Chapter 9: The Robbers Attack

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The mood at the breakfast table the next morning was somber.  Everyone was quiet as they ate their gruel.

Brian’s wound was feeling more painful on the second day.  Margaret put some more salve on it to try to stop it from getting infected, but it still hurt him to move. Margaret told him to stay in bed, and she brought his gruel over to him.  The beds were against the wall of the cave, so Brian propped his back up against the cave wall while he reclined on the bed. 

As for Margaret, she was trying to go on as normal, but everyone could see that she was not herself.  When she moved, she dragged herself around the room.  When she spoke, her voice was tinged with sadness.  

Catherine tried to clear her thoughts and eat her gruel, but she was also haunted by her thoughts.  She was still feeling upset about the strange energies that were flowing through her body, but now added to this original worry, she was trying to process the death of her father.  It felt like it was all too much to bear, and all through breakfast, Catherine kept her head down and avoided making eye-contact with anyone.

But Carlyle had moved past despair, and was now beginning to feel increasingly angry.  The previous night he had been in too much shock to feel much of anything.  But now that the reality of his father’s death was settling in, he was starting to feel angry--angry at what they had taken from him, angry that his father’s killers still walked the mountain with impunity, angry that this father’s death had not been avenged.

“It’s not right,” Carlyle burst out suddenly.

“What’s not right?” asked Alfred.

“It’s not right that they can kill a man and then just go back to their caves.  It’s not right that we sit here and do nothing.”

“What would you have us do?” called out Brian from where he was reclining on the bed.

“Something,” Carlyle said.  “Go over and fight them.  Stab them in the chest and see how they like it.  And take back my father’s sword.”

There was an awkward silence after this, and then Margaret said, “You know how your father would have felt about this.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted me to take any risks,” said Carlyle.  “That was how he lived his whole life.  And look where that got him.”

Margaret looked at Carlyle sadly.  “That was not how he lived his whole life,” she said.  “If you only knew the risks that he took…”

“Then why don’t you tell us,” Catherine interrupted.

“You’ll understand someday,” said Margaret.

“I understand enough,” said Carlyle.  “We sit in our house and cower and never fight back, and those robbers kill us whenever they like.  What have we got to lose by fighting back?”

“Fighting back with what?” asked Brian.  “They took your father’s sword.  Do you think you can just go and fight them with your bare hands?”

“We have other weapons around,” said Carlyle.  “We have the axes and the clubs, and the crossbow.”

“It’s no use arguing with him when he gets like this,” Margaret said to Brian.  “He just needs to blow off some steam and use up that energy first.  Then you can try to talk sense into him when he’s calmed down.”

She turned to Alfred and Carlyle next.  “We’ll need more wood if we are going to trade with the forest people again,” she said.  “Grab those axes you were just talking about, and go out and cut down some more trees.”

Carlyle and Alfred both stood up.  Carlyle grabbed the two axes from the cave wall and then walked to the door.  Alfred followed him.  Carlyle undid the first bar holding the door shut, and then the second one.  He opened the door, and saw five men standing at the doorway.

Carlyle tried to quickly shut the door again, but they pushed back against the door with such force that the door swung back and knocked Carlyle to the ground.  Then, all five of them pushed their way into the house.

“Well, you kept us waiting a long time,” one of the five chuckled.  “Mountain folk are supposed to wake up earlier than that.  I hope you enjoyed that nice long breakfast.”

Carlyle scrambled back up to his feet.  The men pointed their swords at him threateningly, and he backed himself up against the wall.  

One of the other men pointed at Brian.  “You were right Zed,” he said to the first one who had spoken.  “That’s him alright.”

“I told you that it was the same cart outside,” said Zed.  Zed looked over at Brian.  “Well, well, we meet again,” he said.  “You gave us quite a run yesterday.”

“What do you want,” Brian said.  “You already got everything from our cart.”

“We don’t like to leave any loose ends,” Zed said, pointing his sword at Brian.

Catherine and Carlyle’s eyes immediately went to the sword.  “That’s my father’s sword,” said Catherine.

“Ah, more loose ends, I see,” said Zed.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll take care of all of you.”

“Give us back my father’s sword,” said Carlyle.

The robbers just laughed.  “You don’t seem to realize what’s going on here,” said Zed.  

“Let’s get on with it, Zed,” said one of the robbers irritably.  “What’s worth taking here?”

“Strip all the iron from the doors,” said Zed.  “We can resell that.  Take the axes, and any other weapons you can find.  And take all the food.  We’ll need it with winter coming.”

“And what about them?” the man asked.

“Start killing them now,” Zed said.  He held out his sword towards Brian.  “Starting with him.”  Zed started walking towards Brian.

“Give me back my father’s sword,” said Carlyle, stepping toward Zed.

As soon as Carlyle stepped forward, Zed abruptly changed direction and turned back toward Carlyle.  He swung his sword in Carlyle’s direction.  It was a wild swing--Carlyle was still a few feet away from Zed, and he wasn’t close enough to be hit.  But Carlyle instinctively jumped backwards nonetheless.  The sword made a whooshing sound as it cut through the air.  

While Zed was turned to face Carlyle, Catherine rushed forward and grabbed at the sword.  Catherine grabbed at the wrist of Zed’s sword hand with her left hand, and with her right hand she tried to get ahold of the handle of the sword. Zed tried to hit her with his free hand, but then Alfred rushed over and grabbed Zed’s other arm.  Zed struggled to free himself from the two teenagers, and when he couldn’t pull himself free, he kicked at them with his legs.   Alfred and Catherine kicked back, and the three of them grappled and kicked and clawed as both Catherine and Alfred tried to pry the sword out of Jed’s hands.  

“Catherine, no!  Catherine, stop it!” Margaret screamed.  

Two other robbers rushed forward to help Zed.  Carlyle picked up one of the axes he had dropped on the floor, and started swinging it at the robbers.  Even though they were armed with swords, Carlyle swung with such ferocity that he was able to keep these two robbers at bay.  They retreated slightly, fending off Carlyle’s ax swings with their swords, and waiting for him to get tired.

While all this was going on, Brian managed to reach over from his bed and grab the crossbow and the sack of arrows from where they were hanging on the wall.   He fumbled around with one of the arrows, and managed to fit it into the crossbow just in time.  Just as one of the robbers was running at Brian with his sword raised, Brian was able to fire the arrow off.  It lodged into the man’s breast, and the man immediately dropped to the floor. Brian then grabbed another arrow, and tried to get it fitted into the crossbow.  

While this was happening, Catherine and Alfred were still grappling with Zed over the sword.  Since Catherine wasn’t listening to Margaret’s pleas to stop, Margaret actually stepped forward and grabbed onto Zed with them.  It looked strange to see Margaret’s wrinkled arms joining in the struggle, but Margaret was surprisingly tough for her age, just like Finn had been.  

