Golden Mane, Book One of The Adventures of Sarah Coppernick

by SJB Gilmour

  ‘Whoa!’ Mel remarked, emerging from her tent. ‘That was cool!’

  ‘That’s my line.’ Sarah changed into her human form and smiled at her friend.

  Mel gasped. ‘Sarah! Your hair!’ She quickly handed Sarah her own mirror, just like the one Sarah had found inside her own satchel. Sarah held it and was amazed at what she saw. Her blonde hair was smooth and shiny! It hadn’t looked so good since her Uncle Benjamin had touched it all those months ago.

  ‘Amazing what a bit of fresh air and good diet can do for a young wolf,’ Ronny observed from the front flap of his tent. He nodded at Sarah. ‘Been hunting, have you?’ He sniffed the air in front of her. ‘Rabbit?’

  Sarah nodded. ‘And hares. They look the same but they taste different.’

  Ronny nodded approvingly. ‘Rabbit liver is excellent for hair and nails. Did you see any deer?’

  Benjamin shook his head. ‘Rodents are the only things dumb enough to hang around when a volcano’s erupting,’ he told the busy little gnome.

  ‘Pity,’ Ronny remarked as he began preparing the fold-out camping tables and chairs for breakfast. ‘I never go anywhere without a meat-locker in my satchel. If I could just hang a deer carcase for a few days, we could all have a lovely venison barbecue.’

  Mel shivered in the cold. ‘Just a few days? It’d still be bloody. You sure you’re not a wraith?’

  Ronny grinned at her, showing his normal, even and fangless teeth. ‘A few weeks would be better, but we’re camping. A quick rub with hangrot mould and it’d age beautifully.’ He ducked back into his tent briefly then came back out with a large basket very nearly as wide as he was tall. It was stuffed full with fresh eggs, fruit, bacon, and loaves of thick, crusty bread and an enormous jug of freshly squeezed juice. He quickly fussed about, laying down a large red-and-white checked picnic mat near the fire and set about preparing breakfast.

  Sarah helped him and as she did, she told everyone what the forest had said about the trolls.

  ‘I’d wondered how they managed to keep running and stay dry at the same time,’ Angela observed. Poor tourists. Being eaten by trolls is a nasty way to go.’

  Just then a small portal appeared and Jimbo arrived, chattering wildly.

  ‘Wow!’ he crowed. ‘Did you see that volcano? Wow!’ he circled them, crowing and whistling. ‘I flew right up to it! What a show! Good old Klaus!’

  Sarah looked at the delirious little firedrake sternly. ‘That little show Klaus put on nearly buried us in molten rock!’ she said hotly. ‘We could have been killed!’

  Jimbo ignored her and continued to fly around them, hooting and crowing to himself. Ronny smiled slyly and laid out a metal bowl for Jimbo and then served up lots of fried eggs and bacon. As soon as Jimbo saw the food, he stopped crowing and settled down gracefully next to his bowl and politely waited for the others to start eating.

  Benjamin had also resumed his human form. ‘Well, a rabbit or two is fine for a wolf, but there’s one thing you don’t find out in the forest,’ he commented suggestively to Ronny.

  ‘Oh, Master McConnell? What would that be?’

  ‘Coffee, my good fellow,’ Benjamin replied. ‘I could murder a cup.’

  Ronny smiled and threw Sarah’s uncle a sly wink. He then nodded at the fire and a large black kettle appeared, along with the unmistakable aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

  After they had finished breakfast and packed up the camp, Sarah thanked the trees and they headed off again. It took them nearly two more days to catch up with the trolls. Finally, in the evening of the third day since Klaus had thrown his tantrum, and after travelling many kilometres deeper into the forest, Benjamin called a halt. He looked up at the sky. Thick grey clouds were threatening to burst any minute.

  ‘The scent’s so strong we must be almost on top of them,’ he told the group. ‘I’d say we’ve only got a few minutes between actually catching one of the trolls, and the storm appearing.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘You’re not going to do anything, cub,’ he told her shortly. ‘Leave it to me. Now I want all of you to stay here,’ he instructed them, then turned back and bounded away.

  The group waited patiently for about half an hour. When Benjamin reappeared in human form, he was carrying a very sorry-looking troll by the scruff of the neck. It was wearing the tattered remains of a large raincoat and mismatched gumboots. As soon as Benjamin dragged the troll within three metres of Sarah, a giant clap of thunder burst over their heads.

