The Salamander Spell

by E. D. Baker

  “But they’re forest creatures, too,” said Haywood. “And you’re supposed to be the champion of all forest creatures, aren’t you?”

  “Not all of them,” cried the Vila. “Just the ones I like. And I don’t like termites!” Grassina stumbled when the woman suddenly let go of her arm. While the Vila strode into the midst of the termites, Haywood motioned for Grassina to join him. She was reaching for his hand when the Vila began waving her arms in a shooing motion. A cloud of termites were flung backward through the air, but it made little difference, for the more the Vila tried to get rid of them, the more they poured out of the surrounding forest.

  The moment the woman turned her back on them, Haywood began pulling Grassina behind him. “Let’s get as far from here as we can before she notices!” he said. Tightening their grip on each other’s hands, they ran, their feet slipping on the carpet of skittering insects.

  “How did you find me?” Grassina asked as she fought to stay upright.

  “When you didn’t return to the island last night, I asked if anyone had seen what happened to you. A little bird told me where to look.”

  Suddenly, a shadow detached itself from the gloom under an ancient tree and stepped into the half-light of the forest directly in their path. “Well, well, now isn’t this cozy?” said a tall, thin man with long dark hair. Grassina thought he looked vaguely familiar. With thick eyebrows that met in the middle and long incisors that glinted when he smiled, he looked threatening enough to make her shiver. “If it isn’t the little princess who stopped by the village looking for her father.”

  As more men emerged from the shadows, Haywood turned to Grassina. “Princess?”

  She shrugged. “I meant to tell you sometime. Then after a while it no longer seemed important.”

  “How could your being a princess not be important?”

  “I just thought—”

  “Excuse me!” interrupted the man. “I was talking, remember?”

  Grassina wanted to tell the stranger that he was being rude, but she thought better of it when she saw the oversized knife he was wielding.

  Shoving Grassina behind him, Haywood said in a commanding voice, “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Grassina thought Haywood was incredibly brave for standing up to the man, but when the stranger started toward them, she noticed the scabbed-over gash on his forehead and the blood encrusting his hair. “Uh, Haywood,” she said, tugging on his sleeve. “That’s not an ordinary man.”

  “I know that,” Haywood said out of the side of his mouth. “He’s a lunatic with bad teeth who is threatening us with a knife.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” said Grassina. “I saw him in the village and again last night. He’s a werewolf, and I bet those other men are, too.”

  “A werewolf ?” said Haywood. “Are you sure?”

  “She’s a smart little thing,” said the leader, “to figure out who we are.”

  “That wizard sent termites after the Vila’s tree!” said a red-headed man with drooping eyelids. “What do you think he’ll do to us, infest our coats with fleas?”

  A lean man with a sly face glanced at his companion. “Then he’s too late as far as you’re concerned. You already have them!” The rest of the men laughed, sounding more like barking dogs than humans.

  “Haywood!” whispered Grassina. “We have to do something.”

  “Give me a minute,” he said. “I’m trying to remember what I read about them.”

  “He wants a minute to think!” said the scruffy man, nudging another in the ribs.

  “Then today’s his lucky day. He’ll have plenty of time to think—while he’s taking his eternal rest! Get ’em, boys!” shouted the leader.

  “Have you thought of anything yet?” Grassina asked as the men crowded closer.

  “Yes, run!” Half pushing, half dragging her, Haywood hustled Grassina to an ancient oak as big around as a small hut. After boosting her into the lower branches, he turned back, ready to defend her with nothing more than a branch he’d picked up off the ground.

  Grassina was digging into her sack for her stones when the men threw themselves at Haywood. He fought valiantly, jabbing and whaling at them with the branch. Grassina was about to throw a stone when the scruffy man grabbed her ankle from behind.

