Authors: Daniel Arenson
"And play marbles with us," she added. She opened a pouch and showed him marbles the elflings had given her.
"So it's decided," Neev said. "Scruff and Cobweb will visit Spidersilk Forest and ask Cobweb's friends for help. Jamie and the elflings will find Grumbledook the dragon. And Romy and I will go to Hell."
Scruff's stomach grumbled. "And my belly is going to disappear," he said. "Cobweb, on the way to Spidersilk Forest, we're stopping at an inn and eating an entire roast boar."
The Bullies shared hugs, and Neev found sadness inside him. It seemed that whenever he reunited with his siblings, something drove them apart. Though he'd never admit it aloud, he'd miss them.
"Take care, little brother," Scruff said, squeezing him in a crushing embrace.
"Enjoy the heat," Jamie said and hugged him too.
Cobweb gave him a warm, gentle embrace, and her hair filled his nostrils with the scent of flowers. "We'ww m-m-meet again soon."
Neev nodded. "We'll meet in this forest clearing in one month. That should give us all enough time."
And they were gone. Jamie and the elflings walked north, disappearing among the trees. Scruff and Cobweb headed east, talking about roasted boars. Neev stayed for a moment in the clearing, Romy by his side. The demon girl placed an arm around him and kissed his cheek.
"Just you and me, monkey boy." She gave his tail a tug.
He sighed and held her hand. "Well, Romy, how do we get to Hell other than us killing each other?"
She snorted. "Pfft. Neev, if I killed you, you'd go straight to Heaven. You're a sweetheart and you know it." She mussed his hair. "No killing. We simply find a volcano and jump in. All volcanoes lead to Hell, you know."
"There
is
the problem of searing lava."
"I didn't say it has to be an active volcano, monkey. There's a perfectly dry one a week's walk from here. My friends and I used to sometimes sneak out that way, when we wanted to scare priests on Earth. This one time, we showed up at church, and streaked right down the nave! Good times. The choir lady fainted, but I think the alter boys enjoyed the show." She winked and tugged his arm. "Come on, lazy! I'll show you the way."
They walked south among the trees, hand in hand.
Chapter Twelve
Small Carrots, Big Spiders
Willow walked through Burrfield, eyes wide. She had never seen such a magical town.
"This is a long cry away from the forest," she told Bramblebridge. The bulldog was tugging the leash, trying to run ahead, but Willow held him fast. She wanted to walk slowly. She wanted to savour this place—the scents, the sounds, the wonder of it.
"I was born to a poor lumberjack, do you know?" she said to Bramblebridge.
"Woof!" he answered and tugged the leash.
"It's true. I grew up in a shack among pines. "Then, as an apprentice to Madrila, I lived in a creaky, cold house surrounded by twisting oaks. But this place...."
She looked around and inhaled deeply. There were buildings in Burrfield, real buildings—some four stories tall! She saw a tavern with green tiles and actual glass windows. She saw a bakery—they didn't just bake bread here, but cakes and pastries too. She saw a church that rose so tall, taller than trees, gargoyles upon its spire. Many of the buildings bore signs of the battle—a burned roof here, a smashed window there—but the townfolk were quick to rebuild. The town already looked much better than yesterday; at this rate, its battle scars would be gone in days.
"I'm so glad we conquered this town," she said and patted Bramblebridge. "This is much better than the forest. I—"
Her voice died. Her eyes widened. Grunters were marching down the street, howling and waving clubs and torches. Madrila marched at their lead, smiling thinly. Her wand crackled with lightning.
"Here we are, my friends," Madrila said to her grunters. "Destroy this tavern! I will not have the townfolk gathering here to plot against me."
The grunters howled and began clubbing the tavern's windows and walls. Willow gasped and covered her mouth.
"Destroy the pastry shop!" Madrila shouted over the sound of shouting grunters and shattering glass. "These people do not deserve sweets, not while the Bullies still roam the countryside."
Willow whimpered when the grunters began smashing and burning the pastry shop. Smoke soon rose from its roof.
"Topple the church!" Madrila cried. "Burrfield will worship nobody but me."
The grunters ran toward the church and began smashing its bricks with hammers. People were fleeing the buildings. The grunters laughed and swung clubs at them too, showering the streets with blood.
"No!" Willow said, head spinning. "Madrila, how... why...?"
For the first time, Madrila seemed to notice her apprentice. Her smile grew. She walked forward, black robes swishing, wand crackling.
