Wild Magic (22 page)

But the Piper was setting a punishing pace, despite his wound. He marched on, not stopping for anything. Whenever the hawk came close, he asked the same question: how far? And every time he heard the answer, he frowned and pushed on.

Then they came to a blissful place. The air was sweet with scent. The path was lined with flowers of every color and hue, like crowds waiting for a procession. Above the flowers danced butterflies. Clouds of them; swirls of them. Peacock blue and jasper green; purple with a satin sheen; pancake yellow, midnight ink; sugar white and blushing pink. Marianna was entranced. She paused to watch a beautiful blue one as it unrolled its long tongue down into a golden flower funnel. It drank the sweet nectar and Marianna sighed. She longed to taste it too.

“Marianna! You are lingering!”

Finn had grabbed her roughly by the elbow.

“Yes, I am,” she said, shaking him off. “And why shouldn't I? I want to remember these lovely things. I won't be returning to this forest ever again.”

“Nor I,” said Finn darkly. “Please, we must leave here.” He glanced over his shoulder and then walked on, trusting her to follow.

“You're scared,” said Marianna, catching up to him. “
Really
scared, aren't you? Why? Does something live in this forest?”

“I do not know,” said Finn. “But I do know this: we are not welcome here. Entering the forest is forbidden, and I have done so twice. My presence here will not have gone unnoticed.”

“You think we're being watched?” whispered Marianna.

“I know so. Watched and followed. Can you not feel it?”

Marianna shook her head. Suddenly the day had lost its sparkle. She hurried on, aware now that the forest showed no sign of ending. All around, the trees seemed trapped—held in a perpetual world of shadows, waiting for something for happen.

Then she saw a light moving behind the trees. A strange, unearthly glow that grew brighter as it approached. It leaped onto the path, blocking their way, and the light was so unbearably bright, Marianna had to shield her eyes. But then it faded and she saw a stag. A ghostly silver stag, with magnificent antlers and an ethereal light playing about its body.

The stag stared at Finn with milky eyes. “You have returned.”

“I had no choice,” said Finn, stepping forward. “I have no desire to be here.”

“Yet you
are
here,” said the stag, with a stamp of a shiny hoof. “And you are cured.”

Finn nodded. “I am. But I have suffered.”

“That is true,” said the stag, “and I am content. I have had my revenge. But my master would have you suffer more.”

Finn frowned. “Your master? Who is he?”'

The stag made no reply.

“Why would he have me suffer more? I carried your curse for two hundred and fifty years. Is that not suffering enough?”

“Time means little to my master,” said the stag. “He is so very old.”

“I have repented,” said Finn. “Not a day has gone by without my reproaching myself. But let me say it again—here, before you, before witnesses—I am truly sorry for entering the forest that day and hunting you down.”

“My master knows that. And he agrees: you have paid the price for your folly. But that was then. This is now. And you are here, in the forest, for a second time. You are not welcome, Finn. My master is angry.”

“Then let him show himself !” cried Finn hotly. “I grow tired of these games. You play with me like a cat plays with a mouse. Where is he? Let him show himself !”

“He is here,” said the stag, “all around you, in everything you see. He is the forest, Finn, and you will pay for trespassing.”

And with that, the stag lowered its mighty antlers and charged straight at him.

CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO

Whooo!
The ghostly stag passed right through Finn's body. Finn staggered backward, buffeted by the wind of its passing. But he was unharmed. He watched the stag disappear into the heart of the forest.

“Is it over?” said Jakob. “Have you paid the price?”

Finn shook his head. “I fear not. We must hurry on. Ah! Flyte!”

The hawk descended.

“How far, Flyte?”

“An hour's walking and you'll be out,” said the hawk. “But there's something in the air; I can feel it. A call. A gathering. I can't say any more than that.”

He returned to the sky and Finn started off down the path. The others followed, their faces pale as pastry. Finn's fear was wildly infectious.

Moller caught up with Finn and kept pace. “Will you be able to protect us if anything attacks?” he asked.

“No,” replied Finn. “Magic only happens in here if the forest allows it.” He pulled his pipe from his pocket, put it to his lips and blew. No sound came. “You see? Useless.”

“What's that noise?”

Marianna had stopped dead in her tracks. “Can you hear it?”

The others froze and listened. They could hear it too: a low, insistent drone, coming closer, getting louder.

In a flash of golden feathers, Flyte dropped from the sky.

“SNAPPERBUGS!” he cried. “RUN FOR COVER!”

An enormous black cloud was whizzing down the path toward them. Within seconds, it was directly overhead: a dark, deadly battalion of beetles. Fat black beetles, big as fists, armed with pincers and snapping mandibles. Then the attack began.

Vumm! Vumm-vumm!
They fell like stones, viciously nipping and biting as they found flesh. When the travelers knocked them off, they tumbled to the ground and lay on their backs, angrily kicking their legs till they righted themselves. Then they spread their wings, flew back into the cloud, and attacked again.

Marianna fled to the cover of the trees. She hated bugs and beetles, and these were monstrous things. But Jakob and Moller stood firm and tried to help Finn. They were all getting bitten, but clearly he was the main target. Wherever he went the cloud followed, even when he dived under the trees. Now he was running up and down the path, howling in pain, while Moller tried to bat the snapperbugs away with a stick.

Thood!
Moller hit them full force, but the snapperbugs didn't squish. They were too well armored. They simply sailed through the air, fell to the ground, and picked themselves up.

