by Sarah Noffke
“That’s where most fail, I suspect,” Lightning said, eyeing Inferno with disgust as he blasted another piece of meat.
“Do you know how it’s done?” Azure thought it would be a longshot to ask a weredragon for the solution, but she was more than desperate.
“I do not,” she replied. “However, there is a witch named Dolly who knows.”
Azure wondered how this weredragon who had never left Lancothy could know such a thing. We’re all connected, Micky said in her mind.
Right, Azure thought. The dragons seemed to share a universal mind, which was akin to how she was connected to everything through the Howling Willow.
“Dolly…” Azure repeated. “Where do I find this witch?”
“I do not have an answer to that,” Lightning said.
Azure nodded and thanked the weredragon for what she had offered, then excused herself from the table. She needed to get away from the blistering heat in the room and find some fresh air. Her head swam from the warmth, and the impossible task of finding a witch on Oriceran knowing only her name. Even the Howling Willow needed more than that to supply information.
~~~
“The officials will see you now,” the weredeer said, pointing to a room at the end of the hallway.
“Did you bring a presentation, because I was just going to wing this whole thing?” Monet said to Ever. The young wizard was trying to lighten the mood, since he increasingly felt like they were walking into a trap. They’d ambled farther and farther into this stone building, earning contemptuous stares from all they passed. There was nothing stopping one of the wereanimals from attacking them and imprisoning them forever. Monet cringed at the idea of having to eat wereanimal food, since he was pretty certain the kitchen staff weren’t required to wear hairnets.
“All we have to do is state the facts,” Ever said, always the voice of reason.
“Facts. Sure,” Monet said, sliding through the door into a surprisingly bright room. It was long, and lined with windows. Behind a table were three cantankerous faces. Wereturtles. The officials were all reptiles with hard shells. Their saggy green skin made them look especially old.
“I like the color of your shells,” Monet said, striding forward and pointing to his hair, which was the same shade.
“Where is the queen of Virgo, and who are you?” the turtle on the left asked, taking an exceptionally long time to deliver the question.
“Queen Azure sent us, and asked that we make a request of your government,” Ever said, once again at Monet’s side.
“The queen of Virgo is in no position to make requests. We only allowed her entry because council rules required it,” the middle turtle said.
“There’s an epidemic of vampirism spreading through Oriceran,” Ever told them. “We have reason to believe that vampires will be entering the caves of Lancothy to capture the bats that reside there.”
“That is no concern of ours,” the wereturtle on the right said.
“It should be,” Monet exclaimed, “because if vampirism spreads, all your people…errr, animals could be bitten.”
“We have no magic, and therefore cannot be changed,” the first turtle said.
“No, but you can be bitten and die from the virus,” Monet stated. “I’ve heard that it eats at your insides until internal bleeding swamps your organs, and then you die an excruciatingly painful death.”
All three turtles sucked their heads into their shells, probably to hide from the thought of such an end.
“An epidemic of vampirism is a problem for all of us,” Ever said calmly.
“Could a vampire even enter our land?” one turtle poked its head out to ask the others.
“They aren’t living, so I assume they can,” the middle one replied after deliberating for what seemed like an hour.
“We’re trying to find a way to protect the bats or move them back to Earth where they came from,” Ever cut in. “Until then, we need your help with guarding them. We’re outnumbered, but you could help us.”
“How can we help?” one of the officials asked.
“We need guards at both entrances of the cave,” Ever explained.
“Impossible,” the first turtle retorted. “That would require one of our residents to leave Lancothy. That’s forbidden.”
“That’s another part of the problem,” Ever stated. “Vampires could enter Lancothy at night. Since the werewolves own the night, that presents a huge problem.”
“What do you propose we do about that, Light Elf?” asked the turtle in the middle. They all looked exactly the same, down to the spectacles they wore on their pointed faces.
