The Snarled Circle Chronicles

20. In White Spider Woods

Ludwig decides it's about time he had some friends over. Gilbert, naturally, is not involved in making this decision.

Ludwig knew a great deal about raising chickens, and one day, when he went to taste baker Adela's July jam, he hatched a brilliant idea.

"I have new chicks at my house! You should come see them," he told his friends Ada, Bibi, and Thomas. "I just live up on the promontory. It's not that far to walk."

"I thought you lived in a barn," said Bibi, completely serious.

"Yeah, I thought that too. 'Cause weren't you talking about a bunch of pigeons in your room?" Her twin added.

Ludwig shook his head. "No, it's not a barn. It's a nice house. It's just old. It must've been built a hundred years ago. My brother likes the pigeons when they fly inside. He says they're messy, but cute."

"But they're so gross," the twins snickered together.

"He talks to them."

"What do the pigeons say?" Thomas asked.

"The pigeons don't say anything, but they do whatever my brother tells them to," Ludwig said, licking his fingers clean of sugary cherries. "Hey, auntie Adela, can Ada and Bibi come see my chickens? We just got some new ones from the Schneiders."

At this, the baker woman shuddered and paused in her canning. She clicked her nails on the counter and eyed her daughters with the nervous air only a mother could muster. Thomas, too, she took in, because his mother was often sick or hobbling around town on a cane. (At this point, her health was gauged by whether her Spätzle and gravy had eggshells swimming in it.) Adela didn't know what kind of house Ludwig lived in because she had never been there. She didn't know what kind of creature reared the boy because she had never seen it face to face. But Ludwig was certainly reared by a creature, and he was certainly lying about his house.

"Is your brother okay with friends coming over?" She asked as an experiment, giving the boy a hard look. She didn't want to frighten him. Things were different in his household, she knew. But it would be too different for her if the children came home partly-chewed.

The boy took on a determined squeeze of the cheeks. "I asked him last week if I could have friends over. I said I wanted to play host for once. He said it was okay."

"Well, did you ask him if it was okay today? Does he have to make certain arrangements for guests?"

She feared he would understand the nuance, and indeed, all four children gave her an odd look for this, as if Ludwig's family situation was a special and unfairly-guarded secret.

"We don't usually have guests over, but we can set up some tables, and I can ask my brother to make his soup!"

"What kind of soup?" Ada asked. "I don't like carrots."

"Mm, it has carrots in it. But we have bread, too!"

"I want bacon," said Thomas.

"We can make bacon. But you have to be careful because the grease spits out of the pan and it can burn you."

The old battle within the woman's heart was remembered. Ludwig, a sweet little boy she had known from a baby, living with… whatever Wilhelm was. She'd always known he disliked his human skin. He aged slower than the other teens, like he was confused on this process, and he tried too hard to understand Ludwig's simplest behaviors.

Then she'd seen the shadow of his true form on that wall so many years ago — the spidery body and the rasping voice that still whispered at her when she walked alone at night… She'd seen a flash of the palest skin — a color like frozen and moldering flesh. The white of death.

Some days, Adela felt she should hug her girls and tell them a dozen times such pale creatures really existed — very dangerous monsters who would devour them and leave their bones in the dust for the whole world to mourn, (though the whole world never knew them personally and had no business sticking their beaks in the affair…)

But if such a power existed — one that separated humans from Wilhelm's breed in more than appearance, she would not let it perturb her. It hadn't perturbed Ludwig, she reminded herself. So the more she thought like Ludwig, the less of a fuss she could make. There was no difference, really. No force of provocation. Differences were imaginary. Believing in them gave Wilhelm's kind some invisible power they never deserved in the first place. It was a new day. No use dwelling on the old ones.

Finally, the boy seemed to catch on to her worrying, or at least realize the weight of his request. He slumped his shoulders and focused on a new spoonful of jam.

"Lud, you can take Ada and Bibi to see the chickens if you're back before nightfall, okay? You girls stay together, too. It's a big woods up there."

"I know where to go!" Ludwig said. "Let's go right now!"

