“Mae.”
Feeling a shake of her shoulder, Mae turned to her side. “Just a minute more, Callum.”
He shook her again. “We are stopping for the night. Would you like something to eat?”
Mae sat up, her flute rolling off her lap.
Catching her little wooden instrument, the wizard chuckled. “I knew you couldn’t resist a meal.” He popped the flute into her palm and lifted her from the wagon.
Mae dropped her flute in her pocket, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and scanned the campsite. A simple cooking fire had been built up under the shelter of a large ring of trees. The ponies were corralled within a group of trees and were grazing at the brush. Cook Barley turned from the fire with a ladle in his hand. “There she is! Our own little wizard. Did you have a good rest?”
Mae nodded sheepishly. “Yes, sir.” The last thing she remembered was playing the flute to cheer the traders up. The rocking wagon must have lulled her to sleep. Her stomach rumbled and her nose twitched as the smell of roasting chicken wafted under it. “Whatever you’re cooking sure smells good.”
Cook Barley laughed. “Probably not as good as what Callum could magick up, but I did my best!”
Mae slipped her flute in her pocket and shivered as Callum drew her closer to the fire. She perched on a fallen log that was covered with moss but relatively dry. Most of the traders were murmuring among themselves, but one smiled up at Mae.
“Thank you for the song, Maewyn.” Tory tipped his hat and winked. He was young, only a couple of years older than Mae’s fourteen winters, and he had curly red hair and a cute dimple in his chin. Her cheeks grew hot. She nodded in his direction but was saved from talking to him by an offered bowl of yellow squash and a roasted chicken leg. She whispered her thanks to Callum as he sat next to her.
“How much further is it to the first village of men, Callum?” Maewyn asked. She shoveled a bite of squash in her mouth.
Callum swallowed his mouthful and knit his brows. “It’s been a while since I’ve been north of the Wedge, but I’d say another day and a half. We should get to Larissa about noonish.” He elbowed her playfully. “Just in time for something to eat!”
Mae giggled. Big clouds of white breath-steam floated around her head. It was going to be a cold night. “What will we be trading at the village?”
“Mostly supplies. Mr. Whiteknoll is looking for a nice supple leather to make hats and mittens. Cook Barley wants new recipes. Poppy Vale is looking for some new breeding-stock ponies, and Tory Longbridge, the young man who thanked you for the song—which was lovely by the way—is gathering lore of a legendary animal that used to live in the Wedge…a phooka.”
“A phooka? What’s that?”
Callum chuckled. “Only the best house cleaner a household could ever have.”
Mae’s eyes grew wide. “Better than a hapenny?”
“Better than a hapenny.” Callum’s eyes glittered. “Well, perhaps not better than a hapenny, but better than my spells!”
Mae shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
“That’s why it is called a legendary creature. Few believe it is real.”
Mae chewed on her chicken leg, thinking about the Great Expedition. “Why do they call it a Great Expedition if we’re just trading everyday things? Isn’t there something bigger we should be searching for?”
Callum chewed his lip and then took a quick breath. “A long time ago, the Great Expedition was exactly what you think it should be—a grand adventure. It was a time when the younger hapennies would have a chance to explore the world outside of the Wedge, visit other hapenny villages, and meet the colonies of dwarves and elves and humans.”
“We used to visit humans on purpose?” Mae was shocked. Humans rarely visited the Wedge, and the ones who did were usually entertainers of some sort.
Callum chuckled. “Yes. Hapennies and humans were once closely aligned, before the Trillium War.”
Mae shook her head. “I haven’t heard of that war before. Was it between the hapennies and the humans?”
“No. Hapennies and humans were on the same side. It was a war between the humans and the trolls.”
“And did the humans win?” She forked a few pieces of squash into her mouth.
“No one ever wins in a war,” Callum said in a low tone. “You know that. The trolls fled, if that’s what you mean, but they stole away with the king’s daughter.”
“Didn’t the king’s men go looking for her?”
Callum nodded slowly. His eyes glazed over for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Some still are.”
