"Willow, what are you doing?"
A second witch stormed out of the house behind the campfire. She was young, tall, and beautiful, with golden hair and blazing green eyes. Her black robes swished around her. The firelight painted her face red.
Willow straightened, gulped, and said, "Uhm... hello, Madrila. I'm... I'm preparing a poison for the Bullies—something so deadly, they cannot survive it."
Madrila! Hiding behind the trees, Cobweb gasped. So here was Dry Bones's long-lost daughter. Here was the witch who wanted her father avenged and the Bullies dead. Here was the woman who had sent grunters to kill them. Cobweb reached for an arrow.
I should kill her now, she thought. I should shoot an arrow into her heart. And yet she dared not. A hundred monsters stood here. If she killed Madrila, those monsters would swarm across the forest, find her and Romy, and kill them. Cobweb forced herself to release her arrow.
"Willow, you made cookie dough again!" Madrila shouted. "When will you learn to be a proper witch? When will you learn to be more evil, for heaven's sake?"
Willow sniffed back tears, but managed to puff out her chest. "I am evil, Madrila! I can be as evil as you. If you'll just teach me, maybe some really evil spells, I can—"
"You must earn your spells," Madrila said, interrupting the younger woman. "What happened to the slinkers you took to Burrfield?"
Willow trembled. She looked around, as if searching for an escape route. Finally she swallowed, lowered her head, and said meekly, "The Bullies killed them. I'm sorry, Madrila. We fought them well, but...." She winced as if expecting a blow.
Madrila only stared silently. Her eyes were ice. Finally she spun around, stormed back into her house, and slammed the door shut. A lock clanked.
Willow stood outside, trembling for long moments. Finally she sighed, lay down by the campfire, and curled up.
"Looks like another night outside for me," she said quietly. "At least I have you for company, my dear monsters."
The creatures, however, seemed not to hear her. They were busy fighting over who got to lick the cauldron. Willow sighed again, hugged her knees, and seemed to fall asleep.
"We've seen enough fow n-n-now," Cobweb whispered. "Wet's go home and teww Neev and J-J-Jamie what we weawned."
Romy was looking at the empty cauldron ruefully. Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away, nodded, and the two Bullies began heading back home.
Chapter Five
A Good Year for Pitchforks
John Quill stood outside the walls, holding an oil lamp. He stared down at the dead monsters—furry things with weasel noses, sharp claws, and toes the length of their torsos. He shook his head ruefully.
Oh, Bullies, he thought. Will you never learn to stop your senseless monster slaying?
Leaving the bodies, he stepped back through the gates into Burrfield. As he walked down the street, he began planning tomorrow's article. He smiled as he imagined the Bullies reading it.
"You will learn, Bullies," he said to himself. "You will learn that brawn cannot win every battle."
That Scruff was a beast of legendary strength. That Jamie was a runt, but skilled with the blade. Neev was a powerful warlock, Romy an evil demon, Cobweb a deadly archer. Warriors, Quill thought in disgust. All they know is how to fight, how to kill. He snorted. I might have skinny arms, and no skill with weapons, but I too am strong. I have the strength of words... and words are deadlier than any weapon. He allowed himself a small, tight smile. I will be Burrfield's newest hero.
He entered his print shop. Dawn had not yet risen, and his assistants slept on the floors. Quill took his boxes of letters—each one was printed onto a metal cube—and began arranging them in printing plates. As he worked, his smile grew.
* * * * *
Scruff woke up, stretched, and shuffled outside to grab some tea leaves. The paperboy rode by on his donkey, waved, and tossed a Gazette onto his feet.
Scruff knelt, picked it up, and howled in rage.
He stormed back inside and slammed the newspaper onto the table.
"More rubbish!" he said.
Romy and Cobweb crowded around him, peeking at the newspaper. Emblazoned across it appeared the headline:
"BULLIES FOR BUCKS MURDER A UNICORN FAMILY"
The article stated that a family of forest dwellers, almost certainly peaceful unicorns, were found dead outside Teasel Gate, which the Bullies had been guarding. Spiderling arrows filled them, and they bore wounds the shape of Romy's pitchfork.
"I'm famous!" Romy announced when Scruff read them the part about her.
