It was almost dusk when she found Haywood squatting beside the fire, feeding the flames with kindling. A filleted fish lay on a rock beside a pot of water. “I was hoping you’d come back today, my sweet precious, at least to tell me how things were going,” he said after they greeted each other with a kiss. “Would you like some fish stew? It won’t take long.”
“I’m too nervous to eat,” Grassina replied. Then she sat down to tell him what she had done and why she had come back when she did. Haywood nodded but didn’t interrupt, for which Grassina was grateful. Telling him about her family and the werewolves was already hard enough. “But I think I’ll need your help,” she said when she’d finished. “You know things about magic that I don’t. Together we might know enough to make this work.”
Haywood took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I’d go in your stead if I could, but I know my magic isn’t strong enough to defeat a pack of werewolves. And your magic hasn’t been fully tested. I’m not sure if our magic combined—”
“It has to be,” said Grassina. “Someone has to deal with them before the kingdom is overrun. They’re getting bolder all the time. They’ve already been seen near the castle. It won’t be long before they turn one of our own men into a werewolf and get inside the castle, too. Greater Greensward needs us, my darling. There isn’t time to waste. I’ll be leaving as soon as it gets dark. The werewolf whiskers Mother gave me to track them will work only at night.”
“And your father . . .”
“He can’t help us. He doesn’t even know how to help himself yet. And my mother isn’t interested, although to be frank, if she were, she might side with the werewolves instead of us. It really is up to you and me.”
Haywood sighed and got to his feet. “Let me get my things. I’ll be ready in just a minute.”
“You mean you’ll come?” asked Grassina, her eyes shining.
“Of course. I would never let you do this by yourself.”
Grassina collected her spear and was leaving the hut that Haywood had finished in her absence when Pippa wriggled through the interwoven branches, landing on the ground in front of her. “What are you doing here?” Grassina asked, startled.
“Making ssure that you don’t leave me behind again. You have a habit of doing that.”
“Sorry. I didn’t dare take you to the castle. It would have been too hard to hide you from my mother.”
“I’ll forgive you thiss time,” said Pippa. “At leasst I had Haywood for company. Did you know that he’ss very good at finding mice?”
“I thought you looked a little plumper.”
“Are you almost ready?” Haywood called from the head of the path. “It’s nearly dark out.”
“We’re both coming,” Grassina replied as she picked up the little snake. “We have one more weapon to take with us. Pippa wants to go, too.”
The stars were shining overhead as they neared the edge of the forest. Grassina reached into her sack, took out the whiskers, and held them up to the light of Haywood’s witches’ ball.
“These are the werewolf whiskers that Mother gave me,” she said. “They don’t look like much, do they?” She turned them over in her hand and bit her lip while she thought. “Do you have any idea what to do with them? Mother forgot to tell me.”
Haywood shrugged. “I’ve never seen anyone do tracking magic. Have you?”
“It wasn’t included in my deportment lessons. I don’t know if Mother ever showed Chartreuse either. I guess I’ll have to make up something again. I hate doing this, but here goes.”
Holding the hairs on the palm of her hand, Grassina thought for a minute, then said,
As a bird flies to its nest
And a fox runs to its den,
Show us where the werewolves are—
The wolves now, not the men.
“I hope it workss,” said Pippa. “That wass really awful.”
“Don’t be so critical,” said Grassina. “I’m new at this, remember?”
“Look,” said Haywood. “They’re changing color.”
At first it was difficult to see in the flickering light of the torch, but it soon became obvious that the whiskers were turning red. Before long they were glowing a brilliant scarlet. Rising into the air, they rotated until they were both pointing in the same direction, and then they took off like two flaming arrows.
“Hurry!” shouted Grassina, sprinting after the whiskers. “I don’t have any more. If we lose sight of those, we’ll never find the werewolves!”
“Too bad you didn’t usse one at a time!” Pippa said into her ear.
“Don’t you think I know that now?” puffed Grassina.
“Save your breath for running,” said Haywood. “Look, they’re over that ravine.”
While Haywood slid down the steep incline, Grassina picked her way more carefully, grabbing hold of branches and crouching when she slipped. Haywood had almost reached the top of the other side when he saw two glowing lines waiting just above his head. He was reaching for Grassina’s hand to help her out of the ravine when the whiskers took off again.
“They went that way!” Grassina shouted, stumbling when Haywood jerked her toward him and started running.
