He came forward half-a-dozen paces and stopped again. “What shall we discuss?” he demanded.
The cold smile was gone. “Why not the possibility that your friends will be here to help you in the next few moments?”
He gestured briefly with the books, and a ring of twisted little figures appeared from out of the trees surrounding the clearing. The figures were everywhere, encircling them. Ugly, piggish faces with sharp teeth and serpents’ tongues snorted and squealed anxiously in the silence. Abernathy felt the hair on the back of his spine arch. A dozen of the little monsters pushed Questor Thews, Bunion, Parsnip, and the G’home Gnomes from out of the trees. All were gagged and securely bound in chains.
Meeks turned. The smile was back. “It appears that your friends will not be much help to you after all. But it was good of you to wait until they could join us.”
Abernathy saw his last, faint hope of being rescued disappear.
“Run, Willow!” he shouted.
Then, growling savagely, he launched himself at Meeks. He did it with the somewhat vague notion of catching the wizard off-guard and knocking free those precious books of magic. He almost got away with it. Meeks was so busy orchestrating the arrival of his small army ol minions that it never occurred to him the dog might decide to fight back. Abernathy was on top of him almost before he realized what was happening. But the magic Meeks commanded was as quick as thought, and he called it to his use instantly. Green fire surged up from the books of magic, and a screen of flame hammered into Abernathy. The soft-coated Wheaten Terrier tumbled backward head-over-heels and lay still, smoke rising lazily from his singed fur. The screen of fire protecting Meeks and the books of magic flared and died.
The wizard stared back across the clearing to where Willow sat slumped upon the ground and the black unicorn waited.
“At last,” he whispered, his voice a slow hiss.
He beckoned curtly to the waiting demon imps and the ring began to tighten.
Silence descended across the little clearing — almost as if nature had put a finger to her lips and said “hush” to the world. There was a moment of time in which everything slowed. Meeks waited impatiently as the circle of demon imps crept forward. His winged demon snorted, nostrils steaming. Willow sat with her head bent, still stunned, her long hair cascading down about her like a veil. The black unicorn moved close, a step at a time only, a shadow out of darkness woefully lost in daylight. Its muzzle drooped and brushed the sylph’s arm gently. The white magic of its horn had gone dark.
Then a sudden rush of wind broke over the mountain heights and whistled through the trees. The unicorn’s head jerked up, its ears perked forward, and its horn flared brighter than the sun. It heard the sounds that no one else could — sounds for which it had listened for centuries.
Trees, brush, and scrub exploded from the wall of the forest at its northern edge as if torn free by some massive fist. Wind howled through the opening left, and light burst free in a brilliant white flash. Meeks and his winged demon shrank back instinctively, and the demon imps threw themselves down upon the earth squealing.
A rumble of thunder turned to a pounding of hooves, and the Paladin rode out from his twilight existence into battle.
Meeks gave a howl of rage and disbelief. His demon imps were already scattering to the four winds, terror sweeping them away as if they were dried leaves at the end of a broom. The demon imps wanted no part of the Paladin. Meeks turned, the books of magic clutched tightly to his dark robes by the leather-gloved hand. He shrieked something unintelligible to the monster behind him, and the creature surged forward, hissing.
The Paladin swerved slightly, white charger barely slowing as it turned to meet the demon.
Fire burst from the demon’s maw, engulfing the approaching horse and rider. But the Paladin broke through the wall of flames and came on, a battle lance lowered into place. The demon breathed its fire once more, and again the flames washed over the knight-errant. Willow’s head lifted, and she saw the silver knight and horse disappear in the fire. Sudden realization rushed through her. If the Paladin was here, so was Ben!