Macster - The Last Dragon

Eventually they lost their interest in the travelers, and the housewives went back to work while the Mayor turned back for the town hall. Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. One more minute spent in that town and she would have screamed. The Mayor had been so insufferably condescending to her due to her gender--she knew the whole time they were speaking he had been itching to seal her in a pumpkin shell and keep her in her place as his ancestor Peter had done. Only Wolf and Colin had received his respect, and she remembered vividly a snatch of their arrogant conversation: "You let your woman speak up in public like that? I've got a rutabega rind you can muzzle her with!" On top of that, the overripe stench of the hollow houses had nearly knocked her down with its strength. She'd had to breathe shallowly through her mouth to avoid throwing up.

But luckily it was over now. Glancing at Wolf, she saw him roll his eyes in the direction of the village and laughed gratefully.

Shouldering her rucksack once more, she linked arms with him and led the way down the rutted roadway. As she rubbed her hand absently over the pack's leather strap, her thoughts ran back to how fortunate they had been to find it, lying in a heap in the empty field after the departure of the May Queen and her enchanted hedge maze. It had been the only supplies left from their spooked horses, but to her relief it had contained not only the Troll King's magic shoes, but enough bread and sausage to tide them over until they could reach the next village and purchase more provisions. The horses had been a lost cause, long gone from the vale and certainly well on their way back to their warm stalls at the palace stable in Incarnadine. So they had elected to camp last night in a small grove of spruce sheltered at the base of the next hill, as Wolf had informed them that it would not be a long journey now to the Sixth Kingdom.

Memories of her and Wolf snuggling and cuddling for warmth inside his greatcoat as they lay curled at the pungent, piney base of a tree, between its humped roots, returned to Virginia, and she smiled. It had felt so good, so right, to be back in his arms with her cheek against his chest. A giggle escaped her as she recalled the less than romantic embrace Carmine and the Piper had shared out of necessity.

It surprised her at first that she could find anything amusing about a woman she still harbored great distrust and anger toward, and that Red Riding Hood in turn would put up with such an indignity and violation of her royal person. But she found that her own attitude had changed a great deal after her experience in the maze, and she suspected the same was true of Wolf and Red as well. Even now she observed that the queen of the Second Kingdom was strangely subdued. She was not complaining about anything, even the lack of horses, which was extremely odd. (Wolf had advised against purchasing horses in Pumpkin Village after they arrived there in the morning, as they were so close to the border it would be silly to ride there only to have to set their mounts free, since they could not be taken through the dangerous brambles. Also, between the provisions and the horses they would have been out of Wendells.) Somehow the fact that Carmine was not whining about sore feet or the demeaning of her station by walking on the ground amongst them gave Virginia hope. If her vanity could take such a beating, perhaps her closed-mindedness had as well. Perhaps there was still a chance to get through to the queen about wolves--which she must do, for Wolf's sake, for the Kingdoms, and for Red herself.

What gave Virginia even more hope was the change in Wolf. The wall between them, the painful and yearning distance between them that had existed since the escape from the palace, since he had been overwhelmed by his hatred and desire for revenge--it was gone, all gone. Wolf was back to his old self, smiling, bounding with energy, attending to her with smothering devotion, drinking in her every feature as if she were the most magical thing in the world, as if he had discovered her anew. In fact he was the one who was concerned about the road instead of Red, constantly asking her if her feet were tired or if she wanted him to carry her. He was like an eager puppy dog ready to please his master. He made her feel special and loved again.

There was one slight problem though, one thing that had to be dealt with before she would feel their relationship was healed again. She still had to tell him about that kiss she almost gave Colin. It wasn't that she was hiding it from him, she argued defensively. She had just been very tired the previous night, they had all been through a trying ordeal and had a lot to think about, and she felt they needed privacy when she admitted the truth. Plus, she had a sense that Wolf too was still concealing something, something that embarrassed and ashamed him.

But despite this she knew that all would be well. As Virginia walked silently and contentedly along the narrow road between increasingly barren fields bordered by stone walls and broken only occasionally by a stand of oak trees or brush, she found the scenery did not bore or depress her. Nothing could. She believed in herself now, in Wolf, in their quest. And it was all thanks to her mother and the May Queen. Apologetically she thanked the nature spirit, running her hand over her belly thoughtfully. She didn't know when she and Wolf would get the chance to talk, or what awaited them in the Sixth Kingdom, or how the quest would be completed, but she had every confidence it would all happen as destiny decreed. As long as they didn't run into any more obstacles in this madhouse that would delay them.

So let's go now. Now, this minute, before we're turned into giant pigs, or trampled by goblins, or whatever's next in this madhouse. Virginia smiled fondly. Those were Tony's words, spoken in the barn in Little Lamb Village just after Wolf had been arrested. She was sure he would have something similar to say were he here now.