"Wait," said Adela. "What about Thomas?"

"I'm not working with my papa today, so I can go anywhere," Thomas said.

"And I can bring my salt if we meet any dark creatures," said Bibi.

"Then we're off! Let's go see the chickens!"

Adela watched the noisy children disperse, leaving sticky spoons on the counter and fingerprints in the flour. Her husband came in with a new rack of cream bottles to find her shivering and kneading dough with uneven strokes of her hands.

"Where did the kids go?" He asked. "Are they swimming in the stream again?"

She paused, sucking in a breath she would send to her children the moment she sensed their harm, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah, they're going swimming."

Misty magic led Ludwig up the beaten trail toward the thickening trees of the promontory. The scents of woodsmoke and baled alfalfa soon sank below where little boots trod. Ludwig breathed in moistened earth and dew-studded leaves, untouched by the baking sun of summer outside the forest walls. He trailed his hands along the trunks of trees, feeling lichen tatter and crumble to dust under his fingers.

To his left rolled the mighty river northward, all blue-green and shimmery beneath the steamy foam of fog. The sandy bank rose up short on its edge, then transitioned to a lush incline of trees and shrubs that twisted and leaned up toward the path of the morning sun. Ludwig jumped through the ring of a gnarled pine that had grown for a hundred years upon the slope. He scampered through the beds of thorny grass and picked a few purple flowers he thought his brother would like.

To his right rose the great green cliff, through which the trail weaved, until Ludwig quickly darted to the right and vanished from its visible sand. He beckoned the other children into a kingdom of spiderwebs and slippery snakes sliding underfoot. Squirrels chattered and darted aimlessly overhead, while the various sparrows and swallows twittered to greet their returning prince of the forest. The twins beat a few mosquitoes out of their faces, and Thomas quickly snatched up a toad, which he plopped in the pocket of his trousers until its muddy stone of a body squirmed out again.

"It's just through here," Ludwig said. "You can all come in."

He stood before a twisted hoop of belladonna rising ten feet into the air from its mangled roots. The vines all twisted and intertwined like a sturdy gateway. A few bonfliers scattered from the leaves and flashed before vanishing into the daylight. Beyond the hoop was a tunnel of sorts, formed by the foliage of giant grasses. Within, the sunlight was mottled and changed to an eerie green.

"Look at the pretty!" Ada exclaimed, pointing to the giant purple flowers. "It's like we're bees!"

Ludwig gave a little smile at this. His house could be much more fun than the ones in town. He'd prove it! He didn't need one of those heating stoves, and he certainly didn't need all those soldiers and trains Thomas had! Gilbert was right. Those things carried bad energy that would offend the forest spirits.

But he wanted one so bad.

The giant flowers bloomed as the children passed, releasing more colorful insects into the open air. A glitter of dewdrops rained down upon the sodden earth. Ludwig instructed how to hop over the puddles and step carefully on the rotten planks laid down to retain the mud. In winter, the tunnel grew into a frosty ice tube lit by phantom flames, but in summer, it was a secret passage of enormous toads and ghostly chimes.

Ludwig grew nervous as they approached the tunnel's end, but he took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. With a burst of confidence, he darted out and gestured to the grand stone tower sticking out of the earth like a half-buried pipe. The wisteria was in full bloom, giving off its luxuriant aroma.

"This is my home."

"This is where you live?" Bibi asked. "You said it was a house."

"It is a house. I have my own room, and it has a kitchen and bookshelves. Oh, I can show you where the outhouse is. But, em… it might be too stinky for girls."

Thomas was skeptical. "But… don't you live on a farm? Your brother always talks about his fields."

Ludwig shook his head. "The fields are elsewhere. I can show you the chickens! Let's go this way!"

He led them to the other side of the tower and behind. A quickly-constructed shed now served as the bathhouse, while the old one had been stripped and turned into an elegant little chicken coop. A host of hens hobbled about, pecking bugs and fluffing their feathers. Ludwig hunched down and scampered to the back, where the chicks were kept in their cage for safety. The air was filled with a flurry of chirps.

