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150 pages, Hardcover
Published November 26, 2018
The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam, but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea. … [T]he long horn above her eyes shone and shivered with its own seashell light even in the deepest midnight. She had killed dragons with it, and healed a king whose poisoned wound would not close, and knocked down ripe chestnuts for bear cubs.But after the first couple of pages, The Lost Journey veers off from the path of the novel, heading down a road that is new and unfamiliar to both readers and the unicorn. It begins with the oily, sulphurous reek of a maudlin dragon, who informs the unicorn that all of the other unicorns have disappeared. So the unicorn sets off on a journey to try to find the others and (after a couple of additional familiar scenes from the later novel) comes across a two-headed demon, who accompanies her on her travels. The dizzily mad butterfly makes his appearance, but there’s no red bull (notwithstanding the cover image on this book), no wizard named Schmendrick, nor insightful woman named Molly Grue - the “true heart of The Last Unicorn,” according to Beagle in his afterword.
Whatever it was that screamed in the city had broken its prison long before and invaded them all. It was their screaming now, their own crushing rhythm, and if it had suddenly stopped and they had stood still to hear themselves speaking, to understand what others were saying to them, they would have gone mad with fear instantly, instead of slowly.The disturbing imagery of a great, dark city is reflected, in somewhat lighter fashion, in the ancient two-headed demon who keeps the unicorn company. One head, Azazel, is the more traditional demon, bound to the old ways they did things in Hell and disturbed by change; the other head, Webster, cheerfully thrives on anarchy (his destructive actions got them both exiled from Hell). Beagle comments in his afterword that their snarky interactions with each other reflect the way he and his friend Phil talked with each other (still do, in fact).
But the girl was another matter, for she smelled like a forest far more beautiful than the unicorn's own, a wood full of birds bright enough to blind; of strange, singing beasts, and of trees like waterfalls. This is the way that virgins smell, and unicorns, who dream of that forest whenever they sleep, serve and guard all virgins, and come when they call, and know when they marry.