How to Stop a Witch

by Bill Allen

  As if his wings had been torn from his body, Tehrer suddenly dropped from the sky. He pulled up just feet from the ground and whipped through the crowd, Ruuan hot on his tail.

  Greg held his breath as the surrounding spirelings began their swings before he’d even passed, sweeping their axes through arcs that just narrowly missed his head. Pendegrass Castle soared straight at him. Tehrer had to slow and swerve to avoid crashing through the castle gate.

  Greg had just enough time to make out the screaming faces of Princess Priscilla and Kristin below. Beside them stood Melvin and Lucky, and any hope Greg had of surviving the next few minutes were dashed as he recalled how Lucky was supposed to be up here by his side, spreading the good fortune that Nathan insisted the boy didn’t have.

  It was not until after his friends faded from view that Greg thought about what they’d said. They hadn’t shouted the expected “Watch out!” or the totally unnecessary “Be careful!” or even an encouraging “We’re all pulling for you.” Instead, they were all yelling something about Nathan and using the amulet.

  While in the vicinity, Ruuan took the opportunity to shoot a jet of fire at Pendegrass Castle. Nathan’s protective spell did its job. The flames bounced off the stone and shot across the lawn, scattering Melvin and Lucky and what looked like Brandon Alexander in three different directions, and then Ruuan was off again, chasing Tehrer toward the woods to the west.

  Tehrer turned at the edge of the grounds and unleashed a jet of fire at Ruuan, who dodged out of reflex, even though the flames probably couldn’t hurt him. The motion sent Hazel reeling. She dropped a fireball by her own feet and then screamed and hopped about frantically until Ruuan banked, and the fireball rolled clear. Then Ruuan was charging at Greg again, and Tehrer was once more winding between the pillars of spirelings.

  Greg watched Ruuan’s gaping cavern of a mouth swoop up from behind and slam shut around Tehrer’s tail with a boom. Tehrer shrieked like nothing on Earth—not all that surprising, since everything he did was like nothing on Earth—but somehow pulled free.

  Why is he always fleeing? Greg’s mind screamed out. Why doesn’t Tehrer turn and fight?

  But Greg already knew the answer. Even before his injury, Tehrer was the weaker of the two dragons. Maybe that was still stronger than anything else Greg could imagine, but Nathan was right. Age had caught up with Tehrer.

  But where Nathan had also thought Tehrer would stand a chance if he fought of his own free will rather than struggle against the power of the amulet, he’d underestimated Hazel’s ability to control Ruuan. Greg might delay the inevitable, but in the end the prophecy would win out. If only Nathan had fought this battle like they’d planned.

  As if in answer to his thoughts, Greg heard Nathan’s voice again.

  Here, Greg.

  By the time Greg turned toward the sound it was gone. He could see nothing but thousands of spirelings shouting and waving their axes.

  The amulet!

  Finally Greg realized what he must do. Ever since they returned to the castle, he’d left Tehrer to his own free will, but he still held the Amulet of Ruuan. He was in control, even if what he wanted more than anything was to hand over that control to someone else.

  “Tehrer,” he shouted into the wind, stretching the amulet out before him. “Can you see Nathan?”

  “LITTLE BUSY RIGHT NOW.”

  “This is important.”

  Tehrer jerked hard to one side, separating from Ruuan for an instant of flight without the constant threat of Ruuan’s jaws clamping on his tail.

  “THE SORCERER IS BEHIND US TO THE EAST, ATOP ONE OF THE TOWERS OF CANARAZAS.”

  “Can you get to him?” Greg shouted. His arm drooped under the weight of the amulet, and he fought hard to lift it up again. “I mean, go find him!”

  Tehrer jerked suddenly downward, and whether he was dodging Ruuan or avoiding spirelings or actually following Greg’s order, Greg couldn’t tell. The dragon wound through the spirelings and headed east again as Ruuan slipped in behind him and gained, his jaws opening wide.

  From over Greg’s head, a brilliant blue flame soared through the air and struck Ruuan in the ridge above one eye. Ruuan cringed and veered so abruptly Hazel would have surely been thrown to the center of the Enchanted Forest if not for her own magic.

  Ruuan was dissuaded for only a second. Already he was banking back around when Tehrer glided to a sudden stop.

