Ana also got her fair share of intent looks but took no notice. She was looking around with interest and appeared very pleased by what she saw.
“These people seem to be doing very well, sir wizard,” she commented as they passed a row of small, neat houses.
“They are, Ana. The human race is resilient, even if we are all Changed. The dragons will learn that to their sorrow one day,” he added grimly.
“No doubt they will,” she said absently, staring at a woman carrying an infant in her arms.
Simon grinned at the young mother and she smiled back warmly.
A few minutes later, they reached the large log building that was the town hall. There was a post with a metal ring in it next to the door that Simon knew had been installed just for him and the horses. He dismounted, tied Chief to the post and urged the mares to stand next to him.
He patted and stroked all three, praising them until all of them were nickering contentedly.
“You keep an eye on the ladies,” he told the stallion with a smile, and Chief brushed his big head across the wizard's chest, sending him staggering.
With a laugh, Simon found his balance and gestured for the elementals to follow him inside.
The main portion of the hall was empty; rows of benches sat facing the center where a fire pit had been dug and lined with stone. A pyramid of logs was set there, ready for future use. Above it, a smoke hole opened to the bright sky and lit the room, leaving sharp shadows in the corners.
The wizard strode across the room to the back of the building and a small door that led to the cleric's quarters. He glanced down at Kronk and Ana and then knocked twice.
“Come in,” Clara called out and he opened the door and stepped inside, followed by the elementals.
The young woman was sitting at the table she used for meals and small gatherings, reading by the light of several candles. Two windows, one to the north, the other on the opposite wall, let in bright sunlight but the center of the room was dim enough that she needed the extra light.
As usual, the cleric was wearing a simple blue robe and had her dark brown hair pulled back in a braid.
Clara looked up from a book she was reading intently and put it down as she realized who her visitors were.
“Simon! How lovely to see you.”
She got up and hurried over to shake his hand warmly.
“Welcome, welcome. I didn't know you were going to drop by.” She looked down at the elementals with a warm smile.
“It's good to see you again, Kronk,” she said and the earthen bowed.
“Thank you, lady,” he said cheerfully.
“And this must be Ana,” she said. “I'm so happy to finally meet you in person.”
The water elemental copied Kronk's bow.
“The pleasure is mine, lady cleric,” she said graciously.
Clara invited them to have a seat and then left the room, returning shortly with a tall pitcher and two glasses.
“Apple juice,” she said as she set them down. “Made from last year's crop of apples. It's quite good actually.”
Simon accepted a glass gratefully and tried it. Tart and sweet at the same time, it was delicious.
“Ah, very nice,” he said as Clara sat down again. “I wonder that your vintner hasn't thought of making cider yet.”
The cleric chuckled and sipped her own juice.
“Oh, he has, believe me. But the trees haven't matured enough yet to produce the amount of apples needed. Another year or two should do it. By the way, thank you for the saplings. We were never able to grow them ourselves, but now they are flourishing.”
“Don't thank me,” Simon told her and nodded at Kronk. The little guy was standing on the table watching them, Ana beside him.
“Kronk has the green thumb. He can literally grow anything.”
“Then thank you, my friend,” Clara said to him, raising her glass in a salute.
“I was happy to help, lady,” he said with a grateful smile.
“So. Simon, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” she asked politely. Her fingers were twisting and interweaving and Simon glanced at them curiously. The cleric wasn't normally a nervous person.
Something else that was strange caught his eye. He looked at the small pile of books next to the cleric's left arm and nodded toward them.
“Interesting reading you've got there. Werewolves of London? Lycanthropy: Myth and Legend? What's with the sudden interest in hairy monsters?”
Clara didn't return his grin and Simon frowned at her grim expression.
“What's going on?” he asked as he rested his arms on the table and leaned forward.
The cleric ran a hand over the book in front of her. Simon looked at the title. Movie Monsters: Then and Now.
“We live in strange times, don't we?” Clara said in a subdued voice. “Undead creatures stalk the night. Dragons soar across the skies. Wizards, clerics, paladins. It's all so...make-believe, isn't it?”
“I hear you,” he replied. “There are some days when I pinch myself, thinking that it's all been a fever dream and I'll wake up back in my old mundane life. But I never do.”
“I feel the same. Lately, I wish it was true more than ever. But it isn't and we have to deal with the new reality as best we can.”
“Clara, what's happened?” Simon asked simply.
She sighed and pushed herself back from the table. She stood up and walked to the window that overlooked the majority of the town, watching her people.
“You might have noticed our newest addition,” she said with a nod through the window.
Simon stood up and joined her. She gestured at the octagonal structure that had caught his eye earlier.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, I did. We saw it when we were up on the hill near the forest. What's it for?”
Clara rubbed the side of her face, her eyes fixed on the building.
