Authors: Daniel Arenson
Snagglefoot placed a wrinkled hand on her shoulder and smiled. Jamie realized that he stood just as tall. When she turned around, she saw that Rowyn, the young wizard elfling, was her height too. When Ellywyn and Noelyn entered the chamber, Jamie realized that they were even shorter.
And yet they're proud, and strong, and warriors,
Jamie thought. Maybe being so short wasn't too bad. She wished suddenly that she were an elfling too. Nobody would call her a runt here. They would call her a great warrior.
"Thank you, Snagglefoot," she said to the old elfling. "We owe you our lives. When the witch Madrila cursed us, we didn't know if we'd ever see our true forms again."
"Tell us of Madrila," Snagglefoot said. "Tell us all you've seen, and all that you know. She has long tormented us elflings, sending her creatures and her curses to our clan."
Jamie spent a moment speaking of fighting Dry Bones, Madrila's father, and how the witch now craved revenge. She talked of the grunters, and the animals in the basement, and of Willow the apprentice.
"She's after more power," she finished her story. "If she conquers Burrfield, and if she trains Willow to be a second witch, she'll threaten the entire kingdom."
The elflings looked at one another in the light of the firefly jars: Snagglefoot, old and wizened; Rowyn, a young wizard with somber eyes; Ellywyn, her silver dagger held high; Noelyn, of silver hair and purple eyes, clutching her bow. They seemed to talk with their eyes, an entire language that needed no words.
Finally Snagglefoot nodded. "We will send you aid."
Jamie nodded and clutched Moonclaw's hilt.
"Thank you, Snagglefoot," she said. "With an army of elflings, we can defeat Madrila. We will destroy her forces and kill or capture her."
The elflings looked at one another again. Ellywyn tightened her grip on her dagger. Rowyn and Noelyn held hands.
"No army," Snagglefoot said sadly. "We are small, humble folk. We have no armies like the high elves. Our blades are smaller, and we build arrows for guarding our realm, not attacking another. I will send with you three champions: Rowyn, my grandson, who wields a wand; Ellywyn, of fiery hair and fiery temper, who wields a blade of pure elfsilver; and Noelyn, our eyes in the night, an archer of pure aim. They will protect you on your way, Jamie of Burrfield. They will fight alongside your sword."
Jamie looked at them. Was that all? Only three? Suddenly her eyes burned. How could they defeat Madrila with so few warriors?
"But Snagglefoot, I saw many elfling archers in the trees. Send them with me! Send them to battle."
The old wizard shook his head. "They are simple folk, Jamie of Burrfield. Most have never shot their arrows at a living thing. They have gardens to tend, younglings to raise—"
"So do the people of Burrfield!" she said.
"And yet you are here with us, not with your people," Snagglefoot said. "Why is that, Jamie of Burrfield?"
She opened her mouth, but found no words. How could she tell him about John Quill, about the angry mob, about being outcast and lonely? She sighed, lost for words.
Noelyn approached her, eyes soft. The fireflies glimmered against her silvery hair and brown skin. The archer hugged Jamie, kissed her forehead, and whispered, "I will fight by your side, Jamie of Burrfield. Ellywyn and Rowyn will fight too. We will win together."
Jamie shut her eyes. She remembered seeing Lenore dead, slain after fighting Dry Bones at her side. She remembered hugging the bodies of her parents. She remembered all those who had died fighting black magic and evil. What if these elflings died too? It would be too much to bear, she thought. But still she nodded.
"I will be proud to fight by you," she whispered to them. "May our blades shine bright, our arrows fly true, and our magic light the darkness."
Noelyn smiled, teeth bright. "Now eat and sleep, Jamie and Romy. Night falls and the trees whisper. Tonight we rest. Tomorrow... we march to war."
* * * * *
Neev ran up Friar Hill, the wind stinging his face. He gritted his teeth and his heart thrashed.
This is the place,
he remembered.
This is where Dry Bones murdered my father. And this is where I'll kill his daughter.
Burrfield burned behind him, aswarm with grunters. Madrila stood atop the hill, hands raised and showering black magic. Her robes billowed, and her face was ghostly white. She laughed, fingers crackling with electricity. Twenty grunters surrounded her, holding jagged blades.
"Hello, Neev Thistle!" she called down to him. She pointed a finger at him, and green lightning flew. Neev cast his own spell, and blue magic shot from his fingertips, parrying her attack. Sparks showered and kindled the grass.
