The Black Unicorn by Terry Brooks

Beware, the cat had warned.

Convenient, that.

His thoughts twisted, and he found himself thinking again of the medallion. Had it really brought the demon? Had it really been responsible for the destruction of the wood nymphs and the piper? He couldn’t live with that. Perhaps he ought simply to get rid of the thing. After all, what if it actually did work to the benefit of the wizard if Ben kept it on? Maybe that was exactly what Meeks wanted. The warning against trying to remove it might be a ruse. If he took it off, maybe he would be free of the wizard.

He stopped once more and reached down into his tunic. He placed his fingers about the chain from which the medallion hung and slowly lifted it free. Staring at it in the dark, seeing its muted, tarnished image glimmer in the brief flashes of lightning that streaked the forest skies, he had an incredibly strong urge to fling the unsettling piece of metal from him. If he did so, he might set himself free, redeem himself in part at least for the destruction of the wood nymphs. He might begin anew…

“Ah, my dear High Lord, there you are — wandering about in the dark like some blind ‘possum. I thought I had lost you completely.”

Edgewood Dirk stepped delicately from the trees, his immaculate coat glistening with rain water, his whiskers drooping slightly with the damp. He walked over to a fallen log and sat down on the dampened bark with studied care.

“Where have you been?” Ben snapped irritably. He hesitated, then let the medallion drop back into his tunic.

“Looking for you, of course,” Dirk replied calmly. “It seems that you need a great deal of looking after.”

“Is that so?” Ben was steamed. He was weary, frightened, disgusted, and a dozen other unpleasant things, but most of all he was sick and tired of being treated like a lost puppy by this damn cat. “Well, if ever there was someone suited to the task of looking after people, it’s you, isn’t it? Edgewood Dirk, caretaker of lost souls. Who else possesses such marvelous insight into human character? Who else discerns the truth of things with such remarkable consistency? Tell me again, Dirk — how is it that you know so much? Come on, tell me! How did you know what the River Master was doing back there before I did? How did you know he was summoning the unicorn? Why did you let me just stand there and be part of it? Those wood nymphs probably died because of me! Why did you let that happen?”

The cat stared at him pointedly for a moment, then began to wash. Ben waited. Dirk seemed oblivious to his presence.

“Well?” Ben said finally.

The cat looked up. “You do have a lot of questions, don’t you, High Lord?” The pink tongue licked out. “Why is it that you keep looking to me for the answers?”

“Because you seem to have them, damn it!”

“What seems to be and what actually is are quite different, High Lord — a lesson you have yet to learn. I have instinct and I have common sense; sometimes I can discern things more easily than humans. I am not, however, a vast reservoir of answers to questions. There is a difference.” He sneezed. “Besides, you mistake the nature of our relationship yet again. I am a cat and I don’t have to tell you anything. I am your companion in this adventure, not your mentor. I am here at my own sufferance and I can leave when I choose. I need answer to no one — least of all you. If you desire answers to your questions, I suggest you find them yourself. The answers are all there if you would make the necessary effort to look for them.”

“You could have warned me!”

“You could have warned yourself. You simply didn’t bother. Be grateful that I chose to intervene at all.”

“But the wood nymphs…”

“Why is it,” the cat cut him short, “that you continually insist on asking for things to which you are not entitled? I am not your deus ex machinal”

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