Margaret could see that there was no way Catherine could let go of Zed now.  The moment she would loosen up her grip on Zed’s arms, Zed would slash at them with her sword.  But Margaret pleaded, “Just keep calm, Catherine.  Don’t lose control, Catherine.  I’m here to help.  Everything is going to be alright.”

Just as Margaret was saying this, however, another one of the robbers grabbed Margaret from behind and pulled off of Zed. In fact, he pulled Margaret off with such force that she was flung backwards into the kitchen shelf.  Clay plates and cups clattered to the floor. The robber then drew his knife from his sheath, and ran at Margaret.  Margaret grabbed his arm and held the knife at bay.  She was tough for an old woman.

“Mother!” Catherine yelled out.  Catherine wanted to help her mother, but she still couldn’t let go of Zed’s arms. “Leave my mother alone!” Catherine screamed.

It was at this point that Catherine felt the energy inside her suddenly begin to surge.  The shock of seeing her mother attacked had caused Catherine to panic, and the panic had triggered the energy.  It was becoming too big.  It had to come out.  Catherine didn’t think she could stop it now even if she wanted to.  But she also didn’t want to.  She wanted to release that terrible energy.  She wanted to get it out of her body.  She was also angry enough at the robbers that she didn’t care what happened to them.

The energy welled up in Catherine.  She shut her eyes briefly as she contemplated what she was about to do.  Then she opened her eyes, and turned her head abruptly to Alfred.  “Let go,” Catherine said.

Alfred didn’t understand.  Why would Catherine tell him to let go?  They needed both of them to try to hold Zed back.  But then Alfred felt Zed’s body suddenly become hot, and he quickly let go as he jumped backwards.

Zed screamed in pain. He dropped the sword.  He jerked backwards, and tried to free himself from Catherine’s grip.  But Catherine grabbed onto Jed with both hands, and tightened her grip. 

Zed’s screaming was so loud it shocked everyone in the room.  Everyone stopped what they were doing, and looked.  The robber that was fighting Margaret stopped trying to attack her, and just looked with horror at what was happening to Zed.  Margaret was also horrified.  “Catherine, no!”  she yelled.

Zed kept screaming.  Catherine closed her eyes and let the energy flow through her.  It felt surprisingly good.  For the past few days she had been struggling to keep the energy contained when it didn’t want to be contained.  It felt like an amazing relief to let it all out.

And then, Zed’s body burst into flames.  He was still alive--he was still screaming and writhing, as Catherine gripped him tight, but flames were now shooting out from his skin.  Catherine, however, did not seem to be bothered by the flames.

The fighting in the rest of the house had come to a complete stop.  Everyone was now watching.

“Catherine, stop it!” Margaret yelled.  She approached Catherine and tried to pull her off of Zed, but Margaret found the heat from the fire was too hot for her, and she had to step back. 

Zed’s whole body was now  in flames.  His screaming was becoming more and more high pitched, and his voice was filled with pain.  Everyone cringed at the sound of that pitiful voice.  Everyone, that is, except Catherine.

The smell of burning flesh was filling the room.  It was now obvious to everyone that it was too late to try to save Zed.  The only humane thing to do was to put him out of his misery.

Brian had by this time managed to fit another arrow into the crossbow.  He stood up, and walked over.  He leveled the crossbow at Zed’s chest.  Brian’s hand was shaking.  He wasn’t a nervous man by nature, but the agonizing sounds of Zed’s screams had unnerved him.  Brian gripped the crossbow with both hands, and tried to steady himself.  He fired the arrow, and the arrow buried itself into Zed’s chest.  Zed’s screaming stopped. and his head slumped down to his chest.

Catherine, seeming to come to her senses, released her hold on Zed’s arms.  The burning body fell limply to the ground.  Catherine looked down at the body, and began to wonder what had just happened.

The three remaining robbers looked at Catherine.  At first their eyes were filled with fear, but quickly the look changed to hate.

“She killed Zed!” one of them yelled angrily.  “That little witch killed Zed!”

“We’ll make her pay,” another one said.

“She can’t hurt us if she can’t touch us,” the third one said.  “Slice her up with your swords, and don’t let her near enough to grab you.”

Catherine looked up from the burning body, and stared at the remaining robbers.  There was no fear in her eyes.  Balls of glowing yellow energy formed in the palms of her hands. 

Meanwhile Brian frantically fiddled with the crossbow and tried to put another arrow in place while Carlyle darted down to pick up his father’s sword from the ground.  

“I see you have your father’s sword again,” one of the robbers said mockingly.  “Now let’s see if you can use it.”

The robbers rushed forward with their swords.  Two of them rushed straight for Carlyle.  He managed to parry both of their blades.  Another robber pointed his sword at Catherine, and rushed at her.  Alfred, who had picked up one of the axes now, rushed to Catherine’s defense and hacked at the robber with the ax.  The robber turned his sword to parry Aflred’s blow, while the robber left his side unguarded and this allowed Catherine to dart forward and grab hold of his arm.  Catherine felt the energy well up inside here again.  She closed her eyes.

But before Catherine could release the energy, she felt herself being pulled backwards by her mother.  “No Catherine,” Margaret said calmly, but firmly.  “You don’t want to do that.  Let the others handle the fighting.”

“They need me!” Catherine insisted.

“They can do it,” Margaret said.

Brian had by this time succeeded in getting another arrow fitted into the crossbow.  He pointed and shot, killing the robber that Alfred was fighting.   

That left the last two robbers, who Carlyle was still fighting against.  It was two against one, but Carlyle was fighting like he was possessed.  All of the anger about his father’s death was coming out now, and Carlyle was swinging his sword with all of his might.  Instead of gaining ground against Carlyle, the two found themselves slowly backing away before the onslaught of his furious sword.

Then, Alfred joined in, hacking the ax at them.

Meanwhile, Brian was busy fumbling around with the crossbow, trying to load another arrow into it.

And it was at this point that the last two remaining robbers turned and ran out the doorway.

Carlyle was too exhausted to run after them.  He had been swinging with his sword furiously during the whole fight, and he was completely out of breath. As soon as the robbers left, Carlyle collapsed on the floor and tried to catch his breath

All of them were too exhausted to pursue the robbers.  Now that the danger was over, Brian’s legs began to buckle, and Margaret had to steady him and helped him to the bed

The flames on Zed’s dead body were slowly dying out now.

“What happened?” asked Brian.  Brian initially directed his question at Catherine, but Catherine stayed silent and looked at the ground.  So Brian turned to Margaret.  “What happened?” he asked again.

“In all the confusion and excitement,” Margaret said slowly, “It’s hard to tell what exactly happened.  There was some fighting.  You were occupied defending yourself against one of the robbers.  And while you were distracted, I think Zed might have accidentally gotten too near to the fireplace.”

