Unicorn Precinct by Keith R. A. DeCandido

Author:Keith R. A. DeCandido [DeCandido, Keith R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Dark Quest Books
Published: 2011-08-05T04:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

As Torin walked down Oak Way with Danthres for the second time that day, he found himself thinking back to the last time he saw his father.

It wasn't a day he'd thought about all that often. The first few months after he left Myverin, he had played the day over and over again in his head—for all that he told his father that he had made up his mind, he wasn't at all sure that he could survive the world outside the protective walls, both literal and metaphorical, of his homeland. The doubts were often crippling, especially during the brutal days and cold nights on the battlefields of the elven wars.

Torin had been astride Sylvan Wye, the beautiful brown horse that had been his since he was a teenager. He had a pack on his back, the sword his uncle had given him on his belt.

Wyvald ban Garin had stood in front of Sylvan Wye on the pathway that led toward the city gates. It was a dirt path, as nobody in Myverin had even conceived of cobblestones. And indeed, the path to the city gates was among the least used paths, for why would anybody wish to leave Myverin?

"Where are you going, my son?"

Torin hadn't yet grown his thick red beard, but his hair had already gone past his shoulders. He had it tied into a ponytail, and that waved back and forth as he shuddered with bitter laughter. "Do you really need to ask that question, Father? What do you think I've been preparing for the past several months?"

"You've been acting like a child, but it is long past time you set childish things aside. Varin tells me you have not attended your lessons today—or yesterday."

"I will not be taking over as Chief Artisan, Father, so Varin's lessons are of little use. Please get out of the way."

"You have responsibilities, Torin. I indulged your fantasies, but I must now insist—"

Torin had sighed then, amazed that his father didn't understand. "This isn't a fantasy, Father. I've spoken of nothing else for months. Why did you not believe me?"

Wyvald had shaken his head. "You are simply being obstreperous. You've been like this since your mother died."

"No, Father, I've been 'like this' all along. Mother simply shielded it from you because she knew you'd act like an ass."

Torin had often tried to provoke an emotional response out of his father, whom one of Torin's tutors had once referred to as "the crown prince of equanimity." Usually, the only way to accomplish that goal was to speak of his late wife in any but the most worshipful tones.

Sure enough, this time he had clenched his fists, and his mouth had curled into a vicious snarl beneath his red-and-gray beard. "Do not speak of your mother in that manner! I will only hear you speak of her with respect!"

"Easily accomplished, Father," Torin had said with a mock-sweet smile. "Get out of Sylvan's way, and you'll never hear me speak ill of Mother again."

But

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