Wild Magic (21 page)

“Mari?” Moller's eyelids flickered open. “Mari, I've found you.”

“Yes, Papa. I'm here.”

“Take my hand, Mari.”

Marianna took it and held it tight.

“Did I save him, Mari? I tried.”

“Yes, Papa,” said Marianna. “You saved him. He's going to be fine.”

Moller squeezed her hand. “I'm glad.” He looked at Marianna and managed to smile. But she saw the light fading from his eyes.

“Don't leave me,” she whispered.

“I'll never leave you,” said Moller. “You're my little girl, Mari.” He closed his eyes.

“Papa?”

Moller was struggling to breathe. Marianna saw him gather himself for one last try.

“Papa?”

But he simply sighed . . . and was gone.

Marianna felt his hand go limp. “No,” she whimpered. “No. Papa? Papa!”

There was no reply. Marianna stared at him in horror. She shook her head and gulped for air. Then the tears came. Great racking sobs that shook her whole body.

The tears rolled down her cheeks and down her nose. Down her chin and onto the dead body of her father.
Drip-drip-drip
onto the wound.

The wound began to heal.

Marianna didn't notice at first. She was still lost in grief. But in between sobs, she happened to glance down.

“Dear heaven!”

The flesh was pulling itself together. Soon the gashes had disappeared, leaving nothing but silver scars, slender as threads. Then Moller's mouth opened and the air rushed in. His body rose up. He was bending like a bridge. Marianna fell back, terrified. But there was nothing to fear. Life had been rekindled in her father. His chest began to rise and fall as he breathed again.

Marianna crept closer. “Papa?”

Moller opened his eyes, closed them with a sigh, stretched lazily, then opened them again.

“Papa? Is that you?”

“Of course it's me, Mari. Who else would it be?” He sat up slowly. “What happened? I feel like I've been kicked all over. And why am I covered in blood?”

Marianna stared at him in amazement. “Don't you remember?”

Moller stared right back at her. He shook his head. Then he put his hand on his chest, frowned . . . gasped . . . and remembered everything. The color slid from his face.

“Is Jakob all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Marianna. “Though I think he could use a bit of magic too. He's over there.” She helped her father to his feet and together they walked across the glade.

Jakob had managed to move himself. He was lying with his back propped up against the oak. Beside him lay the Piper, fast asleep and quite naked.

Marianna blushed when she saw him. “We can't leave him like that,” she said. “It's not decent. We'll have to do something.”

Jakob nodded weakly. “He also has a wound that needs tending. I stabbed him with my sword.”

“That twiggy old stick?”

Jakob smiled. “The finest sword a boy ever had.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Fetch me some leaves, Mari. The biggest you can find.”

She hurried off and returned with six enormous leaves, each one big enough to wrap a baby. Jakob pointed his staff at them, closed his eyes and—
voomf !
—instantly they were changed into clothes. Marianna dropped them like they were snakes.

Jakob laughed. “What's the matter?”

“It's this magic business,” said Marianna. She picked them up and placed them beside the Piper. “I don't think I'll ever get used to it!”

CHAPTER
FIFTY

Marianna and Jakob withdrew to the far side of the glade while their father tended to the Piper's wound. Once that was done, Moller joined them and they started to exchange stories. Soon an hour had gone by, and still they were lost in a world of foxes, elves, Standing Stones, and ancient wells. Moller listened intently, especially when Jakob talked about his surprising new talent for magic.

“Your mother suspected it, you know,” he said. “The moment you were born, Jakob, she held you in her arms and said,
He's special, this one.
And I know she worried that one day someone from Elvendale might find you. Not the Piper—someone from her own family, come to claim you as their own. She wanted me to protect you.” He sighed deeply. “I haven't done a good job.”

Marianna briefly put her hand on his. “You've tried,” she said quietly.

Moller glanced at her in surprise. She flushed slightly but said no more. Moller felt his heart move, hardened though it was by life's sorrows. He lowered his head and smiled.

Jakob hadn't noticed the exchange. He was too busy thinking about magic. “You're special too, though, Mari, aren't you? You brought Papa back to life.”

“I didn't,” said Marianna, startled.

“You did! You cried, didn't you? It was the tears. They healed the wound.”

“No,” said Marianna. She shook her head, not wanting it to be true. “It wasn't me. Mama never said I was special, did she, Papa? No, I thought not. It wasn't me, Jakob. It must have been the forest, working some kind of magic.”

Jakob looked at her curiously. “I don't know why you're getting upset, Mari. I think it's great to have magic powers! And I still believe it was you.”

“No,” said Marianna hotly. “It wasn't. I'm not special. If I am—how do you explain the Standing Stone? I told you, the Piper made me touch it. It didn't respond.”

“Actually, it did.”

The Piper was standing beside them, fully clothed and smiling.

“What?”

“It did respond,” said Finn. “But it was so faint, I knew you weren't the one I was looking for. Believe me, if Jakob had touched it, the whole of Elvendale would have known about it.”

He smiled again—the warm, easy smile they all remembered from Hamelin. But then he turned serious and, to Marianna's amazement, he dropped to one knee before Jakob.

“Thank you,” he said. “A thousand times, thank you. You cannot begin to imagine the joy I feel in my heart today.”