“But the fire’s all the way over there,” said Brian.

“The door was wide open this whole time,” said Margaret.  “Usually we keep it bolted shut, but when it’s wide open, it has a strange way of sucking the air out of the cave.  I think some of the sparks from the fire must have gotten caught in the wind, and landed on Zed’s clothes.  Then, once Zed caught fire, Catherine held his arms so that he couldn’t put himself out.  The poor man couldn’t put himself out, and the fir enveloped him.”

Brian stared at Margaret.  He was looking at her face carefully, as if he was seeing Margaret for the first time.  Then he spoke slowly, “I’m not so sure that’s what happened.”

“I’m sure we all have different memories of things,” Margaret said.  “It was a traumatic event, and things happened so fast, we’re bound to have slightly different interpretations of what we saw.  Who can be sure about anything?”

Brian nodded, but his face looked skeptical.

Catherine kept silent.

“The important thing,” said Margaret, looking around the room and making eye contact with Alfred, Brian and Carlyle in turn, “is that we don’t want to spread rumors among the mountain folk if we aren’t sure of what happened.  So we shouldn’t talk about it outside this room.”

Margaret waited for an acknowledgement, and after a moment’s pause, Alfred, Brian and Carlyle all nodded their heads.

“We’ve got bigger things to worry about anyway,” Brian mumbled.  “Two of them got away.  That means they’ll be back with more of their gang.  And if they come back with 20 or 30 of them, we won’t be able to fight them off.  We can’t stay here any longer.  We’ll need to change houses.  We can stay at my house.  It’s not as sturdy as yours, but the robbers don’t yet know where I live.”

“What happens when they find your house?” asked Carlyle.

“Then we’ll move again,” said Brian.  “Or they’ll kill us all.  One or the other.”

“When do we start fighting back?” Carlyle asked.  “We don’t have to just let ourselves be attacked.  We can resist.  You saw what happened just now when we fought back.”

“That was against 5 men,” said Brian.  “There must be over 100 robbers on this mountain.  You can’t fight them all.”

“Not by myself,” said Carlyle.  “But if we get all the mountain folk together, we might have a chance.  It’s better than just waiting for them to kill us.”

Brian snorted.  “You think you can organize these mountain folk to do anything?  Then you go ahead and be my guest!”

“The first thing we need to do,” said Margaret sharply, “is get rid of these dead bodies.  I don’t want them sitting in this house a moment longer.  And we don’t want to leave them just outside the door either.  It’ll just be a signal to any robbers passing by.”

“We can throw them in among the trees,” Brian said.  “The wolves will find the dead bodies soon enough.”

“Help the boys take them,” Margaret said.  “Catherine and I will stay behind and try to clean up the house.”

Carlyle and Alfred took the three dead bodies outside, including the burned body, and loaded them onto the cart.  Brian supervised them.

As soon as the boys had left the house, Margaret immediately felt Catherine’s eyes on her.

“Catherine, you have to trust me,” said Margaret.  “When the time is right, I will tell you everything you know.  But your time has not yet come.  And for your own protection, there are certain things that I must keep from you until the time is right.” 

Margaret stopped, and analyzed Catherine’s face to see how she was reacting to all this.  But Catherine did not react.  Her face was simply passive, as if she had resigned herself to this already. So Margaret continued.  “There are also certain things that even I do not understand.  So there will be some questions I will never be able to answer.”

“It felt good,” Catherine said quietly.  “Letting that energy flow through me, letting it all come out, it felt…” Catherine paused and searched for the right word to describe the euphoric feeling that had flooded through her when she had released the magic.  But being unable to think of a suitable word, she just finished, “it felt good.”

Margaret took a deep breath, and let the air out slowly.  Catherine could hear a tremor in Margaret’s breath.  “Catherine, it must be controlled.  You cannot let it out like that.  For one thing, if word of your abilities spreads, it will soon enough bring unwanted attention from those I have done my best to hide you from.”  Catherine opened her mouth to ask a question, but Margaret anticipated it, and held up her hand to silence Catherine.  “It’s not yet time for me to tell you everything.  But secondly, listen to me Catherine, secondly you must not get into the habit of letting that energy out.  It will start to control you.”

“The energy is inside me now,” Catherine said.  “I didn’t want it, I didn’t summon it, but it’s there.  And it wants to come out.  And I don’t think I can control it even if I wanted to.”

“You remember the herb I gave you?” Margaret said.

“That herb makes me feel terrible,” Catherine said.  “I don’t want to poison myself.”

“It’s important to keep the energy under control,” Margaret said.  “Don’t let the energy control you.  The herb will help you.  I’m sorry, but I can give you no more guidance than this.  I do not have the energy myself, and unfortunately I did not anticipate that you would inherit it.  For now, just do everything you can to stop it, and maybe someday you’ll learn to control it.”

Catherine looked down at her hands.  Now that the excitement was over, and her heart rate had calmed down, there was no yellow glow coming from her palms anymore.  Catherine tried to will it back, but she found she could not.

Catherine looked back up at her mother.  “Do you understand, Catherine?” Margaret asked.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Catherine said.  And she turned around and walked away before Margaret could say anything more.

Chapter 8: Arthur's Story

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They burned Finn’s body at dusk.

Carlyle and Alfred collected all the logs into a large funeral pyre.  Finn’s body was put on top of it, and Margaret kindled the fire.  She sobbed softly while the fire burned.  

Carlyle stood and watched the fire, and listened to his mother cry.  He wanted to cry for his father, but no tears came.  He wondered what was wrong with him.  The truth was that he couldn’t cry because his mind was still processing what had happened.  He still couldn’t believe that his father was really dead.  But he was still too young to realize that grief was a process, and so he felt guilty for not being able to cry.

Catherine, as she watched the fire burn, momentarily felt grief.  But as the strong emotion welled up in her, the energy welled up within her as well.  It felt like electricity was surging out of her stomach, through her arms, and was flowing out of her fingertips.  She thought about the herb in her pocket, but she decided not to grab it.  She didn’t want to throw up.  Not now.

After the fire had burned itself up, they said their final goodbyes to Finn’s ashes, and went back into the house.  

Margaret bolted the door behind them.

Arthur was lying in one of the beds, waiting for them.  Margaret had insisted he stay in bed and not come out for the funeral.  She was worried that even slight moving around would tear his stitches.

“We need tea,” Margaret said once they were all inside.  “I’ve got a herbal mix that’s good for calming us down.”  

Margaret boiled the water, and then mixed it with some of her herbs.  After she had served the tea to everyone, she looked at Arthur.  “It’s time,” she said.  “It’s time for you to tell us what happened to Finn.”

“Yes,” Carlyle agreed.  “Tell us what happened.”

