Justin R. Lawfer

         Mother, Lily, and I quietly waited at the table as Father slid the last of four deadbolts into place on the cottage door.  He hung his ax on a nail on the doorframe, double-checked the bolts, then joined the rest of us for supper.  We all bowed our heads as Father said grace, then proceeded to eat our meal of corn and potatoes in silence.  There was no rule that we do so, but Father, Mother, and I were listening for the sound of the attack.

         After we finished eating, I cleared the table as Father lit his pipe.  Mother went to her rocking chair in the corner of the room and started mending Father's other pair of pants.  My sister sat down by Mother's feet and played with her yarn-haired dolls. 

         I scraped bits of food from the plates into a rusted pail, then dampened a cloth in a bucket of water.  As I wiped the plates clean, I stared at the thick wooden boards covering the kitchen window, wondering as I did every night if they would be torn apart and we would be taken away by the kynols.

         Once I finished my chore, I sat across from Father.  He noticed the gloomy look on my face and gently placed his large calloused hand on my arm.  Father was not one to give words of comfort, but he showed that he cared by always listening to me talk about what was on my mind.

         "Do you think tonight will be the night?" I softly asked.

         "What a terrible thing to ask!" Mother said. 

         Father exhaled a faint cloud of smoke that drifted in front of his brown eyes.  "It is the way of things," he said to her.  "She is only voicing the question that everyone keeps to themselves every night."

         "Well, don't let her mind wallow in such despair.  Give her some hope about the future, for heaven's sake!  A young girl shouldn't be worried about death all the time."

         "If there was hope to give, I would be the first to do so," Father replied.  "But the curse will only be lifted once the last villager dies.  That is the only way the kynols will leave."

         Mother glowered at him, but even she couldn't argue with that fact.

         I laid my head on the table and closed my eyes.  I tried to picture what life would be like without the kynols, but I couldn't imagine it.  I was three years old when they first appeared, and my memories from before that time weren't very clear.  But I knew what the night looked like, unlike Lily, who had been born shortly after the kynol attacks began.  She would never—

         I was startled by something moving along my head.  I opened my eyes and looked into the smiling, blue-eyed face of my sister, who was gently running her hand through my brown hair.  That simple touch somehow made the situation seem less grim.  I realized that whatever fate awaited us, we would face it together as a family. 

         I playfully ruffled Lily's sun-colored locks.  She giggled and moved her fingers around her face.  I gave her a quizzical look.  Lily had lost her hearing when she was two years old.  She could read lips fairly well, but she never spoke any understandable words.  Instead she used some gestures we had taught her to tell us what she wanted and how she was feeling.  In the last few months she had been adding more finger movements to her "speech", but we didn't know what they meant.

         Father lifted Lily onto his lap.  She tapped her chest twice with her open palm, then put her hand to his chest. 

         "I love you, too," Father said, returning the gesture to her. 

         "At least one of us will never have to hear the kynols' screams," I said.  "If the worst happens, she won't be like the rest of us and have that awful sound be the last thing she hears."

         "Margaret, come here," Mother said.

         I got up from the table and went to her.  She took my hands in hers and said, "I don't want you to ever lose hope that we will be free of this."

         "But, Mother, I don't think—"

         "Do you know why you mustn't lose hope?"

         "Because nothing can silence a heart that beats with hope," I said, repeating a phrase that she was fond of saying.

         Mother grinned.  "Exactly.  And as long as your heart beats, you will live to see the day the kynols are defeated."

         I couldn't help but smile.  I always admired Mother for having the strength to keep a cheerful attitude all these years; without her, this nightmare would have been a thousand times harder to endure.  But even I knew that uplifting words couldn't kill monsters.

         "It's nice to see you smile," Mother said.  "You and Lily have such pretty smiles.  And someday the two of you will leave this village and share your smiles with the world.  Then you'll come back and tell Father and me all about your adven—"

         Something grated along the roof, startling Father, Mother, and me.  We sat completely still and listened.  Father looked up as he set Lily on the floor, then put out his pipe.  He went to the front door and seized the ax. 

         Heavy thuds came from the roof, joined in by shrill chattering and the screech of something scraping across the roof shingles.  I embraced Mother.  Lily saw our panic-stricken faces and rushed over to us.  We heard something flit by the cottage.  A caw came from our doorstep.  Father got up and stood in front of the door.  He tightened his grip on the ax.  More caws and squeals came from the other side of the door.  Suddenly, the savage chorus fell silent.  Then a fierce boom filled the cottage as something struck the door.  Father put his back to the door and pushed with all his might.  The boom came again.  Father tumbled to the floor.  Irritated hisses sounded from outside, followed by the flapping of leathery wings.  Father quickly stood and put his back to the door again, anticipating another strike. 

         Thumps and snaps echoed through the cottage as the beasts moved across the roof, sinking their claws into the shingles.  Then I heard a sharp scratching sound.  My eyes searched the room, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.  I looked between Father's feet.

         Two pointed claws were shoving their way underneath the door.  

         "Look out!" I screamed as I pointed.

         Father looked down, then jumped away from the door.  He swung the ax and sliced through the claws.  A pained scream grated on my ears. 

         Mother tightened her arms around Lily and me, as the fluttering grew louder, alerting us to the arrival of more kynols.  Some beasts threw themselves against the shutters.  I heard wood crack, and my heart stopped.   Father constantly moved from the door to the windows and back, checking for places where the kynols were trying to enter.  If a claw or beak appeared, he hastily dispatched it with his ax. 

         Hour after hour trudged by as we sat listening to grunts and screeches and the breaking of wood.  Then, overwhelmed with exhaustion, I closed my aching eyes and sank into a troubled sleep.

         Nine years.  The people of our village have spent nine years locked inside at night, praying that we will stay alive until morning so we can prepare for the next night's attack.  It seems incredible that we've survived this curse for so long.  But I have learned from the stories Father and the other adults have told again and again that our troubles actually began almost thirty years ago, when a witch lived deep within the nearby forest.  The villagers feared her because she crafted spells that made cows go dry and crops wither, and she could make people fatally ill just by glancing at them in a certain way.  It was also said that she shared her bed with the devil and his minions.

         One cold evening a stranger entered the forest.  He was an evil man who traveled across the land, terrorizing villages and murdering innocent people.  He was hungry and tired when he stumbled upon the witch's cabin.  He knocked on the door and asked if anyone was home.  When he received no reply, he entered.  Finding the place empty, he decided to spend the night there.  He started a fire and made a meal for himself with food from the witch's cupboards.  After he finished eating, he crawled into the witch's bed and fell asleep.

         Shortly thereafter, the witch returned from performing one of her many heinous crimes. She was surprised to see smoke coming from her cabin.  She was shocked when she entered and found her food had been eaten.  And she was completely outraged when she stepped into her bedroom and saw the man.  But the witch's anger instantly turned to lust, for she could sense the darkness that filled the man's heart.  She cackled gleefully, wakening the man-monster.  The moment he laid eyes on her he found himself drawn to the foulness of her soul—to him, she was the most desirable creature in all creation.  The two coupled long into the night.  After they finished, he slumbered peacefully while the witch left the cabin to meet some demons in the forest.

         When the stranger awoke again just before daybreak, he was even more evil than before.  He had touched the vilest part of the witch, and her wickedness had completely blackened his soul.  He made his way to our village and ranted about what he had done with the witch.  He cursed the villagers to the darkest parts of Hell and said that all the women would give birth to beasts and monsters.  The men of our village chased him with torches, farm tools, and stones, and drove him from the land.

         Nine months later, the witch gave birth to a baby girl.  From the moment the girl could speak, the witch began teaching her everything she knew about the dark arts.

