Unicorn Sacrifices

  ***

  Suddenly, Flack awoke, finding that it was daylight as blinding sunshine struck his awakening eyes.

  Recalling his dream of the night before, about the burning Chukka nuts, the lightening, and the pale blue light that stretched from atop the monument high up into the sky, he remembered how he had seen Chart and Brand within that light, together again forever.

 

  17 - Job II – A Job to Be Done

  Gazing toward the monument he had erected the previous day, Flack saw that the Chukka nuts were burnt black, with no hint of the red dots showing upon any of them that he could see from where he stood. Draped around the burnt Chukka nut monument was a covering of burnt and half burnt grass and leaves that were slowly twitching as a gentle breeze trickled by. There still remained a hole at the top of the monument mound and Flack knew that he would not have to disturb the mound to prove that he would find no remains of Chart or Brand on this inside of the monument.

  ‘You are gone, but you are gone together. I hope that you are happy and at peace…’

  And so, moving backwards a few steps, he lowered his head and looked at the monument for one last time and then, turning, he began to walk away, leaving the mound of burnt Chukka nuts behind him.

  Another breeze began to gather, though not as cold as the one form the night before and he felt it go racing from his face to his hind quarters. The wind was strong and stopping for a moment, he turned his head and saw that there was a spinning collection of nuts, leaves, and twigs, whirling in circles in the place where the monument had been.

  Watching the strange spinning column, he was suddenly startled when the wind ceased and the nuts, leaves, and twigs fell to the ground, scattered all around and no longer part of the monument that he had built.

  With only one backward glance as he moved into the bushes that would lead him to the gully where he had last seen the human male and female, he continued walking away. He was walking to the place where Chart and Brand wanted him to walk. He was walking for their sake, and for their rigid belief in a lost, helpless cripple.

  Though he knew not what it was or how he would get there, he knew that he was embarking upon a journey that he was wholly determined to complete. No matter the hardships; he was determined to do this thing.

  ‘If it is important enough that Chart and Brand should lay down their lives in trying to get me to that place then it is important, to me, that I should and do what they requested of me.’

  Moving down into the gully, Flack knew that he was going in search of Essilon. ‘Wherever it may be... Whatever it may turn out to be... I am going to find it!’

 

  LAMENTATIONS

  18 - Lamentations I - That Sinking Feeling

  Flack was cantering along through another day of glorious sunshine, moving amidst the trees, and deliberately seeking out the places where the sun’s rays pierced through the canopy. He was aware of burning sensations along both of his flanks, though the pains were not intense, merely aggravating. There were other pains, where stones or wood had struck at him during the incidents of the last few days, but these appeared to be easing now. The pains upon his flanks persistently annoyed him and yet, even with the sad memory off what had happened to Chart and Brand, he felt stronger. He knew that he was alone and, as much as he did not like being alone, that same loneliness meant that he could run as wild and free as he wanted to.

  To help forget the pains in his young body his mind became intent on only recalling the good times that had occurred so very recently. He tried to ignore the bad but found that the good thoughts led to him recollecting those sad thoughts. He felt as though his thoughts betrayed him, or perhaps he needed to see the bad to understand the good.

  It came to him, in an instant, of just how strong and well he felt and how much energy he seemed to have at his disposal.

  His mind reacted for him, sending orders to the muscles and organs in his body. Suddenly he was running; running wild and carefree through the trees, trusting that there were no obstacles that would leap out and ruin his flight. The wind flowed through his mane and he could feel it clearly bouncing up and down along the length of his neck. He felt good. He felt strong. He felt very much alive.

  He charged toward bushes, shrubs, and trees, that loomed up in front of him and then, at the last instant, he would veer away in some other direction.

  His hoofs felt good, pounding upon the land. They beat out a simple yet powerful melody as he continued to run and run, always chasing the next rays of sunlight that he could see or the one that he could not but believed that he would find them soon. Sometimes he would canter for a little while and then another burst of energy would send him careering through the trees, across the leas, sailing on grasslands as though they were seas.

  On one gallop, he raced through a clump of quite close-together trees and bushes and suddenly found himself in a clearing, abruptly bringing himself to a halt.

  ‘That is beautiful,’ he thought, as his quivering muscles shook in nervous excitement. It was not only a clearing in the forest that he beheld it was also a flat expanse that led toward a large expanse of water. A lake spread before him and Flack stood watching the sunlight dance upon the small waves that caressed the surface. Beyond the lake, he saw that land rise steeply, draped in a green blanket of trees, the land rose high into the sky and wondered, ‘What would it be like to be so high and amongst the trees?’

  Suddenly, he felt very, very thirsty.

  His muscles began to shake, shaking anew with the energy they had recently released. He stomped his front hoofs upon the ground and gaily walked toward the water's edge, his mouth anticipating the cool water racing into it. His hoofs crunched upon smooth round stones, making his passage across them a little awkward as he felt that sometimes they were all going to slide away from beneath him and send him crashing to the ground. When his forelegs stood in the edge of the water, he stood watching the small waves gently brushing over his hoofs, feeling the coolness of the water and sharpness that it brought to his senses.

  A movement in the water took his attention and, staring at the rippling glassy sheet below him, he saw that the movement was caused by him. It was his reflection that stared back at him from the water and, seeing a picture of himself in the water, seeing the horn upon his head, he stood studying the well-known stranger before him. It was almost a picture of his father.

  Then, slowly lowering his head, he began to drink the clear water; watching the splashing water break up his reflection and seeing it try to gather again. He was amazed by the amount of water he was drinking. The water streaming into his waiting body was good and, so it seemed, endless. He relaxed and enjoyed the cool liquid as it made passage to his thirst.

  Eventually, he had his fill and raised his head. The water looked inviting as the shimmering sun danced crazy dances upon the quietly, trickling current.

  He walked forward, moving further out into the lake. Everything here was peaceful and the sounds, made by the gentle waves behind him as they crashed, lazily to the shore, seemed a million miles away from the time that he had been in water with his mother.

  For a moment, his mind flashed with pictures of his mother struggling against the terrible human ones. The kicking and shouting in his mind became so real in his eyes. His mother, screaming for him to leave, telling him to run away and hide from the eyes of the evil humans. And the humans crawling around her, slowly getting closer, and slowly taking her from sight. ‘I wish my father had been there. He would have shown those humans that it is not wise to tackle an angry unicorn. My father would have been able to save my mother.’

  He tried to vanquish the pictures that came into his mind and tried to concentrate upon the peace and serenity that he found standing here alone in the cool, glistening waters. ‘My mother and father are gone. I know that now. I just wish I understood more… What was it that happened to the monument of Chat and Brand? Is that a natural occurrence for all creatures? Did my father al
so vanish amid a blue beam that carried him upwards?’

