The Werewolves of Nottinghill

by J. J. Thompson

  “I did. I felt the need to memorialize him somehow, and I've always dabbled in art. Lei was the practical one in the family. I was the dreamer. I still miss him, you know,” he added softly.

  “Of course you do,” Aiden replied as he looked at the painting again. “We all do, but he was your brother, after all. All of my family died back when the dragons returned and I still miss them. I can only imagine how hard it would be to lose one of them these days, after surviving those crazy times. It's not really fair, is it?”

  “No, it is not. And now that we have lost Liliana, the human race is without a paladin to fight for them.” Chao briefly smiled at Aiden. “Which makes warriors like you and Malcolm even more valuable to us. Please, take a seat and let us talk.”

  Both men walked across the room and sat down in front of the bookshelves. Aiden sipped his tea and nodded at the stack of books on the table between them.

  “Research?”

  Chao reached out and picked up a book at random. It was a heavy tome bound in brown leather and it looked weathered and quite old.

  “In a way. Some of the creatures who communicate with me try to curry my favor by bringing me old books and scrolls from time to time. Where they find them is a mystery. They never say and I would consider it rather rude to question them. But I am grateful for the gifts. Most of these treasures are useless to me, but I have passed on books of spells to Tamara and the others. And occasionally I receive a true gem. I assume that you are here about one of them?”

  Aiden raised an eyebrow.

  “Am I? Tamara explained to Malcolm and myself that your friend, Ellas, told you about a possible solution to our, um, problem. She didn't mention anything about a special book.”

  Chao smiled and set the tome back on the table.

  “No, I do not suppose she did. But Ellas was the one who brought me the book, and told me about your condition. I was quite surprised to learn of it.”

  “I'll bet you were,” Aiden said dryly.

  Chao chuckled at his tone.

  “To be honest, I found it rather unbelievable,” the smaller man said as he set down his tea cup on the table. “Your physical Changes are obvious to anyone who sees you, of course. But we who know you and have seen you in action know that you have also been blessed with incredible martial skills. You can use almost any weapon and you have a deep understanding of tactics and the intricacies of battle. Add to that this gift of lycanthropy and...”

  “Gift?” Aiden exclaimed, interrupting him. “You call this a gift? Forced to worry every month at the full moon that, maybe this time, my talisman won't prevent the metamorphosis? That perhaps this is the month when I change into a ravening beast and tear apart my friends and loved ones? You have a strange definition of what a gift is, Chao.”

  The summoner seemed surprised by Aiden's outburst.

  “But your magical pendant continues to work, does it not? And Malcolm's as well?”

  “So far, yes. But will they work forever? That is the thing that I worry about the most.”

  “Ah, I see. But, if you could somehow be assured that the pendants would never fail, would you still think of your condition as a curse instead of a blessing?”

  “I don't understand why you continue to call our curse a gift or a blessing, Chao. It's lycanthropy. Malcolm and I are werewolves.”

  With a heavy sigh, Chao fussed over his robe for a moment, adjusting it to his satisfaction before answering.

  “I am not one to argue, my friend,” he said finally as he picked up his cup again and took a sip. “But you are, perhaps, too close to the condition to appreciate its benefits. You and your partner are strong, yes, since your Change back when the world fell to the dragons. But your lycanthropy makes you even stronger. You cannot be poisoned or infected with diseases, correct? Yes. You are also resistant to hostile spells, although not completely immune to them. Plus, you heal at a phenomenal rate. As far as I know, unless you are dealt a blow that is instantly fatal, no ordinary weapon can kill you; you simply heal too quickly.”

  Aiden looked startled as Chao listed the benefits bestowed upon him by his curse.

  “Ah, now you see what I mean,” Chao said with a small smile. “I can see your condition's benefits more clearly because I am evaluating you from a place of neutrality.”

  “Yes, I suppose that is true. Huh, I never think about the upside of our tainted blood, just the dangers of it if we ever lose control.”

  “Exactly. And that brings us to the reason that you are here, correct?”

