Dire Woods

Mrs. Wickaby and Emily were waiting down in the common room when he and Bounder arrived. Emily was stuffing a bun into her mouth hurriedly. It looked good. He could see the wolf pack waiting through the open door, their eyes glowing intently.

“Esmer’s packed you enough food for a couple of days,” Dunston said, handing them each a dun coloured sack. “Hopefully it’ll last until you get to St. Francis Academy.”

“Thank you, Dunston,” the old woman responded, “for everything.”

“If this group in the woods is really following you, which I think it is, we’ll try to delay them for as long as possible.”

“No!“ John Joseph bellowed. “You can’t put yourself in any danger!“

Everyone gaped at him in amazement. Even the wolves were sitting at attention. John Joseph cleared his throat and then continued. “Really, you’ve done enough and I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.“ He glanced at Mrs. Wickaby, Emily, the bog cat and the wolves. “If I could do this alone, I would. My aunt has been responsible for enough misery, enough deaths, and I don’t want to be the cause of any more.”

The dwarf started to argue, but the old woman put a finger to his lips. “He’s right. Just try to keep them here without anyone getting hurt for as long as you can,” she said, then she smiled broadly. “Try feeding them some of your Dragon Fire Whiskey. That should knock them off their feet for a few days.”

The dwarf gave John Joseph a heavy nod. “Stick to the creek on your way out; the tree cover will keep you hidden even if they’re still on the hill.”

Emily rushed forward and kissed a shocked Dunston on the cheek.

John Joseph offered him his hand “I’m not much for kissing,” he said.

“Thank goodness,” the dwarf answered with a laugh, then pounding John Joseph on the back, he led them to the garden door.

John Joseph noticed that four of the youngest wolves headed towards the barn instead of following them. “”Mrs. Wickaby, what are the wolves doing?” he asked quietly.

“It seems our friends have decided to leave a few troops behind, just in case.” She informed him. “Probably wise thinking. They can catch up quickly enough if all goes well.”

The group grabbed their bags and hurried out the back door and into the lane. The four wolves coursed ahead, their ears pricked and alert. Bounder, for once, stayed close to John Joseph’s side.

No one was on the streets when they made their hurried departure. No villagers waved fond farewells. It was a small town and word would travel quickly; by now they would know that armed strangers were coming.

Mrs. Wickaby led them down the lane and onto a narrow pathway. One quick turn, then another, and they were on the edge of the creek. A small, sketchy trail followed its banks.

“We need to go at a decent pace,” the old woman instructed, “but not one that’s going to wear anyone out. We’ll be at the lakes within a few hours. From there we’ll have to be in the open for minutes at a time as we go from one group of trees to another. You’ll need your energy as we’ll have to move fast. We also have to practice moving invisibly.”

“You can become invisible?” her granddaughter whispered.

“Been doing something you don’t want your old grandma to know about?” Mrs. Wickaby answered with a chuckle.

“No!” Emily protested, her cheeks bright pink.

The old woman grinned. “To answer your question, no, I can’t become invisible, but I can use the earth’s energy as a bit of a cover. More camouflage really, it just helps make you less visible.”

John Joseph groaned. He’d been trying to be invisible for years. It had never worked. He practiced with Emily anyway as they followed the bumbling waterway towards the mountains.

“Just bring the energy slowly into yourself and then let it seep out of you bit by bit. Become the energy. Become the plants, the air around you. It should make a bit of a shield,” she instructed. “Just keep trying it as we go along.”

They stopped for a quick snack as they got to the end of the tree cover. The bread was fresh and the cheese moist and crumbling.

“We won’t be stopping for a few hours, “Mrs. Wickaby said as she doled out the food, “Enjoy it while you can. It’ll harden up soon enough.”

John Joseph knew it was all too true. He chewed slowly while he gazed out into the meadow before them. The grassy expanse to the next group of trees seemed huge.

Mrs. Wickaby sent the four wolves first. They disappeared into the tall grass silently. John Joseph could see barely a ripple as they made their way to the stand of trees. Bounder was next. He sauntered out with nary a backward glance. He too seemed to disappear until John Joseph spotted his black tipped tail waving above the sea of green.

