Her wand lit up and Mae took a hesitant step into the room. Poppy didn’t meet her at the door. The bed was empty. Mae crept toward the hearth and the overstuffed chairs. A pair of long feet was propped on the table. Mae raised her gaze. Geindride sat with his fingers tented under his chin. His wand lay in his lap. His steely gaze met hers as the door slammed shut behind her. “Well met, Maewyn Bridgepost.”
Chapter 15
Leif paced nervously in his bedroom as the moon rose over the hill and shone through the windows. The shadows of fingerlike limbs seemed to be pointing to the door. He grabbed his knapsack and slung it over his shoulders. Then he climbed on his perfectly made bed and shoved the window open.
A wicked cold wind rushed in, ruffling Reed’s hair. His brother grunted and pulled the covers over his face, burying himself deeper under his quilt. Peck flapped from her perch on Leif’s headboard and soared out into the night air. Leif smiled and crawled out the window as quickly as he could, shutting it behind him. He was careful not to step on the spiceberry plants under the window, since his mom liked to cut the twigs and make decorations for Winter’s Gluttony, but a few snapped regardless of his care. Burying his nose into the collar of his coat, Leif bustled down the lane toward the Bridgepost farm.
The night air was sharp, freezing the hairs in his nose. He hoped wherever Mae and the others were, they were at least warm. He took a second to pull the earflaps on his hat down and knot the ties under his chin before he pressed onward. A candle flickered in the kitchen window as Leif rounded the bend. He didn’t bother to knock on the door but pushed it open quietly and entered the room. The fire in the hearth roared as it swallowed up the push of air that had come in with Leif. Peck alighted on the fireplace mantel, her eyes shining in the low light.
Beau scrambled out from under the chair as Aletta rose, unfolding her legs from beneath her. “Trust Peck; she has great night sight and will keep you safe from any lurking trolls. Make sure you rest, or you won’t be able to think straight or have the energy to find Mae. And for ogre’s sake, don’t yell for River Weed Starr until morning. You don’t want any trolls to hear you.”
Beau climbed up Leif’s pant leg and jumped up his arm to settle on his shoulder. At least the little squirrel was light, especially compared to Peck.
Aletta held out a sack. Leif’s nose twitched—lavender muffins, apples, a bit of sharp cheese. By the weight of the bag, he was guessing it was enough for four days…maybe six if he ate a light breakfast and skipped midnight nibble. He nodded at Aletta as he took the sack. “Trust Peck, get some sleep, call River Weed Starr in the morning. Got it.”
Beau squeaked, echoing the cadence of Leif’s words, one claw held up as though he were lecturing the wizard. Leif snickered.
Aletta reached into her pocket and took out three coins. She rubbed them together. “For if you must purchase lodging at the Seven Hills.”
Leif took the coins. They were tarnished and worn from use, but he could see the outline of a pine tree stamped into one side. He flipped a coin over to reveal a rampant bear on the other side. “Human currency?”
Aletta nodded. “Left over from another life. I’m glad it may come in handy after all this time.”
“Thank you, Aletta.” He stuffed the coins in his pants pocket.
“You’re welcome,” the wizard said.
“Is that it, then?” Leif shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. He glanced at the map on the table. He was anxious to get going, but something told him Aletta wasn’t quite ready for him to leave.
The wizard smoothed her hair from her face. “You’ll stick to the plan?”
“Yes…and?” Leif prodded.
“Squeak?” Beau echoed.
“If you find them before me, send me a message.”
Leif grabbed the wizard’s hands. “Of course, Aletta. I’ll send it with Peck. Now I must get going, and you must get some rest if you are going to recover from the fever.”
Aletta squeezed his hand and then let him go, pushing past him to open the door. She pointed at Beau. “You don’t be any trouble, Beau!”
Beau squeaked something that sounded like “I won’t” as Leif walked outside, Peck following.
“Go with speed,” Aletta said. “And don’t worry! I’ll convince your mom to let me get rid of the piskies!”
