Nightmares of Weirdwood--A William Shivering Tale, page 9
Wally slowly rose to his feet. “Climb a tree, Audrey,” he said, raising his fists.
“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Audrey said, scrambling up the nearest one.
Wally and the wolf began to circle each other, eyes locked.
Arthur didn’t want to see Wally hurt, but his friend had been trained to fight by Sekhmet herself. More important, Arthur had a mission to complete. And he couldn’t have asked for a better distraction.
He huffed twice, trying to get on top of the pain, then forced himself upward, staggering to his feet. As the skinless wolf lunged at Wally, Arthur limped into the mist, hoping to find BW before Rose did something drastic.
* * *
The trees wobbled like black fire in Arthur’s vision as he limped along Ludwig’s giant footprints. He winced in waves of nauseous pain, holding his left arm to his side to keep it from jostling his shoulder. He’d been in enough fights to know this knife wound looked worse than it was. Were it not for Wally’s hesitation and Audrey’s stitches, Arthur might be in serious—
He stumbled and collapsed to his knees. He tried not to retch as black spots formed in front of his eyes. Maybe Wally hadn’t hesitated as much as he’d thought.
“Come on,” Arthur told his legs, willing them to stand.
Rose was escaping with BW. The Wardens were going to lose the Manor, and the Veil would fall, endangering everyone Arthur loved … His legs didn’t budge.
Arthur had power in the DappleWood. He could write materials to make a cast, maybe even summon one of Pyra’s healing potions. But no. Thanks to Cooper, Arthur didn’t have anything to write with.
Grunting in frustration, he tried to push to his feet, but he flopped to the ground instead. His eyelids grew heavy; his eyelashes blurred the wood. He fought against unconsciousness …
“Ehhhhhhh! Ehhhhhhhhh!”
Arthur’s eyes shot open. BW was crying, not too far away. The sound gave him a burst of adrenaline that brought him to his feet. He staggered forward until he saw a light seeping through the dark, misty wood. He followed it to a glowing oval, like a cat’s pupil, nestled in the knot of a twisted tree.
The Manor. He could smell the old wood and perfumes flowing from its halls.
Arthur hid himself behind the nearest trunk and watched as Ludwig, scowling with Rose’s expression, tromped toward the entrance with the screaming baby. Rustmouth, the Astonishment, and Silver Tongue stepped out of the Manor to greet them.
Arthur’s jaw clenched. Was Wally working with the Order?
“Would you spectacle this ickle one?” Rustmouth said, taking BW from the giant and holding her before his brown smile. “All that imagication, reducted to mere dribbles and nappies.”
“Pee-yew!” Silver Tongue said, plugging her nose. “And I thought the old lady stank.”
The Astonishment ran a rocky finger over the baby’s tiny pink head.
“Get away from her!” Arthur said, limping out from behind the tree.
He didn’t care about his safety right then. Only Lady Weirdwood’s.
Rustmouth’s face twitched with fear, then recovered in a wide grin when he saw Arthur’s blood-soaked shirt. “Well now! If it ain’t the little godling come a-limping to the rescue.”
The Astonishment cracked her stone knuckles and took a heavy step toward Arthur. Rustmouth raised a hand to stop her, placing the other on his yellowed cheek. “Allow me, Astonishment. I owe this kiddle a touch of accidentistry.”
Rustmouth strolled toward Arthur as though he had all the time in the world. As though he was savoring Arthur’s fear.
Arthur wavered but stood his ground. “If you come any closer, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” Rustmouth glanced around the wood. “Whatcha gonna attackle me with in this quaint little DapplyWood, eh? Cobblestones? Kitten snores?”
Arthur backed away. He had no plan. He had no pages. All he could do was keep the Order distracted until something, anything came along.
“See,” Rustmouth said, taking another step, “my teeths is my thrivelihood. And your little lies plied one away from me. So I’m gonna take one of your valuabilities. You’s an authorish Arthur, ain’t ya? Let’s see how well you scribble sans a finger or three.”
