Golden Mane, Book One of The Adventures of Sarah Coppernick

by SJB Gilmour

  For two more days, the group camped and waited for the rain to let up. The forest, moist and cool, was also permeated by the most unpleasant smell of sulphurous ash. The stench of rotten eggs was growing stronger as more and more ash drizzled down onto the campsite.

  ‘At least the trolls will have to stay put,’ Ronny remarked as he squinted up through the rain. ‘In this weather, they’re probably having a rough time of it.’

  Angela agreed. ‘They’ll have found shelter somewhere. Caves or hollow trees. They won’t be too hard to find.’

  Benjamin was worried. ‘Angela, if we wait much longer, what scent isn’t washed away will be covered in ash. I’m going up to talk with Klaus. You stay here with Mel, Nathan and Ronald.’

  Angela regarded him seriously. ‘All right, Benjamin,’ she said obediently. ‘But promise me you’ll be careful.’

  Benjamin gave a wink and turned to Sarah. ‘I’ve got a new spell. Wanna give it a go?’

  ‘Benjamin!’ Angela chided. ‘Now is not the time to be experimenting!’

  Sarah was very excited. She hadn’t used many spells so far and here was a chance to try a brand new one.

  ‘Yeah!’ she exclaimed and capered around him, nudging and licking him with unbridled enthusiasm. Buoyed by Sarah’s eagerness, Robert and Roberta also scampered about Benjamin yipping and nudging him until he was nearly knocked sideways.

  ‘Okay!’ Benjamin yelled. I’ll need to stay human for the spell,’ he told them, but you three can stay wolf. I’ll join you when we reach the top.’ He began reciting a short chant using several new words in Magaeic. Then he whirled around himself with his fingers, creating a shimmering portal that surrounded himself, Sarah, Roberta and Robert. Seconds later the three werewolves and one human appeared high up on the mountain slope.

  ‘How’s that?’ Benjamin exclaimed. ‘It worked!’ Then he changed form to join Sarah and the others as a werewolf.

  The chilly air around them stank even more of sulphur. Above, they could see the craggy cone of the volcano, which was now emitting great plumes of thick, sooty smoke. Benjamin led them up past the tree-line for almost two hours until they reached the summit.

  A strong, steady wind blew the smoke away from them but it wasn’t enough to rid them of the foul, nauseating stench of sulphur boiling up from the depths of the crater.

  Benjamin motioned for them to stop. ‘Wait here,’ he advised them. ‘I’m going down there to see if I can talk to old Klaus.’ The silver and black werewolf loped down into the rocky crater and disappeared into the smoke.

  ‘Will he be alright?’ Sarah asked her aunt.

  Roberta sniffed the air deeply with her eyes shut. ‘He’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘There’s no evil in the air here. But,’ she paused to look meaningfully at her husband, Robert, ‘his coat will stink to high heaven, and he’ll be a little grumpy until we get him bathed, I’m afraid.’

  The notion of bathing a werewolf struck Sarah as wrong somehow. She shuddered.

  ‘I know it’s repulsive,’ Robert told her. ‘Your aunt makes me take a bath at least once a year.’

  ‘That’s because you stink, dear,’ Roberta replied, unruffled. ‘No-one likes a stinky wolf.’

  The three wolves laughed and chatted while they waited for Benjamin to return. Finally, as the sun was beginning to set, he emerged from the depths of the smoky crater. His black and silver coat was filthy with yellow ash and soot. His tail, once fine and bushy, was smoking and singed badly. As Roberta had predicted, he was not in a good mood.

  ‘Did you find Klaus?’ Sarah asked him bravely, being the only one who felt confident enough to brave his temper. Unable to help herself, she began licking his muzzle and ears to clean him.

  ‘Ugh,’ she muttered. ‘Uncle, you taste awful.’

  He shook himself, giving off a huge spray of ashy mud. ‘I know,’ he growled to Sarah. ‘I’ll wash later.’ He wagged his tail and nodded to Roberta. ‘I found him alright, the big coward,’ he grumbled. He looked around and back, down into the crater. It gave a long, dull rumble. Rocks and boulders began falling back down into the crater and even more huge plumes of fresh smoke and ash surged upwards.

  ‘We’d better get out of here,’ Benjamin warned them. ‘Old Klaus wasn’t too happy about it, but he told me where to find the troll’s trail. He’s working himself into a rage down there. The trail’s going to be too deep under ash to follow soon.’