         Shortly after the girl's seventeenth birthday, the witch was stricken with a deadly illness.  Her daughter tried to heal her, but her powers were not strong enough.  In desperation she ran to the village and begged the people for help.  No one came to her aid because she was the daughter of a witch.  Instead, the men drove her out of the village.  They pursued her to the nearest seashore, where they forced her off the edge of a cliff overlooking the water.  The daughter cried out to her mother as she plummeted to her doom.

         Far away in the cottage, the witch heard her daughter's death-screams.  She used the rest of her dwindling strength to utter a spell that released the kynols—creatures from the bowels of Hell whose sole purpose was to besiege our village. 

         At first only a handful of kynols appeared to dart at the villagers.  We attacked them with farm tools and torches, but they soon grew in number and aggression.  We were forced to stay in our homes at night.  Then the kynols started to attack the cottages, trying to get in so they could feast upon our flesh and bones.  Some people left the village, but they were all hunted down and devoured by the kynols.  The rest of us reinforced the cottages with thick wood and heavy shingles to withstand the kynols' assaults.

         Now, every night we are forced to suffer in fear and helplessness, for we have no way of completely destroying the kynols.  The monsters could probably wipe us all out in a single night, but their duty is to wear us down, to crush our spirits, to make sure our final moments in this world are spent in absolute terror.

         Perhaps Mother is right.  Maybe one day, through some miracle, we will find a way to be completely rid of the beasts.  But after bearing this torment for nine years, I know that there are no such things as miracles.

         I was awakened the next morning by the sound of the locks being slid from the door.  I rubbed my eyes as Mother and Lily stirred beside me.  Father was cautiously peeking outside.  He nodded to indicate that it was safe.  We gathered in the doorway.  The kynols were gone, but they had left our village littered with gnawed wood, broken bricks, torn shingles, and splintered shutters.  Some of our neighbors were already sorting through the debris, looking for reusable materials. 

         "Time to get to work," Father said, kicking the severed claws from last night out into the yard. 

         Our village had quickly learned that our survival depended on us being organized and efficient.  While one group of villagers cleaned up the previous night's mess, another group went out to the fields to harvest crops for food and to sell at the markets in neighboring towns.  The money from the crops was spent on materials and tools for fixing the cottages.  Those who went to other towns had to travel fast, for they would meet a grisly fate if they didn't return by sundown.

         I was relieved that Father was part of the clean-up group today.  While Mother and Lily went around the cottage gathering shingles and lumber, I helped Father by raking broken nails and bits of wood into piles for him to shovel into a wheelbarrow.  Once the wheelbarrow was full, we pushed it to one of the many huge pits dug outside the village for holding garbage.

         When we returned home, Mother was working by herself.  Father looked around and asked her, "Where is Lily?"

         Mother set the long piece of wood she was carrying onto a pile of lumber.  "She went to check on Charlotte."

         Charlotte was the village healer.  She had come here a few months after the kynols appeared and moved into a cottage that once belonged to someone who tried to escape from the village.  Everyone thought she was crazy to live in a place like ours, but Charlotte's knowledge of medicine soon earned her the position of village healer, the previous one having been one of the kynols' first victims.  Charlotte could remedy anything from a broken finger to a feverous woman in the throes of childbirth.  She had even cured Mother when she was having deep stomach pangs and vomiting blood while pregnant with Lily. 

         "Hmph," Father grunted.  "There's work to be done here.  She should be helping her family, not wasting her time over at that woman's house.  It isn't safe."

         "Oh, nonsense," Mother said.  "Charlotte adores Lily."  She wiped her hand across her sweaty forehead.  "But I suppose she has been gone long enough."  She turned to me.  "Margaret, would you be a dear and go fetch Lily?"

         I nodded, then raced down the street.  As I turned down the lane that led to the western part of town, I thought about what other villagers had said about Charlotte.  Those who had been treated by her respected her greatly, but there were some people, like Father, who believed she practiced dark magic.  They suspected Charlotte had cast a spell that prevented her from falling prey to the kynols, swearing that they had seen her walking into the forest moments after sunset.  Some of them even went so far as to claim that she controlled the kynols.  They pointed out that her cottage only suffered minor damage during the attacks.  But no one would directly ask her about these things, so the rumors persisted.

         I didn't know quite what to believe.  I was grateful to her because she had saved Mother and Lily, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she would one day expect our family to give her something as payment.   

         I was four cottages away from Charlotte's home when I heard something moving behind me.  I spun around to see a billowy shape coming down the street.  My legs froze and my heart sped up when I saw that the impossible had come true—a kynol was out in the daytime!

         Then I realized, to my relief, that the thing was not a monster, but a tall man wearing a bowl-shaped hat and a high-collared blue coat.  In his left arm he cradled a head-sized object that was hidden under a green cloth.  He stopped a few feet from me and removed his hat.  Beneath his thick blond hair was a handsome face.

         "Pardon me, young lady," he said with a slight twinkle in his bright blue eyes.  "I was wondering if you could help me."

         "C-certainly," I said, feeling my heartbeat slow to normal.  "What can I do for you?"

         "I arrived just this morning, and I'm trying to find the dwelling place of the village leader.  That is, if your village has a leader of some kind."

         I was shocked.  No one except Charlotte had come here since our imprisonment began, because those who entered the village were forced to share our misery.

         "Yes, we do.  Mayor Frederick."  I turned and pointed.  "Take a left at the end of this street.  You'll see a big cottage by the well.  That's where he lives."

         "Excellent.  Thank you very much, my dear." 

         He glided past me and headed down the street.  As I watched him disappear around the corner, I wondered why he had come here.  Maybe he was suicidal.  Maybe he was an escaped criminal who thought he could hide here.  But if he was either, why would he want to see Mayor Frederick?  Maybe he had something important to tell Frederick.  Maybe, just maybe, he had come here to help us!  Maybe he had a powerful weapon under that cloth that would kill all the kynols in the blink of an eye!  Then we would all be free, and—

         I shook my head to bring me back to reality.  The man could not defeat the kynols.  As Father had said, our village would only be free once the last of us was dead. 

         With that awful thought looming in my head, I continued on to Charlotte's cottage and gently knocked on the front door.  I heard shuffle, thump, shuffle, thump, and then the door opened.  Charlotte ducked her head so she could fit in the doorway.  She was not pretty—her dull blond hair surrounded a face marred by dark scars, and her bottom jaw was slightly slanted to the left.  Her dark blue eyes lit up when she saw me.  "Hello, Margaret!"  She displayed a smile that was missing six or seven teeth.

         "Good morning, Ms. Charlotte," I said.  "Is Lily here?"

         "Oh, yes, she is.  She just stopped in to check on me.  Isn't she such a thoughtful girl?"

         Charlotte swung the door completely open, allowing me to enter.  The smell of blossoming flowers and wet dirt hit me as I entered the room.  To my left were four tall shelves packed with plants and flowers that could not be found growing around the village.  The cupboards to my right were stocked with bottles of colored liquids and powders.  Ahead of me were a small fireplace and a table where Lily was sitting, leaning over a flowerpot. 

         I stepped over and lowered my face toward her.  "You have to go," I said, motioning toward the door.  "We have work to finish at home."  I slowly pronounced each word while miming a broom-sweeping motion.

         Lily completely ignored me.  Her attention was focused solely on the withered plant lying in the soil of the pot. 

         "What is she doing?" I asked.

         "You will see," Charlotte answered as she approached my sister.  She walked with a heavy limp in her left foot and used a black walking stick to aid her movement.  She placed her hand in front of Lily.  Lily raised her head.  Charlotte pointed at the pot.  Lily nodded, then clamped her hands onto the pot and slid it toward me.