“You next,” Mrs. Wickaby instructed, pointing at her granddaughter. Emily gave her grandmother a weak smile and stepped out of the cover of the branches. A slight haze seemed to grow around her as she ran towards their waiting companions. It was dazzling in the brilliant sunshine, but instead of making her more obvious, it did the opposite. Even though John Joseph knew she was there, if he didn’t concentrate, she seemed to blend into the landscape.

“She’s a quick study, that granddaughter of mine,” Mrs. Wickaby said with obvious pride. “Now it’s you, boy.”

With a lurch, John Joseph stumbled into the open. He felt like there was a bright red arrow above his head pointing him out. All his failed attempts at becoming invisible seemed to settle around his shoulders. Suddenly the bog cat was at his side, its fierce head butting into his hip. A deep-throated purr coming from its throat.

With the touch of the bog cat, John Joseph knew what he’d been doing wrong. He’d been trying to use the magic that had failed him for so many years. He opened himself to the energy that surrounded him and welcomed it in. You can do this! You’re actually GOOD at this! He could feel the particles in the air shimmer around him. With a leap, he was running through the grass knowing it was working, Bounder loping behind him.

Emily grabbed him into the cover of trees as he reached the edge of the meadow. “Well, that was interesting,” she stated. “One minute you were blazing like a forest fire, the next you just seemed to vanish.”

John Joseph grinned sheepishly. “I had a bit of trouble in the beginning,” he admitted.

“Well, you did wonderfully, when you finally got it,” Emily exclaimed, her dark eyes sparkling.

John Joseph was so astonished at the compliment and its source that he stumbled backwards, almost falling out of the cover of the woods. Emily grabbed his arm again and yanked him forward roughly.

“You are impossible!” she exclaimed. “Do you truly want them to spot us, or are you just stupid?”

John Joseph grinned sheepishly, “Sorry, it’s just I’m not really used to you being so nice to me. It threw me off for a bit.”

Emily flashed him a dark look, then seeing his grin, laughed softly. “I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Might be for the best,” John Joseph said, just as the old hedge witch ran up beside them and patted him soundly on his back.

“You had me worried for a bit,” she told him. “But only for a moment. I knew you‘d figure it out.” She turned to face her granddaughter. “And you, Emily, you’re a natural!”

“Thanks, Grandma,” Emily answered softly.

“Well, enough compliments,” the old woman stated. “Now that everyone knows what they’re doing, we should be able to make even better time.” She arranged her pack and turned to follow the creek once again.

The humans had to use the invisibility trick four more times before they came to the foothills of the Talon Mountains. By then, it was coming so effortlessly to John Joseph that he was even giving the bog cat pointers. “Try to keep your tail down,” he suggested. “It was waving like a flag last time.’

The great cat narrowed his eyes and rumbled softly. John Joseph was too elated to notice. “Wish I’d known how to do this when I was going to Kipling Memorial,” he announced. “It would have helped make recess more enjoyable.”

Emily dropped her head. John Joseph wondered if she was thinking about how she’d treated him. Surprisingly, he wasn’t upset about it anymore.

“Good thing, too,” Mrs. Wickaby said. “You’ll be needing the trick you just learned if we’re going to get through these mountains without being spotted.”

John Joseph’s feeling of satisfaction disappeared. Ah yes, the lovely mountain trolls. He tried to picture the strange sign of the Twirling Troll Inn, the dancing figure in her brilliant gown. Somehow it made him feel less frightened.

“According to this map, the trail leading to the pass should be right behind that mass of boulders.” The old woman pointed to a group of large rocks that lay blazing in the sunshine to the right of them. “All going well, we should be close to the gap entrance before night falls.”

The trail was exactly where the Tan’s map had said it would be. Mrs. Wickaby, map in hand took the lead. Moon Shadow and the two younger wolves followed her. Emily and John Joseph were in the middle with Star Gazer while Bounder brought up the rear.

The deeper into the foothills they got, the harder the trail was to follow. Every hundred yards or so, they’d come to a branching of pathways. The old hedge witch would peruse the map, sweat dripping down the sides of her face and filling her laugh lines. “This way,” she’d command and they’d follow again in her wake.

Finally they came to a fork in the road that wasn‘t on the map. “This could be difficult,” Mrs. Wickaby commented glancing at the left and then right. “There’s only one trail on the map.”

“Can you use the sun diamond?” Emily asked.

“I gave it to Tan, remember?” her grandmother responded. “Anyone feeling lucky?”

“I say we take the one on the left,” John Joseph suggested, “it just seems older to me, the bushes are bigger.”

