Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 (8 page)

Langolerintha.

Something tickled his face. He awoke slowly and he saw, as his eyes opened fully, that he was lying in long grass. He stood up and saw Jennifer approaching. She looked different, for she was not as he remembered her, she was more mature, a young girl no longer, she was now approaching womanhood.

He looked at her clothing; she wore a purple gown of shimmering material that enhanced her beauty and added lustre to her hair that hung down like a golden bronze cloak behind her. He glanced down at his own clothing and saw he was dressed in something similar, but of a darker hue that shone silver in the sunlight. Her voice rang out, sounding like a long-forgotten song to his ears, “Hello, Jason, my love, how are you?”

She floated over the grassy surface towards him and he touched her outstretched hand, “I slept well, thank you.” He gazed about him; they were standing by a stream that flowed out of a wood and across a sea of green. “Where are we?” he asked.

“Langolerintha,” she told him. “The land of the elves, look.”

She pointed to a snow white animal, a horse with cloven hooves and a single horn as it left the
wooded area. His chin dropped
“A unicorn!”

The unicorn turned to him and he heard its voice inside his head,
“Welcome to Langolerintha, Silvermoon,”
and trotted on, followed by half-a-dozen more of its kind on which a male or female elf, dressed in fine gowns, was seated.

He looked to Jennifer, her blues eyes twinkled. He pulled her to him and slipped his arms around her waist. The scent of lavender filled his senses as her lips parted in expectation and his mouth moved closer to hers…

Someone was knocking on his door, he sat up in his armchair and his book fell to the floor with a slap. He heard a voice and he recognised John’s tones as he called out, “Lights out, Jason, time for bed.”

He rose up slowly, the vision of Jennifer still fresh in his mind. He undressed and pulled on his pyjamas, puzzled by the dream and cursing John in his mind for waking him just as he was about to-.

He lay down and pulled the covers over him. As he recalled the dream he wondered what she was doing right now, was she dreaming of him or had she forgotten him by now.

Thieves.

Jennifer woke with a start. She had heard his thoughts in her sleep. She knew his mind was on her with every free, waking moment. She had dreamed of them running away together to the fabled
land
of
Langolerintha
. She dreamed of them swimming in one of the enchanted pools beneath a waterfall in a shaded glade, where pixies filled the air with their buzzing as they flew by gathering nectar.

Now she sensed something else, something which had woken her. She felt uneasy, then she heard her father’s light tread on the landing, and feeling once again secure, she fell into a deep sleep.

Reega.

The huge grey-skinned beast lumbered behind her like a faithful dog, but this beast was nothing like man’s best friend.

While his heavy-muscled mistress was clad in thick animal furs from head to foot, over her leather armour, he was naked except for a loin cloth. His four metre-high, brawny structure waddled from side to side on his short
- by comparison to a human’s -
but immensely thick legs, while his fingers trailed through the snow, slightly in front of him, as if feeling the way.

Their journey, by day and by night, with her riding on his shoulders, had taken them four whole days, and now they neared their goal.

Princess Reega, eldest daughter of the goblin King Gorgob, made her way through the woods, avoiding the brambles and frozen deadwood on her way to the river. She stopped near to the edge and slipped and cursed as the beast, named Burr, one of the many cave trolls under her sway, bumped into her. “Damn you, you fool, be careful, I’m not one of your playmates. Now keep quiet and listen.”

She regained her balance on the slippery slope and sniffed the air, breathing deep. Her exhaled breath formed a cloud before her as she looked up at the hunter’s moon turning night into a ghostly day as the clouds parted. It had snowed on and off for the past week and now, at the crucial moment, nature decided to scorn her.

Reega looked across the frozen river at the house, the home of bank director Townsend, his wife and his daughter. The white-painted wooden building was practically invisible in the wintry landscape, save for the light shining from its windows. Then she saw the vast shadow moving towards them, she looked up at the bank of clouds hiding Luna and darkening the landscape, and she praised the weather gods. She turned to her companion and beckoned. “Follow me,” and she walked onto the ice.

Burr hopped down after her from the bank and onto the icy surface, landing rather heavily. The ice cracked sharply like a pistol-shot under his weight. The sound startled her and caused her to lose her balance and slip, so that she landed with a painful thud onto her broad backside. “You imbecile,” she cursed, “Be more careful.”

The grin on the creatures face dwindled as he realised his mistress’s comical fall wasn’t for his benefit and was more or less his fault. He mumbled something incoherent as he pulled her to her feet and she said, “Apology accepted, now move it, pea-brain.”

They made their way across the frozen ford. As they reached the opposite bank, Burr lifted his mistress easily, despite her weight, onto his shoulders and ploughed
easily
through the deep snow towards the Townsend house.

He set his mistress down as they stood before a solid oak door. Reega indicated it with a flick of her head and Burr head-butted the door. His skull, almost solid bone that surrounded a brain the size of a plum, could take an enormous amount of punishment. The whole house shook as his forehead made contact, but the door didn’t budge. Burr tried again, and still the door stood strong. He gave a third butt and the door rattled in its frame, and then a voice rang out behind them.