         "Lily would like to show you something she's been working on for the last few months," Charlotte said.  She put her hand on my shoulder, and goose bumps formed on my skin.  "Watch."

         Lily closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.  Then she opened her eyes and stared at the pot.  She held her left hand in a tight fist over the plant.  Her fingers slowly opened.  As they did, the plant's stem started to straighten.  The bud grew larger, then burst apart into a cluster of yellow leaves that unfurled and stretched outward, stopping only when Lily's hand was completely open.

         "Isn't it beautiful?" Charlotte asked me.  "Do you remember when your mother was sick?  I used that kind of flower to make the medicine to heal her."

         Lily looked up at me, beaming with pride.

         I was amazed by—and a bit scared of—what I had seen.  "What... how did you do that?" I asked.

         "Isn't it fantastic?" Charlotte asked.

         Lily leapt from the table and embraced Charlotte.  Then she took a step back and moved her hands and fingers around her mouth and chest, curling and uncurling her fingers in the way she had been doing at home recently.     

         "What is she doing with her hands?" I asked.

         "She's telling me how excited she is," Charlotte said.  She responded to my sister with a series of similar gestures.  "And I'm congratulating her on her success."

         I felt a jab of jealously that the two of them had discovered a way to "talk" that seemed better than our way.

         "I'm taking Lily home," I declared.  "She has to help clean up the mess from the attack."

         Charlotte nodded.  She extended her hand toward the door.  Lily gave her a hug and headed outside.

         As I moved to follow her, Charlotte grabbed my arm to stop me.  "Are you aware of what Lily demonstrated today?"

         The tightness of Charlotte's grip frightened me.  "W-well, it looks like she brought that plant back to life."

         "Precisely.  And in doing so, your sister has shown that a person doesn't need to speak in order to use a spell."

         A chill ran down my spine.  "A spell?  You mean magic?"

         "Precisely.  Your sister has a great power inside of her, a power so strong that she can summon it without using her voice.  All she has to do is completely concentrate on what she wants and it will happen."

         Now, I wanted to yank free of her hand and run away.  I couldn't deal with what she was telling me: Lily had the ability to use magic.  That meant she could become a witch—a witch like the one who had cursed our village.

         Charlotte leaned down so her face was level with mine.  "Lily is a special girl," she said, a bit of drool collecting in the left corner of her mouth.  "You're very lucky to have her for a sister."

         "Yeah, I guess I am," I replied.  My discomfort was making my stomach ache.

         "I envy the two of you.  I never had any siblings growing up.  When I see how close the two of you are, I think about what I never got to experience."  She released her hold on me.  "But it's best not to think about what never was.  No, it is far more important that I focus on the present and be thankful that I have been given this time to help others with my skills." 

         As she spoke, Charlotte seemed to daze off and lose herself in her thoughts.  I bit my lip, then said, "Well, I've got to get back home.  Have a nice day." 

         I ran outside.  I spotted my sister, who was skipping down the street, and hurried after her.  Now that I was out of Charlotte's home, I could forget what I had just seen.  I could look at my stick-limbed sister and know she couldn't use magic or craft spells and curses.  She and Charlotte had just played some kind of trick on me.  I ignored the voice in my head that was asking how they had done it.  I had other things to worry about, like getting home and helping Father and Mother. 

         We turned onto the street leading to our cottage and saw some villagers moving ahead of us.  We saw our parents were among them and quickly joined the group.

         "What's going on?" I asked.

         "The Shaullers," Father replied, his voice emotionless. 

         I knew what that meant.  Lily and I joined the crowd as it moved to the eastern side of town.  The Shaullers' home was completely gutted.  The roof had caved in and huge holes were gouged into the walls.  The front door was missing.  I shivered, thinking back to last night and how our own door had almost been battered in.

         The men of the group searched the cottage's interior.  All they found of the family were some blood-covered bones and strips of clothing. 

         Everyone gathered in front of the cottage, closed their eyes, and bowed their head.  Mother said a prayer for the family.  Once she was done, everyone said, "Amen."  Then we opened our eyes, raised our heads, and scavenged the cottage for shingles and wood.

         "What is the meaning of this?" Mrs. Gethfrey bellowed during the meeting that Mayor Frederick called less than an hour later.  Her eyes flashed with fury as she shook her scrawny fist in the air.  "Why did you call us in from our duties?"

         Similar questions were shouted by other members of the crowd assembled in the town hall.  Even I added my voice to the enraged chorus that aimed itself at Frederick, because he was putting our lives at stake by wasting the precious time we needed to get ready.

         The mayor waved his arms in the air, trying to calm everyone.  His gaunt face was covered with sweat, and he continuously dabbed at his forehead with a damp handkerchief.  "Please, I must ask for some order," he said from the dais.  "We cannot conduct this meeting unless we have some order!"

         Frederick had been the mayor of our village since before I was born.  Father said that he wanted to quit, but he would not do so until someone else stepped up to take charge.  Frederick felt the village needed a leader to get us through this crisis, but over the years his courage and determination had faded away, just like almost everyone else's had.  Now, he had doomed himself to being mayor until the day he died.

         "Will everyone please be quiet?" Frederick pleaded.  "The sooner we get this meeting over with, the sooner we can get back to work!"

         The crowd lowered its volume, but there were still some angry rumblings. 

         "Thank you.  Now, I have called this meeting because I received a note on my doorstep this morning regarding the extermination of the kynols, and—"

         "You called us here because someone left you a note?" Mrs. Gethfrey spat.

         Frederick raised his hands as if he were fending off a punch.  "I know we must complete our tasks by sundown, but I felt that this warranted our attention—"

         "The only thing that warrants our attention is our survival," Mrs. Gethfrey said.  Like most of the other townspeople, she had suffered a personal loss.  Four years ago her husband had gone to a nearby village to trade crops for lumber.  He never made it back that night.  The next morning the remains of his horse and cart were found just a few hundred yards from the village.  Of him there was no trace. 

         "I agree wholeheartedly," Frederick said, "but the note mentioned a way to get rid of the kynols, so I—"

         "And what did it suggest, huh?" Mrs. Gethfrey asked.  "Weapons?  Fire?  Poison?  Holy water?  We've tried all those, and the kynols are still here!"

         "The kynols aren't invincible," said a balding man with a thick gray mustache.  "We've hacked them with axes and knives.  They can die!"

         "That's true, Mr. Leltzin," the mayor said.  "The problem is that there are just too many of them for us to completely eradicate."  He held the handkerchief to his right temple.  "And at the rate we're losing our friends, we won't be able to hold out much longer."

         The door to the hall swung open.

         "You will be fine," a man said.  My ears perked up, for the voice was familiar.  "Your problems will soon be over."

         Everyone fell silent and looked to the back of the room.   I was surprised to see the man with the blue coat standing in the doorway, the cloth-covered item nestled under his arm. 

         "Who are you?" Mrs. Gethfrey asked.

         "I am Arthur," the man replied as he removed his hat.  "I am the one who left the note asking that all of you be summoned here.  I have brought your salvation."

         "Are you a demon slayer or something?"

         "No, madam, I am not."

         "Then you shouldn't have come here.  Like I said, we've tried everything to kill the kynols.  Nothing can stop those monsters."

         "Nothing you can do, anyway."

         Looks of confusion came across everyone's face. 

         Mayor Frederick said, "Mister, um, Arthur, would you please explain what you have in mind?"

         "Of course, Mr. Mayor."  Arthur calmly walked onto the platform.  "Dear citizens, I have brought with me the key to your freedom." 

