by SJB Gilmour
‘Are you sure he’s missing?’ Angela asked Amelia.
Amelia nodded. ‘Between you and me, I think he’s dead. The hospital’s investigators have been trying to find him for decades with no success.’ She looked at the jar again with a confused expression.
Almost guiltily, Sarah changed form and stood in front of Amelia, nervously wagging her tail. Feeling quite embarrassed, she licked her nose and wagged her tail again. She then changed back to human.
‘Well, I’ll be!’ Amelia gasped. She held the jar reverently. ‘You have three… Could you spare two? One each?’ she asked Sarah.
Sarah shrugged. ‘Sure!’ she urged the healer.
Mel rushed to hug her friend, her eyes full of tears.
‘Lucky coincidence?’ Benjamin asked aside Angela.
‘It would be if I believed in coincidences,’ she replied.
‘You’d better follow me, then.’ Amelia marched quickly out of the office and down the hall to Mel’s parents’ room. At the door, she paused. ‘Only a few moments now, please. We mustn’t tire them out. It will be some time before they’re able to talk without exhausting themselves.’
The fresh salve applied to Mel’s parents smelled even more putrid. Sarah’s nose, perhaps more sensitive now that she was spending more and more time as a wolf, wrinkled in disgust. Mel and Benjamin’s nostrils also flared with distaste. Jimbo however, who was nestled comfortably in his usual resting place on Mel’s shoulder, inhaled deeply and whirled his eyes, relishing the foul odour. Mel looked up at her firedrake and rolled her eyes.
‘He’s like a dog,’ she observed to Sarah. ‘Give him the most horrible smelling stuff in the world and he’ll roll in it up to his eye-ridges!’ She gave Sarah a sidelong glance. ‘Do wolves do that too?’ she teased.
Sarah ignored her friend’s taunt. She turned to Ronny. ‘What is this stuff?’ she asked, aghast at the smell.
Ronny chuckled. ‘Rhubarb balm is normally made up of equal parts salt, water, anchovy paste, raspberry cordial, yoghurt and durian pulp to twenty parts boiled rhubarb. My grandmother usually throws in a handful of cloves and a shot of tequila per kilo of rhubarb to give it a bit of extra kick.’ He made a rueful face. ‘Well, so she says… I think it’s more like one shot for the brew, one shot for her.’
Sarah was puzzled. ‘What’s durian?’ she asked.
‘It’s a tropical fruit that smells a great deal like a manure pile,’ Ronny replied. ‘The riper it gets, the worse it smells. It ferments on the tree. I’m told that those who can handle the odour quite like the taste. But then, human mortals eat some of the strangest things.’
Sarah shuddered then looked at the two freshly salved patients. Susan and David Hazelwood were both still fast asleep, oblivious to their presence or even the vile smell of the essence of rhubarb. True to Amelia’s assessment, Susan was breathing much more easily than David. That was the only difference however. Although the room was quite cool, both patients were sweating profusely. Their sleeping faces were wrinkled in pain.
Amelia carefully opened the jar and tipped two of the Golden Mane hairs out onto a small tray then handed the jar back to Sarah.
Sarah didn’t really know what to do with the jar. She handed it to Mel.
‘You sure?’ Mel asked.
Sarah nodded. ‘What am I going to do with it? Besides, I’ve got plenty.’
Amelia was looking at the two hairs thoughtfully and then she looked at her two patients.
‘What’s the matter?’ Sarah asked her.
‘I’m going to have to split one of these hairs, I’m afraid.
Sarah looked at the healer blankly.
‘Master Hazelwood here is doing much better than her husband,’ Amelia said, nodding at Susan. ‘Still, she could do with some help. I’ll give her half a hair, and her husband one and a half.’ She picked up one of the hairs by one end and held it up to the light. Then with her free hand, she produced a gleaming set of scissors. She looked at Sarah with one eyebrow raised. ‘Miss Coppernick, if I could prevail upon you to hold one end of this hair, please?’
Sarah reached up and gently held the other end of the golden hair between her finger and thumb. Amelia then neatly snipped the hair in two. As soon as the scissors went snip, Sarah felt a brief tinge on her back. She shivered.
Amelia looked at her seriously. ‘Are you alright?’
