XXXVII - The Transformation
Vlad rushed to Avice’s forge with a speed that he did not know he still possessed. He made his way inside just as the sun began to lose its battle with the empowering night. He passed Elpis resting in her corner and approached Avice, who had her back to him, and who was hard at work hammering away at a sword atop her anvil. The clang of hammer against metal echoed through the forge as he drew closer to his old friend.
“I was incorrect about Miss Cook,” he said.
She did not turn to face him, and instead continued her work. “As I’ve tried telling you for days now.”
He looked around for his apprentice. “Where is Night Owl? She and I must prepare, and we must do so in a place where Captain Godwin and his men cannot find us.”
“Angered the dragon one too many times, did you? This does not surprise me in the slightest, Ibis.”
“Chide me all you like once the lycanthrope is slain,” he said, “but for now I must take my apprentice and go. Where is she?”
“She and Finnian are gone,” the blacksmith explained. “They’ve taken my catalogue of monsters and their weaknesses. Most likely they’ve gone into the swamp outside of the village in search of wolfsbane.”
“Then we must go after them,” Vlad said. “The lycanthrope could very well be out there as we speak, preparing to transform. Our apprentices are in grave danger.”
Avice ceased hammering at her would-be sword; she stuck the molten blade into a nearby barrel of water and placed the hammer on top of the anvil. Still not turning to face him, she spoke. “If they are out there together, then I’m afraid it is already too late.”
Her words made him feel cold. “What are you saying, Avice?”
At last she turned to face him, her countenance as grim as the darkness that swallowed the last breaths of the dying sun. The moon held dominion now, and its mighty luster cast the world in an eerie, bluish glow. “I am sure that you already know very well what I’m saying, Vlad Albescu.”
The two of them allowed her words to linger in the frigid air for what felt like a dozen eternities. At long last, Vlad sighed. When he spoke, his words felt heavy leaving his throat. “So it is true, then. I had a sneaking suspicion that this was the case, but I did not want to believe it. And so I desperately pursued other avenues, ignoring the one that lay open and obvious right before me.
“I admit I was momentarily confused when I realized that Miss Cook could not have been the one to pen that letter. The handwriting matched so closely, after all. But I suppose if anybody would be able to forge her penmanship, it would be the woman who has known her since she was a young girl, and who has even spent time as her tutor. You may have even dug up some of her old writings that you used as a reference.”
“I told you that she had not written that letter,” Avice said. “If only you had known just how certain I was of that fact.”
“Yes, I suppose nobody could have been quite as certain as you,” There was a pause before he spoke again. “I am going after them.”
“You know I cannot allow you to do that, Ibis,” she said. “It is a shame. I’ve taken quite a liking to that apprentice of yours, but I cannot abide you harming my own. I told you that your selfishness in taking her on would lead to her death. That makes two more instances in which you would have done well to listen to me.”
“Stand down, Avice,” Vlad said, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. “I will not hesitate to do what I must, should you force my hand.”
“Do what you must, then, Vlad Albescu.” Avice mirrored him, reaching for the handle of her war hammer which rested on a shelf near her anvil. “It matters not. I have already told you that you are far too late to make a difference.”
___
His transformation was more horrific than Sybil ever could have imagined. She knew the memory of that sinister scene would join the countless others that haunted her nightmares, assuming she lived long enough to visit the dream world again. Of this, she had her doubts.
Finn’s body began to rapidly expand, his muscles tearing and reforming over and over again as thick, brown fur sprouted up like a forest all over his quivering flesh. His face elongated into a terrible, snarling snout as his shrill screams transmuted into guttural growls, his teeth lengthening and sharpening so that his mouth became a chamber filled with deadly, whetted knives. They complemented the daggers that protruded out of either hand and foot, themselves not spared the warping effects of the transformation. As his form grew, sprouting to nearly double Sybil’s height, his expanding body tore his clothes to sunders, which fell as a ruined pile to the ground; a single scrap temporarily clung to his newly burgeoned tale, but it fell away with a single, swift whip of the bushy appendage.
The werewolf stood hunched on the opposite side of the raging blaze, its body baptised in the dense shadows birthed by the flame. At first it did not seem to notice the girl standing so terrifyingly close to it, her body petrified with the influence of abject terror. But then, with a deep growl and a single snort from its two cavernous nostrils, its breath briefly crystalizing in the winter air, the beast turned its white, angry eyes upon her.
Sybil wanted to take another step backwards, but she couldn’t; in fact, she could no longer move at all. She only vaguely noticed as the candle slipped from her loosening grip and fell toward the waiting floor. “Finn,” she croaked, her throat trembling. “Oh, Finn… please…”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Suddenly the werewolf tilted its head to the sky, toward the powerful moon that looked down upon them through the aperture in the chapel’s roof.
And it unleashed its hungry, blood-curdling howl into the heavens.
___
Vlad was reminded of their younger days. Back then they would spar for hours, honing their craft and their bodies, until the coming of dusk when they would retire aching and covered in bruises, proud of the day’s effort and eager to start again with the coming of the next dawn.
This duel was not like those days. This duel meant the difference between life and death.
He slashed at Avice with all of the speed that he could muster, but the blow was not quick enough to break through her defenses. She blocked his incoming attack with the shaft of her war hammer and swiftly pushed him away, causing him to stagger. She countered with a strike of her own, which Vlad was quick to dodge. They both stood at the ready, sword and hammer in hand. Each of them studied the other, neither wanting to make the next move.
