The Howl of Avooblis

by Charles Streams

  “What?” Earl asked, confused.

  “It’s not just an enchanted hoe. It’s his staff,” Elloriana explained.

  “A staff? Are you sure?” Earl’s mouth dropped open in amazement.

  “At first I didn’t think so, but it has to be. It does way more than just cast spells. It obeys Wendahl.”

  “Who cares?” Dagdron said.

  “Dagdron, magical staffs are extremely rare. Only the most powerful enchanters have them. First they have to find a tree that calls to them in nature, and then the magic spell to form the staff is extremely difficult,” Earl said, looking at Elloriana for confirmation.

  “Those are the basics,” Elloriana said. “But it’s a little more complex than that.”

  “Even Headmaster Gwauldron doesn’t have one,” Earl added.

  “Who cares? What’s your point?” Dagdron said.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just glad Wendahl’s on our side,” Elloriana said.

  “We’re all happy he’s on our side,” Earl said supportively. “Don’t let Dagdron get to you. You know how exciting Wendahl’s magic is to me and Lita.”

  “At least someone appreciates it.” Elloriana scowled at Dagdron before ducking to exit the cavern.

  Chapter 22: The Cauldron in the Cabin

  Dagdron slipped a note and a pouch with the sparkling jasper stones in it to Wendahl on his next visit to the cave. His dad had gone outside the cave for some fresh air, but Egon, even in the middle of a conversation with Earl about sword fighting against magic users, glanced at the transaction. Wendahl pocketed the pouch, acting as if it were nothing, and quickly read the accompanying note, which explained the encounter with Rance, Kas, and Wally.

  “Have you seen any sign of the Backer lately?” Earl asked Egon.

  “I’ve been patrolling the area since the Winter Carnival, but he hasn’t shown himself,” Egon said. “Wendahl’s been keeping you busy enough to stay out of trouble, it appears.”

  “Your jealousy is uncalled for,” Wendahl said. “I’ve had a relationship with these boys much longer than you have. It’s completely understandable why they enjoy associating with me more than with you.”

  Egon, seated on the floor, still flexed his muscles intimidatingly toward Wendahl but didn’t reply.

  Later that night, an hour or so after Earl had stopped humming in bed, the door to their bedroom creaked open. Dagdron heard the squeak of the hinges but pretended that he was still asleep on the floor. He silently slid his hand to his dagger, listening to the movements of the intruder. Dagdron waited until heard the creak of the door closing, then he jumped up and brandished his dagger.

  “It’s me!” Wendahl whispered urgently, holding his hoe horizontally to block Dagdron’s attack.

  Dagdron changed the direction of his stab so it missed the enchanter. Then he lay back down without saying anything.

  “Didn’t you know I was coming?” Wendahl said. He limped to Dagdron’s bed and sat down, lighting the end of his hoe so he could see the rogue lying at his feet. “I winked at you in the cave to give you a clue.”

  Dagdron’s scowl was illuminated in magenta light.

  “Only four more months of pure joy,” Earl mumbled from his bed before letting out a sad sounding moan.

  “Is he awake?” Wendahl asked.

  “No,” Dagdron said, closing his eyes.

  Wendahl leaned his hoe against the bedpost and lifted his robe, exposing his legs. Dagdron squinted his eyes to see the enchanter rubbing the large, black bruise on his left thigh. Wendahl suddenly shifted his eyes, looking at Dagdron as he dropped his robe over his legs.

  “Were you serious about being my garden rogue?” Wendahl asked.

  “Maybe during the summer,” Dagdron said, closing his eyes again.

  “I don’t want to prevent you from being an adventurer, but I might need to take the summer off if I want my leg to heal properly.”

  “What did you do to it again?” Dagdron asked.

  “I was chasing Farmer Jersey, and I tripped in the corn and my hoe gouged my leg. It would be great to be young again. Perhaps that’s why I’ve enjoyed associating with you and Earl and the others. Makes me feel young.”

  “Dagdron, you just have to be an adventurer,” Earl muttered before groaning.

  “Now is he awake?”

  “No,” Dagdron said. But this time, he stood up and moved to shake Earl until he woke up.