Sarah shrugged. ‘That just felt weird,’ she mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed. She gave the half hair back to Amelia.
‘Hmm, interesting,’ Amelia mused. Then she turned her attention to her patients. She drew back David’s covers and put one and a half of Sarah’s golden hairs in the balm on his chest. Then, standing with her body modestly protecting Susan’s chest from view, she laid the single remaining half on her wounded breast.
The awful smelling rhubarb balm on David and Susan shimmered lightly and seemed to pulse as though it was alive. Then Sarah’s Golden Mane hairs disappeared entirely into the balm. The balm glowed and shimmered and changed to a metallic, golden colour. David drew in a deep shuddering breath and he relaxed. The frown lines on his face eased and he began to breathe much more easily. Susan also reacted in a similar way. Mel gasped as she saw the effect the two tiny Golden Mane hairs had on her father and mother.
The tinge Sarah had felt when the hair was cut was nothing to the sensation she now felt. Her heart was racing and she felt an incredibly warm surge in her body that ran from her toes to her nose. She gasped and shivered briefly, feeling incredibly light-headed for a moment. Then, when her heart began to slow down, she felt almost exhausted and relaxed at the same time. An involuntary groan escaped her lips and she swayed slightly.
‘Easy, Miss Sarah!’ Ronny said gently. The little gnome guided her to a chair and helped her sit down. It took several minutes before Sarah was able to stand again. She wasn’t sure why her friends were looking at her so strangely, but she felt very self-conscious about the strange sensation that had overtaken her.
Amelia professionally felt her brow with the back of her hand and then looked at her eyes and made her open her mouth and say ‘Ahh’. When she was satisfied that Sarah had suffered no serious harm, she shook her head in awe and then turned and ushered everyone out of the room.
Once the door was shut, she turned to Sarah. ‘Well, young lady, I must thank you!’
‘You’re welcome,’ Sarah replied modestly. ‘I didn’t do much. What just happened to me?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Amelia said curiously. ‘So little is actually written down about Golden Manes and their abilities. I must say, this is a wonderful opportunity to observe the phenomenon.’
Sarah felt embarrassed and blushed. She hung her head to let her shaggy hair fall over her flaming face.
‘She’s as generous as she is humble,’ Amelia observed to Benjamin, patting Sarah on the shoulder. ‘Your pack must be very proud.’
Benjamin smiled mischievously. ‘When she’s not fighting in the schoolyard or getting my offices invaded by trolls,’ he teased, tousling his niece’s already tousled hair. They walked back to the office and sat back in their seats.
Amelia went to a cupboard and took out eight shot glasses and a large bottle of a dark brown spirit.
Seeing Sarah’s surprised expression, she smiled. ‘Chinese Fighting Maple rum,’ she explained. ‘Helps fight off the winter chills.’
She poured out a shot for each of them.
Ronny smiled held his up to Amelia. ‘Cheers!’ he said and downed the shot in one go. His eyes widened. ‘Nice stuff. Where’d you get it?’
‘Na zdorovie!’ Amelia responded in Russian. ‘My brother in-law runs a distillery in Shanghai.’ She reached into her drawer and found a business card, which she gave to the gnome. ‘Give Alex a call.’
Thanks to Wolfenvald, Sarah recognised ‘Na zdorovie’ to translate to ‘To your health!’ She looked at Mel and the others nervously. She was just eleven years old. There was no way she’d normally be allowed to drink anythin
g alcoholic were she back in Melbourne. Neither Angela not Aunt Roberta seemed bothered in the least so she took a tiny sip of her drink. It felt hot on her tongue and made her shudder slightly. It tasted very much like maple syrup, only stronger and obviously alcoholic. When she swallowed, she felt a warm, tingly feeling seem to radiate outward from her belly. Soon her ears felt hot and she felt as though she was being bathed in warm sunlight. She looked at Aunt Roberta.
‘You’re a bit young,’ her aunt admitted, ‘but a shot or two of CFM rum never hurts this time of year.’ She knocked her shot back and smiled.
Angela finished her drink and turned to Amelia. ‘I’ve some questions, if you don’t mind, Master Amelia.’
