“It is a tragic tale,” Damselfly sympathised.
“I wish he had never come here,” Beatrix added angrily.
“Did you ever see the sorcerer perform magic?” Damselfly questioned.
“No,” Beatrix answered. “He carried this silver vial around his neck and spoke strange words none of us understood. In truth, he gave me the creeps.”
“Thank you for telling me all this.”
“I cannot believe the Princess of Thronegarden is thanking me,” Beatrix giggled.
“Remember, it is our secret,” Damselfly reminded.
“Of course,” Beatrix agreed.
The innkeeper’s daughter meekly gave Damselfly a hug before scampering away, leaving the princess feeling surprised and happy by the acquaintance.
After Beatrix departed, Damselfly lay down although she could not sleep in her excitement over the story. Then she noticed a shape in the darkness and realised that Morris was watching them.
“The sorcerer was Blakast, wasn’t it?” the princess asked.
“He promised to make things right,” Morris replied.
“You convinced the others to help him,” Damselfly stated.
“I didn’t know what he was going to do,” Morris cried.
“Everyone was desperate; they needed hope that things might improve and I thought this was our chance.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Damselfly declared.
“It was,” Morris confessed. “I heard Blakast talking before he betrayed us. I just did not want to believe it had all been for nothing.”
“What did he say?” Damselfly enquired.
Morris took a deep breath to compose himself and wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Blakast was using the instrument to hold moonlight; he believed it could pierce the barrier between gardens and even free the Fairy King from his exile in the Evergarden.”
“Did it work?” Damselfly questioned.
“He did not free the Fairy King, though soon after I overheard his conversation, Sprites began to turn up in Wintergarden and how else could they have escaped the Evergarden?”
Moonlight, could that really be the secret of reaching the Evergarden, and if so, how was Damselfly going to get hold of it?
“I thought with you being the princess perhaps you could help us,” Morris enquired. “The king would be able to resolve all our problems.”
“I’m not sure. He is very busy,” Damselfly stalled.
“I heard you tell Beatrix that it was the Magicgarden you were trying to reach in order to save the queen. Well, I happen to have the only token for the gate in Wintergarden and I will give it to you in exchange for dealing with the Peritwinkle.”
The innkeeper held a small, battered token in his hand idly. Damselfly knew it was their only chance of continuing the mission and saving her mother.
“I will do it,” Damselfly replied with false confidence. “I will face the Peritwinkle.”
Chapter 7
The Scariest of Times
It was strange to Damselfly waking up in what felt like the middle of the night, with moon and stars still glistening in an unfamiliar dark sky. A gusting wind assailed the Woodcutters Inn, which groaned under the assault. Damselfly remained determined to fulfil her deal with Morris, although the thought of returning to the wood and facing the Peritwinkle terrified her. After a meagre meal of watery stew, Damselfly prepared to depart. Beatrix attempted to hold back tears while Morris at least had the decency to look demure. Buttontail was surprisingly quiet although Damselfly was too wrapped up in her own fears to truly notice. Morris had apparently spread the news of Damselfly’s mission so that the whole village had turned out to see them off. The princess felt rather unworthy of the attention although she did appreciate the people’s kind words and gifts. One young couple presented her with a wolf skin fleece which she gratefully put on over her fairy wings to keep her warm and avoid them catching on any more branches. An elderly man presented her with a rough map, which included many of the stars. Damselfly found the cartography exceptionally detailed and wanted to ask how it had been made but there was not time. Finally, the local blacksmith stepped forward rather sheepishly and gifted Damselfly an old rusted sword that looked like it might be a better backscratcher than a weapon to slay a fearsome beast.
“Thank you all very much,” Damselfly said gratefully.
“I wish there was more time to get to know all of you. Perhaps one day there will be and I should enjoy that very much.”
Many of the crowd averted their eyes fearing these words about the future were doomed from the start. For what could a child do against a monstrous Peritwinkle?
“Come on, Buttons, it is time to go,” Damselfly announced.
The frightened rabbit was hiding behind Beatrix’s leg and shook his head with both ears flattened. Damselfly felt the refusal like a physical blow and staggered a moment before remembering her mission.
“Thank you for saving us from the Peritwinkle,” one man shouted.
“I will do my best,” the princess replied before forcing herself to take the first step in a journey that would take her into danger.
