The spit and the stamp were just for emphasis.
So what the werewolf was actually saying was: “For goodness’ sake STAY AWAY from Castle Death!”
The werewolf got more urgent still.
“Reaaghhh cccroooglle sfocccan Burgan!” Stamp! Spit! “Purgan GRUNT WEOORRR, nurgan GRUNT WEEIIROH! GRUNT WEOORRR Creagle Urgh! Pi urglly discottle agly rewooooow peroooooow.”
And what that meant was, “That’s not what I said, you stupid human! ‘Stay away,’ not ‘go to’! STAY AWAY from Castle Death if you want to hang on to your pathetic little human lives!”
And then Lonesome threw his head back and started howling.
“Lonesome’s just becoming a little frustrated because he thinks we should be getting a move on,” said Xar. Xar patted the werewolf kindly on the paw. “Don’t worry, Lonesome, we’re going there. We’re going there as fast as we can…”
“I think we should go too,” said Wish decidedly.
“Whaaaaaaaat????” said Bodkin.
8. Following the Sweet Track
But you promised your mother!” said Bodkin in an agonized sort of way. “You said you’d go back home straightaway! This isn’t our problem!”
“It IS our problem,” said Wish. “We ALL let the Kingwitch out of the stone, and Xar is our friend, so we have to help him. We can’t just sit behind the Wall twiddling our thumbs while Xar goes through all this on his own.”
“I have to agree with Bodkin the bodyguard,” said Caliburn. “That’s a REALLY, REALLY bad idea! Your type of Magic is very dangerous, Wish… and the Witches WANT that Magic. On the other side of the Wall, the Witches can’t get at you, but over here…”
“You need our help!” argued Wish. “The spell talks about how you should ‘stir the ingredients with a Living Spoon,’ and I’m the one who has the living spoon!”
The Enchanted Spoon, delighted to be playing such an important role, gave a small, proud bow to the rest of the company.
“You should both go back to your parents!” moaned Caliburn to Xar and Wish. “I know they’re a little unreasonable, but if you explain everything to them, maybe they could help you. This is a bigger problem than the two of you can deal with… MUCH bigger… MUCH more dangerous. This is a Longstepper High-Walker GIANT of a problem!”
“All right, Crusher, what do YOU think?” Wish shouted up to Xar’s giant.
Crusher was picking leaves from the topmost branches of the trees and eating them.
He put his face down a little closer, and you could see that it was covered with wrinkles and laughter lines like the wandering paths on an old map, and his eyes were kind and wise.
“I was thinking,” said Crusher dreamily (speaking v-e-r-y slowly, for giants operate in a different timescale from everyone else), “about LANGUAGE and how in English two negatives make a positive, but in spriteish, a double negative is still a negative. However, there is NO language in which two positives make a negative…”
“Yeah, right, like THAT’S the problem,” said Xar sarcastically.
“I hadn’t thought of that!” said Crusher in gentle surprise, but delighted that Xar was engaging with his mental processes. “You’re correct, Xar. ‘Yeah, right’ IS a statement in English where two positives make a negative…”
Crusher was a wonderful giant companion, but he could sometimes be on a different planet from everyone else.
“That wasn’t what I meant!” said Xar, in exasperation. “Stop thinking Big Thoughts, Crusher! The real problem is, should Wish come with us or go back to her scary mother?”
“Oh!” said Crusher, even more thoughtfully.
He paused for an impressively long time, and then said, “Well, Wish should come with us, because I like her.”
Strangely enough, it was this simple statement that changed Caliburn’s mind.
“All right!” he said with a sigh. “I suppose this is all such a disaster that it doesn’t really matter WHAT we do, as long as we’re with our friends and we do it TOGETHER.
“And as long as everyone promises that we will take breaks for lessons along the way,” he went on. “I don’t want any of you getting behind in your studies! You three need all the education you can get.”