         He pulled away the cloth to reveal a small white cage.  Inside of it was the most bizarre creature I had ever seen.  Its body was shaped like a snake's, but its blue skin was smooth and almost see-through.  Above its slender, pointed beak was a single, solid-blue eye.  About halfway down its body was a pair of fan-shaped wings, and below that were two legs that resembled stubby tendrils.

         The crowd gasped in awe. 

         "What is it?" Mrs. Gethfrey asked.

         "This is Auradron," Arthur replied.  "She is a remarkable creature I came across during my travels through the Far East."  He opened the cage.  Auradron cooed as she fluttered into the air.  She gracefully draped herself across Arthur's shoulders, then purred as she gently nudged his neck.

         "Fascinating," Frederick said.  "But how is that small creature supposed to drive away the kynols?"

         Arthur stroked Auradron's back.  "Mr. Mayor, she will not drive away the kynols."

         "She won't?  But you said she would get rid of them."

         "That is correct.  She will slaughter them."

         Frederick's mouth dropped.  "But... but... "

         "In a span of one week, all of the kynols will be decimated.  You will never need to fear them again."

         The townspeople were speechless.  Then Mrs. Gethfrey blurted, "That's impossible!  How is that thing supposed to kill the kynols?"

         "Yeah!" Mr. Leltzin put in.  "That thing doesn't look like it could kill a mouse!"

         "Do you think our situation is some sort of joke!" another person cried.  "Did you think it would be funny to come here and waste our time like this?"

         "Well, now he's stuck here with us," someone replied.  "And if the kynols don't kill him, I will!"                             

         More and more villagers shouted terrible threats and insults, but Arthur kept his composure.  "One week," he repeated against the vocal barrage.  "She will start tonight."  He whistled.  Auradron floated back into her cage.  Arthur shut it and replaced the green cloth.  Everyone glared at the man as he strolled out of the hall.

         "Do you believe what he said?" Mother asked Father that evening as he closed and locked the cottage door.

         "Not in the least," he answered.  "There's no way a tiny creature like that could ever kill a horde of murderous hell-beasts."

         I sighed.  I desperately wanted to believe that Arthur and Auradron would release us from the kynols, but deep down I knew Father was right.  Auradron was shorter than a man's arm and had no teeth, claws, or anything else it could use to defend itself against the kynols, much less kill them.  

         That night, the kynols descended while we were still eating supper.  Mother, Lily and I huddled under the table as Father stood guard.  The next morning we were awakened by Father unbolting the door.  He carefully pushed it open and peered outside.  He glanced down, and in a hoarse whisper said, "Come here."

         Mother walked up to his side and let out a gasp.  I took Lily by the hand, and together we moved toward our parents.  They stepped aside and let us look.

         A dead kynol lay on our doorstep.

         Lily clenched my hand.

         My body went numb with shock.

         Although I had seen the bodies of slain kynols being burned by the townspeople before, I had never actually been this close to one of the demons.  The bluish-gray creature was about as long as I was tall, with most of its length being a slender tail.  Each of its wings was tipped with two claws.  It had a pair of slender legs that ended in sharp talons.  A short horn adorned its beak-like mouth.  On the back of the kynol's head were two tube-shaped crests, one above the other, that were connected by a thin piece of skin.  The carcass was shriveled up, as if the creature had been drained of all its blood—or whatever fluid flowed through its veins.

         "It's hideous," I said in disgust.

         "Only the devil himself could spawn something this vile," Father said.  He grabbed his ax and shoved the kynol off the doorstep.  We all went outside.  Another dead kynol lay about ten feet from our home.  Two cottages down, a man cried out in surprise when he walked out and found a kynol corpse in his yard.  Within an hour, fourteen more kynols were discovered throughout the village. 

         Soon everyone was talking about the deaths. 

         "It must have been Auradron."

         "But how could that thing kill so many?"

         "Yeah, it was so small and looked so harmless!"

         "Who knows, and who cares?  This is incredible!  Let's not curse our good fortune by doubting Auradron!"

         Everyone went about cleaning up the damage and preparing for the next attack, but today there was an air of joy throughout the town as people whistled and sang while doing their work.  Mrs. Gethfrey and a few of her neighbors tried to find Arthur so they could learn if Auradron was responsible and, if so, how she had done it.  But Arthur had apparently vanished.

         That evening, my family listened intently as the kynols descended upon the village. 

         "Did you hear that scream?" Father asked, his eyes wide with excitement.  "That's a kynol meeting its end.  That's the sound of Auradron saving us!"

         We stayed up all night, despite the heaviness of our eyelids.  As soon as the swarm left, we threw open the door.

         "Look at that," Father said, awestruck.

         Auradron had struck again.

         Twenty-nine kynols that morning. 

         Fifty-one the next morning. 

         Almost one hundred the morning after that. 

         As the days went by, our yards and streets were packed with bodies.  Cartloads of carcasses were hauled out and burned in the garbage pits.  At night, our family spoke during supper, and when the kynols came their attacks weren't as destructive as they had been.  This meant that people spent less time repairing cottages and cleaning streets and more time harvesting and selling crops.  No time was spent mourning our dead, for the kynols had not taken any victims since Auradron's arrival.  People moved and spoke with more energy and enthusiasm, the color in their cheeks started to reappear, and the feeling of despair over the town began to wane.

         Lily visited Charlotte's cottage less frequently now because she and I would spend our days playing in the fields or helping Mother tend her garden.  Sometimes, when our parents were over chatting with the neighbors, we would sneak off into the forest to chase squirrels and rabbits.  The animals always seemed to venture from their holes whenever we passed through the underbrush.  Instead of running after the creatures, Lily would just sit down and wait for the animals to come to her.  Once they were a few inches away, she would leap up and take off skipping through the trees, with me and the squirrels and rabbits close behind.

         Sharing this time with my sister gave me great joy, not only because we were actually able to have carefree moments during the day, but also because it somehow reassured me that she could never become an evil, bitter witch.  Charlotte was crazy when she had told me Lily had magical powers.  My sister was just a normal, happy girl.

         Exactly one week after Arthur and his pet had appeared, my family and I waited around the table after supper.  We had been unable to eat much because we were already filled with anticipation. 

         "Tonight is the last night," Father said, his eyes gleaming.  "If Arthur's promise holds true, tonight is the final night we will be plagued by the kynols."

         "Now do you see why you must never give up hope?" Mother said to Father and me.

         "I'm sorry I never listened to you, dear," Father said.  He leaned over and kissed her.  "I'm glad you carried enough hope for all of us."

         An hour after sunset, and no noise.  Two hours, and still nothing.  We laid in our beds and slept - we actually closed our eyes tight and had dreams that were happy and uninterrupted.  When we went out onto the doorstep the next morning, there was no debris to be cleaned, no damage to be repaired, no kynol bodies to be burned. 

         "It's over," Father said to us.  He put his arm around Mother's waist.  "The night has been returned to us."  A tear trickled down his left cheek. 

         Lily and I embraced our parents.   I looked up at Mother.  "And one day Lily and I will share our smiles with the world."

         She grinned, then started to sob tears of joy.

         A celebration was held.  Food and drink were dispensed freely throughout the village.  Instruments that had been put away almost a decade ago were taken out, cleaned, and played for people who gathered in the street to dance.  Everyone attended a special meeting that was held shortly before sundown.  The mood was drastically different from the one at the last assembly as people shook hands, laughed, and told merry stories and jokes. 

         Mayor Frederick, his face beaming and his handkerchief nowhere in sight, stood at the podium.  Instead of sweat, he now gushed relief and delight.  "My friends, we have much to be thankful for.  The kynol menace has been eliminated!"

