The Black Unicorn by Terry Brooks

The cat studied him a moment, then cocked its head, reflecting. “The magic wouldn’t fool you either, if you didn’t let it.”

Ben frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Much and little. Deception is mostly a game we play with ourselves.”

The conversation was turning a bit oblique. Ben sat back wearily. “Who are you, Mr. Cat?” he asked.

The cat stood up and came forward a few feet, then sat back down again, prim and sleek. “I am a great many things, my dear High Lord. I am what you see and what you don’t. I am real and imagined. I am something from the life you have known and something from dreams of life you have not yet enjoyed. I am quite an anomaly, really.”

“Very insightful,” Ben grunted. “Could you be a bit more precise, perhaps?”

The cat blinked. “Certainly. Watch this.”

The cat shimmered suddenly in the dark, glowing as if radioactive, and the sleek body seemed to alter shape. Ben squinted until his eyes closed, then looked again. The cat had grown. It was four times the size it had been, and it was no longer just a cat. It had assumed a slightly human face beneath cat’s ears, whiskers, nose and fur, and its paws had become fingers. It swished its tail expectantly as it stared at him.

Ben started half-a-dozen questions and gave up. “You must be a fairy creature,” he said finally.

The cat grinned — an almost-human grin. “Exactly so! Very well reasoned, High Lord!”

“Thank you so much. Would you mind awfully telling me what sort of fairy creature you are?”

“What sort? Well, um… hmmmmm. I am a prism cat.”

“And what is that?”

The grin disappeared. “Oh, I don’t think I can explain it — not even if I wanted to, which I really don’t. It wouldn’t help you to know anyway, High Lord. You wouldn’t understand, being human. I will tell you this. I am a very old and very rare sort of cat. I am but one of just a few still remaining. We were always a select breed and did not propagate the species in the manner of common animals. It is that way with fairy creatures — you have been told this, haven’t you? No? Well, it is that way. Prism cats are rare. We must spread ourselves quite thin to accomplish our purposes.”

“And what purpose is it that you are trying to accomplish here?” Ben asked, still trying to make some sense out of all the verbiage.

The cat flicked its tail idly. “That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Oh you. On your… intrinsic self-worth.”

Ben stared at the cat wordlessly. Things were becoming a bit too muddled for him to stay with this conversation. He had been assaulted in his own home and bounced out like a stranger. He had lost his identity. He had lost his friends. He was cold and he was hungry. He felt as if any intrinsic self-worth he might possess rated just about zero.

The cat stirred slightly. “I am deciding whether or not I shall be your companion for a time,” the creature announced.

Ben grinned faintly. “My companion?”

“Yes. You certainly need one. You don’t see yourself to be who you really are. Neither does anyone else, apparently, save for me. This intrigues me. I may decide to stay with you long enough to see how it all turns out for you.”

Ben was incredulous. “Well, I’ll say one thing for you. You’re a different sort — whether cat, human, fairy, or whatever. But maybe you’d better think twice about sticking with me. You might be letting yourself in for more than you can handle.”

“Oh, I rather doubt that,” the cat replied. “I seldom encounter anything that difficult these days.”

“Is that so?” Ben’s patience slipped a notch. This cat was insufferable! He hunched closer to the prim creature. “Well, try this on for size, Mr. Cat. What if I were to tell you that there is a wizard named Meeks who has stolen my identity, my throne, and my life and consigned me to exile in my own land? What if I were to tell you that I intend to get all of that back from him, but that to do so I need to find a sylph who in turn searches for a black unicorn? And what if I were to tell you that there is every chance that I — and anyone brash enough to offer to help me in this endeavor — will be disposed of most unpleasantly if found out?”

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