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"And start a forest fire that will burn the whole place down?" he asked. "That'd get rid of the wizard's
friends alright. AND Moonshine. AND us. But I'll admit it would save them the trouble of tearing
everything to pieces if you burn it all down first."
Moonshine, feinting forward and with a quick lunge to the rear, caught the bear off guard and escaped,
galloping at top speed back into the courtyard. Maggie stopped talking of burning things and snuggled
protectively against the unicorn's neck, but the look she threw Colin was clearly calculated to singe.
Wizard Raspberry raised the bridge again. Catching the angry looks passing between the two friends, he
intervened on Colin's behalf. "He's right, you know. They think they're just protecting Moonshine and
themselves against the trouble the wolf told them of. If only they'd listen to us for a change."
"Let down that bridge again and I'll make them listen to reason," Maggie snapped. "Those
narrow-minded brute-brained beasts ought to know better than to think any of us would be party to a
scheme like that."
"A few of them do understand human speech," the wizard said mildly, "But I doubt if they'll respond well
to being called narrow-minded brute-brained beasts."
"Oh, I won't say that," she said, reaching past him to lower the drawbridge herself. "I'll be sweet as pie,
you'll see. But I won't be intimidated by a bear or two and a lot of walking fur cloaks."
"Maggie-" Colin began, but was drowned out by a deafening roar as Maggie strode out onto the bridge.
Moonshine leapt forward. "I'll defend you, Maiden!"
"Don't be silly. You saw how vicious that bear was," she called back over her shoulder. "If you're killed
defending me all of this will be worthless, won't it?"
The roar grew until it shook the ground, and the animals surged forward, onto the bridge. Maggie didn't
falter, and kept her expression calm, gentle and kind. Whether or not her voice matched it, or whether
indeed she said anything at all, Colin couldn't have said, for he couldn't hear a thing over the roaring.
Bonebelcher growled and snuffled a challenge, and charged. Hot on his heels ran the boar and his family
of wild pigs, while the birds pecked and plucked at Maggie's hair.
Above the roar, Colin heard her yell, "Just a cross-cursed minute, you beasts!" and the bridge was
suddenly laden with throngs of scampering, scurrying, charging, crawling beasts all trying to attack the
witch.
Moonshine screamed a high, piercing scream and shot forward, his horn working like a scythe, cutting
feathers and fur from his path to his maiden. Wizard Raspberry jumped into the fray too, and tried to pull
Maggie away from her attackers, but was himself attacked.
Colin raised his sword, Banshee Bringer, and started forward, yodeling a particularly effective battle
song he'd heard His Majesty singing while in his cups. To Colin's total amazement, his voice carried high
over all the racket, and the animals began melting from the bridge in droves.
"Wha-?" he stopped and saw Maggie, scratched and bruised but basically whole, being helped to her
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feet from beneath Moonshine's shielding belly by the wizard.
As soon as Colin ceased his song, the animals renewed their attack.
"Keep singing!" Raspberry called. And Colin did, continuing the battle song and looking as menacing as
he possibly could until they were all safely back within the courtyard with the bridge up again.
"This is getting monotonous," Maggie panted. "No matter what we try to say or who tries to talk to them
they just don't listen."
"Aye. I'm glad you've proved that to your own satisfaction, witch, after almost costing us all our lives,"
Colin said. "I'm afraid my singing battle songs isn't going to improve their impression of us on any sort of
permanent basis. They don't need any more ranting and yelling, that mob. They need to calm down a bit,
before they tear this castle apart stick by stick."
"Perhaps another, more soothing song?" the wizard suggested.
"You must be jesting!" Maggie said. "Anything more soothing than a tribe of dragons in full flame would
be lost on that bunch!"
"It's worth a try," Colin told her coldly. "My voice DOES carry rather well, so I've always been told. It's
the siren blood, I suppose."
Maggie sniffed, and dabbed at a scratch on her arm with a spit-wet fingertip. "Well, unless you want to
see your siren blood all over the ground, and ours with it, may I suggest from recent bitter experience that
you conduct your serenade from the tower instead of the bridge?"
He knew a good suggestion when he heard one. "Right," he nodded, and headed for the door.
"Colin," she called after him. "Watch out for the birds, won't you?"
At first nothing seemed to happen.
Colin had decided to use a tin whistle to play a gentle air. rather than spend his voice on singing and risk
having it fail him. He raised it, trembling, to his lips, and feared for a moment his breath would refuse to
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