Concentrating on keeping up with the racing red streaks, running without regard to being stealthy or quiet, Grassina and Haywood soon forgot why they were running. They kept going until their lungs burned and they had stabbing pains in their sides. They ran until they thought they couldn’t run anymore, then they stopped thinking and just put one foot in front of the other. When the whiskers finally grew still and hovered over the remains of a fallen log, Grassina and Haywood didn’t notice at first and nearly stumbled past them. In the distance, the full moon rising behind the castle showed them exactly how far they had gone.
“Do you see . . . the werewolves?” Grassina asked, gasping for air.
“Is that . . . them . . . by those rocks?” Haywood whispered back, pointing beyond the last of the trees at a jumble of boulders. A shape moved, jumping onto the tallest rock so that the body was silhouetted against the night sky. Larger than an ordinary wolf, the creature was more muscular as well, as if he were a throwback to a beast of an earlier age that had required greater size and strength to survive.
When the werewolf turned his head and looked directly at them, Grassina whispered, “He knows we’re here! Look, the others are spreading out. They’ll surround us if they can!”
“If we could keep them together somehow . . . ,” said Haywood.
“That gives me an idea,” said Grassina, “but I’m going to need your help.” Unwrapping the blanket she had wrapped around the basket of lightning bugs, she set it on the ground and stepped back.
“What is that?” asked Haywood.
“Some very angry insects,” said Grassina. “You’re good at controlling birds and such. Can you tell these bugs to circle around the werewolves and draw them together?”
“Now that I can do,” said Haywood. Flexing his fingers, he pointed at the basket and murmured something under his breath. “Go!” he said in a louder voice and kicked the basket over.
As the lid fell off, the angrily buzzing swarm of lightning bugs hopped, skittered, crawled, and flew straight at the pack, shedding sparks along the way. The lone werewolf poised atop the pile of boulders leapt to the ground and began padding toward Grassina and Haywood. The first lightning bugs hit him in the chest, shocking him so that he fell back, whining and snapping at his fur. Other werewolves tried to bypass their stricken leader until the bugs flew at their eyes and they, too, were driven back. Bugs hopped into their open mouths and crawled over their paws, shooting sparks and shocking them at each point of contact. With sparks lighting the way, the lightning bugs herded the werewolves back toward the rocks. Even after they’d rounded up the entire pack, the bugs continued to shoot off sparks so that it looked like an invisible fire was burning in the forest.
While Haywood strode purposefully toward the pack of werewolves, Grassina followed with her spear poised to throw, just in case.
“What have you done?” snarled the werewolf who had watched them from the rocks. “Get these things away from us now or I’ll rip out your throat!”
“Isn’t that what you plan to do anyway?” Grassina asked.
“You understood it?” asked Haywood. “What did it say?”
“I suppose you have to have been an animal to understand one,” said Grassina. “Maybe you can try being one someday. The beast was threatening us, that’s all.” Turning back to the werewolf, she pointed her spear at him, saying, “Your threats mean little to me. I can kill you whenever I choose. However, if you promise to leave this kingdom, I’ll let you go on the condition that you never come back.”
“Leave the . . . Have those insects crawled through your ear holes and infested your brain? We’re not making any deals with you! You’re a human and nothing more. When I get past these pests . . .” The werewolf swatted at a lightning bug and yelped when it shocked him. Swiping at his paw with his tongue, the werewolf glared at Grassina. “I’ll find a way to get around these bugs. When I do, I’ll eat your heart while it’s still beating.”
“Grasssina,” Pippa whispered into her ear. “Bad luck. I think that sspell iss wearing off.”
“What spell? You mean . . . Oh!” Although the lightning bugs had formed a flashing, sparking wall only moments before, large gaps were beginning to appear as insects deserted one after the other, called away by the clear night sky and the temptations of the forest floor.
The head of the werewolf pack was still watching them when Grassina whispered to Haywood, telling him about the spell. “That’s one thing about my kind of magic,” replied Haywood as they both backed away. “You can’t go against a creature’s nature if you want the spell to last. They are only insects after all. We can’t really expect them to act like anything else for long.”
“I wish you’d told me this before!” said Grassina. “Can’t you repeat your spell?”
“I could, but it wouldn’t do anything. My spells never work a second time on the same batch of animals.”
Grassina frowned and reached into the leather bag. “I suppose I could try this,” she said, pulling out the tooth on the chain.
“What kind of animal did that come from?” asked Haywood.
“I was hoping that you could tell me.”
Haywood shrugged. “I’ve never seen anything like it, but whatever it was it must have been big. Look at the size of that thing.”
“I hope it was mean, too,” said Grassina. “Mean enough to take on a pack of werewolves. But I guess we’re about to find out. Here goes.” Holding the tooth at arm’s length, Grassina said,
Use this tooth to let us see
That which you were meant to be.