         The hall shook with the crowd's explosive cheer.

         The mayor continued.  "I hope Arthur is here to accept our words of gratitude."

         The door to the hall opened.  "I am," Arthur said.

         Everyone clapped and whistled as he again made his way to the front of the hall.  His hands were planted in his coat pockets, as he did not have the cage with him.  He passed by the townspeople and received shouts of praise and appreciation.  I wished I was sitting near the aisle so I could jump up and hug him.

         "I cannot express the joy we all feel today," the mayor said, shaking Arthur's hands.  "You saved us!"

         "I simply brought Auradron here, Mr. Mayor.  It was she who did all the dangerous work."

         "Where is she?  We want our celebrated heroine to know how grateful we are!"

         "She is sleeping, Mr. Mayor.  Slaying all those kynols wore her out."

         "I must admit that many of us were skeptical that she could perform such a feat.  Just how did she manage to kill them all?"

         "She was driven by a desire to aid those in need," Arthur answered.  "A desire that we should all have within our hearts.  If a person needs our help, we should not hesitate to provide that help, regardless of the circumstances."  He leaned in toward Frederick.  "Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Mayor?"

         "Er, yes, of course we should."  Frederick nervously pulled at his shirt collar, then smiled.  "Now then, what would you like as payment for your heroic deed?"

         "Payment?  Mr. Mayor, I do not want any payment."

         People gasped in surprise.  Frederick's mouth dropped.  "But you certainly deserve compensation for saving us.  There must be something—"

         "Mr. Mayor, I did not save your village because I wanted a reward."

         "Well, um, why did you do it?"

         "I did it because of the impact your village made on my father's life.  He visited this place many, many years ago, and during my childhood he spoke of this village quite frequently.  After his death, I decided to visit this wonderful place that had changed my father's life."

         Frederick smiled.  "I am pleased, and, well, flattered to hear that our village touched someone so deeply."

         "You have no idea how deeply," Arthur said.  "But that is not the only reason I came here.  I also wanted to liberate this village from the witch's curse.  My father also fell victim to a witch's magic, and when he died I took it upon myself to search out dark magic in all its forms and, with Auradron's help, eliminate it from our land!"

         "Death to all witches!" some villagers cried.  "No more spells!  No more curses!" others chanted.

         Their words stirred a feeling of dread inside me.  I cast a nervous glance at my sister.  Then I scolded myself.  I already knew that Lily was not and would never be a witch, so what was I worried about?

         Arthur faced the audience.  "Seeing the look of joy on everyone's face—and knowing that Auradron and I helped bring that joy— is payment enough for me."  He looked into the crowd.  His vibrant eyes seemed to focus on me as he said, "And knowing that your children will never be frightened of the night again is the greatest reward of all."

         "Well, sir," Frederick said, "I want to personally invite you to attend our celebration.  It will last all night long!"

         A festive "Hurrah!" exploded from the crowd.

         Arthur bowed.  "I thank you, Mr. Mayor, but I must make sure Auradron has a smooth recovery."

         "Is there anything we can do for her?"

         "She is recuperating at a rapid pace and should be better soon, but I thank you for your generosity."

         "It's the least we can do for our savior!"

         "We'd do anything to help Auradron!" Mrs. Gethfrey shouted.

         "Anything at all," Mr. Leltzin seconded.

         "I'm glad to hear that," Arthur said, grinning at the audience.  "Perhaps you will be taken up on that offer in the near future.  But at the moment I must take my leave.  I wish you all happiness and long life, and hope that you will never again be beset with trouble or woe."

         Everyone erupted into applause as Arthur left the hall.

         As dusk approached, everyone gathered on the tallest hill outside the village to watch the sun set.  Before today, the event had always signaled the beginning of a horrendous night.  But now, as we watched the sky fill with wondrous shades of red and yellow and pink, we knew that it meant the promise of an actual life for all of us—a life of traveling outside the village, of exploring the world around us, of meeting new people and seeing magnificent sights.

         Once the sun slipped beneath the horizon, the adults went back to the village to continue their festival of feasting, drinking, and dancing.  Meanwhile, the children went to play in a wide meadow between the village and the forest.  Lily was by my side as we entered the tall grass.  She squeaked excitedly and pointed.  The air was filled with fireflies, their bodies flickering like tiny candles.  Lily looked at me, and I nodded.  She rushed ahead and tried to catch the bugs.  The lights led her toward the far edge of the meadow, where the forest began. 

         I thought about following Lily, but then I saw the rest of the children laughing and singing and running around, and I couldn't resist joining them.  I didn't care how dirty my clothes got or how messy my hair became.  I never thought it was possible to have this much fun!

         Later, all the children lay down in the grass to stare up at the stars.  A cool evening breeze passed through the meadow, wrapping us in quiet satisfaction.  It was as if we had spent our lives in a jar and the lid had now popped off, allowing us to truly experience the magic of the night.

         Eventually the time came when our parents started calling for us.  Reluctantly, the children wandered home.  I stood and looked around for Lily.

         She was gone.

         I broke into a cold sweat as panic gripped my heart.  Then I remembered that she had been chasing fireflies along the edge of the forest, so I set off in the direction of the trees.  As I got closer, I thought I saw someone moving around in the shadows.  The person faced me for a moment before moving deeper into the woods.

         I frowned.  "Who's there?" I called.  I stepped into the trees and peered into the darkness.  I couldn't see anyone now.  My blood went cold.  I had to find Lily now, before that person— 

         Something touched my shoulder.

         I spun around, my heart racing and my fists clenched.  I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was Lily. 

         "There you are," I muttered.  "It's time to—" 

         I was struck dumb by the sight of hundreds of fireflies hovering around my sister, bathing her in their twinkling lights.  Lily noticed the astonished look on my face and giggled.  She held up her right index finger.  A dozen fireflies instantly alighted on it.  She brought her finger up to her nose.  The insects' lights illuminated her eyes, giving them an eerie shine.   

         "No more!" I cried.  I snatched her hand, sending the insects scurrying back into the sky.  I swept my arm ahead of me as I pulled Lily in the direction of the village, scattering the fireflies out of our way.  They fluttered about for a moment, then drifted upward to be lost among the lights of the stars.

         I faced Lily.  "Don't do that again," I said.  She looked hurt and confused, and with good reason—to her, I had no reason to be so upset.  But I was scared.  I didn't know for certain if Lily had intentionally attracted the insects to her, but I knew they had acted that way because of her... her power.

         Lily is a special girl, echoed Charlotte's voice.  You're very lucky to have her for a sister.

         As Lily and I left the meadow, I vowed that I would tell Father and Mother what I had seen Lily do to the flower last week.  Then I realized that they might forbid Lily from seeing Charlotte again.  I was worried about my sister, but I also knew how close she was to Charlotte.  I thought over the matter some more, and finally decided that I would talk to Charlotte tomorrow and find out for myself what was going on.  Maybe she would know a way to remove Lily's power and make her normal. 

         Once I made that decision, my mind swirled with numerous questions concerning the figure in the forest.  Who had it been?  Another child?  If so, why had whoever it was run from me?  Was he or she playing a game with me and I didn't realize it?  If that was the case, shouldn't the person have come out of the forest when everyone else departed?

         All questions left my mind the moment we returned to our cottage.  I excitedly told my parents about the fun we'd had in the meadow, leaving out the parts about the strange figure I had seen and Lily's "trick" with the fireflies.  Then it was time for bed.

