by Lori Woods
“It is said that Night Shadow begged the demon to tell him how to reverse the withering curse spell. The demon would only agree if Night Shadow would freely give him his soul. You must realize that the withering curse is very painful. Night Shadow refused but after a couple of painful nights, later called up the demon and offered his soul for the knowledge of how to reverse the spell, and relief from the pain.
“The demon told him he would have to leave his body before it died and enter the body of another. That he must keep his original body safe until the grandchild turned twenty-five. And then he must lure her back from the other side, fill the cup of life that contained Susana’s spirit with your blood, and then return to his original body and drink from the cup to restore his health.”
I shake my head, my mind struggling to take this all in. “Red, you are joking, right? This can’t be real!”
Red Sumac raises her hands. “I am just telling you what I have heard from the Whispering Bells. And I have never known them to lie.”
“Whispering Bells, really?” I say.
“Suzy, you are not on the other side. What is impossible there is common here. If you are to survive you must learn that—and quickly. Now my next class starts in a few minutes. I have told you all I know. Believe it or not, as you will.”
“Right, thanks. I didn’t mean to doubt you,” I say as I turn to leave. All she said can’t be true! It...it’s too crazy. Wishing Wells that answer questions, withering curse, cup of life, switching bodies, Whispering Bells...God, at least I hope it isn’t true.
I clinch the book she gave me as I walk away in a daze.
At least I know this is real.
15
I still can’t believe everything that has happened in Hemlock and now I’m looking forward to talking it over with Alfie. After I left Red Sumac yesterday, my head was spinning, so I told Alfie I needed a minute to process it all. Thankfully, he was understanding after I promised him that I’d tell him everything after a good night’s sleep back in the cottage.
Now I run up the steps to the library, clutching Broom Hilda, Snowball running along beside me.
“Alfie?” I call as I open the door and step inside. “Alfie?”
He isn’t behind the service desk. Maybe he’s back in the stacks somewhere, I tell myself, as I just can’t see him. “Alfie, are you back there?” I lean Broom Hilda against the desk. “Wonder where he is.” I say to Snowball.
“I don’t hear him or smell him,” Snowball says.
“Come on, let’s go look.”
I walk back to the stacks but don’t see him anywhere. I look everywhere, even in the farthest corners. Nothing! No sign of Alfie at all. “This is very strange,” I tell Snowball. “He’s always here by the time we arrive. I hope he’s okay.”
I think maybe he’s in the little room near the desk. Oh, God, I think, is he into the Irish whiskey already this morning? I hurry over and turn the knob. The door is locked. He mustn’t be in there then…unless he’s already passed out. Better check it out. The key is under some papers in the bottom drawer. As I reach to open the drawer, I see an envelope leaning against a pot of poison oak, one of the gifts from my secret admirer.
On the front, printed in fancy letters is my name. As I glance closer at the envelope, I see a smidgen of white powder just underneath the lettering. I tear open the envelope and pull out a piece of stationary. As soon as I unfold it, golden letters flash onto the page, startling me. They read:
“Miss Maycomber, I’m holding Alford in Werewoods. For the moment he’s alive. But he will not remain so for long if you don’t provide me with a cup of your blood.”
Suddenly the letters seem to burst into flame and fall into ashes.
“Oh, my God!”
“Suzy! What’s wrong?”
I turn quickly to see Joe, the gas station owner, standing in front of me, a look of concern on his face. Since my encounter at the cottage with his son, he had been stopping by to chat with me.
I start to hand him the paper but then remember that the letters burned themselves away. “It’s Night Shadow,” I say. “He’s holding Alfie in Werewoods. He’s going to kill him if I don’t give him a cup of my blood.”
“That son-of-a—No, I won’t say it.”
“What am I going to do?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Joe says, werewolf-macho as usual.
“How?”
“I’ll get my wolf pack together. If he is in Werewoods, we’ll find him.”