When you are what you’ll become,
Chase the wicked werewolves from
This, the kingdom we love so.
Do not tarry, don’t be slow.
While saying the last few words, Grassina tossed the tooth outside the ring of fire and waited. The tooth landed behind a patch of ferns so at first they couldn’t see it. Then the plants began to shake, twitching violently as an oversized manlike head appeared. Covered with a great mane of tawny hair, the creature opened his mouth wide, showing three rows of teeth, identical to the one from which a golden chain still dangled.
As a tawny back arched above the ferns, a musky smell reached Haywood and Grassina. A trencher-sized paw crushed the plants flat, cracking a branch beside them with a sharp report. When the beast shook himself, a tail tipped with a dense ball of bone and fur twitched, thudding as it hit the ground. Turning to face the werewolves, the horse-sized beast roared, sounding more like a trumpet than a living creature.
“That’s a manticore. I’ve seen drawings of them, but never the real thing,” Haywood whispered to Grassina. “He’s magnificent!”
“I don’t care what he is as long as he gets rid of the werewolves,” Grassina replied.
Pippa peeked out of Grassina’s sleeve. “How will you get rid of the manticore once he’ss chassed away the werewolvess?”
Grassina bit her lip. “That’s a good question.”
“I could bite him if you need me to,” offered the little snake.
“Thanks,” said Grassina, “but I hope that won’t be necessary.”
Having heard the manticore, the werewolves turned to face this newest threat. When they growled deep in their throats, Haywood put his arm around Grassina and drew her closer to his side. Walking stiff-legged, the werewolves approached the rocks, the fur bristling along their spines. The manticore crouched down, his tail twitching behind him as he eyed the closest werewolf. Suddenly, the beast leapt from atop the rocks, snatched the werewolf in his jaws, tossed it into the air, and caught it on the way down. The werewolf struggled to free itself and actually succeeded for a moment. Then the manticore pounced on it again, batted it with a paw, and let it go just to knock it down again.
“The manticore is playing with the werewolf the way a cat does a mouse,” Grassina whispered to Haywood.
He nodded. “It seems we got what we wanted. Those monsters don’t stand a chance.”
When the werewolf no longer responded, the manticore bit off its head with a horrifying crunch and flung the body aside like a broken toy. Another werewolf approached from behind, so the manticore swung his tail, crushing the creature’s skull with one blow of the ball. The carcass hadn’t even hit the ground before the rest of the pack turned tail and ran as fast as they could with the manticore close on their heels.
Grassina shuddered and looked away. “I should have used my spear on them. At least then they’d be turned back into humans and not . . . not . . .”
“Eaten?” said Haywood. “Except you never could have turned them all back. One of them would have gotten to you first, and then you would have been missing a few vital organs.”
“Maybe, but what that monster just did makes me sick to my stomach.”
“What do you have in mind now?” asked Haywood.
“We’ll go to the castle and tell them what happened. Will you go with me?”
“As far as the gates, but I’m not going inside,” Haywood said. “I don’t think this is the right time to meet your family.”
Hand in hand, they started toward the castle, studying the field around them with wary eyes. “Do you see that?” Haywood said suddenly. “There, by those trees. It looks like . . . Yes, I think it is. The manticore is back!”
As the manticore bounded across the farmer’s field, Grassina turned to face the beast, gripping her spear firmly. “I wish I knew what he wanted.”
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good,” said Haywood. “Manticores aren’t known for being overly friendly.”
The manticore stopped only a dozen yards from them and crouched, his wicked-looking tail flicking across his back like an angry pendulum. “You got what you wanted,” growled the beast. “I killed a few and scared off the rest.” He took a step closer, his shaggy head weaving from side to side. “They won’t be back as long as they can smell my scent, which is why you won’t kill me.” Another step and the beast seemed impossibly huge. “If you did, you’d have to face the werewolves all over again.”
As the manticore continued his approach, Grassina backed away, uncertain if she should throw her spear or not. One more step and his eyes were boring into hers. “You said I should be quick. Was I too fast for you? I got back before you could run away. I’m sure that wasn’t part of your plan. I’m sure this wasn’t either.”
In a fraction of a second, the manticore rushed at Grassina, knocked the spear from her hand, and swatted her so that she flew into the air. It happened so fast that all she had time to think about was that she was going to die. She didn’t realize that she was screaming until her throat hurt. Closing her eyes, she expected to hit the ground hard, but suddenly something soft and fluttery enfolded her in its embrace. Her eyelids flew open. A cloud of moths had surrounded her, breaking her fall. “Haywood!” she breathed as the moths laid her on the ground, then scattered into the night.