  “What’s going on?” the warrior said tiredly.

  “Wendahl’s here to see you.” Dagdron lay back down on the floor and closed his eyes.

  Earl rolled over, blinking his eyes in the magenta light, but then he sat up with a smile.

  “I came to get the details about your encounter with Rance,” Wendahl said.

  Earl, even groggy, was content to tell the story about how Dagdron and Elloriana had been captured and the conversation Dagdron had had about the arches and then to give a lively version of the rescue.

  “I thought there might have been a possibility that Rance was the Backer, but I guess not,” Wendahl said. “As long as he doesn’t find out the specifics about the treasure quest, I don’t think he’ll bother us. He might give Gwydion some trouble, though.” Wendahl smiled at the thought.

  “Did the magic rocks work?” Earl asked. “That spell from the note was ingenious.”

  “It was some mighty fine magic,” Wendahl said, grabbing his hoe and twirling it. The blade hit one of the bedposts and took a chunk out of it. “The jasper stones are perfect, and now we only need one more thing to complete the net.”

  Earl waited expectantly and Dagdron opened his eyes.

  “We need the antlers from a snow stag,” Wendahl said.

  “Oh, good,” Dagdron said. “Earl and Lita can go kill one.” He closed his eyes again.

  “Dagdron, you don’t kill snow stags. They’re pure creatures.” Earl, worried, looked at Wendahl. “Why do we need those for the net?”

  “We’re making a net to hold a being of pure evil. The strands of the net need to imbibe the purity of the stag antlers if we have any chance of offsetting Avooblis.”

  “But we can’t kill snow stags,” Earl repeated.

  “I know, but, unfortunately, you’re not going to like the alternative, either.” Wendahl, smiling, waited until Dagdron opened his eyes before continuing. “I know someone who has some.”

  “The witch in the woods?” Earl said, his mouth dropping open.

  “Forget it,” Dagdron said. “The quest is over. There’s no way I’m going back there. Seeing that wart once was more than enough.”

  “It really is big, isn’t it?” Wendahl said, nodding his head toward the rogue.

  “Are you sure she has snow stag antlers?” Earl said. “Maybe Dagdron saw them hanging from her yard ropes, but I didn’t see any.”

  “There weren’t any. You’ll have to kill one,” Dagdron said.

  “Gretta’s snow stag antlers are inside her house,” Wendahl said.

  “Inside?” Earl said fearfully. “We barely got in her yard. I don’t think even Dagdron can break into her house.”

  “And that’s why I’m willing to make the greatest sacrifice,” Wendahl said. He paused, letting the tension mount and waiting for Dagdron to open his eyes again. Dagdron purposely kept them closed until Wendahl nudged him with his foot. “I’m taking Gretta on a winter date, wart and all.”

  “Gross,” Dagdron said.

  Wendahl nodded. “You’ll have a very short time frame, since I don’t know how long the date can last, but it still should be enough to get in the house and get out with the antlers.”

  “We’ll do it!” Earl said excitedly.

  “Gross,” Dagdron repeated.

  Wendahl sighed but didn’t say anything as the rogue closed his eyes for good.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe we’re here again,” Elloriana said.

  She, Dagdron, Earl, and Lita were huddled together in the forest, where they had a vi
ew of the witch in the woods’s house. They had waited until the first weekend of February, allowing two weeks of normalcy, hoping any suspicions of Dugan, the headmaster, or anyone else might be abated. The house itself was square and simple with a thatched roof, but the yard was extremely creepy. A steep rock face served as the backdrop to the house, preventing strangers approaching from that direction, and the fence blocking the front was made of wooden posts that had been carved with spikes at the top and laced with sticky slime to deter climbers. Ropes were strung over the yard with jars hanging from them that contained plants and other magical substances, as well as a variety of body parts from different creatures.

  The group watched with only the occasional commentary from Earl and Elloriana until Wendahl appeared along the pathway leading to the house, using his hoe as a walking stick.

  “Finally,” Dagdron said.