  Aiden finished his tea and grinned at Chao.

  “Correct. After Tamara told us that you might have discovered a way to deal with the disease, Malcolm and I decided that we needed to learn more. So, can you explain how we can control this, um, gift?”

  “Yes, of course,” Chao said with a smile.

  He stood up and took Aiden's empty cup.

  “But before I do, more tea?”

  “If it's no trouble, that would be nice. Is that Mario's new blend?”

  “It is indeed. Delicious, isn't it? I'll be right back.”

  Malcolm climbed the staircase that led to the top of the castle wall, holding his sword hilt with his left hand so that he wouldn't trip over the weapon. The sun was high and the day had grown hot, but he didn't mind. Winters were colder and longer now, and Malcolm would never complain about hot weather again after getting through such a horrible season.

  He had smoothed things over with the guards at the gate and then had walked around the outside of the castle, checking on the squad of guardsmen who patrolled the perimeter of the building several times a day.

  Everything was fine, according to them. No signs of dragons, monsters or any other trouble.

  Malcolm had spent some time walking with the quartet of guardsmen, which consisted of two men and two women, and making small talk. He listened closely for any hints of stress or concern in their voices, but they all seemed to be calm and fairly happy.

  Now he was going to see the guards who stood watch on top of the wall. Since the death of the primal dragon, everyone who had lookout duty was on edge, understandably so. The great scaled beasts had disappeared from the world for almost five years and people had been able to live their lives without the constant fear of dying in a withering blast of dragon fire. Those days of relative peace were now over.

  “Donny! How's it going?”

  A large red-headed man, who was standing near the stairs and looking off to the west, turned around and grinned as he saw Malcolm.

  “Hey boss,” Donny exclaimed. “What are you doing up here? I thought that it was your day off?”

  Unlike most of the guardsmen, Donald Murphy never wore a helmet. Malcolm had told him several times that it was a bad idea, but the man had insisted that he couldn't stand the things and refused to wear one. And since he was the ranking guardsman, and an excellent leader, both Malcolm and Aiden had let it slide.

  “Besides,” Donny had said once with a sly smile. “This ginger bird's nest of mine is so thick that it could probably turn an arrow.”

  He shook back his red mane now as he watched Malcolm approach.

  “Yeah, it is my day off,” the big man said with a shrug. “But I missed all you guys so much that I just couldn't stay away.”

  Donny rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically, his south London accent a little thicker than usual. “Considering what a pain in the ass these new recruits are, I going to call B.S. on that.”

  Malcolm chuckled as he joined Donny. They both looked off toward the western horizon as a steady wind blew by them.

  “Well, to be honest,” Malcolm said a little more seriously, “I wanted to see how the new guardsmen are doing. We're running a little thin on volunteers and I think that keeping a closer eye on them and fine tuning their training if need be might be helpful. They need to be as ready as possible in case we run across something nasty in the future.”

  Donny gave the big man
a sideways glance and adjusted his sword belt. Like all of the guards, he was wearing chain-mail, but the red head was the only one of them who carried two weapons and no shield.

  On his left hip was a long-sword and on his right hung a hand axe. Somehow Donny had developed into a wickedly good fighter with both weapons. He claimed that it was because he was ambidextrous, but Malcolm suspected that it was some subtle talent that he had received when he had Changed. Either way, he was a fantastic fighter and could give both Malcolm and Aiden a run for their money in practice matches.

  “That's not a bad idea, actually,” Donny admitted. “Since the battle with that big bastard of a dragon and the loss of Liliana, the new ones are a little skittish. Can't blame 'em. I'm a little jumpy myself.”

  “You?”

  Malcolm looked at Donny in surprise.

  “I didn't think anything scared you, Donny.”

  With a laugh, the red head winked at him.

  “Yeah, normally the only thing I'm afraid of is my wife. But dragons? Yeah, they're scary to everyone. How are we supposed to deal with a threat as large as that, hmm? By the time I got close enough to one of the beasts to smack 'em with my friends here,” he said as he slapped his weapons, “I'd be a crispy piece of charcoal.”

