Chapter Two - Madge's Spell
WE TRAVELLED LIGHT, only taking the most essential items for the journey. Balthus insisted that he could carry more if necessary, but Merl reminded him that he wasn't at full strength.
The lower half of his leg had been blown off in the chamber under the Worlen royal manor during the fight with Agrona. As a result, he was a little bit unsteady on his feet.
Merl had magically fashioned him a thickset, silver replacement leg. Presented to him by Merl as a gift on behalf of the inhabitants of Falinn Galdur, it didn't come close to what he had sacrificed that night but he'd accepted it with graciousness nonetheless. It was the same size as his own muscular leg and fit perfectly onto his kneecap. At the foot was a huge silver boot and Queen Deltrina's smiling image was etched onto the calf. The image was very similar to tattoos that people from my world engraved into their skin. I don't know how he could bear to see the image of his only love, so mercilessly taken away from him, every day. I guess people deal with their grief differently and this was his way. At least after Merl made him the leg, he began to emerge more often from his room at the Dragons Scales. He insisted his new limb wasn't too heavy but he had toppled over a couple of times. In his pride he blamed the mead but I hadn't seen him drink a drop since Elba went missing.
It was only half a day's journey through Galdur Wood before we reached the no-mans-land where Mother Madge lived. My fingers were twitching for my bow the whole way. I hadn't forgotten the experience with the stalking adder. I don't think I'd ever forget that experience! I was half-hoping we might encounter the wolf pack that were integral to our survival on that terrible night, maybe they knew where Jestin was. They were my best theory as to who may have saved him. I hoped they had saved him. As if reading my thoughts Merl mentioned that we were heading in the opposite direction to the wolf packs' territory. We would not be venturing anywhere near the outer-lands of Forge Gate. Instead, we were taking the path through the golden blossom trees of Blossomdown Wood.
Blossomdown wood was a small patch of woodland at the very edge of Blossomdown. It led directly into Galdur Wood. Beyond the woodland were the barren moors where Madge lived. Balthus, who was just as keen as I was to locate Jestin and Elba, looked as disappointed as I felt but we plodded on regardless.
Once we had passed the newly budding blossom trees of Galdur Wood the woods were thinner than the deepest part of Galdur Wood we had entered last summer. There was just a smattering of yew trees and a blanket of dark-green fern covering the ground. By mid-afternoon, the trees gave way to vast fields consisting of nothing other than grass. There may be the occasional bolder or crumbling dry stone wall but other than that, the landscape was quite dull. A blur of greens, greys and oranges made the journey seem like it took double the time. There was so very little on the horizon that Mother Madge's tiny round hut could be seen for miles in the distance. A circular stone building with a badly thatched roof and miniature mismatched windows, it couldn't have been any taller than the petite buildings that the small-statured Bobbins lived in. Thick plumes of green smoke bellowed out from a narrow chimney. As we approached, the distinctly eggy smell of the smoke turned my stomach. I looked to Merl, who seemed to be bracing himself for the meeting.
"Hmm, ugh." He cleared his throat at the doorway.
"I'm not in, go away." A croaky female voice answered. I peered through one of the holes in the battered curtain that served as a rudimentary doorway.
There was a tiny old lady sat at the table and dressed in tatty brown rags. Her hair was wiry grey and on the side of her head she had purple dragon-like scales. Her elongated fingernails were thick and yellowing. Her feet were just as reptilian, with three long scaled toes that had huge talons on the end. Protruding from underneath her rags was a purple tail with a forked spike at the end. She was absent-mindedly scratching the hairy belly of an enormous wild boar. The boar was so huge in stature that it took up most of the room in the small cabin. It snorted happily, stretching its round body to capacity as it lazed, directly in front of a crackling fire. Above the fire hung a small black cauldron that bubbled with the foul-smelling green mixture.
"Madge, you insufferable hag, I can ruddy well see you." Merl stated, becoming vexed. Bettery stepped in, pushing Merl out of the way.