Arthur sat up in his bed.  “There’s not much to tell,” he said.  “It was an ambush.  Clear and simple.  The type of ambush that happens all the time in these mountains.  Finn and I were pulling the cart up the mountain road.  We were loaded up with supplies, so the cart was heavy and we were moving pretty slow.  Suddenly, ten robbers sprung out from the trees and stood in the path in front of us.  And ten robbers appeared behind us.

“I immediately took out my sword.  But Finn never reached for his weapon.  Finn growled at me, ‘Put away your sword, you fool.  We can’t possibly win when we’re two against 20.  Our only hope is to talk to them.’”

Arthur stopped talking and looked down into his tea.  He took a slow sip, and then continued.  “Now, if they had been goblins or ogres, or any other kind of monster, I would never have agreed to put my sword down.  You can’t reason with monsters.  But these were human beings just like ourselves, and I thought maybe Finn was right.  Maybe we could talk to them.  So I threw my sword down on the ground.

“‘We won’t fight you,’ Finn said to the robbers.  ‘Take what you want, and leave us be.’  But the robbers didn’t put away their swords.  In fact, as they came closer, they just laughed.  It wasn’t a friendly laugh.

“Finn just smiled at them though.  ‘It’s no good killing us, boys,’ he said to them.  ‘If we’re dead, we can’t make any more trips up and down the mountain, and we can’t get any more supplies for you to rob.  You’ll want to keep us alive so that you can rob us again someday.’ 

“It was a good point, I thought.  It would have convinced me if I had been a robber.  But they didn’t listen to reason.  I think they had already decided they were going to kill us, and so they weren’t really listening to anything that Finn was saying.  One of them said, ‘There’s enough riff-raff on this mountain already.’  And he stuck his sword right into Finn’s chest.  Finn wasn’t even holding a weapon at the time.  He had no chance to defend himself.”

“So how did you get away?” asked Catherine.

Arthur paused slightly.  He thought maybe he was detecting a bit of an edge in Catherine’s voice, but he wasn’t sure.  “I ran,” he said.  “I’m not proud, but there it is.  I ran and I left Finn to die on the road.”  Arthur spit out the last words.

“There was nothing you could have done,” Margaret said.  Her voice was flat and emotionless.

“The thing is,” Arthur continued, “One man can never defeat 20 men in a fight, because they would fight as a group.  But in a footrace, everyone has to run as an individual. So one man might just be able to outrun 20 men.  So I just decided to run for it.  When Finn was talking to them, right before they stabbed him, they were all kind of closing around him, and this created a gap that I could sneak through.  As soon as their sword plunged into Finn’s chest, I dashed through the gap, and just ran as fast as I could.  One of them thrust his sword at my side as I ran by.  I guess that’s where I must have gotten this,” Arthur gestured to his wound that Margaret had sewn up.  “But I barely felt it at the time.  I was just trying to run as fast as I could.  Some of them followed me for a bit, but I was faster than they were, and so they weren’t gaining any ground.  And eventually they decided to let me go, and concentrate on cleaning out the cart instead.”

Alfred piped up.  “They took everything,” he said.  “When we got to the cart, it was completely empty.”

“It was a good haul too,” Arthur said wistfully.  “There was plenty of food to get both of our families through the winter--Sacks of grain and flour, dried berries and nuts and roots.  Plus lots of iron bars.  Finn had said he wanted to strengthen your door.”

Margaret stared into the fire.  “I’ve been so upset about Finn that I’d almost forgotten about the supplies,” she said.  “We were counting on that food to get us through the winter.”

“It’ll be alright,” said Arthur.  “We’ll figure something out.  Maybe we can cho down p some more trees.”

“I don’t want you tearing out your stitches,” Margaret said.

“The children can then,” said Arthur.

“Who will pull the cart down and up the mountain again?” asked Margaret.

“I could pull the cart,” said Carlyle.

“I could help,” said Alfred.

“You can’t go by yourselves,” said Arthur “You don’t know the way, and you wouldn’t know who to contact in the forest.”

“You could sit in the cart,” Carlyle said.  “We’ll pull you down.”

“You’re not old enough to go back to the forest yet,” Margaret said.

“Why not?” asked Carlyle.

“What do you mean back to the forest?” asked Catherine.

“It should be fine, Margaret,” said Arthur. “I’ve brought Alfred down to the forest with me lots of times.  He’s never had any trouble.”

“But what if the robbers stop you on the road again?” asked Margaret.

Arthur was silent for a bit.  Then he answered.  “When you travel on that mountain road, you accept the dangers,” he said.  “We’ve always understood that as long as we’ve lived here.  Robbers, wolves, bears, goblins, ogres, bugbears, you may encounter any of these creatures on the mountains at any time.”  Then after a pause, he added, “The robbers didn’t use to attack the mountain people, though.  They used to just go down and rob the forest people, and then hid out in the mountains.  They must be getting more brazen.”

“Or more desperate,” Margaret said.

“Hmmm,” Arthur nodded thoughtfully.  “Maybe.”

“At any rate, if they’re going to ambush us every time we try to bring a cart of supplies up the mountain, then we can’t get more supplies,” said Margaret.  “And if we can’t get more supplies before winter sets in…” her voice trailed off.

There was another moment of silence, and then Carlyle spoke up.  “I’ll go,” he said.  “I’m not afraid.”

“You can’t fight 20 of them,” said Arthur.  “And right now, you don’t even have a sword to fight with anymore.” 

There was another silence.  Finally Arthur said, “It won’t do any good to talk about it all night.  We should get some sleep.”

“Can we read from the book first?” asked Alfred.

Carlyle felt the need to gently correct his friend.  “It’s not the night for it, Alfred,” Carlyle said softly.

“No, it’s okay,” said Margaret.  “It will be good for us to get our minds off of everything for a bit.  It’ll help us sleep.  Catherine, you get the book down and read from it.  I’ll make some more herbal tea.”

Chapter 7: Arthur Returns Alone

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It was dawn.  Carlyle, Aflred and Margaret were still in bed, but Catherine couldn’t sleep.  She sat by the fire and tended to it quietly, stoking it, but trying to avoid making any noise that would awaken the others.

  While she stoked the fires, Catherine’s thoughts drifted.  It was now two days since Catherine had visited the Witches’ Coven.  The past two days had passed without incident.  Margaret had done the cooking and cleaning in the house, while the teenagers had gone out to meet their friends on the mountainside.  Catherine had not attempted to go off by herself again, and there had been no more quarrels between her and Carlyle. 

And yet, Catherine was still troubled.  She still had this feeling that an energy was growing inside of her.  It felt like an alien power, something that was not natural to her body.