  The questions were bigger than any answers known to him and so, to avoid confusion and inner conflict, he tried to forget that his mother and father, and Chart and Brand, were all gone. He tried to only look at pictures that his memory would show of them speaking to him.

  Trying to shake his mind as he recalled the constant dangers of humans, he began to concentrate upon his own survival and began hoping that maybe, along his journey, he would find others like him, other peace-loving animals, and perhaps other unicorns.

  ‘I will need to find another creature who knows the way to Essilon,’ he realised, ‘Otherwise, how else am I going to find it?’

  His eyes brought him back to the present and he was mildly surprised to find that he was lying down in the water. He smiled inside himself, for the water felt relaxing as it flowed around him, a little cold but, nonetheless, as it was cooling as it was invigorating.

  He relaxed, feeling that the water somehow seemed to be easing his pains away. He felt good, he felt strong and, for the first time, he felt more confident. Chart and Brand’s legacy had been to set him a challenge; a challenge to reach a place called Essilon and he knew that nothing was going to stop him from reaching that place. If not for himself, he would be doing it for Chart and Brand. ‘I owe it to them to achieve this and I know that I will not fail them.’

  With his eyes gazing across the lake, he saw the shoreline that was a mass of trees rising steeply from the shore and, though he stared long, he could see no movements among those trees. Idly, he searched for any sign of a Chukka nut tree but could see no telltale signs of the yellow leaves.

  He could see that there were many, many trees, rising high upon the backs of gentle slopes and even further in the distance, he could make out the climb and fall of vast mountain ranges, rising high, falling low, drawing a silhouette against the clear blue skyline.

  A number of the vast peaks, the highest ones, were being hidden by low cloud that seemed to cling to the mountaintop, as if protecting it by cloaking it in secrecy. It was a beautiful scene and Flack just let his eyes roam across the beauty spread before him. He absorbed the splendour and wished that he could be in all of those places at the same time, right now, and yet still remain here feeling the gentle water trace his outline as it flowed upon its way; away on its own journey, as Flack was on his own journey also.

  ‘I wonder where the water’s journey will take it and I wonder where my journey will take me?’

  Gazing back towards the far shore, admiring the variants of greens that rose away from the small shoreline and up, into the sky, until they melted amongst the giant shapes of the faraway mountains, Flack felt calm and contented; enjoying the peace as much as he had enjoyed racing wild through the trees.

  The beauty of the far shore calmed him, the hot sun warmed him, and the flowing water cooled him down. He gazed at a small twig that suddenly appeared bobbing around in front of him. It gently came a little toward him and gently ran away only to return again, and then leave again. Eventually, it passed around him and he watched its progress as if flowed upon its own journey until it was lost from his sight by the shimmering of the sun upon the shiny surface of the lake.

  He began to feel sleepy. The running had tired him more than he had first realised and so he lay there peacefully, wondering if, when he opened his eyes, ‘Would the twig still be out there somewhere, still riding the waves, dancing in the flow or would it, perhaps, be wedged against some rock that, unknowingly, was stopping it from carrying on upon its way?’

  Flack wondered why he thought such thoughts. ‘Why should the journey of the twig be of any concern to me? What is the symbolism that held itself, half-hidden, within my mind?’ Flack relaxed even more, allowing his mind to absorb the anchored serenity around him, allowing himself to be free from worry, from decisions, and from the passage of time.

  But time ignored him and time went by, little by little, in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, the warmth of the sun was taken away from him. Cold air ran a ghostly path along his back. He opened his eyes, startled, and saw that a cloud had covered the sun. It was only a small cloud and, at first, he decided that he would wait until it had passed by the sun, but then decided that he would be better rewarded by going and searching out something to eat.

  At this thought, his mouth began to salivate and his stomach seemed to tighten and he was suddenly aware that he was very, very, hungry indeed.

  Standing up slowly, almost slipping on some of the smooth rocks that littered the ground beneath the water. Once he was standing, and he was sure of his footing, he began to turn back toward the dry land and, as his head came around, he caught the sight of something moving quickly, racing to get out of sight.

  He knew straight away what it was that he had seen. Another moment and then his nostrils confirmed the scent to him. ‘Humans!’

  Cursing himself for letting his guard down, he began automatically walking backwards a little to give himself more distance from the humans, but his retreat must had of been a form of command to the humans, for they all began to walk out from their hiding places and slowly began moving toward him. There were eight humans, all moving from the tree line, racing across the shore and into the edge of the water. They were not afraid to come further out into the lake to get to him, Flack was sure of that.

  Disbelief came washing over him as he realised what a poor position he was in because of him being so lax, lulled by the beauty of the land and the warmth of the sun. ‘While I have lain in the water, the humans have found me and had made their plans, and now they are carrying out those plans.’

  He could see the eight humans clearly and knew that they regarded him as being trapped. He knew that they thought they would have him easy. They were spreading out along the shoreline, with some moving from the trees as if they had once been a part of the trees. The humans were creeping shadows of death and Flack knew that these shadows wanted only his own death. He instinctively knew that it was too dangerous to try to run between them for the water would slow him down and they would have time to easily surround him. And he knew that they would have weapons, or a net, ‘Like the one that they had used upon my mother,’ and he knew that one mistake on his own part would allow the humans to have the final victory.

  He wanted to call out his father’s name; wanting to see him appear and come to his rescue, even though he knew that this would not happen. His father was gone, as his mother was gone, and there was only his own judgement to rely upon now. Even Chart and Brand could not help him now.

  Instinctively, and perhaps foolishly, he turned around and began to walk further away from the shore, moving out towards the depth of the lake. From the shouting from behind, Flack knew that the humans were racing into the water to give chase.

  The humans tried to chase but, as with Flack, the water slowed them down and the struggle became an almost slow-motion race against life and death.

  The water had risen steeply around Flack and he had almost slipped upon the odd underwater object, water was splashing into his mouth, almost cutting off his breathing as he struggled to raise his head and to disgorge the water. His neck strained high in an attempt to keep the water from his nostrils and mouth while his legs pumped furiously, fighting the weight of the water that made their progress slow.

  The water was now high around him and it was difficult to keep striking his hooves against the ground in an effort to keep propelling himself forward. Suddenly, his legs only hit the bottom occasionally and his head would fall beneath the water at times. The darkness and quiet beneath the water seemed like a place of peace, though it scared him immensely. Then suddenly his head would appear above the waves again, his mouth spitting water and trying to gulp in masses of much needed air and then he would hear the screaming, shouting, cursing voices of the humans behind him and these sounds would renew his vigour, pushing him harder, forcing his tired legs to maintain a rhythm that was his only way to sanctuary.

