The Laily Worm, Part II

The Laily Worm, Part II:

"For the Strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the Strength of the Wolf is the Pack."

-- Rudyard Kipling

Late September, Coludi, Scotland, ca. 650 A.D.

Cuthbert listened to the abbess with concern. "I knew you must be in distress, Lady Abbess, when I received your message," he said. "I've heard of this creature, in ballads sung by folk in my country. You tell me it pulls whole ships down into the sea, with no trace: has anyone seen the monster do this?"

"The only witnesses were a shepherd and his family, who were walking along the clifftop path and saw the last ship go down. They tell of a whirlpool that sucked the ship under, and of huge black coils in the water, as thick as a house is tall, surrounding the ship. I know the family; they are honest folk, and not given to drink. Moreover, their young children were with them: a remarkably bright-eyed pair of young imps." The Abbess Ebbe smiled, the look of worry leaving her face momentarily.

She had heard great things of this young priest--she hoped her suspicions were true. She was hoping for a wizard's power. The Church, with its system of abbeys and monasteries, was a refuge for many witches and wizards, who put their powers to use protecting people. The work done in this way was seen by the people they served as miracles from heaven--sometimes seen as such by the witches and wizards themselves. Ebbe knew that Cuthbert was English, a man of low birth, born to country folk somewhere north of the Wall. He was beloved and revered by all who knew him, and reputed to perform miracles. She was greatly encouraged by his courteous manner and his air of quiet protectiveness. Her people needed a miracle. Three ships had disappeared in the past three months, all in calm weather.

Cuthbert looked thoughtful. Sea monsters were outside his experience, but likely to be creatures of the Dark. He had dealt with Dark creatures before. "I will try to confront and banish this Worm for you, my lady," he said. He was doubtful whether she was aware of his wizard status, so he said, "With the help of Almighty God." He smiled at her reassuringly, and gave her a phrase from his old granddad's plentiful stock, always used to herald difficult endeavours: "We shall do our best, and the best can do no more!" He stood up then, a young giant, big, blond and powerful, a comforting figure, a natural protector. "If you'll excuse me, my lady, I shall walk that clifftop path, then down by the sands, and think how to approach the creature. I hope that I will be able to be of use to you and your people."

Cuthbert took his staff, a very useful piece of equipment he had carried ever since that trouble with the infection in his knee, and set off down the path. If the Worm was just out there, where the water began to get deep, he was sure he could Call it, and then pin it down with a curse. He thought he could put together a curse powerful enough to hold the monster, if he could get close enough to it. He set to work composing a suitable curse.

It took two days to choose the words of power. On the night of the second day, when he thought all the brothers would be asleep, Cuthbert quietly left his cot in the monastery and walked down to the sea. He waded into the cold water up to his shoulders and began the Calling. Spreading his arms over his head, the soft, irresistible phrases in Cuthbert's mind formed an invisible, inaudible web, luring the Worm. He pointed his staff in the direction of the ship's disappearance, on the grounds that it would likely be down there still, sleeping off the dreadful meal.

Waves roiled up, ahead of him. It had heard; it was coming. He prepared his mind for the Curse. The Worm reared up in front of him, taller than the mast of a ship, black, impossibly huge, its face unspeakable, its mouth wide open, gigantic, with hundreds of long, thin teeth like lances and swords. Cuthbert stared at the Worm, his blue eyes furious, a hot, fierce, deliberate anger building up inside him. This was the disgusting creature who dared harm his helpless people! Pointing his staff between the huge, gaping sockets where its eyes should have been, he roared out the words he had chosen, slowly, menacingly, majestically:

"Cowardly, cold-skinned object,

Slithering, shameful snake,

Learn now of your contemptible extraction!

Darkness it was that first uncoiled you,

As it did many crawling vermin,

And many evil and vicious monsters.

Cruel, devious devil's minion,

No more shall the blood of my people refresh you!

I command you--I, Cuthbert.

Hear my words, hear and obey!

Hissing horror with spiny scales,

Long-fanged, loathly thing,

Sink into a stony hollow,

A deep, dark, bottomless burrow in the sea,

And be not released!

I, Cuthbert, set thee there,

And grant thee no goodness or help,

Forever banished!"

The Worm recoiled. Waves arose, crashing over Cuthbert's head as the monster retreated. Cuthbert stood immovable, the fierce light in his eyes unabated, the staff pointing at the Worm's head. The Worm sank slowly into the sea. The waves lessened, grew quiet. The sun came up, reddening the sea in front of Cuthbert. At last he turned, waded slowly ashore, and sank down on the sand.

A pair of otters trotted down to the shore and greeted him as if in gratitude, sliding their bodies around his feet. Touched and comforted by their friendly gesture, Cuthbert scratched them behind their ears, as if they had been the abbey cats. He was exhausted, and suddenly very hungry: he wished someone could get him a decent breakfast. These Scots were too fond of porridge for his liking.

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Late September, the North Sea, 1994

She swam alone, toward the islands. Every year she made this trip--to the Place. The Place where her baby would be born. The Place where They would be: her Kindred. Where He would be. It would be a noisy time, a social time, a time for mothering, for mating, for companionship. She was a grey seal. She swam alone, but on land, she liked a bit of company.