  “Let go of me, you . . .” Kicking and shaking her foot, she held on to a sturdy branch with both hands, but the man was stronger, and she knew she couldn’t hold on for long. He yanked hard, and she half fell out of the tree, her legs dangling in empty air. Grassina shrieked and tried to kick him, but he ducked and wove, avoiding her blows. She was still struggling to hold on when Pippa’s head popped out of Grassina’s sleeve. Hissing softly, the little snake dropped onto the man’s back.

  One more yank and Grassina tumbled to the ground, landing on her side with an oof. The man was bending over her when Pippa slithered down the neck of his tunic. “Hey!” he shouted. Letting go of Grassina, he began patting his clothes. “There’s a snake! Get this—” The next instant he collapsed in a heap and lay on the ground with saliva dribbling from his mouth. He made gasping sounds while his eyes rolled back in his head.

  Grassina scrambled to her feet. “What did you do?” she asked, picking up Pippa.

  The little snake curled around her wrist, tickling her skin with a flicking tongue. “The ssame thing he wass going to do to you,” said Pippa. “I bit him.”

  “Are you venomous?” Grassina asked.

  “Yess,” Pippa said, sounding resigned. “But don’t tell anyone. People tend to look at me differently once they know. You sstill like me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” said Grassina. “Just don’t . . .”

  “You know I’d never bite a friend, but if I’m going to bite more like him, we’ll have to wait until I make new venom. I ussed all that I had jusst then. Ssay, maybe your luck hass changed. It wass good luck that I wass there to help you!”

  The men on the other side of the tree began barking jubilantly, having overwhelmed Haywood and forced him to the ground. Grassina started toward him, but a trio of men blocked her way. With only two stones left, she threw one at the first of her attackers, hitting him squarely on the forehead. He staggered and went down, but was back on his feet a moment later. The second stone struck another man on the shoulder, which just seemed to make him angry. He snarled, his lips curling like a wolf ’s.

  Grassina studied the forest around her; she was surrounded with no place to go and no one who could help. Looking for a weapon of some sort, she snatched a stick off the ground and held it out in front of her. “I wish I had a real weapon,” she said. “Something that would work against werewolves!”

  She nearly dropped the stick when it began to shiver in her hand, but she held on, as mesmerized by the light that came from it as were the men who slowed down to watch. The stick grew until it was the length of a spear, its tip becoming thick and pointed. When it stopped quivering, the glow burst into a silvery radiance that banished the half-light of the forest.

  In the full light of day, the men rushed at Grassina, brandishing knives and daggers. Holding the spear as she’d seen her father’s soldiers do, she hurled it as hard as she could at the man in the lead. Although her aim was off, the spear righted itself and flew directly at him. It struck, the tip slicing deep, the shaft quivering as the man fell. Grassina was defenseless now, but only for a moment as the spear slid back out of the motionless figure, rose into the air, and returned to her hand. She glanced at the fallen man, half dreading, half hoping to see that she had killed him. To her surprise, he had been infused with a silvery glow, not unlike that of the spear.

  As Grassina watched, the man shuddered, and when he lay still again, all signs that he had ever been a werewolf were gone. His long incisors had grown smaller, his bushy brow had shrunk, and even his demeanor had changed. The werewolf part of him was gone, yet when he stirred and sat up, Grassina could see that his human aspect still lived.

 
A twig snapped behind her, and Grassina spun around. The remaining men were circling her, made wary by the spear. Grassina hefted it and took aim, throwing the spear when a man launched himself at her. It struck as truly as if she’d been a seasoned fighter, taking him out of the fray. Then, just as before, the spear flew back to her hand while the injured werewolf became fully human.

  Poised for another attack, Grassina turned and drew back her spear. Having seen what had happened to their comrades, the men who were still on their feet seemed to have lost all interest in her. Even as they slunk away, Grassina hurried to find Haywood and discovered him lying sprawled on the ground, bleeding badly and barely alive.

  “No!” she said, kneeling down beside him. “You can’t die! Haywood, I need you!”