Amelia’s mood changed. She frowned apologetically. ‘Master Hardingleflass, I didn’t mention it before because the welfare of our patients comes first, and I certainly don’t want to appear ungrateful for the wonderful help you’ve all been…’ She paused, pouring herself another drink.
‘It’s alright,’ Benjamin said with his most charming smile. He held his glass out for another shot as well.
Amelia poured without changing expression. ‘Master McConnell,’ she began, holding her glass up in another silent toast. ‘The Guild has advised the hospital that your…’ and then she nodded at Angela, ‘…and Master Hardingleflass’ here, security classifications have been revoked. I’m not even supposed to be letting you in the building.’ She swallowed her drink and set the glass down on the table.
Angela nodded. ‘I appreciate that, Master Amelia, and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you…’
Amelia made an indelicate sound. ‘It’s no trouble. The Guild can take a running jump. My patients come first. You’ve provided a great service to the hospital and medicine in general today. Actually, it’s the hospital that has the problem.’
‘Oh?’ Angela raised one eyebrow. ‘I was just curious about where my sister and brother in law were found…’
‘I was getting to that. Those trolls are still out there. The Guild’s not being very helpful at the moment. Nothing unusual about that,’ and she frowned slightly, ‘though they’re being a bit more difficult lately… Anyway, the hospital’s worried that if there are more injuries, we may not be able to cope.’
‘And since we’re at odds with The Guild, we don’t have to wait for their permission to take any action?’ Benjamin suggested.
Amelia smiled and sighed gratefully. ‘Would you mind?’
‘Not at all, Master Amelia.’ Benjamin’s smile was charming and genuine.
Sarah suddenly remembered exactly why he was her most favourite uncle in the whole world.
‘Do you have any idea how many there are?’ he continued.
Amelia flushed slightly and continued. ‘There can’t be that many of them. We found The Hazelwoods in the forest at the base of the mountain. It’s a damp place to be right now.’ She went to a drawer and pulled out a large laminated map.
Sarah had seen maps like it before. It was the kind she’d seen her parents use often when they were planning trips out into the forest. She remembered tracing around the lines with her crayons.
‘Here’s the mountain,’ Amelia told them, pointing at a large, conical mountain in the middle of the map. ‘Klaus contacted us. He managed to keep the trolls at bay until hospital staff arrived with water wands to scare them off completely. We only counted three, but there could have been more hiding somewhere, though our scrying didn’t turn up anything. Klaus might know more, though I don’t like your chances of getting much out of him.’
‘Why not?’ Sarah asked.
Amelia sighed again. ‘He was most put out that he was disturbed to begin with. Then, trolls raided his volcano. He likes his privacy. After we left, he burrowed deep into the crater. We couldn’t even get him to sign the admittance forms.’
Benjamin looked at Angela and the others. ‘Who’s up for a spot of troll hunting?’
Ronny thought about this for a moment and then grinned. He reached into his satchel and produced several layers of warm clothing.
‘I suggest you rug up,’ he told them. ‘November in this part of Russia is going to be cold.’ He waited while the others did the same. As an added touch, Ronny put on a gnome-sized, yellow raincoat and hat.
The group then left Amelia and walked through the hospital and down the stairs to the exit. Once outside, they found themselves in the street. From the outside, the hospital appeared to be just an ordinary building, just a few storeys high, with pastel walls and a red tiled roof.
The weather was awful. It was icy cold and the wind was very strong. Though it was dry just then, it had obviously just been raining and felt as though it would again any moment. The ground was wet with slushy water and ice.
‘We can’t just make a portal here,’ Roberta said, looking around.
The locals all seemed oblivious to the group as they rushed about their business so that they might get out of the miserable weather as soon as possible.
Though none of the werewolves were in wolf form, Ronny was obviously not human. Thankfully, his yellow raincoat and hat hid most of his features. He resembled nothing more than a slightly overweight human child. Sarah had to fight to keep from giggling every time she looked at him. Mel was having similar difficulties. The two girls had to walk behind the rest of the group to hide their faces.
‘Follow me,’ Benjamin instructed. He led them down the cobble-stoned streets until they came to a small alley behind a restaurant. When nobody was looking, he pointed at the wall and created a door-shaped portal. One by one, the group filed through it into a clearing in a forest. Unlike every other time the group had exited a portal, this time they came out into the pouring rain. When everyone was through, the portal disappeared.
