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The Escape

  After burying her friend, the old raven, Laelia imagined a black mourning veil draped over her head and shoulders, suffocating her with grief. She would never see her friend again; it was all too cruel. Sadness robbed Laelia of courage and the idea of escaping from the catacombs now seemed impossible. She looked up at the sky once more and saw the green moon still lingering in the morning light. She wanted desperately to believe it was a good omen.

  Breaking into her thoughts, Laelia heard Zote grumbling. He was no longer paying attention to her, as he was absorbed in his own discomfort. The wolfberries did not fully heal his stomach wounds. Laelia felt a fleeting moment of pity for her captor, but it vanished as she realized this was the moment; this was what she had been waiting for. Determination wrapped itself around Laelia like a warm robe.

  Her last task the previous night, before falling into the web of nightmares, was to prepare a potion from the red lilies she and Zote had gathered. After pressing the petals and draining them of their nectar, Laelia had saturated a small piece of cloth with the potent drug. A bog witch in her own right, she knew that the potion’s sweet taste would please Zote. In time, the lilies’ drug would cast a spell over Zote, consuming him in sleep.

  As she glanced at Zote, she could feel the cloth hidden in her pocket. For her plan to work, she must persuade him to go back near the lake. Laelia spoke with gentleness, reminding him of the sweetness of strawberries growing near the water. She also told him the lakeside lilies, brimming with sugar, would soothe his stomachache.

  His mood changed at the thought of something sugary in his mouth. He remembered the fragrant clusters that floated along the lake’s muddied edges. Convinced they would have to gather strawberries and water lilies, Zote agreed to go back into the bog. He never once thought of the lake’s deep, dark water.

  Once near the lake, Laelia kept Zote busy collecting the sweet berries while she gathered lilies. She also selected a round flat lily pad, which she curled into a perfect cup. Filling the cup with water, she took the cloth saturated with her potion and doused it in the water, releasing the drug. After placing plump strawberries on top, she handed the drink to Zote.

  Upon seeing this, Zote knew the drink would be sweet and swallowed the potion- laced water and strawberries in one gulp. Laelia was sure the red lilies’ drug would induce sleep. Unfortunately, instead of making Zote sleepy as she had hoped, the potion was too weak and upset his stomach! Within minutes, Zote was bellowing that her sugary potion made his stomach hurt even more. In spite of this glitch in her plan, Laelia knew that if she jumped into the deep water, Zote would not follow her. As he moved toward her, clutching his fists, Laelia bolted to the lake’s edge and leaped into its darkness.

  Laelia’s sudden plunge startled Zote. He panicked at the sight of her hair swirling like weeds in the water. The little troll was drowning. Zote’s mind screamed this cannot happen! He dashed to the edge of the lake to rescue Laelia, but stopped. The thought of sinking into a bottomless pit with water filling his mouth and nose paralyzed him. But he must save Laelia at the risk of his own life.

  Searching wildly for a long stick he could extend to Laelia, he was stunned to see the little troll swimming away with strong, deliberate strokes. Her powerful tail, undulating just below the water’s surface, carried her away from him toward the center of the lake. Laelia was not sinking into the dark water; she was escaping, making a fool of him.

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  His temper flared into a fit as rage rolled up and into Zote’s throat, nearly choking him. He howled a mournful cry that escalated into a roar, turning the skin under his shaggy beard a bright red. Leaping and stomping with all the strength his legs could endure, he tried to keep up with Laelia from the lake’s shore. The little troll tricked him. His angry caterwauling echoed across the lake.

  The moment Laelia jumped into the water, she felt the exhilaration of being free. However, this feeling quickly turned to despair—the failure of her potion to subdue Zote was a major problem in her plan. She was safe as long as she trod water and stayed in the middle of the lake, but if she approached the shore, Zote could recapture her. Her muscles weakened with fear. The thought of being recaptured and taken back to the foul-smelling cave seized Laelia’s spirit, nearly pulling her down into the dark water so feared by Zote. Hopelessness, in its deadly form, played with the little troll’s mind. But some unknown “fire within” burst into flames giving her the strength she needed to fight back.

  Across the lake, Odin, Punga, Amal and Manti hurried down through the scattered haystacks. As the rescuers approached the shoreline opposite where they had seen Zote and Laelia, they heard howls like those of a crazed bear coming across the lake. When they saw that the racket was coming from Zote and there was no sign of Laelia, they feared for her life.

  When Odin saw the small troll swimming in the middle of the lake, he recognized his sister. Without a word, he pulled the flute from his pack and started to play; his music trembled in the air.

  Laelia recognized the song’s plaintive notes that wailed like a lost spirit; it could only be her brother. She began to tread water, keeping herself afloat until she could determine from which direction the melody was coming. When Laelia was sure which shore the music floated from, she swam toward freedom with all of her strength.

  Punga, perched high on Odin’s head, watched Laelia treading water in the middle of the lake. When he saw her strong tail once again whipping back and forth in the black water, he was sure that the song of her brother’s flute guided her straight and true.

  Zote also heard the flute, but he did not find the melody enchanting and quickly determined from whence it came. As he looked toward the source of the music, his dim- witted mind grasped the fact that the annoying flute was being played by her brother. Realizing Laelia was heading for the safety of the lake’s opposite shore, Zote again shouted in rage. Then, a gruesome grin crossed his hairy face. Sunlight bounced off his blackened teeth as a thought rose up in his slow mind—he was not afraid of Laelia’s brother. He was confident that he would either get the little troll back or Mt. Grieg would be his.

  Now focused on Zote hopping and ranting on the opposite shore, Punga could see the situation was drastic as this angry troll now raced around the water’s edge. Punga climbed down from his perch atop Odin’s head and alerted his friend to make himself ready. The crazed troll was nearly upon them.

  Laelia was grateful for the steady hands offered by Amal as she stumbled along the lake’s edge. She recognized his kind eyes; he was the small troll she had seen the night of the oil troll’s raid. An albino troll hobbled over to assist Amal. She remembered how often her mother spoke of the bog witch. Now the old witch was here helping her escape. In spite of her weariness, Laelia’s heart beat fervently to the song of freedom. There stood her brother, his hair blazing copper red in the sun’s rays and his blue eyes brimming with tears. At the sight of Odin, Laelia’s fear vanished.

  Wet and trembling, with nearly all of her strength gone, Laelia moved away from the water. But as she approached her brother, she stopped as a new wave of fear flooded her body. There Odin stood without a spear and atlatl! Her rescuers were an ancient albino witch, a lame troll, a small cricket and her unarmed brother. Apparently unconcerned about the danger, he calmly played irritating high-pitched whistles on his flute.