Tangled Magick (18 page)

“Nice to meet you, ma'am.” Poppy curtsied. She rose and turned toward the wardrobe. Rifling through the contents, she pulled out a gown for Huldfrejya.

“Please, call me Hilda,” the princess said. “That's what my friends called me.” Her voice was soft and lilting, just like Maewyn always thought a human princess would sound like.

Mae handed her a clean sheet and helped her rub her skin dry, and then she handed her a clean, though thin, shift and the overdress Poppy had laid out. “I'm sorry, but, there isn't much left for you to wear. You ruined most of it when you were under the spell.”

“I must have been a monster. I felt like a monster.” Hilda shivered.

“You weren't that bad,” Mae said.

Poppy snorted.

Meadow chuckled.

Then they all broke out in laughter.

“What's so funny in there?” Tory called through the door.

“Nothing!” Poppy called back. “We'll be ready in a few minutes.”

Mae pointed to the baggage. “Poppy, find your bag. Dress warmly for the journey home.”

“Home?” Meadow asked.

“Yes,” Mae answered.

“But what about Geindride?” Poppy asked.

“Don't worry, I'll deal with him,” Mae said. She wasn't sure how one dealt with a bad wizard, but she was hoping Aletta was near the castle and would know what to do.

Hilda smiled a sad smile, and her gaze drifted to the flames in the hearth. The unicorn moved close to her and shoved his head under her hand like a dog looking for petting. Huldfrejya absentmindedly petted his silky mane.

Poppy stoked the fire and pushed one of the upholstered chairs close to it. “Come sit by the fire, Your High—um, Hilda. Your hair will dry more quickly. And I'll look for a coat. Surely one of the men's coats will fit you for now.”

“You are too kind,” Hilda said.

Meadow looked longingly at the warm tub full of water. “Do you think I could…I mean, it's been… It's just that I'm… Never mind, it's foolish.” She sighed and turned her head. “I know there will be plenty of time for that later.”

Mae put her hand on Meadow's arm. “Go ahead, we won't tell anyone.”

A grin broke out on Meadow's face. She threw her clothes off and jumped into the tub, attacking the grime on her skin as if it were a scorched pot. Her face began to glow as the deep wrinkles and green tones washed away. The matted hair on the backs of her ears sprang forward and fluffed out, and she began to hum a hopeful tune as she scrubbed and untangled her hair.

Poppy kept digging through the mountain of luggage. Maewyn rummaged through the pile until she found her travel bag. She pulled out her polka-dot leggings, a clean shirt, a jacket, a scarf, a pair of mittens, and a pair of riding breeches with leather patches on the knees. She shoved the mittens in the jacket pocket and then unlaced her boots, prying the wet leather off her feet. It was a good thing Aletta had insisted on packing her an extra pair. Wet, uncomfortable feet wouldn't do for the journey home.

Mae peeled off her filthy striped leggings and tossed them on the floor. She grabbed the sheet the princess had used to dry off and soaked the remaining moisture from between her toes. When she pulled the clean leggings on, toasty warmth from the thick material encased her legs. It was the first time she'd felt warm since they'd arrived in this drafty castle. Then, all of a sudden, the smell of dust filled her nose as the walls violently shook. Mae toppled onto the floor. Poppy grabbed onto a chair. Meadow clenched the sides of the tub in terror.

“Hurry! Get dressed!” Mae ordered.

Meadow scrambled out of the tub as Mae brought her the sheet. The floor shook beneath them again. Window panes shattered as thick vines of ivy sprouted through the glass.

The men outside the chamber banged against the door.

“The castle is going to crumble around us!” Tory yelled to them. “Hurry!”

Mae yanked off the dirty dress she'd been wearing since they'd arrived and shoved the clean shirt on. She pulled the riding pants up and shoved her feet into her dry boots and her arms into her jacket.
Boy
, she thought as she bent to tie the laces,
if there was ever a great time for Callum's shoe-tying spell, it would be now.
The castle walls shuddered again. “We need to get out of here! I fear the only thing holding this castle together was the spell,” Mae said.

Poppy whipped the chamber doors open as Meadow shoved her arms into a thick sweater. As the unicorn rushed out, Tory, Mr. Whiteknoll, and Bailey rushed in, their expressions confused and full of fear.