The man chomped his rusted teeth in the air—chomp chomp chomp—causing Arthur to trip over his own feet and hit the ground hard. He pushed away from Rustmouth, fingers throbbing with his wound. Arthur’s back hit the tree trunk, and he couldn’t find the energy to move around it. He slunk down, tipping on the edge of unconsciousness as Rustmouth chomped closer and closer—chomp chomp chomp—the sound of his sickening teeth echoing through the trees.
Three steps before Rustmouth reached Arthur, a horrific howl filled the woods. The howl doubled, then tripled, punctuated with yips and snarls. Rustmouth slowly turned as three skinless wolves padded into sight. One was missing an eye—Amelia—but Arthur couldn’t identify the other two. The Wardens were still above their fear.
“This chomplicates things,” Rustmouth said, rubbing his scratchy chin. He grinned down at Arthur. “Lucky for me, I gots a snackling for them.” He waved his arms in the air. “Come and get it, ya wolvies! Here’s some tenderfied veal for ya, bloodied and shreddy to serve! You’s can help me with the chewin’!”
The wolves padded closer, snarling their skinless lips. This was not the rescue Arthur had been hoping for. In their monster forms, the Wardens would devour Rustmouth and him without a second thought.
With Rustmouth’s back turned, Arthur searched for an escape. He saw the tree bark inches from his nose, blank as a black canvas. He saw the blood seeping through his shirt. It wasn’t paper and pen, but it would do. But what could he write? There was nothing in the DappleWood that could take down the Order or a pack of skinless wolves. It was all soft edges and lovely breezes.
Arthur’s thoughts were a shadowy mush. If Wally hadn’t stabbed him, he might be able to think of a solution. Instead, he was bleeding out, as helpless as … Linus.
Arthur lifted a trembling finger and swiped blood from his shoulder. He wrote on the bark.
AROOOOOOOOO!
A new howl descended over the wood. It echoed from somewhere far away but filled the forest nonetheless. Rustmouth spun around to see if a skinless wolf was sneaking up behind him and found Arthur smiling.
“What are you toothin’ at?” Rustmouth asked.
Arthur nodded behind the man.
AROOOOOOOOO!
AROOOOOOOOO!
AROOOOOOOOO!
The wolves had dropped to their bellies and sides, writhing beneath some invisible force. Their muscles inverted into skin as their ears and muzzles shrank to normal size. Their bones snapped and shifted, so paws became fingers. Forelegs straightened into arms. Tails melted completely until only Amelia, Willa, and Ahura remained.
They were badly beat-up. Their weapons were lost. But the Wardens had returned.
Amelia stood straight, cracking her neck back into place. She pointed at Rustmouth. “Get away from him!”
Rustmouth blanched in shock, then retreated to the Manor’s tree-knot entrance. “It’s too late, Boredens! You’ve bungled your baby bunting and now we’s got her trundled!”
Amelia crouched over Arthur and cradled his head. Her right hand, her whip hand, was bleeding from the pitchfork wound. “How did you bring us back, Arthur?”
Arthur nodded to the bark, and she squinted at the bloody words.
He had written instructions for Pyra’s cauldron, currently filled with DappleWood ingredients that he could control, making them bubble and froth with words. The words told the chef to give her voice-enhancing potion to Linus and instruct him to howl in pain, making his voice travel all the way to the heart of the forest.
What better way to make skinless wolves afraid than to make them believe they might lose a loved one?
“Clever boy,” Amelia whispered. She turned to the others. “Linus is safe!”
Ahura put a hand to her chest, and her face broke in relief.
Amelia continued. “One of us needs to return to the DappleWood and tell the townsfolk to let themselves be afraid. That’s the only way they’ll be spared this forest and its monsters.”
Ahura took off through the trees at a sprint.
Amelia yanked a vine from a tree’s trunk, coiling it into a whip with her uninjured hand. Willa raised her fingers toward the sky, and leaves tumbled from the branches to form kites with razor-sharp edges.
The two women, the only Wardens left, stood and faced the Order.
“Uh uh uh,” Silver Tongue said, petting BW’s bald little head. “I’d throw down those weapons if I was you.”
Scowling, Willa squeezed her fists, and the leaf kites disintegrated. Amelia let the whip drop to the ground. She caught Arthur’s attention and briefly glanced toward the forest canopy.
