“I am bewitched,” Peggy says. “Cursed to change into my Wyrm form whenever I feel strong emotion like fear or love. Cursed otherwise to roam until I find someone to lift it and return me to my usual form.”
“Not like Fenrother at all.” Warden rubs at the scruff on his chin. “He enjoys being a Wyrm.”
“I cannot understand why anyone would want to be such a creature,” Peggy says, wringing her hands. “I came to the Underhill seeking those who set the curse, to beg them to free me.”
“There are no Faerie here,” Warden intones, seemingly getting larger as he looms over the Laidly Wyrm. “Only Long Meg,” he booms. “If you fell afoul of her, then there’s no hope for you.”
Peggy cringes, and I slam my hand against Warden’s chest, pushing him back.
“Really?” I glare at him.
Warden shrugs but continues to look bigger than ever…and I think he might be growling low under his breath.
“Long Meg and her daughters give no quarter,” Warden says. “And if this Wyrm is here, it bodes no good for us to be near her.”
“I don’t need your help, Brag,” Peggy says with an element of force I admire.
After all, I feel small in the presence of Warden in his Brag form. Peggy is minuscule. I think he could stamp her into the mud with one of his huge hooves and not even feel it. But Peggy stands her ground and I’m impressed.
“But…” I interject into their staring match. “If Peggy got in, we can get out, can’t we?”
“The lines will show us the way,” Warden grumbles.
“The lines are not to be trusted,” Peggy says to me, turning her back on Warden. “Long Meg has influence over the entire of the Underhill. She does whatever she wants here.”
“I trust the lines,” Warden says. “They cannot lie.”
I look between them, not sure which one to question further. “How did you get here, Peggy?”
“We fell through a portal from the Night Lands,” Warden adds unnecessarily.
“There is only one way in, or out, that is voluntary,” Peggy says. “You’ll need to find the Heddon cave.”
Warden snorts out a loud breath. “And risk the wrath of the Shellycoat?”
“He let me in, he’ll let me out,” Peggy says.
“The Shellycoat only ever wants a taste of your soul. Don’t tell me you let him.”
Peggy is very pale, but at Warden’s words, she flushes a crimson colour.
Warden shakes his head and paws the ground. “I don’t know which is worse, to travel in the company of one who has been cursed by Long Meg or one who freely gave up her soul to be feasted on by the Shellycoat.”
“No one’s perfect, Warden. Not even you. I could remind you of what you did to my tavern.” I glare at the big Brag. “But I don’t have to, do I?”
Warden paws at the ground, averting his gaze from mine.
I can’t forget the way he kissed me, but I can’t forgive his behaviour here and now either. How can he be like this to the tiny creature in front of us? I won’t let him.
“Why don’t you come with us?” I ask Peggy. “Perhaps we can find another way to lift the curse rather than you having to be here alone.”
Peggy gives me a wan smile.
“You are very kind, dear lady,” she says. “But the only other method of lifting my curse lies with the one who set it. I have to fall on the mercies of Long Meg and hope she grants me passage,” Peggy says sadly. “I have no choice but to continue my journey.”
I’m torn between wanting to help her and needing to get back to my tavern. My needs seem so small compared to hers.
“If Long Meg finds us here, she will make sure we never leave,” Warden intones.
