Craig Shaw Gardner Wuntvor 02 An Excess Of Enchantments

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

whipping out your sword--that's me--for one thing or another. It
always ends in blood." The sword shivered in the lad's hand. "Or
worse than blood."
"Worse than blood?" the lad asked, intrigued despite his confusion.
145
"Ichor," the sword explained miserably. "Hair oil. Unicom saliva."
Wuntvor nodded. He was beginning to recall some of those incidents as
well. He closed his eyes, trying to will the last remnants of the
spell away.
"Once upon--" He clamped his mouth shut. Those words had come to his
lips unbidden.
"Mother Duck's controlling spell," the sword explained. "You must
refrain from saying those words at all cost, or you will be under her
power forever. But come. Let us try to free the others."
Wuntvor looked to the rest of those in the clearing, all wandering
about, mumbling over and over those four fateful words.
"Indeed," the lad asked his weapon as they approached the others, "if
this woman's sorcery is so powerful, how did you manage to escape?"
"By my very definition," the sword patiently explained. "I'm a
magical device. Spells bounce right off my shiny blade."
"Indeed," the lad responded. Why did that explanation sound so
familiar?
"Quickly, now," the sword cautioned, "we have to awaken the others
and flee. I want to be done with this as soon as possible, before
any--" The sword paused, as if it found it difficult to say the next
word, "--bloodshed begins."
"Very well," Wuntvor agreed. But before he could take a dozen paces,
he heard a strange, high-pitched laugh emanating from the edge of the
nearby forest.
"Hee, hee, hee! Hello, my dearies," the strange voice continued.
"I've come with a present for Wuntvor."
The others in the clearing all turned toward the voice.
"Doom?" said one particularly large fellow.
"Buckles and laces!" exclaimed one who was particularly short.
"Yes," the old lady continued as she stepped into their midst. "Hee,
hee, hee! I've brought a special basket of apples for my special
Eternal Apprentice."
"It's Mother Duck!" the sword whispered.
The old woman smiled as she caught Wuntvor's eye. The lad took a step
away, not knowing what to expect.
146
"Now, now," the woman said reassuringly. "There's no reason to be
afraid. I've just brought you all some food."
She pulled back her dark shawl to reveal a basket of apples she had
hung on one of her arms. They were unlike any apples Wuntvor had ever
seen. In fact, they glowed bright green in the darkness.
"Don't they look delicious?" Mother Duck asked encouragingly. "So
plump, so crisp, so sweet. Hee, nee, nee! Wouldn't you like to be
biting into one right now?"
Wuntvor swallowed and backed away again. He wasn't sure he wanted to
eat any fruit that contained its own light source.
A wolf in a green cap ran up to the old woman. "Hey," the beast said,
"if I can't eat anything else, at least one of these will stave off
my hunger." He snatched a piece of fruit from the basket.
"How dare you!" Mother Duck began. Wuntvor flinched at her anger.
Glancing apologetically at the lad, she spoke to the wolf in more
soothing tones. "Oh, I suppose it's all right. You must be hungry.
I've neglected to put any meals in any of today's fairy tales,
haven't I? We just have to make sure that Wuntvor gets one." She
waved the basket in the lad's direction. "Not that there's anything
special about these apples. No, no, except that they are especially
delicious! Hee, hee, hee!"
"Doom." The large fellow lumbered over to the basket and extracted an
apple. "I am famished."
"Buckles and laces!" The very small fellow jumped into the basket,
deftly pushing a piece of fruit over the rim. "Brownies need to
maintain their strength!" He leapt after the falling apple.
Mother Duck stopped short. In the strange, green light of the apples,
she looked very upset.
"If another of you touches my apples, I will smite--" She paused when
she noticed that Wuntvor was rapidly backing away once again.
"Oh, dear," she said after a moment, her voice much kinder. "Hee,
hee, hee! I'm afraid I'm unnecessarily cross. Mother Duck shouldn't
stay up so late. It's after her bedtime!" She once again pushed the
basket toward Wuntvor. "There's more than enough fruit to go around.
But everyone should wait until
147
Wuntvor gets an apple of his own. It's only polite."
The wolf took a noisy bite from his apple.
"Ummmm!" he exclaimed. "That's delici--"
He fell on his face before he could finish the sentence and began to
snore loudly.
"Speaking of inappropriate manners!" Mother Duck exclaimed, pointing
disdainfully at the sleeping beast. "He eats before everyone is
served, and then immediately takes a nap! The nerve of some
creatures! He'll never get to be in any more of my fairy tales, let
me tell you!"
She took another step toward Wuntvor. A fair damsel sneaked up behind
her and lifted an apple from the basket.
"Hee, hee, hee! Now, my dear, sweet boy. I've brought these apples
just for you. I know you've been stubborn, not wanting to say certain
words. But Mother Duck isn't angry. Oh, no. Hee, hee, hee. And to
show you how pleased I am with you, I just want you to take one tiny
little bite out of one tiny little apple. Mother Duck will feel so
much better if you do."
"In-indeed," Wuntvor managed, "I do not wish to."
The old woman stood there for a moment, staring without expression at
the youngster. A shortish fellow hidden within a huge robe reached
out and took a piece of fruit.
"You do not wish to?" she asked at last, the sweetness in her voice
evaporating with every word. "You are in Mother Duck's kingdom, and
you do not wish to?" She laughed again, but it had a darker sound
than before. "You come here, unannounced, unasked for, because of
some stupid quest far beneath my notice. And now you refuse to obey
my wishes? Oh, I'll grant you that you've brought along some [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Archiwum