Would I want a Unicorn's horn? That's need to know, McQue, and you don't need to know. Besides," he settles onto his office chair, "as you said, the Unicorn doesn't exist. So why I want one is irrelevant, hmmmm? Why you want one, now, that's very relevant. Without it, you can forget about Melody. Now get out," he turns to the paperwork on his desk, "I have eviction notices to sign."
I stand there for a minute, too stunned to move, but there's little I can do. And it seems I have a mythical beast to find. I turn to go.
"Oh, McQue, one other thing." he says, not looking up from his papers.
I turn back.
"Taking a Unicorn's horn is fatal to the Unicorn. So anyone who takes the horn is guilty of a heinous deed. You'll kill a beautiful creature noted for innocence and goodness--all to satisfy your own, selfish desires. Despicable." He looks up, "So you see, McQue, this is sort of a win-win for me. If you do manage the impossible: find the Unicorn and bring me its horn, Melody will never forgive you. She'll drop you like the inexcrable piece of human detritus you are. If you don't find a Unicorn--far more likely--you can't complete the ritual and can't marry Melody." He smiles. "Have a nice day." He lowers his head to his work again.
No snappy comeback, no parting shot, I'm speechless for one of the few times I can remember. I open the office door to leave . . .
"And McQue," he sings in that sneering, superior voice of his. I stop halfway through the door. "It's October 29th. You have 24 hours to complete the ritual." He starts to laugh. "I guess you won't have a nice day, after all."
I leave his office and close the door on his merriment. I gotta get to Duck.
***
"The unicorn," Duck says, "is a mythical beast."
"What is this? Thurber appreciation week? I know, I know, already." I'm in Duck's "office"--a pawn shop just off the Treegreen town round. I've run my ritual assignment by him in the hopes he could help me. So far, uh-uh.
"So whaddya want from me?"
"Call in some favors from a coupla your contacts," I say. "You know a beast or two--a lot of them mythical."
"Lemme get this strait, McQue, you gotta find a unicorn and deliver its horn to Peter Drummond by midnight tomorrow. Otherwise, you can't marry Melody."
"That's it."
"Ordinarily," he muses, "I'd say that was a good thing. Marriage and me ain't exactly sympatico."