/>   Tiredness and fear began to take a hold on him and, for a moment, the thought crossed his mind that it might be easier for him to stop the struggle; to give up his fight against the struggle, to give up his fear and succumb to the death that would surely be given to him by the evil humans. But then he thought of what the humans had done to Chart and Brand when they had caught them. He began to see their faces and to see the faces of his mother and father. At first he believed that they were calling to him, begging him to come and join them and then he heard their voices trying to instil strength in him, telling him he should not give up, that he should continue to fight against the tiredness that tried to engulf his body and to fight against the desires of the approaching humans.

  Spitting water from his mouth as his head cleared the water, his lungs sucked a pool of air into his lungs and he used that air to power his muscles, his legs and his mind. Anger made him kick his legs, forcing himself up higher out of the water, his long neck always reaching for the highest point it could reach; a zenith of hope. And all through this the water continued to splash around him, as did the shouts from the murderous humans.

  An occasional object would strike him, but the pain was lost amongst the voices of his parents and friends shouting inside his mind, the pumping of legs, the straining of his muscles, and the splashing of the water around him. He knew that the humans would be throwing stones, trying to stun him, trying to make him give up his escape but the striking stones only had the opposite effect, forcing him to keep his legs pounding against the liquid force that sought to surround him, to pull him under, to free his bonds of this world. His legs pounded until he became almost magically aware that he could no longer hear the sounds of the humans.

  The silence around him scared him, he wanted to turn around to look at what the humans were doing, but he dared not for fear of losing concentration. His pounding legs reduced their onslaught but he maintained just enough momentum in them to ensure his head remained safely above the water. He knew that he must keep kicking for he knew that to stop or lose the rhythm he had now would surely mean to perish beneath the water, which had been so much of a comfort to him only moments before.

  He could hear the water lapping around his body as he continued forward, the far shore looking more distant than when he had first started to race toward it. ‘I have to keep going forward.’ The voices in his head told him this and, with duty, he obeyed those voices that he loved and respected so much.

  His legs continued to kick, his muscles forcing hard labour upon them until eventually they began to tire, his strength running from him like the water falling from his face when he raised it above the water. Feeling though he was a bobbing frantically in the water, he thought of the small twig he had watched earlier. How easy it had been for that twig to float, and how carefree had been its journey.

  His mind had wandered and suddenly he found himself sinking beneath the water. He froze ridged and then, suddenly, in a berserk bout of thrashing kicks his head swiftly broke free of the slippery wet cavern he had been slipping into. Automatically, and frantically, his legs kicked in an effort to find the rhythm that he had momentarily lost. He succeeded and with new found strength he began to kick again. And on and on he went. Time beat past in a slow pounding of nerves fighting within his kicking legs. Tiredness tried to find him. A cold, cold velvet sheet of darkness was trying to find its way into his half-dead body.

  Then his hoof struck against something, which caused an awaking within him. He did not know which hoof but, almost immediately, another hoof struck against something solid.

  To his right hand side he saw land. Land, that was very near and without a sign of any immediate humans watching murderously from its shore. ‘They may be hiding within the trees, waiting for me to come to shore…’ He continued fighting his way to this dry land, hoping that there would be no hidden humans. Abruptly, he found he could stand. The water was still high around him but, now, he could relax. His legs muscles pumped and trembled in the agony of sudden non-movement, but this pain was also a beautiful blissful relief.

  Slowly, he fought his way through the chopping water, onto the bank and slowly toward the nearby bushes. He wanted to lay down where he was but knew, inside, that it was imperative that he reached the cover of the bushes. He saw a large thicket and forced his way into it. There he lay down and collapsed into a deep, deep sleep. His mind flickered for a moment on the humans, wondering if they had tried to follow him across, wondering, ‘Could they get around the lake to me?’

  Knowing that he had no strength with which to fight, he knew that rest would be his greatest ally at this time. He felt he was safe for at least a little while and, accepting that safety, his mind drifted deeper into the slumber. His sleep was constantly troubled, by much shivering and spasmodic jerks that were so violent that often he awoke for a few moments, not really knowing he had awakened and then immediately fell back into his deep, troubled slumber.

  When, eventually, he did awake, he was very much rested but, because of the nearness of nightfall, he decided it would be best for him to stay where he was and await the morning. ‘I will have to go hungry until then,’ he thought, as his body let it be known to him that it was in need of sustenance. It was better that he remain still and unmoving in his small sanctuary just in case the humans had followed him across somehow.

  Listening to the sounds of the forest, he heard no sounds to suggest that humans were about, ‘But because I cannot see them, hear them, or smell them, does not mean that they are not somewhere nearby, lurking, searching, hunting…’

  So he lay there and awaited the passing of the night. He would sleep some more as it was likely that if there were any humans around then they too would be settling for the night. Turning his head slowly, he looked around the area, trying to peer through the bushes to see any sign of a bright light at ground level. ‘If there are humans nearby then they will likely build a fire…’ With his nostrils betraying no scent of burning wood, he was pleased to believe that there were no humans anywhere near him. Feeling safe in this thicket, he dared not risk moving for fear of advertising his location to any skulking human. He knew that sleep would be the best thing for him at this time, particularly as the pains in his flanks were burning like small fires. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the pains by thinking of those he had lost and would likely never see again. The effort of trying to ignore the pains gave him something to do, something that would help him pass the time and so, in their own way, the pains became a sense of comfort to him. And so he shared the beginning of night with the pains and, eventually, he shared the remainder of the night with more sleep.

  The new morning came as a blaze of crowning glory. Flack awakened with a start as the new morning sun pierced his eyes and warmed his brain and he struggled quickly to his feet. There was quiet all around him. No singing birds, no faraway noises of any creature or beast. Even the breeze was missing, as if it had been chased away by some ghastly ghoul. Standing completely still and allowing his mind to awaken and calm down a little, his mind mistily recalled the agonizing events of the previous day and almost immediately, his burning flanks began to pain him once again. He winced.

  Suddenly, the thicket seemed to be a prison to him. He wanted to be free of it now and his eyes began to look around for the easiest way out from the tangle of branches that had now finished serving their purpose of sheltering him.