  Malcolm pushed back his mass of braids as he scanned the western sky. He was sure that Donny spoke for the majority of the guardsmen, and that worried him. If the castle's defenders were afraid, how were the regular folks feeling? Worse, he assumed. That was bad and he couldn't see any way to calm their fears except to hope that they weren't attacked by anything for a while, at least until everyone calmed down. And that was a thin hope at best.

  When Chao returned to the living room carrying fresh cups of tea, he found Aiden standing in front of the fireplace again, looking up at the painting hanging over it.

  “It is such a good likeness,” Aiden said, without looking around as Chao approached him. “You've captured Lei perfectly. You have a real gift, you know.”

  He turned and accepted the steaming cup from Chao.

  “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome. I appreciate the sentiment, but my talent is modest at best.” He looked up at the painting and smiled gently. “It was, perhaps, emotion that added more depth to the portrait than I would normally have been able to give it. I miss him very much,” he added softly.

  “I know.”

  The men sat down again.

  “Do you remember Ellas?” Chao asked after a moment.

  “How could anyone forget her?” Aiden replied with a laugh. “I'd never met a fairy before her. Tiny, pert, opinionated and beautiful all at the same time. She was quite unique.”

  “I'll take that as a compliment then, shall I?”

  Aiden looked around the room in surprise. The disembodied voice that spoke seemed to be coming from all around him. It was light and airy, sweet but with a hard edge. It was more high-pitched than a child's voice, but it certainly did not sound like a child.

  “Ellas?” he asked tentatively. “Is that you?”

  Chao was watching him with a twinkle in his eyes while he sat back with his hands folded in his lap. He was clearly enjoying Aiden's awkward response to his surprise.

  “Oh, the great warrior remembers me! Isn't that magnanimous of him? Should I feel complimented? Privileged perhaps?”

  There was a momentary pause.

  “No, I don't think so. I am a sprite, by the way. Not a fairy. Fairy is the generic term that your people used to use for all of my kind. Can you not even remember that much about me, you silly man?”

  “Ellas, Aiden is a guest,” Chao said sternly. “He is also a friend of mine. I would ask that you treat him with respect. Or at least show some manners.”

  There was no answer.

  “How long has she been here?” Aiden asked him.

  “I just summoned her a moment ago,” Chao told him. “While waiting for the water to boil. My skills have been improving with practice and my spells work very quickly now when I get in touch with one of my friends that I have summoned before. And I have summoned Ellas more that anyone else.”

  “That is because I am the cleverest, the fastest and the prettiest of all of the other creatures that you claim as your friends.”

  There was a sparkle in the air above Chao's left shoulder and Aiden was startled to see a tiny winged shape suddenly pop into existence.

  “You simply cannot resist summoning me, can you?” she asked Chao with a wide smile.

  The sprite looked exactly the same as fairies were supposed to look in the old stories and folktales. She was only about six inches tall, with iridescent wings that looked like those of a monarch butterfly. She had blond hair tied back in a braid and wore a long sparkling blue gown that fluttered in time with her constantly moving wings. Her little face was exquisitely beautiful.

  Ellas flew around Chao until they were facing each other. She flitted as quickly as a hummingbird would and her wings moved so fast that they were only a blur of color.

  “It has nothing to do with being irresistible, Ellas,” the summoner said patiently. “You have information about Aiden and Malcolm and I felt it best that you should be the one to relay it to them personally. And I would prefer that you do it without being rude. Can you do that, or shall I dismiss you and do it myself?”

  The sprite sniffed indignantly and spun around to look at Aiden.

  “He was rude to me, not the other way around. Imagine calling me a fairy? The nerve of some people.”

  “If that was insulting, Ellas, then I apologize,” Aiden said sincerely. “In the old stories, fairies and sprites were words used for the same thing. Actually sometimes elves were thrown in as well.”

  “Elves?”

  Ellas looked shocked.

