and— I'm not a warrior! I'm an ordinary teenager; and I just want to go home!

  But . . . what if she did recover the missing Tracker from Mardock? If she went home, that would mean leaving Morning Star.

  Sheila stroked the unicorn's warm, smooth neck again. Morning Star cocked an ear back, then stopped long enough to give Sheila's hand a quick, affectionate swipe with her tongue.

  "Oh, Morning Star!" Sheila murmured. "How could I ever give you up?"

  If she went home, she would be leaving everything and everyone—the other unicorns, the warriors, and of course, the magic. Here, she was really somebody. Well, maybe she wasn't as important as Illyria, but she was still somebody. Back home she would be just another kid. Could she ever really fit in to that humdrum life again?

  Lost in those unhappy thoughts, Sheila didn't see the little green lizard that suddenly darted right under Morning Star's nose. The startled unicorn shied left—and Sheila kept going straight ahead!

  "Ow!" She landed with a thud in the middle of the road, right on her aching rump, a cloud of dust billowing up about her.

  A contemptuous laugh rang out. Brushing off the dust, Sheila turned to see Dian, her bright eyes flashing with mockery, looking down at her from her own uni
corn, Swiftfoot, a handsome brown mare.

  "Poor Sheila! What a fine clown you make! Come, my friend," she cried to Swiftfoot, "let's show this poor little girl what real riding looks like!"

  Dian prodded the mare with her legs, and the unicorn obligingly followed her commands, leaping and rearing and whirling about like a dancer.

  Sheila was torn between admiration and resentment. Dian might not be the nicest person around, but she sure could ride.

  "Hey, watch it! Don't step on me!" Sheila yelped.

  Dian merely laughed. With one last, graceful leap, she and Swiftfoot rejoined the rest of the procession, leaving Sheila in yet another cloud of dust. Coughing and red-faced with embarrassment, Sheila got to her feet, sure that everybody was laughing at her. Morning Star pushed her muzzle into the girl's hand, as if to apologize for dumping her.

  "That's okay, Morning Star. It's my fault. I should have been watching where we were going instead of day-dreaming."

  But as Sheila climbed wearily back into the saddle she decided firmly, That does it. I've had it with Dian. I've had it with everybody! As soon as I get that Tracker back, I am definitely going home!

  2

  Night Terrors

  One summer, when Sheila was very young, her father took the family with him to the American Southwest. She hadn't thought about that trip in years. But now the dry land through which the procession rode brought memory back with a rush. The weather was just as hot. And it was just as dusty. All around her the flat plain and gently rolling hills beyond were covered with dry yellow grass, low, thorny shrubs, and several different types of cactus.

  "Who would live here?" she asked Pelu, who was riding beside her. "And why?"

  The delicate healer's fair skin and ash-blond hair were protected from the sun by the hood of her cloak. All Sheila could see of her face was the glint of her teeth as she smiled. "Lord Toron Medlian, a noble most loyal to our good Laric, lives here. And as to why, well, this place isn't always a wasteland. Sometimes it can be as beautiful as the hills near Campora."

  "Are you joking?"

  Pelu laughed. "No, Sheila. Believe it or not, once the yearly rains come, this barren land becomes a garden, abloom with everything from the most exotic flowers to the sensi-herb I use in my healing potions. Lord Toron makes a tidy living out of selling those plants." The healer straightened in the saddle, shading her eyes against the glare. "I believe we are going to be spending the night on Lord Toron's estate. Ah, yes. Here comes his escort now.

  They were a colorful lot, some twenty men, all of them clad in bright, multicolored robes glittering with gems ("Just colored glass," whispered the amused Pelu to Sheila) and riding elegant little horses that snorted with surprise at the sight of the unicorns. The troop's leader, a slender, olive-skinned young man with slanted dark eyes, bowed low in the saddle before Laric.

  "I am Terric lar-Toron, Your Majesty, eldest son of Lord Toron Medlian," the young man announced formally, though his eyes were alive with curiosity. "My father has sent me forth in his name. And in Lord Toron's name, I bid you welcome to his lands and his hospitality."

  Laric nodded graciously. "Tell your lord it is a hospitality my party and I will be glad to accept. And yes, Terric lar-Toron," he added with a sudden grin, "it's true. These really are unicorns, and this lady really is Illyria, the Unicorn Queen."

  Terric's eyes widened in wonder. I bet he thinks he's seeing a fairy tale come to life, thought Sheila.

  But did something else besides wonder glimmer in those dark eyes? Was there also the dawning of hope? Or was it fear?

  The estate of Toron Medlian consisted of several long, low, whitewashed buildings with slanting red-tile roofs, surrounded by a high whitewashed wall. The whole thing was almost blinding in the clear, hot sunlight, and Sheila was glad when the gatekeeper let them into a quiet courtyard shaded by what she guessed were grape arbors. Everybody dismounted, leaving the unicorns grazing happily on the lush green grass, and followed Laric toward the large, many-columned building that was clearly Toron Medlian's mansion.

  A plump, olive-skinned man wearing a rich silk robe of red and gold met them at the door. Sheila glanced from the plump man to Terric. Seeing how much, despite the man’s fat, they resembled each other, right down to the same slanted dark eyes, she knew this must be Toron Medlian himself. And so he was.

