The Werewolves of Nottinghill

by J. J. Thompson

  She folded her arms and glared at them like an impatient school teacher, her wings flapping swiftly as she hovered in place.

  “Um, okay.”

  Malcolm and Aiden exchanged skeptical looks, but the big man shrugged and nodded.

  “Let's give it a shot,” he told his partner.

  “Right.”

  As the three magic-users watched, the werewolves closed their eyes in unison. Malcolm scowled, a truly scary sight in his current form, while Aiden almost looked like he was sleeping. Both breathed slowly as they concentrated the way that Ellas has told them to.

  Malcolm growled softly.

  “I feel... something,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, me too,” Aiden replied. “Uh-oh, I think that this is gonna hurt.”

  Without warning, both figures convulsed and the horrible snapping sounds of their bones and muscles altering again made the watchers wince. Aiden fell to his hands and knees and a shower of thick brown fur fell off of him on to the floor. His body shrunk back to its original size and shape and his wolf-like muzzle disappeared as his own handsome features reformed again.

  Malcolm remained standing. He stretched out his arms and threw back his head as his black fur was shed like thick, dark snow. His height lessened and he returned to his own, still formidable, body. The only difference that anyone could see from the old Malcolm was that his normally tight braids had all unraveled.

  Aiden looked at him, still panting from his painful transformation, and giggled in spite of himself.

  “What are you laughing at?” Malcolm asked thickly. “Do I have a mustache now or something?”

  “You know that you can't grow a decent mustache,” Aiden reminded him. “No, it looks like I'm going to have to braid your hair again.”

  “What?”

  The big man reached up and touched his long, puffy hair.

  “Oh damn it,” he said irritably. “It takes forever to braid this mess and I hate having to sit that long.”

  “Cut it short,” Aiden said with a shrug. “It would be a lot easier to manage.”

  “I'll pass, thanks,” Malcolm replied disdainfully.

  Tamara cleared her throat, smiling at the domestic banter between the two men.

  “You can discuss your issues later. Let's focus on the fact that it worked! I mean, look at you! You transformed into werewolves and back to humans again. That is amazing!”

  “It really is, isn't it?” Malcolm agreed. “And we have Ellas and Chao to thank for it. And you two ladies as well,” he added hurriedly.

  Tamara grinned at him.

  “No need to thank me. I'm just happy that we didn't have to test how well my shield would hold up under a werewolf assault.”

  “And I just lent Chao some of my power,” Sylvie said. “Hardly a reason to thank me.”

  “Well, we do anyway,” Aiden told them. “And Ellas and Chao; you saved us. You really did. Our lives are finally our own, thanks to you. I don't have the words to express how grateful Malcolm and I are to you both.”

  Ellas was beaming at their compliments, while Chao bowed to the men.

  “We were happy to help you, my friends,” he told them with a faint smile. “And allow me to reassure you both that you will not involuntarily revert back to your lupine states unless you choose to. You will not wake up covered in hair, nor will anger trigger the change. You will have to force your bodies to change and it will be harder than you might think to do that.”

  “Chao is correct,” Ellas piped up. “You are masters of yourselves now, but it will take a great effort to turn back into werewolves.”

  “Since I don't ever want to do that again, I don't see that as a problem,” Malcolm told them. “What possible reason would Aiden and I have for wanting to become monsters?”

  The sprite rolled her eyes at him and looked over at Tamara and Sylvie.

  “You see? Males lack imagination. I have always said so.”

  The mages smiled at her, but they remained silent and didn't take the bait.

  “Meaning what, Ellas?” Aiden asked her patiently.

  “I mean that you are not taking the long view, commander,” she said sharply. “Werewolves are only monsters when they are not controlled. You have regained control of your feral alter-egos, which means that you are not monsters any longer when in that form. As to why you would want to transform into a werewolf again? Allow me to list them.”

  She began ticking off her points off on her tiny fingers.

  “Werewolves have incredible strength and dexterity. They are immune to poison and disease. They heal at an accelerated rate. And they can only be killed by blessed silver weapons or very powerful magic.”

  She raised an eyebrow as she looked at Malcolm and Sylvie.

  “Isn't that enough for you? What more do you want? Now that you are in control while in werewolf form, you are practically demigods. Why would you want to avoid using such gifts if circumstances warrant it?”

  “She's got you there,” Tamara told them with a laugh. “I don't think that you should walk around the castle covered in fur, but with the mounting threats we are facing, you may have to use your new talents in the future.”

  Malcolm looked thoughtful and he glanced at Aiden, who nodded slowly.

  “You make good points, Ellas. Mal and I have a lot to think about.”

  “But not right now,” Tamara said firmly. “You have both been through a lot today and you should get some rest. And Chao, you must be exhausted as well. I know that I could certainly use a nap right about now. So let's call it a day. We'll talk more about this later.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Malcolm agreed. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

  “Just try not to snore too much” Aiden told him with a grin. “I need my rest too, you know.”