"If you're gentle, you can hold them."

The twins were eager for this, while Thomas stood behind, still gazing up at the stone tower.

"Ludwig, you said you live in a nice house. This isn't nice. This looks like you're squatting."

"What's squatting?" Ludwig asked.

"It's when you move in somewhere that isn't yours and stay there without permission."

"Oh, we have permission to stay here. That's what the tunnel is for. It only lets people in who have permission."

"What happened to your old house?"

"This has always been my house. I grew up here."

"Did your parents die here?"

"Thomas, don't be mean," Ada said. "Luddy doesn't like talking about his parents."

"No, I can talk about them," Ludwig said. "I just don't remember them. I don't know who they were."

He spoke plainly, but he was shivering, and a tightness was balling up in the back of his throat. What was so difficult about this? Couldn't he have friends over, too? Couldn't he share his experiences with the rest of them? It was a very nice house. Very clean and tidy! He and Gilbert made sure of that!

Gilbert…

"LUD! YOU GET YOUR PANCAKE EARS UP HERE! NOW!"

"Ach," Ludwig muttered. "I'll be back. My brother wants me. You can keep petting the chicks. Just don't lose them."

"Why did he say 'pancake ears?'" Thomas asked.

"I have big ears," Ludwig said, and he thanked the stars it was true.

He found Gilbert on the second floor of Piyo Tower, using every bit of space to keep books or bottles or magical experiments of some kind. The changeling was leering at a clear jug of powder he held between his fingers. He looked about ready to chuck the thing out the window.

"Just can't trust this premixed store-bought stuff," he grumbled. "It doesn't work on me, but I'm not flying all the way to my usual test subject and having it give mediocre results. I don't want to see Eliza making bad choices over a single jug of powder. Now, maybe if I combine it with some other ingredients, I'll have the excuse to run trials. Pumpkins aren't in season. I'll have to use blueberries."

"Gilbert?"

"Yeah? Hey, Lud, you wanna go pick me some blueberries this afternoon?"

"I already looked on the bushes. You ate all of them."

"Then I need you to find some new bushes and pick like two buckets full. I just don't know what to think of this stuff by itself. I took some. It only gave me a bad stomachache."

Ludwig inspected the jug.

INSTANT CAKE POWDER, read the label.

"Brother, this is a baking mix, not a magic potion."

"Oh poo. You might be right about that. Can you still go pick blueberries, my little wizard? They'd be tasty in a cake!"

"Yeah, I have some friends over, so they can help."

"Friends?"

Gilbert's ears swiveled back. He dashed up the stairs to the third floor, then peeked out the back window of Ludwig's room to spy three children far below. Furious, he wheeled on Ludwig, who shrank beneath the creature's shadow.

"Lud, you insolent gremlin! You know the rules about bringing people home with you!"

"I get to go to their houses. Why can't I bring them here? I want my friends to see my house and meet my family."

"Oh, so you're fine with the whole of Rhein Valley coming up here to shackle me in iron and take you away?"

"That's not going to happen."

"It will happen. There are things you should be old enough to understand, and one of them is that my people are wicked toward those people, and they won't hesitate to be wicked back. It's an ancient dynamic. No one is allowed to break it."

"Guess I'm not old enough to understand that."

"I don't need cheek from you."

"They're just kids. They won't care. Show them your transformations. Take them on a flying sled ride. Show them how fun magic can be!"

"No."

"Why not!?"

"Because those kids' parents don't want them thinking changelings are safe and fun to be around!"

"You're safe and fun around me!"

"You have no choice but to trust me. I'm your guardian. But other kids go home and tell their parents they want to learn magic because the cool, fun changeling does it, and SMACK! We've got that whole village at our doorstep with torches, accusing us of warping young minds. I know it's unfair, but I'm trying to protect you, Ludling. It's my worst nightmare to lose you."

Ludwig's pout grew even poutier. "Change, then. Be my normal human brother. Changelings like lying, right?"

"We don't lie in this tower."

"Well… well shit, Gilbert!"