  “GOOD SHOT. HERE HE IS,” the dragon announced, “YOUR HUMAN FRIEND.”

  Greg searched the closest tower of spirelings, and there, amidst all the tangled Canaraza warriors, was Nathan, waving his arms and screaming right along with the rest of them.

  “Closer, Greg. Bring him closer.”

  Comprehension finally struck. Greg again thrust out the amulet. “Move closer!”

  Tehrer did as he was ordered. In fact, the dragon moved so close, its tail swept over the top of the tower, forcing the uppermost spirelings to dive off or be sliced in two. Nathan took the opportunity to leap aboard. He was still scrambling between the spikes running along Tehrer’s spine when Tehrer took off again, narrowly avoiding a charge by Ruuan.

  “The amulet, Greg,” Nathan cried. “Give me the amulet.” He reached out as he climbed, and a ball of green fire soared by so close, it nearly severed his fingers.

  Greg slipped the chain over his head and reached out toward Nathan. With a jerk, Tehrer dodged aside, and Greg felt the amulet slip.

  No!

  But Nathan had looped the chain with one finger. He tugged it from Greg’s grasp. No sooner was the amulet in his grip before the magician shouted to Tehrer.

  “To the ground. Now!”

  Tehrer dropped as if his wings had been clipped. Once again Greg felt his stomach rise as he watched the ground soar up to meet him.

  “Up!” Nathan shouted, far too late in Greg’s opinion for Tehrer to pull out of his dive.

  “What are you do—?” Greg shouted, but that was all he could get out before Nathan unexpectedly grabbed him by his tunic and tossed him overboard.

  Greg’s Unfortunate Demise

  Tehrer missed the ground by inches. He was already soaring up and out of sight before Greg rolled to a stop next to a fallen spireling.

  “Ow.”

  He might have spent more time complaining had he not landed just feet from the one remaining wyvern. The beast surged forward, lashing out with its jaws, and snapped its chains tight, inches from Greg’s leg. Greg scrambled back. He counted his limbs.

  A sudden thought struck him. Hadn’t he just ridden the magnificent flying beast into battle and fought the witch? Now Nathan was taking his turn, and as long as he finished up the one little matter of saving the kingdom, the prophecy would be fulfilled—well, all except the part about Greg dying. But that was a small part, really. Hardly worth bothering with, if you stopped to think about it . . .

  Now, with Nathan in command, Tehrer became the aggressor. He turned and met Ruuan’s charge head on, and the dragons clashed like two colliding freight trains.

  Nathan shouted out orders, extending the amulet with one hand while he used the other to weave his powerful magic. Electricity shot from his fingertips, straight at Hazel, who held out the Amulet of Tehrer and met the threat with a motion of her own. With a zap, the sizzling died away. Hazel yelled something indiscernible, and Ruuan backed off of his attack to swing back toward the castle.

  “She’s on the run,” Greg called out, even though the wyvern was the only one close enough to hear.

  Hazel didn’t run long. When Ruuan passed over the spot where Mordred and the other magicians were gathered, the witch held out her amulet and ordered the dragon to unleash a jet of fire at the chanting magicians. Fortunately, just as when Ruuan tried to blast the tower of spirelings, the flames bounced harmlessly aside and scattered through the grass, lighting small fires that continued to burn long after he was gone.

  The magicians kept chanting, oblivious of the threat from above. The t
wo dragons circled back. They were headed Greg’s way.

  Ruuan spun to face his attacker, and the two dragons slammed heads together, their teeth ringing out like clashing swords across all the land. Never had Greg heard such an impact. The dragons’ magic faltered, and Nathan and Hazel were both jolted off their feet.

  And then the unthinkable happened. The chain holding the Amulet of Ruuan snapped. Nathan scrambled across Tehrer’s back and slapped a hand over it before it slid to the ground. “Gotcha!”

  But then both dragons collided into towers of spirelings on either side of Greg, and just as Greg suspected, the towers remained strong while the dragons were thrown hard to the side. The sudden lurch caused Nathan to lose his grasp on the amulet.

  For a moment all sound died away. Greg watched the tiny object slide across Tehrer’s back and fall in slow motion, glittering in the soft morning light, spinning end over end, from the top of the closest tower all the way to its base.

  In an instant the noise of the battle returned.