         I crawled under my blanket and rested my head on my pillow.  The window to the bedroom was open, and a gentle summer breeze carried me toward sleep.  Just before I actually fell asleep, I heard a noise from outside.  I shot up, my eyes wide and my mouth dry.  Then I realized that the sound was not a kynol's cry, and relaxed a little.  I listened.  A gentle coo caressed my ear.  Mingled with it was a mellow pounding, rhythmic as a heartbeat.  There was another sound, too, something that I couldn't quite...

         Jolts of burning pain shot through my head.  The colors of the room swirled and blended.  I felt feverish as a misty haze clouded my vision.  Without any thought or reason, I pulled the blanket off me and got out of bed.  I was aware of Lily staring at me.  I wanted to scream at her for help, but the thought never left my mind.  I was a prisoner inside my own body.  I left the room and walked out of our cottage.  I stepped into the street, where all of the other children had gathered.  We gazed skyward as Auradron flew toward the village.

         She had changed drastically since the first time we had seen her.  Her vast gossamer wings held aloft her body, which was now longer than a line of twenty horses.  Three slender horns protruded from the back of her head.  A red opal adorned the top of her beak.  The skin over her chest and abdomen was clear, allowing me to see her heart beating in the center of her coiled innards.  Her tubular legs and tail were tipped with clusters of slim tendrils.

         Auradron hovered over us, producing the coo that had brought us under her control.  I heard shouts of surprise and alarm, and watched as everyone's parents ran into the street.  "Mother!  Father!" my mind bawled, but my mouth remained clenched shut.

         Auradron's coo rose into an ear-shattering hiss as a ray of blue light shot from her beak-opal and passed over the adults.  They all dropped to the street.  Auradron's hiss returned to a coo as she moved away from the village and toward the forest.  The children followed.

         We marched through the meadow and into the woods.  After several moments we came to an area where some uprooted tress had been arranged into a nest filled with silvery, almost see-through eggs, each larger than my head.  As the children formed a circle around the nest, I saw slender shapes squirming inside the eggs.

         Someone grabbed me from behind and spun me around.  I faced my terrified sister.  She shook me violently and pinched my cheek, but I could do nothing to respond.  She pulled her fist back and punched me in the face.  A sharp knife of pain pierced the veil shrouding my mind, and I crumpled to the ground.  Lily put her hand on my back as I spat blood into the grass.  I turned over.

         "I'm all right," I said, trying to smile in reassurance.  I spat a few more times, then stood.  "Come on.  We need to get help."  I grabbed her hand and turned to leave.

         And ran into Arthur.

         "What do we have here?" he asked.  "Two children who have escaped the effects of Auradron's hypnotic coo, hmm?"

         "What is going on here?" I asked.

         "You are about to witness a miracle of nature," he said, motioning to the eggs.  "Auradron's children are about to hatch.  The babies will need fresh blood immediately or else they will die."  He smiled.  "Do you know where that blood will come from?"

         I looked at all the children, standing still as statues.  "No!  You can't do that!"

         "Of course I can.  I saved your village, thus preserving your lives for this specific purpose."

         My mind reeled with confusion.  "But you said you did it because of your father, and because you hate witches, and—"

         "You're quite right, my dear.  And those are the reasons you must die."

         "I don't understand!"

         "But you do.  You must know the story of the kynols."

         I nodded.

         "It may interest you to know that the stranger in the forest was my father."

         "Your father was the evil murderer?" I blurted without considering how Arthur would respond.

         "He was not a murderer!"  Arthur balled his hands into fists.  His calm, controlled voice filled with bitterness and hatred as he said, "That's a lie you barbarians concocted to justify how you mistreated him!"  He stopped, took in a deep breath.  "But you weren't there when it happened, were you?  You've only heard horribly inaccurate fabrications.  Well, now you will learn the truth.  My father was a poor, homeless man who came here hoping to start a new life.  As he wandered through this forest, he met a woman who offered him the comforts of her cottage.  My father did not know that the woman was a witch.  Once he was inside her home, she drugged him with one of her magical concoctions and molested him.  Humiliated, he came to the village seeking help.  When the people learned what had happened, they attacked him!  They drove a defenseless man out of their midst!"

         As he spoke, Arthur closed in on Lily and me, forcing us back toward the nest.  My eyes darted around, searching for a route of escape.

         "After he fled from your wretched village," Arthur continued, "he met a peasant woman who tended to his wounds.  They went to another land far, far from here, where they married and had me.  But my father was always haunted by the memory of what happened here.  He saw the witch's eyes burning in the dark corners of every room in which he stood.  When the wind coursed through the trees, he heard her voice offering the comforts of a hot meal and a warm bed.  And whenever a child laughed, his ears filled with her shrieks of ecstasy." 

         Arthur bowed his head.  "One day he and I were out walking through the forest.  He made me swear that I would take vengeance against those who had ruined his life and the lives of his loved ones.  When I agreed, he pulled out a knife and stabbed himself in the heart." 

         Arthur reached into his coat and withdrew a long dagger.  He laid its blade in his open palm and gazed sorrowfully at it.  "I held my father as the life drained from his body.  And all I could do was think about my promise.  I spent years planning my revenge, researching all the possible ways I could exact vengeance upon an entire populace.  One day, I came across an ancient manuscript that described a unique creature of phenomenal power."  He looked up at Auradron.  "To bring her under my control, I had to be the first to give her blood.  For six years I traveled the world until I found the mystical creature's nest, from which I stole an egg.  The moment the egg hatched, I used my father's dagger to open my palm and provide the infant Auradron with the precious fluid she needed to survive."  He smiled at her.  "She has become my instrument of vengeance.  And tonight we shall end my lifetime of misery."

         As Arthur affectionately stared at his pet, Lily squeezed my hand and slightly tilted her head to the left.  It took me a moment to see what she was trying to show me: a clear, dark path into the forest.    

         Auradron gurgled and snaked her tail toward the nest.  The eggs were quivering.

         "I understand, my dear."  Arthur approached us.  "Auradron will now bathe her offspring in a ray of light, giving them the strength needed to break from their eggs.  Then they will begin the feast."  He reached for me.  "And you will be their first meal!"

         "No!" I screamed.  Lily and I bolted into the trees.

         "Auradron, stop them!" Arthur ordered.

         A massive gust of wind almost swept us off our feet as the creature soared over us.  Her tail lashed out, snapping the tops off dozens of trees.  I gazed up at Auradron's single blue eye and screamed as she stretched her tendril-toes toward us.  Lily pulled me aside and under the cover of the forest.  The toes shot past me and wrapped around the stump of a tree.  Auradron ripped it from the ground, roots and all.  Lily and I continued to run.  Auradron hissed in annoyance, and the stump came crashing down only a few yards behind us.

         Lily took the lead as we ducked under branches and zigzagged around bushes.  My heart was pounding so hard that I expected it to burst from my chest.  My lungs and legs burned, and I thought I was going to collapse at any moment.

         Thankfully, Lily kept my hand firmly in hers as Auradron tore the forest apart.  I kept my head down, not wanting to risk another look at the monster.  Because of this, I noticed the shingles and broken pieces of lumber that now dotted the forest floor.  The debris formed a trail leading to a cottage that had been smashed to the ground.  As we ran toward it, I realized something dreadful—the only cottage that could be out here was the witch's cottage.  And standing in the midst of the wreckage was—

         "Charlotte!" I cried.

         Startled, she dropped the blanket that she had been tenderly holding to her tear-stained face.  "Lily?  Margaret?  What are you doing here?"

         Before I could answer, a burst of air struck us down.  Charlotte tumbled into a pile of wood as the treetops vanished above us.  A pair of tendrils dropped from above and wrapped around Lily and me.  We were pulled up, up, far above the trees.  Auradron cooed at us, then turned and headed back to the nest.  She set us down beside Arthur.  He seized me and put his dagger to my throat.

