The whole crowd started. The purple-badged keepers holding the twin tethers of the silver halter stood riveted, clearly astonished by the godking’s summons. Again, impatiently, Dai’chon cracked its vine. Tai-shan saw the daïcha’s look of puzzlement change to one of alarm as the chon’s minions began to tug him toward the stone platform. The lady took a step forward, as though to intervene, then caught herself. Champing and dancing, Tai-shan suffered himself to be led forward. What choice had he? There was nowhere to run.

His keepers halted before the dais. The lowering face of the godking glared down at him. Cavaling, the dark unicorn laid back his ears. Slowly and deliberately, Dai’chon held out the skewer. The crowd gasped in dismay. A single, bitten-off cry rose from the daïcha. Tai-shan saw her standing as though stunned, one hand to her lips. Her companions behind her murmured wide-eyed, some shaking their heads.

Suddenly, the daïcha was striding forward. She looked both angry and afraid. Halting before the dais, she cried out to the godking in exhortation and appeal. She seemed to be pleading with the figure above, very vehement. Tai-shan backed and sidled, pulling the chon’s purple-badged minions with him. The godking, still clutching its skewer and flail, stood with forepaws upon its hips. Slowly, silently, it shook its head at the daïcha and gestured once more with the skewer toward the dark unicorn.

Obediently, the pair of keepers tried to guide their cavaling charge toward the half-dozen chosen daya waiting on the far side of the dais. Snorting, Tai-shan braced himself, set his heels. The daïcha cried out again, desperately. She looked as though she might rush up the stone ramp flanking one side of the platform to confront the godking face to face.

Angrily, Dai’chon gestured toward a knot of purple-plumes, who started forward as though to pull the lady back from the dais. Drawing their weapons, her own green-plumed followers hastened to intercept them. With a shout, the daïcha threw up one forelimb to halt her followers, shaking her head. Both parties milled uneasily, the purple-plumes clearly reluctant to lay hands upon the lady, even at the order of Dai’chon, the green-plumes seemingly unwilling to clash unless their leader were more explicitly threatened. The godking turned once more toward Tai-shan.

“Flee, my lord Moonbrow!” Across the yard from him, Tai-shan saw Ryhenna rear up suddenly among her fellows. “Flee now–ere the god ordereth his chon’s guard to drive thee over the cliff!”

All around her, daya shied in confusion. Startled two-foots scattered. Their cries amid the sudden commotion halted Dai’chon, his skewer and flail half-raised. Ramping and flailing, the coppery mare plunged through the sacred herd. In the same instant, Tai-shan wrenched free of his keepers’ grasp and wheeled to face the sacrificial daya.

“Run! Run, all of you!” he shouted. “Only death lies beyond the drop. Flee for your lives!”

Between the platform and cliffs edge, the sacrificial daya danced anxiously, tossing their heads violently and rolling their eyes. They seemed more afraid of him than of their own captors, the dark unicorn realized in dismay. Two-foot keepers stroked and soothed their skittish charges. At an impatient gesture from Dai’chon, Tai-shan saw his own pair of keepers starting toward him. With a peal of rage, the dark unicorn flew at them. Shouting, they scrambled away through the scattered hay and wood shavings. Behind, the sacrificial daya shied. Keepers grasped halter leads in both forepaws, struggling to hold them.

On the stone platform before them, Dai’chon cried out. Tai-shan spun around, startled to hear the godking’s voice for the first time. It was low-pitched and strangely muffled, like a cry from deep underhill. The godking gestured with its skewer, and several of the purple-plumes cast aside their staves, rushing Tai-shan with forelimbs outstretched to catch his tethers. The dark unicorn charged them, lashing with his forehooves. The purple-plumes dodged, crying out in fear. Across from him, many of the daya around Ryhenna had already bolted. Others now fought their tethers, screaming to break free.

Tai-shan saw the daïcha’s green-garbed followers striving desperately to hold and calm what daya they could. Their lady stood poised, as though uncertain. Then all at once, she rushed to snatch a tether from her minion’s grasp. Shouting, she struck the frightened mare across the flank, sending her careening away after the others that had broken free. Calling sharply to the rest of her followers, the daïcha dashed among the remaining daya, waving her forelimbs and hying the last of the skittish beasts to bolt. The throng about the palace surged to their feet and erupted in chaos as stampeding daya hurtled through their midst.

Tai-shan circled, making to herd the sacrificial daya away from cliff’s edge. Dai’chon’s muffled shouts and angry gestures continued. More of the chon’s purple-plumes responded, some turning to chase fleeing daya, others coming on toward Tai-shan. At a shout from the daïcha, her own green-plumed guards hastened to form a line before the advancing purple-plumes to prevent their reaching the dark unicorn. Ushuk thundered past just as the green-plumes closed ranks.

“Blasphemer!” the umber stallion shouted, storming toward Tai-shan. “How darest thou defy the will of the god?”

The dark unicorn ducked and fell back, too surprised at first to defend himself.

“Homat! Ushuk, stop!” Tai-shan heard Ryhenna crying. She, too, had broken through the daïcha’s line of green-plumes. “Did thy first encounter with black Moonbrow teach thee nothing? Thou’rt overmatched!”

The umber stallion responded with a growl. “Cursed mare, to join this punuskr–this demon—in defiance of Dai’chon. Thou shalt share his fate!”

Again he flew at the dark unicorn. Once more Tai-shan dodged and fell back, sidestepping the abandoned conveyance resting on the ground before the godking’s dais, its bearers long since fled.

“I served the godking joyfully all my days,” the umber stallion cried, his eyes wide and bloodshot, the snorted spray from his nostrils flecked with blood. “In the end I proved unworthy, and he cast me aside. Yet still I worship and adore him. Dai’chon undan ptola–the godking’s will be done!”

Ushuk lunged, flailing recklessly at Tai-shan. Unwilling to use his horn against a flatbrowed adversary, the dark unicorn reared and threw one shoulder against the other. Ushuk’s hind hooves skidded on the soft, slippery carpet of wood shavings. One pole of the chon’s raft caught his legs. Thrashing, the umber stallion toppled. Tai-shan heard the daïcha’s horrified cry as, squealing in pain, Ushuk struggled up from the chaff and tinder, one foreleg shattered.

“Himay,” he heard the daïcha calling. “Ushuk, himay!” Stand still.

The dark unicorn recoiled in dismay. The limbs of daya must be fragile as deer’s! Ushuk staggered, blundering on three limbs back through the ranks of the green-plumes still holding off the chon’s purple-plumed guards. At a snarl from Dai’chon on the platform above, purple-plumes surrounded the injured stallion.

“Tash—‘omat!” the lady cried: No—stop!

Ignoring her, the godking made a furious gesture. One of the chon’s minions lifted a thin slice of skystuff to the great vein of Ushuk’s throat and drew the blade across. The umber stallion collapsed with a shriek. He thrashed for a moment, blood spattering the bone-dry tinder. Then he lay still. The dark unicorn stared, stunned, unable to take it in. With a healer’s care, Ushuk’s limb might have mended! Shaken and sick, Tai-shan backed away.