“That’s so sad.” Mae set down her empty bowl. She decided to change the subject to something a little more cheery. “So, what are you looking for on this expedition, Callum? Um, besides corley thistle to make more Bricklebear Fever remedy.”
“That’s a good question.” The wizard braced his arm against his knee and leaned forward, eyes shining in the firelight. There was a spark in them that Mae had never seen before. She waited patiently for Callum to answer and decided after a bit that he wasn’t going to.
“I’m looking for a good story to tell.” Mae pulled her wand from her pocket and flicked it at the fire. Flames shot up into the sky and formed unicorns that sparred with their horns and pranced on their hind feet. “That’s what I’ll bring back to the Wedge—a good story and something for Aletta. What do you think she’d like?”
“A nice emerald from the Near Mountain Miners might be nice.” Callum took a big bite of his chicken leg.
Mae swallowed. “The Near Mountains? But those are so far away!”
Callum nodded and wiped the grease away from his mouth with his sleeve. “Yes, our last planned stop was in Crestfallen, the town at the bottom of the mountains. But we were so close that I thought I’d take you—”
Mae put her hand up, shushing Callum mid-sentence. Her ears pricked up and swiveled until she caught the sound again. The other hapennies perked their ears and turned their heads toward the forest. “I think we have visitors,” Mae said.
Noses twitched in anticipation. Something was indeed crashing through the woods, and coming fast. Mae gripped her wand tighter while Callum eased himself off the log, knees creaking. The crashing got louder, and then Mae heard a scream.
“Help!”
Mae started for a moment at the human voice and then moved toward the sound.
Callum caught her collar. “Oh no you don’t. It could be a bockman trying to lure us into the woods. Or all manner of other creatures planning to do us harm.” He turned to the wide-eyed traders. “Gather a weapon, whatever you have at hand, and form a circle. Backs to the fire.” He pulled Mae next to him.
“Callum,” Mae’s voice shook. “I don’t know what to do with a bockman.”
“Don’t follow him, no matter the tune he plays.”
Mae shook her head. Her heart raced. She saw the trees bending before a large shadow flew out. The ponies reared and whinnied. Mae raised her wand, a spell lingering at the tip of her tongue.
“Please,” the shadow cried out. “Please help me!”
“Villielder!” Callum whispered.
The fire roared, and a beautiful human face was lit up in the night.
Chapter 2
Mae dropped her wand in her pocket and stepped forward, but Callum held her fast by the shoulder. “No, Mae.”
“But Callum!” Mae pointed to the lady standing at the edge of their campsite. “It’s a woman in trouble, not a bockman.” The others were looking to Callum for direction.
The wizard shifted next to her. His face was cloudy with indecision. “It could be a trick.”
“Please,” the woman pleaded and took a few steps forward, her hand outstretched. “I need your help!”
Mae studied the woman. She was tall and thin, and her hair was a mess of tangles. The bodice of her dress was stained. One sleeve was torn from its seam, and the skirt was tattered and worn around the hem.
The woman’s b
ottom lip trembled as the trees behind her shook. “I lost my way in the forest trying to escape from the trolls who held me captive.”
The hapennies exchanged glances. Trolls?
Cook Barley beat his rolling pin in his hand. “Trolls keeping humans captive now, eh? Your name, mistress?”
“Huldfrejya,” the woman answered and curtsied on shaking legs.
Callum’s brows knit together. His wand wobbled in his hand.
Mae put her hand on Callum’s arm. “Please, Callum, she needs our help. We know what it’s like to be hounded by trolls.”
The lady held up her hands, fingers spread, palms out. “No tricks. I promise. I’m just a poor soul who’s had a run of bad luck.” Her eyes were dull in the firelight.
The hapennies’ weapons wavered and then fell to their sides.
The lady gathered her skirts, clearly taking the lowering of weapons as assent to join the group, and quickly shuffled toward the safety of the fire. Poppy wrapped a blanket around Huldfrejya’s shoulders as the woman took a seat on a log. Cook Barley handed her a steaming mug of tea.