"My dear Willow!" Madrila said and reached out her arms. "You've come to see the destruction. Would you like to destroy a building too?"
Willow gulped. "I... I...."
I think it's horrible,
she wanted to say.
I think the buildings are beautiful. How could you destroy them?
But she dared not speak these things. She had to be evil. Evil witches delighted in destruction.
"I guess I'd like to destroy one or two," she said weakly.
Madrila put a hand on Willow's shoulder. With her other hand, she pointed at the church's spire.
"Do you see that spire?" she said. "It's almost as tall as our tower at Fort Rosethorn. We cannot allow that. Use your hammer spell, the one I taught you last week. Send a blast of magic... and knock it down."
Willow looked at the spire. Four gargoyles frowned down upon her. Stained glass windows glimmered. Willow looked at her feet.
"I can't, my lady," she whispered. "I'm not powerful enough. I could maybe break a window, or... or maybe steal a pastry, or...." She gulped.
"No." Madrila's hand tightened on her shoulder. Her eyes blazed. "You will topple that tower. If you are truly my apprentice, you must cause greater damage than mere grunters. Do it! Break the spire!" Her fingernails dug into Willow's shoulder.
Willow gulped again and raised her wand. She faced the church. Grunters were hacking at its doors and breaking its windows. The spire rose above them. Willow's wand shook in her hand.
"Do it!" Madrila commanded.
Willow shuddered and uttered a spell.
Searing purple light shot from her wand. Rings of power burst forward.
The magic missed the spire... and slammed into the grunters attacking the church doors.
Willow screamed. Madrila hissed. The grunters fell dead.
"No, I... I didn't mean it, I...." Willow spun in horror to face Madrila.
The witch's face was white. Her eyes were wide, horrified, blazing with fury. Her lips pulled back, revealing sharp teeth. Suddenly she no longer looked human; she looked like a wolf, a monster, a terror.
"You killed my grunters," Madrila whispered, voice strained. Her fists trembled. She raised her wand.
"I didn't mean to!" Willow whispered. Her heart thrashed. "I only tried to—"
"You will die for this!" Madrila screamed and pointed her wand. Willow ducked, and lightning blasted over her head.
Bramblebridge barked madly and broke free from her grasp. Willow ran.
"You will die!" Madrila shouted behind her. Willow ducked and rolled. A fireball flew over her head. She leaped up and disappeared into an alley.
"Oh goodness, oh dear, oh God!" Willow cried as she ran. Her knees trembled and her head spun. What would she do? Where could she go? Her boots kicked up dirt. The houses blurred at her sides.
"Catch her!" Madrila screamed. "Grunters, bring her to me."
Willow turned her head. She saw grunters following. She uttered a spell, attempting to sear them with lightning, but gumballs shot out of her wand instead. The grunters slipped on the gumballs and fell. Willow kept running.
She burst into a square, raced across it, ran up a hill, and reached the town gates. Grunters guarded the doors.
"Let me out!" Willow shouted. "Move!"
These grunters had not seen her disgrace. They obeyed her, and soon Willow ran through the forest. Dry leaves flew around her. The trees' branches scratched her. Soon she heard pursuit behind.
"Catch the little wretch!" Madrila screamed in the distance. "Bring her to me."
Willow ran through the forest, tears in her eyes and terror in her heart.
* * * * *
Scruff all but smashed into the roadside inn.
"An entire roast pig!" he bellowed into the dim room. "And three pints of ale!"
"And some baby cawwots!" added Cobweb, a vegetarian.
A crackling fireplace, a wagon wheel chandelier, and ram's horn candleholders lit the common room. Bear rugs covered the hardwood floors and kegs lined the walls. Several people sat at scarred oak tables, huddled over bowls of stew and mugs of ale. Those still sober gasped seeing the huge man and the purple spiderling; the others merely blinked and returned to nursing their mugs.
Scruff made his way to a free table and sat down with a grunt. Cobweb sat beside him.
"Food! Drink!" he called.
A serving girl approached with a tray of mugs. As she set the table, Scruff was careful to stare at the ceiling; he still had a bruise from the last time Cobweb caught him looking too closely at a tavern wench. Soon he forgot all about bruises, wenches, and witches, and lost himself in cold ale. Cobweb tried a sip, spat it out, and meekly ordered some apple juice.