And before Gilbert could respond, be it in scolding or laughter, the brooding boy had vanished back down the stairs and out the door of the tower. The changeling frowned, his ears folding and his fangs creeping out. He went and leaned on the window sill to pout.

"I can't show myself. I want to, but I can't. I have to keep him safe. Even if it means I'm nowhere closer to feeling like an actual part of the world…"

"Where are we going to find blueberries?" Ada asked. She and her twin carried the buckets with giddy smiles and fought to keep single-file behind Ludwig. Thomas trailed behind, still skeptical of the whole affair. Ludwig didn't live in a barn. He didn't even live on a farm. There were weird, magical things happening…

"I don't know," said Ludwig, "but when I grow up, I'm going to be a wizard who helps people, so I have to know how to find things in nature."

"Are blueberries a magic fruit?" Bibi asked.

"Well, em... " He caught himself before talking about his brother. "I read this book that said they're good for health potions… and also you can use them if you're making a potion to grow into something larger."

"What did you say those bugs are called?"

"Bonfliers. They've got phos-phor-escent venom that gives predators hallucinations."

"You learned that from a book, too?" Ada asked.

The boy puffed his chest a bit and swung his arms higher as he marched. "Yup. I read lots of books about magic."

"You know stuff about imps?" Asked Thomas.

"I know they don't like to be called that. They're fine with changelings, and if you want to flatter them, call them fairies of darkness, or even The Fae Born Of Shadow, Sons and Daughters Of Fate.

"There are girl changelings?" Ada said.

"Of course there are. They're people, just… odd people. But, em… boy and girl changelings can't have kids together. They don't work with each other."

The children had a grand old laugh at this, alluding to the affairs of the adult world rarely understood. Ludwig felt a bit strange about this and offered another bit of trivia to swing the mood.

"Did you know there are different kinds of changelings based on what kind of shadow they're born out of?"

"Really?" Asked Ada.

"Yeah. Like, you know about die Schmetterdämonen, the usual pale, scrawny changelings with long ears and sharp teeth. They're born out of shadows cast upon the earth. But there're also die Spritzendämonen, who are quite rare. They're born out of shadows cast upon water, and they can change both shape and size. They've got mottled gray skin and webbed fingers and toes, but they're surprisingly bad swimmers. No muscle to help them fight currents."

"Oh, nasty!" Bibi squealed. "How do you keep those ones away?"

Ludwig wrinkled his nose. "The same iron and salt will scare them. And they really don't like heat."

Thomas had just caught himself another toad and was shoving it deep in his pocket. "You could write your own book about monsters."

"They're not monsters. They're fairies," Ludwig retorted. He felt that same uneasy feeling balling up in his throat, pulling his tongue before he could say anything more. His world was Gilbert's world. He watched the bonfliers while drinking chocolate elixirs and had late-night conversations about the spiritual relevance of mackerel. Once, he became a hobgoblin, and another time, his brother became an eagle. These things were fun and wonderful and completely normal.

But they didn't feel so normal around his friends.

He hadn't Gilbert's ears or sense of smell, but Ludwig had learned to track animals by their pawprints and the chewed stems they left behind as they loped or leapt or lumbered through the leaves. Beyond the secret tunnel of sparkling grass, he identified the tracks of a deer and pressed on through thorny brambles and tangled shrubs. The sharp rocks of the forest floor were harsh on the twins' shoes, so a shortcut was taken, and then a detour, then a looping sideways shimmy between a double-trunked tree.

Deeper into the woods and higher up the promontory they went, until Ludwig was sure he could see the top of Piyo Tower sticking up below him. He made sure to stay far from the sound of rushing water, and to stay quiet whenever he heard the tinkling of bells and the snuffling of Toadmuffin muzzles. He spied a Toadmuffin or two hiding in the holes of hollow trees. The odd creatures shrank as they aged, and the fully-shrunk adult came only up to his ankle. Tiny little plumes of green feathers on tails snaked through the trees above. Ludwig heard the whispers.