An ache developed in her heart, and she had to bite back tears. Dad. How much she missed him. She hadn't realized how much she needed him until he was no longer around, and talking to Christine had only made the separation more acutely upsetting. It had been buried in the back of her mind by the demands of the quest and all the harrowing adventures they had faced, but now it filled her thoughts with unrelenting force. She had seen him in the Spying mirror, frozen in Wendell's throne room, and had longed to stalk down there, face the Ice Queen right then and there, and free him. But that had been impossible then. She knew the only way to save Tony, to be able to hug him again, to see that rumpled, earnest face, to be able to give him her mother's message, was to find the dragon.

Virginia's jaw clenched, and she gripped her rucksack straps tighter. She swore anew, with every fiber of her body, that she would do that, and bring him back, and put an end to the Ice Queen's reign.

For the next several hours the company continued uneventfully along the road, following its curves and bends as they picked their way northwestward. Early on they encountered a few lonely travelers--farmers' wagons going to market, young men heading to Incarnadine to seek their fortunes, old women gathering twigs for fires. Never did anyone come from behind them to follow the same path as they, and those they passed gave them looks ranging from incredulous to hostile to imploringly entreating. It did not take Virginia long to guess that no one ever went toward the Sixth Kingdom willingly, and that the travelers were not so subtly warning them of the danger ahead. None ever spoke, either warded away by the expressions of determination and purpose the company wore or not altruistic enough to go out of their way to help what seemed blatant fools to them, and so they passed in silence.

Eventually there were no more travelers, and they had the road entirely to themselves. Around noon they passed through the last village, only a small cluster of mud-and-wattle shacks populated by incredibly poor peasants with scrawny, malnourished children and mangy dogs scrounging in the dirt. Virginia offered what food they could spare, receiving only distrustful glares in return, then joined the others in guiltily eating their midday meal. Afterward, the land became even more dusty, lifeless, and ruined, scattered with stones and the stubble of long-dead fields. She wondered why this area was so destitute, if it were only the vicinity of the Sixth Kingdom's magic or if perhaps the depradations of the dragon were responsible. Not a pleasant thought.

Suddenly, as she gazed ahead, she saw something that made her groan. An ominous front of black clouds hovered at the edge of the horizon, rearing high into the sky and showing no signs of dissipating or turning aside. And here she had thought the rain was finally over, and the warm, relaxing sunshine had been here to stay. She frowned, however, as she realized the clouds were not moving, neither roiling and building as anvil-shaped thunderheads were wont to do, nor carried toward them on the wind. And they hovered far too close to the ground to be normal clouds.

As they drew closer, Virginia became more and more uncomfortable and disconcerted. The "clouds" now seemed to be rising directly from the earth, as if smoke billowing up from a fiery furnace. But there were no flames, and still no movement, and now she could see arching vegetation, like intertwined branches forming an impenetrable wall. Stunned, she turned to Wolf for confirmation.

"Yes, Virginia," he said without her having to ask. His voice was quiet and dull, lacking in the exuberance and emotion he had so recently recovered. "That is the border of the Sixth Kingdom."

Swallowing, she looked ahead, fixing her eyes on the barrier. The closer they drew, the larger and more daunting it became, and the details that appeared consistently filled her with dread. The vegetation was not only branches, but brambles, thorns, a colossal thicket of spikes and woody vines completely blocking their path. Higher and higher it soared, twenty, thirty, fifty feet, towering above the landscape with all the permanence, inevitability, and arrogance of a granite cliff, its thorns coated and dripping with a steaming, foul liquid she knew had to be poison. The branches wound and twisted so thickly she could not easily discern where one ended and the next began, their thorns extending both sideways and downwards to spear the earth and block all forward progress, leaving only darkness beyond and below. And they extended as far as she could see along the border, as well as in a vast blanket across the land.

Finally, after slowly approaching the monstrous brambles with fear and awe, increasingly dwarfed and overshadowed, the four of them came to a stop before the edge of the barrier. Virginia tried to peer into the gloom but could see very little--thorns as massive as tree trunks, bare earth, the vague remains of an ancient roadway, slanted stones and broken walls that could have been the ruins of long-forgotten structures--a borderwatch gatehouse for customs officials and travelers, perhaps? Nothing seemed to grow there, not even lichen, except for the brambles of course.

"Well." She paused awkwardly and looked at the others. "Looks like we made it. Now how do we get in?"

Red Riding Hood made a noise, somewhere between a snort and a laugh.

Wolf was studying the unyielding facade of the thorns, his expression one of a person seeing for the first time something they had heard of only in stories and legends, and who now saw it far surpassed the tales. There was also a healthy amount of resignation and despair. "I...I don't know, my little dumpling. I hadn't thought this far ahead...I didn't even think we would make it this far."