"Madge deary, I've brought you some of those nettle scones you like I have. I thought we could eat them together and have a chat we could. It's been a long while since our last one." She urged.
"I don't like nettle scones anymore. Leave them at the doorway and stop bothering me, I'm busy." Madge's croaky voice replied bluntly.
Merl was red with indignation. Bettery also looked flustered, her sweet nature and natural charm did not usually fail her when it came to gaining friends. I turned to Merl.
"Well, that was illuminating. Why don't Balthus and I go and check out Galdur Woods? I mean we're so close, we could just have a sneaky peak and then be back before you know it." I was pushing it but it was worth a try. Balthus's face lightened at the idea. Merl had to do a lot of convincing to stop Balthus from going to look for Elba alone when he first acquired his new leg. Merl turned an interesting shade of scarlet. He was about to bite my head off in reply before the croaky voice interjected.
"Balthus, that isn't THE General Balthus, is it?" Madge's curiosity spiked.
"Indeed I am." Balthus answered proudly.
"Well why didn't you say so, do come in Mr Balthus." She gushed, before hobbing over and opening the curtain. "I'm a big fan of your work, the ruin of the Redcaps, the slaughter of the Cat Sith and the clobbering of the Cave Trolls." She held the curtain open for Balthus, leaving it to drop as Merl was stooped halfway through the doorway. "I followed all your conquests with great relish Mr Balthus." As she smiled, a row of pointed, glistening white teeth made her look somewhat menacing for an old lady. We all sat around a small wooden table as Madge cleared the space in front of a crouching Balthus, pushing multi-coloured bottles of potions and elixirs' and varying fragments of sheep bones, into bigger piles directly in-front of Merl, Bettery and me.
"I brought some goats milk I did, to go with the nettle scones." Bettery called to Madge cheerfully. Madge dismissively waved her hand at Bettery as she fussed over a flustered looking Balthus. Taking his deer-hide coat, she perched both his feet up onto a small rounded stool, not noticing as his silver leg detached completely and rolled off towards the opposite end of the room. I watched it trundle and then stop just below a yellowing etching of a rather beautiful young woman.
I followed the leg across the miniature room in order to reunite it with its owner. Upon straightening to a standing position with leg in hand, I found myself facing the portrait. The woman it depicted had a kind face, with striking eyes and a full mouth. Her soft, feminine jawline gave her face a tear-drop shape that was framed by tumbling locks of ringed hair. I walked over to the life-like etching and inspected it closer. Merl came to my side, staring wordlessly at the same picture.
"Who is this?" I asked Madge intrigued.
"Mind your own business." She replied bluntly, turning to face me. "Gweniveev?" She surveyed me astounded by what she saw.
"No Madge, this is not Gweniveev. You are well aware that Gweniveev is dead." Merl stated sadly. He cleared his throat and continued. "This is Violet, she is our heir and descendent." Madge looked from Merl to me, as if to make sure this was not some kind of trick being played on her. She clearly decided it wasn't, although the astounded look remained on her face as she came over to survey me closer.
"Hello, erm nice to meet you." I extended my hand in greeting.
"Well I'll be a frog's spawn's aunty, you look just like her!" She cackled. "There are good genes in this one. Must have come from my Merryweather's side, certainly not from you, you old goat." She directed the last comment at Merl. Pointing her yellow clawed finger into his bony chest. "That's my Merryweather, in the picture." She reached up and put her thin arm around my shoulder. "Beautiful creature she was, far too goo
d for that bearded clod." She inclined her eyes towards Merl. "Yes far, far too good. I told her so too. But for some unfathomable reason, she loved him. The wedding was quite an affair I'll tell you. This ninny lost his way, nearly ruined the whole occasion." Madge imparted.
"You scheming old bat, you locked me in a broom cupboard!" Merl spat back.
"It was only a broom cupboard. You're supposed to be the greatest sorcerer that ever lived!" Madge guffawed.
