Beyond the Wicked Willow: Chronicles of a Teenage Witchslayer

A DYING LAST WISH

Frankie and the others had finally crossed the Torrid Plain and were nearing the Hallowed Woodland of the Befana, but they still had a ways to go. At the moment, they stood at the edge of the fast-running Crati River, amid an idyllic goat pasture, high in the Sila Mountains. Above them, within sight, the headwaters raged down a vast network of steep rocky gullies, gathering great strength before merging. From the point at which Frankie and the others stood, the torrent proceeded to flow swiftly north all the way up through Cosenza, some twenty miles away, from where Alaric had recently departed.

"Don't worry, we'll help you all the way across. Besides, it's only waist deep," Frankie reassured Bookworm.

"You can drown in a bathtub. Even a puddle. I can't do it—I hate water," Bookworm said nervously.

"That would explain the funny smell," said Beef, as he nudged Sam with an elbow, fishing for a laugh. When all he got out of her was a sober scowl, his silly grin melted into a bashful air of embarrassment.

"Enough delay. We have no choice but to cross. Prepare yourselves," insisted Ambroggio sternly.

"It's almost morning," Bookworm whined, "can't we at least wait until then? We'll be able to see much better."

Ambroggio ignored Bookworm completely. He unshouldered his carry sack, dropped it onto the ground, and knelt down beside it. He reached in and pulled out the large snare net he had salvaged after rescuing Frankie and the others from the Strega's wolves. He began to unfold it and, after a moment, he looked up at Frankie and the others.

"Well, don't everyone clamber to help at once—I wouldn't want to see any of you break a sweat," said Ambroggio sarcastically.

Beef let out a snicker and at the very moment he did, Ambroggio drew his whip with uncanny speed. With a quick flick of his wrist the whip bolted through the air and coiled tightly around Beef 's legs in the mere blink of an eye. Ambroggio yanked swiftly on the hilt—Beef 's husky body jerked forward, and he fell onto his knees directly in front of the net, face to face with Ambroggio. Beef 's startled eyes locked with Ambroggio's.

"I'd like to help if it's okay with you?" offered Beef, as if he had any choice in the matter.

"Ah, very benevolent of you, young man. I thank you kindly for your unsolicited goodwill," he said as he freed his whip and furled it back up.

Ambroggio turned a suggestive eye to the others. They nearly knocked each other over as they frantically scrambled to pitch in. With that, Ambroggio stood up, backed away, and watched his newfound helpers finish spreading the net. Fully extended the net measured some fifteen feet by fifteen feet. Ambroggio stroked his chin as he stood back and studied it for a moment. He then drew his trusty dagger and set to work slicing a four-foot wide strip from one entire edge of the net. When he was done he looked up to the others and pointed at the larger remaining section. "Shall I fold and bag that myself?" he asked pointedly.

With no snicker this time, Beef dove at the net and began folding it, and the others were hot on his heels and doing the same. With a new sense of urgency, they worked diligently together and finished the job promptly under Ambroggio's watchful eye.

"A strong fellowship is a force to be reckoned with," said Ambroggio. "Here, it makes a simple task simpler. Elsewhere, it could save a life."

Frankie and his pals looked at one another as Ambroggio's words hung heavily in the air. Giacomo also considered Ambroggio's words. He was quietly seated atop Ardimento looking down over the lot of them. His eyes met with Frankie's and in that brief moment they both seemed to be reminded of the harsh reality of the life or death nature of the situation. Ambroggio wasted no time at all, continuing instead to toil away on his project with the narrow strip of net. With the strip laid out straight, Ambroggio traced his way down the centerline with his dagger, opening the gaps in the mesh wider every couple of feet. He fashioned six separate holes, slicing some larger than others. When he finished, he stood up, sheathed his dagger, and dusted off his hands as he inspected his work.