Arthur followed her gaze and found Audrey hunched on a branch that overhung the Manor’s entrance, caramel eyes glittering in the mist. With a few words written in blood on bark he could make the ferret drop down and grab BW. He could get the Manor back. But Arthur had promised the sweet ferret he would never control her again.
He subtly shook his head at Amelia and mouthed, I’m sorry.
Never had she scowled so horribly.
The Manor’s entrance darkened, and Graham stepped out. He wore Lady Weirdwood’s snake around his shoulders. He looked much healthier than he had the last time Arthur saw him. But he still held up his hand as if it wore a puppet.
“If you would be so kind,” the hand told the Astonishment, “there’s a pesky ferret directly above us that could pounce any moment.”
The Astonishment looked up and spotted Audrey. She wrapped her rocky arms around the trunk and jostled it until the ferret slipped from the branch and fell. Audrey hit the ground hard, striking her head. She did not get back up.
Arthur’s heart broke. He watched the ferret’s chest, making sure she was still breathing. He could feel Amelia’s blue eye burning through him, telling him he had made a mistake. He didn’t look at her.
Graham’s hand turned to Willa and Amelia. “Wardens!” it said pleasantly. “Finally, we meet.”
9
BW
Wally circled the skinless wolf, who snarled, guttural and menacing. It was Sekhmet. He could tell by her green eyes and the sword between her fangs. Even when his old mentor transformed into a horrific monster, she still held tight to her weapon.
Wally raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t know if you can understand me, Sekhmet, but we don’t have to hurt each other.”
The wolf’s snarl deepened, and Wally swallowed. He turned his hands into fists and prepared to be eaten.
AROOOOOOOOO!
A new howl filled the wood. It seemed to emanate from the sky.
Sekhmet collapsed to her side in paw-twitching, lip-curling spasms. The sword fell from her teeth, and she started to shrink.
Wally didn’t wait to see what happened next. He followed Arthur’s blood trail to the cat-eye glow of the Manor’s tree-knot entrance, where he crouched in the mist and assessed the situation. The Order—Rustmouth, Silver Tongue, the Astonishment, and Ludwig/Rose—blocked the Manor’s entrance. Willa and Amelia stood before them, weaponless. Arthur lay slumped against a nearby tree whose bark was covered in bloody words.
And in the middle of it all was Wally’s brother, puppet hand raised.
“Please, Graham,” Amelia said. “Give us Lady Weirdwood. You can take the Manor. But we cannot have our lady hurt.”
Graham’s hand sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. If the Manor is a puzzle, Lady Weirdwood is its missing piece. You’ll pursue us to the ends of the Veil to get her back.” The hand smiled at the baby, who sniffled in Ludwig/Rose’s arms. “I’m going to hide her somewhere you’ll never find. Somewhere she’ll age at a regular pace and never even hear of magic.” The hand gave her a tiny kiss on the head, then turned to Amelia. “Then the great tearing of the Veil will begin. The Fae and the Real will find a new Balance that gives magic to the people and resources to the Fae-born.”
With that, Graham turned toward the Manor.
“Say buh-bye!” Silver Tongue shrieked, taking the baby’s pudgy arm and waving it at Amelia and Willa.
Halfway to the entrance, Graham paused and turned to find Wally’s eyes in the mist. His hand nodded toward the Manor. “Brother?”
Wally, caught, stepped into the open, directly between the opposing sides.
“Wally!” Amelia called. “We’ll forgive you for taking the Manor. You can be a Novitiate again if you help us get it back!”
Wally gave her a helpless look. Amelia was clearly hoping he had some sort of power over his brother. That he could somehow talk Graham into giving up the Manor. But that wasn’t how this worked.
“Brother,” Graham said, lowering his puppet hand. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”
Wally stared into his brother’s eyes. “I don’t know, Graham. Have you?”
Graham smiled with their parents’ smile. “You’ll see. When this is all over, you’ll see.”
When Wally still didn’t move, Amelia snatched up her vine whip and Willa raised her hands, reassembling her leaf kites in the air.
“Better to see Lady Weirdwood hurt than lose the Veil,” Amelia said, twirling her whip.
The Astonishment cracked one fist into the other. Rustmouth grinned drippingly. Silver Tongue, giggling, took out her flask.
