Sitting by the stable, Staplet rested his cloven hoofs on the turf and thought, piping a meaningless ditty to keep his thoughts moving. He knew not how to serve Sandretta, but knew he had to succeed, for the fate of the magic world’s sake. He could not fail.
As a novice, Staplet was not allowed to learn the Songs of Power, but he knew the changes, as most musicals did by instinct. He could improvise on the chords, and possibly hit upon the mighty tunes by chance. That might allow him to keep the baby unicorn safe indefinitely. But it was no good; even if he had the tune right, a handmade instrument would not afford enough force.
Another way must be found. Suddenly, he clicked his thorny nails together in elation. He had an idea. However, it was chancy, and it would have to be approved by the league’s elders before putting it into effect.
Or, he thought, a grin fleeing his face, he could steal away with Heliola and make her a hostel of his own, away from prying eyes.
He was just mad enough to consider it.