"It was a ruddy portal to Cragsley, you obstreperous oaf. I was very nearly consumed by Spinners that day. It was particularly unhelpful of you to have covered me in flies-blood ointment." Merl was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to remain calm.
I could see why he only visited his elderly mother-in-law once every couple of hundred years. She was the female version of him and with sharper teeth to boot. She directed me back toward the table and motioned for me to sit. This time she pushed the potion bottles and bones further into Merl's section of the table. They created a small mountain before him as he took his place, obscuring his face from view. A few of the bottles, that teetered on the very edge of the table rolled off, disturbing the snoring boar. He rolled over, rubbed his nose into the wooden floor and began snoring again. I eyed him guiltily, I'd eaten boar on a couple of occasions.
"Don't mind Herborg, he's been digging up worms and roots all afternoon, the little sweetheart. He's tired himself out." She smiled a jagged smile.
"He's lovely." I observed. I was being slightly generous to the snotty, smelly animal lazing on the floor before us but Madge clearly held a great affection for him.
"He is isn't he." She agreed. "He's been with me from the very beginning, just as immortal as I am. He doesn't look a day over five hundred though does he? He still tracks like a young hog too." She tickled his portly belly. "He finds allsorts when he's out digging. He disappeared once for about three days, I thought he'd been eaten by the wolves. He came back with a Bugul Noz baby. We kept her here for a while before she decided to go back to the forest. Much altered she was by then." Madge said this bluntly. As if it was just another everyday event. It wasn't of course, this was a revelation. Bugul's baby was alive and she was living, as far as I knew, in Galdur Wood! I was elated. I had to contact Bugul. He was going to be so pleased, so relieved. If any creature deserved a little happiness during these dark times, it was Bugul. I hated the thought of him all alone in the foreboding Thistlewick Forest for so long, if I could find out what happened to his baby then maybe there was some way I could reunite them. I made a mental note that I would venture here again in the coming summer to visit Madge and talk some more about the Noz baby. I would have to convince Merl to accompany me due to the current threat from Forge Gate and judging by the way his face twisted when surveying his reptilian mother-in-law that was not going to be easy. I thought it best not to bring it up until Merl was home in his comfortable chair and preferably, after he had consumed at least one tankard of ale.
"Yes of course he did Madge, and I found the Moonstone Scythe whilst pottering in the garden shed and the Sword of ruddy Cali whilst nipping to the little old wizards' room." Merl added, in quite a patronising tone. Madge responded by hitting him sharply around the head with the end of her tail.
"I still have enough of my facilities about me, young man, to know when I am being insulted."
"I've insulted you numerous times and I will undoubtedly do it again." Merl responded as he rubbed the back of his head tenderly.
"Just remember this you brainless miser, I will be full-dragon one day, when this cursed spell takes hold, and you are the first person on my 'to eat' list." She stated.
"Ah well, good luck consuming me Madge, I think you might find me rather too bony. I will take care to get stuck in your throat." Merl quipped back.
"Now that's enough of your arguing it is." Bettery spoke up. "I think it's time you asked Mother Madge about that spell Merl. After all it's why we've come all this way it is." She stated. Merl and Mother Madge exchanged a serious look, a look that told a thousand tales, a look that made me uneasy about whatever this spell entailed. I inwardly questioned just how far Merl was willing to go in his quest to defeat Agrona once and for all.
"I don't want to talk about the spell." Madge answered. "I will never talk about the spell. Don't ask me about the spell."
"I'm afraid we have been left with very little choice." Merl sounded regretful.
"What do you mean very little choice?" Madge questioned. "There is no good reason for you to need the details of that spell." She turned away, taking a wooden spoon and dipping it deep into the green, eggy concoction in the cauldron. She pinned her nose, bringing the spoon to her lips, drank the mixture in one gulp.
"Agrona is awake." Merl declared.
"What!" Madge nearly spat her second spoon of the horrible mixture out at poor Balthus, who ducked out of the way just in time.
"She is building her army behind the walls of Forge Gate and her main objective is the procuring of young Violet's heart. I'm sure you do not want Violet here to suffer the same fate as our beloved Gweniveev." Merl pressed.
