The Salamander Spell

by E. D. Baker

  Lightning split the sky over the enchanted forest. A few seconds later, thunder rumbled like an angry dragon. “Tell me about yourself,” Haywood said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

  “Now?” Grassina asked.

  “I can’t think of a better time,” he said. “Why don’t I start. I like to read and—”

  Thunder occasionally drowned out his words, yet Haywood kept talking. He told her about his childhood, his sisters and their quests for husbands, his brothers and what they expected to inherit from their father. He didn’t tell any extraordinary stories, yet Grassina found them interesting because they were about him. They also provided a distraction from the ferocity of the storm around them, which she decided was what he probably had in mind.

  For a full two minutes, lightning struck so close that the air smelled acrid and their ears rang from the boom of the thunder. Haywood put both of his arms around her then, and she snuggled into his shoulder, hiding her face until the lightning moved on. She was frightened, but not too frightened to notice that he kissed the top of her head and held her closer.

  Because the dark of the storm blended into the dark of night, they had no idea what time the storm ended or when they finally fell asleep. Waking early the next morning, they found that a large portion of the lean-to had collapsed and that the rest was badly in need of repair. The little hut that Grassina had built was completely destroyed, ending the pretense that she was ever going to fix it.

  “Well,” said Haywood as he surveyed the damage to the lean-to. “I guess it’s time to make a real shelter, something that will stand up under any weather.”

  Retrieving the cooking pot from a bed of mud, Grassina poured out the water that filled it. “How are you going to do that?” she asked.

  “I’ll use magic!” he said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  Grassina was hanging things up to dry when a flood of muskrats arrived, dragging saplings and a few larger branches. When the muskrats left, the birds came, bringing so many reeds and twigs that soon there wasn’t enough room to stand. After a score of robins nearly dropped their deliveries on her, Grassina picked up her basket and left the island. Rather than trying to watch from a distance, she decided that she wanted to do something nice for Haywood. It didn’t take much to persuade Pippa to go with her once the little snake realized that Haywood’s hammering was frightening away her usual prey.

  Recalling some berry bushes that grew beside the lake fronting the enchanted forest, Grassina picked her way across the uneven ground, avoiding sinkholes and mud pits. The bushes were easy to find, the berries more plentiful than she remembered.

  She was unwrapping the little snake from around her wrist when Pippa said, “I don’t know why I had to come with you. It’ss not like I can help you pick berriess.”

  “I told you,” said Grassina. “I need you to keep watch for me. This is where I saw those paw prints. Just look around and tell me if you see anything unusual.”

  “I’d rather take a nap,” grumbled the little snake. “My sstomach iss sso full I can hardly move. I should never have eaten a rat that wass too fat to run.”

  “You slept all the way here,” said Grassina, setting Pippa on the ground.

  “And it wassn’t nearly enough,” said the snake.

  While Pippa slithered off to explore, Grassina began plucking the riper berries, popping a few in her mouth now and then as she moved from one bush to the next. Her basket was close to overflowing when she thought to look for the little snake again, but Pippa was nowhere to be found.

  “Pippa!” Grassina said, inspecting the ground under the bushes. “Pippa!” she called, searching the bank on the swamp side of the lake.

  Unable to find her, she paused for a moment as she tried to decide what to do and was surprised to hear Pippa’s voice carrying across the water. “She’ss not like mosst humanss. Grasssina is actually nice,” said the snake.

  Although she really didn’t want to go anywhere near the enchanted forest, Grassina had no choice if she wanted to collect her friend. Arming herself with two smooth stones, she rounded the pond and stepped from bright sunlight into the deep shade of the forest. She followed Pippa’s voice beneath the ancient trees, certain the whole time that all sorts of creatures were watching her. When she finally spotted the little snake at the base of a towering oak, Pippa appeared to be talking to a young woman dressed all in white. With her pale skin and mass of auburn hair, the woman almost didn’t look real. Grassina took another step and nearly stumbled over a tree root. She glanced down to get her balance; when she looked up again, the little snake was alone.

