Wolfspell Page 9

  ‘Oddo!’ squealed Thora.‘Stop him! Use your magic!’

  ‘Rain and wind, I summon you!’ gasped Oddo.

  There was a streak of lightning, then a howling gale ripped at his clothes and sent him reeling against the wall. Thunder roared, and rain streamed from the rafters. Grimmr’s torch fizzled out, pitching the room into blackness. Gyda shrieked, and Grimmr blundered around, cursing and crashing into furniture.

  ‘Now what do I do?’ thought Oddo wildly.

  Hallveig’s rope came hurtling downwards, slapping him in the face. He grabbed the dangling plait of nettle just as Thora disappeared from sight. The next instant he was flying upwards. His shoulders hit the frame of the window, jammed for a moment, and then he was through, and landing with a crash on the ground.

  The moon shone on a still, calm world. Shakily, Oddo stood up and brushed the wet hair from his eyes.

  ‘Well, that was useless!’ Thora snorted. ‘I told you to stop him! All you did was wet him! Now what are we supposed to do?’

  At that moment, the guard dogs erupted round the corner of the house, baying wildly.

  ‘Find them! Chase those scoundrels!’ Grimmr roared from inside.

  23

  Wolfspell

  ‘Tanni! Mani!’ called Oddo. ‘Here!’

  The two dogs immediately stopped their barking and pattered towards him.

  ‘Good dogs,’ said Oddo.

  Grimmr burst out of the house, yelling in fury.

  ‘Now what?’ said Thora.

  Oddo flashed her a mischievous grin, then raised his eyes to the sky. He muttered something she couldn’t hear and instantly, a bank of dense black clouds streamed across the moon. The farm was plunged into darkness.

  ‘Children, children, be careful!’ Gyda was calling now, her voice anxious. ‘Don’t you go running in the dark.’

  ‘Mani!’ Thora could hear the excitement in Oddo’s voice even though he was whispering. ‘Go to the edge of the cliff. Stand there and bark. Make them think we’ve fallen over. And . . . here!’ He grabbed the dog just as it was running off. ‘Take this and drop it on the ground to lead them there.’

  ‘What are you giving him?’ whispered Thora.

  ‘My pouch. Now . . . Tanni! You go back to Gyda and pretend you’re frantic. Take her to the edge of the cliff with you. Go on!’

  Panting with eagerness, the dogs scampered away. The moon sneaked out from behind a cloud, revealing the shadowy farmyard and the two shouting figures. Oddo ducked behind the woodpile and Thora hunkered down beside him.

  ‘Hadn’t we better go?’ she asked.

  ‘Ssshh – in a minute!’

  Oddo peered over the logs, and Thora, following his gaze, saw Gyda stop at the edge of the cliff.

  ‘A rope!’ cried the old woman, and she hobbled towards the house. The worry lines on her face were deep, black furrows.

  ‘Oh, Oddo,’ whispered Thora, ‘I feel so mean. She was really kind to us and now we’ve upset her!’

  But Oddo’s expression was gleeful.

  ‘Don’t fuss,’ he said. ‘As soon as the sun comes up, she’ll find out her mistake. But while Grimmr thinks we’re down there, we’ve got a few hours to get ahead. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Come on!’ He straightened up. ‘Let’s go!’

  They set off through the darkness. Under her bare soles, Thora felt the worn cobblestones of the farmyard give way to the painful, sharp pebbles of the pathway. The hem of her long, wet skirt kept tangling round her feet.

  ‘Don’t let me really fall down the cliff!’ she prayed.

  Frantically, she scooped up armfuls of her kirtle, to keep the trailing hem from tripping her, and hurried to keep up.

  Oddo ran as if he’d never stop. Thora staggered along behind, trying to ignore the pain in her side, the ache in her arms, and the numbness of her feet.

  With the first sign of dawn came the shriek of gulls and gannets, wheeling and diving for their breakfast. Their nests were piled, tier upon tier, on the rocky cliff that tumbled from the pathway to the fjord.

  At last, to Thora’s relief, Oddo stopped running. She stumbled to a halt, dropped the wet folds of her kirtle and stretched her stiff arms.

  ‘Give me your dagger,’ she panted, ‘and I’ll cut this blasted thing shorter.’ She hacked at the hem of her skirt, then bound the spare strips of damp cloth round her feet. ‘All right, I’m ready again!’

