Free The Prophecy by Hilari Bell

dreamed— Eek! ”
    Perryn winced, clapping his hands to his temples. “Please, don’t do that.” Nothing he’d ever read had mentioned how loud a mind-voice could be.
    “Stay away from me you…monsters!”
    “Don’t be afraid,” said Perryn. “We need your help. We won’t do anything to you—”
    “Provided you do as we ask,” Lysander said firmly.
    The unicorn struggled to her feet and turned her head, examining her pristine hide. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on her. She took a couple of halting steps in the hobbles, and sighed.
    “I suppose I must help you, if I wish to be free. What is it you want?”
    “A guide,” said the bard. “Can you lead us out of the forest?”
    “As a bard, sir, you should know that. I am a creature of magic, so the curse of the wood doesn’t affect me.”
    “How did you know I was a bard?” asked Lysander suspiciously.
    “By the harp you’re carrying. Just as I know by his gentle manner that this…” She grimaced. “This filthy person is noble born. How should I address you, noble sir? I would hate to do so improperly.”
    “Call me Perryn. My friend’s name is Lysander. And you are?”
    “My name is Prism,” the unicorn’s voice chimed in his head. “And I will gladly lead you from the forest if you’ll free my feet. Not you, Perryn,” she added quickly. “Lysander, if you please. He’s cleaner.”
    “How do we know you won’t run off?” Lysander demanded.
    “Sir! I have given you my word. The unicorn’s creed demands that once you have given your word it cannot be broken. I may be less than a hundred years old, but I am a unicorn, pure of thought, word, and deed. I would never do such a thing.”
    Lysander snorted. “You can walk to the edge of the forest in hobbles. And if you try to run off we’ll grind up your horn and sell it for love potions.”
    “Ooh!” Prism’s eyes rolled up.
    “No, we won’t,” said Perryn. “Don’t faint! We won’t let any harm come to you.”
    Prism’s eyes returned to normal. She swayed unsteadily for a moment, then recovered.
    “You swear you won’t harm me?”
    “You have my oath. I may not be as clean as you’d like, but I keep my promises,” Perryn answered.
    “Very well, noble sir. Free me and I will lead you out.”
    “Ah…there’s one more thing,” said Perryn. “I’m on sort of a quest. Fulfilling a prophecy. And it calls for a unicorn.”
    “Prophecies often mention unicorns,” Prism boasted. “We have a proud history of assisting in quests, because of our healing powers and our courage. The great ones, in the age of heroes, often sought out a unicorn to be their steed when they…you don’t want me to do anything dangerous , do you?”
    “No,” said Perryn quickly. “Just heal us if we fall ill.”
    “Oh, I can do that,” said Prism. “Unicorns can cure the dragon’s wrath, the fever that comes when a dragon’s blood mingles with the blood of a man, and lesser illnesses are even easier to deal with. I can’t do anything about wounds, mind you, because they’re an injury instead of a corruption of the body. But if you happen to fall ill while on your quest, I will certainly heal you. You have my word.”
    “Very well. Let her go, Lysander.”
    “But what if—”
    “Do it.”
    “Humph,” said Prism as Lysander bent to the hobbles. “You obviously know nothing about unicorns. Some bard you are.”
     
     
    LYSANDER MUTTERED DARKLY WHEN PRISM LED them north.
    “It’s the quickest way out of the forest,” she told him. “That’s what you said you wanted.”
    And sure enough, by the end of the day the trees began to thin and the eerie feeling lessened.
    “The magic is weaker here,” Prism told them. “The trees can only move slowly. In fact, this would be a good place to stop for the night. We’ll probably be surrounded when we wake up but I can lead you out easily, and that way we can pass by the black bog in the daylight.”
    “The black bog?” Lysander’s