Virginia elbowed him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence!" Shaking her head, she too examined the brambles, but she could not help agreeing silently with his assessment. Nowhere could she see even the tiniest aperture; the brambles and vines were interwoven so impenetrably that not even a mouse could find its way in. The vegetation almost seemed to be strangling its own life away, although it was hard to tell if it was even alive, the woody branches being completely leafless, dry, rough-barked, and the ground from which they sprang was as cracked and infertile as the hardpans of Africa. Yet somehow she knew they did live...she could hear a faint hissing emanating from within the forest, as if it breathed and panted with terrifying malignancy, as if vibrant sentience flooded every plant fiber and magic sustained the tremendous root systems--dangerous magic and vindictive life that longed to kill and destroy. And there was no opening anywhere, not one. It was possible of course that one might exist somewhere along the miles and miles of thorns, but she did not believe it, and even if it did, there was no telling how long it would take them to traverse the border and find it. And they didn't have the time for that.

She was about to step forward and start testing the pliability and cooperation of the brambles, however risky that might be, when a hand reached out and caught her arm. Turning, she was surprised to see it was the Piper. "No, milady. Let me. I...I have been pondering and reflecting on the very enigma before us ever since last night, and I have concluded that I should be the one to make the attempt. The magic within my pipe is extremely powerful and versatile, and it dates from the Golden Age. If any enchantment can separate this entanglement, it is this pipe, and no other spell is available to us. Before any of us dares to use brute force to enter and chance the danger of touching such venomous growth, I will draw upon my repertoire of tunes and hope it contains one that shall aid us."

Caught off guard, Virginia could only nod in acquiescence. Wolf shook his head in disbelief at Colin's impertinence, then shrugged. "Be our guest, Princey."

Heaving a great sigh, the Piper flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders in preparation for what he most likely felt would be the greatest performance of his life. Virginia could not help rolling her eyes, yet at the same time she waited with bated breath, hoping fervently that the answer lay in music to soothe the savagery of this untamed forest of brambles. The Piper, finally relaxed to his satisfaction, plucked his pipe from the satchel he never let out of his sight and lifted the instrument to his lips. There was a pause, as he selected a song and gathered his breath. Then he began to play.

It started as a single sustained note, soft at first but gradually increasing in loudness. Soon the sound made the ground tremble and the thorns quiver. It made Virginia want to cover her ears and block out the noise. But before she could do so, the note cut off abruptly, leaving only stillness--and the now uneven, shaky breathing of the forest. She looked at Colin, saw a gleam of guile and craftiness slip into his azure eyes, and then he played again.

The music rose and fell in cadent time, picking up speed as it raced up and down the scale. Faster it went, until she could barely keep track of the prince's fingers as they flickered over the pipe's holes. It shifted from one mood to another, lilting and cajoling one moment, like a child coaxing a kitten, then fierce and commanding the next, like a a wrathful deity chastising his worshippers. Despite the fact that the notes remained as high and liquid as ever, there was a subtle shift in their tone and quality, a dark and sinister coercion that would not be denied.

Breaking free of her stunned paralysis, Virginia turned toward the thorns as she heard a sudden cracking--and her jaw dropped. The brambles were trembling, shaking visibly, trying to resist the call, and the breathing of their unnatural life had become stentorian, groaning, undeniably pained. Yet just as when she herself had been summoned by the pipe, the music was unrelenting, refusing to be ignored...and slowly, before her astonished eyes, the thorns were parting!

Emboldened by this success, the Piper threw every ounce of will into his song. Virginia found herself glancing back and forth between his perspiring brow, the ever-brightening argent glow of the pipe, and the stretching, snapping, bending branches of the thorns as they drew farther apart, quivering with every foot of movement but wrenching apart despite their obvious desire to remain closed. On and on the arpeggios climbed, the notes whirling in furious rhythm, punctuated every now and then by a shrill blast that made Wolf whimper and cover his ears, whining. Each such note made the vegetation keen and draw back anew.

Finally, after ten minutes of unceasing music, the Piper stopped, ending on a low, unwavering note that held a resolute and implacable strength. Slowly, very slowly, Colin lowered the pipe, letting the note play on, as the instrument shone with a silvery incandescence so brilliant it hid the pipe completely and could not be looked at safely for more than a few seconds. "There...I think...that should do it..." he whispered, both in weariness and in awe.

That was an understatement. Where the impenetrable wall of thorns had been, the vegetation now lay shoved up and to the side as by a giant's fist, curved and shaped into a great arch, more than large enough for all of them to pass through--large enough, in fact, for an entire entourage of coaches, horses, footmen, and honor guard. The breathing had shifted to a heavy, ferocious growl, as of a predatory cat ready to pounce, yet clearly unable to do so. Darkness cloaked the faint roadway, which ran as far as she could see into the undergrowth.

Heart pounding, Virginia swiveled slowly to look at Wolf. All traces of skepticism and contempt were gone, replaced by shock and excitement. Their eyes met, and at once the same thought raced between them. Back in the Disenchanted Forest, over a week ago, he had told her that the prince who could restore the Sixth Kingdom had to possess a unique talent, a gift that no other had which could win the way through to the castle. No one could deny that the Piper had a unique skill...and it had just conquered the spell of the thorns, opening the way into the slumbering kingdom and making a path that could lead to Sleeping Beauty's palace. Could he be the prince meant to free her?