  Chapter 17

  It took Shendal several weeks to recover from the trauma caused by his possession. Elves were long-lived but because of that, when they reached old age, they became quite fragile. It was suggested that he be transported back to Trillfarness, the elven world, but Dianis would not allow it. She was worried that dark forces would attack him again and wanted to find some way to protect both Shendal and all other elves crossing between the worlds.

  “The problem is that my people are not spell-casters,” Dianis said to Tamara one morning.

  Both of them were sitting in the elf's quarters. Dianis had invited the mage to join her for breakfast to discuss several issues, one of which was the danger of using the dimensional portal.

  “There is no way for us to cast magical shields,” she continued as she sipped her tea.

  Both of the women were sitting in front of a bay window that faced the east. The sun was beaming into the room as it climbed into the sky and Tamara took a moment to silently enjoy its warmth. She and Dianis had eaten toast with jam for breakfast, a simple meal but enjoyable for them both. Now they drank chamomile tea and spoke about their mutual problems.

  A mild, scented breeze wafted through the open window and the elf smiled at the smell of the sea mixed in with the sweet fragrance of the forest.

  “It is difficult to feel the weight of my position surrounded by such a beautiful morning,” she said softly.

  “I agree,” Tamara replied as she glanced at the rising sun. “It's easy to get caught up in worries and forget that what we do, we do for our respective worlds, along with our people. And it really is a beautiful day.”

  Dianis' smile widened and she nodded. But after a long moment of silence, she set down her cup on the small round table between the two women and sat back to give Tamara a direct look.

  “We still have the problem of what to do to protect my people when they come to this world or head back to our own. Any ideas?”

  “My fellow mages and I had been discussing it, but we were stumped.”

  Tamara sipped her own tea and then laughed lightly.

  “And then we were offered a solution by a very surprising source; the castle's blac
ksmith, Daniel Cooper.”

  “The blacksmith?” Dianis said with surprise. “Was he involved in your discussions?”

  “Not at all. But Daniel hears all of the rumors that swirl around the castle, and he must have gotten word that the transition between worlds had become dangerous, and the reason for it. So he approached me with a rather unique idea.”

  “Which was what?”

  A knock on the door interrupted them and Dianis stood up gracefully, her white robe swirling around her, and crossed the room.

  “Yes?” she said as she opened the door.

  One of the kitchen staff, a young man named Kenny, stood nervously out in the hallway.

  “I'm sorry to interrupt you, ma'am,” he said in a shaky voice. “I was just wondering if you and lady Tamara wanted anything else from the kitchen?”

  Tamara leaned forward in her chair and caught the man's eye.

  “No thanks, Kenny,” she said. “But you can take away the dishes if you want to.”

  Dianis stood back and Kenny hurried into the room. He was carrying a large tray with a round ceramic teapot on top of it.

  “Thank you,” he said with a relieved smile. “Chef wanted me to make sure you had both had enough to eat. According to him, just eating toast is not considered breakfast. And I brought more tea. Your first pot must be cold right now.”

  Both women laughed and the man seemed to relax slightly.

  “Thanks for the tea,” Tamara said. “And you can tell Mario that we're fine with just toast. If Dianis or I want anything else, we'll drop by the kitchen and ask.”

  Kenny finished clearing the dishes and picked up his loaded tray. He grinned at Tamara's statement.

  “I'll be sure to let him know that. The thought of either of you visiting the kitchen will give him fits.”

  Tamara winked at him and watched as he left the room. Dianis closed the door behind him and returned to her seat.

  “I appreciate your people and their humor,” she told Tamara. “We elves are much more reserved.”

  “Possibly the result of living a long time?” Tamara speculated.

  “Ah, that is a good point. You might be right. Now, back to the subject at hand. What about your blacksmith and his idea?”

  “Right. Well, as you may know, Daniel has the ability to imbue weapons and armor with magic. It makes weapons stronger and gives them the ability to harm magical beasts like dragons. And the enchanted armor offers some protection from magical attacks. His gift is quite unique among my people.”

  “Yes, I have heard about that. A remarkable talent, I agree, but how does it help with our situation?”

  “Because of Daniel's rather interesting idea. He believes, and we haven't tried this yet, so we don't know if it will work, that he can imbue an object with an actual spell. Specifically the shield spell. And if that is true, then anyone carrying that object will be able to invoke the magic and shield themselves as they travel through the portal.”

  Dianis looked flabbergasted.

  “Are you serious?” she asked in disbelief. “He can do that?”

  “He thinks that he can do that,” Tamara corrected her. “It's still just a theory. For it to actually work, one of us mages would have to teach him the shield spell, and he would have to understand it well enough to be able to infuse it into an object. A metal object, actually. Daniel says that his talent only works on metal for some reason.”

  “Well, he is a blacksmith, after all,” Dianis said with a smile.

  “True enough. But you see what this might mean?” Tamara asked. “Your people could potentially pass back and forth between worlds without fear of demonic invasion. I know that you have sent a message back to your Elder Council to stop all travel from your world to ours until we have dealt with this emergency.”

