Of Werewolves and Curses by Emma Hamm
Chapter 7
Freya pinched the bridge of her nose and stared down at the small journal in her hand. She’d taken notes every time she talked with each elf, but that wasn’t helpful at all.
This one had talked about the various plants that were in the Summer Kingdom for about an hour. And while these details would be interesting any other time of the year, she didn’t really want to hear about this right now.
“Right,” she repeated. “So I just want to clarify, please. We’re asking about any poison you might feel in the area. A sickness, perhaps? Or maybe some of the plants you’ve taken care of happened to have died recently?”
The elf tapped a finger to its butterfly mask, then shook its head. “No. I don’t think I’ve seen any of that.”
“Really?” Freya pushed a little with this one because she couldn’t believe that no one had seen any sign of poison. “Not a single note of concern in any area of the entire court?”
The elf shook its head and shrugged. “We’re quite happy here. It’s the best court to live in, you see. Summer is the most comfortable season, and the Summer Lord is a wonderful ruler. I’m happier than a clam.”
Freya just didn’t believe it. She couldn’t imagine any of these people were happy when there was something insidious growing within their court. There had to be something someone wasn’t telling her.
But that person wouldn’t be the elf standing before her. She snapped the journal shut and gave the creature a sharp nod. “Thank you for talking with me. It’s been a pleasure.”
The elf waved and walked away, back into the lush greenery that it had been grooming. A few leaves stuck out of the elf’s hair, and Freya had the distinct impression that they were actually growing out of the elf’s head.
That one would end up in the forest before long, a voice whispered in her head. Soon it would be absorbed, just like the others.
Shivering, she stood up and walked back toward the castle where the others should be waiting for her. They had all split up to talk with as many elves as they could. All she could hope was that one of them had found out more information than she had.
Both Arrow and Eldridge stood to the side of the castle, nearer to an area that was currently undergoing construction. The gardens had all been ripped up, and none of the elves would go near it until someone had finally planted something there. Freya just wasn’t sure who was supposed to do the planting.
She tromped up to them and waved the journal in her hand. “I’ve got absolutely nothing. It’s like all the elves in this place lost their brains out their ears. Not a single one is aware of any poison, anything spreading, and all of them say they’re perfectly happy. Why in the world would I want to meddle?”
Eldridge held up his own pale white leather notebook and grimaced. “I’m afraid my experience has been much the same. The elves aren’t interested in talking to us, if they have any idea what’s going on at all.”
She turned toward their only hope, the little goblin dog who always wiggled underneath people’s skin. “Please, Arrow, tell me you found out something about the curse affecting this court?”
His ears went straight up and he took a deep breath as though he were about to tell them the greatest information of the century. But then his ears flattened to his skull again, and he tucked his tail between his legs. “I’m afraid not, Miss Freya. The elves wouldn’t even talk to me. It’s like they live in a different version of this court than we see.”
Freya puffed a breath at the hair in front of her face and wished there was something stiff to drink. “Of course they wouldn’t,” she grumbled.
The elves were loyal to their Summer Lord. Freya and her companions were utter strangers, and they stood out among the crowd. If they wanted to get information out of these people, then they needed to seem like they were one of them.
Or find out information from the Summer Lord himself. But that seemed even less likely.
She tucked her journal into her pocket and crossed her arms firmly over her chest. “Well, do either of you have any ideas?”
Both Eldridge and Arrow shared a look, then turned back to her with blank expressions. Freya was so tired of doing everything, especially when she had no idea where to go with this one. Staring out into the pavilion and the beautiful gardens beyond, she finally just shrugged.
That was it, then.
She’d failed her mother. Her father would remain trapped in those trees, and she would be stuck here. Trying to mend the bond between a family that had lost a very dear member.
Her father used to swing her up over his head until she screamed in the sunlight. Freya remembered him as an overly large man with a laugh that boomed like thunder. He was too loud. Too opinionated. Everyone had thought him to be a bear of a person, but they’d still liked him.
It was hard not to like her father. He had a pure heart and that shone through everything he did.
Arrow stepped forward and tucked his nose underneath her hand. “There’s one more person who might help us. I don’t know if she’ll answer, but...”
Eldridge snapped his fingers forcefully. “Arrow, you genius! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Of what?” Freya looked between the two of them, trying to guess who they might be talking about. “We already know the Summer Lord won’t give us a hint at all.”
“But there was another person who stayed with us every summer I visited here.” Eldridge’s eyes glowed with excitement. “I need a pool of water. Come on, you two.”
He raced away before Freya could get anything else out of him. Arrow was quick to follow, and if she didn’t hurry, then they would both leave her in the dust. She tilted her head back to stare up at the clouds above them. “I don’t understand a thing about these two,” she muttered. “Why can’t they just tell me what’s going on before they race off into the distance?”
Shaking her head, she ran after them through the lush forest beyond. Freya slapped large monstera leaves out of her way and tried her best not to step on the flower gardens that the other two were so carelessly trudging through. The elves were still dangerous and territorial about their land. The last thing she wanted was to make these masked creatures angry enough to hunt her and her companions down.
She burst through the undergrowth out into a small glenn in the middle of this terrifying garden. A vernal pool waited in the center, tiny clusters of algae and lily pads making the edges difficult to tell what ground was solid. Some of the earth disappeared into the aquamarine waters.
Eldridge stood at the edge, holding out his hand above the water. He squeezed his eyes shut and muttered words she couldn’t quite hear.
A furry paw stopped her from stepping any closer. “Don’t interrupt him when he’s casting spells,” Arrow said. “We wouldn’t want the whole thing to go awry and then end up with our feet as hands.”
