This spell, while loosely based in the same principle, had taken the traditional cautions and laughed at them. The creator had set out to give herself a permanent alternate animal form that she could change back and forth between at will, without the aid of further magic. Frau Beck noted with interested horror that the spell did not have a way to specify what that alternate form might be; a cryptic note in the page margin indicated that it would be different for each person and it was impossible to tell until the spell was cast. Once set the first time, however, the alternate form would never change. So at least someone would never turn into a salamander when they thought they were about to turn into an eagle and discover this as they plummeted to a very messy death. Still, so many unknowns when attempting a spell this complicated, this painful to cast, and this permanent, made the audacity of this hedgewitch for even trying such a thing extraordinary.
Even more remarkably, the unknown hedgewitch had apparently been able create a formula using only local ingredients to the Alps, the largest proportion of which was edelweiss, referred to in the book as Alpine Star. Perhaps this woman had fashioned the spell so long ago that the networks of trade that existed between most hedgewitches to obtain ingredients not native to their own area had not been as extensive as they were now. As such, it was a remarkable achievement—though there was no way to know for certain whether it had been successful. It looked as likely as any other spell in these recipe books to perform exactly as described.
Still frowning, Frau Beck pulled out her notebook and copied the recipe exactly as it appeared, taking care to get down every detail, including the notes in the margins. She folded down the page corner of the notebook to indicate it merited further study, and replaced the original book on the shelf. The germ of an idea had started to take shape, deep in the recesses of her mind, but it was nowhere near fully formed. Closing and locking the door behind her, Frau Beck began to make her way back through the stacks to library’s entrance.
Still deep in thought, she rounded a corner, only to come face-to-face with the librarian she had been working with initially.
They stared at one another for a heartbeat. Frau Beck cursed mentally, realizing she must have spent more time with the books than she’d thought. Then she flung her tiny lantern at the librarian and when he flinched back, she reached into her pocket with her other hand and cast the invisibility spell on herself. In the next instant, she vanished, leaving the librarian blinking in confusion. She even remembered to scoop up the lantern as she fled, easing through the iron gate, hopping the desk, and slipping out the door, hopefully before the librarian recovered enough to pursue.
With luck, he would eventually dismiss their meeting as his imagination playing tricks on him. But in the meantime, it meant she couldn’t risk going back for a while, not even at night. The staff would be much more vigilant about checking for intruders, and the librarian would become more suspicious if he saw her again any time soon.
If nothing else, this incident was a sign. It was time to return to Brig, regroup, sort through her notes, and see what she might have learned that could be helpful. Nothing had immediately jumped out at her in the initial read-through, but she had jotted down so much in a fever of excitement that she might have overlooked something. It was certainly more than she’d had before. And in the meantime, one of her hedgewitch friends might have written her back.
Things were certainly looking more hopeful, and she boarded the train home with every confidence that she would discover a solution.
Chapter 9
At first he is content to wait for Wilhelmina to return. Lindworms are solitary creatures by nature; even as a very young lindworm he had never shared territory with his father. They had seen one another once every few weeks while he had still been living secretly in the walls of the city of Vienna. Even after the death of his father and the assumption of his full size, the lindworm still did not particularly pine for company. When the consequences for being discovered were potentially deadly, he told himself he did not mind very much the lack of companionship. Being alone was preferable to being dead. Most of the time, he was perfectly content with his lot.
But after only a few visits he has to admit he had grown attached to Wilhelmina. She is hardly ever at a loss for words, but she doesn't chatter in a way that makes him want to disappear into the mountains just for some peace. She is interesting, and has traveled far for a woman alone.
She understands self-imposed exile.
He wonders what she will find on her trip to Bern. He himself never dares get close to one of the larger cities nestled among the Alps, so he doubted he would ever see it. She seems to have taken his request to find a way to continue his line very personally after her initial angry refusal, and is throwing herself into the project. He wonders if she pursues everything with this kind of passion, or if it is just for him she made an exception.
So in the beginning, after her third departure, it seems nothing has changed. He goes out to hunt when hungry, dodges a few wandering goatherds. He even returns to the high meadow. It is still beautiful and peaceful, but he is troubled by the lingering sense that something is missing. Everything seems in place, but he can’t quite put a claw on it.
He catches himself wondering at odd moments whether or not she has departed for Bern. After a few days, he also realizes that he has been keeping close to the roads that lead there, in case he should catch a glimpse of her. He chides himself for being foolish. She wouldn’t walk so far; there is a train from Brig to Bern whose route he avoids thanks to his mental map of the mountains. Likely she would take that.
Despite the danger, he starts watching for the train, peeking through concealing pine forests and rockfalls to watch it chug its way along the tracks. From this distance, it looks like a child’s toy, the tracks only a glittering line snaking their way through the valleys. He won’t be able to see her even if she were aboard.