Jakob smiled. “I wanted to help.”

“And you have,” said Finn. “Though at great cost to yourself.”

Jakob simply shrugged, but Marianna pounced.

“What do you mean—
at great cost
?”

When Finn didn't reply, Marianna pushed him—so hard, he nearly fell over. “What do you mean?”

“I was cursed,” he said. “To be the Beast, every full moon. There was only one cure. To pass it to another.”

Marianna stared at him. “Are you saying that . . .
Jakob
is cursed now? That he'll become a beast every full moon?”

Finn nodded.

Marianna threw herself at him, nails aimed at his face. Finn caught her by the wrists and held her. She fought him like a baited badger.

“
Whoa
there!” cried Moller, trying unsuccessfully to pull her off.

“Let him be, Mari!” cried Jakob, joining in the fray. “Let him be.”

But Marianna fought on. “You've ruined his life,” she screamed at Finn. “You have condemned my brother to endless torment. Years of suffering.”

“He knew,” said Finn.

Marianna didn't hear him.

“HE KNEW.”

Marianna stopped struggling. “What?”

“Jakob knew what would happen,” said Finn. “He allowed me to do it.”

Marianna went limp in his hands. Finn put her down, grimacing in pain from the wound in his side.

“Is this true?” said Marianna, turning to Jakob. “You
let
him do it?”

Jakob nodded.

“Why?”

“I understood him,” said Jakob. “I shared his thoughts—his feelings—just for a moment. I saw what he wanted to do—and what it would mean for me. But I also saw
why
he needed to do it, and I wanted to help. So I didn't fight. I let him bite me.”

Moller whistled. “That was brave, boy.”

Jakob shrugged. “Not really.”

“He could have killed you,” said Marianna. “He killed Papa.”

‘“I humbly apologize for that,” interrupted Finn. “That was the Beast. It was uncontrollable.”

“I know,” said Marianna angrily. “I saw what it did to Karl. And now we have a new beast. My brother.”

“Mari,” said Moller. “Let's not go around in circles. Piper—tell me the truth now. None of your tricks. Will my boy become a beast, next full moon?”

Finn slowly shook his head. “I cannot say—and that is an honest answer. I know that I am free of the Beast. I can feel it in my heart, in my head, in my bones. It has truly gone. Jakob—can you feel it? A shadow at the back of your mind? A feeling that you are not entirely alone?”

Jakob fell silent, concentrating. “I don't know,” he said at last.

Marianna felt the tears spring to her eyes. Moller rose to his feet and started to walk away, as if he would find answers elsewhere. But then he turned back.

“What's to be done?” he said. “Is there no cure?”

“I fear not,” said Finn. “Unless . . .” “. . . he passes it on,” finished Marianna. “Then he will
never
be cured. Never. Because Jakob won't do that.”

Finn glanced at Jakob's face and knew it to be true. “We must have hope,” he said. “I was cursed because I did wrong, I admit that. But Jakob has done nothing wrong. Perhaps the curse has died tonight.”

“I pray so,” said Moller. “Only time will tell. But what's to become of us now? Do you know a way out of this forest?”

“No,” said Finn, “but my hawk will find us in the morning. He will lead us out.”

“And what then?” said Marianna to her father. “Shall we leave Elvendale?”

“I reckon so,” said Moller. “Perhaps the Piper here will find us a door?”

“Gladly,” said Finn. “You shall have a door to wherever you want.”

“To Hamelin, of course,” said Marianna. “Home.” Her thoughts immediately flew back to town. Back to the narrow streets and the bustling market square, back to her friends and the gossip she was missing. But then she realized—her friends weren't there. Her friends were in Elvendale. They were bats and badgers and whatever else the Piper had condemned them to be.

Later, as she made a bed of leaves, she glanced across at Finn. What a strange creature he was. So fickle! It was as if all the extremes of being were there, wrapped up in one beautiful, tormented body. And he
was
beautiful. Even now, after everything he had done—to Jakob, to her friends, to her—she couldn't deny it. But then, the deadly nightshade plant was beautiful too, with its bell-like flowers and shiny black berries. Dark,
poisonous
berries that brought death to all who ate them.

Ratcatcher, Piper, enchanter, elf . . . Whoever he was, whatever he was, Marianna wished, with all her heart, that he had never darkened the gates of Hamelin Town.

CHAPTER
FIFTY-ONE

Morning came, bringing Flyte with it. He descended from the clouds with a silver pipe held firmly in his talons, dropped it into Finn's eager hands, then landed on his outstretched arm.

“We need you to lead us out of here,” said Finn, tucking the pipe in a pocket. “Is it far to the forest edge?”

“Far enough when you're an unwelcome visitor,” said Flyte. “You should leave without delay. There's a path south of here. Follow me. I'll take you to it.”

With that, Flyte flew across the glade, landed on a tree, and waited for the travelers to join him. Once they did, he flew to another and then another, leading them toward the path and safety.

They made good progress. The path, when they reached it, was wide and straight. The day was pleasantly warm rather than hot, and there were plenty of pools to drink from. Marianna wished they were carrying a picnic: there were so many inviting places to stop and rest. And there were
endless
things to look at. She longed to linger. They were going home; soon she would have nothing but memories of Elvendale. She wanted to make sure they were vivid ones.