The rest of the article explained that the unicorns had only wished to bring peace, love, and rainbows to Burrfield... things the Bullies obviously hated.
'The only thing the Bullies love is blood,' the article concluded. 'In this reporter's opinion, they should be locked in Fort Rosethorn's dungeon and forever kept from harming another soul.'
Scruff had just finished reading when the door slammed open. Need and Jamie rushed in; they had been out guarding the walls. Their faces were red, their breath heavy, and their hair wild.
"The natives are restless," Neev said between pants. He slammed the door shut behind him and locked it.
"There's a bloody mob on our heels," Jamie said and drew her sword. She snarled and held the blade before her.
Soon Scruff could hear hundreds of boots thumping, people cursing and screaming, and torches crackling. He peeked out the window and gasped. A mob was racing up Friar Hill toward their house. They held torches and pitchforks.
Romy snorted. "My pitchfork is much nicer. Theirs aren't decorated with ribbons and hearts."
John Quill led the mob, Scruff saw. The printmaker was the only one not cursing or shouting; he walked with a small, smug smile on his face.
"Fools!" Scruff said. He lifted Norman, his spiny mace. "If they break in our house, I'll club them. We risk our lives defending them, and this is what we get?"
Soon the mob reached the house. They trampled over the garden, smashing the pots of herbs, vegetable lattices, and flowerbeds. They began to pound on the door, waving their pitchforks.
"Murderers!" one shouted.
"Demon worshippers!" another called.
Peeking out the window, Romy shouted back, "There's nothing wrong with worshipping me! I deserve it."
Fists pounded on the door, which began to crack.
"Get out of Burrfield!" shouted a man. "You don't belong among decent folk."
Scruff peeked through the window's shutters and saw John Quill smirking, hands on his hips. That does it, he thought. Rage blazed inside him. My father fought and died to defend this town. I fight for this town. My family fights for it. I won't let Quill get away with this.
He swung open the door and rushed outside, knocking people over. He howled and swung his mace around, breaking pitchforks and torches. His cries shook the hill.
"The ogre!" somebody cried. "Kill him!"
Fists and pitchforks began flying his way. Scruff knocked them aside and ran toward Quill. The printmaker's smile vanished. He began to flee, but Scruff caught his shirt, spun him around, and shook him.
"You slimy weasel," Scruff growled. "How dare you turn these people against us, people we've fought to protect? Aren't you ashamed? Romy and Cobweb are new to this town; how dare you welcome them this way?"
Quill was pale and shaking, but managed to snarl. "Romy? Cobweb? The devil and the creature, you mean. Those... those things don't belong in Burrfield among decent humans. You married a monster. Your brother is all but married to a demon." He shouted to the mob. "My friends! Kill this beast. Kill all the Bullies!"
The mob stormed into the house. Scruff heard the other Bullies fighting inside it. Cobweb screamed and even Romy wailed in fear. Fists grabbed Scruff and pulled him off Quill. Boots kicked him, and a pitchfork stabbed his leg. He howled and swung his fists blindly, trying to hold off the mob.
"Cobweb!" he cried. "Cobweb, I'm coming for you."
He tried to make it back to the h
ouse, but legs tripped him. He fell, and a dozen people piled up atop him. He shook them off and punched anything that moved.
"Cease this!"
The voice rang across the hill. Lord Bramblebridge's voice! Scruff breathed in relief. The bulldoggish Lord of Burrfield would put an end to this. When Scruff turned his head, he saw Bramblebridge huff and puff up the hill, swinging his arms. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his orange moustache bristled with rage. Thirty soldiers marched behind him, wearing armor and holding drawn swords.
"My lord!" Scruff said. "I—"
"What the blazes is going on here?" Bramblebridge shouted. "Bullies, I have had enough of your mayhem. Enough, I say!"
Steam whistled out of his ears. His face was red as an apple. A vein throbbed in his neck. Scruff gasped. He's blaming us! The Bullies!
"My lord, please!" Scruff said. "There are monsters lurking outside the town. Green grunting creatures, and furry things with big toes, and a witch who bakes cookie dough, and...."
His voice died. The soldiers were laughing, he saw. Even some of the angry mob smirked. Scruff sighed. They don't believe me. But they do believe Quill.
