by E. D. Baker
“Perhaps Father has some advice,” she murmured, squaring her shoulders as she turned back to the door.
She found King Aldrid exactly where she’d seen him last, drifting silently in the darkened room. He seemed to be as lost as she had felt since her return. “I need your help,” she said, plunking herself down on the only chair. It wobbled on its cracked leg, so she hopped off and sat on the trunk instead. Seeing the stack of parchments on the floor, she remembered her offer to help with his writing and to turn the pages so he could read—yet another thing only she seemed able to do.
Her father’s ghost sighed. “I don’t know how much help I can give you. I can’t even go upstairs.”
“Really?” said Grassina. “You mean you’ve tried?”
King Aldrid nodded. “I think it’s because I have no substance. I can go through walls and doors, but I can’t climb the steps. I pass right through them, too.”
“There must be something you can do.”
“I’m sure there’s a trick to it,” he said, rubbing his ghostly chin. “I’ll just have to keep trying. Now, you said you needed my help?”
Grassina nodded. “It’s the werewolves. They’re coming as close as the castle. Some of our guards are missing.”
“That’s bad,” said the king. “Very bad. But there isn’t anything I can do.”
“I know,” said Grassina. “I’m going to handle it myself. All I want from you is advice on how to get rid of them. What do werewolves fear? Is there anything special I can use to chase them off ?”
“Silver,” he said promptly. “A silver-tipped arrow lodged firmly in the heart should do the trick.”
“But there are so many of them, and I’m just one person. I can’t possibly shoot them all. Isn’t there anything else I can use?”
“Silver-tipped arrows are the most effective weapon that I’ve ever employed, although I suppose if you cut off the werewolves’ heads . . .”
Grassina shuddered. She was willing to fight them if she had to, but she couldn’t imagine cutting off anyone’s head. “Thank you, Father,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Something crashed in a nearby cell, and Olivene shrieked wordlessly. “Has Mother started coming to the dungeon again?” asked Grassina.
“Since yesterday,” said her father’s ghost. “We talked about your magic. She’s very proud of you, although I think she’s being a bit hard on Chartreuse.”
“I’d help Chartreuse if I could,” said Grassina.
“As would I,” said the king. “I just need to find a way out of here.”
“I think I’ll go talk to Mother and see if she has any suggestions about the werewolves,” said Grassina.
“She might,” said the king. “Although I don’t know if you should do anything she says.”
Grassina found her mother standing on top of a pitted green leather trunk, hanging bird skeletons from the ceiling. “Oh, it’s you,” she said when Grassina appeared in the doorway. “Hand me that grackle. No, not that one, the one with the chipped beak. Good. Now, what do you want? I know you didn’t come to watch me redecorate. Speak up. I’m busy. No time for idle chitchat.”
Grassina ducked to avoid the skeleton of a raven. “I’ve come to ask you about werewolves. Do you have anything that I could use to get rid of them?”
Olivene guffawed, opening her mouth wide enough to show the gaps between her blackened, rotting teeth. “You make those werewolves sound like fleas in your underthings,” she finally said. “Any way to get rid of them? Hah! Watch out, that buzzard is coming after you.” Grassina jumped out of the way as one of the larger skeletons clipped her shoulder with its wing. She scowled at the bird, who looked as if it were scowling back. “Werewolves, huh?” Olivene continued. “I’ve never had much to do with them. Why are you asking?”
“I told you about the werewolves in the enchanted forest. They’re still there and are moving this way. Would you like to take care of them, or should I?” Grassina asked, still hoping that she wouldn’t have to be the one to face them.
“Is that a trick question? Because I don’t like trick questions, unless I ask them myself. Can’t you see that I’m busy? If I don’t get all these hung, they’ll fly into a tizzy and get their bones mixed up. Hey, don’t hurt that raven! Do you know how long it took to get it up there?”