"Well?" Colin's somewhat anguished and annoyed voice interrupted their reverie. "Are we going in or aren't we? I'm not certain how much longer I can hold this..."

Red Riding Hood, who stood immobile on his other side with a mixture of fear and intense admiration on her face, swallowed and then peered uncertainly into the shadows within and beyond the arch. "You...you mean you truly still intend to enter this perilous kingdom?"

Virginia sighed and nodded. "I'm afraid we have to, Your Majesty. It's the only place we can find a dragon to stop the Ice Queen."

Carmine eyed her dubiously, but the resolve in Virginia's eyes must have convinced her, for she lowered her gaze and bit her lip.

Despite the fact that she shared Red Riding Hood's fears, Virginia took Wolf's hand, gave him another glance, and stepped forward across the threshold. The Piper followed, gently guiding the queen in front of him. Once they were deep within the thorny growth and had reached the first bend in the roadway, Colin turned back and sounded another long, low note, slightly higher than the first. With a moaning cry and the cracking of ancient wood, the brambles that formed the arch collapsed, springing back into place and rapidly intertwining once more. The broken branches did not return neatly to their previous position, some hanging by strips of wood, others stabbing into the deep furrows that had humped upwards in the soil. But soon a close approximation of the barrier had reasserted itself, and the forest heaved and sighed like a marathon runner in his final lap.

They were now sealed in the Sixth Kingdom.

All the rest of that day they traveled, and for Virginia it was a very strange experience. She was used to there always being some form of wildlife, some form of vegetation, but aside from the massive thorns and the occasional underbrush, nothing lived in the barren wastes of the Sixth Kingdom, and the only animals she saw were rooks, perched on distant arching brambles, cawing their annoying, raucous cries and wheeling against the ashen sky like vultures waiting to devour the dead. They made her shiver.

The thorns continued to intertwine and clog the land all around them, but there was just enough room for the road to pass, offering a fairly unobstructed course onward. It was impossible to tell what the land had been used for prior to the casting of the spell, whether it had been farmland, forest, or moor. The only clues were the ruins that continued to loom and jut out of the choking brambles--lone houses, clusters of buildings that might once have been a village, broken towers that might have been outposts or the castles of minor lords. All was quiet, abandoned, dead, filled only by the whispers of the wind and the groaning of creaking timbers, the settling of stone. It made Virginia feel as if she had entered a graveyard, a kingdom that had become a gigantic catacomb for the forgotten generations. In a way her thought was right, for this was a literal cemetery, a "sleeping place".

As the day passed slowly, Wolf led them along the roadway, picking their route with a confidence that belied the fact that he had never been in this region before. The few times he spoke to them, in a hushed whisper that seemed appropriate for their surroundings, he noted that it was best to follow the road for several reasons. Not only would it be foolish to leave what might be the only safe part of the Kingdom and search for a path through the thorns--thereby exhausting the Piper and his pipe--but this road most likely led, as all others did, to the center of the land, where Queen Rapunzel's castle stood. It was only there, Wolf insisted, that they would possibly be able to find anyone who had not yet been put to sleep and who might know where the dragon's den might be. And if everyone slept, the castle was still the best place to steer toward, for rising as it did from the highest point around, it would offer a view of the coast, the most likely place for a dragon's den to be. Finally, even if they could neither see nor learn anything there, all roads led to and away from the castle, so it was best to travel where they could find another road which could conceivably carry them to their destination.

His arguments were sound, logical, and valid, and convinced everyone--not that much convincing was needed, since none of them dared to venture off the path--but Virginia was certain there was something else motivating his choice. She knew him, better than she had ever known anyone else, and she could tell by the way he flicked his eyes as he spoke that he was concealing something. And she even had a good notion what it was, for it matched her own thinking. The best reason to go to Sleeping Beauty's castle was because, after seeing the Piper open the way through the thorns with his enchanted music, Wolf most certainly believed he was the one to wake the slumbering maiden and end the curse. And if that happened, Colin would find true love...and would leave their company.

Virginia smirked. Wolf was so transparent. She knew he was grateful--if grudgingly so--to the Piper for using his pipe in the rescue at Incarnadine and now to create the entrance into the Sixth Kingdom, but she also knew that he still could not stand the man and would be extremely relieved when they could find a legitimate reason to leave him behind. The possibility that he might find the love he sought made Wolf determined to bring the Piper to the castle, but only out of a selfish need rather than an altruistic one.

So for the entire day they traveled, proceeding along a rutted road that at one time looked to have been very broad and well-kept, and had likely been covered with moss judging by its humped, sunken shape. Now and then the thorns blocked the way forward, but the Piper always managed to grind them apart with his irresistible music, and so they continued on with only slight delays until sunset. At this point Wolf called a halt. "It is far too dangerous to travel here at night...that is when the beasts come out to prey," he informed them. "In any case, it should only take another day to reach the castle, it isn't far."