  ‘Easy,’ Angela told Mel. At the sight of the troll, Mel had gone from calm and patient to suddenly very, very angry. Her fists were clenched and was all ready to attack it. Angela held Mel’s shoulder quite firmly.

  ‘Angela, would you mind?’ Benjamin asked Angela, ignoring the piteous cries of the struggling troll.

  ‘Of course not,’ she replied, flashing him a dimply smile. Still holding Mel with one hand, she clicked her fingers of her free hand above the group then waved her index finger in a wide circle around them. A shimmering dome appeared above and around them just as the rain began to pour down. The heavy drops hit the clear surface and ran down the sides, so the group kept dry.

  ‘Thank you, my dear,’ Benjamin said urbanely.

  ‘Are there any more of them?’ Angela asked him. She finally let go of Mel who wriggled away from arm’s reach and was now glaring balefully at the troll.

  Benjamin shook his head briefly. Then he shook the troll as if it were no more than a bag of beans. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘There’s a river on the other side of that mountain. There’s an old loggers’ bridge that looks like it hasn’t been used in decades. I found them hiding under it. I figured we only needed one, so I gave the other two a bath. I brought this one back here to answer some questions. It’s the last one.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘One smells bad enough.’

  Benjamin fixed his terrible steel-grey eyes on the troll. ‘You…’ He shook the troll again. ‘You and I are going to talk.’ He then let the troll go and flicked his fingers at its clothes. ‘Ichtumblat!’ He used the Magaeic command for ‘take that thing over there!’ and the troll’s clothes went scattering out into he rain.

  The troll howled in fury and swiped at him viciously with poison-laden talons. Sarah and the others gasped as several bloody cuts appeared on his face and neck.

  Her uncle laughed. Sarah watched in amazement as the wounds closed and disappeared, then turned to witness the troll screaming in agony as the very cuts it had just inflicted upon Benjamin reappeared on its own face and neck.

  ‘Fool!’ Benjamin sneered. ‘Don’t you know of the curse of the Silver Shroud?’

  The troll writhed in pain as its own poison seeped into its veins. It collapsed onto the moist forest floor, and at the contact with the damp ground, its skin began to hiss and smoke. ‘What have you done to me?’ it cried.

  ‘The Silver Shroud curse is the cloak of death, fool,’ Benjamin told the dying troll scathingly. ‘Any wound you inflict on me is returned to you!’

  Sarah reeled as the true meaning of the curse laid upon her uncle was made painfully clear in front of her. The others shrank back to the edge of the shimmering dome.

  ‘Help me!’ the troll shrieked.

  ‘Only if you answer my questions,’ Benjamin replied, his steel-grey eyes flashing dangerously. The very air around him shimmered and sparked. ‘Talk and I’ll put an end to your suffering.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ The troll wailed.

  Benjamin smiled sadly. ‘You are going to die, servant of Miranda,’ he told the troll. ‘You can die as you are now, slowly and painfully. Or, you can answer my questions and if I like what I hear, your death will be quick.’

  The troll writhed and smoked on the moist ground for a moment, then finally gave in. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Miranda Molotov is your master, yes?’

  The troll nodded. ‘True. We serve her willi
ngly. She has come back to free us from the tyranny of the Sorcerers’ Guild.’

  ‘And she is accompanied by Gretel Grimm and Heather Gint?’

  ‘Not Gint,’ the troll said. ‘She disobeyed Miranda and was killed. I myself feasted upon her ankle.’

  ‘Good,’ Angela murmured. ‘Never trust anyone who’s named after a weed.’

  Sarah whined in revulsion. Benjamin however, didn’t blink. ‘And where do we find Miranda now?’

  The troll shrugged painfully. ‘Troll Mountain!’ it cried. ‘Please, I can stand no more!’ The troll’s struggling was getting weaker. Great blotches of its skin were smoking now.

  ‘One more question,’ said Benjamin. ‘What does Miranda want with Sarah Coppernick?’

  ‘You should know!’ the troll cried, desperately clawing itself to its feet. ‘But you’ll get no more from me!’ It screamed and leaped past the protective shimmering dome into the howling storm. The rain pelted down upon it and steam and fire burst from its skin.

  ‘Back!’ Angela advised them. ‘This is going to be messy.’