“It’s fairly straight forward,” Monet said. “The shaman who cursed Lancothy said that as long as the wereanimals cut themselves off from the rest of Oriceran this land would remain out of balance. Seems pretty simple to me.”
The turtles ever so slowly looked at each other. “We’re not following you,” the one on the left said.
Monet suppressed the condescending sigh that was longing to spill from his mouth. “Open your borders. Leave Lancothy. Break your curse.”
Loud gasps shot from the officials’ mouths before their heads disappeared back into their shells.
“Oh, come on, guys!” Monet complained. “It’s beautiful and bright out there in the world. You have no idea what you’re missing.”
“We know we’re missing nothing,” boomed a voice behind them. There was a giant werebear standing squarely in the entrance, his body entirely blocking the door.
~~~
Laurel gritted her teeth and hit two stones together, but frustratingly it only produced a small spark. Again. For ten minutes she’d been trying to light the torch Manx had helped her make.
A commotion echoed down the tunnel and Laurel turned, squinting. She could see well in the dark but not well enough to locate all the bats, since the animals blended into the cave so well.
She registered Blisters speeding in their direction. The unicorn collided with her, knocking her down on her back. His hooves pressed sharply into her side as he tried to push his head under Laurel’s body.
“Blisters, what’s gotten into you?” Laurel asked, shoving him off her. She rubbed her arms, which the scared unicorn had nearly trampled. Thank goodness he wasn’t that large, or they’d all be dead by now.
“Th-th-there’s something in the cave,” Blisters stuttered.
Laurel and Manx exchanged nervous glances. “Is it a vampire?” Manx asked. He was in his dog form.
Blisters shook his head, his rainbow mane swinging into his face. “No. It’s a-a-a unicorn named ‘Scabs.’”
Laurel couldn’t help it. A laugh erupted from her mouth. It made her feel better that Manx joined her, laughing and barking at the same time.
“I’m serious, guys,” Blisters said. “I saw him. He has black hair and a black mane, and his eyes were black. And get this…even his horn was black.”
Manx abruptly stopped laughing and looked quite serious. “I have a question.”
“Yes?” Blisters asked. “What?”
“What color were his hooves? Don’t tell me they were black too?” Manx asked, overcome by more laughter.
“This is serious, guys. This unicorn said he was my shadow and h-h-he sort of growled at me. I have a feeling he wants to hurt me,” Blisters said.
“Growled at you?” Manx asked. “Why didn’t you say so before! That seems pretty serious.”
“I told you it was,” Blisters said breathlessly.
Manx turned to Laurel. “Sounds like you should go start a cat-fight. Hiss at that growling unicorn.”
Laurel shook her head. “Blisters, we don’t have time for these games. We’re trying to start a fire so we can see the bats.”
“Oh, was that why you were trying to start a fire, little kitty?” Manx said, laughing again.
“Yes, and you’re the one who made the torch,” Laurel said, pointing at the stick on the ground.
“My bad,” Manx
said. “I just thought you were cold.” He shifted into his stallion form, which took up most of the space, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. His eyes shone like beacons, casting a pure white light.
“Are you kidding me, Manx?” Laurel asked. “You forgot to tell me that you had built-in lights?”
“Oops,” Manx said, not at all sounding remorseful.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The damp air outside in the courtyard of the castle was a welcome change from the stuffy room where the weredragons sat devouring their meat. Azure thought about checking on Micky, but decided that she had better not draw attention to the dragon, who had stationed herself at the entrance of the castle. Micky seemed to know what she was doing.
Instead Azure took this rare moment alone to relax. Settling herself down on a bale of hay, she closed her eyes and listened to the rhythm of her breathing. Reynolds, when he was her tutor, had taught her about mini-meditations. The wizard had encouraged Azure to take timeouts to center her thoughts.
“If you can find a quiet space in your head, usually you’ll find there are answers written there,” Reynolds had once told her.
“I know where to find Dolly,” a squeaky voice said in her head.
