Heart of the Staff - Complete Series

by Carol Marrs Phipps

  “So, if we find Myrtlebell, we'll find the Heart. That's what.”

  “You just might have something there,” said Demonica, sitting straight upright to look right at Spitemorta. This Myrtlebell, has she magic?”

  “Not a whit.”

  “Then we track her down,” said Demonica with a snarl.

  “Absolutely,” said Spitemorta as her eyes drooped shut. “Right after we get some sleep.”

  ***

  Still carrying Edward on his shoulders, Fuzz led Myrtlebell as quickly as she could manage to the far end of a huge wooded dell, closed at both ends. In the middle of the dell was a long, narrow clearing filled with brush and sedges growing out of a dark spongy sod. Not a bit of wind stirred, and though the nights had been getting quite cool, the midday sun in the cloudless sky was uncomfortably hot for traveling out of breath. A sparrow with a black bib and a white crown called from high in a willow before dropping like a shot and winging away over the tops of the sedges. A chat scolded. Edward was hard at work springing aside branches and twigs to help them see. Myrtlebell's flaxen hair was plastered to the sides of her face with her sweat. No one spoke. From time to time, Fuzz would stop to listen above Myrtlebell's breathing. In time they came back into timber. A cuckoo called. The land began to rise steeply as Fuzz led them straight up the slope. A parliament of crows far above finished a rattling debate amongst themselves, exploding into a flurry of caws as they took to the air.

  Ahead rose a sheer rock prominence. Here he stopped climbing and led them aside through a thick stand of trees and candied heath to a completely hidden rock overhang with a cavity running back several rods. “Well it isn't home,” he said, “but it'll keep the rain off and keep us from being spotted from below or from above.”

  “You think Spitemorta rides around on a broomstick the way you said her mother did?” said Myrtlebell as she found a place to sit.

  “I have no way of knowing, of course,” he said as he gently laid the soundly sleeping Master Edward across her lap, “but I do know that she took Ugleeuh's broom and vanished with it before anyone had the wits to stop her, and it would only be prudent of us to consider the possibility that she might.”

  “I quite agree. Spitemorta is truly a nasty piece of work, Fuzz. Even as a child she was endlessly doing hateful things to people. You could tell. She truly enjoyed watching the pain she inflicted on others.” She paused to admire her sleeping son. “I had my faults, too. I was self-centered and snotty. Thought I was better than some...” she sighed, “better than a shameful lot of people. And I loved being in charge, even if I stepped on people to have it that way, but I never made a sport of causing pain like Spitemorta. I'm not sure she's entirely sane.”

  Fuzz sat down heavily. “I've heard Rose and Lukus say much the same things about her,” he said, sighing as he stretched out his legs.

  “As would anyone who knows her at all. Guess what she did at the tender age of twelve? She'd had a terrible row with her governess, I don't remember what about, but she decided she'd have some fun, making the old girl pay for yelling at her. She was the sweetest little old lady who had no family at all, just her cat. She talked to that cat just like it was a child and it meant more to her than anything. Anyway, Spitemorta caught the cat and killed it. Then for good measure, she dressed it and took it to one of the cooks in Castle Goll, telling her that it was a rabbit one of the guards had shot, and as he had no wife, she wanted it cooked for him. Well, the cook was as obliging as she was thick, so she actually cooked it. When the cat was cooked, Spitemorta took it to her governess and told her she had brought her a meal to make up for her awful behavior. The old lady was touched and ate as much of the 'rabbit' as she could.

  “When she missed her cat and started searching, a little girl said she thought Spitemorta had been playing with a cat that morning. She pulled Spitemorta aside and asked her if she had seen her cat. Spitemorta went to laughing and called her an old witch for having just eaten it for supper. The governess vanished from the castle, certain enough, but there were all kinds of rumors about what else happened. Some say she fled the country. Some even say she killed herself. No matter what really happened to the old lady, Spitemorta was certainly evil for a twelve year old.”