  “Those old tales thought that we were all the same type of being?”

  “I'm afraid so.”

  “Well, that's just stupid, that's what it is. Although...” she paused to think a moment. “Although being compared to an elf is actually a compliment. I like elves, always have. So wise, so strong and noble. Yes, I do not mind that mistake, I suppose. But fairies are simply what humans called all of the fay, not just sprites like myself. Do you know what a dragonfly is, young man?”

  Aiden was caught off-guard by the question.

  “Um, yes. Why do you ask?”

  “Do you remember their wings?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “It is the pixies who have wings like those insects. Whereas sprites have much more beautiful wings. You see the difference? Why your people ever began thinking that we were all the same thing is a mystery to me. We created the butterflies long ago, did you know that?”

  Ellas looked quite pleased when Aiden shook his head.

  “Well, we did. We wanted a creature to live in your world that reminded you humans of us. Whereas the silly pixies made those grotesque dragonflies. Ugh. Such a disgusting creation.”

  “Ellas, we are getting off track,” Chao said pointedly. “Aiden is here to discuss his condition, remember?”

  “Oh yes. Right. Fine then, let us begin. I'll bet you want to know how to cure yourself, don't you?” she asked with a sly grin.

  Aiden sat forward on his chair and stared at her intently.

  “Yes please,” he said.

  Chapter 5

  Ellas flew down to the table between Chao and Aiden and landed on the top of a pile of books. She extended her luminescent wings and stretched languidly.

  Aiden had to admit that she was one of the prettiest creatures that he had ever seen, and he had a feeling that she wanted him to know it.

  After she had stretched, Ellas shook her wings once and they faded out of existence. Aiden gaped at her and she smiled as she sat down gracefully on the book that she had landed on, her gown settling around her.

  “Now, let us discuss werewolves, hmm?” she said. “What they are and what they are not.”

  “Sure,” Aiden replied and sat back. />
  This was Ellas' show and she obviously knew it and was enjoying it immensely. She cocked her head at him and seemed to be sizing him up.

  “A werewolf,” she began, “is not a monster. Well, not a proper monster anyway. Ordinary monsters like manticores or hippogriffs are always exactly what they appear to be. They do not change from one state to another the way that werewolves do. Do you understand?”

  “Certainly. Um, what's a hippogriff?”

  Ellas rolled her tiny eyes and looked over at Chao in exasperation.

  “A hippogriff,” Chao cut in, “is a conglomeration of two creatures. A magical splicing, as it were. The front section of its body is that of a huge eagle and its rear portion is that of a horse.”

  “And those things are real?”

  “Of course they are real,” Ellas snapped. “Why would I speak of imaginary things? Warrior, you are sitting here speaking with a sprite, are you not? It is a little late to question what is real and what is not, don't you think?”

  Aiden had to laugh at her logic.

  “You make a very good point, Ellas. Please, continue.”

  She seemed surprised by his reaction and smiled for the first time.

  “You have a sense of humor. Good, I like that. Warriors are often gloomy and far too serious. Perhaps I judged you too quickly. We will see. Now, where was I?”

  She frowned in thought for a moment and Chao gave Aiden a subtle wink. The warrior forced himself not to grin in return. It might anger the mercurial little sprite.

  “Oh yes, monsters. You see the difference between werewolves and monsters then, yes? A monster's state never changes. They are what they are and always will be. But you and your friend are not. You are shape-shifters, altering your forms from man to beast and back again. And as such, you are not monsters.”

  “We're not?”

  “Not at all. Monsters, like dragons, are magical. Lycanthropy is caused by magic. That is the essential difference.”

  “Huh.”

  Aiden gave that some thought. He knew that the magical energy that infused the Earth had been brought into the world by the dragons. They were the source, although ultimately it was the power of the dark gods that had created the dragons to begin with. But while the beasts had been described as magical, he'd never really understood that all monsters were essentially magical constructs as well. It was an interesting distinction between what he and Malcolm were and what the dragons and the other monsters were.