"We killed your father!" he shouted as he ran uphill toward her. "We'll kill you too."
She snarled and hurled a fireball at him. Neev shouted a spell and raised a blue force field. The fireball crashed.
"Grunters!" Madrila screamed, voice shrill. "Kill them."
The monsters ran downhill. Their red eyes blazed. Their maws opened to scream, baring fangs, and their blades swung. An arrow slammed into one, and it crashed down. As Cobweb nocked a second arrow, Scruff swung his mace, killing a second grunter.
A red shard of magic flew toward him, shaped as an arrow. Neev sprayed green fire from his fingertips, knocking the arrow aside. He uttered spells furiously and shot a bolt of blue lightning. Madrila laughed and parried with a bolt of her own.
Scruff screamed. Neev glanced and saw a grunter biting Scruff's shoulder. Cobweb was stabbing it with her dagger.
Madrila shot glowing blue spiderwebs. Neev shot a bolt of magic, but it passed through the web and missed Madrila. The web slammed into him, wrapped around him, and he fell.
Neev struggled but couldn't free himself. Grunters surrounded Scruff and Cobweb; the two fought back to back, faces grim. Laughing, Madrila walked downhill. She stood above Neev and placed her foot against his chest.
"Ready to die, boy?" she whispered, smiling crookedly. She aimed her wand at him.
Neev grabbed a rock and tossed it. Madrila's eyes widened when the rock hit her shoulder. Struggling out of the webs, Neev leaped up and punched, but she grabbed his fist. She snarled, crushing his hand, inhumanly strong. Her teeth were bared, her eyes wild; she looked like a rabid wolf.
"You will die," she hissed. She uttered a spell, and lightning flowed from her hand into Neev.
He screamed. The lightning burned him, twisted inside him, and made his knees buckle. He fell, writhing and shouting in pain.
Focus! Focus, Neev. Summon your magic. Ignore the pain. Fight!
Whose voice whispered inside him? Was it his own voice? His Father's?
Neev! Neev, I love you. Please, Neev, don't die.
It was Romy's voice, he realized. He looked for her, his vision blurry. He couldn't see her. He only saw Madrila's face, twisted in rage; the grass and trees burning; Scruff and Cobweb bleeding and surrounded. Lightning crackled across him, and smoke rose from him. But Romy did speak to him—Romy whom he loved, who loved him, whom he could whisper all his secrets to as they cuddled at night. She was innocent and pure. He could not leave her alone in this world.
Madrila laughed. Though the pain suffused him, drenching him with sweat, Neev began to utter a spell. Madrila inhaled sharply, eyes widening. Bull horns sprouted from Neev's head. A fireball flew from his hand and slammed into Madrila.
The witch screamed. She released him and fell, her magic vanishing. Neev doubled over, hugging himself and trembling. From the corner of his eye, he saw Madrila struggle to her feet.
Get up, Neev! Fight. Fight!
He struggled onto his knees, pointed his fingers at Madrila, and shot a lighting bolt. It hit her chest and knocked her back. She flew several feet and crashed down.
Grunters came racing uphill. There were dozens, maybe hundreds. Their howls tore the air, and the firelight painted them red. Their fangs and claws were white as shards of bone.
"Neev, we have to get out of here!" Scruff shouted. Green blood covered him, and his mace still swung.
Cobweb ran and pulled Neev to his feet. "We have to wun! T-t-too many gwuntews!"
Neev nodded and they began running downhill. Madrila was screaming behind them; she was wounded but still alive. Monsters filled the night. In every direction he looked, their eyes shone, their claws lashed, and their fangs bit. Soon he was running through the streets. Fire rained from the sky, and bodies lay in gutters.
"Out of Burrfield!" Neev shouted. "This town is overrun."
"Neev! Neev!"
The voice came from down the street. He looked into the darkness and gasped. A woman stood there, wreathed in fire, her hair aflame. No, not a woman, but a demon! Romy! A lump filled Neev's throat. He couldn't stop tears from stinging his eyes.
"Romy!"
He ran forward. She ran toward him. They crashed into each other's embrace, and she began kissing him, trembling and weeping.
"Neev, oh Neev, you're alive," Romy said. "I love you so much."
He looked over her shoulder and gasped. "Jamie!"