Yesterday, she had been out with Alfred and Carlye and their friends, and she had felt it rise up inside her.  It had started gradually, but it had gotten bigger and bigger, until she had felt like she had this great energy inside of her that had to be released.  So she had decided to try the herb that her mother had given.  Discreetly, when the attention of the group had been distracted by one of the fights, she had brought the herb up to her mouth and had taken just the tiniest little nibble of it, and swallowed  It had made her feel immediately sick.  She ran over to the bushes to vomit and this, of course, had attracted everyone’s attention.  So much for being discreet.

“Catherine, are you okay?” Molly had asked.  

“I’m fine,” Catherine had managed to say rather weekly.  “I think it was something I ate.”

It had been embarrassing, no doubt about it, even though Catherine always tried to pretend that she didn’t care what the rest of the group thought of her.  

But the herb had also seemed to work.  The feeling inside of her had gone away.  It felt like she had killed the growing energy inside her.  It felt like she had had killed it with the poison, but it also felt like she had poisoned herself.  

Catherine continued stirring the fire.  The fire didn’t even need stirring at this point, but Catherine’s mind was elsewhere.  Her mind kept returning to the conversation she had had with the witch.  “If magic isn’t used,” the witch had said, “it will leak out in unexpected ways.”  That’s what it felt like was happening to her.  Something was trying to leak out of her.

Catherine had been watching her mother very closely the past couple of days, to try to see if there was anything in her mother’s behavior she had missed over the years--to see if there was any magic that might be leaking out of Margaret.  But she had not seen Margaret do anything that indicated any magic abilities.  Except… except that it was so strange that Margaret had known exactly what herb to use to kill the energy.  How did Margaret know these things if she wasn’t magical herself?

While Catherine was still deep in thought, contemplating all of these things, there was a loud thump at the door which startled her.  Her hands involuntarily jerked backwards.  

“It’s alright.  That’ll be father,” said Alfred. Catherine hadn’t realized that Alfred was also awake, but Alfred was wide awake and already scrambling out of bed.  “It’s been five days already,” he said.

The thump at the door was repeated.  “It’s me,” said the voice.  “Open up.”

Carlyle and Margaret were beginning to wake up now as well.  Carlyle was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stood up.  Margaret was sitting on the edge of her bed and putting on her boots.  Catherine undid the latch, and pulled open the door.  Arthur was standing in the doorway.  Finn was nowhere in sight.

There seemed to be something wrong with Arthur.  He looked paler than usual. 

“Where’s Margaret?” he asked.

“Father, are you alright?” Alfred asked.

“Margaret.” Arthur repeated

“I’m here,” Margaret said.  She was now out of bed and walking towards the door.  “What’s wrong?  Where’s Finn?”

Arthur did not reply immediately.  Catherine noticed for the first time that his shirt was covered in blood.

Margaret noticed the blood at the same time.  “Where’s Finn?” Margaret asked again, the tone of her voice was higher this time.

“I’m sorry, Margaret,” Arthur said

Margaret breathed in sharply, resulting in a gasping sound.  

Catherine stepped towards Arthur.  “What’s wrong?” she asked.  Somewhere inside of her, Catherine already knew what was wrong.  But she needed to hear Arthur say it in order for her brain to fully process it.

Arthur looked absolutely miserable. He looked at Margaret first, to see if Margaret was going to give him any signals.  But Margaret was still in shock, so Arthur looked back at Catherine.  “Catherine, your father is dead.  I’m so sorry.”

Carlyle was at the door now as well.  “Where is he?” Carlyle demanded.

“He’s dead,” Arthur repeated.

“Let me see him,” Carlyle said.

“He’s still on the mountain road,” said Arthur.  “I had to leave him by the cart.   I was wounded myself, and I was too weak to carry his body.”

Carlyle bolted out the door and started running down the mountain slope.

“Stop,” Arthur called.  “It’s not safe yet.  They’re still out there.”

Catherine ran after Carlyle, and lastly Alfred ran after them both.  All three ran down the mountainside.

“Wait!” Arthur called out again. But they did not listen.

Carlyle did not want to believe what Arthur had told them.  He hoped that Arthur was mistaken, and that his father was not really dead.  And that is why he ran as fast as he could.  He desperately wanted to find Finn still alive.

When you are running down a mountain slope, it isn’t hard to go fast.  The problem is that you can easily go too fast, lose your footing, and fall down on your face.  But for teenagers who have grown up on the mountain slopes, this seldom happens.  They learn at a young age how to handle the mountain slope--how to leap and spring, and land, and balance on your feet to keep from falling.  Carlyle ran with all the agility of one who had been raised on the mountains.  His feet glided down the mountain as he pushed himself to run faster and faster.  He leaped over rocks and fallen trees and any other obstacle on the slope without losing his stride.  And Catherine and Alfred were right behind him the whole way.

In no time at all, they had reached the mouth of the mountain trail.  They ran down the trail.  A huge tree had fallen over and was blocking their path.  Carlyle leaped over it without even pausing.  Catherine and Alfred did the same.

Various rock formations emerged from the mountain, and the trail twisted and turned as it winded its way around them.  But as Carlyle came around one of the corners, he saw it.

Carlyle’s heart sank.  They were too late.  The wolves were already circling the body of his father.  In the mountains, it never took long for a dead body to attract the scavenging animals.  And now, Carlyle wished he had stopped to take some weapons.  “Begone,” Carlyle shouted as he approached the wolves.  “You have no claim to that body.”

The wolves turned toward Carlyle, but it was obvious they had no intention of obeying him.  They snarled, and crouched as if preparing to pounce on Carlyle.  

Catherine now came around the corner.  She saw Carlyle, Finn’s body, and the wolves, and in an instant she knew what was happening.  In that moment, she had no time to process any emotions.  She simply had to act.  “Begone,” she yelled at the wolves.  “That body belongs to us.”  

At the sound of Catherine’s voice, the wolves immediately stopped growling. They stopped focusing on Carlyle, and looked over at Catherine.  They seemed surprised to see her.  “Begone, I say,” Catherine repeated.  And the wolves ran away.  Carlyle thought this was strange, but for the moment he did not ask any questions to Catherine.  His mind was too preoccupied with his father’s body.  

Carlyle knelt down beside the body.  Once he saw the body up close, there was no doubt that Finn was indeed dead.  The warmth had already left the body.  There was no pulse.  And there was a huge wound in the chest, where Finn had been stabbed.

Both Carlyle and Catherine were too shocked to speak.  Neither of them had ever contemplated the possibility that Finn could die. 

Of course, Finn was very old, and of course, they knew that the mountains were dangerous.  But they were young, and like all young people, they viewed the world through the illusion of permanency.  Finn had always been there, so it seemed that Finn would always be there.

Alfred, who was somewhat less emotionally affected by Finn’s death, found the presence of mind to speak first.  “The thieves took everything,” he said.  “All the supplies are gone from the cart.  But at least they left behind the cart.  We can use it to pull his body up the slope.”