The weeks she said she'd be away seem to stretch unbearably long all of a sudden.
As the days stretch on, he makes certain to return to his cave every night, hoping that this time she’ll be there waiting. He chides himself, but he can’t seem to help it. He tells himself he’s only interested in finding out if there’s any hope he might not be the last of his line, but in his heart of hearts, just before he sleeps, he knows it’s more than that. He misses her.
Whether or not he believes her claim to be able to do magic with all of the plants she collects—that one whiff of her power at the very beginning, even though it didn’t work on him, mostly has him convinced, but his more skeptical, rational side isn’t sure—there’s something about her very person that attracts him. Perhaps it’s the way she adjusted to him so quickly, how she never seemed to question how there could be such a creature as him in the world. Or the way she faced her death, twice, without flinching, determined that she would meet it on her feet when it came. Or her vulnerability, carefully concealed, that came to the forefront when they talked of Allen and Karl. He feels as if he’s been shown something precious, that she felt safe enough with him to mention them.
She’s spoiled him for his usual solitary existence. Now that he’s gotten a glimpse of something else, his life doesn’t seem so perfect and predictable anymore. He isn’t sure he can go back.
How can one human woman cause so much turmoil?
By the third week, he’s inching nearer and nearer to the town, hoping to encounter her on her way to visit him. But still she doesn’t come.
He doesn’t notice until too late the bleating herd of sheep fleeing before him. By the time he does, and realizes he’s wandered into one of the larger meadows, the shepherds have seen him too. An older man with gray in his beard, and a boy half that age, stare in horror at the enormous green scaled lizard that has descended upon them seemingly out of nowhere. Then they scream, and begin to flee.
He has just three choices then: kill them, try to knock them out, or let them go. Even the first won’t guarantee he won’t be found
; if he kills shepherds this close to town, men will come to investigate. Predators are enough of a problem for the sheep and goats, but a predator that makes men vanish is deadly dangerous and must be hunted.
He could let them go and then disappear far into the reaches of the Alps. After nearly twenty years living here, he knows them as no man ever could. They could never find him even if they hunted for a decade.
But.
Wilhelmina promised to return. She might have information that would help him.
Or perhaps this is a sign he should have taken matters into his own claws years ago. He had promised his father he would live so their line could continue. Yes, he had lived, but he had not yet fulfilled the second half of that oath.
Suddenly he is angry, tired of waiting. Tired of always hiding.
It is like a dam breaking inside him.
So he chases the men down, and blocks their escape. While they cling together in terror, he demands that they send the bergermeister to speak with him. He threatens to ravage the town if not obeyed. He makes sure to say that he bergermeister must come alone, unarmed, and that at any sign of weapons he will attack.
Then he lets them go.
The bergermeister is there within the hour, panting at the climb up to the meadow. The lindworm has carefully concealed himself behind a boulder to make certain the promise of no guns has been honored, but steps out, crest flared ominously, when he sees his demands have been met. The bergermeister goes from red-faced to white in the space of half a second. Tremblingly, he listens to the lindworm’s demand.
A woman to bear him a child, and he will leave the town alone. Once she is successful, he will send her home again, depart, and they will never know he was there.
The bergermeister agrees, but asks for a day to find the right girl to send.
Chapter 10
Frau Beck stood looking around her at the train station in Brig. She was the only one to get off at this stop, which was a little unusual. She took a deep breath, remembering the first day she had come here looking for a fresh start. The crisp air had relaxed her, as it did now.
Then she glanced around, and a frown creased her face. It was quiet. Too quiet. Usually when the train arrived there was a bustle of humanity boarding, friends and family seeing people off or greeting arrivals, vendors selling food and drinks and other sundries. Today, the square around the train station was deserted. Now that the train had departed, not a sound stirred the air.
Frau Beck’s frown deepened. She made her way through the streets towards her own flat. Some windows were draped with black. She did eventually see some knots of people, who hailed her, asked how her trip had gone, as if things were normal. But she detected strain in their smiles.
She asked the third group what had happened to warrant the black banners.
Faces fell. “Ah, today is the funerals.”
“Whose?” Funerals, plural, she noted. “I’ll want to pay my respects to the family, if it’s not too late.”
“Little Kristina, and her grandmother.”
A gasp escaped Frau Beck’s lips. “No! They both passed, so close together? But I just saw Kristina before I left. She seemed healthy enough, and she said her grandmother was much the same. Is there sickness in town?” She wouldn’t have thought the pair would warrant such a town-wide show of mourning given the disdain or indifference most showed the rest of the time for Brig’s poorest. But of course she didn’t say that aloud.
The group’s expressions became stony, and guarded. “You should speak to the bergermeister if you want to know more. He brought this upon us.”
“Brought what?” Frau Beck braced herself, hoping she had enough stores to treat whatever illness had come to Brig in her absence and prevent more from dying.
