DRAGONFLY part 3

Copyright (c) 2018 by Randall R. Peterson ALL RIGHTS RESERVED This is a work of fiction. All persons, locations and actions are from the author's imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner.

By R. Peterson

       Fran jumped to one side just as a long green tongue darted from the giant frog’s mouth and missed her by inches. Siltlin, Donone and Gebae were all shaken at the unexpected change in Queen Ednich’s demeanor. “We thought Your Majesty would be happy that Lendoria was rescued!” they gasped.

            “My daughter needs to learn to stand on her own two feet,” Queen Ednich frowned as she stared down at her own webbed legs resting on the Lilly pad.

Fran bowed. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you … I’m new here.”

“We all are,” the queen said. “Some of us are newer than others.”

“It’s just that,” Fran stammered. “I had no idea … you would be a …”

“A frog?” The queen laughed. “No more surprised than I was when I woke one morning with webbed feet, long green hopping legs … and a hunger for flies!”

“How could this have happened?” Fran looked to the others and they shrugged.

“A human demo haunts an old house near where you rescued my daughter,” the queen said, “mostly after midnight … but she has been known to do her creeping in the early morning hours … if there is sufficient fog upon the land to hide her iniquitous intent.”

“I know the place,” Fran gasped. “That’s the house of Bonetta Sharpstone … but she’s been dead for years! When you say demo do you mean she’s a ghost?””

“A demo is someone who works black magic and she is dead to your world … but not to mine,” the queen said. “We were rivals in school and both sought the affections of a certain handsome lad. His name was William Martin.”

Fran gasped. “That’s Billy’s father. He left town before Billy was born and was never seen again. Billy’s mother abandoned him to an orphanage and disappeared.”

“I never wanted to abandon either of my twin children,” the queen said. “Billy or Lendoria!”

“You are the mother of both?”

The queen entwined her webbed fingers in her lap and nodded. Her eyes grew melancholy as if remembering a sad time.  “Bonetta was furious when William chose me over her. She shut herself away in her house in the woods and delved deeply into black magic. Night after night she mixed vile ingredients into a large black kettle simmering over a fire. She learned fast and was able to cook up the potion that transformed me into a frog when my children were born. But all magic has its consequences. Bonetta is most dangerous during a full moon and her powers rise and diminish with the lunar cycles.”

The ground shook and leaves floated to the ground as the queen’s deep rumbling voice continued.

“Before she became invisible like the Boog, Bonetta disguised herself as a nurse and gave me what I thought was a cup of tea to drink. I barely escaped by hopping through an open window before a midwife beat me senseless with a broom. All William knew was that his wife had abandoned him with two newborns. One day he went walking in the woods … searching for me some say. Bonetta who can be seen only under moonlight followed and captured him and to this day, she has my husband imprisoned in her cellar. I found my way here and because of my vast knowledge of the human world I was eventually made queen of the dragonfly riders.”

            “But how is it that Billy is human and Lendoria is a Nich?”

            “I wanted both my children with me,” the queen said. “So I could protect them. I used to have my riders follow Lendoria when she went picking flowers in the woods. They’d whisper in her ear and were finally able to entice her to eat some Sinker berries and she grew small. It was hard to do … a red berry with a green dot in the center certainly looks odd and most people assume it must be poison. I guess it is in a way because of what it does to you.”

The queen looked even sadder and shook her head. “Billy was impossible to work with. He never liked flowers or the woods and he slapped at every dragonfly that came near him. He spends most days hunting with his friends. We finally gave up and decided we’d have to find another way.”

The queen began to sob and large frog tears rolled from her eyes and collected in the corners of her wide mouth Siltlin continued with the rest of the queen’s story.

 “Bonetta the Demo found out about us making Lendoria small by eating the Sinker berries and burned every bush she could find. Now a bush with that kind of magic berries on it is very hard to find. The berries that Gebae and Danone gave you were the last we had. The only Sinker bush we know of grows right next to Bonetta’s porch. It is probably the last of its kind, and we can only think she allows it to grow there in hopes of enticing us to her door.”

“If Bonetta is so powerful how do you ever hope to defeat her?” Fran shook her head as she gazed at the Nich.