  The troll collapsed into a smoking heap on the forest floor. Its skin fizzled and burned away. Then it began to swell. The others backed away cautiously. The more the writhing troll squirmed and burned, the more it swelled. Then, like an enormous, reeking and putrid water balloon, it burst. Foul, stinking goo splattered outwards in every direction for several metres. Fortunately, none of it got on Sarah or the others.

  The rain continued to pour down until all the mess had been dissolved. A few minutes later, there was nothing left at all but a few wisps of acrid smoke hanging in the air.

  ‘Hope it hurt, ya bastard,’ Mel muttered vindictively.

  ‘What did it mean?’ Sarah asked, cocking her head to one side.

  ‘That I should know why Miranda wants you?’ Benjamin asked.

  Sarah wagged her tail.

  He looked at his niece sadly. ‘Before Miranda was imprisoned underneath the mountain, we set wards on the place to limit her powers. Rufus had me write in a fail-safe before he used the spells. If Miranda were to break free, breaking the wards would also severely reduce her powers. There are only a few ways she can get them back. One of them is a fairly nasty spell involving the scalp of a full-blood werewolf of Rufus’ strength. He’s missing. Either Miranda used him to get her powers back, or she’s after you. Since we know he’s not dead…’

  Sarah growled in anger.

  ‘No!’ Mel cried, forgetting all her urge to exact revenge upon the trolls. ‘She can’t!’

  ‘Why?’ Sarah asked flatly. She began pacing like a caged animal.

  Angela looked at Sarah with a sad smile. ‘Benjamin wrote the spells,’ she explained, ‘but even he wasn’t strong enough to use them. Only Rufus had that much power. Even with his power, using the spells to secure Molotov, Gint and Grimm nearly killed him. Once he recovered, he held absolute control over the Guild. No-one would dare cross him. Except me,’ she added as a bitter afterthought.

  Sarah looked up at her teacher and changed back into her human self. ‘What?’

  ‘You know I’m divorced?’

  Sarah nodded and fished in her pocket for a doggy choc. She popped it into her mouth absently. Mel held her hand out for one.

  ‘Well, there’s a bit more to the story, I’m afraid. My husband and I weren’t exactly suited to each other when we married. We used to fight a lot. Anyway, Rufus tried to counsel my husband and me, but I was too headstrong and didn’t listen. I was very angry and I did something he had expressly forbidden witches from doing.’

  ‘And?’ Sarah urged.

  Angela’s eyes began to tear over and her face became flushed. She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a pristine white handkerchief. Then she reached out and took one of Sarah’s doggy chocolates as well.

  ‘I used dark sorcery to alter my husband’s mind, to make him not love me anymore. Then I demanded a divorce, which he agreed to.’

  Mel stepped forward and put one hand on her aunt’s shoulder. Even Jimbo crooned sympathetically.

  Sarah didn’t understand. ‘So?’ she asked.

  ‘Those sorts of spells are only temporary at best,’ Angela explained. ‘When my husband recovered his mind, he realised what had happened and appealed to the Guild. Rufus had no choice but to expel me. If he hadn’t been forced to deal with my wrongdoing, he might have let it slide. But, he was forced to acknowledge the problem and so he had to deal with it in the way he himself had decreed. A few years after that, he abdicated and left The Guild. Nobody’s seen him since.’

  ‘What happened to your husband?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘You’ve met him already.’

  Sarah cocked her head to one side, quite well aware just how odd it was for a human to make such a wolfish gesture. ‘Have I? Who is he?’

  ‘Marzdane. Chairman of the Sorcerers’ Guild.’ Angela’s voice was as cold as the forest air.

  The silence was uncomfortable until Sarah stepped forward to change the subject. ‘Alright, alright!’ she began. ‘So we know we were right. This Miranda person is behind the troll attacks. She probably can’t find this Rufus character, or is too scared to come up against him again, so she’s after the only other Golden Mane around, right? Me.’

  ‘Sounds right,’ Angela agreed. ‘Go on, Sarah.’

  ‘And we know where she is, right?’

  ‘That’s right, Sarah,’ said Benjamin.

  ‘There’s more,’ she continued. ‘The Guild is being run by Angela’s ex,’

  ‘Who’s still pi…’ Mel went to add. Her aunt glanced at her chidingly. Mel looked up guiltily. ‘Peeved,’ she finished.