The raven skeleton had grabbed hold of Grassina’s braid with its claws and was trying to fly off with it, but it could only circle around the point on the ceiling from which it hung. Grassina took hold of her braid and yanked, pulling it free and bringing three of the bird’s claws with it.
“I know what you need,” Olivene said, snapping her fingers. Hopping off the trunk, she threw the lid open and began rummaging inside. “Here, take these.” Removing a bundle of stiff gray hairs tied with a silver thread, she pulled out two and handed them to Grassina. “They’re werewolf whiskers, good for tracking anything within fifty miles. If you’re going to use them to track werewolves, do it at night. They won’t do you a bit of good otherwise. And this is a witch’s tooth that . . . Wait, that’s mine. So that’s where it went,” she said, jamming the blackened bit of bone into her gums. “Then there’s this . . . No, I might need it. And this . . . Isn’t it a ghastly color? I think I’ll keep that. Ah, here you go. I suppose you could have one of these, seeing that I have an extra.” Olivene handed Grassina a ridged tooth at least two inches long dangling from a golden chain.
“What is it?” Grassina asked, watching it twirl.
Instead of answering, Olivene scuttled across the floor and tossed the basket of lightning bugs to Grassina. “You might as well take these, too. They’re of no use to me, and I’m sick of their infernal din. Now get out! You’ve taken up too much of my time as it is. So long, good riddance, and all those other things you’re supposed to say when an idiot is staring at you big-eyed and jaw-dropped like you are. Shut the door on the way out. I don’t want any more unwelcome visitors taking advantage of my good nature.”
Although her hands were full, Grassina managed to close the door behind her. The visit hadn’t been at all what she’d expected, but then, she didn’t have any idea what to expect when she saw her mother. Having set the angrily buzzing basket on the floor, she tucked the werewolf hairs and the tooth in the sack she carried. At least now she had a few things that she might be able to use, even if her mother had neglected to tell her how.
Seventeen
It was almost dusk when she found Haywood squatting beside the fire, feeding the flames with kindling. A filleted fish lay on a rock beside a pot of water. “I was hoping you’d come back today, my sweet precious, at least to tell me how things were going,” he said after they greeted each other with a kiss. “Would you like some fish stew? It won’t take long.”
“I’m too nervous to eat,” Grassina replied. Then she sat down to tell him what she had done and why she had come back when she did. Haywood nodded but didn’t interrupt, for which Grassina was grateful. Telling him about her family and the werewolves was already hard enough. “But I think I’ll need your help,” she said when she’d finished. “You know things about magic that I don’t. Together we might know enough to make this work.”
Haywood took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I’d go in your stead if I could, but I know my magic isn’t strong enough to defeat a pack of werewolves. And your magic hasn’t been fully tested. I’m not sure if our magic combined—”
“It has to be,” said Grassina. “Someone has to deal with them before the kingdom is overrun. They’re getting bolder all the time. They’ve already been seen near the castle. It won’t be long before they turn one of our own men into a werewolf and get inside the castle, too. Greater Greensward needs us, my darling. There isn’t time to waste. I’ll be leaving as soon as it gets dark. The werewolf whiskers Mother gave me to track them will work only at night.”
“And your father . . .”
“He can’t help us. He doesn�
��t even know how to help himself yet. And my mother isn’t interested, although to be frank, if she were, she might side with the werewolves instead of us. It really is up to you and me.”
Haywood sighed and got to his feet. “Let me get my things. I’ll be ready in just a minute.”
“You mean you’ll come?” asked Grassina, her eyes shining.
“Of course. I would never let you do this by yourself.”
Grassina collected her spear and was leaving the hut that Haywood had finished in her absence when Pippa wriggled through the interwoven branches, landing on the ground in front of her. “What are you doing here?” Grassina asked, startled.
“Making ssure that you don’t leave me behind again. You have a habit of doing that.”
“Sorry. I didn’t dare take you to the castle. It would have been too hard to hide you from my mother.”
“I’ll forgive you thiss time,” said Pippa. “At leasst I had Haywood for company. Did you know that he’ss very good at finding mice?”