Wow, this meditation business is great, Azure thought. She had never found an answer so fast before. Usually she had to really settle into her practice.
“Psst… Did you hear me?” asked the voice again, tickling her ear.
Wait, it wasn’t in her head. Azure opened her eyes to find the courtyard empty. She stared around, trying to find where the voice had come from.
Something zipped in front of her face.
Buzz. Buzz.
Azure swiped her hand through the air to swat the horsefly as she continued to try to find the source of the voice.
“Hey, stop it,” the voice yelled. “I’m trying to help you, you ungrateful queen.”
Azure halted and her eyes crossed as she homed in on what was buzzing just in front of her face, as she leaned back it came into focus. Floating in the air was a tiny man of sorts. He had giant pointy ears, whiskers like Laurel’s, and was wearing a brown suit like Gillian’s—but the strangest part was that the small man was riding a large horse fly. It hovered in place briefly before circling around and landing on the hay bale next to Azure.
“What are you?” Azure asked, scooting off the bale onto the ground so her chin was even with the small man and his fly. It had been outfitted with a harness, from which the man dismounted.
“I’m Pedgit, the brownie,” the tiny man said, bowing slightly.
“Brownie?” Azure asked. She’d read about those—mythical creatures who cleaned cottages in exchange for biscuits and honey. “I didn’t think brownies were real.”
Pedgit slapped the fly on its side, and it lifted into the air and flew away. “You just dined with hungry weredragons and you’re questioning my existence?”
Azure squinted at the man. He was about the size of a thimble, with rosy cheeks and disheveled hair under his lopsided cap. “Sorry, that doesn’t make any sense. I just didn’t know that brownies were… Well, I always thought you were fairytales.”
Pedgit puffed out his chest. “Real, we are.” He swept his arm at the courtyard. “Who do you think is responsible for the upkeep of this castle?”
“You are?” Azure asked.
“And a dozen other brownies, so I can’t take all the credit. Lord knows they’ll hear about it if I try.” Pedgit settled onto his knees and began digging into the hay bale, looking for something.
“Oh, well, I’m sure the weredragons are really grateful for your help,” Azure said, watching the strange little man.
Pedgit pulled his hand from the hay and shook his head. “They don’t know we even exist. It’s the brownie’s job to serve and we do it without compliment or payment, although we might nick a bit of food and drink here and there.”
“I’m sure that’s a reasonable exchange,” Azure said, watching as the brownie sank his hand into another spot in the hay bale.
“Where on Oriceran did I put that?” Pedgit asked, feeling around deep into the hay. “I know I stuffed some a Chianti in here.”
“What are you looking for?” Azure asked.
Pedgit pulled out a small bottle, triumph on his face. “Here it is,” he said, uncorking it and taking a long drink. “And I’m here because you’re looking for something, or rather someone.”
“Dolly, the witch,” Azure guessed. “You heard that conversation?”
Pedgit nodded, hiccupping as he took another sip of red wine. “I did indeed.”
“And you know where to find her?”
“I’ve cared for many homes across Oriceran and Earth in my time,” Pedgit stated, sitting down and getting comfortable with his bottle. Azure thought she might sneeze from the hay, but held it in. One sneeze from this distance would probably end her new friendship forever.
“I’m most grateful for your help,” Azure said, thinking that she’d finally gotten a lucky break. “Where can I find Dolly?”
“Las Vegas,” the brownie chirped.
“Las-what?” Azure asked. “Where on Oriceran is that?”
“It isn’t. It’s on Earth.” Pedgit drained the bottle and immediately got onto his hands and knees to dig into the hay bale again. He was teetering a bit by now.
“Oh,” Azure said. “Where in Las—”
“Vegas. Las Vegas,” Pedgit completed her sentence. “You’ll find Dolly at the Graceland Wedding Chapel. That’s where she works now, or did the last time I checked. I used to clean her house, but the desert air in Las Vegas was too dry for my skin so I returned to Oriceran.”
