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Riled but good, I clenched my fists and stepped toward him, ready to deck him one. "What the hell is your name, anyway? Since I passed the test and can control the horn, you'd damned well better tell me what it is and what sort of creature you are, or so help me, I'll gouge your goddamn eyes out."
He coughed and straightened his vest. "Get a grip. You aren't hurt. Not if you're acting like this." At my growl, he held up both hands in surrender and jumped back. "Okay, okay! I'm a jindasel."
I blinked. This was a new one. "Say what?"
"A jindasel. We're not very well-known. You were right, in a way. We are similar to the djinn; however, we're created from the spirit of another being—usually one of great power—to be used as guardians. And usually, the object we're set to guard was, at one time, part of our originator's body. Perhaps a preserved hand and arm, or—as in this case—the horn of the Black Unicorn." He caught his breath while I pondered this. "My name is Eriskel."
Unsure of just what to say, I cleared my throat. "A jindasel named Eriskel. How… poetical." It struck me that, if he was created from the spirit of the Black Beast… "So you're actually siphoned off of the Black Unicorn's spirit? Do you share your creator's thoughts?"
"Not exactly." Eriskel looked intrigued. "No one's really ever asked much about my existence before. It might help to think of me as a minor incarnation of the Black Unicorn. He gave me my own sentience. While I live to serve and obey him, he allows me some independence."
A thought crossed my mind. The Monkey's Paw… The Hand… were they guarded by creatures like this one? Stories horrific and—I had thought—fictional. But now, I wondered. Were these tales based on some knowledge of the jindasel? And the Black Unicorn, was he friend or foe?
"Will you always take this form?"
"Only when you summon me." Eriskel shook his head. "Now that you've learned my name, you can call me forth from the horn. If you abuse the power, I will destroy you. If you give away the horn, I will test the one to whom you offer it. But be aware—this artifact has limitations. It is not infinite, and it must recharge itself under the dark of the moon every month to retain its power. If you use it too often, the horn will forsake you."
"Then you would have destroyed the bugbear and goblin who stole it, wouldn't you?" That would have been quite a shocker for them.—Their thievery would have been in vain, if they'd tried to keep the horn for their own use.
"Aye, if their powers were no greater than mine. I'm not invincible, however. Any greater demon—or even some of the lesser ones—would put up a strong fight against me."
I stared at the crystal spire, cool in my palm. "What can I do with this against the demons?"
Here, Eriskel flashed me an enigmatic smile. "Much… but exactly what is for you to discover. I can't give you all the answers, because I don't know all of them. And some, I'm sworn to protect. Only those truly worthy of the power will find the way to use it. Or those who can torture it out of the horn."
Our eyes met, and I knew when he said that, he meant "torture it out of me." Eriskel was vulnerable against the darker forces we faced. If I lost the horn to the demons, chances are he'd be destroyed in their quest to assume control over it. Which meant I needed to guard it as safely as I could. Another life resting on my shoulders.
I held up the box. "Should I store it in here?"
He shook his head. "Only when you place it under the dark of the moon to recharge. You'll find, beneath the velvet cloth in the box, a special sheath to be worn on a belt. And there is one more thing."
He paused, holding out his hand as if reaching for something. A cloak appeared in his hand, black and velvety soft. It was lustrous against the ethereal sunlight that glimmered everywhere in the meadow. "Wear this cloak, and it will afford you a measure of protection, though don't count on it to save you. Never count on anything or anyone but yourself."
I was surprised to find the cloak was lighter than spider-silk. And yet, when I twirled it around my shoulders and fastened it with the golden star-flower brooch at the neck I felt warm, almost sheltered. The cloak came to my knees and had four pockets inside, including one that was perfectly shaped for the horn. Side slits for my hands and arms made it much more practical than most capes, and I brought up the hem of the material to caress my cheek. As the soft cloth brushed against my skin, shivers of energy raced up and down my spine. Something very powerful and ancient had provided the velvet for this drape.
Almost afraid to ask, I finally whispered, "Panther fur?" Delilah would have my hide if I came home dressed in catskin.
The jindasel shook his head. "No, far more rare. There have been eight Black Unicorns throughout history."
"Eight? I thought there was only one."
"Only in legend. No, there have been eight, each a descendant of the one prior. Their bones have been preserved in a sacred place, the whereabouts unknown to all but the current king or queen."
With a sudden glimpse of what was coming, I almost didn't want to hear the rest. The thought was overwhelming. "Umm… so this velvet is…"
"Fur from the hide of the previous Black Unicorn. The bones are bleached and buried, and the skins are used solely for cloaks, each given to one who has earned the right to wield one of the horns. Eight horns in history. Eight cloaks."
Stunned, I could only brush my fingers over the fur. So the Black Unicorns didn't shed their horns like I'd heard. And I was wearing a fortune on my back. I'd have to be careful and never tell anyone what the cloak was made of if I wanted to keep myself alive.
"I'll do my best to keep it safe," I murmured, thinking aloud.
"If you lose it—if someone evil gets hold of it, the cloak will burst into flames. But the horn—each horn is a magical artifact, and each time the Black Beast dies and his horn is shed, his spirit spins off a jindasel before migrating into the next body."
"Whoa. You mean like the phoenix? The Black Unicorn is reborn each time?"
He nodded and folded his arms. "Now, do you see why you must not lose the horn? These are sacred artifacts, entrusted to your care. You face demon spawn, and they can overpower me. Unfortunately, you are vastly outnumbered, and if you fail, Shadow Wing will overrun Earth and move into Otherworld. And so the Dahns unicorns approached the Black Beast and petitioned for help. This is the aid he surrendered."
So Feddrah-Dahns hadn't really owned the horn. And he'd probably embellished the truth to keep the real story of the Black Unicorn silent. Just why he needed to do that, I wasn't sure, but he must have a reason. Both awed and humbled by the trust placed in us—in me—I let out a long sigh. Expectations on us kept growing and seemed heavier with each passing day.
