Debra L. Rollins - Revenge For the Huntsman

“Great! Just Great! What are we suppose to do now?” Tony’s voice rose in sheer frustration. “They shut off the mirror. I told you this would happen. How am I going to get back to help them?”

Marjorie stood by, for once feeling at a loss for words. To see her granddaughter and the others disappear into another world was nothing short of surreal even though she was told what it was like before hand. Just before the mirror had been turned off, she had caught a glimpse of Virginia and Wolf behind the leather-clad woman, surrounded by wolves in a strange, luxurious room. Behind her, the two officers stared at the spot where the group had vanished, scratching their heads.

“Where in the hell did they go?” Jones asked.

Officer Shelly shook his head, not wanting to believe his eyes.

“Jules, they were just here! They couldn’t have escaped. Even the wolves are gone and I know I hit one of them. So where did they go?”

“Maybe the woman’s an illusionist,” Jules suggested to his partner.

“A what?”

“You know, made us think we were seeing things we weren’t. Like her changing into a werewolf. Maybe she made us think they disappeared and they’re really still around here. You know…like David Copperfield.”

“Julie, you’ve been watching way too much television.” Officer Jones turned his attention to the man and older woman beside them. His eyes narrowed, the man looked awfully familiar. “What do you two know about all this?”

He pulled out his flashlight and shone the light in Tony and Marjorie’s face. They winced as he blinded them momentarily. “Hey! Don’t I know you?”

Jules pulled his gun back out and aimed it now at Tony and Marjorie.

“It’s him, Jones…don’t you remember? It’s the guy that escaped a month ago. Put your hands were we can see them, buddy! You too, lady…I don’t like the looks of you either.”

“Young man…” she huffed, “I’ll have you know I’m a very important woman in this area. I know very important people and…”

“Yeah? Well…you can tell a very important judge all about it in court. Turn around slowly and put your hands behind your heads. That’s it…real slow like,” retorted Officer Jones, pulling out a pair of cuffs. He was just about ready to snap them on one of Tony’s wrists when the unexpected happened.

A sudden infusion of light appeared behind Marjorie, creating a shimmering impression a few inches off the ground. The two police officers froze as Tony seized the moment, pushing his mother-in-law through the portal and into the mirror room of Wendell’s castle. Who ever had reactivated the mirror could not have done so at a better time, thought Tony to himself. Quickly he twisted the lever, closing the doorway on the surprised officer’s faces.

“Did you see THAT?” Officer Shelly asked his partner, flabbergasted.

Jones stood there, opened-mouthed in shock. The guy had disappeared into thin air for the second time. Maybe this was all a bad dream. That’s it, he thought. He was having a nightmare. He pinched himself but he didn’t wake up. No one would ever believe them, even in a million years.

“See what, Jules?” he answered in a monotone voice, then turned and walked quickly away.

Officer Shelly stood there for a moment, shrugged his shoulders then followed his partner back to their recovered cruiser.

“Are we really here?” Marjorie asked, recovering from the strange journey through the mirror. First, there was nothingness, then…a whole new existence!

“Yes, we’re here…but how?” Tony scratched his head. “Who turned the mirror back on?”

A slight scratching from the corner of the room brought them both around. Tony grabbed a candelabrum from a nearby table and lit the candles.

“Who’s there?” He demanded.

“It’s us…” a small, squeaky voice spoke up. “The mice from the dungeon. The German speaking mice…remember?”

“MICE! How repulsive!” Marjorie cried out.

They looked toward her and sniffed loudly.

“Well! How about that?” one said to the other. “We work our little tails off and manage to turn the mirror back on to save these two and get called repulsive? See if we ever help you two again.”

“Wait!” Tony called out as they turned to scurry away. “She didn’t mean that. Why…you’re heroes and I’ll see that King Wendell is aware of your great deed. You know how women can be about mice. Please don’t take anything she says to heart. She’s just an old woman…a little senile.”

“Hey!” protested Marjorie, but refrained from saying more. The little beasts did, after all, help them to escape those police officers.

“Very well,” replied the larger of the two mice. “We accept your apology.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, then asked, “Did you happen to see where those two nut cases took my daughter and Wolf?”