  “Whew! That's a horrible tale, Myrtlebell,” said Fuzz. “If you have any more like that, please, I don't want to hear them. And you know what? I grew up with Spitemorta's father. In fact, he was my best friend. Never could you find a better, kinder soul. I am right grateful that he never had to know that he'd sired such an evil child.”

  “You think Spitemorta and her companion are following us?” she said, as she carefully eased herself from under Edward and covered him with her cloak. She brushed aside a stray curl from his forehead, then looked up at Fuzz, who obviously had more to say.

  “The last word I got from Razzmorten was that the combined governments of Goll and Loxmere had a reward out for your capture or information leading to your capture,” he said, rearing up onto his hind legs to begin pacing. “If Spitemorta is actually out after you and has gotten to the cave, there's easily enough evidence there to tell her that she's on the right track. However, I find it right odd that she would be out after you, rather than her soldiers.”

  “That's not much comfort, Fuzz.”

  “I know, and I'm sorry, but let's think about this for a minute. Why would Spitemorta, ruling queen of two countries, take the time to personally hunt down her missing mother-in-law who was being sought on the trumped-up charge of murdering her husband, the late King of Loxmere? You've been missing for five years, after all. You should be completely out of the picture. Unless James or Spitemorta were suddenly being accused of his murder, why go to the trouble?”

  “But what other reason could she have for being here?” said Myrtlebell as she sat down and drew up her knees. “She showed up at Ugleeuh's cabin, where Edward and Iwere until you graciously took us in, and then at your den. I mean, it's not like you have something incredibly valuable hidden away that she could be after.”

  “Maybe I have Myrtlebell,” he said, sitting up as if something had bitten him. “Or at least I did.”

  “I've no idea what you could possibly be talking about, Fuzz. You do have a very comfortable den, but I can't imagine that any of your personal possessions are nearly valuable enough to bring her all the way here.”

  “I'm talking about something I found several years back that someone like Spitemorta could put to very good use to the detriment of us all, if she ever got her hands on it.”

  “You aren't making much sense, Fuzz. What exactly did you find that could make Spitemorta more dangerous than she already is?”

  Fuzz shook his head. “Please understand that I trust you implicitly, Myrtlebell,” he said, “but it is truly best if you don't know.”

  “I'm completely bewildered, but I do understand, Fuzz. What do we do now?”

  “I think we need to go to the dragons. Spark may have a way to contact Razzmorten. It would be best to get you and Edward to a safer place for awhile.”

  “All right, but what about you?”

  “Hey. I'm just a fuzzy old bear with no hair. Spitemorta isn't likely to give me a second look.”

  ***

  Demonica made some signs in the bright morning air, found her stirrup and settled herself comfortably astride Gwenole. She turned to see if Spitemorta were ready. She was, and they sauntered off, following the tracks of one human and one bear into the woods.

  Chapter 58

  “Grandfather!” shouted Lukus from the far end of the stalls. He left Starfire to eat his oats and hurried over to Razmorten, who was about heave his saddle onto Abracadabra's back. He sighed and had another go. Lukus waited politely in the fresh straw, impatiently fiddling with a braid of flax while his grandfather managed.

  Razzmorten quietly patted his unicorn before turning to Lukus. “So,” he said, “are you just trying to hurry me along, or did you have something you wanted to tell me?”


  “Both,” he laughed. “Come see what's happened to Starfire since I last rode him.”

  “Lead on.”

  “There. Look at his horn and hooves,” he said, nodding at the wagging horn and alert ears of his prized cyflymder unicorn, snuffling and champing from the bottom of a deep feed box. “The candy stripes they picked up in the Peppermint Forest are almost completely faded out.”

  “That's only half of it,” said Rose, coming up behind in boots and riding breeches. “Mystique's stripes are completely gone. At last, I say. But it's just more proof that the magic in the forest is failing, isn't it, Grandfather?”

  Razzmorten nodded. “It's a good thing we managed to bring your unicorns back from the Peppermint and get them free of their sukere habits when we did. Hard as it was on them, you can be sure that it was 'way easier then than it would be now, above five years later.”