  Free of the controlling magic, Tehrer tried to shoot past Ruuan toward the castle, but Ruuan anticipated the move. He lunged out at Tehrer’s soft underbelly and clamped his jaws tight. Tehrer wailed like nothing Greg had ever heard before, nor ever wanted to hear again.

  Mortally wounded, the dragon tore free of Ruuan’s grip and made one last desperate attempt to flee. Ruuan lashed out a claw and sent the dying dragon spinning out of control. Greg watched in horror as Tehrer spun straight for the castle.

  Ruuan veered sharply to the west, Greg could swear he heard Hazel cackle, and then Tehrer was crashing through the castle wall, scattering boulders the size of men in all directions.

  “Nathan!”

  “Here, Greg.”

  Greg spotted a disturbance in one of the towers of spirelings closest to the castle. There was Nathan, being passed hand-to-hand down to the ground. At the last he’d been able to free himself of the dragon’s protective magic and leap off. Greg could hardly believe his eyes. Nathan was safe. Too bad when he was planning his spell he hadn’t thought to protect the castle from Tehrer as well as from Ruuan.

  “Ruuan,” Greg gasped.

  Under Hazel’s orders, the dragon banked around and headed back toward the castle, scattering people the way Tehrer had just scattered boulders.

  Those who’d thought to hide within the castle were having second thoughts, now that there was an enormous dragon-shaped hole in one of its walls. Greg wondered if Kristin and Priscilla were among them—or Lucky and Melvin. No, what was he thinking? As confident as Lucky was in his talent, he was probably standing atop one of the stacks of spirelings, calling out to Hazel to come back and fight like a man.

  Ruuan’s victory cry rang out so long and so loud, Greg could have sworn it was stuck inside his head. Then he realized the dragon’s cry had died away, and what he was hearing was the alarmingly similar sound of an upset shadowcat.

  Among all of the fallen soldiers and spireling warriors, Rake had managed to find him and was screaming for reasons only a shadowcat could understand. Rake scampered across the lawn, hopping over fallen spirelings, to where the amulet fell. He rummaged around for a moment. Then his head popped up, the Amulet of Ruuan clenched between his jaws.

  “You found it!” said Greg. “Good boy, Rake. Bring it to me.”

  Greg took a step toward the shadowcat, but Rake scampered away, dangerously close to the chained wyvern, and stared back at Greg defiantly. The wyvern shot forward, snapped its chains tight, and bounced harmlessly backward.

  “Rake, watch out. What are you doing? We need to get that to Nathan. He’s the only one who knows how to use it.”

  Rake dropped the amulet and screeched for Greg to come take it, but when Greg tried, he snatched it up again and moved even closer to the wyvern.

  “Rake, this is no time for games.”

  The wyvern lunged again, its jaws snapping shut just short of Rake’s tail. Greg backed off a step, not trusting the strength of those chains. Maybe it was just a wyvern, but it still looked a lot like a dragon to him.

  As if aware of Greg’s thoughts, Rake screeched again, and Greg suddenly understood. If the amulet could be used to control a dragon, maybe it would work on a wyvern, too.

  Perhaps it was coincidence, but Rake seemed to calm. He grabbed the amulet in his mouth, ran forward and dropped it at Greg’s feet. The wyvern watched the movement intently and fought against its chains, but Rake kept just out of reach.

  Greg debated the possibility that the beast was just toying with him, waiting for him to move closer. He pushed back his fear, swept up the amulet and held it out.

  “Stop,” he commanded, and the wyvern instantly froze in place. “Sit.”

  The wyvern sat.

  From behind, Greg heard panicked shouts. Ruuan swept toward the castle entrance, unleashing a jet of fire that bore a trough in the lawn right up to the gate.

  When Tehrer struck the castle earlier, a few stacks of spireling warriors had been toppled by flying debris. Apparently Mordred’s spell only protected them within their living towers. Now men and spirelings alike were running about in chaos, trying to dodge the searing flames.

  “Don’t move,” Greg shouted at the wyvern. He rushed to the post where the beast was tethered and unhooked the chains that bound it.

  “Bow,” he commanded, and the wyvern lowered its head so Greg could climb aboard.

  “Up,” Greg shouted before he really had time to think about what he was saying. The wyvern took to the air. It beat its wings with a flurry and soared easily between the remaining spireling stacks, weaving between them like a child at play.