‘Neat trick,’ Ronny observed to Benjamin. The little gnome then spread his arms out and looked about, letting the rain fall on him. ‘Not so funny-looking now, am I?’ he asked Sarah and Mel with a tight grin.
Sarah’s uncle winked at the little gnome and gestured at the moist forest around them. ‘Welcome to The Taiga,’ he said. The rain had very little effect on Sarah’s uncle. Even though he was soon quite wet, he seemed not to notice. The others weren’t so blasé. Soon they all donned wet weather gear on top of their warm coats.
‘Pity we’re so early in the season.’ Angela wrinkled her nose at the weather. ‘Snow is so much nicer than slush.’
Sarah peered up through the rain and trees to the smoking peak of the volcano. The thin plume of smoke rose high into the cloudy sky. Rain began to drift down through the forest canopy.
Sarah had never seen a volcano before. ‘Is that it?’
‘Home of Klaus, the fire giant,’ Angela replied with an agreeing nod. ‘Looks like he’s been a bit bad tempered lately. If his mountain is smoking, he’s either caused an eruption, or about to.’
‘We’d better get the tents up,’ Ronny suggested. The strange little gnome looked up at the drizzle falling down from the forest canopy above them. ‘And I don’t advise anyone to start mountain-climbing just yet either. In this rain, that slope will be as slippery as a pixie merchant.’
Ronny hauled his tent out of his satchel and began showing the others how to erect it so they could do the same with theirs. His instructions were supplemented by the tents themselves which would point out every time a tent-peg was hammered in the wrong way or a guy-rope wasn’t pulled tight enough. After about half an hour, the group had assembled four tents. These tents weren’t like the dome-shaped modern nylon ones Sarah saw in catalogues. They were square, thick canvas with pointed roofs and quite sturdy.
Evening seemed to arrive unnaturally early. As Sarah helped Ronny set up the folding tables and chairs for dinner, she found herself quite distracted by the odd sensation of not being the least bit tired so late. In fact, she was so distracted by it, if anyone had asked what she had eaten for dinner that night (Ronny cooked up a lovely dish of stir-fried beef on something he called vampire saffron ric
e), she wouldn’t have been able to tell them.
‘Portal-lag,’ Angela told Sarah with a smile. ‘Your body clock is all out of whack, I’m afraid. It happens when we cross to different time-zones or different worlds.’ She handed the girls each a small flask of the same dark brown rum they’d had back at the hospital. ‘Chinese Fighting Maple rum. Never go camping or to sea without it. Cures seasickness, portal-lag and in icy weather, it’s good for the blood.’
Sarah took her flask nervously. She opened the lid and sniffed it. The strong smell made her blink.
‘Only one sip before bed, girls,’ Angela told them both, though she was looking at Mel quite sternly. ‘I expect those flasks to last at least a week.’
Sarah had no doubt hers would last a lot longer than just a week. She didn’t really like it very much. The warm feeling it had given her was nice enough, but it also made her head feel fuzzy, and that was most definitely not nice. Still, she did as Angela instructed. Before she snuggled down into her sleeping bag, she took a small sip of the strange enchanted rum and tried to go to sleep.
Sarah had never slept in a tent before. The closest she had ever come to a tent was the advertisements in junk mail delivered to her house. In those brochures, there were always smiling, happy families looking like they were enjoying being wrapped up in sleeping bags or huddling near campfires. The activity of camping always looked so comfortable and enjoyable.
Camping out in the moist and near-freezing Russian forest was far from comfortable and the only enjoyable part of it was the novelty of it being new. And, that sensation, Sarah discovered, wore off very quickly. The floor of the tent rustled whenever she moved, her sleeping bag was incredibly constricting and it was cold, even with the warm, tingling feeling she got from the Chinese Fighting Maple rum.
After a few hours of being unable to sleep in her sleeping bag, Sarah gave up. She unzipped her sleeping bag all the way down, opened it up and then folded it over double so that it was roughly square. Then she changed form. Her thick golden coat made the cold far more bearable. She turned around a few times on her folded up sleeping bag and then finally fell asleep with her tail over her nose.