  He became aware of eyes staring at him and he turned his head to where he knew the gaze to be coming from. He beheld a small creature. At least a creature that was far smaller than himself, but at least three or four times larger than either Chart or Brand. The animal looked back at Flack, unmoving. Its head tilted to one side as it peered enquiringly at him. Flack returned the gaze, waiting for the animal to speak, but before either of them did have a chance to speak another voice spoke. It was the all too familiar voice of one of the humans. Flack froze, his eyes fixed upon the small creature that looked back at him.

  The st
range animal before him turned its face away from Flack, only for a moment, while it looked toward the voice owner and then the gaze was returned and fixed on Flack, once again.

  “Come here, you stupid dog,” called the voice once again, louder, nearer, harsher.

  Flacks body became statuesque, so scared was he of making the slightest sound. He dare not move for fear of attracting the undivided attention of the human. He tried not to breathe, aware of the harsh pounding of his heart as its beat increased, seeming to resonate within his head. It was good that the thicket was so thick for surely he would have been seen by the human by now.

  Flack’s fast beating heart suddenly beat faster as the human came into view. The human was approaching the dog, and seemingly, looking directly at Flack but, obviously due to the thickness of the bushes around him and the darkness caused by the leaves obscuring the sun from above, the human found it harder to see into the thicket than it was for Flack to see out of.

  The human was very near to the dog. Flack gazed at the dog once more and for a moment the dog continued staring back and then, as if perhaps sensing Flacks unrest, the dog suddenly turned and walked away.

  The dog now took up the human’s full attention.

  “Shane,” called the human. “Come here.”

  The dog stood looking at the human. The human bellowed once again. “Come here, dog.”

  The dog began to cringe as the human began to point at the ground immediately in front of himself. “Come here,” came the sound of the human voice once again; angrier and harsher than before.

  The dog cringed as it moved toward the human and Flack felt sorry for the dog. Slowly, his rump almost touching the floor, the dog moved nearer toward the human with his tail low and his belly clawing against the ground.

  “Come here,” shouted the human, fiercer this time. The human was obviously not pleased by the slow progress that the dog was making toward him for no sooner had the human got the dog within his reach when he cuffed it across the head. The dog leapt back with a sudden yelp, only to be called back again for the same punishment. The dog did so and immediately yelped again.

  Flack could not understand this. ‘Why did the dog not just run away? The human would not be able to catch the beast.’

  And yet, the human was able to capture the dog. Not by chasing it, but by shouting at it. The human’s voice had a strong effect over the dog. The dog was entranced by it, caught by it, trapped by it.

  Flack reasoned to himself that, ‘The dog must be very stupid,’ and then Flack cancelled that thought as he realised, ‘Yet the dog had taken away the humans inquisitiveness of what the dog had been looking at in the thicket. Myself!’

  A dull thud, and a terrible scream of pain from the dog, brought Flacks attention back to the scene in front of him. The human was now kicking the poor animal as, again, the dog yelped.

  ‘The dog could easily have led the human to me. The human would then have been grateful to the dog. For all humans want to kill the creatures that run wild and free!’

  And then Flack realised that the dog must somehow be connected with the human. ‘There had to be some form of relationship. How can this be?’ Flack was totally confused by the situation. It had not dawned upon Flack until this instant that the dog must be a familiar to the human, for it to be able to obey his commands.

  The dog was not free as Flack was but was somehow a prisoner to the human ways. Flack began to have a dislike for the dog, for it now seemed obvious that the dog shared its life in some way with the humans.

  Again Flack was confused, more confused, ‘For, if the dog is involved with the human then why had the dog not given away the knowledge of my presence to the human?’

  The dog yelped again, its shriek of pain intense and yet it remained close to where the human stood. ‘Why don’t you run away?’ thought Flack, trying to understand what was happening. Confused because he did not know what feelings he should have towards the dog. ‘The dog, in one way, seemed to be in alliance with the human and yet, it had also saved me from an encounter and aggravation with the human.’

  The dog yelped again and the human voice echoed around. There was no way of not noticing the callousness in that cold, unfriendly voice. Flack’s body muscles jumped and flinched as he continued to look upon the pathetic vision in front of him as the human leant forward and slapped the dog on the side of the head. Backing away a little, the dog did not seem to be able to move from beyond the reach of the evil human.

  Another yelp from the dog brought a sudden, angry movement from Flack and he began to force his way slowly and steadfastly from the shelter of the thicket.

  The human ceased his beating of the dog as he heard the noise of snapping twigs and branches coming from the thicket. The human’s head moved from side to side as he craned his neck to give his evil eyes a better picture of whomever, or whatever, was causing all of the noise and then suddenly the human stood completely still, transfixed by the sight of Flack emerging from the security of the bushes.

  There was an eerie silence between them. Flack stared at the human, hating everything he saw, hating the smell that was in the air.

  The human stared back, his mouth dripping open but no sound coming forth to insult the airwaves.

  “Go on, boy,” said the human, quietly, disturbing the silence, flicking his arm in Flack’s direction.

  The dog never moved, though it had turned its head and was now looking at Flack. The human repeated his commend several times and, because the dog did not obey, the human became both fed up and angry with the dog.

  Flack stared continuously at the human and the dog; all three remaining unmoving until the human chose to make a movement. One of his arms reached over the opposite shoulder and drew forth a long, thin pointed stick. The smell of the human became stronger in Flack’s nostrils, sickening him.

  The dog barked, “Run!”

  Flack heard him shout but could see no immediate danger from the human and so Flack held his ground, his heart racing while his mind was trying to decide what to do.

  The dog barked once again; wilder and more fearful this time as it told him to run. The human shouted at the dog, calling for him to be quiet.

  Flack tilted his head and gazed, wondering what it was that was happening because he could sense something that was happening that was a danger to him but he could not see the danger. Flack began to feel uneasy.

  The small, harmless looking wooden spear was suspended before the human. It was being pointed directly at Flack and this made him very uneasy. ‘How can such a small piece of wood be a threat to me? Surely, the human is too far away to be able to throw the weapon with any great force?’

  The dog was calling to him again and Flack began to become extremely worried and he decided to run a little distance way away and review the situation. ‘I have been careless far too many times before as far as the humans were concerned and the dog seemed sure that I am in some sort of danger.’

  With quick reaction, he turned to run away from the closeness of the human, to give himself chance to work out what he should do. ‘Should I continue to run from the human? To run wild and seek some hideaway to lay low where the humans will not find me? To stay in hiding until the danger had passed me bye?’

  Beginning to run forward, he was shocked when a searing pain shot down his left hand rear flank. Flack was grabbed by pain and spun around to look at his flank. There was a crease line and blood was beginning to seep out onto his pure white coat. A hot, burning sensation ran through Flack’s body. Beyond his rear legs, upon the ground, with its head buried in the cold green grass was the pointed stick that the human had held only moments ago. Panic struck Flack. ‘How could the human have thrown the small stick with such a great, painful force behind it?’