The cart had been turned over and was lying on its side.  Carlyle and Alfred turned it over.  Carlyle was still numb with disbelief and didn’t speak.  

“Help me lift his body,” said Alfred.  “We need to put it in the cart.”

“Where’s his sword,” Catherine said.  “He needs his sword with him.”

“His sword is gone,” said Alfred.  “The thieves took it.  Of course.  They wouldn’t leave anything as valuable as a sword just laying around.”

Catherine and Carlyle both stopped moving.  They seemed to have difficulty absorbing this information.  “He used that sword to kill the ogre,” said Carlye.

“He used that sword to fight the werewolves,” said Catherine.  “That sword was his most prized possession.  It was his identity.”

“He doesn’t need it anymore,” Alfred said gently.  “We need to get him into the cart and get him back up the mountain before the wolves come back.”

“They won’t come back,” Catherine said quietly.  And once again, Alfred and Carlyle were too preoccupied with the dead body to wonder about what she meant.

Carlyle, Catherine and Alfred lifted Finn’s body up, and put it in the cart. Then they pulled the cart up the path.

Margaret met them before they got to the top of the mountain.  She had come down to find them.  She carried an axe with her as her weapon.  Her eyes were red.  “That was foolish of you to run off like that,” she said without emotion.  “But you’ve done good to recover his body.  It wouldn’t have done to let the wolves eat him.”

Together, they all got the cart back to the house.  They took out Finn’s body, brought it inside, and laid it on the table.

Margaret shook her head, and let out a small sob.  She covered her mouth with her hands, and then when she regained her composure, she said sadly, “For fifteen years we’ve lived in these cursed mountains, and we’ve fought off all manner of beasts and monsters.  If he had just lived for a few more years…”  Her voice trailed off.

“What killed him?” asked Carlyle.

“It was one of the robber gangs,” Arthur answered.  “They were waiting in ambush.  We tried to fight, but there were just too many of them.”

Arthur was grimacing in pain while he spoke, and Margaret suddenly remembered.  “We need to see to your wound,” she said.

“I’d appreciate it if you did,” said Arthur.

“Sit down on the bed,” Margaret commanded.  “Catherine, go get my thread and needle.  And boil some water.”  Margaret turned back to Arthur.  “Where are you hurt?” she asked.

“They stabbed me in my side,” Arthur answered.  “It doesn’t feel too deep, but…”

“I’ll look at it,” Margaret said.  Having a task to do seemed to rejuvenate Margaret.  She moved now with a sense of purpose.  Arthur obediently went towards the bed.  Margaret noticed Carlyle and Alfred standing idly by.  “You two, go and chop some wood,” she said.  “We’ll need a funeral pyre.”

Nobody got a burial in the mountains.  Much of the mountain slope was covered in rocks, and stones, and even for the parts that were covered in dirt, the dirt was often frozen by the cold weather.  And even if you could dig a proper grave, the freshly dead body wouldn’t stay in the ground for long before creatures dug it up and devoured it.  So the mountain folk burned their dead on wooden pyres.

Carlyle took the ax from the house, and went outside with Alfred.  They walked down the slope to one of the clumps of trees.  

Carlyle knelt down in front of the tree, and raised his hands up.  He remembered the words that Finn used to recite.  “Forgive me, for what I am about to do,” Carlyle called out to the tree.  “I must do this to survive.  If there are any spirits or other beings who have made this tree their home, tell me now in order that I may not harm you unknowingly.”  

“What are you doing?” asked Alfred.

“This was father’s way,” explained Carlyle.  “He always said this before he cut down any trees.  He wouldn’t have wanted me to cut down his funeral pyre without saying these words first.”

Alfred swallowed the rest of his questions, and let Carlyle continue.  “If there are any spirits or nymphs in this tree,” Carlyle continued, “I beg your forgiveness.  I declare that I am ignorant of any beings who live in this tree.”  Then, he stood up, and began to chop at the base of the tree.

Chapter 120: Catherine Joins the Quest

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After several days of walking, they got to the swamp lands.  

“I’ll put you down here,” Midor said to Jacob the frog, taking him out of his pocket and putting him in the water.  “You can swim around just as easily as I can carry you.  Careful though.  There are plenty of monsters in the water.”

“Well don’t put him down then,” said Aiden.  “Pick him up and help carry him.  Don’t leave him as bait for the monsters.”

“When the monsters attack,” said Midor, “They could swallow me whole just as easily as they could swallow Jacob here.  So I don’t think he would be any safer in my pocket.  In fact, it’s probably better for him to not be in my pocket, so that the monsters can’t devour both of us at once. This way, if the monsters get me, at least Jacob still has a chance to escape.  That, plus another pair of eyes in the water will help us.  Jacob can help alert us to what’s in the water.”

“I will strive to do my best,” said Jacob.

“I’ve explored the outer-reaches of this bog a little bit,” said Midor.  “But I’ve never gone deep into it before.  So as we get deep into the bog, we’ll be going into areas I have no direct knowledge of.”

They trudged through the swamp.  The muddy ground made a sucking sound as they pulled their feet up.

“I’ve just lost one of my boots,” Aefar exclaimed.

“We can wait for you to find it,” said Midor.

“I can’t find it,” said Aefar.  “It’s disappeared deep into the mud.”

“Let me help you find it,” said Henry.

“Yes, we should all help find it,” said Carlyle.  “We don’t want to be losing our footwear now.  We’ve got a lot of walking to do.”

“Yes,” said Midor.  “Although I’m not sure what use the boots are going to be through the mud.”

“You know,” said Carlyle thoughtfully, “I’ve never thought to ask before, but when you transform into a bat, what happens to your clothes.”

“This isn’t the time for stupid questions,” snapped Aefar.  “Can you help me find my boot?”

“What I mean is,” continued Carlyle, “is that when you transform into a bat, the clothes seem to transform with you.  Are the clothes like a part of you?  If you lose your boot--.”

“The Clothes are not a part of me, you idiot!” snapped Aefar.  “Clearly you don’t understand how magic works.”

“No, of course I don’t,” said Carlyle.  “But it occurs to me that if the clothes aren’t a part of you, then they must disappear every time you turn into a bat.  And if that’s the case, then they must be recreated every time you resume your human shape.  And if that’s the case, then maybe--.”

“Shut up you idiot!” screamed Aefar.  

“Hey now!” said Conn.  “Don’t talk to Carlyle that way.  He’s our friend.”

“Besides which,” said Brenna.  “We’ve already got your boot.  We pixies are quite good at finding things in the mud.”

The pixies were holding up the boot, and showed it to Aefar.  He snatched it from them angrily.

“Leaving aside the question of where your clothes go,” Midor said cautiously, “I do wonder if you’d be happier flying through this mud instead of walking through it.  If the mud sucked up your boots one time, they could likely do so again.”