They looked up the way to Castle Death in the maps section of the Spelling Book, which very helpfully lit up the various routes across the wildwoods with different colors of sprite dust. Purple dust was a warning to the traveler to be careful, red dust meant exceptional danger, and yellow dust marked the safer passages.
Castle Death, on the edge of the Witch Mountains, was across a land to the west called the Slodger Territories, a vast, boglike desert that stretched for miles in every direction.
And the Slodger Territories were dangerous, for Grindylows and Greenteeth lived in those marshes, strange, part see-through creatures, with huge sad eyes, who reached out skinny arms and dragged you down under the muddy water, with little satisfying belches of the bog.
The only safe way, marked in yellow, across the Slodger Territories was the Sweet Track, an ancient road like a long, winding bridge, built and blessed by Wizards long ago. You can’t be attacked on the Sweet Track, for it was guarded by a very ancient power and spells too old to unravel.
They didn’t want to use Magic to get there, for Magic was tiring, and Wish was already so exhausted by the effort of making the door fly and keeping it in the air by her sheer will, that she could feel every muscle in her body aching. Also, the use of Magic would make it easier for Witches or other bad things to trace them.
The broken door had smashed to pieces on landing, but they might need it later, so it was the sprites who put it back together again with their wands.
A fairy making a spell is a little like someone taking a golf shot, or a baseball swing in another time, another place. It’s not just a matter of pointing the wand in a careless fashion. The spell is thrown up in the air, the wand goes right behind the head and then smashes the spell toward the thing that it is wanting to enchant, preferably, for full power, with a great deal of follow-through.
ZING!!!! The spells spun through the air, singing the word “reconstruct,” and scoring a direct hit on the smashed door, and the pieces instantly sorted themselves out, organizing themselves swiftly on the floor like a puzzle rearranging itself, at first forming a ridiculous pattern that didn’t look like a door at all, before whizzing back together again magically in the right place, as if magnetically attracted to one another.
Crusher put the Enchanted Door in his pocket, and Xar, Wish, and Bodkin climbed aboard the snowcats’ backs, and the giant slowly walked his way through the holloways to the beginning of the Slodger Territories, the wolves and the snowcats running by his side, the sprites and Caliburn flying overhead.
After six hours of walking, they reached the famous bridge, beginning in the woods itself, and then stretching way, way into the distance across the marshes, like the coils of an enormous snake.
They decided to camp on the bridge of the Sweet Track for the night.
“And we should lay the campfire on the bridge itself,” said Caliburn. “For once it gets dark, that is the only place where we will be truly safe. What is the best wood for a campfire that might put off Greenteeth? Bodkin? Wish?”
Bodkin and Wish had absolutely not the foggiest of an idea. A Warrior education tended to focus on maths-work, and letter-work, and sword-work, and farming skills. Wood-work was not really part of anything they knew.
“Goodness gracious!” said Caliburn, very shocked. “Don’t they teach you anything over there in iron Warrior fort? This is elementary stuff. How do they expect you to survive in the forest if you don’t know that?”
“I’s know! I’s know!” said Squeezjoos. “Alder or rowan is for protection… and hawthorn makes a nice hot fire…”
So Xar and Wish and Bodkin gathered alder wood from the forest, and then they arranged a little ring of stones to put the wood on to make their campfire.
“Let me practice lighti
ng it with staff-Magic!” said Xar.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” said Caliburn hastily.
“I have to practice controlling the Magic! And you were the one who said we should be doing lessons!” said Xar. He looked up the spell in the Spelling Book and then held out his arm with the Witch-stain on it, his father’s yew spelling staff grasped firmly in that hand.
“Let the Magic come out slowly,” advised Caliburn, “in a controlled and focused manner… Think gentle, calm, happy thoughts… Be patient…”
But nothing happened. And Xar was not a patient person.
He went red in the face with exasperation. He shook the staff crossly. “Why isn’t it working?”
