Macster - The Last Dragon

For the next several hours Virginia watched Wolf's back, her eyes on his swishing, twitching tail as if it would bite her. The night was now as black as the depths of an oubliette, the moon hidden behind roiling clouds that swept across the vaults of the sky. That, plus the sharpness to the air and the tangy, loamy scents suggested a storm was brewing. Yet Wolf still continued onward, and Virginia was afraid to approach him about stopping for the night. The Piper, wisely, had refrained from being his usual talkative self, instead playing his pipe without pause. In surprise she found that his company was currently more reassuring and comforting than Wolf's, and so was his tune, a gentle lullaby. She soon found herself humming along drowsily, her eyes half-closed as the need for sleep ached in her limbs. For a moment her mind sharpened, thinking perhaps the Piper was trying to lull her into a trance, but after a while she realized it was just the natural effect of all this strenuous traveling on her pregnant body: more simply put, she was tired.

On and on they trudged, Virginia practically walking in her sleep, only awakened now and then by moss-covered roots and uneven humps in the earth, tripping her up and causing her to stumble. Several times she cried out and almost fell, and each time it was the Piper who caught her and supported her. Wolf, several yards ahead and still alertly surveying the forest, did not even notice. This, compared to his normally attentive and solicitous nature, told her more than anything that something was dreadfully wrong. She peered around at the murky, mist-filled woods, shivering and trying to maintain her poise, but it was becoming harder and harder as she imagined what awful fate could await them all, out there in the night...

Finally something changed. Ahead, in the distance beyond Wolf, light appeared through the trees, the flickering light of torches. As they drew nearer, it became brighter and spread to encompass a broad swath of the forest, larger and larger. Clearly some sort of habitation lay ahead, probably a village. With a peremptory growl, Wolf called a halt and they gathered around him in the middle of the path.

"There is a town ahead, Crookedtown," he whispered roughly. "We should stay there for the night."

Virginia frowned, not liking the sound of that name. "Is that the town where--?"

"Yes, yes!" Wolf snapped. "That's where the Crooked Old Man lived. But everyone there is crooked, nothing special about that. Except they're very very nasty and foul-tempered."

She liked the sound of that even less. "Are you sure it's safe?" she ventured, daring to contradict him.

Wolf rolled his eyes, which flared a blazing gold in the shadows, like twin suns. "Of course it isn't safe! But huff-puff, it's better than staying out here in the forest where any cocky young buck trying to bag his first wolf could put an arrow through us! If we avoid the town and sleep here, it'll seem suspicious--only wolves are safe in Red Riding Hood Forest at night." He sounded half-sarcastic and half deadly serious. "At least if we stay there they'll assume we're all human. No wolf would dare enter a village, they think."

"I would say that is an excellent suggestion," Colin volunteered agreeably. "I for one would appreciate a hot bath and a filling supper."

Wolf turned on him, snarling. "Who cares what you think, Piper-boy?"

Virginia placed a cautionary hand on Wolf's shoulder, and managed not to flinch when he whirled back to glare at her. "Wolf...calm down. He was agreeing with you. We can't go on if you're going to be fighting us like this...certainly not into a hostile village. I know you're upset about what we've seen. I am too. But you have to settle down...please. For me." She turned on all the appeal she could in her bright blue eyes.

Slowly Wolf relented, sighing and hanging his head like a dog who'd been struck by a rolled-up newspaper. He made that soft, sad whine that always broke her heart, then ducked down and wrapped his arm around her, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder and neck, nuzzling tenderly. "I'm so sorry, Virginia...it's just so hard for me to control myself around all these wolf-haters. But I'll try to behave for you, my creamy darling. I'll be a good wolfie."

They took a few moments to try and make themselves presentable, brushing off the dirt from their clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles, even combing their hair with a comb Virginia produced. There was nothing they could do about the Piper's torn raiments, but hopefully no one would notice. Wolf spent the most time freshening up, even going so far as to dash off the path to a small stream to wash the blood from his wounded hands and slick back his hair. She watched this with a mixture of amusement and wonder; Wolf had always been neat and fussy (when not in his cycle) but now he was almost as fastidious as Wendell. He certainly could turn on a dime.

When they were as ready as they could ever be, Wolf led the way onward, walking quite calmly and normally now, his tail carefully tucked out of sight. In a few minutes the forest opened out into a vast expanse of grassy field and hills. The moon had come out from behind the clouds for a moment and shone its silvery rays down upon pastures marked off by fences that zigzagged strangely across the fields in the distance. Much nearer lay the village itself, and Virginia saw at once that it too was crooked--every building twisted and turned, angling back and forth, as if wrenched around by a passing tornado. Some were so off-kilter and precarious they looked ready to topple over, but amazingly none did. She didn't know if the people simply preferred crooked buildings because of their personalities, or if the architecture was a measure of practicality required to make crooked people's lives more comfortable.

