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Authors: Daniel Arenson
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night, but we can climb the wall. Old Farmer Larva has been stacking his hay by the eastern wall; he says no crows dare fly near Rosethorn. We'll jump down into his hay, then go find Romy and Jamie."
Hopefully alive, he thought, stomach twisting.
* * * * *
"The Bullies are in jail!" Willow cried and hopped for joy. "In jail, Madrila! All because of me!"
They stood in Madrila's small, shadowy study. Fewer items cluttered the place—Willow had cleaned the shards of everything Madrila had smashed after her slinkers died. Still, quite a few items covered the shelves and tables. Willow saw skulls with crystal eyes, steaming pots of potions, vials of poison, mummified cats, jars of bat wings, dream catchers, scrolls, spellbooks, wands, and countless other objects.
In the center of the room, Madrila sat upon her black leather chair, legs crossed. She wore black robes, a pointy hat, and a necklace of bones. For the first time in days, she smiled.
"Is that so, Willow?" she said. "In jail, you say?"
"Uh huh!" Willow raised her chin proudly, giddy with excitement. "See, I framed them for murder. I did have to sacrifice the slinkers...." She winced, but Madrila was still smiling, so she plowed on. "But it was worth it, and all part of my plan, of course. The Bullies are now imprisoned in Burrfield's dungeon. We're free to storm the town, kill its pitiful defenders, and take over Fort Rosethorn."
Willow's heart pounded, and her head spun with joy. Surely, now Madrila would teach her some spells—powerful and evil ones. Finally she—humble Willow, a lumberjack's daughter—would become a dreaded witch.
"You did well, my dear apprentice," Madrila said. She tapped her whorled, golden wand against her thigh. "Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you'll amount to something after all."
Willow nodded. "Thank you, my lady. Do you think that...." She gulped and clasped her fingers behind her back. This was the moment of truth. "Do you think that, before we attack Burrfield, you could teach me a new spell? Something really nasty and evil . I want to be evil like you."
For an instant, anger flashed across Madrila's eyes... but it soon vanished. The witch sighed. "You will never be as evil as me. Nobody is as evil as me. But since you pleased me today, I will teach you a spell."
"A nasty evil one?"
Madrila nodded. "A downright beastly spell."
"Hooray!" Willow leaped for joy, then collected herself. She cleared her throat and steepled her fingers. "I mean... excellent, my lady." She attempted an evil cackle. It sounded to her more like a giggle, but Madrila seemed not to notice.
The witch stepped toward the shelves and began pulling off jars and leather pouches. She tossed them to Willow, who caught them and held them in her arms, soon wobbling under the weight.
"Piglet snouts," Madrila said, tossing a pouch of them. "Monkey fingernails... snake eyes...." She tossed a couple jars. "Let's see, let's see... ah, here we go. Mermaid scales, very rare." She tossed a box to Willow. "What else? Oh yes, some lovely unicorn blood." She threw the vial. "And finally, a bottle of dragon drool."
As Willow struggled to catch and hold the ingredients, she also struggled to remember them. What was it? Monkey blood? Pig scales? Unicorn tails? Oh dear, being evil is so complicated.
Madrila approached an empty cauldron placed over embers.
"Come here, Willow. I will teach you this brew."
Willow walked toward the cauldron, a hill of ingredients wobbling in her arms. This time I won't make cookie dough, she swore. This time I'll create something so horrible, Madrila will know I'm evil—almost as evil as she is.
"What are we making, my lady?"
"I will teach you how to create a monster. I used similar spells to create my grunters. You will create a beast—a terror your mind will invent. Add the snake eyes first. Only two of them."
Willow placed the items on a table and rummaged. She found the jar of snake eyes, opened it, and spilled two into
Hopefully alive, he thought, stomach twisting.
* * * * *
"The Bullies are in jail!" Willow cried and hopped for joy. "In jail, Madrila! All because of me!"
They stood in Madrila's small, shadowy study. Fewer items cluttered the place—Willow had cleaned the shards of everything Madrila had smashed after her slinkers died. Still, quite a few items covered the shelves and tables. Willow saw skulls with crystal eyes, steaming pots of potions, vials of poison, mummified cats, jars of bat wings, dream catchers, scrolls, spellbooks, wands, and countless other objects.
In the center of the room, Madrila sat upon her black leather chair, legs crossed. She wore black robes, a pointy hat, and a necklace of bones. For the first time in days, she smiled.
"Is that so, Willow?" she said. "In jail, you say?"
"Uh huh!" Willow raised her chin proudly, giddy with excitement. "See, I framed them for murder. I did have to sacrifice the slinkers...." She winced, but Madrila was still smiling, so she plowed on. "But it was worth it, and all part of my plan, of course. The Bullies are now imprisoned in Burrfield's dungeon. We're free to storm the town, kill its pitiful defenders, and take over Fort Rosethorn."
Willow's heart pounded, and her head spun with joy. Surely, now Madrila would teach her some spells—powerful and evil ones. Finally she—humble Willow, a lumberjack's daughter—would become a dreaded witch.
"You did well, my dear apprentice," Madrila said. She tapped her whorled, golden wand against her thigh. "Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you'll amount to something after all."
Willow nodded. "Thank you, my lady. Do you think that...." She gulped and clasped her fingers behind her back. This was the moment of truth. "Do you think that, before we attack Burrfield, you could teach me a new spell? Something really nasty and evil . I want to be evil like you."
For an instant, anger flashed across Madrila's eyes... but it soon vanished. The witch sighed. "You will never be as evil as me. Nobody is as evil as me. But since you pleased me today, I will teach you a spell."
"A nasty evil one?"
Madrila nodded. "A downright beastly spell."
"Hooray!" Willow leaped for joy, then collected herself. She cleared her throat and steepled her fingers. "I mean... excellent, my lady." She attempted an evil cackle. It sounded to her more like a giggle, but Madrila seemed not to notice.
The witch stepped toward the shelves and began pulling off jars and leather pouches. She tossed them to Willow, who caught them and held them in her arms, soon wobbling under the weight.
"Piglet snouts," Madrila said, tossing a pouch of them. "Monkey fingernails... snake eyes...." She tossed a couple jars. "Let's see, let's see... ah, here we go. Mermaid scales, very rare." She tossed a box to Willow. "What else? Oh yes, some lovely unicorn blood." She threw the vial. "And finally, a bottle of dragon drool."
As Willow struggled to catch and hold the ingredients, she also struggled to remember them. What was it? Monkey blood? Pig scales? Unicorn tails? Oh dear, being evil is so complicated.
Madrila approached an empty cauldron placed over embers.
"Come here, Willow. I will teach you this brew."
Willow walked toward the cauldron, a hill of ingredients wobbling in her arms. This time I won't make cookie dough, she swore. This time I'll create something so horrible, Madrila will know I'm evil—almost as evil as she is.
"What are we making, my lady?"
"I will teach you how to create a monster. I used similar spells to create my grunters. You will create a beast—a terror your mind will invent. Add the snake eyes first. Only two of them."
Willow placed the items on a table and rummaged. She found the jar of snake eyes, opened it, and spilled two into
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