  “Psst! Pippa!” said Grassina. “What are you doing here? It’s time to—”

  Twigs snapped in the forest. Seconds later, a doe hurtled over a rotting tree stump and darted toward Grassina. Veering to avoid her, it panted, “Hurry! It’s coming!”

  Pippa swung her head around to face Grassina. “It’ss bad luck that you came now,” said the snake. “Lissten to me and don’t assk questionss. Climb that tree and don’t sstop until you can’t go any higher. There iss a beasst on itss way that you don’t want to meet.”

  Grassina stared at her, too astonished to move. “Go!” Pippa said as a pulsating rumble reached Grassina’s ears. Shoving the stones back into her sack, Grassina turned to the gnarled old tree behind her and strained to pull herself onto the lowest branch. Her feet scrabbled against the rough bark, and then she was up, clutching the branch until she could get her legs under her.

  The sound grew louder, becoming the whump, whump of mighty wings. Three deer darted under the tree Grassina was climbing. She needed no encouragement to grab the next branch and the next after that. A buck bounded into sight when she was halfway up the tree. Then a shape as dark as night and the size of three of her father’s biggest horses smashed through the forest, shattering branches as it descended on the unfortunate deer. It was a dragon, dark on dark in the gloom of the forest, its eyes and claws appearing to glitter with a light of their own. The buck leaped again, but the dragon met it in midair, snapping its neck with one bite.

  Grassina wrapped both arms around a sturdy branch and squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming in high-pitched wheezes as she tried not to scream. “That’ss a big one,” whispered Pippa from beside Grassina’s ear. “It musst be a male. The maless sseem to be bigger than the femaless. I came to the foresst after the tree broke your little housse. I’ve sseen dragonss of all ssizes here.”

  Grassina bit her lip and tried not to listen to the crunching of bones and tearing of flesh. She didn’t dare open her mouth for fear of the sounds that might come out.

  “They tear their food apart like that before they sstart eating. You know, I’ve been thinking. My luck iss pretty good. Here I am in the foresst with monssterss all around, but I’m too ssmall for any of them to care about, whereass you’re probably jusst what they’d like. If anybody hass bad luck, I think it’ss you. Look, he’ss almosst finished. He’ll be leaving ssoon.”

  The forest was growing darker when the beast finally abandoned the remains of the deer carcass and flew off, the beat of its wings creating miniature tornadoes that swirled leaves and broken bits of branches in its wake. Grassina fought to stay in the tree, tightening her already fierce grip on the branch. Because her quaking muscles had been locked in one position for so long, she was in no condition to climb down even after the forest grew quiet. Instead, she struggled to reach one of the wider branches where she could sit for a moment. Her arms and legs were still shaking when she leaned back against the trunk, took deep breaths to calm herself, and willed her heart rate to return to normal.

  Grassina was resting on the branch when she heard a sound at the base of the tree. Leaning forward, she glanced down, freezing as a silver body passed below her. It was a wolf, its coat shining in the darkening gloom. As she watched, the wolf raised its head and looked directly at her. For an instant, Grassina could have sworn their eyes met, but it
turned away and went on, sniffing the air as it walked.

  The wolf paused and raised its head. Grassina shrank back against the tree as the beast’s hackles rose, its lips contracted in a fearsome sneer, and a low growl rumbled from its throat. Although she was far enough above the ground that the wolf couldn’t possibly reach her, Grassina pulled herself onto a higher branch before looking down again. The wolf had turned so it was facing away from the tree, back the way it had come. Even from behind, the wolf ’s flattened ears showed its dislike for whatever was approaching.

  Grassina looked past the wolf to the darkness beneath the trees and gasped when she saw a figure there, keeping to the thickest shadows, its belly so low it nearly brushed the ground. Another appeared behind it and another after that until half a dozen indistinct shapes surrounded the wolf. When one passed through a patch of moonlight, Grassina caught her first real glimpse of it and had to press the back of her hand against her mouth so as not to cry out. It was a wolf, yet not a wolf, its body chunkier, its head coarser, its paws broader. Grassina shuddered: it was a werewolf.

