Chapter 2

In my smaller size, I felt better. Selby still kept a hand on me as he guided us into the tree trunk, seeking the dark. Light crept across the sky. Songbirds stirred overhead and began to sing. Inside the tree, Quiller grumbled about not being comfortable. He stomped away to drag a fallen leaf inside. Selby told him not to bother, as day-break was close. They bickered over the leaf, and eventually Selby helped Quiller drag it inside the trunk.

Quiller gathered moss from the ground to make a nest. When his back was turned, Selby leapt into the leaf bed, placing his hands behind his head as he lay back with a chuckle. Quiller was annoyed and began to change his form into a squawking bird, until Selby put a holding spell on him. Quiller made a choked sound and froze still. I rolled my eyes.

Selby and Quiller were part of the eldest three. Selby was second eldest, which made him stronger than Quiller, who was third eldest. While they were distracted fighting, I tried to crawl onto the leaf. Selby noticed and booted me away.

“What was that for?” I complained.

“I’m still annoyed with you.” Selby pointed a finger at me. I was wary of his magic, so I didn’t argue. With his other hand, Selby kept a vice-like spell on Quiller, holding him prisoner. He flicked his wrist back and forth, which made Quiller’s own hands move against his will to slap himself in the face. Quiller thrashed and cursed while Selby chuckled. Older brothers were such bullies.

When they tired of their fight (with Selby winning, of course, and making Quiller recite several times how wonderful he was) we all settled down to sleep. The sun was starting to rise outside, and we felt our powers fading. With the last of my breath, I asked, “Sel, what happened to me? I can’t remember.”

“You fool,” Quiller said. “We had to rescue you from that witch.”

“Warlock,” Selby corrected, with a yawn. “You have to call the male ones warlocks now.”

“By whose law?”

Selby shifted on his side, already falling asleep. “Mm, the elves said.”

“Warlock?” I yawned, as I too, drifted.

* * * *

There’s a warlock in the woods. In my dreams, I remembered. Garnet had whispered in my ear about a warlock living on the edge of the woods.

“We’re not allowed to go that far,” I whispered back.

Garnet’s crimson eyes shone with mischief. “I won’t tell if you don’t, Wulf.”

At dusk, we travelled through the forest, first as birds, then as foxes. We were still inexperienced, and shouldn’t have been out so far on our own. When we got excited our animal forms lost their shape around the edges; our foxes became darker, sleeker animals, with longer snouts and more teeth. Our paws grew bigger, our claws sharper. We wouldn’t have passed for foxes, but it was hard to stay in control when we were this excited.

On the edge of a stream, we stopped, then crawled along on our bellies in the undergrowth. There was a human in the forest. A man. He stooped low, picking at a patch of nettles, tucking them into a small basket. He held a torch in one hand, but it wasn’t lit with flame. This torch held only a pale rock which glowed in the dark, commanded by some kind of magic.

“That’s the warlock,” Garnet hissed in my ear.

I let off a bark. The warlock looked up, holding his torch aloft. He was swaddled in a cloak and hood. We couldn’t see his face, but assumed our presence spooked him. Hidden, we chuckled softly. From our fox snouts, our laughter came as scoffing barks.

The warlock chose to ignore us, but he knew we were there. We ran around him in large circles, staying hidden in the undergrowth, and called to each other. He stood up sharply, trying to see where we were. We barked in amusement, thinking ourselves very clever. The warlock raised his hand. With a quick gesture and an uttered word, he cast a spell that took us by surprise. I felt as though I’d been knocked backwards with a punch, and lay dazed on the ground. Garnet too, lay beside me. We had reverted back to our original forms; small goblins with clawed hands and pointed features. Thoroughly caught off guard, we scuttled away through the undergrowth. The warlock laughed.

“How dare he!” Garnet was incensed as we dusted ourselves off. “Who does he think he is?”

“Let’s teach him a lesson,” I suggested.

So we began a campaign against the warlock. Once we knew the places he visited, we got there before him and poisoned the plants. With curse words and tongue licks, we dried the plants from the roots up, rendering them useless. Then we scrambled away, cackling, imagining how cross the warlock would be. We changed into magpies, and sat in the tree branches above to watch.