“Don’t know for sure…they left in a big hurry. Didn’t even bother to clean up the mess they left behind either.”

Tony and Marjorie inspected the floor closely, then jumped back. They had been standing in a small pool of blood.

“Oh no!” Marjorie cried in horror. “Did they hurt my granddaughter…Wolf?”

“I don’t think so,” answered the smaller mouse. “Looks like either the wolf or the man holding the wolf was bleeding badly. Don’t despair…our friend the rat has followed them. If we can find him, he may be able to tell you where they have gone.”

Tony grabbed another candle and handed it to Marjorie.

“The castle is gloomy at night…you’ll need to use this to find your way. First we’ll see if Wendell is still here although I doubt it, otherwise they would never had made it beyond this room. Wendell was expecting us to come back soon which was why the mirror was on in the first place.”

King Wendell’s apartments were empty. A bleary-eyed servant informed them that he had left earlier that day for the Disenchanted Forest with great many guards. A plot had been uncovered that the great King Wendell was about to foil. Was that not exciting?

“Yeah…totally,” said Tony sarcastically. He ran his hand through his thinning hair and groaned. Now what? Hopefully the rat had better information.

The captives and captors arrived in the sleepy village where Dooren ran her shop just as day broke over the horizon. Quickly she ushered them in, opening her back storeroom where Wolf and Virginia were locked in an inner room used to house more expensive fabrics and ornaments. The little Dwarf was not happy to house them there for fear of her precious possessions walking off with them, but there was nowhere else to put them from prying eyes and safekeeping. On top of that, the transformed Troll prince was filthy again and now there were three wolves to contend with…one of which was terribly wounded.

Dooren tsk-tsked and tut-tuted over the wounded old one as Cierce looked on over the little Dwarf’s shoulder, wringing her hands, not quite sure what to do to help.

“Hand me my sewing needle and some strong thread. I’ll cleanse the wound and close it up but only time will tell if she is to survive.”

Cierce did as she was bid. The other two wolves lay in a far corner of the shop, watching the activity from afar as the miniature woman dressed the wolf’s wound, then gave the old one a broth mixed with herbs to soothe the pain. So far so good, thought Dooren, then steered her attention towards the blood soaked Troll.

“You have need of a bath again I see, Prince Burly.” She moved towards him with intent. Burly cringed at the thought of a bath once more, but accepted the inevitable. He nodded his head and the old Dwarf smiled, satisfied with him behaving so level-headedly for once, then left to draw his bath.

Half an hour later, he slid into the water’s warmth. Pink bubbles reminding him of the color of Trolldust tickled his skin…the heat relaxed his sore muscles. He was so tired, plus his shoulder still hurt, so he slid further under the water.

“OWWW!” He bellowed loudly, springing back up in pain.

Dooren and Cierce ran through the door, not taking the time to knock to see what was happening.

“Fairy bells!” Dooren exclaimed. “What’s all the commotion about?”

Burly stood there gasping knee deep in his bath, grabbing his shoulder in agony.

“The pain! My shoulder…!”

“Gracious! Cierce…grab the needle and thread again. The Prince has been wounded also! The bath is already pink with his blood. Bring the bottle of spirits on the shelf above the table also.” She made him sit down in the tub again, least he fall. Cierce returned quickly with what the woman needed and stared at the Troll in the tub, a strange expression lighting her face.

Burly felt faint as his skin turned clammy and sickly white as he began to sweat profusely.

“Is that for me to drink to numb the pain?”

“What?” The Dwarf looked up from the bullet hole. “Hardly…it’s for me. Between this disgusting wound and the wolf’s, my stomach has become queasy. I’m not a doctor you know. But if it makes you feel better…be my guest. A nip or two won’t hurt.”

Burly gave her a sour look, but accepted the bottle from Cierce anyway as she handed it to him. His hand shook as he rose it to his lips, so she grabbed hold to steady the bottle for him.

“I can do it myself! I’m no sissy Elf boy!” he growled at her.

“Pah!” she spat back, stung. “Look at you…as weak as a cub! You don’t want my help? Fine! You can lay there and bleed to death for all I care!”

With that, she spun around and huffed from the room, slamming the door with a tremendous force behind her. The noise cut through Burly’s head like a knife.