No one had any better ideas. They all went to the left. They had just rounded a sharp bend, the wolves taking turns leading the way, when they heard a soft yip from up the trail.

“Water Walker,” Mrs. Wickaby whispered, lengthening her stride. “What have you found?”

The young wolf was staring at a rocky outcropping. A skull was perched on a pile of stones, a small sun diamond placed in one empty eye socket. Another skull lay upside down in the dirt.

“Looks like we’re on the right trail,” Emily said with a shudder.

“I wonder what happened to them?” John Joseph asked. Bounder buried his face in the sparse bushes and pulled out a gnawed bone.

“Looks like they were on the menu,” Mrs. Wickaby answered softly.

They left the small sun diamond in the skull, its light flashing up the pathway ahead of them. It seemed the proper thing to do.

The group continued in anxious silence. It was glaringly obvious that the trolls used every pathway.

John Joseph tried to put the memory of the skulls behind him by concentrating on the scenery. Who knew if he’d ever be here again.

He’d always seen the Talon Mountain Range from a distance. Sure, they’d looked pretty, but he never realized just how awe-inspiring they were. Lofty peaks soared above them. Pristine glaciers blazed in the sun’s dazzling light.

Closer at hand, small scraggy pine trees, their limbs bent in amazing contortions clung to the sides of cliffs, or spouted from dirt-encrusted gullies. Delicate mountain flowers in blues and pale pinks, rimmed the trail, while dense mats of lichens cascaded down the rocks.

Mrs. Wickaby spoke into the stillness. “I can hear water up ahead. If it’s a likely looking spot, we’ll camp there for the night. That way the rest of the pack can catch up with us easily.”

They hurried up the trail to find a waterfall, only two or three feet high, cascading out of a hole in the rock face. The water landed in a smooth rock basin.

“Perfect,” the old woman pronounced. “It’s the ideal place to set up.” She glanced at the map once more before folding it up. “We’re not quite as close to the pass as I’d expected, but I don’t think we’ll find another spot like this.”

Everyone approached the pool eagerly. Mrs. Wickaby pulled a worn clay cup from her pocket and dipped it into the clear water. John Joseph just couched beside Bounder and stuck his head in.

He heard Emily gasp beside him, but instead of complaining, she ducked her head in too. John Joseph thought he had never felt anything so wonderfully refreshing.

After they drank their fill they sat down to have some dinner. The bread was getting tough, but the cheese only slightly grainy. The wolves and the bog cat chomped on jerky, their jaws working tirelessly as they shredded the thin strips of meat.

“We should all have a bit of this,” Mrs. Wickaby stated, handing Emily and John Joseph a thin piece. “We’ve been sweating quite a bit and our bodies probably need the salt.”

Emily tugged on the jerky, her jaws clenched. “Not bad,” she commented. “Just a little tough.”

Her grandmother laughed. “Just wait until tomorrow. By then, our bread should be just as chewy.”

They finished eating, packed away the rest of their food and settled in for the night.

“The wolves and the bog cat will keep first watch,” Mrs. Wickaby informed them. “They’ve had more sleep than any of us.”

The light was rapidly fading as the sun disappeared over the mountaintops. John Joseph wrapped a blanket around himself and lay just before the ledge. He was asleep as soon as his head hit his rocky pillow.

He was enjoying a rather pleasant dream for once. His parents were there, as was his grandfather. They were having a picnic on the edge of the large pond behind their home. His mother had prepared his favourite dessert, whipped sugar mountains. He was just reaching for one when he heard a deep-throated growl.

“Bounder,” he murmured. The growl came again, more threatening this time. John Joseph blearily opened his eyes to dim morning light. “What‘s wrong?” he groaned. The bog cat was standing on the trail leading down the mountain. His fur bristled along the ridge of his back. His black-tipped tail jerked frantically.

A finger, smelling faintly of cheese touched his open mouth. “Shhhhh,” Mrs. Wickaby instructed. “There’s someone coming.”

Emily was crouched behind her grandmother, clutching her wand.

John Joseph grabbed his wand from his shirt pocket and sat up slowly. He could hear it now. Great, thumping feet pounding up the trail. Guttural laughter echoing from the rocks. He recognized the sound.

There were trolls, mountain trolls coming right up to their campsite and by the noise they were making, it was quite a group.