Blizzard of the Blue Moon (6 page)

“Oh … !” whispered Jack.

“A
unicorn!”
said Annie.

T
here were seven tapestries in all. Each was almost as high as the wooden ceiling. Jack read aloud from a sign on the wall under the first one:

The first tapestry showed hunters and hounds searching for the unicorn. The second showed the unicorn being found.

The other tapestries showed the unicorn trying to escape, leaping from a stream, chased by
hounds, then captured and slain by the hunters’ spears.

Oddly, the last tapestry showed the unicorn alive again. He was sitting in a garden of flowers surrounded by a wooden fence. There was a wide blue and gold collar around his neck, and he was chained to a tree.

“That’s
him,”
Annie said softly.

“How can it be him?” said Jack. “He’s a picture in a tapestry.”

“Read Merlin’s poem again,” said Annie.

Jack unbuckled his briefcase and pulled out the parchment scroll. He read aloud.

“The unicorn is hidden in the tapestry,” said Annie. “The people who wove it must be the ones who put him under a spell.”

“Hmm …,” said Jack. He read on.

“Stop, do the math,” said Annie.

“Right,” said Jack. He took out his notebook and pencil. “Okay, four centuries is four hundred, and four decades is forty. Add ’em up, you get four hundred forty. Then if you subtract four hundred forty from 1938, you get… 1498.”

“It works!” said Annie. “The sign says the tapestries were woven at the end of the 1400s! And it’s the end of November, and Mr. Perkins said there’s a blue moon tonight!”

“Oh, man,” whispered Jack. He kept reading.

Annie looked up at the tapestry.
“Divine Flower!”
she called.

Nothing happened.

“Divine Flower of Rome!”
Jack called.

Jack and Annie watched and waited. Nothing changed in the tapestry. It looked exactly the same.

“Maybe he’s not the right unicorn after all,” said Jack.

“Maybe it’s just not the right name,” said Annie. “Read the rest.”

Jack read more of the poem.

“He
is
the right unicorn!” said Annie. “See? There’s the chain!” She pointed to the chain in the last tapestry.

“Yeah, but why didn’t calling his name work?” said Jack. “Why didn’t he wake up?”

“I don’t know,” said Annie. “What else does the poem say?”

Jack read on.

“He
is
on public display, and
I’m
the girl, Jack!” said Annie. “I love him a lot! I’ll show him the way!”

“Okay, calm down. First we need to wake him up,” said Jack.

Voices came from outside. Jack moved to a window. He looked out into the courtyard. Two people were coming through the cloister, their heads down against the flying snow. One wore a dark cape, and the other a tan raincoat.

Jack turned back to Annie, a big grin on his face. “You were right! They found us! Teddy and

Kathleen are here!” he said.
“They’ll
know how to break the spell!”

“Of course!” said Annie, beaming. “Quick, let’s hide and surprise
them
for a change.”

“In there!” said Jack. He and Annie hurried into a long room off the tapestry room. They heard the door from the cloister open. They felt a rush of cold air. They heard footsteps.

Jack and Annie grinned at each other. Jack put his finger to his lips. Then a quick, nervous boy’s voice came from the tapestry room: “Grinda, they are not here!”

“I see that, Balor, but
look
—”

“Ahh! Is it
him
, Grinda?”

Annie grabbed Jack’s arm. “Balor? Grinda?” she whispered.

“Shh,” whispered Jack.

“Of course ’tis him!” said the girl. “I told you those Frog Creek brats would lead us to him! Get the rope ready!”

“Aye,” said the boy.

Jack and Annie carefully peeked around the
corner. They saw a girl and boy standing with their backs to them, facing the unicorn in the last tapestry. The boy held a thick black rope.

“Call out his name, Grinda,” said the boy.

The girl took a step toward the tapestry. She raised her arms in front of the unicorn.
“Dianthus!”
she called.

Wind whistled through the open doorway. The flowers in the tapestry swayed as if the wind
were blowing them. The scent of roses wafted through the room. The unicorn moved his head.

“Ohh!” whispered Annie.

“Get ready, Balor, to take him back to the Master,” said the girl.

Annie clutched Jack’s arm. “Who’s the Master?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” whispered Jack. “But I don’t think he’s a good guy.”

The girl turned back to the tapestry and spoke softly to the unicorn. “Come, come, my lovely Dianthus, stand up now. Come out of that old rug….”

The unicorn turned his head and looked out at the girl. The look in his blue eyes was ancient yet young, wise yet innocent. He lifted his head as if he were about to stand.

The girl nodded to the boy. The boy slowly coiled the black rope into a noose. The girl looked at the unicorn again. “Come to me, Dianthus!” she coaxed. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll love you and show you the way—”

“No, Dianthus!” yelled Annie. “Don’t go to her!” Annie and Jack bolted from their hiding place.

Balor and Grinda whirled around in surprise. They both had pale faces and pale shining eyes.

“Leave him alone!” Annie yelled at the strange pair. “You don’t love him!
We
love him!”

At that moment, there was a flash of light, and the unicorn in the tapestry leapt like a deer over the woven fence. Balor and Grinda shrieked and jumped back. Jack covered his head.

Then there was silence. Jack looked up. The tapestry on the wall was unchanged—it still showed a unicorn woven from yarn chained to a tree.

But standing on the floor of the museum was the most beautiful creature Jack had ever seen.

T
he unicorn had a broad milk-white chest and graceful neck. A tuft of hair curled under his chin. A long, spiraled horn rose from the middle of his forehead. He stood very still and very tall. His whole body seemed to be glowing.

Balor and Grinda just stared at him. They both looked frightened. But Annie stepped forward. “Hi, Dianthus,” she whispered. She reached out and gently touched the unicorn’s white chest. “Feel, Jack, feel his heart pounding.”

“Move away!” ordered Grinda. The girl stepped
between Jack and Annie. “He is ours and he is coming with us.”

“He’s
not
yours!” said Annie.

“Who
are
you, anyway?” said Jack. “Where did you come from?”

Grinda glared at Jack. “We come from the same magic world
he
comes from,” she said. “He belongs with us, not
you.
Balor!”

The boy shoved Annie aside and tried to loop the black rope around the unicorn’s neck. But Dianthus reared up and wheeled around, forcing Balor and Grinda out of his way.

Dianthus leapt across the tapestry room toward the garden. Jack and Annie followed him through the open doorway into the snowy cloister. Balor and Grinda charged after them. They pushed past Jack and Annie to Dianthus. Balor grabbed the unicorn’s blue collar. “You are coming with us, stupid, like it or not!”

“Don’t pull on him!” yelled Annie. “And don’t call him stupid!”

Dianthus tried to back up.

“Let go!” screamed Annie. “He doesn’t want to go with you!”

“He has no choice,” said Grinda. “As soon as that rope goes around his neck, all three of us will be instantly transported back to the Castle of the Dark Wizard.”

“No!” Jack shouted. He charged at Balor and tried to grab the rope from his hand. Balor let go of the unicorn’s collar and shoved Jack into the snow. Then he turned back to the unicorn and began to swing the magic rope like a lasso.

Dianthus reared up again and kicked his legs. Breath from his nostrils billowed into the icy air.

“A rhyme, Jack!” yelled Annie. “A rhyme!”

Kneeling in the snow, Jack yanked the book from his briefcase. He frantically turned the pages, looking for a rhyme they hadn’t used.
“Call a Cloud from the Sky?”
he shouted to Annie.

“Anything!” she called. “Try it!”

Jack read the rhyme aloud: