“Hill and dale,
wing and scale,
my need is dire,
something, something fire—Cat-a-bats!”
Why did spells always have to rhyme? Why couldn’t they just be simple, like kill the dragon! I was contemplating this when a figure tumbled out of the woods directly in front of me.
Its eyes darted frantically from left to right. It must have seen me and Jez and the fire-breathing lizard, but it took no notice as it ran toward the road. The creature had a dog’s head and a body that looked like stone … almost like a gargoyle had broken off Notre Dame and decided to vacation in the evil enchanted forest. Even my fear of the dragon was put on hold as this seriously weird-looking creature ran in front of us and disappeared into the trees on the other side of the road.
“Where do you suppose that thing’s running off to in such a hurry?” I asked.
“Uh, Rune,” Jez said, nodding her little bat noggin toward the woods.
From the forest burst an enormous dragon. It descended upon the road in a fury and made the dragon in front of us look like a toy.
“We have to get out of here before this gets worse,” Jez said.
“How could it possibly get worse?” I asked.
“How many heads are you counting on the big one?” Jez asked, ignoring my question.
I did a quick tally. “Twelve.”
Five or six of the heads spotted (and immediately dismissed) me and poor, fluttering Jezebel.
“It doesn’t seem to care about us,” Jez said.
“Duh,” I said. “We obviously aren’t worth the trouble to something that huge! Eating us would be like eating a bread crumb—especially once all the heads have a bite!”
When the creature spotted the smaller dragon, it roared furiously, setting the surrounding trees ablaze.
“Time to go?” Jez asked.
“Oh, definitely.”
We fled toward the woods. Behind us, Smoky huffed indignantly while Twitchy cowered. Poor Dazed was still, well, dazed. The immense dragon had no baby webbing to hold its wings down. It unleashed them with massive flapping motions, causing a mini cyclone that sent me and Jezebel tumbling backward.
It was bad enough for me, but poor Jez was blown around like a leaf. I reached up a hand to pluck her out of the air and scurried to the safety of the few trees that weren’t ablaze. Together we watched as the big dragon roared and huffed at the littler dragon.
“I think that one is the parent,” I said to Jezebel as I pointed at Papa D.
“Looks kinda mad,” Jezebel said. “Reminds me of the way my dad looked during the cocoa incident.”
“Well then, let’s get out of here while it’s distracted,” I said.
Jez quickly agreed. She transformed back into a girl as we silently made our way deeper into the forest. Behind us Papa D. was using most of its heads to nudge Smoky and the gang off the road and back toward the forest. Smoky was still spewing thick tendrils of smoke from his nostrils, but without Twitchy or Dazed to back him up, he was pretty much defeated.
“Oh, by the way, thanks ever so much for abandoning me to a possible fiery death,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Jez asked. “I stayed with you the whole time!”
“Yeah. A flying rat is soooo helpful!”
“Excuse me? Did you just call me a rat?” Jez asked as we dashed from tree to tree.
“Careful,” I said. “We don’t want to get lost in here.”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Rune!” Jez said.
“I’m not,” I lied. “It’s just we definitely don’t want to run into that dog-headed thing … whatever it was. An ogre maybe?”
“Capcaun. It’s called a capcaun,” Jez said.
“Are they dangerous?” I asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before.”
“Oh, so now you want information from Mistress Smartyfangs.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Yes. Please inform me.”
“Well, capcauns can be dangerous. Mostly they like to kidnap kids—specifically young ladies. They prefer princesses, or so the legends go.”
“Really?” I asked, perking up. “I wish I’d known. I would’ve made him my henchman!”
“We were a little busy at the time, remember?” Jez asked.
CHAPTER SIX
Henchmen Don’t Give Hugs
Oh, no. The sun’s still up!”
Jez stepped out from the cave where we’d spent most of the day sleeping. Actually, it was where she’d spent the day sleeping. Somehow, I got stuck outside the cave “keeping an eye out for dragons.”
We set out on foot again now that we’d had time to rest. Beams of sunlight pierced the dense forest canopy and stabbed at the ground like swords. Jezebel was in a bad temper because every few feet she risked stumbling into a patch of random sunlight. A slight sizzling sound alerted me to her predicament.
“Aaaa!” she screeched, quickly pulling up her hood. But it was too late.
A rosy red rash was blossoming on both her cheeks, not to mention her nose. The pink hue contrasted sharply with her ashy gray skin.
“Don’t you think we should’ve found the road by now?” she asked, stepping carefully around another patch of sunlight.
We had planned on spending the night hidden in the forest, then returning to the road again in the morning. However, Jez was right. It was taking us a lot longer to find it than it should have. I was about to suggest we try a different direction when I heard something.
“What is that?” Jezebel asked.
We both squinted into the forest.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I think it’s coming from over there.” I pointed toward a dense, overgrown hillock about thirty yards away.
“It sounds like some kind of animal chittering,” Jez said.
“It sounds like giggling to me,” I said.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan followed by a thunderous splash, then more chitter-giggles. Jez and I exchanged nervous glances and moved forward cautiously.
“This is the part in the stories where trouble starts for the hero,” I said.
“Good thing we’re not heroes.” Jez shot me a look. I couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.
As we got closer to the hillock, I could make out the sounds more clearly. I heard a stream or small waterfall of some kind. There was definitely someone or something moaning as if in pain. The chittering animal sounds were more distinct too.
Jezebel and I crept silently to the edge of the hillock and peered over. Beneath us a scene unfolded. A stream wound and bubbled around the base of the hillock. About twenty feet below us, it formed a deep, glittering pool before moving on around the hill and out of sight.
Gathered around the pool were about a dozen little critters, each no bigger than my hand.
“Sprites!” I whispered.
No two looked alike, and yet they all shared similar features. Some wore pointy hats made of acorns; others wore curling shoes adorned with tiny charms and bells. One was as thin as a string bean, another fat and stumpy. Yet all of them seemed as though they were formed from bits and pieces of the forest combined with mix-and-match animal parts like tusks or horns. The little sprites also had hands and feet, which made them look a little like people too. We watched as some of the tiny sprites hopped and skipped in a circle while turning a wooden crank attached to a rope.
“What is that thing?” Jez asked, pointing at a much larger being dangling upside down from the rope.
“It’s one of those ogre creatures!” I said excitedly.
“Capcaun,” Jez corrected.
The beast’s skin was the color of rocks—gray and flecked. He wore only a pair of cut-off pants that might have been blue once, but had become faded and frayed. His doglike head hung just a few feet above the water. As we watched, the ogre whimpered in agony, anticipating what would happen next.
Sure enough, the little creatures who had been cranking the rope stopped and,
all at once, let go. There was a moment of complete silence. The sprites all stopped moving and chittering to watch the poor dog-headed ogre plunge headfirst into the pool. As soon as his head hit the water, the sprites erupted in fits of laughter. Then they hoisted the beast up and did it all over again.
“We should get back to the road,” Jezebel said. She didn’t seem to particularly care about the sprites or their captive, but I did.
“No way,” I said. “We have to capture that ogre to be my henchman!”
“Are you serious?” Jezebel asked. “What could a capcaun do that you can’t?”
“Capture a princess. You said yourself that’s what they do.”
“In legends, Rune,” said Jez. “In real life they probably whine and slobber and eat all your chocolate.”
“You are downright stingy with chocolate. Besides, I have to find a henchman! It’s part of the Plot. And it won’t even be hard to capture him. Look. The sprites have already done the work for us.” I pointed at the scene below as evidence.
Jez sighed dramatically, then itched at her nose where the blotchy red rash was finally fading a little.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked. I knew she’d come around.
“We’ll just go tell them we want their ogre,” I said.
She looked at me like I was crazy. Why do girls always think a perfectly simple plan (like demanding the release of a prisoner from unstable magical creatures) is crazy?
“And you think they’ll just hand him right over?”
“Sure. Why not?” I asked.
Jez rolled her eyes as I gave her my most roguish smile. Then we made our way down the hill. The sprites had just hauled the ogre up for another dunking when one of them spotted us. I couldn’t tell what he was saying, because I don’t speak sprite gibberish, but the frantic jumping and pointing kind of tipped me off. Soon, all the sprites had gathered around us, except for a handful who struggled at the crank, trying to hold the capcaun up in the air.
One of the sprites approached us and began gesturing rudely. He must’ve been their leader, because his toes were longer and curlier than the rest; plus he wore a bright jewel on a makeshift crown made of woven sticks. (Closer inspection revealed the jewel to be just an ordinary drop of water trapped within the crown.) He prattled on and on in his twittering voice.
“Look,” I said. “I have no clue what you’re saying, but we need your ogre—”
“Capcaun,” Jez corrected.
“Capcaun, so hand him over and nobody gets squished.”
“Smooth,” Jez muttered. I ignored her.
The tiny sprite didn’t seem to understand. I tried miming. First, I pointed at the ogre. Then I pointed at the sprite leader. Then I took my fist and pounded it onto my palm in a way I hoped was threatening.
Apparently, some part of my message got through, because as soon as I’d finished, the sprites began running around in a panicky sort of way.
There was another loud splash. With no one to man the crank, the ogre had fallen once more into the water. The little sprites scattered like roaches, disappearing into the forest.
“Give me a hand,” I said to Jez as I ran over to the creature and untied his leg.
“Ewww. No way. I’ll get wet.”
“How is it girls can spend three hours soaking in a hot bath but can’t manage a few drips from a sopping ogre?” I asked.
“Capcaun,” Jez said. “And you’re really going to accuse me of too much tub time? I seem to recall last week a line stretching from the bath caves to the Great Clock and several students complaining that Rune Drexler was in the tub again taking his sweet time—”
“Let’s not dredge up the past,” I said quickly.
I managed to untie the creature on my own. At this point I was expecting him to attempt escape, so I held out my arms, ready to grab him the minute he stood up. This was a bad idea for two reasons.
First, the ogre had no intention of escape, so my attempts to capture him were pointless. Second—and this was really the clincher—he mistook my open arms for an invitation to hug me. He raised his dripping wet, stony body out of the pool and embraced me in a great big bear hug that nearly crushed my ribs.
“Ewww!” I said as he soaked my clothes.
“What’s wrong, Rune?” Jez asked with a smirk. “Can’t manage a few drips from a sopping ogre?”
“Capcaun,” I said irritably.
“Little man save Cappy. Best friends!” the creature said in a deep, slow voice. I started to rethink my plan to make him my henchman—especially when Jezebel erupted in giggles.
“Good job capturing a henchman, Rune. Now I think the trick will be getting rid of him,” she said between fits of laughter.
I pushed the capcaun away from me. He stumbled back to the water’s edge, where he just stood like a stone statue, his arms dangling like a gorilla’s as he stared at me with clueless gratitude.
“Look here,” I said, trying to sound authoritative. “What do you know about kidnapping princesses?”
He stared at me for a full thirty seconds. When a thin string of drool began to dangle from the corner of his slack jaw, I decided he wasn’t going to answer me. Time to elaborate.
“Princesses? Hello?” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. He smiled and nodded. Not a good sign.
“Purdy girly,” he said, eyeing Jezebel, who suddenly stopped laughing.
“Hey!” she said in alarm as the capcaun lumbered toward her. “Stop! Don’t come near me. I mean it!”
The capcaun completely ignored Jezebel’s warning. I worried he didn’t realize who he was dealing with. Sure, Jez was just a halfsie, but her bite could be as lethal as a full-fledged vampire’s. She backed away, baring her teeth, but the brainless creature grabbed her arm.
“No, Jez! Don’t!” I shouted. Too late.
Before I could stop her, Jezebel sank her fangs into his clawed hand.
“Yow!” he and Jez both cried simultaneously.
The capcaun pulled his hand away and stuck out his bottom lip like a two-year-old. There was a small scratch where Jez had bitten, but the skin remained unbroken. Jezebel raised her fingers to her mouth.
“I think he nearly chipped my tooth!” she cried, wiggling each of her teeth experimentally.
“He must be immune to vampires,” I said thoughtfully. Maybe he had some magical properties after all—or maybe he really was made of stone.
“Mean bitey girly!” The capcaun pouted, frowning at Jezebel.
“Mean grabby gargoyle!” Jezebel retaliated.
“Good one, Jez,” I said sarcastically. She hissed at me.
“Okay, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. My name is Rune. What’s your name?” I asked.
“Name Cappy.”
“Cappy. Nice to meet you. This is Jezebel.” I pointed to Jez, who glared at the capcaun. He eyed her with obvious and open mistrust.
“Okay, introductions over. Listen, Cappy, did you like those mean sprites tying you up and dunking you in the river?” I thought it would be best to remind him we had just saved him.
“No! Spriteys mean. Cappy no like wet,” he said, scratching behind one of his gray dog ears with his clawed fingers.
“And aren’t you glad we rescued you?” I asked, trying to drop a hint.
“Cappy glaaaaaad,” he said, smiling at me. He had two enormous bottom teeth that curved up over his doglike snout when he smiled. It was funny and a little frightening. I could see why Jez bit him.
“Right, glad. Good. So, wouldn’t you like to help us now, Cappy?”
“Cappy help!” he answered, smiling even bigger. “Cappy help Ruuuuney.”
“Swell. So, would you like to be my henchman?”
Another thirty seconds passed as Cappy smiled stupidly. Smaller words. I had to use smaller words.
“Would you like to help us find a pretty girly?” I asked.
“Pretty! Pretty girly!” He smiled and jumped, shaking the ground. “No meany girlies with
pointy teethies!” he said, frowning at Jezebel again.
She hissed at him.
“Cut it out, Jez,” I said.
“I don’t want him coming with us!” she said.
I pulled her aside.
“Look, we don’t have many options here. Let’s take him along. If we find something better, we’ll dump him. Agreed?”
Jez looked over my shoulder at the dripping ogre.
“Fine,” she said.
“Girly mad?” Cappy asked, his eyes huge and sad. I think he already forgot Jez had bitten him.
There was a long pause. Finally, I elbowed Jez. She sighed dramatically.
“No, Cappy. I’m not mad.”
“There, see? All is forgiven. Nice girly.” I smiled, patting Jez on the head. She pinched my arm.
“Ow!” I said, pulling away. “Okay, Cappy, if you’re going to be my henchman, you need to know one very important rule: henchmen don’t give hugs. Got that? Good. Now, come with us.”
But he really didn’t have a choice because at that moment, a rainstorm of miniature arrows arced out from behind the trees and stabbed at me and Jez like a hundred stinging needles. Cappy seemed immune. His hard, rocklike skin deflected the barrage. Still, he appeared kind of angry all the same.
From behind tree trunks and leaves, little black eyes glared at us. The sprites had returned with reinforcements. I guess I hadn’t scared them off after all. Jez turned into a bat and flew away.
“Girly can fly,” Cappy said in awe.
“Yeah, ouch! Super,” I replied, pulling my cloak over my head to deflect the tiny arrows. “Way to stick together, Jez! C’mon Cappy! Let’s—ouch!—get out of here.”
I ran in the direction Jez had flown.
Cappy lumbered after me, kicking sprites left and right with his big clawed feet. They sailed through the air, landed hard on their rumps, and chattered angrily, shaking their fists at us. It was a relief to make it back into the protection of the surrounding trees.
Cappy and I ran on for a few more minutes until we finally caught up with Jezebel. I was glad to see we hadn’t lost her; however, we had lost something. The road. Now I really had no idea which direction it was in.
“Jez, why don’t you fly up and have a look around? At least you can be some use to us as a bat.”
Good Curses Evil Page 6