“About a week ago, some hunters that were out looking for game reported finding several carcasses in the forest. They described them as mutilated, eviscerated, torn to pieces. These weren't normal kills from wolves or coyotes. We suspected that some new monster had moved into the area. So, naturally, Malcolm and Aiden went out to search for signs, see if they could discover what had been doing the killing and if it was a threat.”
Simon glanced at the cleric and watched as she closed her eyes tiredly and lowered her head.
“They were gone all day and most of the night. We weren't too concerned. I mean, two armored warriors with great skill and enchanted weapons? What could possibly hurt them?”
She turned and gestured for the wizard to sit down again. She followed and then took a long swallow of juice.
“They got back early the next morning, covered in blood and bleeding from several wounds.”
“They were attacked?”
“Yes. They had been on their way back to town, having seen no sign of whatever it was that was out there, when something jumped them from above. They couldn't see it clearly in the darkness. Malcolm said it was big, bigger than he is, which is saying something. It was hairy and it was all claws and fangs. It stank like an open sewer apparently. And it attacked like a mad thing, didn't even try to protect itself. Insane is the way Aiden described it.”
“They killed it?”
“Of course. But not before it scratched and bit them in several places. Even armor leaves gaps, I suppose. Malcolm had a deep gash on his forehead and Aiden had lost a glove during the battle and had been bitten on the hand.”
She shrugged.
“I healed them, of course, and that was the end of it. When they went back the next day to find the body, to identify the creature, it was gone.”
She stared intently at Simon.
“They swear that the thing was dead, and I believe them. So either it was removed by someone or something after the battle or...”
“Or? Or what?”
Instead of answering, Clara tapped one of the books.
“
In the lore that I've read, when a werewolf bites a victim and is then killed, it passes its curse on and is set free. In many of the stories, the corpse simply fades away, leaving no remains.”
“Hang on a second,” Simon said in disbelief. “Are you telling me that Malcolm and Aiden killed a werewolf? That's ridiculous.”
“I know it is. As ridiculous as dragons, liches and us.”
“But what makes you think that is what happened? And what's it got to do with that weird new building of yours?”
“The building was constructed several days ago, as an alternative to our only other solution.”
“Solution to what?”
She sighed again.
“To the problem of Malcolm and Aiden. The day after they returned, there was still a full moon. And they changed, Simon. Our friends are now werewolves. And if some of my people have their way, I'm going to have to kill them.”
Chapter 16
“Wait a second. Let me get this straight,” Simon said as he surged to his feet and began pacing around the room.
“You're telling me that Malcolm and Aiden are...werewolves?
Clara nodded, her expression filled with sadness.
“Oh, this is too weird. So they've been infected with this disease?”
“Correct.”
“And now, your precious townsfolk want to kill them? The same two people who have been guarding your town for months? The same men who have taught your people how to defend themselves? The same friends who volunteered to face dragons with me without even a moment's hesitation? Is that who they're now willing to slaughter like rabid animals?”
The wizard was becoming incensed and Kronk and Ana stared at him, wide-eyed. The water elemental actually moved backward across the table to be further away from him.
“Simon, calm yourself,” Clara said softly. “You're glowing.”
“I'm what?”
He stopped and stared at her, then looked down at his hands. She was right. In the dim room, his skin was suddenly luminescent and little sparks were snapping off of his fingertips.
He took a deep breath.
“Sorry. That's never happened before.”
He sat down again and clenched his fists in an effort to get his emotions under control.
“I understand your anger, Simon, believe me,” the cleric told him. “I share it. That's why I didn't contact you about this. I knew you would be upset. We all are. Why do you think we built that enclosure? The majority of the townspeople have no wish to harm either Malcolm or Aiden. And neither do I. We're looking for some solution.” She waved at the books. “Some cure or at least a way to control their transformations.”
“Okay. Sorry.” He breathed deeply for a moment. “I'm rather fond of those two big lunks.”
She managed a small chuckle.
“As am I. There has got to be a way out of this, short of driving a silver stake through their hearts.”
“Tell me what happened when they changed. Was anyone hurt or...or killed?”
“Thankfully no. They were both off-duty and asleep in the barracks at the time. Alone, fortunately. One of the watch heard howls and shrieks from inside the building, opened the door to see what was happening, and then had the good sense to slam it and seal it after her. She woke me up and explained what she'd seen and together we roused the town. Our blacksmith covered the door and windows with enough metal to keep them inside and, when the sun rose, they became themselves again.”
“And that's when you realized what had happened,” Simon said flatly.
She nodded.
“Exactly. At first, neither Malcolm or Aiden would believe us. Apparently they had no recollection of what had happened after they transformed. But the evidence spoke for itself. The barracks was torn apart, every stick of furniture ripped to splinters. They'd even dug great gashes in the walls and ceiling with their claws. It was rather convincing.”
“So how did they react when they accepted the story as fact?”
“They wanted us to kill them,” Clara said, her face twisted with something like grief. “Can you imagine? For the good of the town and its people, Malcolm said, they had to die. And there were several among us who thought that that was a splendid idea.”