Although Grassina was on her feet in an instant, the manticore was already there. This time when the beast batted at her, a flock of owls caught her clothes in their talons and lowered her gently to the farmer’s field. She had no intention of playing the manticore’s game of cat and mouse, so when the beast pounced on her and rolled her over with its paw, she shouted, “Now, Pippa, bite him!”
Growling deep in his throat, the manticore pinned her to the ground with his paws, letting his decay-scented breath wash over her. Up close, his shaggy head was even bigger than she’d thought; it was at least three times the size of hers, with a mouth large enough to swallow her head and shoulders in one bite. The monster’s drool was running into Grassina’s ear when Pippa slithered out of her sleeve. Winding herself around the manticore’s leg, the snake latched on with her fangs.
A strange look came into the beast’s too-human eyes. As the little snake’s venom coursed through the monster’s veins, the manticore swayed and shook his head. His pupils were dilated, and his breathing was shallow when he slumped toward Grassina. Certain the creature was collapsing just like the werewolf had when Pippa bit it, Grassina tried to squirm out from under him. Instead of crushing her, however, the manticore shook his head again as if he had just awakened from a deep sleep, blinked, and said, “My! I feel so relaxed!”
“Uh oh,” said Pippa. “That wass not ssuppossed to happen!”
Grassina tried not to flinch when the manticore smiled down at her, grinning so broadly that it looked as if his face might split in two. “I did what you wanted,” he said. “Now I’m going to do what I want. You never said that I couldn’t eat you.”
“I wish you—” began Grassina.
“Uh, uh, uh,” said the manticore, covering her mouth with his paw. “No magic spells out of you, witch!”
“Hey, monster, over here!” shouted Haywood.
The beast’s great head swung toward the young wizard, his eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “Wait your turn. I’ll get to you next.”
Grassina struggled to breathe, but the manticore’s huge paw covered her mouth and her nose. She was writhing under the weight, desperate to break free, when Pippa sank her fangs into the manticore’s leg, but without enough time to replenish her venom, her bites had little effect.
Then Haywood shouted, and a moment later the man-ticore screamed. When he suddenly lifted his paw from her mouth, Grassina gasped for air.
“Ow!” exclaimed the manticore. “Those things can bite! Ow! That hurts!” Plopping down on his haunches, the manticore kicked at his head with his hind foot, then began twisting and thrashing as he snapped at his sides.
“Run!” Pippa said into Grassina’s ear, sliding beneath the neck of her tunic.
The beast was rolling on the ground whining when Grassina scrambled out of the way and turned to look. Fire ants were streaming across the monster’s fur, biting as they went.
“Quick, over here!” said Haywood, taking her hand. Riddled with crevices, the boulders offered more shelter than anything else they could reach. As they ran, Haywood used his magic to call a bat to lead them to a hiding place. They followed the little creature, climbing over the boulders while the manticore continued to rage. The opening the bat had found was awkwardly placed halfway up the pile of boulders, and almost too narrow for Haywood’s shoulders. He squirmed in first, then helped Grassina wriggle through. The manticore had followed them and was sniffing at the bottom of the pile as Grassina pulled her feet in after her.
“Do you have anything elsse in that bag that could help?” asked Pippa.
Grassina shook her head. “That was all I had. I can try to think of a spell, but I’m not very good at it.”
“Ah!” said the manticore from outside their hole. “Here you are!”
Grassina lurched backward when the manticore’s paw reached inside to grope the air only inches away from her. “I know you’re in there! Do you honestly think a few rocks are going to stop me?”
“About that spell . . . ,” said Haywood.
A grinding sound made them scoot as far from the opening as they could manage. The manticore was moving the boulders, trying to force his way inside. “I can’t think when he’s doing that!” said Grassina.
Haywood sat back and placed the wooden box on his lap. “Then I guess it’s up to me. I was hoping I’d never have to try this, but I don’t have any choice. What I’m about to do is very dangerous, so don’t come any closer.”
Grassina held her breath while Haywood muttered a spell and removed the lid of the wooden box. For the first time she could see what was inside. A bed of hot coals filled the box, and on the bed slept a small red lizard, glowing even brighter than the smoldering coals.
“Who is that?” asked Pippa.
“What is that?” asked Grassina.
“It’s a red salamander,” said Haywood. “I was learning how to handle it when I started the fire in my father’s stable. Red salamanders know more about fire than any other creature, besides dragons, that is, but they are very hard to control.”