  “He doesn’t have to die,” said a voice. Grassina looked up and saw the Vila.

  “Can you save him?” Grassina asked. “Surely there is something you can do. . . .”

  “You don’t need me,” said the Vila. “You have magic of your own.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “How do you think you got the weapon you needed when you needed it the most?” the Vila asked.

  “You mean you didn’t send me the spear?” Grassina glanced down at the gleaming pole she still clutched in her hand.

  The Vila shook her head. “You did that all on your own. Try a healing spell. It should work.”

  “But I don’t know how!” wailed Grassina.

  “Just as I doubt you knew how to throw a spear. Try it and see. The magic will do the hard part for you.”

  “I don’t know any healing spells.”

  “You must. Haven’t you ever seen an injury healed through magic?”

  “I did fall out of a tree once; my mother healed my broken arm.”

  “Good. Then think back,” said the Vila, laying her cool, dry palm on Grassina’s forehead.

  “I don’t really remember. . . . Wait. Yes, I think that’s it. I’ll have to change it a little, but I think it went something like this.”

  Bones may break and flesh may tear.

  Neither one’s beyond repair.

  Bones and flesh and sinew, too.

  With this spell make them like new.

  Mend the one I love so well.

  Use my love to aid this spell.

  Haywood groaned and moved his head ever so slightly, but otherwise nothing happened. “It didn’t work!” cried Grassina. “Now what am I going to do?”

  “It didn’t work because you don’t love him enough,” said the Vila.

  “But you said yourself that I love him!”

  The Vila sighed. “I’m not saying you don’t, just not enough to make that spell work. However, I can assist with that if you’d like. You helped me when I needed it, and I have yet to repay you. I don’t like feeling obligated to anyone, even someone who rejected the offer of sisterhood.”

  “I’d appreciate anything you can do if it will help Haywood.”

  The Vila nodded. Waving her hands over Grassina and Haywood, she said something in a language Grassina didn’t understand.

  “What was that?”

  “A love enhancement spell. It works only when two people are learning to love each other. Your healing spell should work now.”

  “Thank you,” breathed Grassina. Turning back to Haywood, she was surprised to see that he didn’t look exactly the same as he had before. She thought he was handsomer now and so appealing that her heart ached at how helpless he looked. Eager to see the healing spell’s effect, she repeated it all in one breath, then held her next breath as she waited to see if it would work.

  The forest seemed unnaturally quiet, as if every creature wanted to see what would happen. Haywood took a ragged breath and then another. As color flushed his pale cheeks and his wounds began to heal before her eyes, Grassina took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

  Haywood opened his eyes in response, smiling up at her when he saw her bending close. At first delighted by his smile, Grassina drew back when his incisors began to grow and a feral light filled his eyes.

  “I was afraid of that,” said the Vila. “It looks as if he’s turning into a werewolf now that he isn’t going to die. You don’t have any choice. You’ll have to take your spear and stab him.”

  Grassina was horrified. “I can’t do that!”

  “Of course you can. Think about what happened to those werewolves you struck with the spear. The spell didn’t kill their human side, just the werewolf in them. It will do the same for your young man if you let it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Haywood asked, propping himself on his elbows.

  “Nothing,” said the Vila. “Now hold still while she pokes you. It won’t hurt . . . much. No worse than a thorn prick.”

  Haywood jumped to his feet. “No one’s stabbing me with a spear! You have to be crazy if you think . . .”

  “Will it really work?” Grassina asked the Vila.

  “I’m certain it will,” said the Vila.

  “I’m sorry, love of my life, but I must do this,” Grassina told Haywood.

  Haywood began backing away. “Oh no, you don’t! Whatever she’s told you, my darling, whatever I’ve done, I’m sure we can work this out.”

  “We’ll talk all about it,” said Grassina, “as soon as you’re no longer a werewolf.”

  “I’m not a werewolf,” Haywood growled.