Aefar didn’t respond, but flung his cape around him, and transformed into a bat.  

There was a bellowing sound off in the distance.  “That sounds like one of the ancient monsters,” Midor said.

“Well of course!” snapped Aefar.  “What else could it be?”

“Shhh!” Midor chastened them.  “If it doesn’t know we’re here, we won’t have to fight it.  Everyone get low.”  Midor immediately lay down in the mud.  Henry followed his example.

“I’m not getting into the mud!” snapped Aefar.

“Get high then!” Midor said in a loud whisper.

Aefar the bat and Carlyle the winged lion flew into the air.  The rest of them lay low.

There was another bellowing sound, this time much closer.

“It’s Rogbel!” said Midor.  “One of the flying monsters.  Carlyle!  Aefar! Get down!”

It was only a few seconds later that in the dim light they could see the outline of a monster flying through the sky on gigantic leathery wings.

Carlyle immediately dropped down to the mud.

Aefar was slightly slower, and the monster opened his jaws, and gulped down the bat as it flew by.

And then, the monster was gone before the rest had time to react.

“Did we just lose one of our companions?” asked Conn.

“He was a bit of a jerk anyway,” said Brenna.  “I can’t say I’m too sorry to see him go.”

“Well, he’s definitely been swallowed whole,” said Midor.  “But the question is, what does that mean to a vampire?  Vampire’s can usually only be killed by a stake through the heart, or so Aefar has always claimed.  So what happens when he’s swallowed whole by a monster?”

“Probably one of two things,” said Carlyle.  “Either he’ll be digested in the stomach, or else he’ll come out the other end.”

“Either way, I guess we can count him out of the rest of our adventure,”  said Midor.  “I’m really not sure what to think.  I suppose it’s for the best.  He could be difficult.”

“It is most assuredly for the best,” said Carlyle.  “He was Catherine’s creature, after all.”

“At any rate, he is no longer necessary,” said a voice.  “Catherine herself is here now.”

They all turned around when they saw the voice, and saw Catherine and Alfred approaching.  “We got a bit of a late start,” said Catherine.  “But we were able to catch up quickly.  After all, I do possess some remarkable abilities.”

“Catherine, what are you doing here?” asked Carlyle.

“Carlyle, my brother, you know it pains me to say this.  But I have thought everything over, and I’ve decided that you are correct.  Ambrosia is my old enemy, more so than she is yours.  She is mine to meet in combat, and she is mine to defeat.”

“So you have come to help us?” asked Midor.

“I have,” answered Catherine.  

“Great,” said Midor.

“I had a feeling you might change your mind on this,” said Carlyle.  “Your hatred of Ambrosia must be greater than your hatred of me.”

“Let’s not get carried away just yet,” said Catherine.  “There’s plenty of room in my heart to hate the both of you.  I shall never forgive you, Carlyle, for what you did to me.  No matter what happens.  But I have come to fight against Ambrosia.  It’s rather dark in here, don’t you think?  Shall we have a little illumination?” Catherine waved her wand, and a flame of light appeared at the top of it.

“Catherine, put that out!” said Midor.  His voice wasn’t quite a yell, but it was frantic.  “You’ll attract every monster in this place.”

“Good,” said Catherine.  “I’d prefer to just face them head on.  I don’t like to crawl around in the swamp like you are doing.”

“But some of these monsters are resistant to magic.  Some of them can 

Chapter 119: Catherine Gets Her Affairs in Order

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King Grinthal was very glad to be released from his bottle.  He did look slightly emaciated from his captivity.  (It was unclear how much Catherine had been feeding him when he was trapped in the glass bottle.)  

“So, King Grinthal,” said Catherine.  “I will no longer be needing your services, as it turns out.  I request that you take your army out of Castle Tauna.”

“At once, my Queen,” Grinthal answered.

“You and your army are, of course, still welcome in my forest, if you wish to stay.”

“We will be leaving the forest at once,” said Grinthal.

“A pity,” said Catherine.  “I had been looking forward to being neighbors.   Where is your army going, Grinthal?”

“Back into the mountains,” Grinthal replied.

“Well, at least I know where to find you,” said Catherine.  “Take care, Grinthal.”

And with that, Grinthal scattered out of the throne room.

Catherine turned to Vivian.  “Well, Vivian, with both me and your father in the other realm, you are next in line to inherit the throne.  You  will rule in my absence as regent.”

“I do not wish to undermine your rule,” Vivian responded.

“You will not.  I am appointing you regent in my stead.  Protect the castle while I am gone.  There is still a possibility that the monsters could arise out of the ground while we are gone.”

“I will be on my guard,” said Vivian.

“Very well then.  Alfred, are you ready?”

“I am, Catherine.”

“Let us go,” said Catherine.

Chapter 118: Return to the Mountains

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“Over there,” said Alfred.  “That’s the place.”

Vivian gently landed the table down on the mountainside.  “So this is where you and my father grew up,” she said.

“It is,” said Alfred.

“Have you been back since then?” asked Vivian.

“I’ve never been back since we left,” said Alfred.  “Of course, the same has not been true for Catherine.”

“Yes, this is where my father sent you to exile, isn’t it?” said Vivian.

“This is the place,” said Catherine.

“There’s a lot fewer trees than I remember,” said Alfred.

“The woodsmen have been cutting them down,” said Catherine.

“I wonder if my old house is still around here,” Alfred mused.

“Where are the witches?” asked Vivian.

“If I remember, they’re in the cave over that hill,” said Alfred.  “Now, Vivian, I should warn you that you have to be on your guard up here in the mountains.  There’s always danger everywhere.”

“It’s not as bad as it used to be,” said Catherine.  “We did a good job of making it safe.”

“Yes, that’s true,” said Alfred.

They walked over the hill to the witch’s cave.  Catherine, although her arms were still bound, walked with them.

There was a witch standing by the cave when they arrived.  “Hello Catherine.  Welcome back,” said the witch, smiling.

Catherine simply scowled.

The witch looked at Alfred.  “Do I know you?” she asked.

“I grew up in these mountains,” Alfred said.

“Ah, yes.  I thought you looked familiar.”  The witch turned to Vivian.  “And who is this?” she asked.

“This is Catherine’s niece,” said Alfred.

“Ah, another member of the cursed family.  Does she have the magical powers?” 

“I do,” said Vivian.

“Yes, I thought I saw you levitating in here on the table.  Well, what do you want?”

“The magic,” said Alfred.  “It’s destroyed Catherine’s soul.  She has no compassion left.  No humanity.”

“Yes,” said the witch.  “That is the price that you pay for using magic.”

“Is there no cure?” asked Alfred.  “Is there no way to bring her back to the woman she once was?”

“There is,” said the witch.  “She has to give up magic completely.”