His little sister ran there. Three elves stood at her sides, one with a wand, the other with a dagger, and the third with a bow. They were fighting grunters in an alleyway. Neev ran to help them, cast fireballs, and soon the grunters lay dead. More howled across the town, filling every street.
"Jamie, we're leaving!" Neev said. "To Barley Gate. Come on!"
Blood splashed Jamie's armor and blade. "We can't abandoned the town!" she said.
Neev gestured around him. Hundreds of grunters covered the roofs and filled every street. "If we stay, we die! We'll continue the fight in the forest. Now run!"
The five Bullies ran, reunited at last, and the three elflings ran with them. Fire burned all around, and grunters leaped from every alley and doorway. The companions' blades, arrows, and magic flew. Grunters fell dead before them.
When Neev looked back toward the hill, he saw Madrila standing again, laughing and shouting. Her voice rang over the town.
"Run and hide, Bullies!" she shouted and laughed. "You cannot escape me. Your town is mine! Your people are my slaves! And I am coming for you. You will die, Bullies. You will die in pain."
Romy growled and made to run toward the hill. Neev held her shoulder.
"Not now, Romy. She's got hundreds of monsters here. Into the forest! We'll find another way."
They ran through the streets until they reached the south gate. Ten grunters waited there, growling and grunting and howling for blood. Arrows flew, blades swung, and the grunters died. The Bullies raced into the forest, the fire and screams rising behind them.
As he ran between the trees, Neev's eyes stung; from tears or smoke, he did not know. They ran for an hour, maybe more. They ran until the roar of fire, the smell of blood, and the screams of death faded behind. Finally they collapsed in a forest clearing, shivering, wounded, and frightened.
Neev lay in the grass, his robes seared and torn, his body aching and blistering. Romy curled up against him, embraced him, and cried against his chest. Scruff, Cobweb, and Jamie huddled together, as did the elflings.
It began to rain and wind howled. The night stretched into a nightmare of pain, cold, and darkness.
Chapter Eleven
Bulldog
Madrila walked through Burrfield, fingers tingling.
I'm home,
she thought.
For the first time in my life, I'm home. Here is where I was born. Here is where my mother abandoned me. Burrfield.
Her breath shuddered in her lungs, and her eyes stung.
She looked at all the shops, the tavern, the church, the cozy houses. The town smoldered now, and blood splashed its streets, but Madrila could see its former beauty; Burrfield had been a storybook town.
I could have grown up here
, she thought.
I could have been raised happy, in a warm house, surrounded with family and friends.
Her belly ached and she could barely breathe. She thought of all her years of pain—cowering from Friar Robert, living in the forest, wandering the world scared and alone. Meanwhile, her siblings—the freakish giant Scruff, the smug twerp Neev, and the runt Jamie—grew up in this perfect place, happy and protected.
I suffered while they lived in comfort. And now they suffer.
She clenched her fists.
Now everyone in Burrfield will suffer like I did.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, looking around her. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Beautiful."
Willow scurried by her side, struggling to keep up on shorter legs. Her purple robes swirled around her. Their pots, pans, blankets, and other belongings rattled over her back.
"Indeed, my lady!" the apprentice panted. "This is much better than living in the forest. Burrfield is a beautiful, quaint little town. Ooh, look, they have a toy shop!"
Madrila spun toward her, snarling. She clutched Willow's cheeks and squeezed them, digging her fingernails into the flesh.
"Do you think I care about toy shops? Do you think I care about quaint beauty?" She gestured at a few smoldering houses, their roofs burnt and their walls blackened, and to fresh graves at the church down the road. "This fire, and this death, and this fear... these are beautiful. Do you understand, Willow?"
Willow nodded, eyes wide with fear. She attempted a weak cackle. "I love seeing fire and... uhm, graves." She sneaked a yearning glance at the toy shop, then quickly looked at her feet.
Madrila sighed and shoved her apprentice aside. "I don't know why I bother with you, Willow. If you weren't so good at cleaning, laundry, and cooking, I'd have gotten rid of you ages ago."
They kept walking through the town. Fifty grunters marched around them, armed with spears and swords from Burrfield's armory. Helmets wobbled on their warty heads. More grunters manned every street corner, standing at attention. No humans walked outside. They either hid indoors in what houses still stood, or lay buried in the graveyard.