  “Yes, you are. Feel how long your teeth have grown. Your eyebrows meet in the middle now, although they didn’t before. And you’re beginning to smell like a dog.”

  Haywood continued to back away. “I admit I haven’t bathed recently, but that’s no reason to . . .”

  “Now!” shouted the Vila as Haywood tripped over her outstretched foot.

  Grassina stabbed him in the leg as gently as she could. Haywood gasped and began to struggle upright, but the light infused him just as the spear sprang back into Grassina’s hand, and he collapsed again.

  “That should do it,” said the Vila.

  “I thought you were certain it would!”

  “I am . . . fairly certain,” the Vila said as Haywood continued to lie motionless at their feet.

  “Haywood!” Grassina cried, falling on her knees beside him. “My sweet, sweet darling! Light of my life, what have I done?” Bending over him, Grassina kissed him full on the lips.

  “That was very nice, precious love,” Haywood muttered against her mouth, “but can you please get up? You’re kneeling on my hand.”

  Grassina sat back on her heels and clasped her hands together. “Oh, Haywood, you’re all right!”

  “Uh, yes,” he said, flexing his fingers. “Thanks to you, my darling doodlebug.”

  Grassina frowned and turned to the Vila. “We’ve never called each other silly names before. What have you done to us?”

  “Nothing that wouldn’t have happened anyway, given a little time. You were already in love. I just made your love stronger. No spell can create love if there is none to begin with, but because of my spell, you will love each other for the rest of your days as long as you remain in the form you have now. However, if you ever get tired of it, just come see me. I can always turn you into a tree nymph, and then you’d forget all about him.”

  “I’ll never tire of my dearest Haywood,” said Grassina.

  “Then in that case there’s no need to thank me!”

  Fifteen

  They were sitting by the fire in front of Haywood’s half-built hut when Grassina told him about her family. “And so Chartreuse said that she hated me and never wanted to see me again,” she continued. “I left the next morning and don’t ever want to go back.” The last log cracked in two, showering sparks into the night air. A sleepy bird protested from its nest in one of the plum trees. Grassina leaned against Haywood’s leg. “I could stay here with you, heart’s delight. Between your magic and mine, we could be safe and very comfortable. There’s no need for either of us to leave.”

  “That woul
d be a dream come true, my treasure,” Haywood said, caressing her fingers where they lay across his palm. “But I don’t think it’s possible. I need you, and I want you here with me, but I think Greater Greensward needs you more right now.”

  “You’d send me away?” she asked.

  “Not because I want to. I love you, dearest darling. I have ever since you built that terrible hut and were too proud to ask for help. You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met and the most understanding. Nothing would make me happier than to have you here with me for the rest of my life. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be able to say these things to you— you being a princess and me the younger son of a minor noble—but I think you love me as much as I love you—”

  “Oh, I do, light of my life,” breathed Grassina. “I have never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I’ll stay with you and we can use our magic to build a bigger home, by the river perhaps, or—”

  “As much as I want that, it wouldn’t be right. The kingdom needs you, precious one. Go back to your castle and see if your sister has her magic yet and if it’s enough to return things to the way they were. Whatever happens, come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you here.”

  Grassina sighed heavily. “I suppose I have to go. I thought when I ran away that my duty to Greater Greensward was over, but I guess that’s never going to happen. I’ll be responsible to the kingdom forever.”

  “All princesses are born into responsibility. There’s no getting around that.”

  “Then stay safe while I’m gone, light of my life. I’ll leave in the morning and be back as soon as I can. If you need me for any reason . . .”

  “I’ll send a little bird,” said Haywood. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine. The werewolves aren’t likely to follow us here. It’s you I’m worried about. Your mother will still be the same.”

  “Yes, but now she won’t be the only one with magic. Somehow the thought of seeing her isn’t quite so daunting. I just wish I felt the same about seeing Chartreuse.”