“What do we do now, Callum?” Mae asked. The traders had gathered around, awaiting orders.
“We must keep a guard on duty, just in case the trolls still follow her. Two hapennies in each direction and a wizard to the north.” Callum’s brows knit together as the hapennies spread out.
“I will take the first shift since I napped this afternoon,” Mae said.
Callum nodded, the frown lines increasing on his forehead.
“What’s the matter, Callum? Are you worried because the trolls should be settled for winter by now?” The ponies were still all bothered too, eyes rolling and teeth chomping.
“I feel as if there is something I need to tell you. I can’t quite put my wand on it.” Callum swept his hat off and scratched his head. “Have you read A Tapestry of Trolls yet?”
Mae shook her head. “It is still on my bookshelf. There are just so many books about magick that I hardly know where to begin!” Mae paused as Callum’s eyes glazed over.
He was no longer paying attention to her. He pushed past Mae toward Huldfrejya, who was singing with the most beautiful voice Mae had ever heard. Mae’s thoughts became blurry and she felt an overwhelming urge to follow Callum. She shook her head, but then she felt the pull become even stronger. Trina’s nails dug into her coat as she popped out of Mae’s jacket pocket and stuck her furry paws in Mae’s ears. The fuzziness faded. What was happening? She scuttled behind the wagon as Callum joined the gathering of travelers already surrounding Huldfrejya.
Mae’s mind spun. Callum had suspected something, and she had second-guessed him. She groaned inwardly. Was she ever going to learn? Mae peered under the wagon bed. Thank goodness for Trina, the little stowaway!
Huldfrejya stood and turned, still singing. Mae watched as she pulled a small glass vial from her pocket and uncorked it. A thick blue liquid bubbled out and into the mug she was holding. She put the vial back in her pocket and stroked Callum’s cheek. He opened his mouth, gulping down the steaming liquid from the mug she held.
“No!” Mae said, knowing her whispered plea wouldn’t be heard. “Don’t drink it!”
Her hand slipped over her mouth, almost of its own accord. Mae drew deeper into the shadows as Callum smiled gently into Huldfrejya’s eyes and then slumped to the ground.
Trina pulled her paws away from Mae’s ears, made a clicking sound, and shook her head, warning Mae to stay quiet.
Huldfrejya was giving a sip of the mug’s contents to everyone, and they were gladly taking it. Soon all the hapenny traders lay in sleepy piles around the fire. What was Mae going to do? The fire crackled and the wind bustled through the treetops, but thankfully, Huldfrejya no longer sang. Mae shoved her hand into her pocket. She felt the carving of the owl and thought of Leif, safe in the Wedge.
“I told you to stay in the Wedge!” she whispered fiercely to the little squirrel.
Trina stuck her nose in the air and crossed her forelegs.
Footsteps crashing through the underbrush interrupted Mae’s rant. Illuminated by the firelight, seven fanged faces appeared. Trolls! Mae made herself as small as possible against the wagon wheel, peering through the spokes.
“There you are, my purties.” Huldfrejya pouted prettily. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
The largest troll stepped forward, wiping drool from his fangs. “Can we eats one?”
“What?” Huldfrejya screeched.
“Can we eats one…my Queen?” The troll jumped up and down and clapped his hands in anticipation.
Huldfrejya’s fists clenched and she hunched over. Her dress split to accommodate the bony spine that stuck out of her too-thin back. Fangs protruded from her upper jaw, and her nose, which was once pert and pretty, grew large. Her skin changed to a grotesque green color. “You want to eat me new servants?”
“Just one, me Queen. Hapennies are a deliciousy.”
The troll queen twitched. “Hapennies?” She pointed a bony finger at the slumbering traders. “You mean…they ain’t dwarves?”
The trolls shook their heads and licked their lips excitedly.
“Argh!” Huldfrejya screamed. “What am I gonna to do with a bunch of hapennies?”