Her tone was bitter.
“Did they? Well, they'd bloody well not mention it to me, or they'll get a taste of a wizard's anger.”
“Simon...”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. But how could someone condemn those two who've done so much for Nottinghill before even trying to help them?”
“Fear. It makes people do strange things sometimes. At any rate, they were voted down by a large majority and it was decided to construct the, well, let's call it a prison, for the time being until we could sort this out and find a solution.”
“But,” Simon frowned at her, “the full moon has passed, hasn't it? Are they still locked up?”
“They are. It's at their own request,” she added hastily as Simon's face darkened. “None of us are sure about werewolves.” She looked at the books again. “What's true and what isn't? Are they only a danger during the full moon? Could an accidental scratch from one of them when they are human pass on the disease? We simply don't know. I told them that they were free to go back to their duties once the full moon had passed, but they wouldn't hear of it. So here we are.”
She looked at the wizard and reached out to him, laying her hand on his.
“Simon, help us. Please. Perhaps you or the elementals can shed some light on this? We need more information and until we get it, Malcolm and Aiden will be prisoners.”
He patted her hand reassuringly and turned to look at Kronk and Ana.
“Any insights?” he asked.
“No, master, I am afraid not. I have certainly heard of these creatures, but no more than that.”
“That's okay,” Simon told the earthen. “What about you, Ana?”
“I have no information either, sir wizard,” she said with a regretful shake of her head. “However, I do have a suggestion.”
“I'm all ears.”
“The air elementals know more about magic than the rest of our kind. Not Aeris, necessarily, but one of his more powerful counterparts might have some ideas.”
Simon nodded and sucked on his lower lip as he stared at nothing in particular.
“Okay, then, let's try that.”
He turned to Clara, who was watching him rather hopelessly.
“Are you up for a visitation of sorts?”
“What kind of visitation?” she asked, eyes lighting up with interest.
“A summoning. I happen to be on decent terms with a fairly powerful air elemental. I don't know whether he can help with this or not, but I'd like to ask him. Hey, you never know, right?”
“Absolutely. I have no problem with that at all, Simon.”
“Good. Let's go into the main hall. His arrival can get a bit...windy.”
They all followed him into the large hall and Simon moved to stand next to the fire pit. He looked at Clara, who nodded encouragingly and cleared his throat.
“Okay, here goes. Let's hope he's in a good mood.”
He threw back his shoulders, grounded his staff firmly on the floor and took a deep breath.
“Aethos! I need to speak with you!”
Immediately they heard the high-pitched sound of swirling winds in the distance, followed by a rumble of thunder.
“Oh gees, here we go,” Simon said under his breath. “Watch your eyes, Clara,” he warned. “It could get a bit dusty in here.”
The cleric nodded and squinted, preparing for the onslaught.
The room was suddenly filled with violent winds carrying dried ashes from the fire pit, along with dust and some wood chips. Simon closed his eyes and mouth and waited for it to pass.
A few bits of debris hit his body and caught in his hair and then the air became still again. When the wizard opened his eyes, a tall, man-shaped figure that seemed to be made of twisting, whirling fog was
hovering over the pit, directly within the sunlight that beamed in from above.
“Good day, wizard,” the figure said in a voice that echoed around the room. “You wanted to discuss something?”
“Hello Aethos. I hope I haven't disturbed you?” Simon asked politely. It was never a good idea to anger an elemental this powerful.
“Not at all, not at all.” Aethos sounded positively cheerful and the wizard sagged a bit in relief. “So what can I do for you today?”
“My friend is the resident cleric here in town,” and he nodded at Clara as he spoke. Aethos gave her a slight bow.
“She and her people have a problem that we thought you might have some insight into. It concerns...werewolves.”
“Werewolves? Here? How interesting. What do you wish to know?”
Simon waved the cleric forward and she approached the air elemental, looking more hopeful at his response.
“What we need to know, Aethos, is whether there is a cure for this condition. Two of our people have been infected, you see, and we want to help them.”
The misty figure seemed to ponder the question. Usually Simon could see his expression, but for some reason, the elemental had chosen to appear faceless this time, with a gray fog swirling around where his features should be.
“Unfortunately, lady cleric, there is no cure for Lycanthropy, save death.” he said with what sounded like regret.
Clara gasped and clenched her hands tightly at her sides.
“You're sure of that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Quite sure. I am familiar with this condition from the old days of magic. There were actually colonies of lycanthropes back then, who lived far from human habitation. The problem was widespread.”
“Then there's no hope,” Clara said to Simon as she turned away, looking dejected. “I don't know what we're going to do now.”
She began to walk slowly back to her quarters.
“Wait, lady,” Aethos called after her. “Don't you want to know how to control the condition?”
The cleric stopped in her tracks and turned around to stare at him.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume One Page 99