         "Are you finished playing games now?" he asked.

         My reply was a long wheeze.  With my strength spent, I could not resist Arthur as he dragged me toward the nest. 

         "Get ready, Auradron!" Arthur called.

         A fierce pounding resounded in my head.  My eyes were focused on Lily, who was hunched over on the ground, catching her breath.  She suddenly sprang up and grabbed Arthur's arm.  Arthur flung her away.  He pushed the edge of the dagger deeper into my throat. 

         "If either of you fail to cooperate, I won't wait for Auradron's children to end your life."

         I stared wide-eyed into the crazed expression on Arthur's face, knowing full well he meant to kill us all one way or another.

         I started to cry.  "We didn't do anything to you!  Why are you going to kill us?"

         "I find it fitting that the son of the man who was attacked by the villagers will now destroy their children.  Your parents will be filled with endless grief because there was nothing they could do to stop me."  He kissed my forehead.  "Don't worry.  It will soon be over."

         "Release the children," a stern voice said.

         Arthur swung around.  He, Lily, and I watched Charlotte emerge from the forest.

         "Don't try to interfere, woman!" Arthur declared, pulling me in front of him.  He made sure she could see the dagger below my chin. 

         Charlotte stopped.  "Something distressing has happened, Arthur.  This evening I went to visit my mother's cottage, as I have done every night since I came to the village.  But it has been demolished.  Do you know who is responsible for that?"

         "I am!  I had Auradron tear the cottage apart because it belonged to the witch!  It was where she committed her heinous crime against my father, and—" Arthur stopped.  I turned my head and saw his face go white.  "But if it belonged to your mother, that means—"

         "Yes, Arthur.  You and I share the same father.  I am your half-sister."

         For a moment, we all stood silent.  Then my aching head wrapped around what Charlotte had said.  "Y-you're the witch's daughter!" I cried.  "But... but you're supposed to be dead!"

         "She soon will be," Arthur said.  "Once I slay her, all traces of the witch's crime will be eliminated.  My father will finally be able to rest in peace."

         Charlotte stepped toward Arthur.  "Let the children go.  They have done nothing to you."

         "I don't care!  They will all pay!"  His chest thumped against my head as his breathing quickened.  "You don't know the pain I had to endure watching my father suffer every day of his life—terrified of every dark place, jumping at every unexpected noise, unable to bear the laughter of his son!  He never stopped dwelling on what your mother and the villagers did to him.  He never lived beyond that night."  His voice lowered.  "It was if I didn't even have a father."

         "You don't think I can sympathize with you?" Charlotte asked resentfully.  "The same villagers who drove your father away tried to kill me as well.  And it was because of them that I couldn't save my mother."  She choked back a sob.  "Every night I visit my former home and think about the life I could have had if the villagers had helped me.  I lost the only person who cared about me!  Don't you think I understand your desire for vengeance?"

         "Y-yes.  You do."  His breathing steadied.  "We could work together, half-sister.  With your magic and my Auradron, we could both have our revenge!"

         I waited for Charlotte to agree.  My world started to spin as bile climbed up my throat.  I wanted to vomit.  Father had been right—Charlotte was evil!  And had she corrupted my sister with that evil?  Would Lily become part of this revenge plot?

         But the anger in Charlotte's voice was gone when she said, "Arthur, I want you to listen to me.  After I was expelled from this land, I learned every dark spell capable of killing a person.  I planned on murdering the villagers one at a time, each of them dying a different, hideous death."

         Arthur chuckled.  "What a perfectly marvelous idea!"

         Charlotte shook her head.  "What I failed to realize was that too much of this vile knowledge ultimately destroys the vessel that contains it—in this case, my mind and body.  I was inflicted with the same illness that took my mother.  By the time I came to the village, I was racked with horrific hallucinations and unbearable pain.  I expected to die on the first doorstep I fell upon.  But then the door opened, and I was greeted by a very young girl and a woman heavy with child.  The mother took me in against her husband's wishes and used the meager resources of their home to heal me, a complete stranger!  Her kindness was so genuine, so pure, that I was inspired to become like her.  I let the dark forces inside me dissipate.  Once I was better, I vowed that I would use my powers to heal instead of hurt.  And now, I want to help you heal, brother."

         Arthur stared at his half-sister.  His face twitched nervously.

         Charlotte's eyes were full of pleading.  "Brother, please, let the children go and come with me.  We have both lost so much in our sufferings, but we can find a way to step out of our parents' shadows and live our own lives!"  She offered him her right hand.  "Vengeance is not the way to cure the pain.  Will you let me teach you how to forgive?"

         Arthur's hands were trembling.  He took in a sharp breath.  "I made a promise to my father."  He turned to Auradron.  "Slay my half-sister, then unleash your brood!"

         Auradron's tendrils extended toward Charlotte.

         Charlotte lowered her head.  "Forgive me, brother," she sighed.  She stood up straight, raised her hands to the sky, and chanted something in a strange tongue. 

         "No you don't!" Arthur cried, tossing me aside.  He raced forward and punched Charlotte in the face.  She collapsed.  "Death to all witches!"  He brandished the dagger.

         Lily rammed into Arthur.  She clung onto his arm and bit his hand.  He dropped the dagger.  "You wretch!" he snarled.  He yanked her hair.  She held on for a few more seconds before letting out a scream.

         Auradron, meanwhile, had withdrawn her tendrils once Arthur got between her and Charlotte.  It seemed that she did not want to risk harming her master, and now hovered over her eggs to protect them.  When I noticed the beast was not a threat, my body again acted without my mind's commands, but this time out of concern for my sister.  I ran toward Arthur.  The glimmer of the dagger caught my attention, and that's what my hand instinctively seized.  I raised the weapon and thrust the blade deep into Arthur's thigh.  He roared as he dropped my sister.

         Lily and I scrambled away.  Then his hand clamped onto my shoulder and he pulled me back.  My feet hit his boot and my legs flew out from under me.  Arthur put his boot on my chest.  He slid the dagger out of his thigh and growled as he raised the blade.  I squirmed under his boot, but his leg kept me pinned.  There was no way for me to escape.  I stopped moving, surrendered to my fate, and took one last look at my sister.

         Lily was crouched down by Charlotte, who was talking to her with her hands.  Lily's eyes widened in shock.  She shook her head and moved her hands in an agitated manner.  Charlotte grabbed my sister's hands and pointed her finger at me.  Lily glanced over, and her eyes filled with terror.  She stood and gazed into the forest.  She clenched her hands into fists and raised them above her head.   Her fingers slowly uncurled. 

         A sour-smelling wind blew through the trees, knocking Arthur to the ground and flinging the dagger into the nearby bushes.  Air came back into my lungs, and I got to my feet as a familiar chatter drifted through the woods.

         "No," I said as a wave of nausea hit my stomach.  "Anything but that..."  

         "What's going on?" Arthur asked as he stood.  He spun around and spotted Lily and Charlotte.  He limped toward them, barking, "What have you done!"

         Charlotte rubbed the side of her jaw.  "My mother's love for me granted her the power to summon a terrific force," she rasped.  "Now Lily's love for her sister has allowed her to do the same."

         The chattering grew louder.  Terror bound my blood and muscles, stopping me from moving in any way.  All I could do was whisper, "Kynols."

         Slender shapes glided on leathery wings through the trees, filling the forest with hungry shrieks.  One demon had its feral eyes locked on me.  It opened its horned beak, revealing a pale tongue that squirmed between rows of pointed teeth.  I could smell the creature's nauseating breath as it bore down on me.  I threw my arms in front of me and waited for the attack....