Bramblebridge, however, was not laughing. He looked ready to burst with rage. His hand trembled around the hilt of his sword.
"I have had enough of these bullies. Enough! Whenever you are around, there is mayhem in Burrfield."
Jamie emerged from the house, face red and clothes torn. "Are you going to banish us again?" she demanded.
Bramblebridge glared at her. It seemed to Scruff like arrows could shoot out of the lord's eyes.
"I've tried that before. You keep coming back!" Bramblebridge turned to his men. "Arrest them! Arrest all the Bullies. Toss them into the dungeon and throw away the key. I will have order in my town!"
As soldiers grabbed Scruff's arms, he shook his head in disbelief.
"You should be fighting the grunters and slinkers!" he shouted. "You should be arresting the witches!"
As they slammed manacles around him, the soldiers laughed.
"Sure thing, Scruff," one said. "Grunters, slinkers, and tooth fairies too, I reckon. But don't worry. No magical fairy creatures can hurt you in the town's nice, cozy dungeon."
Scruff tried to shake himself free, but couldn't break his chains. The soldiers began dragging him away. Scruff saw more soldiers chain up Neev. The young wizard tried to cast spells, but the soldiers gagged him and shackled his limbs.
Wings flapped, and Romy rose into the sky, holding Jamie in her arms. The demon wailed and tears filled her eyes.
"Fly, Romy, get out of here!" Scruff shouted.
Romy sobbed but obeyed. She flew away, holding the diminutive Jamie. The two disappeared into the distance.
The last thing Scruff saw was a soldier manhandling Cobweb. No, not Cobweb! Not my wife. He screamed in rage. Somebody pulled a sack over his head, punched his cheek, and kicked him forward. Darkness and pain covered his world.
Chapter Six
Babes in the Wood
Romy flew over town, her arms wrapped around Jamie. The girl was squirming in her grasp and kicking.
"Calm down!" Romy said. "I can't carry you if you squirm."
She grunted with the effort. Jamie was perhaps a waif of a girl, but her armor was heavy, and Romy wasn't used to carrying more than a pitchfork. She flapped her wings mightily, struggling to fly even ten feet above the ground. She kept dipping, grunting, and struggling for altitude.
"Romy, fly higher!" Jamie cried. "The mob's gaining on us."
Romy turned her head and saw the townfolk chasing them through the streets. A few began tossing rocks. One rock hit Romy's shoulder and she yelped. Other rocks sailed around her.
"Faster, Romy!" Jamie said. "Faster!"
Romy flapped her wings so hard, she thought they'd fall off. She flew over the city walls, just high enough to clear them (though Jamie's boots slammed against the top). They flew over the forest, skimming the treetops. The fresh air invigorated Romy, and she flew faster, until she cleared a stream and the town dwindled behind her. The mob did not follow; they perhaps did not believe in grunters, but it seemed they still feared the forest. Romy descended, her wings aching.
Come on, Romy, she told herself. A nice, smooth landing today.
She glided down. She lowered her feet. She stumbled, flipped over, rolled, and hit an oak. Jamie groaned and pushed her away.
"Bloody hell, Romy, will you ever learn how to land?"
Romy rubbed a bump on her elbow. "Owww," she said and began sucking her thumb. "It's not my fault anyway. In Hell we only fly a little bit over pools of lava or down tunnels. We don't have to fly over walls and forests with angry mobs chasing us!"
The girls sat for several moments in the dry leaves. When they were sure nobody followed, they gingerly stood up, winced in pain, and looked around them.
Jamie drew her sword. "We have to save the others."
A chill ran through Romy. Poor Scruff, Neev, and Cobweb. Were they being locked in a dungeon now? Neev must be so lonely without me, and so cold without my fire to warm him. Romy already missed him so badly, she ached. Well, that and because I landed on a rock.
"How can we save them?" she said and shivered. "Bramblebridge has a hundred soldiers, maybe more. If he locked the others in the dungeon, guards will surround them. Lots of guards. We're good fighters, Jamie, but we're not that good. We can't storm an entire fortress ourselves."
Jamie cursed, grumbled, muttered, and sliced the air with her sword. She let out an enraged grunt like an angry boar.
"Damn it!" she said. "Damn John Quill, and damn Lord Bramblebridge, and damn the whole town. They're bloody fools, all of them. Damn them to hell."