  To her surprise, Oddo didn’t move.

  ‘I thought we’d be home by now,’ he said, ‘and we haven’t even found the river yet!’

  ‘It could be just round the corner,’ she said hopefully. ‘With all those trees and windy bits we wouldn’t know.’

  ‘But even if it is, we’re still hours from home. Stupid old Gyda, why did she say it was close when it isn’t?’

  ‘I think she just said what we wanted to hear,’ said Thora. ‘She likes to make people happy. But I reckon she was going to tell us the truth in the morning. Remember – she hinted something last night. The only problem was . . .’ She lifted her chin and grinned cockily. ‘We scudded off before she could tell us!’

  Oddo frowned at her.

  ‘Well, a fat lot of good that did! Now we’re nowhere near home. And any second, Grimmr’s going to work out we tricked him and come galloping after us!’

  ‘Well, he’s not here yet!’ Thora declared. ‘Come on, let’s hurry!’

  But instead of running, Oddo scuffed at the ground.

  Thora was horrified. ‘Hey.’ She took his hand and tried to jolly him along. ‘You’re not the sort of person to give up!’

  Oddo didn’t answer.

  ‘Come on!’ Thora exclaimed. ‘When Grimmr gets here, we’ll just do something to slow him down. Trip up his horse or . . . Yes, that’s it!’ She tugged Oddo round to face her. ‘We can frighten the horse, make it run away . . .’

  Oddo didn’t lift his head.

  ‘How?’ he growled.

  Thora racked her brain for ideas.

  ‘I know! You can ask Grey Wolf to bring his wolf pack here. That’ll work! The wolves will scare the horse and then it will rear up and throw Grimmr off, and it will run away and then Grimmr won’t be able to beat us any more!’

  She gabbled on, watching Oddo turn over her idea in his mind.

  ‘Maybe . . .’ he said consideringly. But then, to her intense disappointment, he shook his head. ‘No, it wouldn’t be fair to the wolves. Grimmr’s got that bow and arrow and stuff. He’d kill them!’

  Thora stared at him in frustration.

  ‘Then . . .’ Inspiration struck.‘Then make some magic wolves!’ she burst out triumphantly. ‘My brother Erik can magic up animals, and you’re much better at spells than he is!’

  She held her breath. This time, Oddo didn’t shake his head.

  ‘How does he do it?’ he asked cautiously.

  ‘He uses leaves and sticks . . .’

  ‘Leaves and sticks! We’ve got plenty of those!’ Oddo gestured at the trees and bushes. ‘What animals does he make?’ His eyes were brightening with enthusiasm.

  ‘Uh, butterflies, rats . . .’ Oddo waited. She shrugged. ‘That’s all, I think.’

  Oddo pulled a face.

  ‘So he doesn’t make big animals like wolves?’

  ‘No, but you could. Look.’ She swept up a fistful of leaves and twigs. ‘He makes a butterfly like this.’ She laid a twig on the ground, with leaves on either side for wings. ‘Now, here. You try.’ Excitedly, she dipped into the basket, drew out the hazel wand and handed it to him. ‘Go on.’

  Doubtfully, Oddo took the wand and tapped the butterfly shape.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘Am I supposed to say a spell or something?’ he asked.

  Thora chewed her lip and looked at him anxiously.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Oddo snorted and stood up.

  ‘We’re just wasting time,’ he said. He threw the wand on the ground and stumped off down the path.

 
‘Oddo, wait!’ called Thora, scrambling to her feet and piling the wand back into the basket. ‘Quick, Hairydog, come on.’

  Oddo was striding now, a furious scowl on his face. He disappeared among the trees.

  A minute later, Thora heard a yell. When she rounded the bend, Oddo and Hairydog were standing stock still, staring at a river gushing across their path.

  ‘The river!’ cried Thora. ‘We’re nearly home!’ She grabbed Oddo’s arm. ‘You can’t let Grimmr get past us now. You’ve got to do that wolfspell!’

  ‘And I tell you, I can’t,’ growled Oddo.

  ‘You’ve hardly tried,’ said Thora. ‘Maybe you need to use different plants or something.’

  ‘You and your herbs!’ snapped Oddo.‘I’m not trying to cure a cough or a sore leg!’

  ‘No, I mean plants that help magic things happen! You know, like the flowers we put in the circle when you make a wand.’

