Conundrum, and pesky wolves no
longer be so bothersome, ye visit with Mariat all the time and learn the ways of we
Westhillers."
"You've got yourself a deal." Carole put the broom back against the wall and followed
Mariat out of the room.
Downstairs, preparations for the wolf's arrival seemed complete. The cats had obviously
taken their job seriously, because the entranceway reeked even more than before, if that were
possible. All the food had been removed from the main hall to a side room, though the witches
were still coming and going, talking, laughing and eating as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Carole suddenly realized that if events had been occurring this way for the past nine years, such
preparations would now seem very routine indeed. She tried to follow the witches' lead, and to
relax and enjoy herself as much as possible, though the stronger smell of cat pee in the air
effectively squashed any remaining appetite.
Brutus sounded the alarm with a low throaty growl. It was picked up and amplified by
the other cats.
"That be warning plenty enough," Herling told them. "We be quiet now, so as not to rile
the beast excessively. Come, Sylphwood, ye get to the middle of we witches. Mariat ye stand
next to Sylphwood."
The rest of the witches and cats moved to form two large circles around the girls, cats on
the outside and witches on the inside.
"Westhill Witches," Head witch Herling spoke softly, "Sylphwood multitasker be our
great hope for ending Conundrum, and saving our realm from such as the last years has brung us.
Shield her with yer magic and, if needs be, with yer blood."
She turned to the girls. "Mariat, be there need, take Sylphwood to flight by yer broom.
No lollygagging about neither."
Mariat's reply was cut off by a bloodcurdling howl that sent shivers screaming up
Carole's spine.
"'Tis close," Mariat whispered. "Not much by way of warning with this beast, neither.
Tis unusual, that."
Moments later the howl came again, this time directly outside the door. It was followed
within a heartbeat by a second howl from the back of the building. The witches shifted about
uneasily.
"That be real strange," Mariat said in a near whisper. "Northern wolf always travels
alone."
"Be ye ready, girl!" Herling warned in a raspy whisper. Cats and witches began chanting
softly.
Carole could feel the prickly power rising in the hall. This time it felt as though the
energy was being directed around her instead of at her. She held her breath.
The werewolf gave no more warning. It smashed through a window and came crashing
down in a howling flurry of twisting fur and gnashing teeth. But before it touched the floor, it
exploded in a puff of black smoke.
Carole got a much better view of the second werewolf, which dropped through the
window on the heels of the first, before the coven could charge up a second spell. It landed
behind the witches.
With an enraged roar, it leapt directly for her throat.
"Run!" Mariat screamed, trying to step between Carole and the wolf.
Carole wasn't about to lose her new found friend. She dove hard at Mariat's waist,
tackling the girl heavily to the floor. The wolf flew over them, its jaws, snapping on thin air,
narrowly missing Carole's neck. It crashed headfirst into a table, momentarily stunning
itself.
"Now we run." Carole yelled as she ran up the stairs as fast as she could.
Behind her, pandemonium reigned as witches screamed, cats screeched and the beast
roared back to life. She stole a quick look behind to make sure Mariat was still with her. What
she saw chilled her blood. Instead of the witchling, the werewolf was bounding after her.
She dashed into the broom room, flinging the door shut just as the wolf slammed against
it with a howl of frustration. Knowing the door wouldn't hold, she triggered the pulley rope. As
the rock toppled, a dark shape came at her from the shadows.
She screamed and grabbed up the nearest broom. Before she could swing the makeshift
weapon,
longer be so bothersome, ye visit with Mariat all the time and learn the ways of we
Westhillers."
"You've got yourself a deal." Carole put the broom back against the wall and followed
Mariat out of the room.
Downstairs, preparations for the wolf's arrival seemed complete. The cats had obviously
taken their job seriously, because the entranceway reeked even more than before, if that were
possible. All the food had been removed from the main hall to a side room, though the witches
were still coming and going, talking, laughing and eating as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Carole suddenly realized that if events had been occurring this way for the past nine years, such
preparations would now seem very routine indeed. She tried to follow the witches' lead, and to
relax and enjoy herself as much as possible, though the stronger smell of cat pee in the air
effectively squashed any remaining appetite.
Brutus sounded the alarm with a low throaty growl. It was picked up and amplified by
the other cats.
"That be warning plenty enough," Herling told them. "We be quiet now, so as not to rile
the beast excessively. Come, Sylphwood, ye get to the middle of we witches. Mariat ye stand
next to Sylphwood."
The rest of the witches and cats moved to form two large circles around the girls, cats on
the outside and witches on the inside.
"Westhill Witches," Head witch Herling spoke softly, "Sylphwood multitasker be our
great hope for ending Conundrum, and saving our realm from such as the last years has brung us.
Shield her with yer magic and, if needs be, with yer blood."
She turned to the girls. "Mariat, be there need, take Sylphwood to flight by yer broom.
No lollygagging about neither."
Mariat's reply was cut off by a bloodcurdling howl that sent shivers screaming up
Carole's spine.
"'Tis close," Mariat whispered. "Not much by way of warning with this beast, neither.
Tis unusual, that."
Moments later the howl came again, this time directly outside the door. It was followed
within a heartbeat by a second howl from the back of the building. The witches shifted about
uneasily.
"That be real strange," Mariat said in a near whisper. "Northern wolf always travels
alone."
"Be ye ready, girl!" Herling warned in a raspy whisper. Cats and witches began chanting
softly.
Carole could feel the prickly power rising in the hall. This time it felt as though the
energy was being directed around her instead of at her. She held her breath.
The werewolf gave no more warning. It smashed through a window and came crashing
down in a howling flurry of twisting fur and gnashing teeth. But before it touched the floor, it
exploded in a puff of black smoke.
Carole got a much better view of the second werewolf, which dropped through the
window on the heels of the first, before the coven could charge up a second spell. It landed
behind the witches.
With an enraged roar, it leapt directly for her throat.
"Run!" Mariat screamed, trying to step between Carole and the wolf.
Carole wasn't about to lose her new found friend. She dove hard at Mariat's waist,
tackling the girl heavily to the floor. The wolf flew over them, its jaws, snapping on thin air,
narrowly missing Carole's neck. It crashed headfirst into a table, momentarily stunning
itself.
"Now we run." Carole yelled as she ran up the stairs as fast as she could.
Behind her, pandemonium reigned as witches screamed, cats screeched and the beast
roared back to life. She stole a quick look behind to make sure Mariat was still with her. What
she saw chilled her blood. Instead of the witchling, the werewolf was bounding after her.
She dashed into the broom room, flinging the door shut just as the wolf slammed against
it with a howl of frustration. Knowing the door wouldn't hold, she triggered the pulley rope. As
the rock toppled, a dark shape came at her from the shadows.
She screamed and grabbed up the nearest broom. Before she could swing the makeshift
weapon,
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