  Wendahl pulled open the two-log gate and slipped into the yard, crossing cautiously. He tapped on the door with his hoe, and it opened. Even from a distance, the young adventurers could see the smile on Gretta’s face as she fluffed her gray hair and linked her arm with Wendahl’s.

  “Disgusting,” Dagdron said. “You can see the wart from here.”

  “Dagdron, stop,” Earl said but, when Elloriana giggled, he lost his composure and let out a small chuckle. Lita remained stone faced as usual. “How would you feel if you had a huge wart on your nose and everyone made fun of it?”

  “I don’t have one, and I’ll never have one,” Dagdron said. “Wendahl told us last year that she got it trying to make herself more beautiful. It’s her fault.”

  “Just stop pointing it out, okay? If you’re going to start commenting more, you have to at least say positive things,” Earl said. Elloriana laughed again and Earl smiled, so he turned away from Dagdron.

  Wendahl and Gretta were just reaching the gate, and Wendahl stepped to the side, allowing her to exit first. As she did so, Wendahl made a swift movement with his hoe and a magenta light zoomed across the yard and hit the front door. Once out of the yard, Wendahl led Gretta to the west for their evening out.

  Dagdron forced the other three to remain still until he felt sure the couple was out of earshot, and then they crept forward to the fence. They couldn’t help glancing upward at the jars hanging above them, but since it was dark, at least they couldn’t see any of the horrid contents.

  Dagdron quietly stepped to the door first and tested the latch to see if Wendahl’s spell had worked. It had, and Dagdron pushed open the door. The one-room house was cluttered with all sorts of magical items on shelves, on the floor, or hanging from the ceiling. The witch’s frumpy bed was in one corner and a large cauldron holding bubbling magenta fluid was in another. A strange-looking male mannequin dressed in ragged clothing and with multicolored lumps and bumps on its arms, legs, and face was posed against one wall.

  While Dagdron, undistracted, set about searching for the snow stag antlers, Earl and Lita approached the cauldron, peering into the bright-colored brew. Elloriana rummaged around a bit near the mannequin but then, for some reason attracted by the repulsiveness, she examined the dummy up close. She wondered what sorts of spells and potions the witch had used on the mannequin to make it look so real. Then the eyes blinked.

  Elloriana let out a bloodcurdling scream as she backed away from the mannequin. On her way, she tripped over a stained ottoman and fell backward. Earl had rushed forward to assist her but didn’t reach her in time to catch her. Instead, Elloriana banged into Earl’s feet, which sent him stumbling backward into the shelves near the cauldron, and he landed on his rump. The jars rattled loudly from the impact and everyone froze, watching and waiting, but none of the items fell.

  “Sorry,” Earl said. He grabbed hold of one of the shelves to pull himself to his feet and, as he did so, the left side collapsed, sending the jars sliding toward the corner where the cauldron was.

  Dagdron, Elloriana, and Lita watched in horror as Earl desperately tried to push the shelf back up. He was too late. Four or five jars containing blue and purple substances crashed into the wall and fell into the cauldron, adding their viscous, oozy contents to the mixture. Everyone froze again with their eyes on the cauldron. For a moment, they thought the brew wasn’t affected, but then the magenta concoction, now streaked with blue and purple, began to froth over the edge of the cauldron.

  “Earl, what do the stag antlers look like?” Dagdron asked.

  “They’re pure white,” Earl said, looking around desperately for something that might stop the overflowing liquid.

  Dagdron, Elloriana, and Lita raced around the room, looking at the floor, ceiling, and under anything they found for the stag antlers.

  “They’re right here,” Earl yelled. The others turned to see Earl pointing to a hairy-looking net hanging directly above the cauldron. Jumbled together in the net was a mix of antlers, horns, and claws, but the snowy antlers stood out most of all.

  “Nice going, wench,” Dagdron said.

  “It’s not my fault,” Elloriana said defensively. “That’s not a statue. It’s Kemp Balin. The witch must be experimenting on him.”

  Earl and Lita turned, shocked, toward the hideous man. Gretta had captured Kemp last year, but they had never heard what happened to him. He looked so unpleasant that they could barely tell it was him and were left wondering with what magic potions the witch in the woods had experimented on him.