  Oddo tilted his head to one side and she saw a glint of interest in his eyes.

  ‘What plants?’ he demanded.

  Thora rubbed her forehead, trying to remember the plants her family used for spells.

  ‘Well, hazel of course, like your wand. And yarrow, dandelion, mugwort, marigold, wormwood . . . Look, I’ll find you some.’

  She darted among the trees, snatching up twigs and leaves, then hurried back and poured them on the ground at Oddo’s feet.

  ‘Here!’ she said, sorting through the jumble of foliage. ‘These are hazel twigs. They’re for protection.’

  Oddo squatted down beside her.

  ‘That sounds right! And these pointy leaves? What are they? They look a bit like teeth. Or ears.’

  ‘Dandelion leaves. They’re good for all sorts of magic. And so’s this one, yarrow – and look, it’s like a bushy tail.’ Thora brushed her hand across the feathery foliage.

  She could feel Oddo beginning to prickle with excitement. She picked up another leaf and held it out to him. ‘Mugwort – that’s supposed to bring strength . . . And these!’ She pounced on some furry fingers of moss and brandished them proudly. ‘They’re called wolf’s foot!’

  Oddo leaned forward as she began to arrange the collection in front of him. Finally, she sat back and looked at him for approval.

  There, lying on the ground, was a wolf made of leaves, moss and hazel twigs.

  ‘It looks good,’ said Oddo, ‘but . . .’

  Hairydog growled and turned to face the path.

  ‘Grimmr’s coming!’ Thora’s voice squeaked with agitation. ‘Go on,’ she urged. ‘You can do it!’

  Oddo stared at the leaves, not speaking. Into the waiting silence came the faint thud of distant hoofbeats.

  ‘Hurry!’ begged Thora.

  Oddo took a breath. He began to chant and his eyes seemed to sparkle with fire:

  ‘Where only leaf or twig now lies

  Make a living wolf arise!’

  Thora clenched her fists. The leaves were quivering, but was it just the wind? The hoofbeats were getting louder, closer.

  ‘Come on,’ Thora pleaded. ‘You’ve got to work.’

  Her eyes were blurring from staring so hard. The leaves and twigs seemed to be dissolving in a haze of green and brown – no, not green and brown, grey and white. She rubbed her eyes, then opened them again, and cried out in excitement.

  ‘Yes!’

  A wolf was stumbling to its feet. It moved stiffly, and its ears were rather large, but when it opened its mouth it showed a perfect set of sharp white teeth.

  Oddo was goggling at it in astonishment.

  ‘I did it!’ he whispered. ‘I made a wolfspell!’

  Hairydog was yipping urgently. Thora glanced over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of Grimmr galloping round a bend in the path. Frantically, she snatched up leaves and twigs and piled them haphazardly into wolf shapes.

  ‘Come on,’ she yelled. ‘Make more! One’s not enough!’

  24

  Disaster

  The horse was in full view now, pounding towards them, with Grimmr standing in the stirrups hollering and waving his whip.

  Every muscle in Thora’s body screamed at her to jump out of the way, but Oddo was chanting his spell, his eyes blazing as he pointed at a heap of leaves.

  The ground vibrated under the horse’s thudding hooves.

  Another wolf rose from the leaves, tail lashing, and Oddo raised his hand again. But Thora felt the wind of Grimmr’s whip. She saw the horse’s glossy, sweat-soaked body, the flaring nostrils.

  ‘Jump!’ she cried.

  She threw herself sideways – just as the horse skidded to a halt, neighing in terror.

  Grimmr soared through the air, his arrows flying from their quiver. He rolled over, then staggered to his feet, spluttering with rage, and drew his sword with a loud scrrrape.

  The magic wolves milled around him, slavering and snarling, and he reached out to slash at them with his sword. The shock on his face as the blade just sliced through the pack made Thora hoot with glee. One wolf sank its teeth into Grimmr’s leg and began to pull.

  ‘Hey!’ yelled Grimmr, swinging wildly with his sword.

  The wolf let go and Grimmr toppled backwards with a roar. As he tried to beat off the claws tearing and scratching at him, Oddo gave a shout, and pointed.

  ‘Look!’ he cried.

  Grimmr’s horse was galloping into the distance.

  ‘Yes!’ yelled Thora. ‘We did it!’

  Grimmr staggered to his feet, eyes bloodshot, clothes in tatters. He threw Thora a look of hatred.