"Fruit… fruit… tasty fruit… "

A hobgoblin's fruit was the most powerful of hallucinogens, (a word even Ludwig couldn't pronounce, though he tried,) and so he urged his friends on past the little flightless rat-monkey-eagles, though Ada begged to hold and pet one.

The children then passed into a sparse grove of pines as thick around as all four of them. The ground was sandy and crunchy underfoot, and the dry trails of rivulet dew ran like the veins of the earth, wiggling between roots and carrying phantom streams all the way to the grass-tufted edge of the high cliffs reaching out over the river.

A miniature sign stuck into the earth read out WHITE SPIDER WOODS, and indeed, thousands of tiny white spiders with horns on their heads crept through the leaves and the knots in trees like stars. Webs hung from every bough, formed from a shimmering silky substance that was divinely soft, but terribly sticky. Both twins shrieked when their hands became stuck and a few dozen spiders swarmed over their fingers to detach the stolen net. Ludwig had never gone so deep in the forest before. But at last, he found a blueberry bush, and he readily directed his friends to fill up the buckets so the creepy place could be left in peace.

"There should be enough. Don't eat them! My brother wants to put them in his cake!"

"I'm hungry," Bibi complained. "Are we gonna have some bread and bacon, too?"

"I want soup," Thomas said.

Ludwig was more than peckish himself, but his head was clearer in the woodsy air, and he focused doubly on collecting the blueberries. He had to remember the way they came! Otherwise nightfall would quickly descend, and the darker beasts would emerge from the soil and bark. Too many critters lurked in the magical forest at night.

"What's this animal here?" Ada asked. Her face was smeared with juice, and Ludwig felt an anxious ache ball up inside him. The fruit was for baking!

"Em, let me see it… Oh, don't touch that! It's a soccrabus!"

It was a crablike creature — its flesh a gnarled, mottled pink and its pincers wiggling to protect the soft part of its body under the shell. Two beady black eyes on stalks peeked out before ducking under. The soccrabus muttered to itself in a surprisingly humanlike manner. Ada leaned in to listen closer, but Ludwig clapped his hands over her ears and steered her away from the mesmerizing patterns on the pink shell. Flustered, the soccrabus kicked its legs out wildly in all directions, then watched helplessly as the children marched away, and scuttled under a log.

"They're said to be children of idle thoughts. If you're pinched by a soccrabus, you'll lose all motivation and become a weak shell of your full potential."

Ada's eyes grew wide. "Thank you for saving me, Luddy!"

"It's no trouble," he smiled.

Bibi was poking at a large, octopus-like creature that appeared to be made of moving clay. Its one-segment body was sky-blue, and it looked on the scene with two great, glittery eyes.

"A pfikssare," Ludwig explained. "Shy, benign creatures. Very knowledgeable. Some can even read."

Bibi offered her salt can, but the pfikssare was too frightened and backed away on its ten tubular legs. It then schlorped down into the moist earth of a shaded tree and was gone.

"Okay, Lud, bet you don't know what this creature is."

"What do you have, Thomas?"

"This!" Thomas exclaimed, wrenching his victim out of the blueberry bush.

His body was round — so round that Ludwig couldn't tell where his head ended and his belly began. His skin was all sleek and slimy and gray, like a shadow on snow. A tuft of curly hair graced his spotted head, and his pointed ears twitched madly with annoyance. Stubby legs quivered, and lanky arms swung up to pinch the bully's nose.

"Wow! That's a troll!"

"I'm a mushroom troll, of course! My name is Wecken!" The creature squeaked, finally breaking free and rolling over to Ludwig. He smoothed his little waistcoat and tightened his belt around his belly. He smelled terribly of dirt and rot, and Ludwig could see the hundreds of little mushrooms poking out of his skin like warts.

"I was taking my nap, of course," he continued. "Always good to nap in White Spider Woods. It is a place where the fouler creatures may find respite in relative peace. But river spirits are not as foul as some."

"You're a river spirit?" Bibi asked.