"Then teach her magic." Madge argued.
"I have taught her some and Violet is quite the student it must be acknowledged. However she is nowhere near ready to face such a formidable foe. After much deliberation, I feel I have no other option than to ask you about the spell and, if needs be, have Violet perform it." Madge looked horrified at the suggestion.
"Absolutely not!" she said turning her back to us.
"Well that's what I said Madge deary but he keeps insisting he does. Maybe if Violet knows the truth she will make the right choice on her own she will." Bettery gazed at Madge curiously, as if she was expecting Madge to reach some hidden conclusion in her words. Madge simply shook her head in response.
"Then you condemn Violet to her death." Merl stated crossly, pulling me toward the door. "I will waste no more of my time here."
"How dare you! To burden me with such a quandary and at my age, you will be the death of me Merrydian" Madge was angry now.
"I would not burden you if I felt there was any other choice." Merl said a little more sympathetically. Madge surveyed me for a while. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, sympathy, fear and regret or something else entirely? The humanity in her facial features was too distorted by her reptilian side to read accurately.
"And has the girl agreed to this?" She asked. "Does she even know my story? Does she know about the risks?"
"Not entirely." Merl answered. "That is the other reason why I have brought her here." Bettery nodded firmly in agreement, I didn't know what decision she was expecting me to reach but I got the feeling it was at odds with what Merl clearly anticipated of me.
Madge took my free arm and led me back to my place. Sitting directly across from me, she picked up a few of the smaller bones from the table. She blew on the bones softly, a wisp of orange fire escaped with her breath, slightly singeing them. When they had turned a yellowish-black she rolled them across the table, like a game player rolling her dice. They stopped just short of me and arranged themselves into a circular formation.
"Interesting, she has potential." She stated. "I will tell you my tale Violet, and then you can make the decision. If you think the spell I performed is worth the risk of becoming what I am, what I have been for a long time, I will tell you how to do it. If you don't, then that is a perfectly understandable decision." I nodded, already knowing that this spell would have to have some pretty extreme consequences for me to turn it down.
I was a young woman once, a long, long time ago. I was poor but happy and I was desperately in love with a dashing young man, his name was Absollon. We were to be wed, it was much easier in those days, you just had to make your vows and that was that. One of my friends, Letti they called her, took me to the village washerwoman for luck. This particular washerwoman didn't wash any clothes, no she was a powerful seer and blessed all the marriages, she was quite popular. All the washerwoman had to do was
wish the marriage well and I would have been on my merry way. But that day she had no such wish for me.
She foretold that if I wed Absollon, our first and only child, would die during birth. To make matters worse the brazen hag told me it was for the best, that untold evils would come to pass if the child survived. Filled with sadness and dread, I called off the marriage for a time. Eventually Absollon convinced me that the washerwoman was just a crazy old witch and we were wed.
Spring and summer passed by, and I was content. It was not until I felt my little baby quicken, that the very same dread began to bubble within me again. As my baby grew, moving and jolting inside me, so did my desperation to save the poor little thing. I knew the washerwoman had never been wrong before, it was folly of me to wed against her advice and the baby inside me was going to pay the price. I had been selfish but by the time I realised that it was too late. In utter despair, I went back to the washerwoman and begged for a solution. I would have done anything to save my baby's life. Seeing how utterly miserable I was, she gave me the solution - a spell, but she warned that it was also a curse. It would save my child's life but it would also damn me for all eternity. Maybe she thought I wouldn't accept, nobody could have guessed the longing I had within me for the life of my child. I would have torn out my own heart and given it to her upon birth, if it meant she could live.
She instructed me to find three ingredients, warning that they were almost impossible to attain, giving me an incantation to complete the spell. I should take the ingredients. Boil them in a pot of water and then consume them. I have said the incantation only once in my life, many ages ago. Still, I remember the words as clearly and vividly as if I muttered them only yesterday. I will write them for you when I am finished.