  “No kidding,” said Rose. “I know what it felt like to quit the stuff after having it in absolutely everything we ate and drank at Ugleeuh's. I craved it, even as it made me fat, hurt my teeth and took away all of my energy. Even now, in spite of its not tasting all that good, I get this awful craving for it. Fates! People will destroy their health, their free will, and turn into complete slaves of the stuff and still insist that it's harmless.”

  “Ye got that right Rose,” said Hubba Hubba, fanning her hair with his wings as he lit on her shoulder and gave him self a shake. “I was the biggest slave there ever was. And in those days, I'd 'a' done anything to eat it. I'd stoop to things just so Ugleeuh would keep me well supplied. But thanks to the Wiz here, and my wonderful mate, I'm the healthy and free bird you see today.”

  “Biggest crow, is what I'd heard,” said Pebbles with a whistle, as she settled on Razzmorten's shoulder.

  “Indeed you are,” said Rose with a laugh.

  “So, this is a complement here, or what?” said Hubba Hubba.

  Pebbles gave a piercing two note whistle, making Razzmorten jerk his head aside.

  “Both!” she cried, flapping her wings. “And you're the biggest hero in my life.”

  “So you agree he deserves this scratch I'm giving him, aye Pebbles?” said Rose. “Now, unless someone has forgotten something, I think Grandfather is ready to ride.”

  Razzmorten nodded and their journey began with the two parrots launching themselves into the air and proudly taking the lead to Port Niarg.

  ***

  “How far is it to the dragon caves, Uncafuzz?” said Edward, with a bright-eyed bounce of anticipation in the cool dawn air of the rock cavity, as the calls of jays reached in from the trees, outside.

  “Short as we can make it, Edward, lad errant,” said Fuzz, scratching the sparse velveteen of his temple, “We didn't bring a thing with us. Beyond that, I can't say yet. It depends on what we run into. Depends on a whole slew of things I haven't sorted through yet.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, we need to make as straight for the caves as we can, but what or whom we run into could send us off on all sorts of crazy paths. Things like that.”

  “Yea. And if we're being chasted by those womans,” he said with conviction, at which Myrtlebell and Fuzz shared a look. He hadn't been as sound asleep as they had thought.

  “That's chased, Edward, not chasted,” said Myrtlebell, “and women, not womans. And you, young man, shouldn't eavesdrop on adults.”

  “What's easedrop, Momma?”

  “That's eavesdropping, sweetie,” she said as she took his hand, hurriedly following Fuzz out into the early light, “and it means listening when you shouldn't be.”

  “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but you and Uncafuzz weren't whispering or anything. You were on each side of me, so I had to hear. Next time, I'll use my fingers,” he said, pulling out of her grasp to trot along beside, with a finger in each ear.

  “Maybe you should whisper,” she said, gently grabbing hold of his wrist. “Your voice carries.”

  “You mean so those womans...Ooooo, Momma!” he said jerking free to squat by the path in the moist leaves. “Here's a walking stick bug. But it doesn't have no...doesn't have any stripes.” He grabbed up the creature for a closer look.

  Fuzz halted and came back to see. “Ask it if it has any messages for us, Edward,” he said, thinking of the plucky candy striped walking stick which the amorous raspberry bear, Rotundra, had set on him when he passed this way with Rose and Lukus, as they fled Ugleeuh long ago.

  Edward whispered into his hands at the struggling insect. “It won't talk to me, Uncafuzz,” he said, holding it out. “Maybe it'll like you better and talk to you.”

  “So,” said Fuzz to the walking stick. “Do you indeed have a message from a big raspberry bear?” He gave a pensive chuckle, remembering Rose and Lukus. The walking stick sprang out of his paws and scurried into the leaf litter. “Oh my. Just an ordinary ol' walking stick. Looks as if the magic is fading away in the insects. The plants have been changing back for some time. I'd bet other animals already have, too.”

  “You're certainly right about that,” said a lovely woman dressed in white from head to toe, as she stepped into the path before them.

  “Just who are you?” cried Fuzz with a wide-eyed and bristly woof, as he planted his feet, causing Myrtlebell and Edward to nearly collide with him. An icy wave of fear surged through him at the thought that she might be Spitemorta or the woman with her.

