Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18

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Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 Page 16

by T. J. Edison.


  “Follow me.”

  He led them to a large double, wooden door. Two goblins guarded it. He banged on it with his fist and a gap appeared. They heard a voice in goblin talk.

  Their escort transformed and told the guard there. “I’ve brought the elven witch and her escort.”

  Jason pulled his hood down to cover his features and bowed his head slightly when the door opened wider. As they entered, their stomachs churned as a cloying stench assailed their senses, their eyes burned and watered. They looked around them and dozens of toad-like eyes set in huge scaly green heads, perched on bloated bodies, followed them as they walked towards a figure seated on a throne carved out of solid rock, it was Lucas, dressed in purple robes. His grey hair hung uncombed over his shoulders and his eyes, once bright, were now dull, and his face had a skull-like appearance.

  “Greetings, Helga, sorry about the stench, my children defecate steadily and I have to provide food for them constantly.” He rose up slowly and pointed at Jason. “Who is that? Where is Silvermoon?”

  Jason hoped he would not recognise his adult voice, he bowed and said, “He perished by the lake, my Lord Lucas. My name is Herlin; I am part elf, part human. I am my lady’s escort. She weakens daily since you rescued Chanteline from the goblins.”

  “Rescued! I like that. Yes I did rescue it from those fools. I had intended to join the boy Jason and his sister after they convinced Lengowyn to come out of hiding and raid the goblin lair. I would, as Lord of the werewolves, have taken charge of the rune stone, but I chanced upon Princess Reega and took the stone from her. I had persuaded her father to obtain it, I told him it would grant them longevity and the fool believed me. I told him where to find it, and I suppose you know the rest.”

  Jennifer said in a loud whisper, “Where is Chanteline, you said you wished to know how to use its powers?”

  He moved behind the throne, beckoning them. “Come with me, out of the smell, the cleaners will be here soon.”

  As they approached him they heard the door behind them open, Jason, holding onto Jennifer’s arm, saw a number of goblins carrying large shovels enter, pushing a large wooden cart before them.

  Lucas bent down stiffly and opened a large trapdoor.

  Jason looked at the door situated behind the throne, secured with three large bolts. To his relief, Lucas descended first, and with the throne blocking the guard’s view Jason quickly drew the well-oiled bolts back and followed Lucas. Jennifer followed, making a show of how difficult she found the long descent.

  The heat greeted them as they trod the wooden stairway down to the stone floor of what was a huge furnace. A troll worked the large bellows continually and another left by a tunnel, dragging a large cart behind it. Dwarves poured molten metal, taken with ladles from a cauldron set on white hot embers, into moulds. Jason assumed it was the bomb casings.

  Lucas walked over to a table. Jason saw a dull grey-looking piece of glass, twice as big as his fist, lying there. Lucas picked it up and showed it to them. “The rune stone,” he said, grinning.

  Yvette and Julia arrived at the tunnel entrance. Werepeople were helping with the excavation while others, transformed, kept watch along the hillside. Yvette asked Darkenstar, not yet transformed, “How are we progressing?”

  He told her as she transformed back to human shape, we are almost ready.”

  A voice called softly from the entrance, it was Dardwyn, “We are through. The tunnel is wide enough.”

  The remaining werewolves discarded their clothing and the guards returned to human shape as they joined the throng. Darkenstar said, to Yvette “I assume there has been a change of plan, what is my son up to?”

  Yvette told him of the recent happenings and added, “After we have dealt with the monsters and brought Jason and Jennifer out, I will try to set the explosive powder off.” She looked about her then added, “And let’s hope none of those beasts escape, for even one of them could wreak terrible damage on our forces if it transforms, after which it would produce more of its kind.”

  With Dardwyn leading and Yvette following, the werepeople entered the tunnel.

  Lucas approached Jennifer and said, “Give me the powers and I will set you free.”

  He stopped as Jennifer slipped back her hood, “Helga doesn’t trust you. She sent me to bring back the rune stone; it is after all, my responsibility.”

  His jaw sagged and he said, “The Townsend girl!” He turned to Jason as he threw off his robes and transformed, “And Silvermoon.”

  Lucas stepped back and his body shuddered and grew. Jennifer pulled out her bow, strung it and quickly nocked an arrow. Jason transformed rapidly and crouched, ready to spring and Jennifer drew her bow taught. The pair stared in wonder as Lucas’ body shrank back to his normal shape, his body withered and his knees buckled.

  Dardwyn eased forward and peered through a hole, Yvette asked, “Are we there now?”

  He replied as he pushed a mound of dirt out of the way, “Yes, it’s a large storeroom, I hope they haven’t fitted bolts as they said they would,” and then he disappeared.

  “Bolts!” said Yvette as she scrambled down onto the storeroom floor after him. “Now you tell me.” She added, “Can we transform in here?”

  “Yes, of course, it’s quite a large room.”

  She groped for him in the darkness and said when she found him, “Show the way my little hero.”