  ‘You witch!’ he croaked.

  He tried to run, but a large wolf blocked his way, growling and baring its teeth.

  ‘All right, Wolf, that’s enough!’ called Oddo.

  He stepped forward to pull the creature away, and Grimmr lifted his sword for one last swipe . . .

  ‘No!’ screamed Thora, as the sword blade fell.

  But Grimmr, free at last, hastened away without even glancing over his shoulder.

  Behind him, Oddo crumpled to the ground, and a bright thread of red began to trickle across the pathway.

  ‘Oddo!’

  Thora rushed towards him, all her laughter and elation drained away. The face that turned to hers was as white as the feathers of a willow grouse, but the cloth of his breeches was red with blood.

  Oddo tried to smile.

  ‘Time for Thora’s healing tricks!’ he whispered. ‘You’d better be quick. I’ve got to catch up with Grimmr!’

  ‘But I don’t have a cauldron for boiling a potion!’ wailed Thora.

  She pressed her fingers to her temples and tried to think. What herbs could she use that didn’t need to be boiled?

  ‘Yarrow!’ she cried, ‘The leaves will staunch the blood. And chickweed . . .’

  Frantically she thrust bushes aside, heedless of the spikes of brambles and the prick of nettles, searching for the plants she needed.

  And then she stopped and stared. At her feet was the single furry stem of a mountain sun bloom. Never yet had she dared to use that smelly flower with its pungent taste and knobbly roots. ‘Just you be careful with that one,’ Granny had warned her.‘It may do your patients the world of good, but it can also kill them!’ Thora grabbed a stick, thrust it under the roots and levered the sun bloom out of the ground.

  A few moments later, she was back by Oddo’s side. As she picked up his dagger, his eyes widened.

  ‘I’ve just . . . got to . . . get at your leg,’ she said, trying to hack at the blood-drenched cloth of his breeches.

  She wrapped the wound in yarrow leaves and chickweed, tying them tightly in place with cloth torn from her kirtle. She rolled a rock under Oddo’s leg to raise it off the ground. Then she sat back on her heels to watch.

  The bleeding stopped; but Oddo’s lips were now as white as his face, and he hardly seemed to be breathing. Thora touched his hand, and his skin felt cold.

  She looked at the sun bloom lying on the ground beside her, the soil still c
linging to its dark, ugly roots.

  ‘I’m going to make an infusion,’ she announced, picking up the flower. ‘I just need some water to soak this in.’ She rummaged in her basket. ‘My leather pouch will do for a water bag.’

  Impatiently, she upended the basket and shook out the contents. Out fell a stone, the bag of barley and the braided rope.

  But no pouch.

  Feverishly, Thora scrabbled through the jumble again. She could feel her heart thudding and she knew her cheeks were turning as pink as Oddo’s were white. She glanced up and saw Oddo’s eyes half open, watching her.

  ‘What’s . . . the matter?’ he stammered.

  ‘My pouch of silver,’ cried Thora. ‘It’s gone!’

  25

  Oddo returns

  Oddo’s eyes widened and they stared at each other in disbelief.

  Thora pictured her family waiting at home, trusting her to bring home the taxes. Then she stood up and blotted it out of her mind.

  ‘Never mind,’ she said, ‘I’ll find something different to carry the water in . . .’

  She spied a loose strand of bark hanging off a tree. In an instant, she had ripped it off, coiled it into the shape of a drinking horn and was racing down to the river.

  ‘Stay there, Hairydog,’ she called. ‘And keep Oddo warm!’

  A moment later she was back, but one glance at Oddo’s blanched face and closed eyes set her frantically crumbling the sun-bloom root and tearing petals from its bud. She dropped them into her improvised cup, then sat back on her heels, forcing herself to wait till the healing powers of the plant had seeped into the water.

  Propping up Oddo’s head, she lowered the cup to his lips. To her exasperation, most of the infusion trickled down his chin. Impetuously, she dipped a corner of her sleeve into the liquid, and pressed the dripping cloth between his lips. Almost immediately, colour returned to his cheeks, his eyelids flickered, and he opened his eyes.

  ‘Augh!’ he said, spitting out the cloth. ‘What’s this disgusting stuff you’re feeding me?’

  Thora smiled as tears of relief rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘It’s a healing herb,’ she said. ‘Just have a little bit more.’