Hapenny Magick (15 page)

“I deserved that.” Leif rubbed his arm. “But I couldn't leave you behind. Wizard or not.”

“You believe me?”

Leif shrugged. “I guess.” His dimple pulled at his cheek when he smiled. Mae gave him another squeeze and then rolled to her knees.

Leif groaned as he stood. “My muscles are so stiff—you've no idea what it feels like to be stuffed into a copper kettle.”

“Well, we're gonna know what it feels like to be stuffed into a troll's belly if we don't find a way to protect ourselves. We have to warn everyone.”

Leif pointed across the river. “Trolls!” The shadows in the forest were lumpy and shifting in an unnatural fashion. “What if the villagers don't believe me?”

“They will,” Aletta said. “You've been missing for days, right?”

Leif nodded.

“So, go to your father first. Tell him what happened,” Mae said. “He'll help you convince the others to fight.”

“And Callum should be in the village square by now. He'll back your word as well,” Aletta added. “Go, Leif! We're running out of time.”

Leif's eyes were wide with fright. Mae kissed his cheek. “Go! We'll be fine.”

His eyes darted from Mae to Aletta and back. “I can't leave you.”

“You must!” Mae cried.

“I'll be back as soon as I can. Protect her, Aletta, please.” Leif turned and ran for the village.

Aletta scanned the edge of the forest. “I can't help you with the runes, Mae, but I can keep the trolls at bay for a while. Are you ready?”

Mae nodded. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the wooden planks of the bridge. The boards squeaked beneath her. She felt the beady stares of the trolls pierce her skin. Above her, the birds shrieked through the thick crown of the forest. Mae gripped her wand and scurried across the bridge.

Gelbane had left deep gouges in the stone face of each pillar. Even if Mae could repair the damage, would it be strong enough to hold back an army of trolls? Perhaps she should convince the village to get rid of the bridge. The number of shifting shadows in the forest grew as the sky darkened from the coming storm. Mae shook her head to clear her thoughts. This was no time for doubts.

The tip of her wand scratched against the surface as Mae traced the shapes of the runes onto the pillar, over and over, but the runes would not carve into the face. She'd memorized the protection symbols from the newspaper clipping. She was clearly picturing them in her head. Why wasn't it working?

Beads of sweat popped to the surface of her forehead. She swiped at the dampening curls that stuck to her face.

Clouds piled on top of each other. Thunder grumbled in the distance. A troll stepped out of the trees and onto the path. Aletta shifted from foot to foot. She gripped her wand. “How much longer, Mae?”

“It's not working!” she whispered. “What am I supposed to do?”

“
Tan-ima silex silticus
!” Aletta's voice rang in Mae's ear. The troll stopped as the spell narrowly missed him, ricocheting off the path and striking a tree. A loud cracking reverberated through the forest as the tree's trunk turned to stone. Like a fire that has been put out suddenly with a pail of water, the leaves hissed as they were silenced.

“Use your heart, Mae. The magick has to come from you.” Aletta raised her wand again and yelled across the path. “I won't miss next time!”

Mae crouched, leaning her forehead against the pillar. The thunder grew closer. How did Callum and Aletta ever think a lone hapenny would be strong enough to be the Protector of the Wedge? She might have a bit of magick, but it wasn't strong enough. She sniffed back tears. Crying wouldn't help anything, either, but she couldn't do this on her own.

“Don't give up now, Maewyn!” Aletta hissed as she let another spell fly. This one landed on its mark, and a stone troll grew up in the middle of the path. Rain began to fall, stinging against Mae's cheeks. Another troll stepped bravely onto the path.

Behind her, Mae heard footfalls. She glanced over her shoulder.

Leif and Callum rushed around the bend, leading a band of hapennies.

Chapter Seventeen

Mr. Whiteknoll was at the front of the line, his lavender cape swirling about his ankles, small bells sewn to the hem. He gripped an upholstery needle in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. Ms. Gnarlroot carried a shovel, while Farmer Burrbridge carried a pitchfork. Even old Widow Bridgepath had shown up, her knuckles white from the grip of her wrinkled hands around the handle of a cast-iron pan. Many others were there, too, with whatever they could grab that might keep a troll at bay. More hapennies trickled in behind them. Some wore pots on their heads like helmets. Others had real armor, remnants of a time when the Wedge didn't have a wizard to help safeguard their village. The villagers had come to protect the Wedge. They had come to protect her.

Mae took a deep breath. “I'm the smallest hapenny in the village. I don't know if I can do this.”

“It isn't the size of your body that matters,” Callum said, “but the size of your heart.”

Leif walked to her and folded her hand in his. “I'll stand right beside you, no matter what.”

A large raven settled at the top of a bridge pillar. “Come, Maewyn!” he called.

Today, Remy's calling of her name felt like a battle cry. Maybe it didn't matter what size you were, as long as you were in it with friends, with
family
. She pictured the villagers' homes nestled in the tree roots and dug into the hillsides, their loved ones counting on them for protection. Her heart swelled at the sight of the wrinkled face of Widow Bridgepath and of Leif's dad, Mr. Burrbridge, weapons quaking with anticipation.