Leif turned at the top of the rise and waved to the wizard before descending the hill and crossing the bridge. The black raven sentinels guarding the bridge from trolls shone in the moonlight. Their heads turned and their eyes blinked as he crossed. He thought he heard a ruffle of feathers. As he passed the Gelbane tree, he thought of Mae and a sudden pang of loneliness struck him. He had never missed someone so much in his entire life. That pang pushed him to walk a bit faster.
The forest was alive with night noises—the howls of wolves and yips of coyotes, and owl hoots, which Peck would occasionally answer and Beau would shiver at. It was too cold for many other animals to be out. The night was brightly lit by the moon, which streamed into the forest through the spindly fingers of the bare trees and shone on the needles of the conifers. Thankfully, the wind had died down a bit. Leif was deep in the forest before he even thought about trolls. He pushed that fear into the back of his mind and trekked on.
As the dark night began to pale, Peck found a large hollow in a tree and nestled in. Leif shrugged off his knapsack and groaned. His shoulder muscles had been screaming for the last hour, and he supposed this was as good a spot as any to rest.
At the bottom of the tree was a thick, fallen log covered in bright green reindeer moss. It would block some of the wind. A rocky hill rose up behind the tree. Leif dropped his knapsack and plopped on the soft ground next to the log. He drew in a huge breath and called out, “River Weed Starr! Mae needs your help!”
The tree limbs rattled and scratched against each other as a breeze swept through the forest. Leif pulled his hat down tighter and opened the food sack Aletta had given him. The smell of lavender wafted out as he reached in. Now that he wasn’t walking, his belly was protesting the skipped midnight nibble. He bit into a cold muffin and barely savored the sweet taste. His eyelids were heavy as he wearily nibbled on a chunk of cheese, breaking off a piece to share with Beau, who was watching him longingly. Leif curled into the side of the tree and promptly fell asleep. He didn’t even feel the little squirrel burrow under his neck.
The weak sun woke Leif around midafternoon. It did little to warm the air around him, but at least the air was still. Puffs of white floated around his head from his warm breath. Beau was scuffling near the tree under the fallen leaves. His head popped up when Leif stretched and yawned, and the squirrel held up an acorn as though he’d found gold. Leif chuckled at the squirrel’s antics as Beau cracked the acorn against a large rock peeking out from under the piled-up leaves. He wished he could start a fire and make a pot of tea, but as he unrolled the map and checked his progress, it looked as though he’d only covered about half the distance he’d hoped to. Peck hooted sleepily above him, one eye blinking open. She shook her feathers and stretched her wings.
After grabbing an apple and a couple chunks of cheese, Leif slipped the food bag inside his knapsack. Settling the straps over his shoulders, he called to the squirrel. “Let’s go, Beau!”
His cheeks packed with the meat of the acorn, Beau hopped over to Leif and scrambled up to settle on his shoulder, wrapping his tail around Leif’s neck. Leif reached up and scratched Beau’s head. “You make a pretty good scarf.”
The squirrel chittered and grabbed on to the tie of Leif’s hat as Leif made his way back to the path. Peck swooped over them, flying farther ahead and then circling back, as though she was scouting the area. Leif ate the apple and cheese chunks as he walked. After swallowing, he yelled into the forest. “River Weed Starr!”
Nothing stirred. The pale yellow sun dappled through the trees, warming the white bark of the tall birches. Peck hooted above as she swooped close to him and dropped a thick twig on the
path. Without missing a step, Leif bent and snatched the stick up. It was a good size for carving, about as long as his forearm. He peeled the bark off, littering the path behind him. The wood was soft and dry.
Peck swooped in front of him again, so close he could feel her wingtips brush against his nose. He jerked back as she screeched—her call was filled with panic. Leif perked his ears and heard hoofbeats. He struck a beeline toward a tall tree with thick roots protruding above the ground at the edge of the forest. Sliding over the tangle of roots, he ducked behind them and peeked through a gap. Fifteen men on really big horses were pounding toward him. Some of the reins carried the remnants of faded and ragged yellow and red flags that whipped and snapped in the wind. The riders’ chainmail was dull and black. The lead rider wore a worn surcoat with a bear and a unicorn flanking a shield of thistles. Another rider carried a long pennant with the same symbol. It too had seen better days, but Leif recognized them as King Huldhill’s men. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to find the giant after all!