  Although she wanted to look away, Grassina found herself unable to stop watching as the largest one detached itself from the shadows and walked stiff-legged toward the real wolf. “The girl is mine,” the werewolf growled.

  “Then come and take her,” snarled the silver wolf, stepping away.

  As the werewolf advanced, the silver wolf waited until they were only a few yards apart before it lunged, landing on the werewolf ’s back, sending them both tumbling across the ground. Snarling, they raked each other with their claws, ripping at ears and faces, throats and backs in a tangled frenzy of fangs. When they separated, blood flowed freely from gashes on the silver wolf ’s neck and shoulders as it stood panting, head hanging, feet splayed. The werewolf was not even winded; the bleeding from its face and throat was not enough to slow the beast as it paced a circle around the silver wolf.

  Although she didn’t know the silver wolf, Grassina knew that she didn’t want the werewolf to win. Opening her sack, she took out a fistful of stones, braced her body with her feet and legs, then hurled the stones one at a time at the werewolf with all the strength she could muster. The first stone hit a glancing blow, making the werewolf snap at its side as if at a biting fly. The second stone hit the werewolf behind the ear. The beast turned its head and was struck on the snout, which made it yelp with pain. Another stone hit it directly between the eyes with such force that its head snapped back and blood oozed in a line across its brow. The werewolf staggered and fell to the ground. When their leader didn’t get up, the rest of the pack stepped out of the shadows, the fur along their spines bristling. As they drew closer, Grassina could hear their deep-throated growling all the way up in her tree.

  Forming a circle around the silver wolf, the werewolves had begun to move in when the lead werewolf groaned and lurched to its feet. It looked groggy and uncoordinated as it shambled unsteadily back the way it had come. The other werewolves stayed in their circle until a sharp bark from their leader made them turn and slink away into the darkness.

  Once the werewolves were gone, the silver wolf heaved a loud sigh, then collapsed in slow motion until it lay sprawled across the ground with its tongue lolling in the dirt.

  “Pippa?” Grassina called softly, but the little snake didn’t answer. With the silver wolf at the base of the tree and no idea how far the werewolves had gone, Grassina was reluctant to climb down. It was dark as well, and a bad time to be on foot in the enchanted forest. Wincing at every little sound, Grassina wedged her body in the tree so that even if she fell asleep, she wouldn’t fall to the ground, then shut her eyes, hoping that it would be morning when she opened them again.

  Fourteen

  Wake up,” a voice whispered into her ear, and Grassina’s eyes flew open. For the second time she woke to find Pippa staring at her from only inches away.

  Grassina squirmed out of the crook in the tree where she’d spent the night. Her muscles were so stiff when she tried to stand that she had to hang on to an overhead branch to haul herself up. “Is the wolf gone?” she asked, remembering why she was in a tree at all.

  “Ssee for yoursself,” said Pippa.

  The little snake twined around her wrist as Grassina peered down through the branches. Instead of the wolf, the beautiful young woman who had been talking to Pippa the day before lay at the foot of the tree. Even in the light of day the woman didn’t look quite real. Grassina rubbed her eyes, afraid that she might be hallucinating.

  She almost fell out of the tree when the woman yawned and sat up. “You shouldn’t be down there!” called Grassina. Dropping from branch to branch without actually falling, she reached the young woman’s side moments later. “Do you know what lives in these woods? You’d better come with me. I’ll take you somewhere you can be safe.” Grassina offered her hand to the woman, who laughed and pushed it away.

  The woman didn’t look very old, although certainly older than Grassina. She laughed again when she saw Grassina’s earnest expression and patted her shoulder as she might a friendly dog. “You really do care what happens to me!” she said, sounding delighted.

  A twig cracked in the forest. For a second, Grassina wondered if the werewolves were coming back.

  “I told you she wass a good persson,” said Pippa.

  “You were right,” said the young woman.

  Crows took off cawing as if an intruder had startled them. Whatever was coming, Grassina thought it seemed to be getting closer.