“It's high time a hapenny was born a Protector!” Mr. Whiteknoll yelled.

“Hear, hear!” Mr. Burrbridge cheered.

With renewed determination, Mae stowed the wand in her pocket and fished out the raven carving Leif had made for her. She tightened her grasp on Leif's hand and closed her other fist around the wooden carving. She pictured a great raven in her mind. His color was as deep as a moonless night, his talons as sharp as knives. The raven's eyes were keen, able to see for miles. She felt a great wind stir as the bird beat its wings. Intense magick stirred within her, power coming from deep within.

Mae filled the bird in her mind with the memories of her mother and father and the songs and stories of the hapenny people. She filled the raven with hope and love until pinpricks of light shone through his feathers like stars in the sky. Mae let the magick flow through her and into the carving gripped in her hand. Her legs shook uncontrollably; her arms felt like heavy bags of flour, and still she poured her memories into the raven, until her legs buckled underneath her. The crowd of hapennies gasped as she collapsed against the rough surface of the pillar.

Chapter Eighteen

Someone was shaking her and calling her name. Mae blinked and looked into Leif's face.

“Are you all right?” Aletta was close, too.

She turned to see lines of worry etched across the wizard's forehead.

The hapenny villagers had drawn close, stomping their feet in rhythm and chanting, all ears perked forward and alert, noses twitching, weapons poised for action. Mae uncurled her fingers. Sawdust blew from her palm. The carving Leif had given her was destroyed.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, Leif. Your beautiful carving.”

“Forget about it; it isn't important,” Leif said. “It can be replaced.”

“What's happening?” Mae asked.

Aletta pulled Mae to her feet. “Leif, take her to Callum, she needs to rest. You've done what you could, Mae. Now it's up to the rest of us.”

Mae peered around Aletta. Where the pillars of the bridge used to be, four great stone ravens stood sentinel. They looked identical: wings tucked tight to their bodies, feathers that stuck out haphazardly on their chests, long, curving beaks. Each bird was facing a different direction—north, south, east, and west. On each of their chests, a medallion nestled into their feathers bearing the runes of protection. The black stone they were made of shone like a new iron skillet through the rain. Mae was awed by the ravens' size and gleaming black eyes. Would her magick be strong enough to protect the Wedge from the horde of trolls?

Mae picked Gelbane out of the crowd on the other side of the bridge. Gelbane pointed at her and licked her lips. Thunder clapped. The lightning that followed made the trolls' faces look even more sunken and starved. The sound of the village bell tolled in the distance.

Aletta spun from Mae and a spout of magick erupted from her wand. Still the trolls kept coming. The army of hapennies pushed forward, swallowing Mae and Leif in their numbers. Callum tugged her from the crush. “Come, Maewyn. You need to rest.”

Mae yanked her arm from the wizard's grasp. “No! I will not leave my friends. We have to help fight!”

Callum's shoulders sank. “I'm a kitchen witch, Mae. I'm not a great warrior.”

“And I'm the smallest hapenny in the Wedge, but I'm not going to stand by as my friends become troll chow.” Mae pushed through the crowd, leaving Callum and Leif behind. The wind drove the rain into her already sodden clothes. Her body ached with weariness and cold, but she stood shoulder to hip with Aletta and raised her wand.

There were more stone trolls than Mae could count on her fingers and toes. She peered into the mass of green and aimed for the wide-hipped Gelbane. “Troll to coal!” A blue zap of magick erupted from the tip of her wand and struck its mark. Gelbane's legs turned to stone, and she was stuck in the middle of the path. Another troll quickly took cover behind her. Gelbane pivoted and hit the troll with her meaty fists. “You'll not cower behind me! I could've kept all the hapennies to myself and instead I decided to share the lot with you ungrateful, no-good nitwits!”

The troll darted away from Gelbane's flashing fists and stinging words. It was Taureck! She quickly seized another to hide behind, but her cover was soon hit by a stone spell cast by Aletta. His arm crumbled from his body.

“I can't hold them anymore, Mae,” Aletta said. “There are too many, and my magick is fading.” She pulled on Mae's sleeve, dragging her off the bridge.

“What are we to do, then?” Mae asked.

“We fight! Like warriors! Grab whatever you can find!”

A mass of trolls gathered at the edge of the river. They moved warily closer. Taureck pushed a smaller troll onto the middle of the bridge. The troll stumbled and froze, a grimace on his face and his fists curled tight. When nothing happened, he relaxed and sneered at the villagers. His shoulders straightened with confidence. He bared his claws and hissed at the hapennies.

Lightening rippled across the surface of one stone raven, and then a second. “Get off the bridge!” Mae yelled to the villagers, waving frantically for them to retreat.

“Yes! You'd better run and hide, my little sweetmeats,” Taureck cackled. “Cos' we're coming over for dinner!”