“Never did I believe I’d live to see you defend a monster, Avice,” Vlad said. “It is no wonder you’ve forsaken your title. The Raven of Westwake would have laid down her life before committing such an unthinkable act.”
“I’d still lay down my life, Ibis,” she said, “but in the name of protecting an innocent boy—one who has no knowledge or control of the beast that dwells within him. The only monster in this village is the one who failed to protect him when he needed protecting the most. And I shall not fail him again.”
“You fail him every day that you allow him to live with his curse. The best thing you could do for him now would be to put him down—to free him of the life that you so selfishly force him to persist in.”
“Put him down?” She scoffed. “As if he were some dog? Some sickened pup? I shall do no such thing, and nor shall you. I will not allow you to harm him, and if that means I must strike you down—then so be it.”
“Yes, so be it,” he said. “Because that is exactly what you must do if you intend to stop me!”
Vlad slashed at her, a blow she dodged with surprising dexterity. He swiped again, and the blacksmith once again met his blade with the shaft of her own weapon. Vlad pulled away from this clash quickly; he did not trust that his blade could stand up to the craftsmanship of Avice’s war hammer, and he feared that too many clashes would see his weapon destroyed. Sturdy though it was, he knew that his foe’s was even more resilient.
He ducked beneath an incoming side swipe from Avice, then retaliated with a quick slash of his own. Avice was not able to recoil her slow, bulky weapon quickly enough to block his incoming blow. Instead, she was forced to let go of her weapon with one hand and deflect the attack with her sturdy steel bracer. Vlad’s sword glanced off of the armor harmlessly, and by the time he shifted his momentum for another strike, Avice had already stepped out of his reach.
“He will only grow more powerful as his condition persists, Avice,” he said as both of them caught their breath. “Evidently you’ve found a method of keeping him subdued until recently, but it is clear that such a method no longer bears fruit. Just look at how difficult he has become during this Celestial Curtain, and you can only imagine how much worse he will be next year—assuming anybody in Fenwick yet lives for him to prey upon by then!”
“I shall concern myself with the future when that time comes,” she said. “I’ll take Finnian somewhere away from here if need be—keep him isolated from others, where he can do no harm. And when he is ready, I will teach him of his affliction so that once I am gone, he will know how to protect himself and others from his bloodlust.”
“And if he kills you before you can achieve any of that?” Vlad said. “All it will take is one mistake, Avice, for him to tear you to pieces. Who, then, will be there to stand between him and the lambs that will be to the slaughter?”
“Such a future shall never come to pass, Vlad Albescu. I shan’t allow it.”
“One of us shall prevent it,” he said, “but it shall not be you.” He paused. “Allow us to assume that you are correct, and that you somehow manage to train him to mitigate and monitor his curse. In the meantime, how many more innocents will that boy unknowingly slaughter? How many victims will you stab in the back in order to protect him from what he truly is?!”
“As many as I have to, so long as he remains safe,” she said. “I would gladly sacrifice this entire village before I let any harm fall upon Finnian.”
Her words disgusted him. He prepared to retaliate, but was stopped when a voice did so in his stead. “I have heard more than enough.”
Both turned to watch as Sir Godwin, sword in hand, stepped into the forge. He squared up next to Vlad and glared at Avice, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade. “If you choose to turn your back on Fenwick, then you have made your allegiance quite clear. You have revealed yourself as an enemy to this village, Madam Avice, and as such, you have revealed yourself as an enemy to me.”
Avice looked unphased. “Very well. I was certain it would come to this eventually, Sir Godwin. Better to burn both these bridges at once, while the fire remains hot.”
“I am afraid your blaze will only burn hot enough for one this evening.” Godwin looked at Vlad. “Go on, Plague doctor. I shall hold off Avice while you put an end to that beast.”
Vlad was shocked by the knight’s words. “But Captain—”
“I implore you to do as I say for once, instead of wasting precious time on words,” Godwin said. “I find all that I have learned here exceptionally difficult to believe, but seeing as it all serves as the only explanation to make any lick of sense, I am forced to believe it fully, much as I am forced to believe that you are the only one who can properly slay this lycanthrope of yours. I need your aid, Vlad Albescu. Fenwick needs your aid. And as much as it pains me to do so, I am calling upon you to render it.” He returned his gaze to Avice. “Now begone. Rescue your apprentice and slay that beast before it is too late.”
Vlad shook his surprise and apprehension away with a single nod. “I shall. Thank you, Captain Godwin.”
As he turned to go, he heard the knight speak again. “There is a loose palisade behind a copse of trees that will grant you a fast aperture into the swamp behind the village. You ought to take it if you hope to reach your apprentice in time.”
“Aye,” Vlad said, then disappeared into the night without another word.
Godwin could not help but smirk when he saw the confused look on his new foe’s face. “Do not look so surprised, Madam Avice. Of course I knew your little bypass was there, but I allowed you to keep it so that you could use it to more easily serve Fenwick. Your betrayal means I’ve no longer any reason to keep hidden my knowledge of it.”
He took the hilt of his sword into both of his mailed hands. There was a chill in his glare that rivaled that of the winter wind sweeping into the forge from the threshold behind him. “Now, are you going to come quietly, or are you about to add to your ever-growing list of foolish mistakes?”