Red Riding Hood was only too grateful to accept the reprieve, groaning softly as she settled on the ground in as dignified a manner as she could muster, curling her legs beneath her and to the side so she could rest her aching feet. The Piper joined her, wearied as well by his constant use of the magic, cradling the queen protectively against his chest as they leaned back against the crumbling remnants of an ancient garden wall. Virginia went to gather wood (without much hope of success) and was surprised to discover a great deal of dry kindling and bark that had broken or peeled off of the thorns over the decades, all of it quite flammable. By the time she returned and placed the firewood in a convenient sunken pool that had gone dry long ago, the sun had vanished beyond the brambles at the western horizon, plunging them into obscuring night, and Wolf had opened their provisions for the meal.

The fire Wolf started with his flint was cheery and quite welcome, for even under the thorns the heat of the day soon dissipated, leaving the air chilly and making the companions draw together for warmth. Shadows lengthened and grew around them, disturbing and malignant, seeming as alive as the rest of the bramble forest, and the ever-present breathing always hovered in the background, reminding them all that a hostile and distrustful force permeated this land. The four thus drew together for protection as well as warmth.

Virginia nibbled absently on a chunk of peasant bread and a slice of cheese as she kept her arm around Wolf and watched the others. Red Riding Hood no longer seemed so disapproving and haughty about the fare she was required to eat, although she did make a slight face when the Piper handed her a water flask from which they had all taken draughts. Colin looked after her needs with all the care and gentleness of a manservant, and made no complaints despite the fact that he had previously shown little inclination to step below his station in life. They were all changing, she realized. Hopefully for the better. So much had passed between them that this change was inevitable.

Which reminded her--now was the perfect opportunity to find privacy with Wolf and explain to him the source of the change in herself, and determine what had changed in him. However uncomfortable it made her, she had to tell him what had happened in her cell back at the palace. She turned to Wolf, stroked his cheek. "Wolf..."

Just as she was on the verge of telling all, another voice interrupted her. "Lady Virginia."

Virginia closed her eyes, cursing under her breath, and turned. It was, of course, Red Riding Hood.

The queen no longer lay against Colin's chest, but instead leaned back against the weathered stone that still bore the twisted dead grapevines of the ruined garden. The expression on her face was a surprising one--embarrassment, regret, and shame. Her eyes flicked to the slice of cured meat she held gingerly in her fingers, then to the ground. "I...first of all, I wished to apologize, to all of you, for the things that I said in my throne room." Her words came slowly, haltingly. "I was...out of line. You were correct, Lady Virginia, I was speaking out of fear and denial, I did not wish to believe that the Ice Queen could be seeking at last to conquer the Kingdoms. But now...seeing you here, braving the unknown threats of the Sixth Kingdom when you have no logical reason to do so, I can see that you must be telling the truth concerning your quest. Therefore, I apologize for delaying you, and if there is anything I can do to assist you in finding this...dragon, then tell me and I shall do it."

Virginia blinked. She had never expected such contrition from Carmine, let alone such a complete reversal in her mindset. At once she began revising her opinion of the queen. Prejudiced and recalcitrant she might be, but she was not immune to change, and she was still an intelligent, observant woman. It relieved her to finally be making some headway, and by her actions rather than her words. Still, she had to question her timing, seeing as she had interfered in a very important discussion.

"That is...very kind of you, Your Majesty," Virginia said, choosing her words carefully. She could tell how hard it had been for the proud ruler to admit her mistake, and she did not want to jeopardize this newfound detente by smugly declaring her own vindication; saying "I told you so" would do no one any good. Clearly the hedge maze had had a profound effect on Carmine as well. "I can't really think of anything you can do right now, unless there's any way you might guess where the dragon could be. But if we think of anything, we'll let you know."

Red Riding Hood nodded, then raised her eyes to meet Virginia and Wolf's. She let her shoulders slump, and the Piper brushed her hair back with a comforting hand. "Fair enough. There is...something else as well."

"And what's that, Your Majesty?" Wolf asked in a neutral tone of voice. Ever since the maze Virginia noticed he had been far less angry and spiteful toward her, but old habits died hard and he was not willing yet to grant her respect and trust, and with good reason.

The queen gathered herself and then raised her chin imperiously. "Thanks to the May Queen, I was...rather forcibly shown the error of my ways, at least in one respect. As a result, I have...decided to at least consider your request for a pardon." She held up a hand to forestall any exclamations, although all of them did gasp in shock. "I can promise nothing, only that I will listen to your words. I have realized that if I expect to be a queen who is accorded deference and loyalty, I must be fair, even to those I might otherwise reject out of hand. So...what I wish for you to do is...prove to me that wolves are capable of love. That Duncan did love my sister, and that you, Wolf, love Virginia. Do that, and the pardon is yours."

Beside her Virginia heard Wolf let out a strangled "Cripes!" and swallow hard, but she ignored him. This was a crucial moment after all; her talk with Wolf would have to wait a little longer, for the future of the Kingdoms now lay at stake. Biting her lip, she met the queen's gaze. While the auburn-haired woman's frame trembled, and the set of her jaw matched the emotions in her eyes, she could tell Carmine truly meant what she said. If they could convince her, she would be true to her word. She began to tremble herself. Now, if only she could find the right words to say. But what had not already been said?

