Unicorns? Get Real!

Gundersnap said. “Look at that big tree over there!” Alicia pointed at an immense oak with low branches that flowed over the ground like dark rivers in the night.
    The four princesses ran over. There on one of the branches, with her short legs dangling in the night, was Berwynna.
    “I thought you’d never come!” she exclaimed.
    “What are you doing here?” Gundersnap asked.
    “Exactly what am I doing here? Out of the Forest of Chimes, exposing myself on a lawn with dancing princesses and princes? Only an emergency would bring me out like this. Why can’t you be where you belong?”
    “Where’s that?” Kristen asked. Gundersnap was beginning to have a horrible sinking feeling deep in her stomach.
    “In the hidden turret at the tapestry!” She paused. “And Gundersnap, a word for you.”
    “What?” Gundersnap’s voice was a raw whisper of sheer terror.
    Berwynna began in her creaky voice.
“Take that pouch with threads of gold
To make your stitches thick and bold .
Then a picture will appear :
A creature hurt, a creature dear .
On wings like silk you then will fly ,
And let us hope that he’ll not die .”
    “Menschmik!” The name ripped from Gundernsap’s throat in an agonizing sound.
    “Holy monk bones, we’re in the wrong place! We should be back at the castle, not here at this stupid boys’ camp!” The princesses looked at Alicia in amazement. This indeed was a turnaround for the Princess of All the Belgravias.
    Before the moon had risen, the girls were on their ponies riding hard back to Camp Princess.

Chapter 19
    DROPS OF BLOOD

    As they slid off their ponies, Kristen, Alicia, and Myrella were peppering Gundersnap with questions.
    “Did you understand the verse?”
    “What’s the wings like silk?”
    “I don’t get the pouch of gold. Whatever is the pouch of gold?” Alicia asked.
    “I told you. Remember when Gortle brought me the letter about Menschmik, he also brought me the clippings from Menschmik’s mane? Menschmik’s mane looked like pure gold. That’s why I called him Menschmik. It means ‘bright as gold’ in Slobo.”
    “You have to thread the needle with the hair from his mane, then?” Myrella gasped in excitement. “That’s probably why it didn’t work last time.”
    “Yes! It was a mess,” Gundersnap said.
    They ran first into Gundersnap’s chamber in the South Turret. From one of her bedposts hung the very ordinary-looking leather pouch with strands of Menschmik’s mane. She grabbed it and they dashed out, down the stairs, through the long corridor, and into the portrait gallery.
    “Hurry up! Hurry up!” Gundersnap ordered, almost dancing on her toes in front of the portrait of the Ghost Princess. It seemed to be opening more slowly than ever. At last the portrait swung wide open to reveal the winding staircase to the hidden turret. But it seemed again as if everything were moving painfully slow, as if in a bad dream. Gundersnap muttered under her breath that the number of stairs seemed to have doubled since they were last there.
    Her hands were shaking so hard when they arrived that she could not thread the needle. “Here, let me do it,” Myrella said. With her tiny hands and fingers, she quickly had four needles threaded with the golden strands from Menschmik’s mane.
    They all began sewing furiously. The picture seemed to grow and grow around the stitches they had originally sewn. Alicia, who was working on the head of the creature, blurted out, “It’s definitely not a pony. It’s a unicorn.”
    Then Kristen began to squint hard and sew faster. “This is unbelievable. This is totally ice. What we thought before was a complete royal mess isn’t at all.”
    “What is it?” Myrella stood on her tiptoes.
    “It’s Gundersnap! She’s riding the unicorn!”
    Then there was a small, sharp yelp. The three princesses turned toward Gundersnap. There were spots of blood on the tapestry.
    “Did you prick yourself? Here, let me see,” Alicia asked.
    “No! I did not prick myself. I sewed those. The gold thread turned red. I am stitching blood drops. They are drops of blood. Menschmik’s blood!”
    “The rhyme, the rhyme,” Kristen whispered. “Say it again. What does the rest mean?”
    Gundersnap began reciting the verse once again, slowly this time, as if she were almost chewing on every word.
“Take that pouch with threads of gold
To make your stitches thick and bold .
Then a picture will appear :
A creature hurt, a creature dear .
On