“The others went with Glenn,” Tory said to Poppy. “They should have the wagon ready.”

“This way!” Mae called, and she pointed to the dungeon stairs. The chamber was beginning to fill with dust as she grabbed the princess' arm and tugged her toward the door.

Hilda didn't budge as the others streamed past.

“What are you doing?” Mae asked. “We need to leave!”

Mae yanked on Hilda's arm again as a large rock tumbled out of the wall, followed by a slip of smaller pebbles. Pulling her wand from her pocket, Mae held it in front of her. “Shine brightly!”

The stairs lit up as Mae and Hilda fled. The unicorn rushed past them on the stairs. Their footsteps were drowned out by the creaks and groans of the castle. Mae splashed through the water and ran through the dungeon, the princess close behind. All the creatures' cages were open except one. Dale stood in front of it, unmoving, staring at the dragon. Mae pointed to the large stable door that was open to the outside. “Go, Hilda, get outside, to the wagon!”

“But where are you going, Maewyn?” the princess asked.

Mae grabbed Huldfrejya's hand and squeezed it. She glanced at Poppy standing in the stable door. Her face was twisted with anxiety. The unicorn bleated urgently. “Just go—take Poppy and the others to safety. I'll follow you soon. I promise.”

The princess nodded as Mae released her hand. She watched Tory reappear in the doorway and grab Poppy's hand. She smiled at him as he tugged her outside just ahead of the princess and the unicorn.

Large stones tumbled around Mae as she laid a hand on Dale's arm.

“I couldn't get up enough courage to let him out.” Dale's lip trembled. “I was too afraid.”

“It's okay, Dale. You go with the others. I'll meet you outside.”

Dale's face burned red, but he nodded and ran for the door. Mae breathed deep. Her hand clenched around her wand. “I don't want to hurt you,” she said to the dragon. Her flute trembled in her pocket.

The beast snorted and shook his head. His nostrils began to glow.

Mae held her free hand out, palm up. Her voice shook as she tried to reason with the dragon. The sound of dirt raining down the crumbling stones made her nerves jangle like a dinner bell. She stepped closer to the cage and her flute vibrated furiously. Why did it want her attention now?

“I just want to let you out of that cage, but I can't do that if you blow fire at me. So, do we have a deal? You keep your fire to yourself, and I'll free you?”

Fire blasted through the bars and singed the ends of Mae's close-cropped hair. The blast threw her on her back and knocked her flute from her pocket. Mae shoved her wand in her pocket, grabbed her flute, and put it to her lips. It worked on pigs; perhaps it would work on dragons? There was only one way to find out.

Mae played without even thinking about what she would play. The sweet notes of the lullaby every hapenny mother sings to her little ones surrounded the dragon. He circled in his cage as if working up a new blast, but as he glared out through the bars again, the hard edge of his stare faded. His pupils grew large and round and his ears drooped. The webbed spikes on his back relaxed, and the glow behind his nostrils dimmed to a soft yellow. Mae stepped forward, and as she continued to play with one hand, she pulled her wand out with the other. She pointed her wand at the lock and took a quick breath, letting the flute fall from her lips. “
Hunigar!
”

The cage door creaked open, and Mae backed away as the dragon uncoiled from the stall.

He was magnificent, as tall as a castle tower and twice as long. No wonder he'd been cranky; besides being imprisoned, there wasn't enough room for him to even stretch a foreleg. With a shaky hand, Mae shoved her flute into her pocket as the dragon shook and stretched, his scales gleaming. He bowed his head to Mae before dashing toward the dungeon doors.

A squall drove through the dungeon as the dragon gathered speed, knocking Mae into a big pile of straw. She stumbled to
her feet, spitting stalks from her teeth and pulling them from her hair. She breathed a sigh of relief to still be in one piece as she scrambled for the door. Little feet pattered all around her. The brownies were streaming out of the castle too.

The air was crisp and stiffened the hair on the backs of her ears. The dawn sky was gray, and her nose twitched at the smell of snow in the air. Pocketing her flute and wand, Mae buttoned her jacket and pulled on her gloves as she joined the group of hapennies gathered around the ponies and the wagon on the lawn. Everyone was there except…Callum!