“OW! Suck an Elf!” he cursed, raising his good arm to his aching head. The spirits were not doing any good in the bottle, so he tried to drink again. After a few tries he made the bottle to his lips and gulped heartily. The fiery liquid coursed through him and within a matter of minutes, he felt his body ease up.

Dooren snipped the thread and announced herself finished, then ran him another bath with fresh water. He had lost quite a bit of blood, but whatever had wounded him was not embedded. It had entered his shoulder and left the other side. He was lucky…he would be fine and she told him so.

“I will feel lucky once I am home at the Troll Palace with the witch dead at my feet and myself on the throne, little Dwarf,” he spat, his words beginning to slur, “Also when I am rid of that she-wolf. The less I see of her, the better.”

Dooren’s eyes narrowed. She looked at Burly, then to the door where Cierce had left minutes before. Something was going on between the two. They were sniping and barking between each other as they did the first time they were at her shop, but this time there was a different tension present. Hmmm, she thought…the possibility was most tempting to think about. Female Dwarfs considered themselves to be quite the matchmakers, living to marry off their sons and daughters. She on the other hand, never had children, thus never had the pleasure. Perhaps…? She looked back at the Troll, relaxing in the hot bath, singing a strange tune about staying alive in a high pitch voice. Too many spirits, she thought shaking her head. She grabbed the bottle and left the room to check on the prisoners left in her care.

Wolf was finding it harder and harder to breathe through his mouth. He felt like a thousand cotton balls were lodged there and wished desperately for a glass of cool water…followed with a delicious slab of bacon, a rack of lamb and a few plump chickens. His stomach growled loudly, waking Virginia up from a restless slumber.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Virginia searched the surrounding room and groaned. So it hadn’t been a dream. They really were prisoners…again.

“It’s okay, Wolf. I wasn’t sleeping very well anyway.”

Virginia was thankful for the semi-darkness of the storeroom. If she looked anything like she felt...yuck! She tried to smooth down her hair and straighten her dress for some semblance of order. Impossible! She needed a bath and, she thought with growing concern, a restroom. Inside her womb, the baby moved slightly, making her wonder if that were normal to be able to feel such things after only a month. She had yet to get to a doctor due to her hectic schedule but knew it was important to do so. She promised herself the moment she returned to New York, she would seek one out, if they got out of this predicament alive.

Their attentions were diverted as the lock to the door slid open to reveal the Dwarf from the shop earlier that morning. Neither Wolf nor Virginia could tell what time it was but from the looks of the sun shining through the store windows behind her, they figured it was nearly noon.

“Here,” announced the Dwarf, shoving a large bowl of what looked to be beef stew toward them. It looked divine, thought Wolf as his mouth started to water with hunger. At least they were being fed better than the guards fed him at the Snow White Memorial Prison. Beanstalk soup was horrendous! Not to mention it had little nutritious value whatsoever that would be good for Virginia and their cub growing rapidly inside her. He reached for the bowl, straining against the tether that bound he and Virginia to the back wall. Triumphantly he grabbed it and the vat of water the Dwarf pushed towards them also.

The little woman looked first to Virginia, then Wolf and then back to Virginia once more. Her eyes widened in surprise momentarily. A second later she was gone. Soon she was back, this time with bread, fresh fruit and milk. These too, she shoved inside.

“For the little babe,” she whispered, then went to bolt the door shut a final time.

Virginia was astounded. “How did she know I was pregnant?”

“You have a beautiful light in your eyes and your scent has changed. Dwarves have a wonderful sense of smell as do we wolfies,” he answered gulping down a large morsel of meat. He pressed the larger share of the food on her and all the fruit and milk. Better for the cub that way.

“Really? I don’t feel any different.”

“You look radiantly beautiful, my love,” he murmured in her ear, “And will grow even more so.”

“Wolf…” She couldn’t help but smile at him in the gloom, knowing he could see her better than she saw him. “I do believe you’re biased.”

“Huff-puff…without a doubt.” He licked his fingers and pushed the now empty bowls towards the door, then pulled her down upon his chest. “Now rest. If we are to escape, we need our wits about us. Never know when the chance may come.”

She nodded her head in agreement, laid her head on his firm chest and fell asleep, exhausted.