by E. D. Baker
Beating her wings, Millie rose into the air. She could see the knucker now, tearing across the countryside as it headed toward the bog in the distance. Millie wondered who would suffer more if the knucker were to meet the will-of-the-wisps. She was still feeling good when she dipped one wing and turned in the direction of the only village she could see. It looked tiny from a distance and not much bigger as she got closer.
Millie was looking for her friends, but she wasn’t surprised when a villager spotted her first. The sentry at the end of the lane near where they’d entered the village the day before saw her and began to ring the bell. Dragons have excellent eyesight and Millie could see the look of terror on his face. While she couldn’t be angry with the villagers for what they’d done, she didn’t have to like them and it gave her a certain sense of satisfaction to have gotten her revenge against them, no matter how small.
She was circling over the village, watching everyone run for cover, when she saw Zoë flying out to meet her. Certain that her friend would follow, Millie flew just far enough from the village that no one could see her and landed on the ground with a sigh.
“Did you use your magic to get free?” asked Zoë, settling on Millie’s shoulder.
“I guess you could say that,” said Millie. “Have you found Francis? They didn’t hurt him, did they?” Although she hadn’t been seeking revenge against the villagers, the thought that they might have hurt her cousin made her consider changing her mind.
“He’s fine,” Zoë said. “They tied him up and left him in a cowshed. He told me that they told him they were going to let him out tonight.”
“After they were sure we’d both been eaten,” said Millie.
“Probably,” said Zoë. “Francis feels just awful that you and I were taken. He was still unconscious when I found him and he felt sick when I told him what the villagers had done. I told him that we were all right, but he feels like such a failure. You know how much he wanted to be our protector. To top it off, he wants to be an invincible knight, but now he’s sure that everyone is going to know how easy it was to trick him.”
“I have an idea,” said Millie. “Francis has his armor in the acorn. Tell him to put it on and go to the center of town. I’ll meet him there when he’s ready. He’ll know what to do after that.”
Millie waited until she was sure that Francis had gotten ready before she returned to the village. No one else was outside when she saw him standing in the middle of the lane, brandishing his sword. Cupping her wings, she landed ten yards away and roared, fluttering the thatch on the nearby roofs and knocking over a pitchfork and a scythe left leaning against a wall. Doors that had been open a crack slammed shut. Somewhere a small child whimpered.
Francis’s helmet clanked when he nodded at her in salute. Raising his sword, he took two steps and shouted, “Have at it, foul beast. You’ll torment these kind people no longer!”
Determined to put on a good show, Millie took a deep breath and exhaled flame at Francis, being careful to keep her fire away from the too-flammable huts. Her cousin danced aside easily. Holding up his shield, he advanced on Millie with his sword aimed at her heart. Millie flamed again. The fire hit the center of the shield, flowed to the edges, and shot off the sides in every direction. Francis kept coming. When he was almost close enough to touch, Millie whirled around, lashing at him with her powerful tail. Francis leaped over her tail and somersaulted out of the way. Someone cheered in one of the houses behind her, stopping abruptly when Millie turned to look.
On his feet again, Francis aimed his sword at Millie’s neck. “Come closer that I can separate your head from the rest of your body,” he commanded.
“Come and get me, if you can,” rumbled Millie. Taking another deep breath, she waited until he was in position, then blew a tongue of flame that she let grow feeble and die.
“The dragon’s losing its fire,” a villager said from a partially opened door. “The knight might have a chance after all!”
Francis may have heard the man, because he lunged at Millie and continued to chase her when she darted out of the way. “I have you now!” he shouted as they ran through the village and out the other side. Once the forest hid them from sight, they slowed to a walk. Francis called out and slapped the flat of his sword against his armor to make the sounds of battle, while Millie roared and puffed smoke into the air so it could be seen above the trees.
“I’m getting tired,” Francis finally said. “Do you mind if we end this now? A little bit of blood would be really convincing.”
“Forget it, Francis,” said Millie. “There’s no way I’m going to let you poke me with your sword. Why don’t we try this instead?” With a final roar of anguish and a great puff of smoke, she rose into the air and flew in the direction of the village, letting one leg dangle limply and doing her best to make her flying look ragged and uneven. Hearing the villagers cheer below her, she let her head droop and flew off even more slowly, landing when she saw Zoë.
Her friend was a human once again when Millie found her. “Francis said he’d meet us here,” Zoë said.
“I hope he appreciates this,” grumbled Millie as she sat down with a sigh. “This is the last time I’m going out of my way to make anyone look like a hero.”
Twelve
They made good time by walking most of the day and well into the night and didn’t stop until they had reached the foothills at the base of the snow-cloaked mountains. Francis was delighted that they had lost Simon-Leo, although Millie kept expecting the troll to reappear.
Even from a distance the mountains exuded a bone-chilling cold that only got worse as the night wore on. Although they didn’t want to attract attention, they decided to build a fire to chase away the cold.
“You should have seen their faces when they came out of their huts,” said Francis as he tossed another log onto the fire. “I’ve never seen happier or more surprised people.”