  With this thought Flack puzzling him, he looked back to see the human retrieving another pointed stick from behind his shoulder and Flack became aware of some other tool that the human held. Already the human was beginning to place th
e pointed stick in a position relative to the other tool that he held in his grasp.

  Flack panicked and began to run and, in his haste, his hoof caught something and he went careering to the side, his legs buckling as he went crashing to the ground. He would be at the complete mercy of the human. ‘And I know that the human has no mercy to give!’

  Even as Flack began to tumble he realised just how much this carelessness was going to cost him. His body collided with the ground in a series of clumsy stages, sending jolts lashing through his body. He struck the ground hard; almost his whole body came up over him, whilst his head was forced against the floor. His neck could have very well been broken had not the momentum ceased from fuelling his painful fall.

  He ached and, even as he ached, he realised that he was about to receive another bolt of pain from the deadly human. He knew that these bolts of pain could destroy him. ‘The human’s eyes tell me that that is what the human believes.’

  He was aware of the beautiful blue skies as he began to try to struggle to his feet and try to escape the human. ‘There is so much beauty around me and yet so much horror that does not belong!’

  A thought flashed through his mind that he ought to be frightened but in the same instant he realised, inside, that he was not. He had no time to be, he had to try to move, to escape. ‘Even if I am injured there is a chance I could survive. I have to get away from the human before the human can do me any fatal harm.’

  Suddenly, he heard the dog, Shane, issue forth a throaty war cry; a shout of anger that was clearly directed toward the human. It was a shout of anger that had been held back for such a long time and only now was being released; being released with intensity upon the human.

  Flack easily and quickly scrambled to his feet, looking on in awe at the scene which he now beheld. The dog and the human were now rolling around upon the grass in a violent death delivering dance. The human was shouting loudly, anger in his voice and, Flack was sure, there was a hint of surprise and disbelief there too. Flack watched, mesmerised, as the struggle continued. Watching the two fight upon the ground, with the dog trying frantically to get at the throat of the evil human, Flack could see the fear in the humans eyes as the human was frantically pushing his hands against the dog, smashing his hands on the dog, trying to desperately force the dog to lose its grip on his arms and hands for a moment and, when that happened and he did push the dog away, the dog suddenly lunged forward again, his teeth seeking purchase upon the dirty flesh of the humans neck.

  Flack, as he moved nearer, began to see the sight of blood upon the dog. There seemed to be a lot of it. Almost gratefully, Flack saw blood upon the evil arms and face of the human also. With a sudden yelp, the dog jumped back away from the human and Flack could see that the human held within his grasp one of the bolts of pain that had mercilessly cut deep along Flack’s flank.

  The dog was hunched over, his shackles raised and with his teeth bared, waiting for a chance to lunge forward again. He growled long and low as he faced the human. The dog’s bloody lips pulled back further to reveal blood covered teeth that he had been wielding very tactfully and deliberately.

  The human was lying there. The pain stick in his hand being partly waved at the dog and, for most of the time, it was hacking into the air that was immediately in front of the dog. Beside the human, slightly toward Flack himself, there lay another tool which had been used in union with the bolts of pain. It lay there upon the bloody grass. It was as helpless as it was useless as it lay there. With no human hands to command it to act out the much cherished scenes of evil that the humans seemed to love so much, it was just a useless ornament to death. Quickly, Flack leapt upon it. It was no more than a bent stick, smooth, with a strand of something fine suspended between the two ends. Flack could smell its evil as his hoofs came down upon it. The wooden part broke and it relaxed its evil shape; and suddenly became totally worthless.

  Flack realised how valueless it had become when he heard the moaning sound which had come from the human the moment that the evil tool had broken beneath his pounding hoofs. The human suddenly swiped at Flack with the evil pain stick and Flack reacted instantly by leaping backwards, almost stumbling and falling again as his hoofs got entangled with the broken weapon which had lain beneath his hoofs.

  The human screamed at Flack then quickly turned to face the dog, to strike at it. Shane, too, leapt back and then, suddenly, the human began to scream. He began to roll over upon the grass as if possessed and both Flack and Shane moved away from the screaming human, both wary at having seen the human go into this frenzied activity.

  Flack was wondering if this was some new kind of evil tool that the human was about to release upon them and, painfully, he felt a small searing pain upon one of his forelegs. His eyes looked down to see from where the pain had come. Small, tiny, black insects were moving upon his legs, moving in and out of the hairs.

  “Fire Ants!” shouted the dog, and then, “Quick, follow me, these insects are poisonous…” he called urgently to Flack.

  The dog rushed off past him and past the thicket where Flack had been hiding and then out into the cool water from which Flack had escaped during the previous day. Running after the dog, Flack splashed into the water beside him, noticing that the water around the dog turned red as the blood that was upon him began to break free and spread out. Flack thrashed about also and slowly but surely the biting pains began to cease. Soon he felt reasonably cleansed of these tiny creatures and he began to make his way back to the shore, as did the dog.

  A scream, long and tearful, echoed throughout the area. It was the human; it was the last of the human and it left behind it a very, very beautiful silence.

  Flack stood with Shane upon the shore, with water dripping from their bodies, and Flack remained silent as did the dog. Shane gave himself a violent shake and sent water cascading in all directions around him, splashing onto Flack himself who, looking on in amazement, watched as the water seemed to be full of many streaks of colours. Bright, beautiful colours that seemed to be the very product of the sun itself as it sat quietly overhead, observing all that occurred. Abruptly, the colours were gone as soon as Shane stopped his frenzied ‘get-dry’ routine.

  They stood still and stared at each other. The silence between the two continued, with only the sound of the water lapping on the shore behind them. There were no other sounds from the human and Flack did not expect to hear any. Flack began to look around in idle nervousness, wondering what he should say or do as he was still unsure whether the dog was a friend to him or was preparing to leave and go on its own way.

  “Where are we going then?” said Shane, matter-of-fact-ly.

  Flack was caught unprepared for this first statement from the dog, while part of Flack’s mind began to wonder about, ‘How I know that this creature beside me is a dog?’ Why did he accept this information when it seemed to him no-one had ever mentioned ‘dog’ to him. His attention was removed from this course of thinking as Shane began to speak once again.

  “Thank you for stepping out when you did,” said the dog, “But you should have remained hidden. I may have to work for the humans but it does not mean I will deliver everything that they want. And I know they want unicorns.”