  Dardwyn turned the doorknob, and pushed against the door. “It’s not bolted,” he whispered.

  He stepped to one side and light crept into the room as Yvette opened the door, just wide enough for the others to see they had room to transform. Soon the room became packed with huge furry bodies, with more waiting to enter. Yvette said, “We must secure the door at all costs.”

  Darkenstar nodded in agreement and said, “It’s now or never, but slowly.”

  Yvette moved out into the room, she almost vomited at the smell. She looked at the others as they grimaced and said as the place behind the throne became too crowded, “Now!”

  She bounded out and collared a goblin standing idly before the throne; she grabbed his spear, seized his head between her jaws and ripped it off. Another guard ran to the door, Yvette threw the spear and pinned him to it.

  The werewolf pack pounced on the creatures, they ripped off their scales and slashed open their bodies, increasing the stench in the room. As the numbers diminished Yvette said, “There are others,” and pointed to a dozen openings in the cave wall. As she did so a torrent of toad-like creatures of various sizes hopped out, bleating like lambs.

  The goblin, pinned to the door was still alive, Yvette saw him slip the latch and due to his weight, the door swung open. “The door, it is open,” she cried out.

  The werewolves were at work, ripping and slashing, but so great were the monsters numbers that one of them slipped through their ranks and through the open doorway, pushing it wide open , after which over a dozen escaped onto the mountainside.

  As the goblin army formed ranks and the trolls ambled forward. Seawan roared, “Prepare for battle, archers prepare to shoot, high angle.” He raised his own bow and saw the creatures leave the cave entrance and cried, “Stop!”

  One archer, a young elf and slightly nervous, let loose his arrow as he lowered his bow, it flew across the valley and struck one of the creatures between the scales on its neck. The arrow did not penetrate deep, but caused the animal to bleat. Then the bleat changed to a growl and the growl became a roar as the creature transformed.

  Seawan watched in horror as the others, over a dozen, followed suit.

  Jennifer lowered her bow and said, “Helga was right, Chanteline has taken away your longevity, you

  are dying Lucas.”

  The old man stared back at her, “Then you shall not have it.” He ran as fast as his wobbly legs could carry him and held the rune stone over the cauldron. “Say goodbye to your rune stone,” he whispered hoarsely.

  A dwarf ran forward in the hope of prevent
ing him. His action halted Jason just as he was about to pounce and the dwarf stopped in his tracks as Jason sidestepped him. The troll working the bellows stopped pumping and kicked Jason to one side as he passed him, causing him to land badly, leaving him winded.

  Jennifer screamed, “What do you want Lucas, Helga can save you, did you know that? Come with us, we forgive you, werewolves are our allies, not our enemies.”

  Lucas spoke in goblin and the troll growled and moved towards her, she loosed her arrow and it buried itself in the giant’s throat. She loosed another and another and the troll stopped in its tracks, then it dropped to its knees, coughing, spewing blood, clawing at the shafts, mewing pitifully, blocking Jennifer’s aim and then it toppled forward and hit the floor with a splat. Lucas let out a cry of anguish and the rune stone fell from his grasp into the cauldron of molten metal.

  Jason, after recovering from his clash with the troll, came to his feet and leaped forward his arm outstretched.

  Jennifer screamed, “Jason, don’t…”

  She watched, her mouth agape as Jason plunged his hand into the molten lead. He howled in pain and pulled out his arm, hairless but unburned. His hand clutched the rune stone and with his features creased in agony, he sank to his knees. His body took on human shape once more and Jennifer rushed towards him, joined by the dwarf. The other dwarves joined them and they watched as the rune stone glowed a brilliant white, they stepped back, shielding their eyes. Jason rose up, he turned, with the stone in his grasp and hurried towards the stairway.

  “Jason, where are you going?” she called out.

  Lucas appeared before her, baring his teeth, “This is all your fault,” he said and picked up a metal ladle.

  She drew her sword, blocked and side-stepped his feeble swing and with one blow severed his head from his body. She called out to the dwarves as she ran after Jason. “We must leave, there is danger here for you, follow me.”

  She reached the top of the stairway and peered around the throne. She saw Yvette and the werewolves standing by the entrance. Monster bodies lay everywhere. She stumbled through the gore and called out to Yvette, “Yvette, where is Jason? He has the rune stone but he has hurt himself.”

  The crowd of werewolves made way for her and Yvette smiled as she neared her. “He’s out there, look.”

  Seawan called out to his men as he saw the harpies spread their wings while still on the ground, hopping around, “Soon, they will attack, I have been told they are hard to kill, but nevertheless we must try, for the safety of the world depends on us today. Wait until they are in close range, and then take aim carefully, they are armoured with chitin, but there will be chinks.”

  Silvern said, “I believe we should try fire-arrows, they might not be…”

  Her voice trailed off as the soldiers around them spoke to one another, pointing across the valley, one called out to him. “Lord Seawan, what magic is that?”