"You've heard of mushroom trolls, of course. We preserve the river. Keep it flowing on course. Keep the nasties out of it. Keep the good fungi in, of course. Lure in powerful magic and keep it here, of course. You've heard of people trapped by the Rhein Valley, of course. Enchanted by its charms and think of it as home forever. All the work of mushroom trolls."

"Do you crawl in people's ears? That's what I've heard," Ada said.

"We shrink to the size of acorns and crawl in ears, of course. Make humans eat fungi."

"I knew I saw a troll somewhere near home," Ludwig said.

The mushroom troll gave Ludwig a strange look. Then his little gray eyes sparkled in recognition. "Yes, of course! I know you! You are Ludwig, of course! Charge of that foul changeling Gilbert, not as foul as Fritz, of course."

"Em… I don't think so. That's not me. I'm a different Ludwig," Ludwig said. He wanted to say otherwise, but he remembered Gilbert's warnings, and his lips were sealed.

His statement offended the troll, for he suddenly puffed out his globular cheeks and swelled in size until he was as tall as Ludwig himself. The stubby legs waddled over, and slimy gray hands pressed him up against a tree. Ludwig grimaced. The creature's breath was as horrid as a rotting slough.

"You tell a lie, of course!" He screeched. "Mushroom trolls do not like lies! The river is pure and clear! Words must be like water!"

Ludwig held his breath and covered his nose. If what he read was true, the spit of a mushroom troll contained thousands of tiny spores that could grow in any dark, moist environment — the human body being a more sinister location. His heart sped in his chest as he struggled against the creature's grip. Bibi was screaming, and Ada was at the mushroom troll's back, kicking his ankles and throwing her weight into the solid roundness of the thing.

This made the mushroom troll angrier. It snapped its fingers, and the clouds above grew denser and darker until a downpour rocked the whole of White Spider Woods. The pfiksarre was blown about on the gale. The soccrabus was caught in a miniature flood. The earth grew all mushy, and the trees sank and sagged into their roots. The children all screeched and held on to tree branches to stay steady in the heat of the storm.

"Tell the truth!" The creature seethed. "You are Ludwig, of course. A swap-child, of course. Carried to Piyo Tower as a baby in the dead of winter, of course. Raised by foul, foul Gilbert."

Ludwig felt his heart crack at this, but he held strong. "I'm a different Ludwig."

"There is no different Ludwig! There is only the Ludwig who lives on the promontory — stolen as a babe! That is you, of course! And your brother is ever so wicked! Mixing potions that feather the skin and widen the stomach!"

"Ah! You don't know everything! He has not made a single chicken transformation potion that works! It is his life-long, geh, en… endeavor! Of c-course! B-but I'm a different… Lud…"

Before he could finish, Ludwig broke into a tearful cough. The mushroom troll grew angry at the lie, and his anger puffed him up even bigger. Swampy spit ran down Ludwig's face and gassed up his throat. His stomach began to churn and squirm about from the spores, which were already taking root and bloating into mushrooms wherever they landed.

Suddenly, the mushroom troll recoiled, deflating and letting go of Ludwig for a second. Behind him was Bibi, aiming her can of salt at the creature's back.

"Yes, Bibi! Keep doing that! It's a creature of darkness! It doesn't like salt!" Ludwig cheered.

"Grab my hand, Ludwig!" Thomas yelled.

Ludwig launched himself into the dirt, scrambling on hands and knees to get to his friend. Thomas pulled him up and hastened with him out of the spidery grove.

"Ada! Bibi! Come on!" Thomas yelled. "We have to get out of here!"

Bibi couldn't bear to leave the blueberries. She carried both buckets as fast as she could over to the boys. Ada, meanwhile, had taken the salt can and shook it at the mushroom troll until its anger was too much to handle. He raised his hands to the sky, and a great torrent of rain poured down to wash Ada right out of the grove. All four children were caught in the flood. They slid and tumbled and thrashed, but the mud was far too slick, and it carried them into trees and brambles and dangerously close to the cliff before shifting again and carrying them into the safety of a twin-trunked pine.

Ludwig had fallen into a deep slumber. Mushrooms were springing up all over his face where the troll had slobbered. He moaned and twisted, but the narcotic power was too strong.