Damselfly knew her way back to the woods; with villagers having described the path and her handy map, it was a simple route. Her new coat helped keep the wind at bay although her nose and ears were stung. She utilized the sword to dig a path where the snow was thickest. Unfortunately, the tip snapped when it struck a hidden rock, and Damselfly was left with a two-foot blade with no point. Snow fell endlessly from a dark sky. There was enough light provided by the moon and stars so that Damselfly could at least see where she was headed. Wintergarden seemed a long way from home. Damselfly had never ventured this far before and the isolation was disheartening. Thinking about her mother only made Damselfly sad and the deal she had made with Death appeared impossible. Even if she could survive the Peritwinkle and Morris gave her the token that would only get her to the Magicgarden. She would still have no way of reaching the Evergarden or stealing the timepiece from the Fairy King. The innkeeper’s story about Blakast focused the princess’s mind. She considered the possibility that moonlight could be used to break the barrier between gardens and although the idea was unproven it seemed possible. The moon had been gaining greater control ever since he escaped from The Lady of the Lake, taking dominion over the seas and instilling a mania across the land during fulfilment of the lunar cycle. Did Blakast know a crucial secret or was he just a deluded fool?
Right now, such questions were beyond Damselfly’s reach. It took all her energy to keep moving forward against the wind and snow. The village had been swallowed by a white blanket that threatened to engulf Damselfly if she did not keep moving. She continually checked the map although it was almost impossible to make out any landmarks. Damselfly trudged on, bracing herself against the cruel wind and remembering her deal with Death.
After what felt like an eternity, Damselfly glimpsed a wood on the horizon. The trees were so dense that little light was able to enter, and the princess shivered with fear. Then she heard a scurrying noise behind her, which made every hair on her body stand on end. Looking back, Damselfly could not see anyone or anything and attributed the sound to her own nerves. Steeling herself, she began the arduous trek to the looming woods until, after only a few steps, she heard the noise again.
“Is anyone there?” Damselfly called.
The frozen tundra remained desolate with endless drifts of snow and no sign of life. Damselfly could not shake the feeling that something was watching her. She recalled the villagers’ fear of the Peritwinkle and her own terrifying experience with the Sprites riding Baywolves. With her imagination running wild, Damselfly started running to the relative safety of the wood. Her feet sunk deep into the snow, which seemed to want to hold her down, and the cold night air was burning her lungs. Losing her footing in a particularly deep patch of snow, Damselfly rested for a moment on her hands and knees while all the time feeling as if something dreadful was a
bout to happen. The wind rushing through her red hair carried the sound of an approaching creature, and Damselfly picked herself up and ran for the woods, which appeared to be getting further away. By the time she reached the copse, Damselfly was breathing heavily and her legs would not take another step. The princess propped herself up on a tree trunk, trying to regain her strength, when a small furry animal ambushed her.
“Damselfly, it’s me.”
The princess screamed instinctively, her mind twisted by the whispering wind and desolate isolation before she recognised the creature as her companion, Buttontail.
“Oh, Buttontail, you came after all, you are brave,” Damselfly said, relieved.
Buttons puffed up his chest impressively, looking mightily pleased with himself.
“Don’t suppose you brought any food, did you?” the roguish rabbit asked.
“You, greedy glutton,” Damselfly laughed, hugging Buttons.
At least neither of them was alone any more. Damselfly entered the wood holding her broken sword in front of them while Buttontail brought up the rear.
“I don’t like this place,” Buttons warned.
“We have to deal with the Peritwinkle so Morris will give us a token for the Garden Gate,” Damselfly insisted.
“So we can go home,” Buttons suggested.
“No, we have to reach the Magicgarden and find the Matriarch like Uriel told us,” Damselfly cautioned.
“What about Orion? He won’t stop chasing us,” Buttons declared.
“We’ll just have to stay ahead of him.”
A high-pitched shriek ceased all conversation as the woods fell deathly silent. Not a single bird or mammal stirred in the frozen wood as the Peritwinkle was on the prowl.
It was almost impossible to find their way in the dark wood. Damselfly carried Buttons whose fear made it impossible for him to walk unaided.
“What’s the plan?” Buttontail whispered.
“We wait for the Peritwinkle to find us,” the princess revealed.
The strange duo continued their journey while the moon remained high and distant howls could be heard over the persistent wind. By accident they stumbled upon large impressions in the snow that could only belong to a Peritwinkle; the footprints were so large Damselfly could lay down flat within the depressed snow.
“What happens when the Peritwinkle finds us?” Buttontail asked reluctantly.
“Perhaps he won’t be so mean after all,” Damselfly reasoned.
“And if he is?” Buttons questioned.
“I have my sword,” the princess replied, looking uncertainly at her broken blade.
“We’re doomed,” Buttons pronounced.
Buttontail’s fear battled against his increasing hunger until he slipped into a troubled sleep. Damselfly walked to keep them warm although her toes and fingers were already numb. Eventually, Damselfly was forced to sit with her back against a large redwood tree blanketed in snow. Buttontail awoke feeling hungry and so the motivated rabbit began searching the ground for grass or berries hidden by the covering of snow. Using his proficient nose, Buttontail investigated, hoping to ease his hollow stomach. Finding a promising patch of long grass poking out of the drifts, Buttontail utilized his forepaws to dig through the lying snow. Damselfly was feeling light-headed. She had a feeling that there was something important she had to do though it seemed just out of reach. Looking up, she caught sight of Buttons running towards her. Behind him, an avalanche of snow was revealing a terrifying creature.
