Pip Bartlett's Guide to Unicorn Training Read online

  Think on it! That meant he still might sell Regent Maximus!

  I stood there simmering and upset long after I heard the prince’s departing footsteps. Then I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I flung open the gate. I hadn’t realized Mr. Henshaw was so close, though—the gate crashed into him and knocked him to the lavender bedding. He slid toward Regent Maximus, who, for all his bravery in the ring today, had gone right back to being his same old self.

  “Oh! It’s a ground attack! He’s going for our kneecaps!” Regent Maximus screeched, clambering away.

  “Ground attack!” the babies cried with him. To my amazement, they began to leap away after Regent Maximus, mimicking his movements exactly. All the Unicorns came to rest in the far corner, near the blanket nests, and watched Mr. Henshaw pick himself up.

  “If I’d known I was going to be thrown again,” Mr. Henshaw observed, “I wouldn’t have taken off my helmet.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Henshaw,” I said, but my voice was sort of flat. In the distance, I heard Callie’s voice, still peppering the prince with questions.

  Mr. Henshaw sighed. I could tell he’d figured out that I’d heard about selling Regent Maximus.

  “Now, Pip, nothing’s decided. But showing a Unicorn is a lot more work than I expected. Maybe Regent Maximus would be happier in Galatolia, with other Unicorns,” Mr. Henshaw said.

  “But you had such a good time with him today!” I argued.

  Mr. Henshaw rubbed his elbow, which was still covered with dirt and slime from his trip through the water hazard. “I sure did. That’s why I only said I’d think about it. Don’t be upset, Pip. I know you work hard with him. And it’s not over yet.”

  Above us, a male Blankbird projected a picture onto a female Blankbird: It was a picture of my frown. I didn’t feel equal to words, so I just pointed up at it.

  Mr. Henshaw said, “Aw, Pip! I would never do it secretly, you know that, right? Whatever I decide, I’ll tell you first.”

  I kept pointing at my frown on the Blankbird.

  “Come on, let’s go find your aunt,” Mr. Henshaw said. “Remember, we still have to make it through round three!”

  Aunt Emma arranged for me to have dinner at Tomas’s house so she could take Callie to her dance lessons. I wasn’t too happy about it at first—the final round of the Trident was tomorrow, and it felt like I should be helping Regent Maximus prepare. But I had to eat, and I also had to admit that it was nice to get away from the showgrounds for a while.

  Ms. Ramirez sat us all down at the table. She was a fluffy woman who always looked very close to giving people hugs, which meant I tried to keep my distance. I liked her. But I also liked side hugs only.

  “Family discussion time,” Ms. Ramirez said, pouring herself a glass of tea. “First topic of discussion: Samuel, you burned this rice. How much is stuck onto the bottom of my pot now?”

  Samuel blinked at her. He was one of Tomas’s older triplet brothers. Even though they looked very similar, it wasn’t actually that hard to tell them apart. Mostly it was just hard to remember which name went to which triplet. The other two triplets guffawed.

  “You soak that pot,” Ms. Ramirez said. “I’m not scraping rice until my old age.”

  “Second topic of discussion,” Mr. Ramirez said. “How was the show today? Have they caught that tail cutter yet?”

  I shook my head. “The police came, though. They said they’re going to have an officer drive by a lot of times overnight to keep any more from getting cut.”

  “I just don’t understand why anyone would sabotage the show like that,” Ms. Ramirez said.

  “Ahem,” Tomas said. “Third topic of discussion.”

  All heads turned to him with various forms of surprise. I guessed Tomas didn’t normally introduce topics of discussion.

  “Yes, Tomas?” Ms. Ramirez asked.

  He stood so that he could reach into the backpack that he’d hung on the back of his chair. Removing a red folder, he placed it on the table in front of him.

  “I would like to get a pet.”

  Now we were all looking at him in surprise.

  “But your allergies,” Mr. Ramirez said.

  “A hypoallergenic pet,” Tomas explained. He opened the folder to reveal handwritten lists and photocopied images and the corner of a show bulletin. “I would like to get a Rockshine.”

  Now I was staring at him.

  “What is a Rock—What is that?” asked Ms. Ramirez.