“Oh, I’ve been looking up about spelling staffs. I think you might be holding the staff at the wrong end—you hold it like this,” said Wish, helpfully putting her hand on the staff to show him the grip she had read about in the Spelling Book.
And the moment that Wish put her hand on it as well…
BOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!! The Magic came screaming out of the staff with such force that the little campfire of alder and hawthorn twigs EXPLODED, and Wish and Xar and Bodkin and the wolves and the snowcats and the werewolf were all blown off their feet by the force of the explosion, and into the bog.
“Don’t get discouraged, everyone!” announced Caliburn, as they all staggered muddily to their feet, amid a strong smell of burning feathers and singed-fur-of-werewolf. “It can take quite some TIME to learn how to control Magic.”
The explosion had blasted a great big hole in the bridge of the Sweet Track, where the ancient timbers, which had lain there quietly and peacefully for so many centuries, had been smashed in two, and now smoldered ominously with little flickering green flames at the blackened edges.
“Oh dear, was that me?” said Wish apologetically. “I’m so sorry. I’ve always been a bit clumsy…”
“No, no… it could happen to anyone!” said Caliburn, with a nervous glance at Wish, for the power that protected the Sweet Track was a very ancient power indeed, and the bridge really ought to have remained intact whatever spells were thrown at it. He had never heard of any Magic, past, present, or future, that could have an effect on the Sweet Track.
It didn’t seem the best of omens for the start of their expedition.
They regathered wood and relaid the fire a bit farther down the bridge, and Bodkin lit it by the Warrior method of using a little iron fire striker against flint, which deeply impressed the sprites. Less spectacular than Xar’s way, but more effective.
The sprites then blew out the fire, in order to show off to Bodkin that they could relight it with their sprite-breath, in all sorts of beautiful colors—yellow, red, green, blue.
Wish tore up the note she wore around her neck saying “I am a Fule” and put it on the fire, and the note burned happily, with rainbow brightness.
And then they made a delicious nettle stew. Crusher gathered the nettles, stuffing his pockets with handfuls and handfuls of them, for they would need food for the journey ahead, and not much food was to be found in the Slodger Territories. Wish and the sprites found water and Bodkin did the cooking. The werewolf, thoroughly overexcited by his newfound freedom in the wildwoods, returned from his own hunting expedition with an entire mouthful of worms, which he deposited triumphantly in Wish’s lap as a helpful addition to the stew. (The werewolf seemed to have taken a bit of a shine to Wish.)
“That’s a LOVELY idea, Lonesome!” said Wish tactfully, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “But maybe you could have those on the side or as a starter? I think Bodkin may be allergic to worms, aren’t you, Bodkin?”
“Definitely allergic to worms,” said Bodkin firmly.
Xar wanted to try one, but Caliburn wouldn’t let him.
The Enchanted Spoon stirred the stew with such enthusiasm that he turned it into a positive whirlpool, and on a couple of occasions the spoon very nearly fell in and had to be rescued by Xar or Bodkin or Wish.
Bodkin announced that the stew was ready, and the werewolf leaped up and thrust his entire head into the saucepan and began noisily slurping. Xar pulled him out, and Caliburn explained to the rather crestfallen werewolf about manners, while the sprites cartwheeled through the air in fits of giggles.
Xar had managed to steal a saucepan while he was on the run, but he hadn’t gotten any plates, which was fine, because they just ate off large leaves.
And I don’t know whether it was the cold night air and the adventure of the day or the way that the Enchanted Spoon stirred that stew, but it was the most delicious stew that anyone had ever tasted.
That was a happy, happy evening. Even Bodkin was happy. He couldn’t quite think why. He had lost most of his armor, which should have left him more anxious, but somehow he felt lighter and braver. At least he could bend over.
He joined in with the songs around the campfire.
The moon came up over the marshes, a big round full one, and the werewolf howled at it, and Xar joined in. “URR URR URRRRR!”