Pondering, she cudgeled her brain until finally she concluded there was only one option left. If Red could not be swayed by simple rhetoric, then events and actions and examples would have to do. Slowly, carefully, she began to speak, relating the most pertinent parts of the original quest in the Fourth Kingdom, focusing on those instances that may have been glossed over in most tale-tellings, those that reflected best on Wolf. She described how he had tossed away the Troll King's shoes, saving her from the addiction. How he had placed his neck on the block--literally--to procure from the Woodsman the magic axe that could end the Gypsy curse. How he had rescued her time and again, particularly from the Deadly Swamp. How he had resisted the Evil Queen's will, when so many others had not, all for the sake of keeping her from harm. How he had been the instrument of the Huntsman's death. And finally how, by the use of deceit and guile, he had fooled the Queen, switched Troll dust for poison to spare the coronation guests, and enabled her to defeat the Queen.

"I know that last choice sounds dishonorable and cruel," Virginia finished. "But that is only on the surface. In truth, Wolf is the most honorable and loving man I have ever met." She flicked her eyes aside to watch him fidget and squirm in embarrassment. "What he did in Wendell's palace...it was a selfless and courageous act. He did it out of love for me, true, but also out of love for his Kingdom. He could have simply come and freed me while the Queen was busy at the ball and then led me out of the castle. He could have disregarded all the danger to the lands, fled with me to some distant place, and made a life with me. But he didn't. He stayed to fight. And when he did fight, he proved he was willing to risk his life for me. The Queen had offered to make him chief of her Secret Police. But he turned that down for me too. He lied to me to fool her, knowing full well what I would think of him, that he might lose my trust and love. But he took that risk too, because he knew that if he preserved our love by running away from the confrontation, I would never respect him and he would never respect himself. And then what would our love have been worth?" She paused significantly, her words measured and confident. "He risked everything that was dear to him, all for people who had hated and despised his kind, and all for me when I might very well have rejected him before I learned the truth, as I had in Kissing Town. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

When she was finished, Virginia reached out and took Wolf's hand, feeling a deep, abiding warmth throb and pulse in her heart, growing stronger as she met his emerald gaze. After a long, searching moment of communion, she glanced down at their linked hands and giggled in spite of herself as she saw the singing ring's magical pearl twirling and pirouetting atop its band, shining brighter than she had ever seen it as its delicate face beamed up at them in adoration. At last she looked back to Red Riding Hood and was amazed by the flow of emotions on the queen's face--astonishment, doubt, distrust, disbelief, worry, guilt, and finally a slow, reluctant understanding as her azure eyes filled with awe and sentimental yearning for something she could never have.

"Once I could not have believed your words, Virginia," she said quietly. "Once I would have been so blind I could not have seen the truth...that if Wolf were as selfish, wicked, and savage as I thought, he would never have risked his own life for you, or turned down a chance to gain power and glory, or cared what happened to the monarchs of the Kingdoms...including myself." Carmine paused, her eyelashes lowered as she kept her gaze focused on the campfire's crackling flames. "But that was before the May Queen interceded on your behalf...and brought to me a visitation that completely undermined everything I had clung to."

Even as Virginia wondered with a burning curiosity who could have managed to open Carmine's eyes, the queen continued, lifting her line of sight to meet theirs. "Still...I am not convinced Wolf is lacking in vices. And he is only half-wolf, after all. If he were a full wolf...like his father..."

Somewhere in the darkness an owl hooted, the only animal sound they had heard since entering the brambles, and they all started. Gazing up through the branches, Virginia could see the moon, still on its way to crescent, sailing across the sky, with tattered clouds racing across it now and then to cast ambiguous shadows on the world below. After a moment, she returned her stare to Red Riding Hood, frowning darkly. So the change was not complete, as she had known it could not be. No one could forego their prejudices and hatreds so easily. Carmine was willing to suspend a little disbelief in Wolf's case, but only a little, and none for wolves in general. But even this was more than she had ever hoped for.

Before she could even hazard a reply, Wolf growled softly. Turning, she saw he had moved back slightly, crouching on the balls of his feet as he fixed his implacable eyes on her from beneath his thick eyebrows. In the light of the moon she could see signs of Wolf's torture at the hands of the palace guards--bruises on his face, the still-healing split in his lip where the garrison commander had punched him, the welts and scrapes on his wrists from the manacles that had suspended him in his cell. She knew Wolf had not forgotten these injuries any more than Red had forgotten her previous mindset. She tensed.

Yet when he replied, it was not as vindictive and threatening as she had feared. "So...you think real wolves can't love? Well, let me tell you a little story from when I was a cub. You be the judge." He leaned forward and clenched his teeth. "I was alone at home with Cerise. My aunt, uncle, and cousins had all gone to market, and my father was out working in the fields. A man knocked at our door, an itinerant huckster peddling his wares--pots and pans, baskets and tools, that sort of thing. My mother felt we had all we needed and turned him away. But he was drunk and would not take no for an answer. He grew angry and abusive, calling her all sorts of names. He forced his way inside, and when she struck him with a fireplace poker, he attacked her. He threw her down, held her shoulders to the floor, and then yelled that she would pay for what she had done. Then he started undoing his breeches."