Soon the serving girl returned, carrying a tray with an entire roast pig—complete with an apple in its mouth—and a small bowl of baby carrots. Scruff and Cobweb tucked in.
"Scwuff," Cobweb said as she nibbled on her meal. "Do you tink we shouwd take da food to g-g-go? Dewe's not much t-t-time."
Scruff chewed lustfully. "Mmmm... quest later... food first." He raised his voice. "More gravy!"
Slowly his hunger abated, and his chewing slowed. He was nibbling on bones before he noticed the mournful singing from the corner. He wiped his mouth, frowned, and stared. In the shadows, a lone figure sat at a table. A dozen empty mugs stood there, and the shadowy figure was nursing another one.
"Nobody knows... the trouble I've seen...," sang the shadowy figure and hiccupped.
Scruff hated to abandon his meal, but after a few more bites, curiosity overcame hunger. Chewing a mouthful, he left his table, stepped into the shadows, and approached the singing drunkard. His eyes widened.
"Willow?"
The witch's apprentice gazed up at him, eyes huge and watery. She squinted, struggling to bring him into focus.
"Hey... are you that Scruffy guy?" she asked and hiccupped.
Scruff glared. "My name is Sam Thistle III. Scruff to my friends, so you can call me Sam." He raised his mace, prepared to clobber the girl's head. "What are you doing here, witch?"
She glared at him, looked ready to attack, but then tears filled her eyes. She wept into her palms.
"Oh, I wish I were a witch!" she said. Her body shook. "But I'm only an apprentice, and probably not even that anymore. Oh why can't I be evil?"
She gulped down ale mixed with tears. Her cheeks were red and her hair puffed. She stumbled to her feet, fumbled for her wand, and pointed it at Scruff. It trembled in her hand, she hiccupped, and crashed back into her chair.
Cobweb approached and took the wand from her. "Wet me take dat," she said. "Wiwwow, I tink you've had enough beew."
"I'm evil!" she said and leaped onto the table. "Evi—"
Her eyes rolled backwards and she pitched forward.
Scruff caught her. The girl drooled, snored in his arms, and mumbled. "Puppies... I love puppies...."
A few moments later, Scruff and Cobweb were walking through the forest, pushing a wheelbarrow. Willow lay in the wheelbarrow, her arms and legs tied. She still slept, snoring and occasionally mumbling something about kittens, double rainbows, and baby unicorns. Soon the tavern disappeared behind them.
"Scwuff, awe you suwe dis is wise?" Cobweb asked. Dry leaves glided around her and filled her hair.
He pushed the wheelbarrow over a bump in the road, incurring mumbling from the sleeping girl inside. "Well, I wasn't going to kill her," he said and sighed. "And I ain't leaving her behind to sober up and rejoin Madrila."
"So we'ww j-j-just take hew evewywhewe now?"
Scruff bit his lip, considering. "Yes. She might be worth something to Madrila. I don't know how much..." The girl was now mumbling about fluffy bunnies. "...but it's something. Madrila stole our town, so we stole her apprentice. It's a step in the right direction."
They kept walking through the forest, the wheelbarrow rattling and bumping along. Grasshoppers and caterpillars covered the trail, and squirrels and foxes scurried between the trees. It was a long way to Spidersilk Forest. As he walked, Scruff wondered about the other Bullies. Would Jamie and the elflings tame the dragon? Would Neev and Romy find help in Hell? Their quests seemed more dangerous than his.
I wish I could be there to protect you,
he thought.
They walked for several hours, until the sun began to set. Purple and red wisps spread across the sky, and the trees cast long shadows. Soon Scruff was hungry again, and he found himself wishing for another tavern, another roaring fire, and another roast pig or two. His stomach grumbled. Cobweb walked silently, gazing upon the forest with sad eyes; this was near her home. Willow, meanwhile, still snored in the wheelbarrow.
"We should set camp," Scruff said. "Let's find a clearing to sleep in. I wish we had some food."
Cobweb shook her head. "D-d-dis is not a good pwace to sweep. We awe c-c-cwose to Spidewsiwk Fowest hewe. Diddwywiggwes guawd dis pwace."
"Diddlywiggles?" Scruff asked. "What are those? They sound cute."
Cobweb shook her head wildly, eyes alarmed. "Dey awe not cute! D-d-dey awe guawdians, and dey mostwy come out at n-n-night. Wets keep wawking. We c-c-can go to bed inside Spidewsiwk."