"Lud?" Ada said. "Lud, wake up and help. Please? I'm scared. We have to get back."

A brilliant white flash of lightning blinded the whole world before all was dark again. Raindrops were splattering against Thomas' back as he hunched around the others, trying to keep them warm. Thunder crackled like the cruel laugh of some unseen giant bathing in the clouds. The children screamed and hugged each other close, finding no solace in their muddy clothes and sopping shoes. Bibi's braids came all loose and scraggly about her shoulders. Thomas' toad escaped and hopped away into the shadows.

Then the winds shifted.

A throaty screech filled the air. Huge black wings descended, and an eagle with eyes like rubies soared down to perch above them. It chirped mournfully when it saw Ludwig, then screamed so shrilly that the clouds began floating away at once.

"Lud could tell us what that is," Ada whimpered.

The eagle dropped down until its talons gripped the bark right above their heads. It nipped a square of fabric with its beak, then pulled what looked like a robe over its body. Beneath, its form started rippling, expanding, crackling and squelching and swelling and growing until two scrawny feet with too-long toes burst from the bottom. A skull of a face grew into the hood, and two twiggy arms stretched and slipped through the sleeves.

This new creature reached into a pocket to produce a little bottle full of purple fluid. It leaned down and pressed the stuff to Ludwig's lips until it had all disappeared down his throat. Instantly, the mushrooms began to melt.

"Ach, kid, you tease me more than Fritz. I bring all these potions in case you've lost an arm, and all you need is an antifungal? Did you stick your head down a troll hole?"

Bibi flashed her salt can, and Thomas brandished a sharp stick, but the robed changeling merely grimaced at these. He slapped Ludwig's cheeks until the boy roused, then hoisted him to his feet. The storm clouds had all floated off into the mist of a golden afternoon, and the ghost of a rainbow flickered and shone in the frothing foam of the river valley. Only the echo of thunder rocked the trees.

"Come on, kids. Let's get back. Bring those blueberries."

Gilbert turned on his heel, jerking Ludwig behind him. The boy was all a fiery fluster as he trailed back. He said nothing, even when his friends questioned him incessantly about the development. He knew such a hideous creature? Where was it taking them? Was it safe? Why did it sound like a raspy Wilhelm? Why was Ludwig's private life so weird and magical? What was a swap-child? Was Ludwig adopted? Where were his real parents? Did they not want him?

He leaned into Gilbert's cavity of a stomach as they tromped together back through the secret tunnel into the safety of Piyo Tower and its environs.

"I'm sorry, Lud," Gilbert mumbled. "It might not be your wish, but it's the best I could do."

Then he pointed to the foot of the tower. There, a magical picnic feast was set out, for four human children, one voracious changeling, and a great many pigeons, who were already swarming and cooing over the bread.

Ludwig lifted his head. He wiped the trails of tears away and hugged his brother tight.

"I love it! Thank you, brother!"

"Cheeky little pancake-ears."

"You pale spider."

"That's your brother?" Bibi asked.

"But he's a monster," said Thomas.

But with Gilbert squeezing his hand tight, Ludwig could step forward and speak loud and clear for the first time all day.

"You've barely met him!"

Then he bolted to the fabulous spread, set out upon a table enchanted to stretch much longer than usual. Bonfliers flew in the shapes of spheres and hearts and swirling suns above. Tiny sparrows with little aprons scampered about, serving each guest a tall glass of juice. The eagle owls pulled out chairs, and the magpies spooned up extra bowls of soup. Even the baby chickens were allowed to hop and huddle atop the tablecloth.

Ludwig took his place at the table, mouth watering at his brother's famous potato and asparagus soup. Gilbert was already digging in, slurping down his first bowl with a look of malevolent glee. The other children were disturbed by this, but Gilbert shared a smile with his boy and kept on eating. Together, they would face what ludicrous shadows were presented to them.

"So kids, what kinds of mischief do you get up to with my Luddy? Besides taking his mushroom haircut too seriously."