Stupid creatures
, thought Marianna.
Why don't they
open their wings before they hit the ground? EOW!
Moller was batting them in her direction! A fat beetle fell in her lap and lay there wriggling. It was enormous—all feet and feelers. She leaped up and ran back to the path.

Jakob saw her coming. “Marianna! Do something!” He was holding his staff high, willing it to work, but it wouldn't.

Marianna did the only thing she could think of. She stamped on the nearest snapperbug as it fell to the ground. She twisted her boot, grinding it hard against the earth. There was a sharp crack as the beetle's armor shattered. She whooped and looked for more.

But suddenly the attack was over. The snapperbugs rose into the air as if they had been summoned and sped off, the great cloud weaving through the trees like smoke.

Finn sank to his knees. His whole body was quivering; his eyes were glazed like pools in winter. His neck and hands were bloody with bites. His face was purple and swollen, like an overripe plum.

“Come on,” said Moller, hauling him to his feet. “We're going.”

“I cannot,” said Finn. “I do not have the strength.”

“Then find it! You can't stay here and we're not leaving you.”

“You should save yourselves,” said Finn. “The forest won't let me leave.”

“We'll see about that,” said Moller. “Jakob! Take the other side, that's a good lad.”

With the Piper supported, they moved off down the path.

“Do you think that's it, Papa?”

Jakob had whispered, but there was no need. The Piper was beyond listening.

“I'd like to think so,” said Moller. “But there's an old saying: Bad things come in threes. I fear that was just the beginning.”

CHAPTER
FIFTY-THREE

The travelers journeyed on. Marianna walked ahead of the others, proudly bearing Jakob's staff. She was acting as the eyes and ears of the party, and she was taking the role seriously. If there was danger ahead, their lives might depend upon her seeing it. So far, she had seen nothing alarming. But now she noticed the forest was changing. The broad-leaved oaks and elegant alders were thinning. Ahead lay pines—thousands of them—tall, slender, and silent. It was so dark between them, it could almost be evening.

Marianna paused and scanned the new landscape. She tilted her head like a fox and smiled as she caught herself doing it. She wished her old supersenses remained. She could certainly use them now. As it was, she just had to hope for the best.

She led them on. It was so quiet. No birds or insects. No sounds at all. Just the pad of their boots against the needled floor and the occasional grunt from Finn.

Five minutes passed. Six, seven, eight . . . Nothing had happened. But then Marianna felt the hairs starting to rise on her arms and on the back of her neck. Her breath was shortening. Her eyes were widening, all on their own. Something was shifting in the forest, getting ready to attack.

The trees!
They didn't move, didn't bend, didn't make a sound. They just fired.

Zzoooo! Zzoo-zzoo!
Millions of pine needles flew through the air.

Zzooo! Zzooo! Zzoo-zzoo-zzoo!
Razor sharp and deadly. So many, they couldn't fail to hit.

Aiee!
The needles hit hard and dug in deep like bee stings. Jakob and Moller turned in on Finn, shielding him with their bodies, so most of their needles struck their jackets and fell to the floor. But Marianna wasn't so lucky. She howled and ran, as fast as she could, desperately trying to reach safety, while the needles whistled and whizzed around her. She flailed her arms, swinging them around like windmill sails, but it didn't help. It was like running through a cloud of mosquitoes. She could bat hundreds away, but the few that made it through caused terrible pain.

But she could see safety. Ahead lay a tangled, green wildwood. Sycamores and blackthorn; beeches and brambles. With a sob of relief, she burst out of the nightmarish pines into the warm embrace of the broad leaves.

Marianna threw herself down on a grassy bank, closed her eyes, and felt the
thud
as the others joined her. She sat up. Moller, Jakob, and the Piper were such a tangle of legs and arms, she couldn't see where one ended and the next began. All of them were prickly as hedgehogs. Finn was barely conscious.

“
Owww!
” said Jakob, untangling himself. “
Owww!
I don't understand. Why did the pines shoot at us as well as Finn?”

“We're helping him escape,” said Moller. “The forest hates us all now.”

“Then it's a mean, vicious beast,” said Jakob angrily, wincing as he pulled out needle after needle. “It doesn't understand friendship.”

He turned to Finn and started pulling needles out of the Piper's face. “I don't care what it sends next—I won't leave you. DO YOU HEAR THAT, FOREST? I WON'T LEAVE HIM. I mean it, Mari. I didn't save Finn to lose him to the forest. If it wants him, it'll have to fight me first.”

Above their heads, the leaves rustled, as if a message was passing through the trees.

“Listen,” said Marianna. “The trees are talking to one another.”

“Good,” said Jakob. “That means they heard me.”

Marianna couldn't help smiling. Jakob was so fierce! She wished the people of Hamelin could see him like this. “Crooked Jakob”—that's what they called him.
Ha!
They would see him differently now! They would see he was strong and brave and spirited. Exactly the kind of person you would want by your side when life became difficult.

But the strange thing was, Jakob had always been like that. It had nothing to do with the magic of Elvendale. He had been a hero even as he clumped around town on his crutch. It hadn't been easy for him, Marianna knew. The teasing had hurt. He would hold back the tears until he reached home, but Marianna had seen them. She had watched him struggle to do chores too. Sometimes he returned from the water pump with barely any water in the bucket—the rest had been spilled in the lane. But he insisted on doing his bit to help her.