Dirk eyed him steadily. “Because I don’t choose to,” he said softly. “Because you have to learn how to see things clearly again.”
Ben stared at him momentarily, glanced back at the G’home Gnomes who were watching from a safe distance back, and folded his arms across his chest wearily. He had no idea what Dirk was talking about, but it didn’t do any good to argue with the cat.
“All right,” he said finally. “Let me try again. The wizards discovered that the fairies were sending unicorns through Landover into the mortal worlds. They stole the unicorns for themselves instead. They stole them because …” He stopped, remembering suddenly the missing books and the drawings. “They stole the unicorns because they wanted their magic! That’s what the drawings in that book mean! They have something to do with the missing unicorns!”
Edgewood Dirk cocked his head. “Do you really think so, High Lord?”
He was so genuinely curious that Ben was left not knowing what to think. He had expected the cat to agree with him, but the cat looked as surprised as he!
“Yes, I really think so,” he declared at last, wondering nevertheless. “I think the missing unicorns and the missing books are tied together and the black unicorn has something to do with both.”
“That does stand to reason,” Dirk agreed.
“But how were the unicorns stolen? And how could the wizards steal their magic? Weren’t the unicorns as powerful as the wizards?”
“I am told so,” Dirk agreed once more.
“Then what happened to them? Where are they hidden?”
“Perhaps they wear masks.”
“Masks?” Ben was confused.
“Like your own. Perhaps they wear masks, and we cannot see them.”
“Like my own?”
“Would you mind not repeating everything I say?”
“But what are you talking about, for Pete’s sake?”
Dirk gave him a “Why bother asking me?” look and sniffed the late morning air as if the answers he sought might be found there. The black tail twitched. “I find am quite thirsty. High Lord. Would you care to join me for a drink?”
Without waiting for a response, he stood and trotted off into the trees to one side. Ben stared after him a moment, then followed. They walked a short distance to a pool fed from a small rapids and bent to drink. Ben drank rapidly, more thirsty than he had expected. Dirk took his time, dainty to the point of annoyance — lapping gently pausing frequently, carefully keeping the water from his paws. Ben was conscious of Fillip and Sot in the background watching, but paid them no mind. His attention was given over entirely to the cat and to what Dirk was going to say next — because he most certainly was going to say something or Ben was as mistaken as he had ever been in his life!
Ben was not mistaken. A moment later, Dirk sat back on his haunches and glanced over. “Look at yourself in the water, High Lord,” he ordered. Ben did and saw a dilapidated version of himself, but himself nevertheless. “Now look at yourself out of the water,” Dirk continued. Ben did and saw ragged clothes and cracked boots, dirt and grime, an unshaved, unkempt, unwashed body. He could see nothing of his face. “Now look at yourself in the water again — look closely.”
Ben did, and this time he saw the image of himself shimmer and change into the image of someone he did not recognize, a stranger whose clothes were the same ones he wore.
He looked up sharply. “I don’t look like me anymore — not even to myself!” There was a hint of fear in his voice that he could not disguise, even though he tried.
“And that, my dear High Lord, is because you are beginning to lose yourself,” Edgewood Dirk said softly. “The mask you wear is becoming you!” The black face dipped closer. “Find yourself, Ben Holiday, before that happens. Take off your mask, and perhaps then you can find a way to unmask the unicorns as well.”
Ben looked back hurriedly at the pool of water and to his relief found his old face back again in the reflection of the waters. But the definition of his features seemed weak. It was almost as if he were fading away.