         Something cawed in front of me.  I lowered my arms and saw the creature, along with its companions, soar above me and toward Auradron.

         "You're a fool, half-sister," Arthur laughed.  "Auradron slew hundreds of those beasts in the village.  What makes you think this swarm can defeat her?"

         "Because the first group of kynols had been summoned to plague the villagers," Charlotte replied.  "They were not expecting something like Auradron.  But these kynols have a new purpose: devour your pet... and you!"

         Arthur cast a frightened gaze at his half-sister while Auradron ascended high into the air.  She fired a ray of red light from her beak-opal.  It slammed into the swarm, killing dozens of kynols.  The creatures continued on.  Auradron fired three more times, but it wasn't enough to stop all the kynols.  They enveloped her, biting and clawing at her smooth skin.  An orange light flowed from Auradron's beak-opal and through her neck, chest, and wings.  Then a wave of light radiated from her body, slaying all the kynols who touched her.  The surviving kynols flew away.  They regrouped, then threw themselves against Auradron's chest and neck.  Auradron tried to shake them off, but their claws and teeth were embedded in her flesh.  Her beak-opal glowed orange.  Some kynols flitted up from her neck and chomped at her beak.  Auradron whipped her head back and forth, trying to dislodge the kynols.

         I looked away from the carnage.  Arthur rushed past me, almost trampling me in his flight.  A winged figure dropped onto him.  He swung his fists against the kynol's beak and eyes.  Then another kynol landed on him, then another.  I clamped my hands over my ears to block out Arthur's last screams of agony.  But his shrieks were nothing in comparison to the earsplitting screech that Auradron released.  I looked up.  The kynols had chewed a deep hole in Auradron's chest.  A river of silver blood oozed from the aperture and down her belly.  More kynols pecked at her beak-opal until it cracked, then exploded in a shower of orange sparks. 

         At that moment the children blinked their eyes and looked around, trying to figure out where they were.

         "Tell the children to leave the clearing!" Charlotte yelled at me.

         I nodded, and hurriedly gathered the children together.  "You're all in great danger!" I said.  "Get back to the village!  Now!"

         At first they stood and stared at me in confusion.  Then they saw Auradron and needed no further explanation.  They bolted out of the clearing.

         Charlotte cried, "Margaret, get away from there!"

         I glanced over my shoulder as I ran from the nest.  The kynols were flying away from Auradron.  The titanic beast hovered over her eggs.  She screamed for the last time, then plunged onto her children.  I stopped and turned away, but still heard blood-chilling crunches and squishes.

         When I mustered the nerve to look again, the kynols had settled on the corpse and were finishing their meal.  As they gulped down the final remains of Auradron, Charlotte moved her hands in front of Lily again.  This time Lily did not hesitate.  She put her right hand to her chest and held out her left hand.  Her fingers slowly curled in toward her palm.  The sour wind returned.  The kynols took flight and vanished into the darkness of the forest.  Lily lowered her hands, and the wind ceased.  

         "It is done," Charlotte said.  "Now it is time to go home."

         Lily helped Charlotte to her feet.  I stared at them, unsure of what to do.

         "What's wrong?" Charlotte asked.

         "Y-you're a witch.  Just like your mother.  A-and you told Lily to summon the kynols."

         "I had no other choice.  The kynols were the only creatures that could defeat Auradron."

         I took a step back.  "If you did it once, you could do it again.  Lily could make the kynols come again and... and.... " Tears formed in my eyes.  "You could kill us all!"

         "I would never do that, and I would never ask Lily to do that either!  I've only used my powers to help our village.  You of all people know that!"

         "Then why didn't you use your powers to send the other kynols away?"

         "I tried, Margaret," she quietly answered.  "I tried for nine years to find the spell that would send the demons away, but the magic my mother used to summon that swarm was too powerful for me to counteract.  I'm sorry."  Her voice grew stronger as she said, "But now they are all gone."

         "How do I know that?  How do I know that you won't summon them again?"

         Charlotte was silent, her eyes downcast.  Finally she said,  "When the woman who helped me told me about the kynols, she regretfully informed me that I was cursed to stay in the village as well.  But she told me not to give into despair, because nothing can silence a heart that beats with hope.  She said as long as my heart kept beating, I would live to see the end of the kynols."

         My mouth dropped.  "The woman who helped you... she was..."

         Charlotte raised her eyes to me.  "Your mother."                          

         "And... and I was there, too?"

         "Yes, but you were very young at the time.  It's no surprise that you don't remember."

         "But Mother never told me that she helped you."

         "Your father probably forbade her from telling anyone that she had saved a witch."

         The forest darkened, and the trees seemed to close in on me.  "I can't believe this," I said.  "You're a witch, but... but you saved Mother and Lily, and so many others...."

         "Not all witches are evil," she said.  "Some of us use our powers for the benefit of those we care about.  I don't want any harm to befall the people of our village."  She smiled faintly.  "Especially the family of the one who changed my life for the better."

         I bit my lip and started to cry.  The sincerity of Charlotte's words had shattered my fears about her and my sister.  I rushed up and wrapped my arms around Charlotte.  She hugged me in return, and Lily put her arms on both of us.  I was immersed in feelings of happiness and security and love.  Then, hand in hand, the three of us headed out of the clearing.  As we went through the forest, I saw tears rolling down Charlotte's face.

         "What's wrong?" I asked her.

         "It's unfortunate that Arthur didn't let me help him," she sniffled.  "I wish it could have ended differently.  It would have been nice to be part of a family again."

         "You'll always be a part of ours," I told her.

         She wiped her hand across her face.  "That... that is wonderful to hear," she whispered.  "Thank you."

         Beams of sunlight crept across the horizon as we reached the edge of the meadow.  We watched the children run down to their parents, who had recovered from Auradron's attack.

         "Today marks the beginning of our true lives," I said. 

         Charlotte told it to my sister.  Lily smiled.  She tapped her chest twice and touched my chest.  I did the same to her.  Then a thought struck me. 

         "Charlotte, can you use your magic to restore Lily's hearing?"

         "I have offered to try, but Lily wants to do it herself."  As she answered me, she conveyed my question and her response to my sister.  Lily nodded and replied.  "When she is ready," Charlotte translated.  "She says that even without her hearing, she loves her world the way it is now."

         I smiled.  "I do, too.  But in the meantime, Charlotte, will you teach me how to speak with her the way you do?"

         Charlotte grinned.  "Of course I will."  

         We watched the sun come up, its bold and beautiful light promising the start of a wonderful future.  I imagined the day when I would tell my children this story—a tale of terror, revenge, magic, and, above all else, hope. 

         And I would tell it to them as we sat outside, watching the sun set and waiting for the stars to appear in the night sky.

 

 

Copyright 2005, Justin R. Lawfer

Justin R. Lawfer is a recent graduate of Edgewood College in the city of Madison, WI, where he currently resides.  His fantasy stories, which include "Legacies," "Issues of Discussion," "Jacob and the Sorceress's Daughter," and "The Cat and the Monster," have appeared on www.alienskinmag.com, www.palaceofreason.com, and www.planetmag.com, and in the print magazine The Unknown Writer, respectively.  He also wrote "For Appearances' Sake," which was published in Issue 15 of Hadrosaur Tales.  He is a lover of fantasy tales and giant monster movies. 

 

 

Cover: "It's About Time"

Bill Snodgrass

Copyright 2005

Bill Snodgrass is on the editorial team of The Sword Review, where he is Editor, and is the Executive Director of Double-Edged Publishing.  When circumstances dictate, Bill has been known to create cover art for this publication in the past.