A very large groan filled the air, like the sound the giant River Weed Starr had made when he visited the Wedge. Mae ran for the edge of the trees where the hapennies were assembled, crouched, and covered her ears as the castle crumbled behind her. Glass cracked and shattered, and rocks were pushed out of the foundation as the walls fell in. Large timbers crashed into each other as smaller stones shot out of the debris like arrows. The stones that made up the tower Callum was held in tumbled to the ground. Only a thin spike of stone remained, supporting a platform of floor that had managed to cling together. The table Callum had been lying upon was gone, but in the middle of what remained of the floor lay what looked like a heap of rags. Callum's robe flapped in the wind. The end of his long beard floated in the air like a kite, but he did not stir.

Mae fell to the grass and cried. Everything she'd done, and Callum was still under Hilda's enchantment. Why wasn't he released from the spell? Perhaps she had taken too long to figure it out. Aletta's voice echoed in her head.
He's not the spring chicken he once was
.

Hilda knelt beside Mae and rubbed her back. “I'm so sorry, Mae. I wasn't myself when I did all those awful things.”

“Leave her be,” Mae's dad said, shooing the princess away.

Mae raised herself from the ground and threw her arms around her dad. She cried into his chest, her warm tears soaking the front of his shirt. He patted her hair. “There, there. You
were clever enough to break the spell on the castle and the princess. You're clever enough to figure this out too.”

“But I don't know what to do,” sobbed Mae. “I don't even know where to start!”

“Then we'll figure it out together.”

“Not now we won't,” Thorain growled. He pointed down the winding road that led to the castle.

L
eif swiveled his ears, straining to hear past the snores and shuffles of the sleeping men. He peered over the fallen mossy log, new wand in hand. Something shifted in the forest beyond their camp. Lumpy shadows emerged from the straight tree trunks. He rubbed his eyes, not certain if they were playing tricks on him in the predawn darkness. “Brynjar, are you—” he whispered.

“Aye, I see them,” the soldier whispered back. He whistled a short tune, and the other soldiers stirred, quietly reaching for their weapons.

The air was so full of anticipation, Leif thought he might snap. Hearing a shuffle behind him, he jerked around, holding his wand out. Large fangs gleamed in the firelight; two black, beady eyes narrowed at him.

“Trolls!” Leif shouted.

Brynjar struck the troll with his blade. He grabbed Leif's arm and pulled him into the dark forest. The soldier shoved him into the hollow of a tree. “Stay there, out of harm's way. I'll come back and get you when we're rid of them.”

“But—” Leif began, but Brynjar had already disappeared.

Leif pulled himself into the hollow, listening to the battle. Men yelled, trolls grunted, swords clanged. He couldn't stand not knowing what was happening. Uncurling from his hiding spot, Leif peered around the tree trunk. He could only make out shadows, but it looked as if the trolls had the upper hand.
What was he doing hiding? He'd fought trolls before! Licking his lips, Leif clenched his wand. He'd heard Mae's spell for turning trolls into stone. Would it work for him?

A roar from behind made Leif turn. Flashing fangs and claws were coming at him. He had no time to wonder if the spell would work. No time for a plan if it didn't. He flicked his wand at the troll. “Troll to coal!”

A zap of yellow magick flew from his wand with the speed of a shooting star. The troll instantly transformed into rock, so quickly he didn't look like a lumpy stone, but a statue.

Cold sweat washed over Leif as he bent to catch his breath. Then he began to laugh as relief replaced the sweats. He ran back to the battle, wand outstretched. The trolls were fighting hard. Brynjar was struggling with a large brute who was swinging an ax. The troll wore a necklace that rattled with the bones of his other kills. Leif aimed for him. “Troll to coal!”

Brynjar fell back with shock as the troll froze in midswing and instantly turned into stone. The ax plopped to the ground. Brynjar bent to retrieve it. “I thought I told you to stay out of harm's way!”

“I thought you could use some help.” Leif grinned at him.

Brynjar nodded. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Leif aimed and fired at another troll looming toward Brynjar. “Troll to coal!”

The troll was immobilized, as the other trolls were beginning to notice that the raid was not going as they had planned. The word “wizard” was spreading through the crowd like wildfire. Wild-eyed trolls glanced around camp as they tried to defend themselves against the soldiers. Leif imagined they were trying to pick out the one who was turning them into statues.