  “I prepared materials,” Tomas said. He handed out five identical stapled packets to each of his siblings and his parents. “I didn’t make one for you, Pip, because you already know all about them.”

  I was still staring at him.

  His family read the pamphlets.

  “Fourth topic of discussion,” said Eric, one of the triplets. “These things are super brown and dumb-looking.”

  “Eric, you apologize at once!” said Mr. Ramirez. “Dumb is not a word we use in this house.”

  “Sorry,” Eric said. “I’m sure it’s a genius at math. Too bad no one wants a sheep that does math.”

  Tomas was unfazed. He pushed up his glasses and told his parents, “I would take care of it. They’re low-energy, and they don’t require a lot of space, so I could keep it in the backyard without messing up the grass.”

  “Fifth topic of discussion,” said Jorges, the third triplet. He tapped the sheet. “These things weigh three hundred pounds.”

  Tomas’s father rapidly paged through his pamphlet. “Wait, where does it say that? Do they really?”

  “Only mature males!” Tomas protested. “The breeder at the show has ones that are only one hundred. Pip, tell them.”

  I didn’t want to let him down, so I said, as nicely as I could, “Tomas is right—they’re around one hundred each. They’re actually one of the smallest varieties of magical livestock.”

  “We aren’t zoned for livestock,” Mr. Ramirez said. “The city and S.M.A.C.K.E.D. won’t allow it.”

  “No, no,” Tomas insisted. “I looked up the codes.” He was still completely unflustered—I was so amazed! He never stuck up for himself like this. “Three breeds of Rockshine are allowed inside Cloverton city limits, and that’s the kind I want. And you see on page four, turn the page—yes, that page. See, right there. And they are very hardy and live on regular hay, just one flake every three days.”

  His parents frowned at the pages. I leaned closer to Jorges so I could see what Tomas had given them.

  “And if you turn to page seven,” Tomas continued, “I prepared a financial report so you can see how my weekly allowance would cover the food and initial vaccinations so I’d only need your help if an emergency happened.”

  His parents made muttering noises. Ms. Ramirez ate some more rice. Sam offered me a fruit plate.

  “What is this last page?” Mr. Ramirez asked finally.

  Tomas said, “When I told Ms. Gould what I was doing, she suggested I put that page in.”

  I leaned over to look at it. It was a picture of Tomas and one of the Rockshines, clearly snapped at the Trident.

  “This is pretty touching,” Eric said.

  Tomas ignored this. To his parents, he said, “And I would use the money I was saving up for a new humidifier for my room to get one from Ms. Gould.”

  “Obviously, we’re going to have to think about it,” Ms. Ramirez said. She held up the papers. “Can we keep this?”

  “Those are yours to take with you,” Tomas said solemnly.

  “Maybe we’ll talk to this Ms. Gould person,” Mr. Ramirez said. “And your aunt, Pip. Do you have any thoughts to add?”

  I was pretty impressed by all the work Tomas had put into his presentation. I mean, I still didn’t like Rockshines all that much, but then, some people didn’t like magical creatures, or marshmallows, or books all that much. So I shrugged and said, “I bet Tomas would make a really good Rockshine owner.”

  Tomas beamed at me.

  Later, the two of us sat in
the backyard as I smacked mosquitoes and he drew another map. He was labeling places where the fence might need to be reinforced for a Rockshine. I doodled animals on the heel of my hand with a pen and thought about how Mr. Henshaw was considering selling Regent Maximus.

  Finally, I asked, “What do you think about what Callie says? About Mr. Henshaw being the person cutting the tails off?”

  Tomas sighed heavily. “I dunno. I like him, but …” He tapped his pencil on the paper. “It helps him out, doesn’t it? He had Regent Maximus for sale from the start of the show, and now that he’s doing better, people are asking about buying him …”

  I guess I had thought Tomas would say Callie was being silly. But maybe he had a point. Maybe Callie had a point. I thought back to the night of the emergency visit to the Rockshines, trying to sort out if the shadowy figure near Duchess’s stall was Mr. Henshaw. The person looked about Mr. Henshaw’s height. And I remembered how the policewoman said they weren’t able to get in touch with Mr. Henshaw.