  He followed the pointed finger and saw Jason, standing naked outside the cavern entrance with a horde of werewolves behind him. His arm was raised on high and something shone brightly from his hand.

  He gasped as a beam of light flashed out as one of the harpies rose up, its wings beating mightily, the creature, as soon as the light touched it, vanished in a cloud of dust. The other harpies rose as one and headed towards the elven army, but the beam of light reached out to them and one by one they too turned to dust.

  He looked across the distance at Jason now joined by Jennifer; he heard his voice call out as he held up the rune stone, still glowing, and could hardly believe his ears as he heard the following, “Goblins, the werewolf traitor Lucas is dead. You see I have the power to destroy each and every one of you. Earlier you mined for silver, why not return to this honourable trade and work with the dwarves as you used to. Can we not live in peace?”

  There rose a great mumbling sound as the goblin horde, spoke amongst themselves. It all stopped as a female voice rang out. A female goblin in human form, her body now naked as her armour - too large for her shrunken form - fell away from her. She threw down her battle axe and called out, “I am Princess Raylin. I am the leader of my people. You talk of peace, but we are cursed.”

  Jason descended the path leading to the camp, he held up his other hand and the werewolves behind him remained where they were. He called out. “What do you mean, you were cursed?”

  “We were elves once, born in the northern lands of Asgard, or didn’t you know that?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “A curse was laid upon us by the long-dead witch Ragniss after my people refused to build her a throne out of pure gold. If you can change us back to the elves we once were, we would abide by any terms of peace you propose.”

  Jason descended farther down the path and approached her. “Where can we talk,” he asked.

  She indicated a large tent at the bottom of the hill, “In there.”

  He followed her down the pathway, two naked figures amongst a horde of nervous goblin warriors.

  They arrived at the tent and a guard pulled back the flap and they went inside.

  She tossed him a cloak and proceeded to dress. He slipped the cloak over his shoulders and said, “Your face is familiar, and your scent.”

  She laced up her boots and rose up from the stool on which she had sat. “Yes, that was me at the station; I noticed your reaction as I moved upwind of you. You saw me in the woods; your sister did too, when I was giving Jorgul, my brother, his instructions.”

  He shook his head at this. “So John, er, Jorgul was your brother.”

  “Yes! A good brother, he and Reega were twins, I was the baby sister. He always looked out for me.”

  He recalled how John checked the toboggans for damage before he would allow any one of them to use them. “How did all this start? I’ve just turned seventeen and I’ve been lied to, and I’ve been told the truth, so let me hear from your lips how all this goblin, werewolf and elf altercation came into being.”

  She stared at him hard, her dark eyes glistened as she spoke, “My people whom you know as the goblins, were once mountain elves. They raised goats and mined for silver, and the dwarves, their mountain neighbours, mined for iron. They lived in houses made of wood in the company of dwarves and it was a peaceful co-existence.”

  “What happened to destroy this peace?”

  “One dark day they fell foul of the witch Ragniss when she showed them gold. After this fateful meeting this shiny yellow metal was the only thing they craved, and it changed them from hard-working beings into a crafty and devious race. She showed them how to get gold, but not by slaving underground. She poisoned their minds telling them that only elves should possess gold, and she sent them to the lowlands, to scour the paths along the many fjords, and there they waylaid many travellers and killed them for their gold.

  They also raided and plundered the houses of the rich and stored their ill-gotten gains in the mountain caves. One day, Ragniss, after seeing the amount of gold they had gathered to them, demanded that they, after building her a fine house, should build her a throne of gold. They refused and told her to leave them alone, to go back to where she came from. So she cursed them. In her bitterness she shortened their lives, she changed them physically, their legs became spindly like a spider’s, their bodies fat and their arms thick with muscle, their eyes became sensitive to sunlight and they grew fangs and could only survive by drinking blood from cattle.”

  She paused, the memory altering her features. She took a deep breath and wiped away a tear before she continued, “Many died, and others went insane. She set their houses on fire, turned their cattle into trolls and banned them to the mountain caves telling them the sun would burn the trolls. As time passed, their mouths became deformed and they ended up speaking gibberish that only they could understand.”

  She moved away from him and seated herself on a wooden bench. “Then one day, Ragniss died. Some say the dwarves, allies of the mountain elves, poisoned her for what she did to their
friends. Naturally, the goblins burned her house with her in it.”

  “What happened to the curse, surely that would have died with her?”

  “They thought so to, but I believe the curse thrives on evil. After the witch’s death though, her spell did weaken, for the goblins found they could transform for a while into their previous shape, a painful process which they learned to control and they found, with practice, that they could change from one form to another at will for very long periods and eventually they mixed with the humans, trading with them during the day, while stealing blood from their cattle in the night.”

  Then the Norsemen invaded the land and when they learned of their evil ways they sought them out with the aid of the werewolves from the wild lands in the east they forced my people to leave their homeland.”

 

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