  As the pack raced down the mountainside, the rumblings became louder and the ground shook with violent tremors. Distantly in the rumblings, Sarah could hear Klaus yelling and swearing. The ash and soot billowing out of the volcano became thicker and thicker.

  ‘Look!’ yelped Roberta, pointing to the top of the mountain. Fire and burning hot molten rock was starting to spew from the crater. Then, a shimmering portal appeared high above them, very close to the fiery peak. Out of the portal streaked Jimbo, Mel’s firedrake. The molten lava at the crater mouth had an alarming effect on him. He flew, crooning for all he was worth, directly at the molten rock.

  ‘Never mind him!’ Benjamin barked. ‘He’ll be alright. All dragonkind love fire. We don’t. We’re not going to make it like this!’ he declared, and changed into human form. He drew in a deep breath and held his arms out wide.

  ‘Let’s see if that spell works in reverse!’ He then muttered a single-worded spell and thrust his arms out towards Sarah and her aunt and uncle. The air around them shimmered as if they were in a portal and the scenery raced past them. In seconds, they had travelled all the way down the face of the mountain to the relative shelter of the campsite in the green forest, nearly three kilometres below.

  That night after dinner, Benjamin splashed about in an icy creek until his coat was clean again. Grinning, the sopping wet werewolf leaped from the creek and immediately shook himself dry right next to Mel.

  ‘Great,’ Mel grumbled. ‘He takes a bath because he stinks. Now he’s clean and I stink!’

  The next day, they ate a hurried breakfast. Sarah, Benjamin, Roberta and Robert stayed in wolf form, while Mel, Angela and Ronny dressed in their travelling clothes. The mountain was still spewing ash and soot. Ronny fussed about the state of the tents. Overnight so much ash had fallen on them that they were sagging badly from the weight.

  ‘Hurry up, Mason!’ Benjamin growled impatiently. ‘Klaus hasn’t finished with this yet. We have to get to the troll’s trail before it’s gone completely.’ He sniffed disparagingly. ‘And I took a bath last night for nothing,’ he muttered.

  Mel and Angela rushed to help Ronny dismantle the tents. In a few moments, they were all hurriedly stuffed into their satchels. The tents protested loudly that they needed to be stored properly and that leaving them lying about untidily would make them harder to use later.

  Then with a loud yip, Benjamin called the rest of the group.

  ‘Right!’ he declared. ‘Klaus told me he found the troll’s trail near the southernmost part of the mountain. Let’s go!’ He began to lope away through the forest, with Roberta and Robert following suit. As Sarah prepared to follow as well, Nathan emerged. The bookwyrm looked around at the forest nervously.

  ‘Don’t worry, Nathan,’ Robert said reassuringly. ‘No birds will come anywhere near you while we’re here.’

  Nathan sighed in relief. ‘Thank you, Master Robert,’ he said gratefully. He then wriggled around to Sarah. ‘You go ahead, Miss Sarah,’ he told her. ‘I’ll carry the others!’ Just as he had shrunk to the size of pencil to fit into Sarah’s pocket in Neroland, the purple bookwyrm began to grow. At one metre wide, his body was nearly twenty metres long. At three metres wide, Nathan stretched out nearly sixty metres behind them.

  ‘Hop on!’ he instructed when he had stopped growing. Mel, Angela and Ronny hurried to follow his instructions. They clambered onto Nathan’s back and grabbed hold of tufts of his bandana, which had also grown to match his size and was very nearly as thick as a blanket.

  Ash that had been falling from the sky
like gentle snowflakes, had became heavy sods of sooty mud and the air was thick with dark, sulphurous smoke. Sarah bounded away after her aunt and uncles. Nathan, she was surprised to see, wriggled along beside her quite comfortably as they tore through the forest at breakneck speed.

  At first all Sarah could smell was smoke and ash, then after a few moments she could detect other fragrances of the forest. She could smell the trees and the forest floor and even the scents of many creatures which had now moved south to warmer weather. Those creatures who had not migrated, like the occasional rabbit or wild boar, had gone, however. Nothing was going to hang around while Klaus was throwing a giant-sized temper tantrum. The forest was eerily silent.