  But the wyvern possessed no magic to hold Greg in place. With the same strength he’d used to grip Tehrer earlier, Greg latched onto the wyvern’s scales to avoid being flung to the ground.

  “Go,” he shouted. “To Ruuan.”

  Without hesitation, the wyvern turned and sped toward the castle. Distracted by those fleeing below, neither Hazel nor Ruuan saw the tiny threat coming. A glimmer of hope dared to enter Greg’s mind. Then, at the last second, he screamed for the wyvern to change course.

  Running just ahead of Ruuan’s flames, barely remaining true to his name, was Lucky. Greg had no choice but to force the wyvern to dart ahead and scoop the boy out of harm’s way.

  The element of surprise was gone. Hazel held out her palm and conjured another of her emerald green fireballs.

  “Watch out!” Greg screamed.

  The wyvern had no desire to disobey. Still clutching Lucky’s robe in its jaws, it dodged nimbly aside.

  Compared to a dragon, the wyvern was little more than a gnat, hardly worth concern, but its small size gave it an agility Ruuan could never match. If Greg could just get past Hazel’s defenses, separate her from her amulet as she’d done with Nathan . . .

  “Help!” Lucky screamed, still dangling from the wyvern’s jaws, and Greg briefly wondered if his friend was feeling particularly lucky at that moment.

  Again Greg ordered the wyvern to attack, and again Hazel ordered Ruuan to protect her.

  The dragon had no room to protect itself. Ruuan barely soared between the towers of angry spirelings as the wyvern flew easily behind, able to use its wings far more effectively within the narrow gaps. Hazel had to expend all her magic just to keep the wyvern’s jaws at bay. If Greg only knew a spell he could use against her, he could launch an attack of his own.

  Again Ruuan arced toward the castle, dodging blows from spireling axes the entire way. Below, Greg could see Priscilla trying to look up at him, but her mother had clasped a hand over her eyes to protect her from seeing. At her side were Melvin and Marvin Greatheart, cheering Greg on, and next to them Kristin, staring up at him wide-eyed, her mouth dropped open in horror.

  At least she’s not staring at Marvin, Greg thought to himself in one unexplainable moment. Then he realized Kristin’s mouth was open not in horror but because she was calling out to him. For an instant he could swear she
said, “Use the force.” Then he realized it was something else entirely. Something about holding his course. She must really believe what everyone had been saying about him being a hero.

  If only it were true.

  “Down,” Greg screamed, and the wyvern dropped toward the ground. Greg ordered it to fly in low under Ruuan’s belly.

  Even if Ruuan had been able to wound Tehrer in these softer tissues, Greg didn’t hold any hopes of the wyvern doing the same to Ruuan. Fate of the kingdom or not, he didn’t know if he’d have felt right about hurting Ruuan even if he could. No, he’d ordered the wyvern there because it was the one spot Hazel couldn’t see.

  Now, as Ruuan continued to soar about the yard, antagonized by the constant pounding of spireling axes upon his scales, Greg and the wyvern soared easily along below him, waiting for the witch to make a move.

  Greg knew Ruuan’s magic would protect Hazel from falling, as long as she remained between the spikes running along the dragon’s neck and shoulders, but what if she wandered off to either side? If he guessed right, Hazel wouldn’t be able to tolerate not knowing where he was. She’d creep around the dragon’s back for a better look.

  Only how would he know when she was away from safety?

  Lucky paused in his incoherent screaming long enough to yell something helpful. “Now, Greg, now. To your left.”

  But where Greg thought Lucky meant Greg should move to his left, Lucky really meant Hazel had moved to Greg’s left. Greg ordered the wyvern to dart around Ruuan’s rib cage, only to find himself face-to-face with the witch.

  He couldn’t say he liked the expression he saw there.

  Neither did the wyvern. It spotted Hazel’s amulet and looped around so quickly, Greg could barely hold on.

  This is it, Greg knew. This was the moment he would plummet to his death and fulfill the prophecy.

  But fate had something else in mind. The wyvern’s tail lashed through the air as it turned, and—if this wasn’t proof that having Lucky swaying from the wyvern’s jaws was influencing this battle, Greg couldn’t imagine what could be—swatted the amulet from Hazel’s outstretched hand.