Macster - The Last Dragon
Brushing her hair back from her face, Virginia could not help but cringe inwardly as she vividly recalled the horrible Gypsy curse that had made it infinitely longer. Ever since she had returned to New York with Wolf, she had become obsessive about keeping it trimmed, even when it didn't need it, so afraid had she been that the curse would return, magic axe notwithstanding. It had been a wise move to avoid the Gypsy camp this time around.Hoisting her waterskins up on her shoulder again, she glanced back along the path, still furtively looking for the Trolls. She and Wolf had traveled until noon and made camp, and Wolf had sent her ahead to the river to fetch water. They were far out of danger now, but Virginia could not shake that fiendish malice in Blabberwort's eyes as she subtly threatened the baby. The fear she had felt then was now transformed into rage and an overwhelming desire to protect her child with her life--almost like a mother wolf with her cubs.
Virginia smiled to herself. Which, in a way, she now was.
Ahead, the trees began to thin, and Virginia picked up her pace, the sound of flowing water reaching her ears. At last, she broke from cover to stand on the slope above the riverbank. Across the churning expanse of water, the land rose in rugged foothills that soon angled up into sharp mountain peaks. Their stark, cruel outlines seemed like brooding giants, cold and friendless despite the sunny day. That, she knew, marked the end of the Disenchanted Forest and, according to Wolf and her memories of the map, the beginning of the Second Kingdom.
Red Riding Hood's Kingdom.
Virginia frowned. Surely that particular queen and her subjects hated and feared wolves more than anyone else in the Kingdoms. Would it be safe to travel there? Was that what had Wolf so worried?
She sighed. There was nothing to be done about it, if so. They had no other choice. The Sixth Kingdom, she recalled, was on an isolated peninsula, and they could not fly, swim, or boat there.
Lowering her gaze back to the river, she marveled at how this was the same river that, farther south, she had sailed with Wolf, her father, and Wendell what seemed a lifetime ago. The river where, on the way from the prison to Rivertown, Wolf had discarded the magic shoes. Idly she wondered what had happened to them; the Trolls had wanted them so badly. But they could be anywhere by now. Wolf had once told her magic liked to move around, and you couldn't get more mobile than being carried on a river current!
The waterskins slipped again, reminding Virginia she was here for a purpose, not to think and wonder and divine the vagaries of magic. Sighing, she picked her way down the muddy slope to the riverbank, where a sheltered cove gave her plenty of still water to draw from.
She had filled both skins, brushed her hair back yet again, and turned to rise when she saw something odd. There along the bank, buried in the mud, were two strange lumps. Approaching them warily, she noted they were roughly oval in shape, exactly the same size, and had a hole in one end, almost like a crawdad nest. But when she nerved herself and reached inside, they were empty.
Growing more and more curious, Virginia began tugging on the objects, trying to work them free of the mud. They were just starting to come loose, and she had readjusted her grip, when she felt something cold and metallic under her palms. Frowning, she sat back and fingered the mud-coated lumps of metal at one end of the two mysterious "treasures"--and then her hands fell back.
They were tiny iron crowns.
Almost of their own accord, her hands started scraping and rubbing and smearing the mud away, knowing what they would find, yet denying it until she saw it with her own eyes. In short order she had cleaned enough of the mud away to expose what lay underneath.
Gold and jewels glittered back at her.
Virginia's hands jerked away as if burned. No, it couldn't be. But it was.
It was the Troll King's magic shoes.