  “Fear not Fuzz,” she said with calm urgency, “I came here in order to lead you to safety. No time to explain now. The women you flee aren't at all far behind. You must trust me.”

  Myrtlebell nodded to Fuzz and he at once hoisted Edward up onto his back.

  “Good,” said the woman in white, you're going to be reasonable. Follow me.”

  She dove into a crouching scurry, zigzagging into the low thicket of candied heath that went down a steep slope at a right angle to the path they had been following, with Fuzz and Myrtlebell scrambling to keep up. The heath hid them with a thick canopy of leaves, still quite dark green, but they could not stand upright, and often they found themselves on hip and elbow as they scuttled and stumped from coppice to coppice down the falling face of the hill. Jays gave ringing calls overhead. Suddenly Myrtlebell realized that some of the thudding she had been hearing was from unicorns arriving up where they had been only moments before.

  Down, franticly down they went, twigs raking down arms and flicking by ears. At the foot of the hill the woman found a twisting path along a stream bottom amongst gnarled ironwoods and huge boulders thrust up out of the earth. She broke into a run, her white gown whipping and whirling in the somber light. Fuzz grabbed Myrtlebell's hand and towed her stumbling and flailing to keep up. Suddenly they plunged after her into a crystal clear stream, sending a heron into flight from the water's edge. She turned at once and began swiftly tramping upstream, stepping over the knee deep water with each stride. There was no choice about hiking their knees to their chins at each step, for Fuzz and Myrtlebell found at once that they couldn't possibly keep up with her while dragging their legs through the water against the current.

  After twenty rods the woman made for the opposite bank, lunging from the water like a wadded bed sheet that went bouncing and dodging into a thicket of willow saplings. Myrtlebell ripped the length of her skirt on something, but she scarcely noticed, crashing through the willows with a fire in her chest. Presently the woman dropped her skirts as she turned and sped down a broad, bare path. Myrtlebell heard hoof beats immediately followed by splashes and paused to barely make out riders through the willows. A white-hot horror seized her and she turned back to see Fuzz disappearing up the path. She ran to catch him, with a fury of everything she had. “Fuzz! Unicorns!” she gasped as she reached him.

  Fuzz wheeled round with Edward to see the path utterly vanishing behind them. At the sounds of crashing and wallowing in the heavy brush, they resumed their flight. The woman in white was no where to be seen, so they ran with all their might ahead of the path which continued
closing in right behind them. Presently the path ahead began a gradual climb into open woods. As the thickets gave way to trees, they saw the woman waiting in the distance. A black and white woodpecker hammered a short staccato, then hopped out of sight round the far side of a tree trunk. Chickadees called. They ran on and soon caught up with her.

  Instead of speaking, the woman turned and jogged on, leading them up over a long hogback and down the far side. Suddenly she turned aside from the path and loped downward through the deep leaves.

  Before long, Fuzz felt a cool dank draught of air.

  “Where are you taking us, lady?” he said, when he realized that they had not heard hooves for a good long time.

  “To an underground cavern, my grotto,” she said. “There you can rest unseen until it's safe to resume your flight. Come.” She led them toward a leafy fold in the rock strewn hillside. Behind a small boulder she stooped to wiggle through a hanging mat of green briar and grape vines. They followed her, stooping and groping through a tight, dark passage which soon opened expansively, giving them an uncluttered path along a smooth wall. This they followed for a very long way in utter blackness until at last the woman startled them by suddenly setting alight with a wave of her hand dozens of torches in sconces along the wall of a huge cavern.

  She motioned for them to be seated upon a lovely floral printed snow white settee. Then she lowered the hood of her white cloak to reveal her flowing chestnut and nearly iridescent burgundy tresses in the torchlight.

  “Thank you for saving us, gracious lady,” said Fuzz, feeling oddly self-conscious at being unable to keep his eyes off her. “Will you now tell us who you are, particularly since you already know my name?” He let Edward, sound asleep, to slide into Myrtlebell's arms.