  Faintly at first, then stronger, her sensitive nose detected a foreign scent under the thick layer of ash on the ground. It smelled like something between dirty gym socks and dead fish – and was very similar to the scent she had smelled on the elevator back at Wolfenvald. She stopped and sat down on the forest floor while ash continued to rain down around her.

  ‘Uncle Benjamin!’ she howled, to contact her beloved uncle. ‘I’ve found our prey’s trail!’

  Nathan came to rest beside her and Mel, Ronny and Angela dismounted. Then Benjamin returned, closely followed by Roberta and Robert. None of them seemed at all impressed with the ash settling on their coats.

  ‘Be thankful it isn’t raining so hard,’ Roberta sniffed.

  As if on cue, a distant rumble of thunder gave the familiar warning that rain was on its way. Benjamin sniffed deeply then nodded. After another thunderclap, this time much closer, his eyes narrowed shrewdly. He turned to Sarah.

  ‘Have you ever smelled troll before?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sarah replied, cocking her head to one side. ‘It smells like the elevator did the other day, and I think I’ve smelled it before then, but I’m not sure where. I can’t put my paw on it.’

  Mel hid a smile at Sarah’s choice of words. Then it began to rain, but not like any rain Sarah had ever seen before. This rain was thick and dirty. The overpowering stench of sulphurous mud filled the air.

  ‘We’d better follow it as far as we can,’ Benjamin warned. ‘This ash-fall’s going to cover everything soon, including us!’

  Once again, they took off, following Sarah’s lead. The scent of the trolls was unmistakeable. She had no trouble following it. After they had raced through the forest for several hours, the storm seemed to be showing no signs of letting up. Instead, it seemed to be getting stronger, as was the scent of the trolls. Fortunately, the rain had lost some of its muddiness and actually seemed to be washing the werewolves’ coats. Nathan, it seemed, was in his element. The muddy ground made a perfect slithering surface and he just rocketed along beside Sarah. Mel, Angela and poor Ronny were not faring so well, however. Their hair and clothes clung to them and lumps of ashy mud stuck to every part of them. Despite their warm clothes, they were also getting very, very cold.

  Angela called the group to a halt near a small babbling brook. ‘This is useless. We can’t outrun this storm.’ She climbed down from Nathan’s back.

  Benjamin, who also looked quite frustrated, suddenly smiled and relaxed. ‘Of course,’ he mused a little mysteriously.

  Mel slid off Nathan and came to rest just beside Sarah. ‘How come every time you get near a troll, it starts to rain?’ she asked her friend grumpily.

  ‘It’s the hex you detected, Benjamin!’ Angela said excitedly.

  ‘It’s only twice, though,’ Mel protested, her teeth chattering. ‘It could be a coincidence.’

  ‘No,’ Benjamin stated firmly. ‘It’s not natural. I can feel it. It’s a hex.’

  Sarah didn’t like the sound of all this. ‘Hex?’ she asked. ‘Are you saying I’m cursed?’

  ‘Hexed,’ Angela corrected. ‘Curses are harmful. Hexes are helpful. There’s a world of difference.’

  The rain began to lessen. Sarah looked around them. ‘Okay,’ she said, feeling a little relieved. ‘If this hex thingy makes a storm when I’m near a troll, and the rain is slowing down, then… ’

  ‘Then they’re getting away!’ Mel finished excitedly, forgetting all about being soaking wet and freezing cold. She jumped back on top of Nathan. ‘Let’s keep going!’

  Wolfenvald had some strong advice about that for Sarah just then. ‘No!’ she protested to the others. ‘It’ll be dark soon. It’s not safe.’

  ‘Sarah’s right,’ Robert growled gravely. ‘If we stop, so will the rain. The trail will remain fresh. We should wait until the sun comes again.’

  Reluctantly, the rest of the group agreed and they made another camp there in the icy Russian forest. Soon they had tents set up again and a small campfire going. Once they had dressed in dry clothes, they hung their wet gear out near the fire to dry. The rain had stopped and the forest smelled fresh and green. All the smoke and ash had been washed away. Far off in the distance, they could still see the glowing peak, giving mute evidence of Klaus’ temper storm.

  A heavenly smell invaded Sarah’s nostrils and she dragged her attention away from the fiery mountain. Angela, who was once again neatly dressed, had a large pot of a spicy stew simmering away next to another large pot full of potatoes. Sarah realised she was absolutely famished.