“You’ve had that with you all this time and never told me? Oh!” she gasped. “Is that what made those burn marks in the swamp? And I thought it was a dragon! But that salamander is so little. What can it do against a monster like the manticore?”
“You’ll see,” said Haywood. “I have a spell I can try. . . . I just hope it works.”
Little salamander friend,
Take your flames and with them wend
’Round the manticore so dire
To protect us with your fire.
Make a wall to force him back
And forestall his next attack.
When Haywood held up the box, the salamander took a burning coal in its mouth and scurried out the opening of the shelter. Once out of the box, the little creature shed crackling flames wherever it went. Smoke wafted back into the hole where Grassina and Haywood had taken refuge, making them cough and rub their eyes.
The manticore bellowed close enough to the hole that the rocks around them shook, and Grassina feared that they would be buried alive. Frightened, Pippa wrapped herself around her wrist so tightly that Grassina’s hand began to turn blue.
The commotion outside continued, then suddenly grew fainter, and the rocks around them stilled.
“Thank goodness!” said Grassina. “I’m glad you thought of that salamander spell. I didn’t know that small magic could make such a difference. I guess it depends on how you use it.”
“That’s true of any magic,” said Haywood. “Have you come up with your spell yet? The salamander won’t get rid of the manticore, just hold him off for a while.”
“I think I’m ready,” said Grassina. “But I want to see him when I say the spell to make sure it actually works.”
“I’ll go firsst.” Unwinding her body from Grassina’s wrist, Pippa slithered out the opening. “That manticore almosst got in. He moved a lot of rockss. You can come out now. He’ss too bussy to notice you.”
Getting out of the shelter was easier than getting in had been; the manticore had moved most of the smaller rocks out of the way. Grassina crawled out on her hands and knees, saying, “Haywood, I’m glad you had that box with you to . . . Oh, my!” She had spotted the manticore.
It had run about a hundred feet from the rock pile before the salamander had trapped it. A wall of flame rose up around the manticore; each time the beast tried to leap over the fire, the flames shot higher, singeing its fur and making it fall back, bellowing.
“This is close enough,” Haywood said as he got to his feet behind her.
Grassina nodded. “I think so, too.” Raising her arm, she pointed at the manticore and said,
Fierce and nasty you may be,
But you will not frighten me.
Though you’re big and though you’re strong,
You won’t stay that way for long.
Shrink in strength and shrink in size
Till you wear a kitten’s guise.
Let your scent be all that stays
To remind us of your ways.
The manticore was pacing within his fiery cage when he began to shrink. He was smaller than a newborn lamb when the salamander ran off into the night, letting the flames die away. Having extinguished his fire, the little creature was almost impossible to see in the dark.
“Where’s he going?” asked Pippa.
Haywood shrugged. “I don’t know. I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
“But I will,” said Pippa, raising her head to taste the air with her flicking tongue. With her head still raised, she slithered off after the salamander.
Grassina hadn’t taken her eyes from the manticore. It had stopped shrinking when it reached the size of a three-week-old kitten, but looked in every other way exactly as it had before. “Why doesn’t he look like a kitten?” she asked. “He was supposed to after that spell.”
“A manticore’s a magical beast,” said Haywood. “Our magic doesn’t work the same on them.”
The manticore tried to bellow, but instead of the blare of a trumpet, it sounded more like the tootle of a flute. Frustrated, the beast ran at Grassina as if to attack her again. When it reached her feet, she clucked her tongue and picked him up by the scruff of his neck. The manticore mewed pitifully when she held him at arm’s length. “That’s much better,” said Grassina.
“What have you done to me?” squealed the kitten-sized beast.
Grassina set the creature on the ground, hardly noticing when he swung his tail and tapped her on the wrist with the ball. “Nothing that you don’t deserve,” she said. “You were right when you said I didn’t want to kill you, but then, I didn’t want anyone else to be killed either. Good-bye, little one. You should be happy. You wanted to be free to do whatever you desired, and now you are.”
As the manticore darted off into the grass, Haywood once again took Grassina’s hand in his. “What’s this?” he said.
“Hmm?” said Grassina. Turning back from watching the manticore, she let her eyes follow Haywood’s. There was a ring on her finger now, a green ring made of a single stone carved to look like overlapping leaves. “Oh,” she breathed and glanced up at Haywood. “Do you know what this means? That’s the ring of the Green Witch!”
“Which means that you hold the title now,” said Haywood, his words clipped and dry. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” said Grassina. “I have to go tell my family. Greater Greensward has a Green Witch again!”
“It is wonderful,” said Haywood, “for the kingdom.”