"No!" Carmine gasped in horror.

"Oh yes! I didn't know what he planned to do at the time, of course, but I knew he was trying to hurt my mother. So I leaped on his back and started biting his neck. But he knocked me into the kitchen table, stunning me. He had her dress torn open and was working on her slip when a frightening, feral snarl came from the doorway. It was my father." Wolf's eyes flashed as he grinned smugly.

Virginia had been listening, entranced by the shocking tale, feeling as helpless and furious as if she had actually been there in the farmhouse, witnessing it. Now she grinned in spite of herself, clenching her fists in anticipation of the well-deserved punishment Duncan would mete out. Red Riding Hood, too, hung on Wolf's every word, her expression torn between triumph and dismay, vengeance and regret.

"You can imagine what happened next. Duncan beat that peddler within an inch of his life. By the time he was through with him, that peddler wouldn't dare unbuckle his belt. And he was never seen in our village again." Wolf smirked, chuckling, but then he grew serious. "But, if you will notice, Auntie, my father didn't kill him. A wolf, a savage wolf, actually refrained from murdering a human, and one who had assaulted his mate, no less." He curled his lip sarcastically.

Red Riding Hood had the grace to look ashamed. For a long time she only sat perfectly still, her throat tensing and trembling. Virginia was certain that the queen must be thinking of how close her sister had come to being raped--and the fact that only a wolf had prevented it was what likely brought the pain and anguish to Carmine's azure eyes. But when she found her voice and replied in a hoarse tone, the words still made Virginia bristle. "That is indeed...most unexpected. But do not ask me to believe that Duncan never killed anyone at all in his life. I would not believe such a lie."

Virginia was on the verge of springing to her feet and leaping on Carmine, her oath to Snow White and her mother notwithstanding, but the Piper intervened, giving her a warning glare, and then before she could retort an answer, Wolf rose to the challenge. "No," he snapped, rising and circling the campfire, his silhouette blocking out the moonlight so that the angles and planes of his face lay in shadow. "No, I would never ask you to believe something so impossible. And you're right, my father did kill someone. Only once, as far as I know, but he did. Would you like to know who it was?" His eyes flared golden as he scratched vehemently at his temple.

The queen sniffed disdainfully. "Some poor innocent milkmaid, no doubt--or a not-so-innocent serving wench." She seemed to have recovered from the revelation of Cerise's long-ago trauma, and now sat with all the dignity of a judge on his bench.

Wolf snarled and shook his head. "Not by the hairs on the Three Little Pigs' chins! It was my grandfather Darren, the son of Old Grey himself."

Carmine looked as if she'd been stabbed in the stomach. "What?!? No!"

"Yes! It happened not long after Duncan rescued Cerise from the palace where you imprisoned her, when Darren found out just who his son's mate was, who it was he'd been protecting." Wolf proceeded then to lay out the story, the same tragic series of events that he had explained on the road to Incarnadine. Having heard it before, Virginia tuned out his words, focusing instead on Red Riding Hood. The monarch was listening with mounting horror as the vicious battle was described to her, blow by blow--and some other emotion was surging in her eyes as well, a growing sense of denial. Somehow, she knew what was coming, what had been the impetus to this confrontation.

But Wolf was merciless, bearing down with the full brunt of his advantage. He described in glowing detail the slashing of claws, the baring of gleaming fangs, the spilling of rich red blood to soak fur and clothes, the reckless ripping and tearing as the two wolves had pounced on one another and tumbled across the floor of his aunt Celia's cabin. And then he stopped, letting the horror sink in, before he continued in a soft, almost lyrical tone that was somehow even more chilling. "Duncan fought well, severing his father's jugular. And as Darren lay dying on the hearth, he could only listen weakly while his son repeated the words with which he had begun the struggle. 'You will never harm my mate,' my father said. 'Not while I live. I love her with all my heart, and I won't let you kill her, or take her back to Incarnadine. She belongs where she is happy...with me. And together we will end the feud that you are so set on prolonging. The feud dies with you.'" Wolf trailed off, shuddering as if it had been he who had stood there uttering those fateful words. "It wasn't until later that he felt shame and remorse for what he had done. But when he did...those feelings of guilt haunted him until the day he died. The day you burned him. The day you burned a wolf who only wanted to end the hatred and suffering, a wolf who saved your sister's life and took the life of your mother's attacker."

Each successive word made Carmine flinch, the vindication echoing in the hollow that had once been a lady's fine garden, until she seeemed to deflate, to shrink before Virginia's eyes into a frail and uncertain little girl. Her eyes darted about, as if seeking a rock to crawl under. But there was no escape.