He scrambled from his hiding place, took the badge from his pocket, and held it up as he called out to them, “Wait! Stop! Please!”
But none stopped. Leif sighed as the last rider rode quickly past him without a second glance. Beau jumped from his shoulder and ran after the riders a few paces before stopping and raising his fisted paw. He shook it at the king’s men and scolded them in his high-pitched squeak before returning to Leif’s shoulder to pout.
Leif scratched his head through the knit cap. It would’ve been so much faster to hitch a ride on one of those large horses. He could still feel the rumble of the hooves as he pocketed the badge again. Shifting his knapsack, he stowed away the stick Peck had given him and started walking again. He’d only walked a few paces when Peck streaked past him screeching out another warning. As Leif looked up, the horses and their riders came back into view.
He stopped as the horses circled around him. He felt Beau crawl under his hat. The poor little squirrel was trembling. The lead rider in the faded surcoat looked down at Leif from atop his high seat. “What’s a hapenny doing traveling alone in this forest?”
Leif took out the badge and held it up.
The leader prodded his mount forward, and Leif stood his ground as the horse halted next to him. The animal was so close Leif felt the heat emanating from its belly, smelled the leather of the saddle. He stood on tiptoe as the human bent low over the saddle and stretched down. The human plucked the badge from Leif’s hand and inspected it. “Where did you get this?”
“From a wizard I know.” Leif tried to keep his voice from squeaking.
The group of men chuckled at this statement.
“You know a wizard?” the leader said. “I suppose you are going to tell me that one lives in your village next.”
Leif swallowed. “Yes, actually. Two live in our village. Callum and Aletta.”
A look Leif couldn’t quite decipher crossed the leader’s dark face. The other men were stone silent.
“Callum and Aletta,” the leader repeated.
“Yes. Do you know them?” Leif asked.
“Colm, put that hapenny boy on your horse,” the leader said. He then turned his horse and continued down the road with the rest of the party following.
One of the men dismounted and lifted Leif into his saddle. Then he remounted and squeezed the horse’s sides. The cold metal of the soldier’s helmet rubbed against his right shin. Three dead rabbits strung from the saddle bumped Leif’s left leg as the horse pranced under him. He hoped they were dinner.
“Hold on,” Colm said as his horse wheeled and turned before breaking into a canter.
Leif squeezed Colm tight around his belly, his face squashed against the soldier’s cold chainmail. He’d never dreamed of flying, but that’s what it felt like to ride on the back of the warhorse. A Wedge pony could never have run this fast. “I need to talk to your leader,” he yelled into the wind.
“You’ll have time when we stop for the night,” Colm said.
“Colm, can I call you that? My friends are in trouble. I need to talk to him now.”
The wind gusted, making the downed leaves dance over the road. Horses startled and spooked, dancing under their saddles. Hooves stamped on the hard-packed ground as reins were pulled. Leif wondered if it was something he’d said as he peeked around Colm’s broad back, and then a very loud creak, like the sound of a tree falling, filled the forest.
A humungous foot settled in the middle of the road. A voice boomed above. “Who’s that yelling, calling, requesting help from me?”
Leif gathered his courage, but his voice trembled as he answered the giant in as loud a voice as he could muster. “It was I who called you.”
“Come out, come out where I can observe, see, meet you,” the giant said.
Leif swung his leg over the horse’s back and slid down from behind Colm. His legs felt like warm pudding as they dangled in the air. As he looked over his shoulder to judge the distance left between him and the ground, he immediately regretted his hasty decision to dismount without help. He looked up at Colm.
“Um…a little help, if you don’t mind?” Colm grabbed his arm and lowered him almost to the ground before releasing him.
Leif landed with a thump, but safely on both feet and turned toward the giant.
River Weed Starr crouched. “Why do you yell, call, request me? Why do you say Mae needs my help, aid, assistance? You are not Maewyn Bridgepost.”