“But Werewoods is big, Joe. How will you know where to look?”
“Smell, of course,” Snowball pipes up smugly.
“Shoosh, Snowball. Let Joe tell me.”
Joe looks at Snowball and smiles. “She’s right. When we’re in our werewolf state, just like dogs—”
Snowball reaches out and touches my leg to get my attention. “See! You won’t believe me but you believe him. Can you explain that?”
“Sorry, Snowball,”
“Cats can smell, too,” Snowball says, turning her attention to licking her favorite paw.
Joe laughs. “Yes, like cats or dogs, we have a keen sense of smell.”
“But don’t you become werewolves only at night?”
“No, if it’s something important—”
Just like Val, I think, remembering the day on the lake.
Joe asks if Alfie has left any of his clothes at the library—a jacket or a hat. He sees my puzzled look. “For the others to smell, so they’ll know whose scent they need to find.”
“Of course,” I say.
Joe calls all the members of the pack—except for the pups like his son for whom it would be too dangerous. By the time we get to the woods, everyone is waiting. I’m impressed at how many werewolves there are—about thirty of them. They all arrive as men and change in front of my eyes…like the old morphing programs for computers, except for real.
I’m surprised when each of them comes up to me, licks my hand, and wags his tail. I think that’s very nice. But Snowball throws the worst hissy fit you can imagine. Hiss, hiss, hiss, spit, spit, spit. Growl!
“Stop it, Snowball. Stop it right now,” I say.
Snowball is highly incensed. “If you were a cat, you’d react the very same way. It’s in my nature.”
“Well, you’ve calmed down now. That’s the important thing.”
One of the wolves races up to me. I’m sure it’s Joe, the leader of the pack. He tries to talk, but at first it comes out only as howls. He’s excited, dancing all around. “Ooouuu,” he says.
“What is it, Joe?”
“Oooo uuuear that?”
“What, Joe? Did I hear what?”
“Aaaooou.” Suddenly, his voice is back. “Wow,” he says. “That takes some concentration.” He shakes his head, just like a dog throwing off excess water. “It soundooouu like Alfieaoouu’s voice.”
“Alfie’s voice?” I ask. I listen for a minute. “Maybe,” I say. “I’m not sure.”
“You witches,” Snowball says. “You just can’t hear anything.”
“It’s Alfie’s voice, all right,” Joe says.
“But it seems to be coming from all directions,” another wolf says.
“How is that possible?” I ask.
“Night Shadow playing games, I suspect.”
“But at least Alfie’s okay,” I say. “If we can hear—” Oh, no, could this could be a recording? Maybe Alfie’s already de—I can’t finish the thought. “Is it real?” I ask. “The voice?”
“It’s real,” Joe answers. “I’m sure it’s a spell to confuse us. Like I said, Night Shadow is playing with us.”
“What can we do?” I ask.
“Remember the jacket you gave me at the library?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Well, I brought it along so everyone can smell it.”
“Okay. You think they’ll be able to track him?” I ask.
“I think so…particularly if we split up.”
“
But if someone finds him, how will the others know?”
“Easy,” Joe says. “Whoever finds Alfie or traces him will let the rest of us know. There’s a special howl we use. All of us recognize it.” He looks up at me. “The rest of us will follow the sound of the howl.”
“Amazing,” I say.
He tells all the others which direction to take to find Alfie. Then he turns back to me. “You and Snowball will come with me. We can’t risk anything happening to you. So I want to keep both of you close.”
“I’m not scared,” Snowball says. “I can take care of myself.”
“Well, I’m scared,” I say. “Who knows what Night Shadow has up his sleeve?”
All the wolves scatter off in different directions. “Come on,” Joe says. “We have as good a chance as anyone of finding Alfie.”
“I hope so.”
“Have you been in Werewoods before?” Joe asks.
“Unfortunately. And I was trapped by vines that kept tightening around me.”