Seated on the other side of the fire, Millie nodded. “And you didn’t even need my blood to prove to them that you were a hero.”
“I didn’t want your blood,” Francis said. “Any blood would have done just fine.”
“He wanted to stab me with his sword just so he’d be more convincing,” Millie said, turning to Zoë.
“I did not!”
“You were telling us about the villagers?” prompted Zoë. She shivered and pulled her cloak closer around her. She didn’t like the cold and this was more intense than anything they’d felt before.
Francis pulled a blanket out of his acorn and draped it around her shoulders and then sat beside Zoë and took her hands in his to warm them. “They cheered for me,” he said. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear them. Some of them slapped me on my back until they hurt their hands on my armor. They wanted me to stay to celebrate, but I told them I couldn’t.”
“We know what happens when you celebrate with them,” muttered Millie.
Francis shook his head. “They promised me that they aren’t going to do that anymore. They won’t need to since they think I killed the dragon.”
“And I chased off the real human-killer,” said Millie. “It wasn’t a dragon, it was a knucker.”
“The villagers believed it was a dragon and that’s what counts. Say, I thought knuckers ate things like vermin and farm animals,” said Francis.
Millie shrugged. “This one had acquired a taste for humans, too.”
“The villagers made me promise that I’d go back and visit them someday,” Francis added.
“That’s fine,” Millie said, “as long as you understand that Zoë and I will not be going with you. As far as the villagers know, that knucker ate us, bones and all.”
“They said they felt bad about that, especially since they thought I’d killed the beast.”
“Shh!” said Zoë. “Did you hear something?”
“Just my stomach growling,” Francis said.
“No, it was over there in those trees.”
“I don’t see a
nything,” said Millie.
“I don’t, either,” Zoë said, “but I could have sworn …”
“What’s that?” Millie squeaked.
An enormous shape had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, breathing heavily and waving its arms over its huge head. Francis dropped Zoë’s hands and reached for his sword.
“There you are!” rumbled a voice.
Millie was the first to realize who it was. “Simon-Leo! You found us,” she said.
“Not again!” muttered Francis.
“My mother taught us how to track people,” Leo said. “Sometimes she’d let our father go just so we could practice. You didn’t think I was gone for good, did you?”
Millie sighed. “Of course not,” she said, darting a glance at Francis, who was mumbling to himself. “But we’ve had a very eventful time since we saw you last. We were tricked …”
Zoë nodded. “And drugged …”
“And tied up,” said Francis.
“Good,” said Simon. “I was hoping it was something like that.”
“You said they’d run off and left us on purpose!” said Leo. The hand closest to him reached up and wiped a tear from his eye. “You said they didn’t want us around, just like everybody else.”
One shoulder shrugged. “I wasn’t sure,” Simon said.
“Then you shouldn’t have said it!” said Leo.
“Sit down and tell us how you found us,” Millie said before the heads could really start to fight.
“We followed your footprints for a time,” said Simon as the troll plopped down on the ground between Millie and Zoë.
“You mean I followed their footprints!” Leo exclaimed. “You fell asleep again.”
“It was boring,” said Simon. “So, what do you have to eat? I haven’t eaten in days. Leo devoured every toad we found last night and our stomach has been sour ever since.”
Francis didn’t want to share his food with the troll, but he looked into his acorn when Millie insisted. He was still rooting around when Millie felt a prickling on the back of her neck. She looked up and saw that Zoë was peering over her shoulder, and looking just as uneasy as she felt. “Do you feel it, too?” Millie whispered.
Zoë nodded. “Someone is watching us. I noticed it before, but then when Simon-Leo came I thought it had been him.”
“Here’s an apple,” said Francis as he handed the fruit to Simon.
“Is it poisonous?” asked Leo. “They give us indigestion. Our father used to give them to us before we went to bed at night. He said our stomachaches were all in our heads.”
“As far as I know, the apples are fine,” said Francis.
“It might be the villagers,” Zoë whispered. “Maybe they followed Francis.”
“Maybe,” said Millie.
“I’m going to take a nap,” said Leo. “Simon, it’s your turn to stay awake.”
“Thanks a lot,” Simon grumbled. A few minutes passed before he spoke again. Glancing from one huddled figure to the next he said, “Why are we sitting here wasting the dark when we could be walking?”
The only response was the crackling of the wood in the fire.
When Millie woke, snow was hissing softly as it fell from the sky. Zoë was curled up next to her as close as she could get, with Francis just as close on the other side. Snow had accumulated on them, making them look like a lumpy snowdrift in the all-white landscape.
Because it was already daylight, Millie half expected to find that Simon-Leo had gone to seek shelter from the sun, but he was there, feeding the fire and sitting exactly where he had been when she fell asleep.
“Why are you still here?” she asked as she wriggled out of her blanket.
“There’s a snowstorm, if you haven’t noticed,” said Simon. “I can’t see the sun, can you? We’ll be fine as long as the snow keeps falling. Wake up, Leo,” he shouted at his other head. “You like the snow. You’re going to love this.”