  Was that because he was too busy running away with a Unicorn tail to answer his phone?

  “I don’t know,” I said reluctantly. “I wish there was a way to prove it one way or the other.”

  Tomas shrugged. “Just keep an eye on him before the Trident tomorrow, maybe.”

  I nodded. “Can you help, or will you be with the Rockshines?”

  He looked at me witheringly. “Come on, Pip. I wouldn’t miss Regent Maximus’s final round for all the Rockshines in the world!”

  Even if I hadn’t known it was the final round of the Triple Trident, I would have figured it out the minute I stepped onto the showgrounds the next morning. An additional huge yellow banner had been hung over the main double doors to enter the area. TRIDENT ROUND, it read. As soon as we stepped inside, a girl wearing a Triple Trident shirt handed me a brand-new show bulletin for the day.

  Just looking at it made me feel nervous for Regent Maximus, even without being worried about Mr. Henshaw and the Unicorn tails. Tomas and I had stayed up late making shirts for ourselves, Aunt Emma, and Callie that said TEAM REGENT MAXIMUS on them. Tomas had a second shirt that said ROCKSHINES RULE underneath his—so he could pull the top shirt off and wear the second for the Rockshine Special Show later that day. (He’d offered to make me one too, but I said no thanks.)

  It felt like everyone at the entire show had come to watch the final round. Vendors sold snacks and drinks by the seating area entrance. I saw the two police officers standing near the entrance, watching people carefully. Like Tomas had said: If the Unicorn tail cutter were to strike again, it’d have to be today.

  Aunt Emma, Tomas, Callie, and I found seats at the very top of the bleachers. Marisol and one of her sisters were nearby. I waved.

  “That’s your friend from EverSun, right?” Aunt Emma asked. “I hope their Unicorn does well. I feel so bad for them, that the other had her tail cut.”

  “Me too,” I said, and wondered again about Mr. Henshaw. Tomas met my eyes, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

  The crowd suddenly hushed. All eyes went to the judges’ podium. The announcer was standing up, and even from this far away, I could see his eyes glinting with excitement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” he said, voice booming. “The final round of the Triple Trident will now begin!”

  When I saw the first five beautiful Unicorn finalists mincing around the ring, their manes and tails streaming, it suddenly reminded me of just how excited I’d been to come to this show in the first place. They were so glorious that I felt a sudden urge to leap up and down, or squeeze my hands into fists, or draw a picture of the moment in my Guide. Instead, I furiously traced a Unicorn head on my arm with my finger, over and over again, grinning.

  The judges were just now walking to their seats, and I saw they were all wearing their fanciest clothes—Prince Temujin, who came out last, was even wearing a tuxedo.

  “Go Fortnight!” Marisol cheered.

  Tomas echoed, “Go Fo—” but then a blue bubble came out of his mouth. He dug in his pocket for his allergy medicine.

  The sixth Unicorn was Regent Maximus. He wasn’t really mincing like the others. It was more … power walking. Still, he looked pretty great. His rainbow mane and tail stood out among the other Unicorns, who all had solid-colored hair. I couldn’t help but notice how our training had paid off. Just a few days before, he’d had to stare at me the entire time while slinking through the ring on his belly. Now he was able to move with just a quick glance to me or to Mr. Henshaw. Practice really did make perfect! Or, well, partly perfect.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, for the final round of the Triple Trident, please welcome your Miss Triple Trident Tiara!” the announcer said. Behind the Unicorns came a girl wearing an enormously flouffy blue ball gown. She had a tiara that was at least a foot tall and was wearing a white sash that read MISS TRIPLE TRIDENT TIARA in big black letters.

  Because we didn’t have real royalty in Cloverton, the pageant queen would be the “princess” for the final round of the Trident. Each Unicorn had to lay its head gently on the princess’s lap, just like Unicorns in storybooks did. Unicorns would be judged on how beautifully and picturesquely they did so. I thought that even if Regent Maximus didn’t look particularly graceful, his bright white horn and rainbow mane would probably look pretty against the princess’s dress—

  “Uh-oh,” Tomas said.

  He had just had the same thought I had. I said, grimly, “Blue.”