Mae’s eyes darted through the darkness. Her nose twitched with indecision. Her palms were sweaty and her heart raced. If she ran, she was in danger of being caught. She could stay and fight, but eight trolls against one small hapenny? She’d done it before, but she’d had backup. The odds were against her.
“Well, they’re awfully good at cookin’,” the largest troll said.
“And being cooked,” muttered another under his breath.
“But are they any good at slavin’?” Huldfrejya asked.
The gang of trolls shrugged, eyes shifting back and forth until one of them spoke up. “I heard they’re good at cleanin’.”
“I’ve got brownies for that.” Huldfrejya sighed. “All this trouble and no dwarves. Leave some of those goods in the wagon and toss the hapennies in. We’ll find something useful for them to do. And round those ponies up too.”
The chickens squawked and the piglets squealed as their cages were shuffled around. Other trolls scattered to gather both hapennies and ponies. Huldfrejya was going to enslave them…if the trolls didn’t eat them first. One was coming around the corner of the wagon. Mae pulled her wand out, but quickly slipped it back in her pocket. Perhaps the best thing to do was to pretend to be under the troll queen’s spell. She slumped against the wagon wheel and closed her eyes. Trina scooted under her hat and curled into her hair.
“Hey!” A troll’s gruff whisper reached her ears as he towered over her. “Looks like this ‘un tried to runs away. Should we eats it?”
The hair on Mae’s ears stood on end. So much for pretending.
“She’d be tasty,” another answered.
“We could hides it in the trees and come backs for it,” squeaked a third.
Yes, thought Mae. Hide me in the trees!
“What are you doing?” Huldfrejya screeched. “How long can it take to throw a few of those little ones in the wagon?”
“Ah, lily-colored gizzards,” one of the trolls grumbled. “Ye waited too long.”
Rough hands gathered Mae and tossed her in the bed of the wagon. She landed on something soft. It was dark, but the light from the half-moon let her see who she was lying on top of. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she recognized Tory Longbridge. She wiggled off him, and he let out a soft whuff when her elbow dug into his ribs.
“What we gonna do with the wizard?” Mae overheard a troll ask.
“Put him across a pony,” Huldfrejya said. “He could prove useful, if he ever wakes.” The queen cackled into the night air.
Mae had been in trouble before, but this was the grandest mess she’d ever been in.
Chapter 3
Leif put the final etching into the wing of the raven he was carving. It would be his Win
ter’s Gluttony present to Mae. She would love it. After all, she did have a special spot in her heart for ravens. He wondered where the trading party was on their journey and if Mae was enjoying all the new places she was visiting.
After brushing the wood dust from his overalls, Leif set the raven on the table and listened. His ears swiveled toward the kitchen and caught the sound of his momma’s voice singing the pie song. His belly leaped for joy. She must be using the last of the blackberries he’d picked in the summer. Knowing that she was busy cooking, Leif snapped his fingers. “Sveipa!”
The broom in the corner swept into motion and pushed the curls of wood from the floor and into the hearth. Aletta had enchanted the broom and taught Leif the magick word to use to make it work, but Leif’s mother, Faria Burrbridge, was quite displeased with magick. She was still of the old mindset—that only human wizards should work magick—and believed that magick was what had started all of the Wedge’s trouble with trolls in the first place.
A squeal made Leif turn his attention from the broom. A carving of a rabbit he’d made to sell at the winter harvest market rattled against the stone floor.
“How did you get off the shelf?” Leif bent and scooped up the rabbit. Another squeal of protest reached his ears. It was too small of a squeak to be his mother. His little brother, Reed, had left the house early to fish. A movement under the table caught his eye. He dropped to his hands and knees and peered under. A shock of red hair as bright as his cousin Poppy’s surprised him. “Piskies!” He gasped and jerked back, knocking his head on the table.
His house was being invaded! The red-haired mischief-maker stumbled with the weight of a bear carving he was trying to carry away on his shoulder. Leif lay on his stomach and grabbed the bear, picking it up off the piskie’s shoulder.
“Just what do you think you are doing, you little thief!” Leif’s nostrils flared.
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