“Well, I’ll try to see that nothing happens either to you or Snowball.”
Joe leads the way into a part of the woods I’ve not seen before. It’s beautiful. Brilliant colored flowers spread across the open ground, under blue-leaved trees that look something like maples, except the leaves are elongated. Among the flowers are fungi that resemble Indian pipes but are all colors of the rainbow.
“Careful of the fungi,” Joe says. “If you touch one, it will send a spray of deadly spores into your face.” He glances at Snowball. “You too. Since, like me, you’re much closer to the ground. The spray will hit you before you can try to escape.”
From then on I’m afraid to touch anything. I walk carefully, stepping only on layers of dry leaves. Even those spit streams of foul-smelling liquid at me.
“Not harmful,” Joe says. “It’s only the scent that’s bad.”
It seems like we’ve walked for hours and found nothing. The only things that change are the trees—now with reddish leaves, and the plants, with even brighter flowers than previously. I admit I’m getting tired.
“I’m worried, Joe,” I say. “It’s been a long time since we started, and who knows what Night Shadow has done to Alfie. Or what he will do if we don’t find him.”
“I’m sure he won’t do anything,” Joe answers.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“Well…” Joe didn’t go on.
“What?” I asked.
“Okay. He wants your blood too much to risk doing anything to Alfie before you show up.”
“Oh, man. He really wants me dead, doesn’t he?”
“I suspect he does…though maybe not dead dead.”
“You mean I’d be like…a ghost or a spirit.”
“I’m sorry.”
Now I’m frightened. But I can’t give up. We have to find Alfie and rescue him. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything possible to help.
“Uu-uu-ow-uu-uu.”
I stop in my tracks, petrified. “What was that?” I envision some hideous monster ready to jump out at us.
“It’s Frank,” Joe says. “He must have located Alfie.”
“That’s great.”
“We have to hurry toward the sound,” he says. “We’ll have to meet a ways off from where Night Shadow is holding Alfie.”
“A ways off?” I ask. I wonder why.
“If we went in individually, it would be too easy to capture us, or more likely, kill us one by one.”
“Of course.”
Joe veers off to the left. “This way,” he says.
“How can you tell?”
“He hears things better than you,” Snowball said. “Just like I do.” She sounds perplexed.
It’s hard to keep up, especially when I’m trying not to touch the fungi. Unfortunately, I do bump into one. But I’m hurrying so fast the spray—which smells like a mixture of peaches and fried onions—sails harmlessly behind me. “Whew, close one,” I manage to mumble.
“Just be careful,” Joe pants. He’s nearly out of breath, too.
“Are we there yet?” Snowball asks. “I’m thirsty. I want some unicorn milk.”
“There’s Frank. And some of the others,” Joe says.
I squint and look where he’s pointing. Finally, I see the wolves, banded together in a small clearing.
“We need to be quiet,” Joe says. “If I know Night Shadow, he’ll have something, or several somethings, guarding the place where he’s holding Alfie.”
We sneak quietly toward the group. As we do, I notice several other wolves arriving from various directions. It looks like nearly everyone is here now.
“You found out where he is?” Joe whispers to Frank.
Frank points his muzzle straight ahead. Staying as low to the ground as possible, the wolves sneak forward, Joe in the lead. I wish I could be close to the ground, too. But that wouldn’t work. I’d feel like a baby learning to crawl and would surely slow everyone down.
“Okay,” Joe says. “Let me try to get a little closer and see if I can find out anything. The rest of you wait. I’ll be right back.” He looks at me. “You too, Suzy and Snowball. You’ll be safe here.”
I feel so tense it’s hard to breathe, and I notice Snowball is trembling. I kneel and run my hand over her head and back.
She looks into my eyes and purrs.
In a moment, Joe is back. “Not good news,” he says. “It’s the feral wolves. And I’m pretty sure they’re being controlled by Night Shadow. So we’re in for a fight.” He glances from one of the werewolves to another. “I understand if anyone wants to back out. Most of you have families. And if anything were to happen… You know what I mean. If any of you want to leave, go now.”
