Silvranja of the Silver Forest

By Laraine Anne Barker

After her mate is killed by an evil that is relentlessly driving unicorns to extinction, Argent takes her foal Silvranja to a huge cavern full of their ancestors’ bones. There Silvranja is cared for by the Piksenvolk, a race of small people who live in Piksenville under Geheimberg (the Secret Mountain) while Argent goes in search of the legendary Albishadewe to take the place of her murdered mate. But the evil that killed Quicksilver succeeds in killing her too. Silvranja, fearing she is the last of her species, soon learns that other species, even humans, are threatened with extinction. To restore the balance of nature she must leave the safety of her secret hiding place to find Albishadewe and help the humans in a fight for the survival of the land. In doing so she is forced to learn what it’s like to be human and nearly loses her life and that of her unborn foal.

Shortlisted for the Tom Fitzgibbon Memorial Award in 1998 (when Vince Ford's comedy 2MUCH4U was the winner).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laraine Anne Barker
• Release date: May 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9780987665072

Laraine Anne Barker

Laraine Anne Barker has always enjoyed telling stories. As a child, when playing with dolls with her younger sisters became boring, she would make up stories featuring the dolls. She also remembers how she and her sisters wrote stories into exercise books and even illustrated them, using crayons to colour them because they found that rubbing on the crayon pictures gave them a shine similar to that of glossy colour pictures in magazines. Laraine submitted her first book (for adults) to a publisher at about the age of 21 and received a very kind rejection letter in which the editor suggested the story could be rewritten for young readers. She regrets she didn't keep the rejection and follow up on the advice. She didn't start writing fantasy for young readers until 1986. After many rewritings the book started then became The Obsidian Quest (published under the Hard Shell imprint of Mundania Press). The Obsidian Quest was a finalist in The Dream Realm Awards 2001 and was followed by Lord of Obsidian and The Third Age of Obsidian, also published under the Hard Shell imprint of Mundania Press. The Mark Willoughby series was started in 1992. Silvranja of the Silver Forest was short-listed (one of three) in 1998 for a major New Zealand prize, The Tom Fitzgibbon Memorial Award.

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About Silvranja of the Silver Forest

Silvranja and her mother Argent seem to be the sole surviving members of the unicorn species. Argent, in search of the legendary Albishadewe to replace Silvranja's father (murdered by the evil relentlessly driving them to extinction) is also killed, leaving her just-weaned foal alone. Silvranja soon discovers hers isn't the only species threatened with extinction. To restore the balance of nature she must help the humans of her land. In doing so she is forced to learn what it's like to be human and nearly loses her life.

PART I:

1

Silvranja shifted uncomfortably on the huge bed of her ancestors’ bones. The resulting clatter, amplified by the vastness of the surrounding cavern, made her start. She sighed. After the forest’s tranquillity she simply couldn’t adapt to an environment where the least movement made so much noise.

In the light from the hovering, ever-present tongues of fire she gazed around. Long ago the Chief Piksenlord of the little race of Piksenvolk had created this great cemetery for her kind, leaving two Piksenflames to guard the sacred place. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see the walls. To think the Piksenvolk had gathered every dead one of her kind they could find and brought it here!

The light from the flames caught the smooth surface of one of the bones Silvranja had displaced. Straight, sharply pointed and nearly sixty centimetres long, it flashed silver light into her eyes as it settled into a new position.

Possession of that beautiful bone was the main reason for the plight of her species. To Silvranja’s knowledge she and her mother Argent were the sole survivors. The only other of whom she’d heard, Albishadewe, had never been seen, so clearly he was just a legend. Argent seemed convinced if she could only find Albishadewe their kind could recover from certain extinction.

Silvranja raised her head and sighed again, longing for her mother. Whatever had possessed Argent to risk unimaginable danger—maybe even death—in seeking a myth?

She gave another sigh, striving to repress images of what could be happening to her mother. There was no point worrying about something beyond her control. And she mustn’t dwell on the calamity that had driven Argent to bring her here. It only gave her nightmares. But being cut off from sunlight, fresh grass and room to exercise couldn’t possibly be good for such as she. Even a wild horse’s offspring enjoyed a measure of security at its mother’s side.

Except, unlike wild horses, her kind hadn’t been safe for countless generations on Lazaronia’s grasslands. The silver-ivory hunters had forced them to adapt to grazing the protective expanses of the Silver Forest’s boundaries many centuries ago.

Silvranja’s mind envisaged the silver-backed canopy that gave the vast Forest of Argentsiana its popular name, for silver beeches grew nowhere else in Lazaronia. If only she and Argent could return, could experience again the forest’s living magic!

However, it would be ages before she saw her birthplace outside her dreams—if she ever did. For an evil power that had been trying for centuries to breach the defences of its sacred trees had finally succeeded. Silvranja had been present. Shuddering at the memory, she lowered her head and wearily closed her eyes.

And within moments of sleep claiming her, the dreams crowded in …

2

To Silvranja, revelling in the Silver Forest’s endless sense of enchantment as she foraged at Argent’s side, it was just another ideal early summer day. However, although accustomed to a high-strung mother, she soon noticed Argent was nervier than usual, continually staring over the grassy plains and hills once browsed by their forebears, ears and nose twitching.

Silvranja copied her mother’s uneasy behaviour. However, she couldn’t see, hear or smell anything amiss. Of course, humans had abandoned noisy horseback to hunt her species aeons ago. Also, they could now disguise their pungent aroma. Therefore, if they succeeded in penetrating the forest’s defensive spell they would strike with silent, odourless cunning.