A drop from the Waters of Roseworth, was the first and easiest object. I went for that one first. I set about my task with around five months to spare before my baby was due in this world.
The Waters of Roseworth, ancient and mystic waters, they glisten and twinkle, as if blessed by the stars. They have an odd rusty sort of taste, not at all as pleasant as they look. The natural spring they emitted from, still exists in the world you come from- the mainland. When I set about my mission, an almighty Goblin king named Grangless guarded them and he did not like anyone to approach them, let alone take a drop.
At that time, I did not live far from where they sprung, that made the journey quite simple but I had to be cunning in my approach. Grangless had shed much blood protecting his waters and no other soul had gotten near them in hundreds of years. Determined, I took Herborg with me. He's a clever and hearty hog, in those days, he was worth much more than meat. He was a good pig to stud. It was how I made my living.
I offered him to Grangless, pretending I wanted to trade him for the precious stones the Goblins mined from the ground. It was not uncommon in those times for people to make bargains with Goblins. No one questioned me because I was just a tiny young woman and because I was with child. The king's Goblin guards left us to discuss the deal, assuming they had nothing to fear from me. As he considered how many stones he might trade for Herborg, I struck him about the head. He didn't fall instantly but when he did, he never rose again. I'm not proud of how I acted that night but desperation drove me more than any other emotion. Killing Grangless was the first brutal act I had ever committed in my life. It would not be the last. I took the waters in my waterproof flasket, with plenty to spare and hid them in a pot in my hut.
The second object that I had to find was fairy ointment. It is a thick liquid made from a mixture of tree-sap and animal blood. It gives its user the ability to absorb magic more readily. The fairies use it for protection from the other mystical beasts that haunt their forests. The fairies also use it to transport children to their forests. Horrible little creatures fairies, they lead children into woodland, and then leave them there just for fun. They skip around graves, dance, and laugh. Have you ever heard the expression, someone's dancing on my grave? That expression is an omen; it means that the little horrors are enjoying themselves at the speaker's expense. Still, they are much smaller in stature than Grangless so I felt I was prepared for the task that lay ahead. I was wrong.
As I have already said, I was utterly desperate, willing to do anything. During the night, I took Absollon's hunting dagger and stole away. I followed a woodland path, which had many reports of a Barghest haunting. There were even reports of deaths. Barghests' are enormous, black hounds that guard pathways to fairy forests. It was not long before I came across the foul creature. Snarling and drooling, its last victim's blood secreting in scarlet droplets from its fearsome mouth. I was truly terrified. I approached the creature regardless and for my troubles, it gave me three riddles to answer. If I got them right, it would allow me entry to the fairy forest, if I got them wrong it would consume my flesh. I don't remember the riddles but I'm telling you this tale, so it is safe to assume that I answered them correctly.
The fairy forest is an awful place. Midnight black birch trees, thorn apple weeds and hemlock grow there, interwoven with vast thorn bushes that stretch as far beyond what the eye can observe. With no light in that godforsaken place, I had only the narrow rays of the moon, silver flashes of hope that defied the darkness, to light my way. There is only one pathway through the forest, cobbled by the fairies and always watched.
The fairies observed my approach from the foliage, giggling maleficently as I stumbled my way through. They must have been intrigued because they let me continue as far as their den. It was very similar to a beehive but instead of golden-yellow, it was a cool-grey colour. When I reached out towards it to take some of the sappy ointment, the fairies were furious at my imposition. Fast little things fairies, they shoot around the place in a haze of high-pitched whistles and distorted colours. I'd heard tales that told if a fairy hits you at speed, it would kill you instantly. Apparently, it was much like being shot by a hurtling arrow. I came away from that tree with many lacerations from both the thorn bushes and near misses with the fairies. Most importantly, I came away with the gloopy fairy ointment oozing from my fingertips. The Barghest was slumbering as I thundered past on exit. I was fortunate in this. I was fortunate that I came away at all. Against all odds, I had the water and I had the ointment but now I needed the scale. With quiet confidence, I began to feel there was at least some hope for my precious baby.