Catherine laughed when she heard this.  “Give up magic?  I couldn’t give it up if I wanted to.  I never wanted it in the first place, but I was born with it.  You remember, Alfred.”

“All to well,” said Alfred.  “I still have the scars on my arms to prove it.”

“There is a way to purge yourself of magic,” said the witch.  “You have to go to the middle of the sacred lake, in the northern part of the forest.  The nymphs who live in that lake can wash the magic away from you in the sacred waters, if you allow them to.”

“And will it restore Catherine to what she used to be?” asked Alfred.

“The madness will wash away,” said the witch.  “And she will be restored as she was before the magic destroyed her.  But she has to do it willingly.  And she is so far gone with her lust for power that I doubt she would ever do it willingly.”

“Catherine, listen to me,” said Alfred.  “I love you.  You know that.  I love you in spite of everything.  I need you to come back to me.  Just heal yourself--get rid of all your evil magic, and become my darling once more.”

Tears rolled down Catherine’s face.  

“Please, Aunt Catherine,” pleaded Vivian.  “You used to be my favorite Aunt when I was young.  You can go back to being that Aunt again.”

Catherine took a deep breath.  “I can’t,” she said.  “I can’t do it until I’ve defeated Ambrosia.”

It took Vivian and Alfred a moment to process what she was saying.  “Do you mean,” asked Alfred at last, “that you are going to help your brother Carlyle?”

“I mean,” said Catherine, “that I am going to defeat Ambrosia.  If Carlyle happens to be there as well, then perhaps he can help me.”

“I’m going with you,” said Alfred.

“Oh, Alfred,” Catherine laughed.  “What good are you in a magic battle?”

“I fought Ambrosia with you the first time,” said Alfred.  “I can fight her again the second time.  I’ve always been by your side in all your battles.  You know that.”

“Very well,” said Catherine.

“Let me come as well,” said Vivian.  “I’m strong with magic.  Stronger even than you. You said it yourself.  With two magic users attacking her at once, Ambrosia doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Ambrosia’s not your fight, Vivian,” said Catherine, with a smile.  “She belongs to the older generation.  But even more importantly than that, I need you to stay behind and guard Castle Tauna.  What if one of the monsters were to get out through the portal while we were battling Ambrosia?”

“She’s right, Vivian,” said Alfred.  “You have family to protect in that castle.”

“You’re right,” said Vivian.  “So I do.  Very well.  I’ll stay behind.  But Catherine, I have one favor to ask.  Can you remove all the goblins from the castle before you go to the land of the monsters?”

“Yes, of course,” said Catherine.  “King Grinthal.  I almost forgot about him.  He is still imprisoned in the bottle.”

“What’s this?” said Alfred.

“I’ll explain everything when we get back,” said Catherine.

Chapter 117: Vivian and Alfred Attempt to Negotiate With Catherine

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When Catherine woke up, she was tied up and seated on a chair.  Alfred and Vivian were both there.  The other family members have been removed.

Catherine’s mouth was gagged, so she could only move her eyes to see both of them.

“Catherine, we’re sorry.  There was no other way,” said Vivian.

“Catherine, we don’t want to keep you tied up like this,” said Alfred.  “We wish we could release you.  But we can’t release you if you are going to harm the people in this castle.”

“If only you would promise not to hurt my family,” said Vivian.  “Then maybe we could release you. But…”  Vivian suddenly stopped speaking.  She turned to Alfred.  “If there was a magically binding oath, we could get Catherine to take it.”

“Possibly,” said Alfred.  “If there was such an oath.”

“Aunt Catherine,” said Vivian, “Would you be willing to swear an oath in exchange for being set free?  Blink once for yes, and twice for no.”

Catherine blinked no.

“Catherine, be reasonable,” said Alfred.  “We want to set you free.  We don’t enjoy keeping you like this.”

“We’re not going to ask you to give up your throne,” said Vivian.  “This isn’t like last time when my father deposed you.  You can keep your throne.  You just have to swear not to harm our family.”

Catherine thought, then blinked yes.

“Now, we need to check and see if there is an oath.”

“We need to check the library,” said Alfred.  “That’s where Catherine herself learned most of her magic.”

“I wish we could just ask her,” said Vivian.

“It’s too dangerous,” said Alfred.  “If we were to loosen her gag, she could curse us with the magic just as well as help us.”

“Yes, you’re right, of course,” said Vivian.  “Of course, all spells require hand gestures as well, and we have her hands tied up. Although she can still wiggle her fingers. There are some spells that she could perform just with her fingertips, but not very many. I don’t think she could do any major spells with just her fingers free.”  Vivian thought some more.  “I suppose,” she said, “that I could use one of the immobilizing spells to freeze up her hands and fingers.  Then it would probably be safe to ungag her.”

“You know more about this stuff than I do,” said Alfred.  “But be careful.  If we mess this up and she gets loose, we’ll not going to have a second chance.”

“I think I know what I’m doing,” said Vivian.  “Forgive me Aunt Catherine.”  Vivian then chanted the spell, and froze up Catherine’s hands.  Then, she took off the gag.

Catherine glared at them even after the gag was removed.

Alfred spoke first.  “Catherine, please find it in your heart to forgive us.  We don’t want to harm you.  We simply wish to protect everyone from you.”  

“If everyone would simply obey me, we would have no problem,” said Catherine.  “I am the rightful queen of this castle.”

“What’s happened to you?” said Alfred.  “You never used to be this unreasonable.  Has the magic really eroded your mind that much?  Is there no way to cure you, and bring you back to the way you were before?”

“I do not wish to be brought back to the way I was before,” Catherine responded.

Alfred looked at Vivian.  “I don’t know the answer to that,” answered Vivian.  “I am still  new to all this magic myself.”

“Who would know, then?” Alfred asked.  And then he seemed to have found the answer.  “The witches!” he exclaimed.  “The witches up on the mountain.”

“Do you mean the mountain top that you and my father grew up on?” asked Vivian.

“Yes,” said Alfred.  “It is many days’ journey from here.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Vivian.  “I can fly us there with the magic spells.”

“I’m not sure if they will be willing to help us,” Alfred said.  “But it’s worth a try.”

“What shall we do with Catherine, then?  Shall we leave her here to be guarded in this castle?”

“We should get rid of all the goblins first,” said Alfred.  “Catherine still has too many 

helpers in this castle.  Could we take her with us?”

Vivian thought for a minute.  “I think I can,” she said.  “I can only work one spell at a time.  But I should be able to levitate something.  If there is some sort of rock or other surface that we could all stand on, then I could levitate that.”

“Well done,” said Catherine bitterly.  “I see you figured it out without my assistance.”

“Okay,” said Alfred.  “Then what kind of surface should we stand on?”

“Perhaps we can borrow one of the kitchen tables,” said Vivian.