So why did Argent keep sniffing the air?

What’s wrong? Like all her kind, Silvranja communicated in mind pictures.

Argent had no chance to answer. An enormous black shadow swooped overhead, darkening the forest canopy. A wyvern! The mere closeness of one of the alien two-legged dragons that had helped to all but wipe out Lazaronia’s own four-footed species was enough to make Silvranja as jittery as her mother. Never before had a wyvern managed to fly so low over the forest, nearly clipping the treetops.

But the threat passed. With the shadow gone the forest’s silver dappling returned.

Silvranja and Argent dropped their gaze in relief—only to receive a greater fright. On the forest’s fringe, against a massive silver beech trunk, stood a man. His robes—of red and blue merging to purple, elaborately embroidered in silver and gold and encrusted with jewels—gave Silvranja the impression he might be a king or emperor.

And then she saw, with further shock, that he was the living image of King Lazarone the Third. Although Silvranja had never seen King Lazarone, Argent had relayed vivid images to her of what he looked like.

But the King was dead.

Moving to protect Silvranja, Argent faced the man, who responded by raising his hands, palms out. Although Silvranja still sensed her mother’s tension, her own instantly slackened. He obviously meant no harm. Besides, if he was King Lazarone he must be a spirit. The forest would surely welcome King Lazarone’s ghost.

As though to confirm the figure was indeed an apparition, it started to waver and blur as if about to fade. However, the intruder’s open-palmed gestures clearly hadn’t convinced Argent, who lowered her head. Silvranja could hardly believe the message she now sent: Get out or I’ll attack.

By now the man’s form was so badly distorted he looked like shapeless, unevenly dyed garments flapping on a clothesline and striving to imitate a living being by filling themselves with air. At Argent’s threat he shot out both hands, fingers pointing—fingers gaunter than a skeleton’s.

From those threadlike fingers purple lightning blasted, lighting up the forest for acres around. Instinct made Silvranja and Argent leap away. But the bolt sped over their heads. They stopped and turned in surprise—just as an ominous crack sounded from above. With Argent thrusting Silvranja ahead to protect her, they both fled, pursued by the tearing groans and shrieks of a slaughtered forest giant. Seconds later the silver beech crashed exactly where they had stood.

Silvranja received the eerie perception of a rage beyond the experience or grasp of mortals—towering, perhaps even deadly, but now strangely powerless—as though the death throes behind were those of a god hewn down in treachery.

This time neither of them dared glance back.

Hours afterwards, they stopped running. Trembling all over, their sides heaving, they looked around—to find themselves in such a dense part of the forest that little light reached the floor. In fear they looked back the way they had come.

At least he hasn’t followed, Silvranja sent.

Argent sniffed the air. Yes. But was it his own choice rather than because of an outside force? For that was Ignarius, the late King Lazarone’s twin. Two thousand years ago Lazarone the First, known as the Godking, was murdered by his twin brother, also called Ignarius. Some say the first Ignarius lives again in this one.

Silvranja shivered. Is it true this Ignarius also killed his brother?

Argent’s eyes darkened with grief. It was one of our kind—Quicksilver, said to have sired the elusive and legendary Albishadewe—who killed Lazarone the Third. But all creatures except humans know Ignarius bewitched Quicksilver into believing it was Ignarius rather than the King on his back. Quicksilver, hopelessly deranged by Ignarius’s spell, threw his rider and savaged the fallen King. Ignarius’s archers shot Quicksilver and Ignarius claimed he was Lazarone and that it was Ignarius who’d been killed. But he couldn’t fool Queen Esmeralda. Argent paused, sighing heavily. Since then we’ve been hounded more mercilessly than we ever were by the silver-ivory hunters. Esmeralda, I suppose, has had enough trouble keeping her rightful place as Regent until her daughter comes of age to worry about creatures like us.

Silvranja was still puzzled. If Ignarius is so great a sorcerer that he can resurrect himself, why did he break up like an ill-formed ghost?

Because at the moment that’s exactly what he is. It’s said the Goddess Lazaria had the bats carry him to a place of eternal sleep, but he managed to send his spirit out on the wind to later reunite with his body and release it. The Goddess, unable to make his spirit return immediately to his body so the bats could carry them both to eternal sleep, swept the spirit out into space to the farthest corner of the farthest galaxy. Even so, it’s only a matter of time before body and spirit reunite. When that happens I hate to think how powerful Ignarius will become.

Dry leaves gave forth uneasy, papery sighs under Silvranja’s hooves. Can he reach us here?

Silvranja sensed the anxiety she hadn’t intended projecting was responsible for the pause before Argent replied. I imagine so. Eventually. But we can’t wait to find out. Besides, if we stay here we’ll have to live entirely on fallen leaves, which isn’t good for one as young as you. So tonight I must leave you to seek the help of the Piksenvolk.

They browsed the forest floor until twilight, when they rested in a hollow between some gigantic exposed silver beech roots. The forest turned darker as the minutes passed until it looked as if everything was painted black, but with frequent furtive noises all around they couldn’t sleep.

The moon had been risen some time before it was high enough to filter its light through the canopy. Then it was as though the underside of the silver leaves turned to face the moon, catching and reflecting downward every scrap of moonlight. The stealthy rustlings increased. Silvranja and Argent stared at the astonishing number of creatures revealed. Silvranja saw a large bird with a long beak foraging the forest floor. Then the huge golden eyes of a small animal with glossy black fur attracted her attention as it ran up a tree and started munching on the leaves. Neither took