Before either side could make a move, a glow fell upon the forest. The Order and the Wardens fell silent as golden tendrils twined strangely around them, igniting coils throughout the mist. They rose and swirled around the branches, then lowered and circled the roots before making zigzags through the air. Almost like they were … playing.
“About bloody time,” Amelia said.
The golden tendrils came together, uniting in a single, small cloud. The cloud seemed to notice Wally and arrowed straight toward him, making him stumble back, raising his hands to protect his face.
The moment before the cloud enveloped him, it formed a face and body and streaming hair. It threw up its hands, releasing an explosion of golden dust like fireworks.
“WAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”
Wally got to his feet and blinked. “Breeth?”
“Uh, yeah! Duh! Do you know any other girls who can spore up to you and do this?”
Breeth wrapped herself around him like a hazy coat.
“Hiya, Breeth,” Wally said, hugging her back. Tears of happiness spilled down his cheeks.
Breeth unwound herself from his torso and used her sporey hands to cradle his cheeks and chin. “Let me look at this face. This is the best face. I’d smooch it again if my lips weren’t spores right now.” She released him and swirled in a dusty, golden spiral. “Oh my gosh, I have so much to tell you!”
“Um, Breeth?” Wally said, trying to interrupt her.
But Breeth was bursting with an excitement that could not be contained. “Okay, so when did you see me last? Oh, right! I left my body and went and got spores from the Mycopath to save Arthur from getting eaten by a dragon! Ha ha. And that’s only, like, chapter one!”
“Breeth—”
“Chapter two is that I thought I was gonna be lost forever in fake heaven. It was sooooooo boring. Like, sure, I had the spores to keep me company—like Lemon and Peabody and what I call the Gary division. But, and please don’t tell them I said this”—she put a hand to her mouth to whisper—“they’re not the best conversationalists.”
“Breeth!” Wally said, fighting down a laugh. “I want to hear about all of this, but now really isn’t the time.”
He pointed behind her, and Breeth spun around to find everyone staring at her. With the spores lending her shape, this was the first time they had seen her in ghost form. Willa looked confused. Amelia looked pleased. The Order looked afraid. And Arthur had covered his nose and mouth to protect himself from the spores.
Finally, Graham wore an expression that Wally had never seen on him before: pure shock. His brother hadn’t seen this coming.
Breeth curtsied her spores. “Evening, everybody!” With the spores vibrating in her throat like vocal cords, they could hear her too.
Everyone was too shocked to respond.
“Sheesh,” Breeth said, gazing at the standoff. “This looks intense. Good thing I learned a few tricks since you last saw me. The Order won’t know what hit ’em”—she punched her sporey fist into her sporey hand—“until I tell them it was me!”
“Breeth, wait,” Wally said.
She whirled. “What is it? I’m roarin’ for some sporin’.”
Wally bit his lip. He’d been gearing up to explain to Breeth why he’d stolen the Manor. But it seemed she had no idea he had.
Wally looked to the Wardens and the Order, who stood frozen, waiting to see what the all-powerful ghost girl would do. If Graham couldn’t foresee the ghost girl’s actions, did her presence mean Wally could make his own decision? One that didn’t follow the Order or the Wardens?
Wally pointed to Lady Weirdwood in Ludwig/Rose’s arms. “Can you bring me that baby?”
“Psh,” Breeth said. “You’re saying that like I’ve never saved a baby from monsters before. What’s her name? Just so she doesn’t freak out when she sees a ghost made out of mushroom spores.”
“Um, that’s Lady Weirdwood.”
Breeth’s eyes went wide.
“And that’s Rose holding her.”
“What?” Breeth’s expression crumpled into anger. “Rose is not safe for babies.”
She rocketed toward the entrance.
“Inside!” Graham commanded the Order with urgency. He ran toward the Manor’s entrance, holding the snake tight to his chest.
“Unto the breach!” Amelia screamed, whirling her vine whip.
“Breeth!” Breeth screamed above her. “My name is Breeth!”
Wally watched with gritted teeth as Amelia and Willa charged the tree’s entrance. Before Graham and the Order could retreat into the Manor, Ludwig began to struggle, like a tree infested with termites.