“I thought you looked a little plumper.”
“Are you almost ready?” Haywood called from the head of the path. “It’s nearly dark out.”
“We’re both coming,” Grassina replied as she picked up the little snake. “We have one more weapon to take with us. Pippa wants to go, too.”
The stars were shining overhead as they neared the edge of the forest. Grassina reached into her sack, took out the whiskers, and held them up to the light of Haywood’s witches’ ball.
“These are the werewolf whiskers that Mother gave me,” she said. “They don’t look like much, do they?” She turned them over in her hand and bit her lip while she thought. “Do you have any idea what to do with them? Mother forgot to tell me.”
Haywood shrugged. “I’ve never seen anyone do tracking magic. Have you?”
“It wasn’t included in my deportment lessons. I don’t know if Mother ever showed Chartreuse either. I guess I’ll have to make up something again. I hate doing this, but here goes.”
Holding the hairs on the palm of her hand, Grassina thought for a minute, then said,
As a bird flies to its nest
And a fox runs to its den,
Show us where the werewolves are—
The wolves now, not the men.
“I hope it workss,” said Pippa. “That wass really awful.”
“Don’t be so critical,” said Grassina. “I’m new at this, remember?”
“Look,” said Haywood. “They’re changing color.”
At first it was difficult to see in the flickering light of the torch, but it soon became obvious that the whiskers were turning red. Before long they were glowing a brilliant scarlet. Rising into the air, they rotated until they were both pointing in the same direction, and then they took off like two flaming arrows.
“Hurry!” shouted Grassina, sprinting after the whiskers. “I don’t have any more. If we lose sight of those, we’ll never find the werewolves!”
“Too bad you didn’t usse one at a time!” Pippa said into her ear.
“Don’t you think I know that now?” puffed Grassina.
“Save your breath for running,” said Haywood. “Look, they’re over that ravine.”
While Haywood slid down the steep incline, Grassina picked her way more carefully, grabbing hold of branches and crouching when she slipped. Haywood had almost reached the top of the other side when he saw two glowing lines waiting just above his head. He was reaching for Grassina’s hand to help her out of the ravine when the whiskers took off again.
“They went that way!” Grassina shouted, stumbling when Haywood jerked her toward him and started running.
Concentrating on keeping up with the racing red streaks, running without regard to being stealthy or quiet, Grassina and Haywood soon forgot why they were running. They kept going until their lungs burned and they had stabbing pains in their sides. They ran until they thought they couldn’t run anymore, then they stopped thinking and just put one foot in front of the other. When the whiskers finally grew still and hovered over the remains of a fallen log, Grassina and Haywood didn’t notice at first and nearly stumbled past them. In the distance, the full moon rising behind the castle showed them exactly how far they had gone.
“Do you see . . . the werewolves?” Grassina asked, gasping for air.
“Is that . . . them . . . by those rocks?” Haywood whispered back, pointing beyond the last of the trees at a jumble of boulders. A shape moved, jumping onto the tallest rock so that the body was silhouetted against the night sky. Larger than an ordinary wolf, the creature was more muscular as well, as if he were a throwback to a beast of an earlier age that had required greater size and strength to survive.
When the werewolf turned his head and looked directly at them, Grassina whispered, “He knows we’re here! Look, the others are spreading out. They’ll surround us if they can!”
“If we could keep them together somehow . . . ,” said Haywood.
“That gives me an idea,” said Grassina, “but I’m going to need your help.” Unwrapping the blanket she had wrapped around the basket of lightning bugs, she set it on the ground and stepped back.
“What is that?” asked Haywood.
“Some very angry insects,” said Grassina. “You’re good at controlling birds and such. Can you tell these bugs to circle around the werewolves and draw them together?”
“Now that I can do,” said Haywood. Flexing his fingers, he pointed at the basket and murmured something under his breath. “Go!” he said in a louder voice and kicked the basket over.
