Tangled Magick (14 page)

“Who would do such a thing?” Thorain asked as he ran a finger over the tortoise's injury.

“Geindride,” Mae answered. “A wicked wizard who's in league with the trolls, I bet.”

“Hey! Lil' sweetmeats!” a troll screeched from across the room. “Your rescue is here.”

Mae sighed and pulled away from the cage.

Thorain clamped a hand on her shoulder. “Be careful, Maewyn.”

Mae nodded and walked toward the stairwell, where Mr. Whiteknoll was waiting for her. “Where's my—” she stopped herself from saying
dad
. “Where's Folkvarus?”

“Folkvarus sent me,” Mr. Whiteknoll said. “Let's go.”

Mae followed the old tailor up the stairs. He seemed to have regained the bounce in his step. As they rose out of the stairwell, he began to hum, but Mae could barely hear it over the noise in the Great Room. Trolls were singing (if that's what you could call it) and banging their goblets on the tabletops. A lot of growls and grunts were mixed in with the singing. The words began to make sense as they floated down the hallway. Mr. Whiteknoll stopped and held a protective hand out to keep Mae behind him.

Fifteen years agone we were losin' the fight,

Until Geindride came and offered a light,

In exchange for a powerful wizard on our sidey,

A princess we'd steal and in a tower we'd hidey,

A spellzy was laid on the castle and then

Ole' Geindride changed her into a troll's best friend.

Sweet Hilda, so pleasants, yet so quick to turny,

She yearns for the things that only trolls yearny,

Disorder and chaos, and the leisurely life.

She forgot about wantin' to be someone's wife,

And her beloved soldier, so fair and so strong,

Has been lookin' for her all these years long.

When travelers are near who are ripey for plunder,

We slip her a potion that's near to a wonder,

More troll than princess the potion does wake

Her inner nasty, and for marauders' sake,

Sweet Hilda becomes a true trolly queen,

And serves up a brew that can't be foreseen,

And sends them off swoonin',

While we take our fill

Of food and drink and booty until

We tie them all up and force them to be

Slaves to our troll queeny and makers of tea.

“Are they going on another raid?” Mae asked. She grabbed Mr. Whiteknoll's hand and he pulled her along.

“I'm afraid so,” he answered. “Geindride has spotted another traveling party and, by the sound of it, the soldier who has been looking for the missing princess for many years.”

Mae's heart raced. Her owl must have found her way to the Wedge! Aletta must have gotten humans to help them. “How much do you know about the Trillium War, Mr. Whiteknoll?”

The old tailor stopped in his tracks and turned to her, whispering fiercely. “How do you know about the Trillium War?”

Mae shrugged. “Callum told me.”

Mr. Whiteknoll nodded. “Yes. Yes, he would have, wouldn't he? By rights, you should know. I fought in the Trillium War. I was younger then. I fought next to humans and hapennies from other villages far away, and wizards too. Arwen and Gilbey were great commanders in the war.”

Mae must've looked shocked, because Mr. Whiteknoll covered his heart with his hand. “It's true! It was a bloody war, with the trolls giving in only after they'd captured the king's daughter. No one knows how it was done. One moment she was in the castle, the next she was gone.”

“There was a wizard on the trolls' side,” Mae said. “Didn't you just hear that in the song? It was Geindride.”

Mr. Whiteknoll pushed his hand through his hair. “That pompy wizard? That's not possible. He's far too young to have fought in the war.”

“He's been making a potion to stay young!” Mae said, piecing things together. “That explains the animals in the
dungeon. Their powers help keep him young and strengthen his magick!”

“Does the troll queen know he's using her castle for such means?”

“He has her enchanted too. And after hearing that song, I'm pretty sure she's the princess that was captured during the war. I think I understand how to break the enchantments, but I must get back to her chamber to do it.”

“I'll get you there, Mae. No doubt about that.” Mr. Whiteknoll stopped at a round tower full of windows. It faced east, and it was the first room of panes she'd seen that weren't broken or covered in tangled ivy. Mr. Whiteknoll pointed to the river that flowed away from the castle. On the bank was a tiny cottage. Thin curls of smoke rose from the chimney. “That's where Arwen and Gilbey are being kept. The queen makes me take food to them every day, but they don't eat much. They are too consumed with trying to untie the knots in a never-ending rope. She promised them she would release them when they finished. It's magicked, but they won't listen to me. They just keep at it. Why would she have them doing something so useless?”