  “Do you two know each other?” she asked Pippa, feeling oddly betrayed.

  “We’ve met,” said the young woman.

  Grassina looked at her with growing suspicion. “You aren’t Mudine, are you?”

  “By the buds of my home tree, no, I’m not a witch!”

  “She’ss a Vila,” offered Pippa. “She’ss here to protect the foresst and all the creaturess in it.”

  The Vila nodded. “That’s true, and because you chased away that werewolf for me, I’m going to honor you by making you my blood sister.”

  Grassina blinked. She could have sworn she’d seen Haywood’s face peeking through the leaves behind the Vila, but when she looked again, his face was gone.

  “Your what?” she asked. After seeing the wolves trying to tear each other apart the night before, she didn’t think she wanted to be a blood anything.

  “My blood sister. That means you’ll be under my protection and I’ll teach you all sorts of wonderful things. I don’t offer this opportunity to just anyone, but since you helped me last night—”

  “I didn’t help you. I’ve never seen you before!”

  The Vila made a trilling sound that reminded Grassina of a songbird. It occurred to her that the Vila was laughing. “Why, of course you helped me! I’ll admit I didn’t look the way I do now. I looked more like this. . . .” The air around the Vila shimmered and suddenly the young woman was gone, replaced by the silver wolf. The wolf yipped and licked Grassina’s hand, then the air shimmered again and the young woman was back, wearing a smug smile.

  “Get away from her, Grassina,” said Haywood, stepping from behind the tree. “Vili are nothing but trouble, even the ones who claim to be good.”

  The Vila whirled around to face him. “How dare you!” she shouted. “All I’ve done is offer to take care of that girl and teach her what she wants to know. Your snake friend told me that you want to learn all about plants,” she said, turning to Grassina. “I can teach you everything, far more than some sawed-off stump of a wizard can.”

  Grassina blanched when she saw the thunderous look on the Vila’s face. “But I don’t want—”

  “You know who I am?” said Haywood.

  “I know everything that goes on in my forest.” The Vila took a step toward him.

  Grassina darted around the Vila, hoping to get between the two of them.

  “I even know that you won’t make it back alive to that miserable swamp,” said the Vila. “Out of
my way, child,” she told Grassina. “I’m going to see that this young man never taints my forest with his presence again!”

  “No!” said Grassina, flinging up her hands as if to push the Vila away. “You can’t!”

  “Oh, I see how it is. He’s a man, and he’s used his manly influence on you. Don’t worry, I know a cure for that! Come over here,” the Vila said, taking Grassina’s arm in an iron grip and pulling her toward a tree. “I’ll turn you into a tree nymph. Then you can live inside the tree and forget all about men and—”

  “Let go of me!” cried Grassina. “I don’t want to be a tree nymph! I want to be who I am and stay with Haywood!”

  “You aren’t in love with him, are you?” the Vila asked, looking appalled. “Because if you are, there’s no hope for you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll reconsider. I would take care of you and teach you everything you ever wanted to know!”

  “We can take care of ourselves!” Grassina said, struggling against the Vila. “And I’ll learn what I want to know without you. Now let go of me! I mean it. I don’t want to go into any tree!”

  “Just a minute,” said Haywood. “You claim to be the protector of the forest creatures, don’t you, Vila?”

  “Why, yes, I am,” the Vila said, pausing with one hand on the bark of the tree and the other still clutching Grassina’s arm.

  “Then you won’t mind if I invite some of your forest friends to a meal.” Raising his voice so that it rang out through the forest, Haywood said,

  Termites fast and termites slow,

  This is where you’ll want to go.

  Come and have a tasty treat.

  Eat until your meal’s complete.

  Bring your friends and dig right in.

  Hurry so you can begin.

  The Vila’s head whipped around as the smell of sawdust pervaded the forest. Fallen leaves and other debris on the forest floor rose and fell in waves as a horde of termites left whatever they were eating and scurried toward the tree. “No!” the Vila screamed at the insects. “That’s my tree! You can’t eat that!”