As the lid fell off, the angrily buzzing swarm of lightning bugs hopped, skittered, crawled, and flew straight at the pack, shedding sparks along the way. The lone werewolf poised atop the pile of boulders leapt to the ground and began padding toward Grassina and Haywood. The first lightning bugs hit him in the chest, shocking him so that he fell back, whining and snapping at his fur. Other werewolves tried to bypass their stricken leader until the bugs flew at their eyes and they, too, were driven back. Bugs hopped into their open mouths and crawled over their paws, shooting sparks and shocking them at each point of contact. With sparks lighting the way, the lightning bugs herded the werewolves back toward the rocks. Even after they’d rounded up the entire pack, the bugs continued to shoot off sparks so that it looked like an invisible fire was burning in the forest.
While Haywood strode purposefully toward the pack of werewolves, Grassina followed with her spear poised to throw, just in case.
“What have you done?” snarled the werewolf who had watched them from the rocks. “Get these things away from us now or I’ll rip out your throat!”
“Isn’t that what you plan to do anyway?” Grassina asked.
“You understood it?” asked Haywood. “What did it say?”
“I suppose you have to have been an animal to understand one,” said Grassina. “Maybe you can try being one someday. The beast was threatening us, that’s all.” Turning back to the werewolf, she pointed her spear at him, saying, “Your threats mean little to me. I can kill you whenever I choose. However, if you promise to leave this kingdom, I’ll let you go on the condition that you never come back.”
“Leave the . . . Have those insects crawled through your ear holes and infested your brain? We’re not making any deals with you! You’re a human and nothing more. When I get past these pests . . .” The werewolf swatted at a lightning bug and yelped when it shocked him. Swiping at his paw with his tongue, the werewolf glared at Grassina. “I’ll find a way to get around these bugs. When I do, I’ll eat your heart while it’s still beating.”
“Grasssina,” Pippa whispered into her ear. “Bad luck. I think that sspell iss wearing off.”
“What spell? You mean . . . Oh!” Although the lightning bugs had formed a flashing, sparking wall only moments before, large gaps were beginning to appear as insects deserted one after the other, called away by the clear night sky and the temptations of the forest floor.
The head of the werewolf pack was still watching them when Grassina whispered to Haywood, telling him about the spell. “That’s one thing about my kind of magic,” replied Haywood as they both backed away. “You can’t go against a creature’s nature if you want the spell to last. They are only insects after all. We can’t really expect them to act like anything else for long.”
“I wish you’d told me this before!” said Grassina. “Can’t you repeat your spell?”
“I could, but it wouldn’t do anything. My spells never work a second time on the same batch of animals.”
Grassina frowned and reached into the leather bag. “I suppose I could try this,” she said, pulling out the tooth on the chain.
“What kind of animal did that come from?” asked Haywood.
“I was hoping that you could tell me.”
Haywood shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but whatever it was it must have been big. Look at the size of that thing.”
“I hope it was mean, too,” said Grassina. “Mean enough to take on a pack of werewolves. But I guess we’re about to find out. Here goes.” Holding the tooth at arm’s length, Grassina said,
Use this tooth to let us see
That which you were meant to be.
When you are what you’ll become,
Chase the wicked werewolves from
This, the kingdom we love so.
Do not tarry, don’t be slow.
While saying the last few words, Grassina tossed the tooth outside the ring of fire and waited. The tooth landed behind a patch of ferns so at first they couldn’t see it. Then the plants began to shake, twitching violently as an oversized manlike head appeared. Covered with a great mane of tawny hair, the creature opened his mouth wide, showing three rows of teeth, identical to the one from which a golden chain still dangled.
As a tawny back arched above the ferns, a musky smell reached Haywood and Grassina. A trencher-sized paw crushed the plants flat, cracking a branch beside them with a sharp report. When the beast shook himself, a tail tipped with a dense ball of bone and fur twitched, thudding as it hit the ground. Turning to face the werewolves, the horse-sized beast roared, sounding more like a trumpet than a living creature.