The giant’s hand pounded the road. The leaves at the edge jumped into the ditch, the nearby trees shivered, the horses snorted, and Leif shook in his boots. His nose twitched. Perhaps he was wrong about asking the giant for help.
“I am Reed’s older brother—you know, the hapenny boy you found in the woods a couple of years ago and took to Callum’s cottage? I’m also Mae’s best friend,” Leif said. “I called you in her name.”
The giant’s face softened. “Well, why didn’t you say, declare, tell me that in the first place?”
Relief washed over Leif. Perhaps the giant would help him. “Mae and Callum, and the others are in trouble.”
“In trouble?” the giant’s voice rolled over the landscape like thunder.
“You didn’t tell me that Callum was in trouble!” the lead soldier said.
Leif nodded. “Yes. The traveling party was heading toward the human town of Larissa, but something’s happened. She sent Peck.” Leif pointed to the owl that had settled on a limb about eye level with River Weed Starr. She hooted and blinked her golden eyes.
“Peck can show us the way—but on foot, I cannot travel very quickly. King Huldhill’s men kindly picked me up, but I have not been able to speak with their leader yet.” Leif peered at the lead soldier from under his lashes.
River Weed Starr sized up each man and then focused on the soldier with the surcoat on. “Brynjar, is it?”
The leader nodded in greeting. “Greetings, friendly giant. But how did you know my name?”
“You are the soldier, wanderer, seeker who has been searching for the lost princess these many years, are you not?”
Brynjar sat a little taller in his saddle. “I am.”
“All the creatures of the trees, forest, wildwood know of you and your mission,” the giant said. “Perhaps I can help, aid, assist you as well. Can you and your men keep pace?”
Brynjar looked at his men. They all nodded back at him, hands tight on their reins. “As long as our horses last.”
Leif reached for Colm’s arm and was lifted onto the back of the horse again as River Weed Starr made his way down the road toward Larissa. The trees that grew on the giant’s back swayed with each movement, and his stringy, root-like hair flowed behind him. Beau slid out of Leif’s hat, which was just as well, because he was making Leif sweat like a roasting chicken. He took his place on Leif’s shoulder and stood on his hind legs to peek over Colm’s shoulder. Peck swooped in front of River Weed Starr and took the lead as day turned into dusk.
Chapter 16
“Where is the queen? And Poppy?” Mae asked. She tried to keep her voice from trembling.
Geindride leaned forward, eye level with Mae. He searched her face as he stroked his pointed beard. “They are being… taken care of.”
Mae cringed at the tone of the wizard’s voice. “Are you going to put me somewhere safe as well? A tower, or a cage in the dungeon, perhaps?”
The smile on Geindride’s face was almost maniacal as he stood. He gestured widely with his hands. “No, I will keep you here and make you the new queen of the trolls. All of this will be yours to rule as you please. There’s never been a hapenny queen before. Trolls would serve you. I would serve you.”
Mae’s wand wavered. “Trolls aren’t very good servants.” What is Geindride up to? Could I use this offer to my advantage? Could this buy me some time to find the comb and break the spell?
Geindride laughed. “That depends on what you ask them to do. Trolls are very good at kidnapping, raiding, and keeping magickal animals, well, if not well-kept, at least alive.”
Mae pointed at the candle on the table. “Villielder!” The candle flamed to life, and Mae slipped her wand back into her pocket.
The wizard watched her every move. He pointed at her pocket. “Your wand, is it rowan wood?”
“Yes,” Mae answered.
Geindride seemed disturbed by this. His face turned a strange shade of pale green, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair.
“Does that distress you?” she asked.
Chuckling nervously, Geindride tried to hide his feelings with bravado. “Distress me? Ha! A little hapenny like you?”
“I am the littlest in the Wedge. I thought after Gelbane… er…left, that I might grow a bit faster, but no luck.” She shrugged nonchalantly. Truth was, she’d grown a lot under Callum and Aletta’s care, but was still only up to Leif’s shoulder.
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