Virginia could see the people now as they entered the village, only a few out and about in the streets of the hamlet at night, and those few scowled and glared about as they limped and shuffled toward their homes, though whether this was because they were searching for wolves or because of their pained backs was debatable. Not a few sharp looks were cast in their direction, and Virginia tried to return cheerful smiles to set the crooked people at their ease. She didn't think she was succeeding, if for no other reason than that smiles were foreign here.

Crookedtown was an otherwise normal village, its winding streets lit at each corner by gnarled wooden lampposts, surmounted by iron baskets of hessian soaked in oil. The flickering flames were somehow disconcerting, their shadows dancing on the faces of the houses as if hundreds of unseen imps cavorted in alleys and doorways. Virginia shrank back next to the Piper, feeling very uneasy. Luckily Wolf seemed to know where he was going, and after leading them down several streets he brought them to a large, brightly-lit, clapboard inn, called of all things the Corkscrew Inn. But the name was fitting, since the building spiralled and angled into so many convoluted turns her tired eyes could not follow them. Several wagons and their teams were hitched before a door flanked by torches.

Throughout the trip into town the moon had gradually vanished again as the thunderheads built and swelled, and now the rain broke overhead just as they reached the inn door. In minutes they were soaked by the sheets of water blown by the rising wind. Wolf protected Virginia with his coat until they made it in through the door, and then barely stopped himself in time from shaking his drenched form like a dog. Dripping and shivering, Virginia waited as Wolf and the Piper found the coinage between them to pay for a night's stay at the desk, then rushed after them to get where there was a warm fireplace.

Inside the smoke-filled common room, Wolf found them a table in the back, away from the rest of the rowdy patrons. The innkeeper, a bald, leather-skinned man so severely crooked he could not walk except in a rocking, gyrating motion, slammed down three mugs of ale before them and then stomped away. Virginia sniffed hers, grimaced, and pushed it away; even if she'd been inclined to drink when pregnant, which she was not, it smelled awful. Colin did not seem particularly appreciative either, although he did drink. Wolf, on the other hand, gulped it down as if it were water, which surprised her. She couldn't recall ever seeing him drink alcohol; she'd thought it was probably too pungent for his nose and too strong for his stomach.

Reaching out to squeeze his hand, she whispered, even though no one could hear her over the din even if she'd spoken normally. "Wolf...I thought you were going to behave." She looked around guardedly; countless eyes were upon them, watching in suspicion. She'd been afraid they would stand out like sore thumbs, since they weren't crooked like everyone else, but fortunately there were enough out-of-town visitors that they blended in somewhat. The Piper's garish outfit and her own Earth clothes did attract attention, however.

Wolf shrugged, taking another drink and then shakily setting down the mug. "I can't help it. I just can't get those wolves out of my mind. Any one of them could have been me, Virginia. If I hadn't met you..."

She sighed and fixed her eyes on the table, studying the cracks and stains in the wood without really seeing them. Outside, thunder rumbled. "Don't worry, Wolf...when this is all over, and we've found the dragon and stopped the Ice Queen and freed Wendell, I'm sure he'll do something to make sure no more wolves get killed."

Green eyes rested on hers with a level, steady stare. There were too many conditions in that statement, and in any case he knew as well as she did that Wendell had no power over the Second Kingdom. But all Wolf said was, "Sure."

About that time the innkeeper returned with three tattered menus, and the only talk revolved around what to order. After she and Colin asked for a hearty helping of mortress and Wolf ordered a rare steak with surprising restraint, they sat in an uncomfortable silence. The Piper nursed his ale and Wolf guzzled his, while Virginia stroked her belly absently. When their food arrived, she set to it with a will, absolutely starving. It was not the most delicious stew she'd ever had, but it was certainly filling. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Wolf force himself to eat slowly and carefully, using a knife and fork. Any other time she would have exploded with laughter at the sight, but now she was a nervous wreck. One wrong move, one growl, one bone stripped in seconds, and it would be over for them.

In, out, in, out. Mechanically she lifted her spoon and lowered it, not even tasting the stew anymore as she listened to the sound of the rain on the roof and waited for something to happen.

Suddenly it did--but it had nothing to do with them. On the far side of the common room, near the door, two burly men, muscled despite their crooked spines, half-rose from their seats, voices raised in intense argument. One clenched a huge fist in the other's face, and then he leaped toward his dinner companion. The innkeeper hurried forward as fast as his limp would allow, but as he yelled at the two men to take it outside, one threw a punch at him. The innkeeper flew back, tumbling across the floor as the man who sent him sailing pinned his real target to the table. Dishes fell and glasses shattered.

Virginia froze, eyes as wide as saucers as she took in the astonishing sight. She'd never been in a bar brawl, and this was too close for comfort. Turning to look at her companions, she saw the Piper had his hand in his satchel as if he intended to pull out his pipe and enchant the entire room. Wolf was already out of his seat, half-crouching, his eyes darting around in fear.