I went straight to the washerwoman and begged for her help once again. After much persuasion, she gave me a mystic necklace that would transport me to the dragon's liar and back again if I survived. In return, she asked that I never visit her again.
I was elated that I had two of the supposedly unattainable ingredients, with around two months to spare until the end of my pregnancy there was still time. Knowing that I was probably going to meet my doom, I did not use the necklace straight away. I sat for hours staring at the thing, hoping vainly that I might just happen upon a dragon's scale. I had been fortunate so far. However, as my belly grew, so did my desperation. I became so eager to procure the scale before the birth of my child that I involved Absollon in my quest.
He was a good man and hearing how much I had already risked trying to save our child, he offered to procure the scale for me. I don't know how Absollon died. He was a strong man, the strongest and bravest I ever knew but even he was no match for a dragon. The necklace opened a portal that took him to the dragon. I watched as he walked through and sat for hours where it had appeared, waiting for his return. Sure enough, as night gave way to the morning sun, the portal opened and a scale flew through it. It landing at my feet and charred the wooden floor. The necklace covered in Absollon's blood followed it and then, to my utter horror, it closed. My biggest regret during the whole affair was Absollon's death. Even so, I still would not do a single thing differently.
I made the potion as the washerwoman had instructed. I spilt a few drops, lapped up eagerly by Herborg and drank the rest just before my baby, Merryweather, was born. If she was my curse then I was
happy to be damned. She came into this world perfect. I know that Absollon would have loved her too. I was glad his sacrifice had not been in vain. She, the toast of the village and I, her proud mother. The villagers said they had been blessed the day she was born. Performing extraordinary feats, she would heal their wounded livestock and renew their harvests. She was a blessing.
Seven of the happiest winters I have ever lived passed before I noticed that something was wrong. Not with my Merryweather, she was irrevocably perfect. She even got the village back in favour with the Goblins, giving them the best harvest they ever had. No, something was wrong with me. I felt the stump of a tail begin to protrude from the bottom of my back and my head itched with the scaly skin that began to appear.
Breaking my promise, I went back to the washerwoman. She was surprised to see me at first, assuming that I would have perished retrieving the dragon's scale. But I had not died and I wanted answers. She would not give them. At least not until I got so irate, I burned her home down with an almighty scream.
I thought then that drinking the potion had saved Merryweather because it made me supernaturally strong. I asked the washerwoman if this was the reason. Angry that I'd destroyed her home, she told me spitefully that this was only partly the explanation. When I had drunk the potion, I had blighted myself, giving away part of my mortal soul to my child. This unnatural balance within Merryweather gave her extra life force, making her more in-touch with the world around her. She was able to manipulate it magically because of this. I on the other hand, was missing part of my soul. A part that had been taken over by the strongest element in the mixture, the dragon.
I went to extraordinary lengths to keep my child alive, I sacrificed so much for her. I gave away part of my very own soul and foredoomed myself for eternity. I am slowly turning into a dragon myself, as you can probably see. There is no way to halt this transition. The spell made me greatly powerful, immortal and cursed. I would do it all again in a heartbeat because I had good enough reason. What I ask you now Violet is, do you?
Madge rose from her seat, shuffling over to the table, she threw Herborg one of the sheep bones. He caught it in his mouth and chewed happily. Wispy vapours escaping from his wide nostrils rose to the blackened roof of the cabin, adding to the endless scorch marks already there.
I considered Madge's story. Even if we could get hold of the three objects needed to perform the spell, would I be willing to risk my own soul? I could never defeat Agrona without empowering myself but the magic that Madge spoke of was dark.
Merl seemed to think this was the only way forward. Maybe he was right. Maybe, but what did I have to lose? If we didn't do anything I was probably going to die anyway and take most of the inhabitants of Falinn Galdur with me. To save the beings my stupid actions had doomed was that good enough reason? To me it was. I took the incantation from Madge's withered hand.