“What do you think you are you doin
g
-! Reega! I thought as much.”

She turned to the sound, snarling, baring her fangs. There he stood, her enemy, banker Townsend, known to her as the elf Seawan. He faced them wearing a white shroud, his bow fully drawn and pointing at them. She moved quickly behind Burr just in time as an arrow thudded into the woodwork behind her. She shouted, “Kill him, Burr, my beautiful troll.”

Burr, despite his enormous size, moved quickly towards the bowman. He received three arrows in his broad chest for his trouble before he reached him, each shaft going deeper than the one before. He swatted Seawan as one would swat at a house fly, and the elf flew to one side and landed in a heap, his bow broken, his arrows scattered about him in the snow.

Reega called out to him, “Burr, ram the door, run at it, use your shoulder too, quickly now.”

Burr pulled out the shafts embedded in his chest. He swayed on his feet and looked at them, frowning, then threw them to one side. He turned towards the house and after taking several deep breaths, ran full tilt into the door, ramming it with his head and his right shoulder.

The oak door, its hinges weakened by the head butts, crashed down to the floor. Burr rolled over and landed in a sitting position, with his head lolling from side to side.

In the hallway, two female figures
proceeded to descend
the long stairway,
they were
Jennifer and her mother.

Reega ran past Burr as he struggled to his feet and shouted, “Kill them too,” and ran on towards the cellar door beneath the stairway.

Burr rose to his feet and Jennifer’s mother called out
from the stairway
, “Reega, where is my husband?

Reega looked up at the two
figures in their filmy night clothes. Her ugly goblin face creased in a grin. “Dead, my dear Silvern, my troll crushed his skull and you are next.” She looked at Burr as he ambled towards the stairway, then she shouldered the cellar door open easily and went inside.

Jennifer screamed as Burr took the first step. The stairway creaked as he took the next, and he held on to the banister to steady himse
lf. Jennifer and her mother back up the stairs to the landing
and into their rooms.

Burr turned, swaying drunkenly on the bottom steps as Reega appeared from the cellar holding a stone jar. “I have it, I have Chanteline!”

Just then the steps gave way as Burr’s great weight proved too much for wooden structure. Reega hurried towards the doorway, she called out, “Forget them, I have what I came for,” and ran over the fallen door and out of the building.

Burr extricated himself from the debris, and ambled, albeit somewhat erratically, after his mistress.

He stumbled as two arrows thudded into his back, he stopped and turned around, and two more arrows pierced his chest, now covered in black blood.

He moaned softly and grunted as two more shafts found their mark. He looked up at the head of the stairway, there stood the two female elves, their long bows pointing down at him, he raised his head and
yowled like a cat, the yowl changed into a bubbly gurgle as two arrows pierced his fleshy throat, going deep, almost passing through, leaving just the fletches visible. The troll swayed on his feet, tottered backwards a little,
and
the
n
turned, seeking his mistress and stumbled out through the doorway.

Silvern said, as they climbed down the battered stairway, “Curse the devil goblins and their trolls, what does it take to kill those monstrous things?”

Jennifer said, “Sunlight, sunlight kills them, mother, it kills them instantly.”

“I know that my dear. Come, we must stop her, she has the rune stone.”

They reached the hallway and ran out into the night, over the snow. They spotted Seawan as he struggled to a sitting position, one arm hanging limp. Jennifer called out, “Father, you live, the goblin devil-witch told us you were dead.”

He looked up at them. “Takes more than a troll swipe to undo me, though I think my arm is broken.”

Silvern helped him to his feet. “Take him inside, set his arm, quickly. I must stop them, they have the rune stone.”

The pair watched as she ran over the snowy surface, following the troll’s trail as he followed his mistress.

She found him lying on the ice at the ford, a still mountain of blood-streaked flesh, and walked past him. She saw Reega’s tracks leading into the black depths of the woods and wondered if she had come alone. Fearing an ambush, or booby-traps, the usual method of fighting preferred by goblins, she turned back, her features drawn.
“How am I going to tell them, they will be heartbroken?”
She paused in her thoughts, then spoke out loud, “I must go to Helga, and wake her; it seems her time is come.”

Chapter seven.

Helga.

She returned to the house and entered over the broken door. She surveyed the damaged stairway, and after stepping over the mess Burr had made
,
she ran up the stairs. She found her husband and daughter in the main bedroom. Jennifer knelt before him as he sat on a low divan. Seawan had his arm in a splint already. She approached them, her eyes downcast and voiced her feelings.

“We have failed in our duty, despite the fact that someone has betrayed us. The whereabouts of the rune stone and its protectors have been kept secret for years”

“We must call the others to arms and pursue Reega.”

“No, we cannot, it is our responsibility. We must seek advice from
Helga;
she will guide us and advise us.”

Seawan said, “You’re right, we can’t tell the others, we must retrieve the rune stone ourselves, it’s our duty, and yes, you should wake Helga, it’s almost her time, the rejuvenation period has past, and there’s not much point in her sleeping now that the stone is gone.”