  Dagdron, ignoring Elloriana, ran forward, his only thought telling himself that this was one of Flip’s mini-quests. Without hesitation, he climbed up the shelves that Earl had already disrupted. As soon as he felt his weight becoming too much for the ledge, he jumped backward, spinning in the air and clutching the net that hung above the cauldron. The concoction was now spurting liquid upward, so Dagdron lifted his legs as he drew his dagger. He sliced through the hairy ropes, creating an opening. He jerked a couple horns out first, tossing them into the cauldron below, and then he began wrangling the first snow stag antler out of the tangle of the net.

  In the meantime, Earl, Elloriana, and Lita had backed up so they were out of reach of the magenta liquid that was inching its way across the floor with each burble of the cauldron. This left Dagdron with no option but to toss the antler across the house to Earl.

  “Nice job, Dagdron,” Earl said. “Just three more.”

  As Dagdron worked out another ivory antler, his mind raced for a way he could get out of his current predicament without landing in the pink liquid or, worse, in the cauldron itself.

  With the second antler free and after tossing a few more horns and claws into the cauldron, Dagdron was able to shift the net and retrieve the third and fourth snow stag antlers without a problem. He tossed them over to Earl and then started swinging the net, all while keeping his legs lifted high, out of the splatter. When he judged his momentum was enough, Dagdron released the net and flew across the room, landing in a somersault.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Dagdron said, but then they were distracted by a deep groan.

  “Help me,” Kemp moaned, his mouth only able to form the words slowly.

  “We can’t just leave him,” Elloriana said. “Who knows what the ooze is going to do to him?”

  “Who cares? It can’t be any worse than what the witch has already done,” Dagdron said.

  Elloriana glanced at Earl, who was frozen in thought. Kemp was one of the few people in the land that Earl had ever felt resentment toward. Not only had he tried to kill them, he had also broken the Creed of Honor of the Adventurers’ Academy. And being a dishonorable hero was the scummiest thing one could be in the young warrior’s eyes. Earl finally broke from his trance, cramming the snow stag antlers into Dagdron’s arms.

  “Dishonorable people still should be rescued by honorable adventurers,” Earl said, motioning for Lita and Elloriana to help him. Together the warrior, lady warrior, and enchantress hoisted the stiff man in their arms. Elloriana twisted her face in disgust as she touched the stained skin, but th
ey carried Kemp across the house and out the front door after Dagdron.

  Not knowing how long Wendahl could stand being in Gretta’s presence, they rushed across the yard. Dagdron slipped out easily with the antlers, but the others had a hard time sliding Kemp through, and he received a streak of slime from the fence on his face.

  “What are you up to this time?” Byron said, suddenly appearing from the trees with Landon and Gordon behind him.

  “Oh my land!” Elloriana said loudly. “Stop following us! We’re just helping Dagdron fulfill one of his rogue mini-quests. He had to sneak into the witch in the woods’s house and rescue Kemp. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “The witch in the woods?” Byron said incredulously. “She’s just a legend.”

  Before Elloriana could tell him to get lost, a shriek split the night. In the few minutes they had been out of the house, the cauldron froth had expanded and the windows and doorway were giving off a mysterious magenta glow. And Gretta had just seen it, as she and Wendahl had just returned from their late-night walk.

  “My house!” Gretta screeched as she began casting a variety of crackling spells at the intruders.

  Byron, Gordon, and Landon yelled in fear and took off running into the forest. Dagdron dodged to the side and hid the stag antlers behind the closest bush. Earl, Lita, and Elloriana instinctively tried to avoid the spells, so Kemp, moaning in pain, was used as their shield.

  As soon as Wendahl and the witch reached the fence, Gretta, more worried about rescuing her house, stopped her spell casting and entered her yard. Wendahl, on the other hand, rushed over to the four young adventurers.

  “Run!” he yelled.

  Dagdron snatched the antlers back up and darted into the forest with Wendahl hobbling right behind him, using his hoe as a crutch. Elloriana finally moved out of her center position in holding Kemp and ran off. Earl and Lita carried Kemp a little way down the trail before dumping him in the brush, hoping he would be hidden long enough to regain his mobility and escape.