Mae laid her hand on the old tailor's arm. “Perhaps she wanted them out of the way for some reason we don't understand. Don't worry, we'll get them out.”

Mr. Whiteknoll laid a hand over hers. “Thank you, Mae, for saving us all.”

“But I haven't done anything yet. I just have a plan, and who knows if it will even work?”

“Come on, let's get you back to the queen's chamber.” They half-jogged back down the hallway, but instead of walking through the Great Room, they cut through the kitchen and then through a passage under the dais that opened on the other side of the Great Room. Mr. Whiteknoll held the hidden door open and gave Mae a nod. She nodded back and quickly cut through the corner of the Great Room, running down the
hallway. The queen's chamber door whooshed open as Mae approached.

The chamber was dark. No candles burned. No fire was lit. The windows were draped with curtains to keep out the last rays of the setting sun. It was quiet. Too quiet. Mae took out her wand. “Shine brightly,” she whispered.

Her wand lit up and Mae took a hesitant step into the room. Poppy didn't meet her at the door. The bed was empty. Mae crept toward the hearth and the overstuffed chairs. A pair of long feet was propped on the table. Mae raised her gaze. Geindride sat with his fingers tented under his chin. His wand lay in his lap. His steely gaze met hers as the door slammed shut behind her. “Well met, Maewyn Bridgepost.”

L
eif paced nervously in his bedroom as the moon rose over the hill and shone through the windows. The shadows of fingerlike limbs seemed to be pointing to the door. He grabbed his knapsack and slung it over his shoulders. Then he climbed on his perfectly made bed and shoved the window open.

A wicked cold wind rushed in, ruffling Reed's hair. His brother grunted and pulled the covers over his face, burying himself deeper under his quilt. Peck flapped from her perch on Leif's headboard and soared out into the night air. Leif smiled and crawled out the window as quickly as he could, shutting it behind him. He was careful not to step on the spiceberry plants under the window, since his mom liked to cut the twigs and make decorations for Winter's Gluttony, but a few snapped regardless of his care. Burying his nose into the collar of his coat, Leif bustled down the lane toward the Bridgepost farm.

The night air was sharp, freezing the hairs in his nose. He hoped wherever Mae and the others were, they were at least warm. He took a second to pull the earflaps on his hat down and knot the ties under his chin before he pressed onward. A candle flickered in the kitchen window as Leif rounded the bend. He didn't bother to knock on the door but pushed it open quietly and entered the room. The fire in the hearth roared as it swallowed up the push of air that had come in with Leif. Peck alighted on the fireplace mantel, her eyes shining in the low light.

Beau scrambled out from under the chair as Aletta rose, unfolding her legs from beneath her. “Trust Peck; she has great night sight and will keep you safe from any lurking trolls. Make sure you rest, or you won't be able to think straight or have the energy to find Mae. And for ogre's sake, don't yell for River Weed Starr until morning. You don't want any trolls to hear you.”

Beau climbed up Leif's pant leg and jumped up his arm to settle on his shoulder. At least the little squirrel was light, especially compared to Peck.

Aletta held out a sack. Leif's nose twitched—lavender muffins, apples, a bit of sharp cheese. By the weight of the bag, he was guessing it was enough for four days…maybe six if he ate a light breakfast and skipped midnight nibble. He nodded at Aletta as he took the sack. “Trust Peck, get some sleep, call River Weed Starr in the morning. Got it.”

Beau squeaked, echoing the cadence of Leif's words, one claw held up as though he were lecturing the wizard. Leif snickered.

Aletta reached into her pocket and took out three coins. She rubbed them together. “For if you must purchase lodging at the Seven Hills.”

Leif took the coins. They were tarnished and worn from use, but he could see the outline of a pine tree stamped into one side. He flipped a coin over to reveal a rampant bear on the other side. “Human currency?”

Aletta nodded. “Left over from another life. I'm glad it may come in handy after all this time.”