“He brought the monster’s wrath. Now we’re just waiting for when it attacks again.”
Frau Beck went cold. She could feel her eyes widening, but she bit her lip rather than say anything else. Instead, she thanked the group and hurried away.
He wouldn’t… she thought. But he knew I was coming back! He was the one who wasn’t sure even writing to my fellow hedgewitches was a good idea. He wouldn’t reveal himself—they must mean something else. But what else? And what do the deaths of Kristina and her grandmother have to do with it? Herr Lindworm wouldn’t kill unless he were threatened, and certainly Kristina or her grandmother would have presented no threat. They’re both too ill to go more than a yard outside town!
Her mind kept swirling and presented her with no logical conclusions. She was missing something. And short of confronting Herr Lindworm himself, provided she could find him, the next best place to get answers was the bergermeister’s house.
Just because that was the last place she wanted to go didn’t make it any less necessary.
She found herself walking so hard on her heels that the shoes made smacking sounds against the stone road. She’d have to get ahold of herself and remain focused or risk doing something she, and probably everyone around her, would regret.
She considered entering the bergermeister’s house through the kitchen, as was her usual habit, but decided she had business with the bergermeister himself and would enter as a guest. Thus she walked straight up to the front door and knocked.
When the door opened, it was to reveal the bergermeister’s housekeeper, Signora Fratelli. While she wasn’t one of Frau Beck’s clients, they did know each other by sight. The housekeeper’s manner wasn’t overly hostile when she saw who was at the door. If anything, she seemed weary.
“How may I help you, Frau Beck?”
“I would like to see the bergermeister, concerning Kristina and her grandmother,” Frau Beck said, keeping her chin level and striving for a calm voice. “I have been away in Bern, and have heard only…troubling rumors about recent events here. I was advised to speak to him about it if I wanted to know more.”
Signora Fratelli hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. “Come in. Perhaps you can help, though I warn you Herr Telle is not in the best of moods.”
Neither am I, thought Frau Beck, but she kept that to herself. She followed Signora Fratelli into the house and to the door of the bergermeister’s study. A knock admitted them, and as she entered Frau Beck’s heart sank a little to see that Dame Telle was present as well, sitting beside her husband behind his big, heavy desk. But she steeled herself, determined to get to the bottom of whatever had happened.
Dame Telle’s mouth pinched. “What is she doing here?” she demanded, with a glare for Frau Beck.
“I came to inquire about the deaths of Kristina and her grandmother. They were both my patients, and you can imagine my surprise to return here and learn they had both died.” Frau Beck said, raising her eyebrows in her most innocent manner.
The bergermeister put a hand on his wife’s wrist. “Calm yourself, my dear. Frau Beck’s concern is only natural. I had wished to speak to her in any case.”
“Speak to me, sir?” Frau Beck asked.
“Yes. I have heard that you have spent some time this spring wandering the mountains alone.”
“I pick herbs for my remedies,” she replied.
He nodded. “And have you come across evidence of anything…unusual?”
“Unusual?” she repeated, keeping her face politely puzzled, though she sensed what was coming next. “Unusual flowers? No, not that I’ve seen. Everything you’d expect to find at this time of year.”
“Unusual animals. Something large, and unnatural.”
“No, sir, why do you ask?” Frau Beck shrugged to cover the brazen lie. She sensed telling the truth would do no one any good at the moment. “The townsfolk outside mentioned a monster, but I thought surely they must mean the monster of a disease, or some other disaster…are you implying the monster is real?”
“Very real. I have seen it with my own eyes. It appeared out of the mountains last week, a huge, hideous dragon, and demanded a young woman as a bride. Naturally, we obliged.”
Fr
au Beck felt her eyes start to bug out from her head, and didn’t need to fake her shock. “You did—what?” And then she realized what must have happened. “Kristina.”
A cold flare of rage kindled inside of her. Whatever else Herr Lindworm had done, and it sounded as if she needed to demand an explanation from him as well, the bergermeister, or his wife, would have been responsible for choosing one of the community’s most vulnerable as a sacrifice.
She stalked forward until she bumped into the desk. “How could you?” she snarled. “That poor girl—she wasn’t well, she had a grandmother who depended on her—you killed them both.”
The pair had the good sense to shrink back. “How are we to be blamed that the monster killed her and left her body for us to find? She would have made as good a wife to a monster as any of our other girls. The grandmother died pining for her granddaughter.” Dame Telle whined. “We were protecting everyone by what we chose. That’s the nature of sacrifice.”
“Keep telling yourselves that,” growled Frau Beck, thinking, It’s fortunate for these two I would never risk cursing someone in anger, or they’d both be beetles right now and I’d crush them beneath my feet. “You as good as killed them both yourselves. I hope you can live with that knowledge on your consciences.”
The Dragon & the Alpine Star Page 10