The door banged open, letting in the storm winds and making her whirl. The innkeeper had struggled to his feet and stood on the threshold, reaching out along the wall beside the jamb. His hand latched onto something and abruptly a bell began ringing.

Wolf whined. "Oh, cripes! He's summoning the garrison!"

All across the room, people began milling aimlessly, crushing and shoving toward the doors and the hallway back to the bedrooms, even climbing out the windows in their haste to escape. Wolf grabbed the Piper and Virginia and hauled them bodily away, just before a grossly fat man fell with a crash onto their table, breaking it in half. The shouting and insults were incredible, with even the innkeeper joining in. Someone threw a bottle that just missed Virginia's head, and she ducked, putting her hands over her ears. She wanted to scream at them all to shut up and act like civilized people, but instinctively she knew she would become the center of the fighting if she did.

They were moving toward the hallway when the sound of marching feet shook the steps outside. In moments two dozen soldiers burst into the inn, parting like waves on the sea to surround all the patrons. Gauntled fists banged on burnished wet breastplates, and the room fell into a shocked and terrified silence. Even the two fighting men froze in place, fists upraised.

At once Virginia saw the soldiers were not crooked; they must not be local folk. In fact, she realized with horror, they had to be soldiers for the House of Red, for all of their armor was a bloody scarlet. So were the sheer rectangular surcoats that draped their chests and backs, their chain-mail hoods, and their enlarged pauldrons. Their stern faces, set in almost the same expression, completed the fearsome ensemble...yet Virginia could not help thinking they resembled nothing less than armored versions of the Queen of Hearts's pack of cards in Alice in Wonderland. Only she wasn't laughing.

"Who started this altercation?" the helmeted leader of the garrison demanded.

The innkeeper pointed firmly at the two who were responsible, while several patrons added their own shaky accusations. At once four of the guards moved to the wreckage of the table and hauled the two men up without even a grunt of exertion. As they dragged the brawlers away, the garrison commander turned his haughty gaze around the common room. Noting the fallen fat man, and several other smaller fights that had begun in the frightened flight, he frowned. "I wish to know the names of all present here. Others are also responsible for the disturbance of the peace this night, and all of you may be called upon as witnesses."

As the spectators grumbled and moved forward reluctantly to give their names, Wolf snatched Virginia's wrist again and pulled her back slowly and carefully into the crowd. Trying to keep as many people as possible between them and the soldiers, he kept his face turned firmly away. The three of them had almost made it to the hallway when one of the soldiers noticed them. "You there! Where do you think you're going?"

Virginia closed her eyes.

But it did no good; the soldiers were already thrusting people aside to reach them. As she opened her eyes, she found herself staring up at a heavily muscled man with flame-red hair--the garrison commander. He glared belligerently from her to Colin, then to Wolf, who still had his face turned away and ducked low. "Why are you trying to hide..." The soldier grabbed Wolf's shoulder and wheeled him around, wrenching his chin up so he could see his face. His expression changed from suspicion to recognition, then smug satisfaction. "Well look who we have here, boys..."

Virginia tried to keep Wolf by her side, but only succeeded in having herself and the Piper pulled out into the middle of the room with him. Abruptly all eyes were on them, even more unfriendly and cruel than before. Yet the commander had her full attention, for he was lifting Wolf bodily off his feet, shaking him in the air. While Wolf growled and struggled, the soldier reached into a pouch he carried at his waist and removed a rolled piece of parchment. Unrolling it, he displayed a skillfully rendered drawing to the room. The likeness to Wolf's face was uncanny.

"We've been looking for you for a long time. We have an outstanding warrant for you...and the fact that you've been hiding in the Fourth Kingdom doesn't save you." The commander curled his lip in contempt, then waved at Virginia and the Piper. "Arrest them all."

Jaw hanging, Virginia wrenched her arms futilely against the suddenly iron-hard grips, and she saw Colin fighting similarly. Even as manacles were brought forward to be slapped around her wrists, she protested, "What are you talking about? What has he done? What have we done?"

A deep, amused chuckle was her answer. "I have no idea what you've done...but I'm certain it cannot be any good, since you were here in the company of this...wolf." The commander's last word was spoken with twisted lips and curled tongue, as if he were uttering the worst of epithets while sucking on something sour.

If Virginia had thought the silence of the inn was profound before, it was even more so now. She trembled uncontrollably, losing all her self-control, as she saw the murderous stares from every person in the inn.

"As to what he did...you will find out soon enough, assuming you don't already know." The commander drew himself up to his full height and smiled coldly. The ominous thunder rumbling outside and the lightning flashing at the windows seemed to punctuate his words. "Because you are all coming with us to the palace to meet Her Majesty, Queen Riding Hood III...where this wolf will answer to the charge of high treason to the crown."