"I...I..." She swallowed. "I had no idea. I...never heard of such a thing happening. Wolves showing regret for a killing? Wolves not being proud of their assertions of dominance? But if Darren's death were something to celebrate, word of it would have spread across the Kingdom and I would have heard...the fact that it was kept a secret suggests it was indeed a sinful thing..." Red Riding Hood seemed to be talking more to herself now, as if her conscience and vindictive nature were at war. "And if that is true, you would not say such a terrible thing had happened unless it truly had...but that would mean..." A light dawned in her eyes, the light of knowledge coupled with blinding pain.

"Yes, Auntie," Wolf said--matter-of-factly, not maliciously. "It means you've been wrong all these years."

Red Riding Hood blanched, shaking her head rapidly. "No! No, that cannot be! I cannot be wrong...I cannot..." She began to cry, softly and pitifully, as she covered her face with her hands.

Watching the tears trickle out between Carmine's fingers, Virginia was extremely confused. The words were the same stubborn ones as ever, but there was something different about them this time. They were not the arrogant words of a haughty and hateful woman. They were the words of a person who was mentally incapable of facing an unpleasant truth...and unless she misunderstood the tone of Red's voice, and the emotion in her eyes when she uncovered them, what prevented her from accepting this truth was...fear. Sheer, abject terror. But what could be the source? Everyone was wrong at least once in their lives--it was not a reason to be paralyzed by fear.

"Your Majesty," Virginia said at last. Carmine trembled. "I know it must be hard for a woman as proud as you to admit you were wrong, but no one is perfect, not even a queen. It's not the end of the world. Really it's not."

Red Riding Hood glared at her as if she had just said the most insensitive thing imaginable. "You don't understand...none of you do, or ever will. It would be useless to explain."

Even more curious, and feeling on the edge of a breakthrough, Virginia ignored the obvious dismissal and pressed harder. "Try. What harm could it do? We might surprise you."

A dark fury burned then in Carmine's eyes, but rather than lashing out with insults and insinuations, the queen only turned away, facing out into the enshrouding darkness of the bramble forest. "Leave me alone, Lady Virginia. Just...leave me alone. You have given me much to think about, much that troubles me. I cannot give you an answer now. I may never be able to. You should consider yourself lucky that I even made this much of a concession. We...we shall converse more on the morrow, and see what we shall see." She paused. "But whatever may come...I was not wrong. I could not be wrong."

Something very strange filled Virginia's heart at that moment, something she would never have thought herself capable of feeling--sympathy, sympathy for Red Riding Hood III. Despite all this woman had said and done, despite her continued refusal to unbend, Virginia could sense something very human and vulnerable about the queen. Of what haunted Carmine now, she had no inkling. But she wanted to know. Not only for the sake of Wolf and his kind, but because this was another thinking, feeling person across the campfire, one who was hurting and needed understanding. Once more she tried to discern the nature of the queen's emotional barrier, but it was beyond her--and she feared it might be as impenetrable and unyielding as the thorns at the border had been.

Seeing she could make no further headway this night, she sighed and sat back in a blue funk. Wolf, on the other hand, was clearly not willing to let this go, but as he stepped toward his aunt, she looked up at him, and the ravaged expression on her face gave him pause. Then the Piper shook his head, maneuvering himself in front of Wolf. Wolf looked stunned at his boldness, but backed down with a scratch at his temple and one last growl.

As he came back to Virginia's side, she reached out to catch his elbow. "It's all right, Wolf. I think you really got to her. We have plenty of time to keep working on her before we reach the dragon. She'll come around."

But he only muttered, "I'm glad you think so, Virginia. Because I don't know what else I can say to change her mind."

They were all silent after that, going through the motions of preparing for sleep. Red Riding Hood did nothing at all to assist, wringing her hands over and over as she crouched beside the fire, like some fairy tale version of Lady MacBeth, and Virginia guessed that characterization was not far off the mark. What thoughts were going through Carmine's mind? she wondered as she banked the fire and laid out Wolf's coat to sleep on. She was not sure she wanted to know, now. But if the terror in the face of damnation that Carmine contemplated were any indication, perhaps she resembled Lady MacBeth more than was healthy. Perhaps that, she realized in shock, was the source of Red Riding Hood's fear. She was afraid admitting she was wrong would condemn her to death for her crimes! Virginia resolved to keep a close eye on their hostage from here on out, just in case she got it into her head to remove the choice from their hands and society's by taking her own life.

As she curled up on Wolf's chest and settled down at last, Virginia glanced over at Carmine. The woman remained sitting upright, staring as if entranced by the undulating flames consuming everything she had believed in the crucible of the sunken pool, but when the Piper touched her shoulder, she finally moved, woodenly wrapping herself in her riding cloak and leaning against the prince's side. She moved as if she were a mirage, on the verge of fading away entirely. Her position was almost fetal. Even as she closed her eyes and fell asleep, the queen's face was pinched with distress and her cheeks were stained with tears. Virginia was willing to bet her dreams would be no comfort, no more than a criminal's dreams the night before being led to the gallows.