"There's nothing wrong with Hell," Romy said and raised her chin. "As far as I can tell, Burrfield is not much better."
Jamie sighed. "Well, what do we do? How do we save Scruff, Neev, and Cobweb?"
Romy gazed into the forest. The trees stretched as far as she could see. Squirrels, insects, and horrible birds bustled between them.
"What we do now," she said, "is stop Madrila."
Jamie grabbed Romy's shoulders and shook her. "Romy! Who cares about that witch now? The other Bullies are in prison. We have to save them first. Then we'll worry about saving the town."
Romy thought of Neev in the dungeon. Was he lying on a cold stone floor? Did he miss her too—her cuddling, kissing, teasing? She thought of Scruff and Cobweb too—giant, lumbering Scruff whose hugs were so warm; and dear Cobweb, the only person in the world who understood how Romy felt, a foreigner in the weird world of humans. She wanted to save them more than anything, but....
"The other Bullies are safe for now," Romy said. "They might be cold, lonely, and scared. But they're safe. Burrfield is not. What if Willow returns with more grunters? What if Madrila herself attacks? If Burrfield burns, everybody there might die... including Scruff, Cobweb, and Neev. We must stop Madrila. Then we'll worry about saving our friends."
Jamie stared at her, eyes blazing. "How can we defend Burrfield? We can't man the town's walls, just you and me... definitely not with Bramblebridge after us."
Romy raised her eyebrows. "I didn't say we'd man the walls. I say: We attack Madrila's house." She punched the air. "Hit her where it hurts. Pow!"
Jamie groaned and rolled her eyes. "So let me get this straight, Romy. You think we're too weak to storm a fortress... but we are strong enough to attack a witch's evil lair full of dark magic and monsters?"
She nodded. "Uh huh."
"Oh dear. You banged your head a little too hard with this landing, I think."
"That's as may be." She sniffed. "Look, Jamie. Storming a dungeon is tough. I know. Hell is basically a big dungeon. And the angels were always trying to attack us and failing. We'd hunker down in our hidey-holes and keep shooting fire at them. They could never break in. Rosethorn's dungeon will be like that. But Madrila's house... well, lots of monsters surround it. But those monsters are there to defend the
house from knights, mobs, heroes, and all sorts of other creatures without wings. I can fly. You can too, when I carry you. We'll fly right over those grunters, straight onto the roof. We'll enter through the chimney—the Santa Claus attack!"
Jamie frowned. "And what about the other Bullies?"
"Once we kill Madrila, and Burrfield is safe, we'll talk to Bramblebridge. We'll let him cool down first. Are you with me, Jamie?"
The girl gave Romy a long, penetrating stare. Finally she spat into her hand and held it out. Romy shook it, then wrinkled her face.
"Eww, Jamie, did you really have to spit into your hand first?"
"I did. A bond of warriors. We are sisters in arms now, Romster."
Romy raised her eyebrows. This was the nicest Jamie had ever been to her—maybe to anyone!—and Romy felt her heart melt. She hugged the girl tight.
"Aww, thank you, Jamster. I love being your sister."
Jamie squirmed. "Sister in arms, Romy! Fellow warriors. Warriors don't hug, so let go."
As they walked through the forest, Romy skipped and whistled. "I have a sister! A real sister to love!"
Jamie only rolled her eyes.
* * * * *
The guards shoved him in, then slammed the dungeon door shut. Dust flew and darkness fell. Neev's knees hit the floor. He coughed, groaned, and stood up. Blinking dust from his eyes, he groped in the darkness.
"Ouch, Neev!" Scruff said. "You nearly poked your finger into my eye."
"Well, don't stand so close to me," Neev answered. He could still see nothing in the darkness.
"It's not my fault this dungeon is so small."
"Is it small, or are you just that fat?"
Scruff growled in the darkness. "Watch it, little brother, or this fat man might sit on you. Then you'll be able to escape under the door."
"P-p-pwease don't fight!" Cobweb said. Neev could just make out her form; her silvery hair, gossamer dress, and spiderweb tattoo glowed softly. The light glimmered on her purple skin. "Neev, d-d-do you know any spewws dat can hewp us escape?"
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