  Flack never replied when Shane looked up, expectantly, for an answer. Instead, he continued chewing upon a clump of grass that sprouted from amidst the stony shoreline. Again, there was silence. Flack continued his feasting, slowly and thoughtfully, as he tried to think of that which he should say to this dog, Shane. Eventually he found the question he most wished to ask.

  “Are you one with the humans?” he asked, in a voice that, though quiet, demanded an immediate reply.

  “Do you mean am I an equal who lives with these humans?” asked the dog.

  There was a pause in which Flack made no attempt to reply.

  Shane continued, saying, “If that is the question you really seek to find an answer to… then the answer is no. I was raised with the humans and I ha
ve been with them for three groups of seasons. I have never had real reason to leave them for they provided me with my food and shelter in return for work that I occasionally did for them.” The dog was silent for a moment.

  “Until today I had no real cause to leave,” he continued, “I know you must think that perhaps it was strange that I remained with them after the example of their treatment of me that you witnessed, of the way that they sometimes treated me. Well, let me say that although the humans are vicious and cruel they are only that way to the things that they do not own or control. From my own point of view, it was safer to be with them than to be an outsider to them. An outsider, I might say, with nowhere to go.”

  Flack continued to chew upon the grass, his eyes staring straight ahead, his ears listening for any tell-tale sign of the closeness of humans.

  “I have seen the way that the others like me were treated when they were caught. Some humans can be far crueller than others,” said the dog with obvious distaste in his voice.

  Flack continued eating and continued listening, thinking, ‘I do not know if you are a friend to me, or if you will go racing back to the side of the humans if any should appear to threaten us.’

  “It was safer for me to stay with them and endure the small mistreating I received occasionally, than to be one they would have hunted down and abused.” Shane paused, continuing with, “There is no way that I could ever return to the humans now. I know I would be slaughtered the moment I chose to return, and that is the fate I have for so long managed to avoid.”

  Flack raised his head from eating the grass and turned to look down at the little dog beast. Then his eyes looked up, caught the sun, making him wince and then his eyes settled in the direction from which they had came, leaving the human behind.

  “The human had no chance of survival back there. Those ants are deadly. They have soldier ants that carry a poison to paralyse prey so that workers can begin to break up the flesh straight away and return it, bit by bit, to their nest. The humans are very susceptible to them. They have no fur or hair to cover their skin and so have no protection against the ants.”

  Flack spoke, saying, “Where do you intend to go from here?”

  “I do not know. I thought that perhaps I could come along with you. If that was not too inconvenient for you?” replied the dog.

  “No,” said Flack, quickly, pausing and then continuing with, “It would be nice to have company again.”

  “Are you heading anywhere in particular?” inquired Shane.

  “Yes,” replied Flack. “I am looking for a place called Essilon.”

  “Essilon? Do you know the way there?” inquired Shane.

  “I do not,” said Flack, “I did have two guides, two companions, Chart and Brand, but the humans killed them.” Flack became tearful as he thought back to his two very precious friends.

  “The humans can be very bad indeed,” agreed Shane.

  “Do you know the way to Essilon?” interjected Flack.

  “I do,” replied Shane, sounding happy that he could offer something of use to Flack. “But first how about a little food before we set off?”

  Flack was stunned. Within a matter of minutes he had gained a new companion who would be his guide to Essilon. It was good.

  “What is your name?” enquired Shane.

  “Flack,” Flack replied.

  “Flack,” the dog said quietly. “Flack,” he said it once again, and then he became very, very quiet.

  Flack sensed the quiet but did not understand it.

  “Shall we go?” questioned Flack.

  “Surely,” replied the dog.

  Flack proceeded to walk off, his eyes glancing around to see if any other humans were drawing near in answer to the dying human’s final cries. He could neither see nor hear any humans. The silence was good and it allowed birdsong to gently caress the branches as they swayed in the breeze as if singing some secret song. Lifting his head high to allow the breeze to rush poetically across his face, whispering through his mane, calming his heart and calming his mind, Flack prepared to continue his journey once again.

  Then, as if on cue, to ruin his momentarily warm heart, he became aware of the pains along his flanks once again. He winced but he could not ignore them. He had stopped when the pains had hit him and the dog had glanced at him before running ahead, swiftly weaving through the trees.

  “I will be back in a moment,” said the dog, as he ran.

  Trying to ignore the pains, Flack was released from the thought of them when Shane came running up to him, excited and nervous. Flack startled and then looked down at the dog that was now standing beside him.

  “Quick,” said Shane, “We must hide. Humans are drawing near. They will affect no blame to us if we are not to be seen.” The dog ran off and veered away from the path that Flack had been initially expecting to take. Quickly, Flack followed for he had in his possession more size in body and it would be harder for him to conceal himself. He pursued the wild, running dog until, eventually, Shane stopped. Flack stopped also as the dog turned to face him.

  “We will wait here,” said Shane.

  “But I cannot sense or see any sign of the humans,” began Flack.

  “Oh, don’t worry, they are near. I can smell them very strongly. They are drawing very near. From that direction I’m sure,” said Shane. “Listen,” he continued, “They are calling out.”

  Flack listened and became aware of a faint shouting coming from the direction that Shane had indicated. They were shouting indeed. An array of many words, but one word was repeated more than any of the others.

  “What is this ‘Rolar’ that the humans keep repeating in their calling?” enquired Flack.

  “It is the name of my master,” replied Shane. “They are out searching for him. Some of his clan humans must have heard his screams.”

  Flack and Shane became quiet, intently watching in the direction from which the shouting came. After a little while, they were able to see the colours of the clothes that adorned the wretched bodies of the human people.

  At first, only one was clearly visible amidst the distant trees and shrubs and then many started to appear until there were no less than twelve of them.

  Flack became very tense, for nearly all of the humans were carrying the flying sticks that their now dead companion had also carried. Flack was very wary of these flying sticks as he now knew how evil and deadly they were in the hands of the humans.

  Realising that he had been holding his breath in case the sounds of his breathing attracted the attention of the human ones he was suddenly startled when there came a shout which scared Flack. He almost bolted before he realised that the shout was not to give away his hiding place but was, in fact, a call from one human to the others to say that he had found the missing human.

  All of the remaining humans began, as one, to rush in the direction of the now, surely, dead human. They came together to stop at some three or four body lengths away from the fallen human. ‘Obviously, as many as there are of them, they are still too afraid to go any nearer because of the deadly insects that were busy devouring the dead human.’

  They appeared to swap speech with each other for a while before finally deciding to leave him the area, leaving the body of the human where it was. They could not do anything to help the human.