None of the werewolves so much as move a muscle.
“I’m proud of you,” Joe says. He glances at me. “It’s probably better if you wait here ‘till after we rescue Alfie.”
“Not on your life. This is my battle every bit as much as it is yours. Maybe more so.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Nevertheless!” I’m determined. I will not let Night Shadow win.
Slowly, we walk forward till we are face to face with the other wolves—not sleek like the werewolves. Their coats are missing patches of fur, their ribs showing. Suddenly, all of them tense, as if ready to pounce.
“We don’t want trouble,” Joe tells them. He glances quickly at me. “They understand English,” he whispered, “though they’ll try to pretend they don’t.”
I start to question him but already he is turning back toward the other pack.
The feral wolves shift enough so that I can see a big metal cage. Alfie is inside, holding onto the bars. In front of the cage is a mammoth rock, making it impossible for him to escape and hard for anyone to rescue him.
Suddenly, Broom Hilda leaps from my hand and rushes toward the rock. She travels like lightning. The wolves snap at her but don’t come close. She feints and dodges and darts back and forth till finally she’s beside the rock. She pushes against it with such force I worry she’ll break her handle in two. She dodges to the other side as the wolves continue to snap at her. Unable to move the rock, she leaps straight up into the air and sails back to me.
“Night Shadow must have cast a non-move spell,” Joe says. “They’re very difficult to break. It takes more force than a broom has. Even a Salem broom. So what are we going to do?”
“There’s this spell,” I tell him.
“What spell?”
“The one I used before to send the wolves away when they attacked the cottage.”
“And it worked?”
“Well, there weren’t nearly as many of them. Hmmm.” I stop to reconsider. “What if I just make the rock disappear?”
“You’re kidding. You can do that?”
“At least I can try. Then I’ll send Broom Hilda to Alfie and she can bring him back to us.”
“It’s worth a shot. Do it.”
I stand, stare at the stone, and point my finger at it. “Eamus Hinc!”
Suddenly, a flash of light blinds me. In a moment, my vision returns and I see the stone is gone. So is the cage with Alfie in it.
“Oh my God! Oh my God.”
“Don’t panic, Suzy. Whatever you do, don’t panic! It’s a well-known fact that someone in a panic cannot cast spells.”
“But what am I going to do?” I wail.
The feral wolves look from one spot to another, as if they are totally confused.
“But where did he go?” I wail. “What did I do?”
“I don’t know. But you have to settle down.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath. And then another. “Okay,” I say, “What do you suggest I do?”
“Say the spell backwards. Maybe that will bring Alfie back.”
Whew! I close my eyes for a moment and then open them. I try my best to concentrate. “All right.” I stare at the spot where Alfie had been. “Hinc Eramus!”
Nothing changes. No rock, no cage, no Alfie. I turn to Joe. “It didn’t work,” I say, stating the obvious.
“Let me think,” Joe says. “Not that I know that much about witchcraft.” He pauses for a second. “Say the whole thing backwards.”
“What do you mean?”
“Reverse the words, and reverse the letters, too.”
“I see. Do you have a pen?”
“What!” Joe says.
“Of course you don’t. All you have is fur. Oh, I know what I’ll do.” I pick up a stick and write out the two words in reverse just as I said them before: “Hinc Eramus” “Okay,” I say and start to scratch once more in the dirt, slowly spelling out the backwards spell. “That’s it,” I tell Joe. But how on earth do I pronounce that first word—cnih maybe, or seeneh.
“What’s wrong?” Joe asks. “Why are you waiting?”
I’m embarrassed to tell him; he’ll think I’m loony. But I blurt it out. “I don’t know how to pronounce the first word.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Just do it.”
I take a deep breath. “Cnih Sumare!” I shout.