  “I had to,” Dianis admitted. “It would be folly to expose my people to the kind of horrible intrusion that Shendal went through. Who knows what might happen the next time, especially if the possession went undetected? No, we cannot take that chance. Fortunately, before she came here, Chase was given one of the rare ancient crystals created ages ago by our ancestors. It allows us to speak directly to my fellow Elders back on Trillfarness without having to risk a trip through the portal. Sadly, the secret to their construction was lost long ago.”

  “Handy things to have,” Tamara said. “I wonder if Simon O'Toole could have created something like that? He made the first lodestones, after all. Others can do that now too, but they have limited range and are inferior to the ones that Simon made.”

  “Now that is an interesting thought. He really was a powerful man, wasn't he?” Dianis replied. “I truly hope that your people are right and that the wizard will actually return one day. His aid would be invaluable, especially if the goblins cross the channel from the mainland and attack this castle directly.”

  “He was unique,” Tamara admitted. “I don't know why we haven't produced another wizard after all this time, but Simon's talents haven't appeared in anyone else and maybe never will.”

  She looked out over the forest, resting her elbows on the table as she watched the day brighten.

  “We could use him now,” she admitted candidly. “But we'll just have to make do with what we have. And what we have are four senior mages and three more who are still learning to control their powers. Plus a handful of healers. And Chao, of course. I know that there must be more magic-users out there somewhere,” she added, looking out at the world beyond the window. “But so far we haven't been able to find them. So we will defend Nottinghill with the forces that we have now and hope that they are up to the task.”

  The Elder looked impressed by Tamara's resolve. She nodded as she too stared out at the deep woods that were brightly lit by the sun.

  “I have come to admire your people, my friend,” she said. “But you have more strengths and talents than the ones you have mentioned. Your blacksmith's talent cannot be underestimated. His weapons and armor will help greatly. And now you have two men who are not just great warriors, but werewolves as well. And they can control that power directly! I cannot overstate how much their presence will help you in future battles.”

  Tamara poured herself another cup of tea and, after offering the teapot to Dianis, who nodded, poured the elf a cup as well.

  “Maybe they will, but that brings us to our next problem,” Tamara said as she carefully sipped the hot liquid.

  “Which is?”

  “Will the population accept them? Malcolm and Aiden are greatly admired among my people, but only a few actually know about their 'condition'. Humans are afraid of magical creatures, and rightly so. Our history of conflict with dragons, drakes, and so many other monsters makes everyone nervous when they are exposed to something that they would consider inhuman. And werewolves will fit that description for many of them. Will they be able to put aside their fears and trust two men that have sacrificed so much for this castle more than once? That I cannot say and it worries me. The rumor that Shendal started when he was possessed spread a lot more quickly than it should have. It seems that there are a lot of people eager to accept any foolish story as fact. That could be a problem.”

  Dianis added some honey to her tea and stirred it slowly. She gave Tamara a curious look.

  “Do you have a solution?”

  Tamara smiled mischievously.

  “We are going to fight fire with fire, so to speak. Sebastian is very well liked among the people and he has already begun to spread an admirable story about Malcolm and Aiden's long-ago fight with a werewolf, their years of brave suffering under the shadow of their curse and their recent successful conquering of that curse. He is telling people that they can now use those powers in the defense of Nottinghill Castle. He tells me that the story is being received well, so now we'll just sit back and let it make its way through the population.”

  “Devious,” Dianis said, obviously impressed. “I admire your tactics. They are a little convoluted, I suppose, but they might just
work. I do hope, however, that you have warned Malcolm and Aiden. Surely they will have to handle an avalanche of questions once this tale spreads throughout the castle?”

  “We told them. Malcolm thought the idea was hilarious. Using the same strategy that our enemies tried to use against us, but to our benefit? He loves it.”

  “And his partner?”

  “Aiden?”

  Tamara's smiled faded and she looked troubled.

  “Aiden is... different. He's very popular, you know, and a great leader. Plus he is loyal to a fault. But he's also much more reserved than Malcolm is. He isn't comfortable with our plan. He has agreed to go along with it, fortunately, but he is definitely not going to enjoy answering silly questions from a hoard of nosy people. If we are going to get everyone used to the idea of having werewolves living among us, though, then this is probably the best way to pass along the information without starting a panic.”

  The women fell silent, each of them drinking their tea and watching the world grow brighter outside of the window. They had a lot to think about.

  “Do you howl at a full moon?”

  Aiden looked over at the doorway. He was standing in the blacksmith's shop, watching as Daniel sharpened his sword. A small boy was peering into the smoky room and staring at the warrior with wide eyes.

  “Hey Drew,” Aiden said to the boy.

  He was one of the children born after the dragons returned, the next generation of humans whose parents had been Changed. So far, all of the youngsters in Nottinghill Castle seemed to be normal. The adults could only hope that they would stay that way. Unfortunately none of them appeared to have any magical talent, and that was worrisome to the Council.

  “What did you say?” Aiden asked him.

  “Mama says that you're a werewolf,” the boy said brightly. “So does that mean that you howl when the moon is full?”