“Graceland Wedding Chapel,” Azure repeated, trying to lock in the name of the place so she could remember it later.
“There it is.” Pedgit pulled another full bottle of red wine from the inside of the hay bale. Who knew how many he had hidden in there—or elsewhere in the castle.
“This Dolly…she knows how to contain the essence of true love?” Azure asked.
“I’d think so,” Pedgit said, spilling a bit down his front as he uncorked the wine. He leaned forward and looked around as if he were trying to ensure they weren’t overheard. “She’s a love expert.”
“Just the person I need to see,” Azure said, her thoughts crushed by a sudden flash of Ever.
~~~
Ever took several steps back at the sight of the giant werebear. The last time he’d met Lorde, who was the leader of a rebel group of wereanimals, the bear had tried to murder him and Azure.
“Lorde, we’ve got this under control,” one of the turtles said.
The werebear thundered toward Ever and Monet. He stood at least nine feet tall, and wore leather armor that was tied together with wire. His teeth were bared.
“You cowards can handle nothing,” Lorde boomed, blowing hot rank air over Ever and Monet and the turtles behind them.
To Ever’s surprise Monet stepped forward, hand extended. “Monet Torrance at your service. I’m the Potions Master for Virgo, and have a wide assortment of breath-refreshing formulas that you might find handy.”
“Wizard, you don’t belong here.” Lorde picked Monet up by his robes, holding him high in the air.
Unflustered, Monet said, “Actually, the ones who don’t belong here are all of you. If you left this mountain the werewolf problem would go away, we could guard the bats, and the world of Oriceran would open its arms wide to your uniqueness.”
Lorde threw Monet toward the door, but he disappeared before he hit it and reappeared in front of Lorde. “That wasn’t very nice. I’m trying to help you.”
Lorde blinked down at the wizard, his eyes crossing. “How did you do that?”
“It’s called ‘magic,’ but don’t hurt your big dumb brain with it,” Monet spat.
“Monet,” Ever warned.
“How dare you?” Lorde reached forward for Monet again but he stepped to the side, so this time the bear grabbed Ever and hel
d him above his head. Ever was just about to create a spell to disable his attacker when he slammed to the ground. Lorde was on his side, having been hit by something.
“Staying inside the mountain of Lancothy is no way to live,” Monet lectured the wereanimals, pointing his wand at the werebear who was scrambling to get back up. Ropes sprang from Monet’s wand and wrapped around Lorde’s arms and ankles. Ever stood up and cast a disarming spell to make Lorde less resistant. When he was fully restrained, the three wereturtles joined them in front of the powerless werebear.
“This is quite unorthodox,” one of the turtles said.
“You’ve been allowing Lorde to bully you,” Ever stated, looking down at the officials.
“He’s right that the world outside Lancothy will judge us harshly. He wants to wage war on anyone who is different from us,” the first turtle said.
“And how does that make you any different from those who ostracize you?” Ever asked.
“That’s why we have remained inside Lancothy. We’re safe here. It’s the right thing for all, because inside the mountain we are at peace,” the second turtle said.
“It might be the safe thing to do, but no one can live a full life in Lancothy—not you, and not the werewolves. The only option is to leave, and liberate yourself from the restraints your ancestors imposed,” Ever said, his voice getting more intense as he spoke.
“We’ve heard your request, but we cannot honor it,” the third turtle said, shaking his head. “Our ways preserve us. They keep us safe.”
“But when you live in a mountain, it only takes one eruption to blow everything up,” Monet argued, a new intensity in his eyes.
Lorde fought against the spell, turning his head to the side with venom in his eyes. “Our ways have served us. We will not subject ourselves to the judgments of others—not without a war.”
Ever shook his head. “What you all fail to see is that war is coming. And because you’ve either stuck your head in the sand or chosen violence as a solution, you’ll be ill-prepared when the enemy strikes.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