  “Normally, they would take the body back to the camp,” whispered Shane, “But the Fire Ants are making it easy for them to decide not to.”

  Flack found himself willing the mighty insects to destroy the remaining humans and, as they turned away, there came a great shout from somewhere very near to Shane and Flack. The two of them were instantly paralysed with fear for these were other human voices that they heard and they were very close to them. In giving their undivided attention to the scene that they were witnessing of the first group of humans they had not noticed the approach and arrival of the second group who were now almost upon them.

  The second group of humans began to run toward
the first. They ran within body lengths of the two beasts and yet, somehow, the two beasts, hidden between scant foliage remained unseen by the humans.

  Suddenly, the whole air was filled with violent screams and shouts as the two groups, to Flacks amazement, began to fight with each other. Blood began to appear on the skins of the wretched humans and Flack saw examples of just how deadly the flying sticks could be. A grotesque scene played out before him, even if it were the humans who were dying.

  Flack had to turn his head away, but the sheer madness of the situation made him turn his head back to view this incredible and unbelievable scene.

  ‘For all the badness that is contained in the humans, their brutality to beasts, their uncaring attitude towards death in animals and more, the humans are now actually attacking each other and killing their own kind… Without provocation… Without need...’ And still there before Flack’s eyes the humans were destroying each other. ‘It is madness. Sheer, utter madness, a brutal form of insanity!’

  Flack and Shane remained quiet as the whole, gross example of merciless brutality became a mass of horrendous red vision.

  Flack himself was devoid of emotion, of thoughts, and almost every kind of feeling. The amazement that gripped him refused to allow him to even think of why all of this carnage was occurring.

  Together, in friendship, in bewilderment, the two watched in absolute silence, although they both felt that if the humans were to see them then the humans would ignore them for so much was their involvement in their own pathetic war. They watched as one human killed another only to be, in turn, killed by another who was then killed by yet another. And so it went on, the cries, the shouts, the screams, and the final dying followed by an eerie final silence.

  “Come quickly,” Shane’s voice was urgent in its insistence.

  And though Flack heard the voice, he was too distracted to utter an immediate reply of acknowledgement until Shane repeated his urgent command. Slowly, Flack turned to see Shane beginning to vanish stealthily deeper amidst the foliage which had offered them so much security. Flack began to follow, while behind him the shouting and screaming, and surely the dying, continued uninterrupted. Flack realised that the shouting and screaming were ruining a beautiful, sunny day. ‘I wonder if the humans ever have beautiful, sunny days.’

  Emerging from the foliage at a point which placed the shrubs directly between the humans and himself, Flack saw that Shane had stopped walking and was turning his head to face him.

  “Quickly,” said Shane, “We must leave while the humans are busily occupied.”

  “Where are we travelling to?” Flack asked, as he halted and looked into the eyes of the dog.

  “To one of the human camps,” replied Shane, matter-of-fact-ly.

  Flack gasped, “A human camp?” He could not believe that he was hearing Shane’s words correctly. “But, why?” he asked.

  “Because there is someone there who I cannot just leave behind, that is why,” replied Shane. Even as he said this, Shane’s mind told him that it would be a useless endeavour because he knew that the one he wanted to take with him to Essilon would never leave the human camp.

  Flack stared, amazed, and almost totally disbelieving. After the scenes that he had just been witness to he could not believe that Shane would seriously go to one of the human camps. Flack’s amazement was interrupted.

  “Are you coming with me?” asked Shane, with obvious annoyance in his voice that he should have to state the question again.

  “Yes,” replied Flack, his voice low, filled with uncertainty. He was scared though he did not believe that Shane was going to lead him into any kind of unnecessary danger. Even as Flack analysed what it was that he was going to do, Shane bolted off at a very fast pace.

  Rearing up, Flack charged after him. ‘Father would have been proud of that,’ he thought to himself, as he recalled the first time that he had seen his Father rear up on his hind legs. ‘My strong, loving father who I wish was with me now in these times of fear and uncertainty.’

  Then another thought crossed his mind. ‘Maybe I will find my mother at the human camp.’ He did not really believe this in his heart but the remote possibility gave drive to his legs and he burst forward at a more frantic, violent pace. Very quickly, he tore past Shane and carried on in the direction that the dog was moving in.

  Glancing behind, Flack could see that Shane was running as fast as he could but was still falling behind as he galloped between the trees. Feeling that it was dangerous to go racing off at this speed, especially as he did not know what lay ahead, he began to slow down, allowing the dog to catch up to him. It took a few moments for Shane to catch up and, when he did, he looked up at Flack as he slowed his pace and then, turning in a quick circle, he lay upon the ground in front of Flack, panting heavily. Curious, Flack could not help but stir at the dog’s tongue as it heaved in an out of his mouth, accompanying the loud panting from Shane.

  “It is better that you lead the way,” said Flack.

  Nodding, Shane stood up slowly and, without saying a word, turned and began a gentle run, heading in much the same direction that Flack had been heading. Turning around, Flack trotted off, following the dog, moving at a leisurely canter when he was side by side with Shane. They raced at times, enjoying the freedom, but always watching for any indication of humans.

  Moving amongst the trees, Flack noticed that they would occasionally cross well trod trails and that, when they did, Shane moved slower, carefully picking his own way through the terrain, but never ever following one of the trails. They heard bird calls, they smelt the delicate odours of many flowers and plants and, occasionally, they watched the clouds racing along with them. For a little while, all fears and worries were left behind and Flack felt safer and calmer than he had been in an age.

  Shane, suddenly veering off in another direction, only interrupted the smoothness of his run and Flack would instantly try to follow and, in doing so, he had almost been sent crashing to the ground on a number of occasions. He knew that Shane was part playing and also seriously avoiding things on the ground. Together they continued their run, their panting and the sound of the unicorns running sounding natural in a slowly darkening sky. And then abruptly, all of the fun was removed from their pressing, yet joyful, pursuit. Flack’s flanks began to hurt him once more so that the very movement of the running sent huge, shuddering streams of pain galloping down his sides. The pain became unbearable and he had to stop, drawing himself to a halt close to an area where they was a density of undergrowth that would help provide some cover should there be humans wandering in the area.

  Running back toward him, he could see that Shane’s features showed that he had a concern upon his face and then, slowing his pace, he began walking the remaining distance toward Flack. As he approached, Flack knew that Shane could see the pain that forced him to wince.

  “Serious?” questioned Shane, as he got closer to the unicorn.

  Flack nodded in agreement.

  “Where?” questioned the dog.

  “My sides... Burning pains...” was all that Flack could force out as he fought against his rapid breathing and the pulsating pains shouting through him.