When the sun sank over the western promontory, stretching the black shadow of Piyo Tower over the nesting chickens, Gilbert helped to escort the children back through the secret tunnel and down into the valley. Bellies were full, and minds were at ease. Ada and Bibi had spent an hour gushing over the chicks. Thomas had taken interest in Ludwig's paltry collection of wooden animals. Ludwig had read story upon story and fact upon fact aloud. Gilbert disputed some facts and upheld others, much to the delight of the curious children. And finally, after Ludwig had begged him enough, the changeling demonstrated his magic. First he willed a whirlwind into being, then he transformed into an eagle and braved the wild winds.

There were no mishaps with potions or any injuries to report. By the end of the day, Ludwig was grinning and laughing with his friends like all the days before, with a host of new things to discuss for the future.

But close to the village, Gilbert put his foot down, stopping the children in their tracks. His ears twitched, and his face grew grim.

"People are coming," he said. "Fearful people."

"They don't have to be afraid, right?" Ludwig asked.

Gilbert shook his head. "It is time," he said.

He tapped his pale, spidery fingers along each of Lud's friends' foreheads, humming an eerie melody in his throat. Then he scampered off to hide behind a thick tree and waited.

Adela and her husband burst through the foliage to find Ludwig leading his friends alone.

"Oh, girls, you're safe!" The baker woman shrieked. "Eh, hello, Ludwig."

"We're safe," said Ada, confused. "We just went to Ludwig's house and saw the chickens and picked blueberries."

"Yeah, and Luddy told us stories," said Bibi.

"Is that what happened? Well, Ludwig was a good host, wasn't he? Did you see his brother at all?"

"Mm, no, he wasn't there," Ada said, and her sister agreed.

"Thank you for entertaining them, Ludwig," said Adela. "You're a good friend."

But Ludwig had already vanished into the trees, leaving his friends alone and safe in their journey back to the village.

"I had to take their memories of magic," Gilbert said.

"I know. I wish you didn't have to."

"Was it fun anyway? Is that what you wanted? A… play-date? I thought it was fun. Of course, I never got over my nerves, but I think I succeeded at distracting myself."

"Gilbert, why do people think you're dangerous? Don't they know you're afraid, too?"

Gilbert paused, then pulled Ludwig up to his side and petted his hair — the only good mushroom on the boy.

"No. They don't know I'm afraid, and they'd rather believe I don't feel fear at all. It makes them feel like they have something to fight for. They want to make me seem much bigger and scarier than I am so their cause is meaningful."

"What's their cause?"

"I don't know. But I'm not going to find out. As long as I have you believing in me, I know I'll be okay."

"Don't you want friends?"

Gilbert raised his eyebrows. "Ha! My changelingness is unfair, but a wicked wizard certainly can't have friends!"

Ludwig's smile returned. "I suppose not. You are a pretty wicked wizard. When can we brew more potions together?"

"Would you like to help me brew the most evil of potions tonight?"

"It's a cake mix."

"Cake mix. Right."

"Those potion bottles on your window sill are full of muffin batter, too. To make muffins, not give people muffin-tops."

"Well, shit, Luddy!"

~N~

Episode 20! This is the time when I realize even by age 7-8, Lud's already feeling the tension between being a human kid but also having this weird family situation with a caretaker who raises him differently than his friends. Also, he's got a skewed sense of morality from Gilbert's evil-doings. He sees Gilbert preparing curses, and he's like, "Oh, that's okay. It's like a game," because to a kid, of course the ugly creature is good at wicked deeds, despite how nice he is. But he's not gonna realize until he's much older how bad those behaviors and activities are, and how Gilbert's people have their own problems...

On the day I finish writing this, I'm invited to come pick blueberries at a farm just out of town. XD

Secret person, enjoy your hidden shout-out! Thank you for being a long-time reader and reviewer.

Next episode: The Tales of Edelweiss

Published by Syntax-N FanFiction . Net July 10th, 2020. Tip your pizza servers, you fools. They get a blast of nasty olives in the face when they have to rinse the containers. Don't repost.