  ‘Bigos?’ Benjamin asked Angela with a raised eyebrow.

  Angela shrugged. ‘When in Rome,’ she murmured. Then she nodded at the sauce. ‘An old family recipe.’ She closed her eyes and took a deep sniff at the pot. ‘Yup,’ she said, smiling. ‘Dinner!’

  ‘What’s bigos?’ Ronny asked, peering into he pot with professional curiosity.

  ‘It’s actually a Polish dish, not Russian. But, in this weather, it’ll do us good. Pork, sausage, cabbage, lots of garlic and spices.’

  She slopped some onto a plate of potatoes and gave it to him. He took a taste and grinned.

  ‘My compliments, Madame,’ he said with a bow.

  Later, with bellies groaning and limbs complaining from near-exhaustion, they all went to sleep without any trouble at all in their tents in the still quiet of the forest.

  Chapter Ten

  Sarah rose early and looked about the campsite. Only a faint smell of smoke and ash lingered in the morning air. She looked up at the mountain. The peak was a dull grey colour and there was only a light plume of smoke drifting skywards from the crater. Klaus, it seemed, had either regained his temper or had worn himself out. Careful not to wake Nathan, who was still snoring softly, Sarah rummaged through her satchel and found a small mirror. She looked in disgust at the state of her shaggy blonde hair. After a few minutes of quite painful brushing, she gave up and changed form. It was time to eat like a wolf, she decided.

  Without really knowing which direction she should follow, Sarah padded through the still forest. The early winter air was cool and crisp. She easily caught the scent of the trolls they had been pursuing the night before. Satisfied that she could find it again, she went looking for prey. It wasn’t long before she found what she was looking for. With stealth borne only to wolves, Sarah crept up on a brown hare, nervously nibbling at something it had dug up out of the frosty ground.

  When Sarah approached the hare, she realised something incredible - she could read the long-eared rodent’s thoughts! Apart from food, he was also obsessed with females. After a few moments of reading the hare’s mind, Sarah was totally disgusted.

  She paused in revulsion as the hare’s thoughts continued to come to her. His mind was a sewer. Sarah quickly readjusted her thinking about rabbits and hares. There was no way she was going to feel sorry about eating such disgusting creatures.

  ‘Now you understand, eh young cub?’ Benjamin asked in the manner of wolves. He had come up beside her as silently as she had crept up on the hare.

  ‘I had no idea,’ she confessed. ‘Are they all like that?’

  The black and silver werewolf sat down on his haunches and smiled at her. ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘That explains why there are so many rabbits
and why no-one really cares if we eat them. They don’t really have minds, just an insatiable desire to eat and breed.’

  ‘That’s gross.’

  ‘Still, they taste good.’ Her uncle shrugged. ‘Are you going to eat this one? You found it first.’

  Sarah noted Benjamin didn’t refer to the hare as a ‘he’ or a ‘she’. It was an ‘it’. It was prey.

  ‘We’ll share it,’ Sarah replied and crept further forward and quickly pounced upon the unsuspecting hare. Once she had eaten her first kill, Sarah felt a surge of power rush through her entire being. Her blood coursed through her veins with an ecstasy like she had never felt before. She could barely resist the urge to howl with delight.

  Benjamin watched her while he gnawed on his share of the hare. ‘And now you know,’ he observed for the second time that morning. Then the two wolves bounded away in search of more prey. Soon, Roberta and Robert joined them. The small werewolf pack hunted and caught a pair of rabbits and another hare then returned to the campsite, where they drank from the brook. Not knowing whether the brook would be the same as the one she had drank from at Wolfenvald, Sarah bowed her head and thanked it anyway.

  ‘Na zdorovie,’ replied the brook in a watery whisper.

  Surprised, Sarah sat back down on her haunches and peered up at the scrubby Russian pines surrounding them. She cast a thought out to the trees. We hunt the evil creatures that passed through here.

  At first there was nothing but silence. Then, distantly, the trees responded in a thick Russian accent.

  ‘They remain yet within us. They have clad themselves in the garb of humans that our moisture cannot penetrate. That way.’ The wind blew briefly and the trees’ branches swayed gently in the direction of the troll scent. ‘Hunt well, Golden Mane. Those creatures are unwelcome here.’ The forest fell silent again.