“Two moon cycles ago on a very hot night we flew through an open window in Bonetta’s house and found her book of magic lying on a table,” Siltlin said. We cut the page dealing with transformation out of the book and a dozen of us flew it back here.”

Fran looked down and eight Nich were lugging the stolen page of magic, now rolled into a scroll, up the stairs.

Siltlin pointed to the page the Nich were starting to unroll. “On this paper is the recipe for making our queen human again,” she said. “Only we don’t know where to find some of the ingredients.”

Fran read the page; it was like a recipe for soup except for a few very special items. “Motha Bear claws!” Fran gasped. “Those would be extremely difficult for any human to acquire … almost impossible for a Nich!”

            “That’s not the only difficult part,” Siltlin said. “The potion must also contain fresh blood dripped in as a last ingredient from both the queen’s offspring … and be brewed in Bonetta’s own kettle under the light of a full moon!”

            “But that’s when Bonetta is most dangerous!”

            “It’s when the vile Witch of the Woods is the most skilled at murder,” Siltlin confessed. “Our only hope is to surprise her.”

-------2-------

            Samuel Dodge searched everywhere in the woods for his stepdaughter; it was as if Fran had just disappeared. It was getting dark. He was just about to head back to the farm when he heard a rustling sound in the heavy brush. Samuel did not like being in the woods after dark; he was too close to the Sharpstone farm; folks said it was haunted. If Fran ventured into that place of devils it was her own fault … he would not risk his life to help her. Samuel took a deep breath and called out one last time. “Fran is that you? Get over here now and take your beating like a good girl!” A shadow suddenly loomed between him and the moon which had just risen in the eastern sky. “I know of whom you seek,” a voice sounding as if it came from the bottom of a rusty bucket said.

Samuel wanted to scream but he didn’t have the breath. Finally he managed to squeak: “Who are you?”

            “I am a nightmare … and the bride of the devil,” the voice said. The thing was now so close to him Samuel could smell a dank breath like rotting worms tickling the hairs on his neck. Samuel closed his eyes and stuttered as he tried to speak. Urine ran from his crotch and soaked both his pant-legs. “Let me be … I s s s swear I I did n n n n ‘t do nothing!”

            “Let you go?” the voice contained a malicious laugh. “I use or I kill … no one gets let go!”

            “I’ll do whatever you ask …. Just don’t touch me!” Samuel promised. As if in defiance, cold fingers slid up his neck and he shrieked. A flock of blackbirds who had settled into a large elm tree for the night suddenly took flight their beating wings sounding strangely like the crackling of a fire.

            “Silence!” the voice warned. “You’ll wake the dead and it’s much too early … the moon is not yet full!”

Samuel began to blubber as jagged fingernails dug into his neck like claws. “Follow me to my house … I have a job for you,” the voice commanded … then he was released.

With legs moving as if in a nightmare, Samuel followed the woman to the old house. She moved with a lurching gait and her hunched back snapped and scraped as if it were broken. He finally found his voice as they climbed rickety stairs onto a sagging porch. “You’re her … you’re that Sharpstone woman ain’t you?”

            “Bonetta Sharpstone is dead,” the voice cackled, “and yes … I am her!”

Samuel raised both eyes toward the moon and bawled. “Mmmmmwwwwaaaaaggggghhhhh!”

Bonetta slapped him hard enough to loosen two of his teeth. Samuel stared at her stunned. What had only been shadow before, suddenly struck him speechless under the moonlight. Bonetta Sharpstone’s skin dripped from her skull like rotted moss. Two burning embers stared at him from deep within darkened eye sockets. The witch woman pointed a boney finger toward a hut about to collapse next to a muddy stream. “Inside you will find nests … lots and lots of paper nests,” she said. “Bring them here and I’ll show you where to hang them.”

            “If I help you with your bird nests will you let me go?” Samuel was already staggering toward the small building.

            “The nests are not birds’ nests, but wasps’ nests,” Bonetta said, “for thousands and thousands of wasps and their riders.” She stared up at the moon and then smiled.  “And why would you want to leave … when your dear stepdaughter and her new friends will be coming to this house in just three days?”

To be continued ….