“Wha …,” said Leo, his eyes popping open. “Did you say there’s snow?”
Simon smiled. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Leo copied him, smacking his lips as the melting snow trickled down his throat. “You know what I want to do?” he asked his other head. “Snow trolls!”
“Don’t be such a baby!” said Simon. “We haven’t made snow trolls in years. Next you’ll want to have a snowball fight.”
“Good idea!” Leo said as he reached out and grabbed a handful of snow. Simon’s mouth formed an O of surprise when the snowball whacked him full in the face. He sputtered and coughed, then reached for some snow himself. Millie kept well away from the troll as the two heads pelted each other.
The sound of the troll shouting soon had Francis and Zoë up off the ground, although they kept their blankets wrapped around them.
Francis stomped his feet. “I’m freezing and we’re not even in the mountains yet! It’s only going to get colder,” he said, glancing at Zoë and Millie.
“You could use your magic to get warm,” said Zoë.
“So can Millie,” he said.
“I can warm myself,” said Millie, “but it’s not going to do you any good. Why don’t you make everyone some warm clothes? Zoë’s lips are turning blue.”
“I’m a knight, not a seamstress! I don’t know anything about sewing.”
“You don’t need to,” said Millie. “Your magic will do it all for you. Just try coming up with a spell that includes everything you want your magic to do.”
“I guess I don’t have any choice since no one else can do it,” he grumbled to himself.
Simon shouted and Millie glanced at the troll. Leo was shoving his other head’s face into the snow while trying to get rid of a mouthful of snow himself. Both troll faces were bright red and couldn’t have looked happier.
“I have a spell ready,” Francis said. “Now, don’t talk while I do this.”
A hat of fur, and gloves that will
Keep us from the winter chill.
Thick boots to make our toes stay warm
A cloak to block a winter storm.
Leggings make our legs stay cozy
Scarves to turn our faces rosy.
To keep us warm in this fierce breeze,
Bundle us in all of these.
Suddenly, they were all dressed in the warmest of clothes and no one was shivering. Francis turned a satisfied smile on his companions and said, “What would you have done if I hadn’t come with you?”
“Mmph!” Leo muttered from behind the thick red scarf that now covered his nose and mouth.
Simon looked at his other head with disdain. “Did the hats have to have tassels? And what’s that on my shoes?”
Millie glanced down at her own feet. The boots were made of some brown animal hide and were laced shut with a white cord that ended in fluffy white balls. Glancing at her friends, she saw that they were dressed in the same clothes in different colors.
“I like them!” said Zoë.
Millie thought Francis might have blushed, but she couldn’t be sure because most of his face was hidden behind a bright green scarf.
“Well, I feel ridiculous!” said Simon. “I don’t need these clothes and I’m not going to wear them!” He started to undo the fastenings on the cloak, but Leo slapped his hand away.
Pulling the scarf down from his mouth, Leo glared at his other head and said, “I don’t care if you like them or not. We’re keeping the cloak and the boots. These are the nicest clothes we’ve ever had and the first ones that weren’t handed down to us from cousin Wartlips-Stinkybreath.”
“I didn’t think you cared about clothes,” said Simon.
Leo turned his head away. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
Simon shrugged. “So, we’ll keep them on. Are you people ready to go yet?” he asked, turning to frown at the others. “This storm doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon.”
The snow had been falling steadily the whole time they�
�d been talking. Even the depressions left by their bodies had filled in.
Francis turned to Millie. “Which way do we go now?”
Although she already knew the answer, Millie checked her dragon sense one more time. “Through that pass,” she said, pointing to where two mountains met high above them.
“I’ll go first,” said Francis, pulling his tasseled hat down more firmly over his ears. “Who knows what we’ll find in those mountains.”
Thirteen
Millie and her mother both suspected that Millie’s limited magic was somehow bound to her dragon side. Like a dragon, she could perform simple magic without using spells or potions. Although she was hopeless when it came to changing objects or living creatures, Millie could make herself warm enough to dry her clothes or to stay cozy on a blustery day; she didn’t need the warm clothes Francis had created. She liked them, though, and appreciated his efforts so much that she wouldn’t have dreamed of turning them down.
Millie had other abilities as well, things that she’d never told her mother or her aunt or anyone else in her family. Just like Zoë could smell other vampires, Millie could sense the presence of magic. So when their hike through the foothills seemed to be taking an unusually long time, and they seemed to be climbing the same hill over and over again, Millie closed her eyes and listened. Under the whisper of the falling snow and the breathing of her companions there was a soft murmuring sound that she couldn’t identify except to say that there was definitely magic at work.
Focusing on the magic, she decided after a time that it was old and had been in place for many years. It wasn’t strong, but it didn’t need to be since all it was supposed to do was discourage people from going into the mountains. It would be easy to turn it aside for the short time they would need to pass it. While her friends complained about their aching legs and rumbling stomachs, Millie walked in silence, suppressing the magic of the hills while letting her own personal magic guide her footsteps.