“Else mightest thou be Adept too,” Stile said, laughing to show the humor, though he suspected there was some truth in it. Every person could do some magic, but few could do strong magic. Stile’s own magic talent was reflected in the science frame of Proton as considerable ability in other things, such as the Game, and Hulk was almost as capable there. Hulk might be able to learn to be a magician, if he ever cared to try. Perhaps there were many others who could be similarly competent at magic, if they only believed they could and worked to perfect their techniques. But only one person in perhaps a thousand believed, so there were very few Adepts. Of course, the established Adepts ruthlessly eliminated any developing rivals, so it was safer to opt out of that arena entirely. The enmity of an Adept was a terrible thing.
Stile bid his final farewells, mounted Neysa, needing no saddle or bridle, and they joined Clip. The two unicorns trotted briskly out the gate. To an observer it would seem Clip was conducting his sibling to the breeding site, as required. The little bit of weight Neysa carried hardly made a difference.
It was good to travel with his unicorn again. Stile was not sure whether he could transport himself magically from place to place. If that came under the heading of changing his aspect before others, then probably he could; if instead it came under the heading of healing or changing himself, then he probably could not. So far he had deemed it expedient not to experiment; magic gone wrong could be fatal. So he needed transportation, and Neysa was the best he could ask for. She had been his first steed in this magic frame, and his first true friend. His love of horses had translated instantly to unicorns, for these creatures were horses: plus a musical horn that was also a devastating weapon; plus special gaits and acrobatic abilities beyond the imagination of any horse; plus human intelligence; plus the ability to change shape. Yes, the unicorn was the creature Stile had been searching tor all his life without realizing it until he met one.
Neysa, in girl-form, had become his lover, before he had met the Lady Blue and realized that his ultimate destiny had to lie with his own kind. There had been some trouble between Neysa and the Lady Blue at first; but now as oath-friend to the Blue Adept, the unicorn needed no further reassurance. In this magic frame, friendship transcended mere male-female relations, and an oath of friendship was the most binding commitment of all.
It was ironic that now that Neysa could achieve her fondest wish—to have her own foal—that oath of friend-ship interfered. Neysa’s logic was probably correct; Stile did need her to protect him from the pitfalls of this barely familiar world until he could deal with his secret enemy. Unicorns were immune to most magic; only Adept-class spells could pass their threshold. Stile had reason to believe his enemy was an Adept; his own Adept magic, buttressed by the protective ambience of the unicorn, should safe-guard him against even that level. As the Lady Blue had pointed out, the original Blue Adept had not had a unicorn to guard him, and that might have made the difference. He really did need Neysa.