“Is it just me,” whispered Bodkin to Wish, “or is that werewolf not a very good influence on Xar?”
“Give the werewolf a chance,” said Wish. “He just hasn’t been around people very much…”
Eventually they fell asleep on the boards of the Sweet Track, and even though the air was bitterly cold, they were all snuggled around with the wolves and the snowcats and the bear, and their shaggy coats kept them warm. The smoke from the fire curled gently upward, constantly changing color—blue, red, orange, white.
Crusher stayed awake, watching out for Witches and other bad things. He sat cross-legged in the bog, humming and singing very softly to himself.
Much later, Wish woke up.
“Having trouble sleeping, little one?” said the giant, stopping singing for a moment and bending down to look at her.
“I’m worrying about going to Castle Death… and the Witches…” Wish shivered. “How can you not worry, Crusher?”
The giant laughed. “What I generally find is that if there is some GIANT problem in the world some GIANT answer turns up just in time to solve it.”
The raven, who was also awake, harrumphed a little, but he did admit, “That IS the lesson of history.”
“Worrying won’t help it turn up any sooner. And look!” continued the giant. “If you waste your time worrying, how will you have a moment to see how beautiful the world is?”
His giant fingers closed around Wish, and gently he carried her up, up, up into the air. Wish had a heart-stopping moment of excitement to find herself looking DOWN on the world rather than UP at it. Crusher put her into his pocket and she peered over its rim, the wind blowing her hair back. From here in the moonlight she could see for miles and miles across the wasteland, and way, way in the distance the misty outlines of the Witch Mountains. Somewhere out there was Castle Death… but from the safety of the giant’s pocket, all she could think of was how calm it was, how still, with the moon above the marshes and the wind blowing steadily.
The giant began to sing.
“A GIANT heart
Needs a GIANT life!
GIANT arms
Can hold a world!”
Every time he sang the word “GIANT!” he threw out his arms wide and Wish bounced around unsteadily in his pocket, giggling.
“Let me lead a GIANT’S life!
No LITTLE steps, no holding back!
A GIANT way, a GIANT’S track!
Let my mistakes
Be GIANT ones!
For I can’t live in LITTLE worlds!
I need the space to run my fill
I need to jump from hill to hill
And if you take my woods from me
I’ll wander out into the sea
And try to find another world
So I can live a GIANT life!”
And down on the Sweet Track, the sound of the giant’s singing woke Xar and Bodkin, and the sprites, and it was so joyful it really put heart into the littl
e party. The werewolf even joined in with his OWN song, which I have translated here, because otherwise it sounds mostly like howling.
The Moon and I
(The Werewolf’s Song)
Me and the moon
The moon and me
When all the world gives up on me
When everyone thinks bad about me
I still have the moon
It’s me and the moon
It’s always the moon and me
My bad wolf heart wants what it wants
So I have to keep running… Keep running…
Can’t stop in case I bite someone
Keep running… Keep running…
I thought I was good, and then I looked down
My shaggy coat, my wolfy paws,
I’m bad as a snake, and meaner than grit,
Don’t try and stop me, ’cause you will get bit
Let me keep running…
I’m running for the moon
Up to the moon where I can be good
When all the world gives up on me
When everyone thinks bad about me
I still have the moon
It’s me and the moon
Mostly it’s me and the moon
Every now and then the werewolf would break off to howl: “Oooooww ooow OOOOOOOOWW!”
And Wish and Bodkin joined in with the Warrior War Song: “NO FEAR! That’s the Warrior’s marching song! NO FEAR!” While Xar and the sprites sang the Magic Lament: “Once we were Wizards, wandering free, in roads of sky and paths of sea…”
“Let me lead a GIANT’S life!” sang Crusher.
“Mostly it’s me and the moon!” sang Lonesome. “Ooww ooow OOOOOW! Ooooow ooow OOOOOOOOOWWWW!”
Twice Magic Page 8