“Thank you, Aletta.” He stuffed the coins in his pants pocket.

“You're welcome,” the wizard said.

“Is that it, then?” Leif shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. He glanced at the map on the table. He was anxious to get going, but something told him Aletta wasn't quite ready for him to leave.

The wizard smoothed her hair from her face. “You'll stick to the plan?”

“Yes…and?” Leif prodded.

“Squeak?” Beau echoed.

“If you find them before me, send me a message.”

Leif grabbed the wizard's hands. “Of course, Aletta. I'll send it with Peck. Now I must get going, and you must get some rest if you are going to recover from the fever.”

Aletta squeezed his hand and then let him go, pushing past him to open the door. She pointed at Beau. “You don't be any trouble, Beau!”

Beau squeaked something that sounded like “I won't” as Leif walked outside, Peck following.

“Go with speed,” Aletta said. “And don't worry! I'll convince your mom to let me get rid of the piskies!”

Leif turned at the top of the rise and waved to the wizard before descending the hill and crossing the bridge. The black raven sentinels guarding the bridge from trolls shone in the moonlight. Their heads turned and their eyes blinked as he crossed. He thought he heard a ruffle of feathers. As he passed the Gelbane tree, he thought of Mae and a sudden pang of loneliness struck him. He had never missed someone so much in his entire life. That pang pushed him to walk a bit faster.

The forest was alive with night noises—the howls of wolves and yips of coyotes, and owl hoots, which Peck would occasionally answer and Beau would shiver at. It was too cold for many other animals to be out. The night was brightly lit by the moon, which streamed into the forest through the spindly fingers of the bare trees and shone on the needles of the conifers. Thankfully, the wind had died down a bit. Leif was deep in the forest before he even thought about trolls. He pushed that fear into the back of his mind and trekked on.

As the dark night began to pale, Peck found a large hollow in a tree and nestled in. Leif shrugged off his knapsack and
groaned. His shoulder muscles had been screaming for the last hour, and he supposed this was as good a spot as any to rest.

At the bottom of the tree was a thick, fallen log covered in bright green reindeer moss. It would block some of the wind. A rocky hill rose up behind the tree. Leif dropped his knapsack and plopped on the soft ground next to the log. He drew in a huge breath and called out, “River Weed Starr! Mae needs your help!”

The tree limbs rattled and scratched against each other as a breeze swept through the forest. Leif pulled his hat down tighter and opened the food sack Aletta had given him. The smell of lavender wafted out as he reached in. Now that he wasn't walking, his belly was protesting the skipped midnight nibble. He bit into a cold muffin and barely savored the sweet taste. His eyelids were heavy as he wearily nibbled on a chunk of cheese, breaking off a piece to share with Beau, who was watching him longingly. Leif curled into the side of the tree and promptly fell asleep. He didn't even feel the little squirrel burrow under his neck.

T
he weak sun woke Leif around midafternoon. It did little to warm the air around him, but at least the air was still. Puffs of white floated around his head from his warm breath. Beau was scuffling near the tree under the fallen leaves. His head popped up when Leif stretched and yawned, and the squirrel held up an acorn as though he'd found gold. Leif chuckled at the squirrel's antics as Beau cracked the acorn against a large rock peeking out from under the piled-up leaves. He wished he could start a fire and make a pot of tea, but as he unrolled the map and checked his progress, it looked as though he'd only covered about half the distance he'd hoped to. Peck hooted sleepily above him, one eye blinking open. She shook her feathers and stretched her wings.

After grabbing an apple and a couple chunks of cheese, Leif slipped the food bag inside his knapsack. Settling the straps over his shoulders, he called to the squirrel. “Let's go, Beau!”

His cheeks packed with the meat of the acorn, Beau hopped over to Leif and scrambled up to settle on his shoulder, wrapping his tail around Leif's neck. Leif reached up and scratched Beau's head. “You make a pretty good scarf.”

The squirrel chittered and grabbed on to the tie of Leif's hat as Leif made his way back to the path. Peck swooped over them, flying farther ahead and then circling back, as though she was scouting the area. Leif ate the apple and cheese chunks as he walked. After swallowing, he yelled into the forest. “River Weed Starr!”