  "Welcome to my humble abode, Prince Laric. Oh, welcome, indeed." When he smiled at them in greeting, the resemblance was even stronger. For there, Sheila noticed, was that same mysterious hint of hope reflected in Lord Toron's eyes as had shone in his son's. Or was it just a trick of the light?

  Yes, surely that's all it is, Sheila reassured herself, turning her attention to the unicorns. Refusing to be stabled like mere, ordinary horses, they had been left to enjoy themselves in the shade outside. Sheila grinned at the sight of an awestruck groom feeding Morning Star choice oats; the unicorn was daintily lipping up just the choicest grains from the man's hand.

  "Please," said a little serving girl, "the others have gone inside. Will you follow me?"

  "Oh, of course.

  Sheila followed the girl into a large atrium, made cool by fruit trees and splashing fountains. She settled herself beside Pelu and Darian on a pile of soft cushions, sipping at a drink that tasted very much like sparkling orange juice.

  Laric and Toron had their heads together in a corner and were talking softly and earnestly. Intriguing bits of their conversation floated back to her.

  "What is it that troubles you?" Laric was asking.

  "Oh, nothing, nothing," Toron insisted, smiling. "But Samarna's border's so near . . ." He dropped his voice even lower, and all Sheila could hear was: "Kumuru."

  "Kumuru!" she whispered to Darian. "Isn't that the name of the king Dynasian was going to send the captured unicorns to? For—for sacrifice?"

  Darian nodded. "Kumuru is the King of Samarna."

  "Are we close to Samarna? I mean, I know it lies south of Campora, but-"

  "The Samarnan border is only about a good day's riding south from here," Darian replied.

  "Oh. No wonder Lord Toron is nervous!"

  "Can you blame him? After all, Kumuru's the one who worships the Dark Gods!"

  "Whatever they are," muttered Pelu. She snorted. "Nothing I ever want to meet, that's for certain!"

  "But . . . you are a mage, Your Majesty?" Toron was asking.

  Laric hesitated, then nodded. "I . . . have some powers, yes." He was speaking somewhat louder now, and Sheila could hear him clearly. "But I will not declare war on Samarna, or any other land, without good and just cause. Has Kumuru actually harmed you or any of your folk?"

  "Well ... no."

  "Has he or any of his troops ever crossed the border into your lands?"

  “No.”

  Laric sighed. "Then, my friend, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you. Kumuru may make for an unpleasant neighbor. But unless he actually does anything to break our laws…”

  Toron sighed, too. "I understand. He tends to make me nervous, that's all. Well, enough solemn words!" The plump lord straightened, clapping his hands together. "Come, on with the musicians! Tonight we host our prince! Let the feasting begin!"

  Sheila sat on Morning Star easily, laughing as the unicorn galloped and danced beneath her. Overhead was a clear blue sky, bright as any gem. Ahead lay the fiat, grassy Steppes of Arren, and there was nothing in all the world to stop them in their joy.

  Except…

  Suddenly the clear sky was darkening, boiling up with black, eerie clouds. Lightning flashed-lightning red as flame!

  Sheila looked frantically about for shelter. Any second now, the storm would break, and somehow Sheila knew that what was about to fall from those clouds wasn't going to be anything as innocent as rain.

  She had to find shelter!

  But all at once the earth rumbled and shook beneath them! Morning Star reared with a scream of terror as the ground tore open in a gaping hole. A swarm of strange, dark
Things came pouring forth. Their talons and fangs were long and gleaming as knives, and their eyes— Oh, their eyes were fire!

  "Run!" cried Sheila in horror. "Morning Star, run!"

  But the unicorn was floundering, struggling to free her hoofs from the earth that was melting, soft as mud. The Things were gaining! Sheila could see the flames of their eyes burning brighter and brighter. Long, deadly fangs gleamed as they laughed and laughed, reaching out to tear her from Morning Star's back and- "No-o-o!" screamed Sheila. And she woke up.

  "What-? Where-?"

  Oh, of course. This was Lord Toron's estate, and she was in the little chamber she had been assigned after all the feasting and festivities were done.

  Feasting, yes. That's what must have caused this bad dream—too much rich food. And too much talk about Kumuru's Dark Gods! Well, she wasn't going to let them bother her anymore. Determinedly, Sheila lay back again and shut her eyes. .

  The dark Things were all around her, ringing her in, laughing cruelly as she twisted and turned, trying to find a way out of the circle. Slowly they started toward her, talons outstretched.

  "No, oh, no! Go away!"

  If only she had her sword! If only she had any weapon at all!

  Suddenly she noticed her backpack on the ground before her Sheila snatched it up.

  "N-now you'll see what I can do! Now you'll be sorry!"

  But the dark Things only laughed.

  "You are no sorceress! "they snarled. "You have no power, only silly little tricks! You are no one, nothing!"

  And the circle continued to close. Sheila could feel their hot, foul breath now, and see the fire blazing in their eyes, so pitiless that-

  Sheila woke up with a wild shout—a shout that was echoed by others! Sheila sprang to her feet, shaking, and threw on her clothes. Grabbing up her sword, she rushed out into the hall, terrified of what she might find.