  We hadn’t planned on Regent Maximus being faced with the color he was most afraid of.

  But there was nothing to be done about it now.

  One by one, the Unicorns trotted up to Miss Triple Trident Tiara and sank into dramatic and elegant poses to lay their heads down in her lap. The girl looked a bit nervous about it—who wouldn’t be alarmed by a three-foot-long Unicorn horn waving so close to her eyes?—but she pulled a smile out of somewhere and waved to the cameras that flashed wildly each time a Unicorn settled into its final pose.

  It really did look like something out of a storybook!

  Then it was Regent Maximus’s turn.

  “Blue! Blue! Why does it follow me everywhere?” he wailed as Mr. Henshaw led him toward the makeshift princess. “It’s always watching me from above! And now! Blue! I LOOK AT THE BLUE AND FIND IT IS LOOKING BACK!”

  A murmur of worry went through the crowd. Regent Maximus would never mean to hurt anyone, of course, but the horn on his head was gleaming and sharp. If he got scared and jerked away, things could go bad really fast.

  “You can do it, Regent Maximus!” someone cheered.

  It was Callie. I turned around and stared at her with surprise. But then Aunt Emma cheered too, and then Tomas, and Marisol, and the other Barreras, and me. Soon everyone in the entire ring was shouting for Regent Maximus! All the way from the top of the bleachers, I could see Mr. Henshaw blush.

  Regent Maximus couldn’t understand everyone else, but I saw him look toward me with big watery eyes.

  “You’ve got this!” I shouted. “Remember—the babies are watching!”

  More than anything else, this seemed to give Regent Maximus courage. He straightened just a bit, marching forward, and then slowly, slowly, slowly lowered his head onto Miss Triple Trident Tiara’s lap. He looked a little less noble and more like he might be sick to his stomach.

  But the crowd went wild anyway.

  He was not yet Jeffrey Higgleston’s Ideal Unicorn. But he was a lot closer than when we’d begun.

  The cheering went on and on.

  The judges nodded to the crowd, satisfied that they had all the information they needed, and walked back up to the booth to start figuring out the overall winner.

  There was nothing to do but wait! I leaned against the back of the bleachers and tried not to hold my breath in anticipation. Marisol hurried over to her family to wait for the results, while Aunt Emma started talking to some other grown-ups about the pink stripes in her hair. A couple of Blankbirds
were also chatting away just overhead.

  “I’ll tell you one thing: I’ll be glad when this contest is over,” the male said.

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Because look at all that popcorn,” the male Blankbird said, projecting an image of one of the Trident’s many popcorn stalls onto the female. “You know these humans can’t eat it all. They’ll throw it away.”

  “We’ll feast!” the female said excitedly. “Popcorn dance!”

  “Exactly,” the male said, sounding pleased.

  I laughed—I liked the idea of the Blankbirds throwing another big dance party the night that the show was done. Apparently, the Blankbirds did too, because the male continued to project images of different popcorn stalls onto the female.

  “Wait!” I gasped, so suddenly that the birds started. “Don’t fly away, please!”

  The birds peered at me and then at one another.

  Standing up, I leaned over the back railing of the bleachers, waving as the Blankbirds cocked their heads to one side and then, as a pair, cocked them to the other side.

  “Is she talking to us?” the male asked.

  “Yes! I have a question. You know about the Unicorns getting their tails cut off?” I called.

  The female Blankbird hopped up and down a bit. “Unicorns? Tails cut off? When?”

  “A few nights ago, a purple Unicorn named Duchess. And before that, an orange one named Forever Sunshine—”

  “Oh! I seem to remember. You were here that one night!” the female Blankbird said, then leaned toward the male to whisper, “She caught Alexandra and Joseph hosting their dance party, didn’t you hear?”

  “Yes! That night!” I said.

  “I remember it. We didn’t go to the dance party, because someone had left a bag of cheese puffs on the ground,” the male said.

  “Those were delicious,” the female added.

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure they were.” I tried to contain my hopefulness. “Did you by any chance get a look at who cut the Unicorn tails off? And can you show me, if you did?”

  “Hm. I think …” The male Blankbird projected images from that night onto the female.