Her Face Was A Stranger’s Face, Which

He Thought, Or Said, Or Sang, I Did Not Know That I Was So Empty, To Be So Full.

The Unicorn Halted In Her Slow, Desperate Round Of The Cage, Realizing For The First Time That The Magician Understood Her Speech. He Smiled, And She Saw That His Face Was Frighteningly Young For A Grown Man-untraveled By Time, Unvisited By Grief Or Wisdom. "i Know You," He Said.

I Have Been Mortal, And Some Part Of Me Is Mortal Yet. I Am Full Of Tears And Hunger And The Fear Of Death, Although I Cannot Weep, And I Want Nothing, And I Cannot Die. I Am Not Like The Others Now, For No Unicorn Was Ever Born Who Could Regret, But I Do. I Regret.

No," He Repeated, And This Time The Word Tolled In Another Voice, A King's Voice... Whose Grief Was Not For What He Did Not Have, But For What He Could Not Give.

Marveling At His Own Boldness, He Said Softly, "i Would Enter Your Sleep If I Could, And Guard You There, And Slay The Thing That Hounds You, As I Would If It Had The Courage To Face Me In Fair Daylight. But I Cannot Come In Unless You Dream Of Me.