“You did it, Buttons,” Damselfly cried. “You found the Peritwinkle.”
The Peritwinkle stood ten-foot-tall, covered with long, coarse bristles insulated by grey fur that still had patches of snow sticking to it. Damselfly stared up at the enormous creature that had a large head with small deep-set eyes and long ears that rested flat against the side of the animal’s head. Two sharp tusks made of bone framed the boar’s face and a breath of warm fetid air pushed Damselfly back against the tree trunk. As the Peritwinkle lowered his head to get a better view of his visitors, Damselfly noticed a hump between the creature’s shoulder blades that sloped down to his powerful hindquarters and rather thin legs.
“Hello,” Damselfly greeted.
The Peritwinkle did not initially seem to notice the small girl and stuffed rabbit that had trespassed into his territory.
“Hello,” the princess repeated.
This time the giant boar did hear. He thrust his large head towards the sound and breathed a gust of warm air in their direction.
“Who are you?” the Peritwinkle demanded.
“My name is Damselfly and this is Buttontail.”
“Very strange names,” the giant boar muttered agitatedly.
“We need your help,” Damselfly called out.
“My help?” the Peritwinkle shook his head.
“The villagers need to hunt in this wood, and there is plenty of room for everyone,” Damselfly began.
“No,” the Peritwinkle roared. “I do not like men.”
“Why not?” the princess enquired.
“They cut down trees, dirty the waters and build destructive fires,” the Peritwinkle explained.
“Perhaps we could help you in exchange for letting men in the wood again,” Damselfly suggested.
“You can’t help me,” the Peritwinkle dismissed.
“So there is something that you need,” Damselfly discerned.
The Peritwinkle angrily brushed against some nearby trees, sending pieces of bark flying in his agitation.
“You seem very angry,” Damselfly observed.
“Wouldn’t you be angry if you woke up early to find no food, no company and snow everywhere. I just want to be left alone, but people and wolves keep coming into my wood and I won’t have it.”
Damselfly considered the creature’s words carefully before realising something important.
“I think you’re lonely,” she ventured.
“I don’t get lonely,” the Peritwinkle disagreed. “What do you expect anyway? There are not many of us around these days.”
“Have you ever met another Peritwinkle like you?” Damselfly asked.
“Well, of course I have,” the animal answered, although he seemed a little uncertain.
“I think ’Periwinkles are very rare,” Damselfly continued.
“We certainly are,” the creature agreed self-importantly.
“Perhaps you are the only one,” the princess advised.
“Maybe I am, after all.” The Peritwinkle shuddered.
The giant boar lowered itself heavily to the ground where it gave a low growl before settling in a miserable heap.
“Oh dear, I did not mean to upset you,” Damselfly worried.
The Peritwinkle huffed, sending a flurry of snow spiraling upwards. He seemed to have no intention of moving or talking any further.
“I know how to cheer you up,” Damselfly announced. “Whenever I feel low Old Nana reads me a story and I feel much better.”
“I don’t like stories,” the Peritwinkle said gloomily.
“Sure, you do, everyone likes stories,” the princess persisted.
“Not me,” the Peritwinkle stated stubbornly.
“But this story is all about you,” Damselfly insisted.
“Well, I guess you could tell me it, though I probably shan’t enjoy it,” the Peritwinkle begrudgingly agreed.
Damselfly cleared her throat nervously under the Peritwinkle’s discerning gaze and began to sing.
A Peritwinkle can strike faster than a spitting cobra.
His ire can be raised quicker than a Silverback gorilla.
He is more cunning than a fox wiser than the owl.
If you’re still breathing it won’t be long now.
Damselfly finished singing the poem. A long silence followed, which even the tempestuous Peritwinkle restrained from breaking.
“What did you think of it?” Damselfly asked.
“You have a very pleasant voice,” the Per
itwinkle replied stiffly, unfamiliar with giving others compliments.
“Thank you.” the princess curtsied.
“Well, I liked the part about me being cunning.” The Peritwinkle desperately tried to change the subject. “I am also surprisingly quick for my size,” the Peritwinkle boasted.
“I’m glad you liked it,” Damselfly added.
“However, you did make it sound like I was always angry and ferocious,” the Peritwinkle commented. “In fact, I do not like this poem about me at all. Who is telling such awful lies about me?”
“It is only a silly poem,” Damselfly excused.
“I demand to know who made this insulting rhyme about me,” the Peritwinkle roared.
“I heard it in the village,” Damselfly revealed.
“Well, I shall go to the village and teach these people a lesson,” the Peritwinkle stated proudly.
“Oh no, please don’t do that,” Damselfly intervened. “Why not?” the Peritwinkle asked.
“Perhaps if you saw it from their perspective, you are really large and people cannot help being frightened of what they don’t know or understand,” Damselfly explained.
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