Freya didn’t want to know if that was actually a concern. She didn’t plan to risk it.
They both waited and watched the Goblin King as he worked. He moved his hands in strange patterns over the waters, muttering those words in a certain cadence that started to sound like a song. The more she listened, the more Freya wanted to walk closer to him. To step into the pool of bubbling pond water...
“Freya,” Arrow hissed. “He’s almost done. Just stop moving, would you?”
She snapped out of it and suddenly, Eldridge stopped speaking. He spread his fingers wide and dark magic sank into the water from his fingers. It spread through the very air like drops of ink, and the pool stopped bubbling. All sound in the glen silenced as the water turned into a solid mirror.
Freya gulped. What had the Goblin King done with his magic?
Eldridge held out his hand, gesturing for her to step up to his side. “Come here, Freya. I want you to look at this.”
Had he created some way in the water to see the future? Freya wasn’t sure she’d ever want to see that. The future was meant to be unknown and if she knew it, then would it ever come to pass?
Yet her feet brought her to his side without argument. Eldridge slid his arm around her waist and tugged her to the mossy edge of the pool. Their reflections were perfect on the glassy surface. And then he lifted a hand and pointed. “Look.”
Just behind their image, another appeared. Horns silhouetted against the sky, and a bell skirt swaying around her hips, the Autumn Thief was lovely as ever. She wore bright red lip paint today, and her eyes were dramatically ringed with kohl.
Freya looked behind them. But the Thief wasn’t in the glen. She was only in the water. “How is that possible?” she asked.
“Magic,” the Thief replied with a laugh. “You’ve forgotten how much is possible, my dear. And how little you know.”
A knot of tension eased in her stomach at the sound of the Autumn Thief’s voice. Somehow, this woman always made Freya feel safe. No matter what circumstance they were in.
Freya glanced over at Arrow. “This was your plan? Ask for help from the Thief?”
“She knows more than most.” He trotted to their side and stood up on his back legs. With a sheepish smile, he waved into the pool. “Hello, darling.”
“Arrow. I see you’ve at least been able to dress to your standard on this adventure.” The Thief crossed her arms over her chest and glared at them severely. “I was busy, Eldridge. You know I cannot be summoned without warning. There’s too much to do here.”
“Yes, yes.” He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. “Whatever you need to do can wait. We’ve something a little more important to deal with here.”
Freya rolled her eyes at the same time as the Thief. “Eldridge,” she scolded. “Just because we have issues here doesn’t mean the Thief’s are any less important. We thank you for your time, Thief. Really. We didn’t know who else to turn to.”
A breeze kicked up and swirled the skirts around the Thief’s legs. She nodded, and a small green snake curved around one of her horns. “Then how can I help?”
Eldridge was quick to answer this time, and Freya supposed he was the one who knew best how to ask questions. “Do you remember when we were young and used to spend our summer here?”
“Of course I do.” The Thief shrugged. “I was a very different person then, but that doesn’t mean I have banished the memories from my mind.”
“Good. Because apparently there’s a poison spreading through these lands, and I have a gut feeling it has to do with something we saw when we were here. In the isles after all that time.” He shook his head. “There’s something warning me to look further, deeper into our history, but I cannot put my finger on why. Or how.”
“Might I suggest that’s because you and the Summer Lord were always running around seeking out new adventures? You wouldn’t remember something important if it bit you in the ass, because you would find the next thing to bite in the same spot.” The Thief heaved a sigh and then pointedly stared at Freya. “You’re the one who took this on, you know. You must have the patience of a saint to deal with this one.”
“To be fair, I don’t really know what I’m getting into,” Freya replied with a laugh.
“Hm.” The Thief turned her attention back to the Goblin King with pursed lips. “I don’t know everything you’re looking for, but I remember that we found a book that warned the Summer Lord could grow ill. And it wasn’t something he could catch, but was entirely related to the forest. Remember?”
“Not really.” Eldridge’s hand flexed on Freya’s hip and he stepped away from her. Closer to the pool so he could see the Thief easier. “Was it a book that you and I found?”
“A scroll. Some story on it had said the Summer Lord wasn’t the true ruler of this court. That he never would be, because the forest and the plants make the decisions for the Summer Court. I remember Leo was horribly upset about it.” She turned her face from them, clearly listening to someone they couldn’t see. “I don’t have a lot more time, my dear. All I can say is that I know the forest can take back the right to rule its court if it's disappointed in the Lord. That’s as good a place to start as I can think of.”
The pool shuddered with a wind that brushed over the surface, and then the Autumn Thief was gone. All three of them stared into the shimmering, algae tinted water as if she might return.
Freya was the first to speak. “Well, that settles it.”
Her two companions looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. Eldridge cleared his throat and asked, “Settles what?”
“I have to go back to the forest, clearly. It didn’t give me all the answers I need to figure this all out. And if the forest is disappointed in the Summer Lord, then I need to figure out why.” She shrugged. “Disappointment is one thing, but poisoning the entire court because it’s upset with a single person? That’s just immature.”
Eldridge lunged toward her and slapped his hand over her mouth. Frantically, he stared up at the trees, eyes wide and flicking through the canopy. “She didn’t mean it. She’s just a mortal and has no idea what you listen to. Please don’t punish her for ignorance.”
What was he talking about? Freya glared at him, wiggling to get out of his grip.
Finally, she pulled herself away from him and took a deep breath of anger. “Excuse you! Eldridge.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t,” he rushed to say, holding his hands up for peace. “Just... Be a little more careful about the words you choose. Would you?”
She supposed he might be right. After all, if she was going to converse with those trees again, she needed to have her wits about her.