  Sarah tried not to grin. ‘They’ve kicked you out, Uncle, so they’re not going to be any help. I think we should try and find your friend Rufus. Maybe he knows what’s going on?’

  ‘What about the trolls?’ Ronny asked.

  ‘It’s alright, Ronny,’ Sarah told him tightly. ‘We can manage the trolls. The only thing they’re after is me. So long as we all stick together, we won’t have to find them. They’ll find us. We can deal with them as they come along. And remember, I’ve got the perfect troll detection device!’

  ‘That’s something we don’t fully understand yet, Sarah,’ her uncle Robert told her wisely. ‘Carrying around a hex isn’t the safest thing to do. It could come unstuck when you need it most and we could find ourselves surrounded by a thousand trolls.’

  Sarah thought about this. ‘Well,’ she decided. ‘That’s a risk we’re going to have to take. I don’t know what this curse or hex or whatever you call it is either, or how long it’s going to work. All I know is, whenever I get close to a troll, it starts to rain. The only time I didn’t actually see the troll was the first time it happened. I did smell it, though, and that was bad enough.’ She looked at Robert and Roberta. ‘Didn’t you smell it then too?’

  Robert shook his head. ‘Human parks always smell disgusting,’ he replied with a shrug.

  ‘What did you see?’ Benjamin asked her.

  Sarah scratched her head. ‘There was no-one around, remember? I saw one person in a long coat at the end of the park…’ Sarah paused as she remembered. ‘He was looking at us!’ she remembered.

  ‘It could have been him,’ mused Roberta. ‘But that was a long way away. Was there anyone closer? Did you see anything else?’

  ‘Just a big cat across the road,’ Sarah said. ‘It jumped in a window when it started to rain.’

  ‘Cat? What cat?’ Robert asked intently.

  ‘A big grey cat,’ said Sarah. ‘It looked at us and hissed when you changed into wolves. Then the rain came and it ran inside. But the scent I smelled was coming from the bushes.’

  Benjamin began pacing. ‘Damn cats!’ he muttered. ‘If I had my way, there’d still be a bounty on ‘em!’

  ‘What?’ Sarah demanded incredulously. She didn’t like cats, certainly, but she’d never felt like hurting them.

  ‘The British had the right idea,
’ he growled. ‘Until Seventeen Twelve, they used to execute them.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Everyone knows cats are in league with the Egyptian underworld. They’re the Guardians of the Dead. Dark sorcery and mischief are second nature to them. They’re trouble. Take Queen Guinevere for example.’

  Sarah looked at him blankly.

  ‘She was actually a cat who changed into human form just to stir up trouble. She got Lancelot into all kinds of grief. Gave him a nasty rash too, I heard.’ Then her uncle smiled at her and held up one finger. ‘Don’t confuse ordinary cats with werecats. Werecats aren’t the ill-bred little rodents mortals keep as pets. They’re much larger. Lions, tigers, jaguars and the like.’

  Sarah shook her head in an effort to take everything in. ‘Okay, so what we need to do now is find this Rufus character. What do you think?’

  ‘I think you should give us some more of that chocolate,’ Ronny told her, holding out his stubby little hand. ‘I don’t care what animal the mortals reckon it’s for. It tastes good.’

  Benjamin chuckled at Ronny then turned back to Sarah. ‘Sarah, I told you, finding a Golden Mane who doesn’t want to be found is impossible.’

  Feeling very frustrated, Sarah felt her temper beginning to slip. Before she could explode, Ronny waved one hand while he covered his mouth with the other while he swallowed a mouthful of chocolate.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he announced. ‘If you need to find Master Rufus, why don’t you just ask Wolfenvald where he is?’ Then he burped.

  ‘We’ve tried,’ Benjamin said wearily. ‘Wolfenvald hasn’t seen fit to answer any of us, no matter who asks. Scrying doesn’t work either.’

  Ronny frowned. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, Sir, who has asked?’

  Benjamin shrugged. ‘As far as I can tell, the leader of just about every werewolf pack has asked the forest at one time or another. ‘Browns, Blacks, Reds and Whites. Even the Greys have asked. I’ve asked myself, so that makes all the orders. The forest hasn’t answered any of us.’

  ‘Has a Golden Mane enquired?’ Ronny pressed. ‘Maybe this home world of yours will only answer an enquiry of this nature by one of the same order.’