The Salamander Spell (21 page)

Sixteen

G
rassina sat on the edge of her bed staring at the wall across from her. She hated to admit that Chartreuse was right, but it looked like this time she was. It hadn’t occurred to Grassina until her sister mentioned it that she might have earned the Green Witch’s ring if her magic had been strong enough. With the ring on her finger, she would know that she was capable of protecting the kingdom however necessary. Without the ring, Grassina wasn’t sure that she could protect much of anything.

After Chartreuse’s tirade, Grassina had fled to her room, hoping that even if the ring wasn’t on her finger, the tapestry might have appeared on her wall. It hadn’t been there, of course; she hadn’t really expected that it would be. Now it was even clearer that there still was no Green Witch to protect Greater Greensward.

It had been only one day since she’d returned to the castle and it already felt like an eternity. Nothing was the way it had been. Her mother was making Chartreuse do all the chores. Chartreuse hadn’t spoken a word to Grassina since they’d met outside the dungeon door, which was probably just as well.

It didn’t help that Grassina missed Haywood dreadfully and thought about him all the time, or that worrying about the ring had kept her from sleeping most of the night. All the next day, she’d drifted through the castle, unsettled and unsure about what she should be doing. By late afternoon, she’d once again returned to her room to stare at the empty wall.

Grassina was still sitting on her bed when she heard someone sobbing. Opening her door, she peeked out and found Lettie, the scullery maid, crying. “What’s wrong?” Grassina asked.

Lettie’s face was even redder than usual, and her cheeks were streaked with tears. “Oh, Your Highness,” she wailed, “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I don’t know who else to turn to. They say you helped that man from Darby-in-the-Woods, so I was hoping you could help me, too.”

“Are you having a problem with werewolves?” asked Grassina.

“Yes! Well, not me exactly. My Basil is a soldier. He was on patrol last night, and he went missing along with some of his friends. He told me he’d be safe enough— they weren’t going beyond sight of the castle—but he never came back, and I think the werewolves got him! What am I to do, Your Highness? He was just about to propose to me, I know he was!”

“I wish I could help, but I don’t know what I could do. I’m not the Green Witch,” said Grassina, holding up her ringless hand.

“And your mother isn’t either! We’ve all seen that she’s lost the ring, and everyone knows that Princess Chartreuse hasn’t a magic bone in her body. Everyone’s saying that it’s you who has the magic now, so I thought . . .”

“I’m sorry, I’m not the one to do this. You’ll have to find someone else,” Grassina said, pulling the door closed behind her.

Turning toward her bed, Grassina paused, her hand still on the latch. She could hear Lettie sobbing as she retreated down the corridor, and Grassina couldn’t blame her. There wasn’t anyone else, and everyone knew it. Ever since she’d faced the werewolves in the forest, she’d been hoping she’d never see them again. She’d even harbored the unlikely thought that they could have left altogether, scared off by the power of her spear. However, deep down inside she’d known this wasn’t true; it was the reason she’d been awake most of the night. Ridding the kingdom of the werewolves was going to be up to her, for even her small bit of magic was more than anyone else who cared seemed to have.

“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

I
t 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.”