  Looking up into Flacks face and then along the near side of Flack, Shane looked back at him, saying, “I see,” quietly, through laboured breathing.

  “What do you see?” asked Flack, half in anger, half in embarrassment, for he was aware of the ridges... of something... along his flanks. They hurt because that was where the pain was centred and they embarrassed him because neither his mother nor his father had them.

  “I don’t know,” replied Shane, truthfully. “It looks to be some kind of deformity. Does it cause you pain all of the time or are you able to cope with it?”

  “The pains are not always there. They come and they go. What do you know of deformities?” Flack asked.

  Looking up into Flack’s eyes, Shane spoke calmly, saying, “I have witnessed a number of deformed young ones, both anim
al and human, and the human’s had always killed then immediately that the deformity was known. I know that the deformities cause natural death’s at a young age or that it interferes too greatly with the day to day survival instincts of the afflicted animal, be it beast or human.”

  Turning his head away, Flack was both angry and embarrassed by what the dog had said. He felt his whole body trembling and he hoped that the dog thought that it was being caused by the pains in his sides. Flack sensed that Shane had also became embarrassed by the topic of the conversation, as the dog remained quiet and simply walked a little way towards Flack’s right side and lay down upon the ground.

  Turning toward the dog, Flack could see that he had laid his head upon his outstretched forelegs and stared into the distance, his ears raised as he searched the nearby forest for any signs of danger. The silence continued for a while and Flack was grateful when Shane eventually spoke to him.

  “I am sorry for the way I spoke. It is all the knowledge I have on the matter. I thought that you would know the same.” And then, trying to ignore those words, he asked, “Is the pain easing up at all?” sincerely and quietly.

  “Yes,” replied Flack, slowly going down on bent forelegs as he sought to lay upon the ground close to the dog, and ensuring that he was more hidden from any skulking eyes. “As I said, the pains come and go. Sometimes I have no pain at all and can run fast without any soreness troubling me.”

  “Have you had any other problems or, seemingly, odd occurrences?” Shane questioned.

  “No,” Flack replied quickly and then, offering some other information, he added, “Yes! Two companions that I was travelling with said that I appeared to be growing at a very increased rate, speaking as if this was a strange occurrence. But this rapid growing has not caused me total pain in itself… only the pain along my sides.” Flack stopped and looked deep and hard at Shane, awaiting his reply. None came.

  Flack could see that Shane was thinking his own thoughts and, in case any of the thinking was relevant to him, he said quietly and with as much strength in his voice as he could, “What is it that you are thinking? If you have any more knowledge about what ails me then please tell me, I would prefer to know.”

  Seeing that Shane’s expression seemed to show that he was trying to come to a decision, Flack repeated, “I would prefer to know.”

  Glancing at Flack and then looking away again, Shane began to speak, saying, “You are supposed to be growing too fast and, according to your previous companions, you have accelerated growth? That would fit with the pains that you experience and perhaps the pains are only growing pains. Do you know if that is normal for your kind?”

  Shaking his head slowly, Flack caught the quick glance by Shane as he sought out his answer.

  “Sometimes,” began Shane, “Sometimes, growing at a fast rate is accompanied by rapid aging. I have heard tales of this in the human camp and the results of rapid ageing and rapid growth normally…” Shane paused, keeping his gaze away from Flack, and finished with, “result in early death.”

  Shane’s voice betrayed the fact that he felt very bitter at having to be the one who said these things.

  “But it might not be the case?” asked Flack.

  “No,” sighed Shane, “It might not be the case.”

  Looking away and through the branches of nearby bushes, Flack felt tears trying to push through because he believed that Shane had not really believed his last statement himself.

  “We shall rest a while longer,” said Shane. To break the silence, he continued, “I think it would be wise to find a little food for we have at least two days journey ahead of us. Perhaps it would be best to stay here as the night is closing in quickly.”

  Flack nodded his agreement though, at first, he was going to argue to press on with their journey but the mention of food made him realise that he was very hungry indeed.

  “How many seasons are you?” asked Shane, for the sole purpose of keeping a momentum to the recently strained conversation.

  “Seasons?” questioned Flack.

  “How many,” Shane asked.

  “How long is a season?” enquired Flack

  “There are four seasons to a season group. I am twelve seasons or three season groups,” said Shane, as if that which he had just said should explain everything.

  Flack remained silent.

  “Have you no idea how many seasons you are? Have you no idea of your age?” asked Shane, annoyed that such a simple question should cause so much trouble.

  “This is my sixth day of life,” said Flack, finally understanding what it was that Shane had been trying to retrieve from him.

  Shane stared in honest, total disbelief, leaving Flack feeling that he had said something terribly wrong.

  “Six days?” repeated Shane, in a voice that made no effort to disguise his astonishment.

  Flack looked back into the dogs eyes and nodded slowly, confused by Shane’s reaction.

  Shane turned his head upward, looking up to the sky as he, in his mind, tried to come to terms with the fact that, ‘Flack is not only deformed, but he is also quite mad.’

  Flack tried to ignore the obvious expressions that crept across Shane’s face. The silence became stiller, with an eerie tinge to its edges. Flack felt it would be better if he kept his words to himself for a little while.

  The silence continued as Shane lay there looking deep in thought, as he pretended that he was trying to go to sleep.

  Occasionally his eyes would flicker toward where Flack now lay and then, just as quickly, his eyes would seek out some far part of the sky overhead.

  The silence became painful to Flack and he too lifted his head to the sky and, watching a slow cloud drift across the sparking, myriad of stars, Flack looked deeper into the night sky, trying to bury himself amongst the jewelled stars as he tried to ignore the pains in his body that were creeping into his conscious thoughts. The pains screamed into him and he tried harder to stare deeper into the sky, trying to find a place within which he would find refuge from the incessant pains that seemed to have lived with him forever.

  Slow tears of pain crept down from his eyes, following the contours of his young face. He was not crying tears of sadness this time, instead the tears were appearing as the pains increased in him, making him want to scream and yet he was holding back his voice because he did not want Shane to see this in case he should doubt that he was with a travelling companion who would not be able to survive the journey ahead. Continuing searching the sky he kept looking for a of sanctuary but then, it seemed as though the sky, with its beautiful jewels, began to fight back against him, as the sky started to hide its jewels as it sent a cloth of deepest black toward him.

  The sky seemed to close in around him, the very force of its unseen pressure caused his mind to go black and then... then, he rolled over. In a dreamlike slow motion his neck fell to the ground, to land hard against the grass and wigs, as a deep breath kicked from his young chest as he settled to the earth.