Some of her Kindred felt such strong curiosity, or such a strong urge for the dry-land companionship, that they removed their seal-skins and lived as humans for varying lengths of time: Selkies, humans called them. She had never tried it, herself, but she knew others who had. She'd heard that humans who'd been born human could not become seals at will, and she wondered how they caught their food.

The water began to feel right: it began to smell right. She surfaced, her dark eyes scanning the horizon. Those were the Rocks: she was close. She saw a ship off to the right of the Rocks, making a path at right angles to her own. Suddenly, the ship changed its course: it doubled back on itself, began circling in tighter and tighter revolutions till it was spinning around in one spot, faster and faster. The water boiled around it in great waves, and there appeared to be huge loops of black coiled around, surrounding the ship.

She heard screaming from the humans on the ship, heard a roaring, rushing sound as the water billowed up, swamping the vessel. The waves reached her, providing her body with strange information: she didn't know what sort of creature created waves like that. She didn't know of any creature that hunted humans in ships. It was huge. It had a wrong smell, a wrong feeling. She made her mind very quiet, then turned and swam away from the place where the ship had gone down.

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Late September, Longstone, the Farne Islands

Alice stood outside the door of her lighthouse, hands on her hips, looking intently across the sea towards the mainland. She was dressed in a shapeless blue fisherman's jersey and grey woollen trousers, hanging loosely on her lanky frame. Her long, unruly white hair, tied in back with a bit of string, blew wildly in thw morning breeze.. She wore a grey wool hat with a small brim, casting her eyes in deep shadow and causing her long, pointed nose and chin to seem even more prominent. She was tall and erect, a striking woman, oddly blending in rather than dominating the scene. An excursion boat passed by, carrying eight or ten tourists, sailing round the islands. The sightseers excitedly pointed out the lighthouse to each other, their voices carrying easily over the water, all of them failing to notice Alice directly in front of the door. Alice ignored the boat; she was waiting for company. And suddenly, there they were, down by the water's edge.

"Alice, it's lovely to see you again! You look wonderful!" Andie rushed up the bank to the old woman and gave her a hug. Apparating from the Hut had been uneventful, except in Sirius's case: he had missed the shore by a few yards and came floundering in from waist-high water, stumbling over rocks and sliding a bit on the brown seaweed.

"This is my brother Sirius, and this is Remus Lupin." Andie proudly presented her Pack for Alice's inspection. Alice looked them over with an appraising air.

"Sirius? It's Black, innit? You're that Sirius Black I've heard so much about, what was it?..... Oh aye, I remember: you're Moody's prize pupil he was so proud of, a few years ago. Mad-Eye always said you'd make a name for yourself one of these days." Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"...and this lad, Remus? Your beau, I take it? Pity I'm not fifty years younger, lass: I'd give you something to worry about." She barked a laugh at the discomfiture she'd caused all around, and led them into the lighthouse.

Old Alice's chowder was delicious, her hand-drawn charts meticulous. She pointed out the Farne Islands as they formed a ragged arc, a group of some twenty-odd bits of black rock extending in a northeasterly line out into the North Sea from the Northumberland coast. None was large enough to support human habitation, though there had been a settlement of monks living on Inner Farne, back in the Dark Ages. Alice was the only human resident.

"First time I saw anything, I was here, just off Longstone's seaward shore. Broad daylight, clear sky, calm sea for these islands, no reason for the boat to be in trouble. It stopped, doubled back, started swinging around like it was tied to the bottom. The water swirled around like there was something under there, but what it was I couldn't tell you. Whatever it was, though, it was big: it completely circled that ship, at least twice.

"The second one was further north, on the way up to Lindisfarne, with a full load of tourists. The sea looked the same, the ship spun around, and this time I got a better look at the body of this thing: its coils. I'd say they were about ten feet through the middle, and long enough to make two loops around the ship. It acted like some sort of snake, and then when the ship went down, the creature disappeared along with it. The sound of those poor souls on board that ship is something I hope I never hear again." She looked sombre, paused a moment, then continued.

"There was a third disappearance, just yesterday. I didn't see it; I was around the south side of Inner Farne and the wreck happened up here, off North Wamses. It was all over Muggle news, though; this being the third one, folk are getting a bit concerned. Nobody's suggested a monster, though, so there's time to do something about it if we can."

Andie continued studying the chart. "What can you tell me about the seals, Alice? You said they'd been behaving strangely. I'd like to talk to some of them if I can." She looked up at the other two. "The first time I came here, I was tremendously excited about meeting seals. I think I had some notion of establishing family ties or something, since our grandmother was one. I used to feel lonely sometimes, not having a proper family to go home to." Her family, on either side of her, glanced at each other and Remus put a hand on her shoulder. She reached up and touched his hand.

"Anyway," she went on, "Seals' attitudes about such things are a lot different from ours. They like us: they think we're funny, always up to something, good for a laugh. They'd accept any human, if they thought his intentions were good. It seems to be a matter of curiosity with them, turning into a human for a few seasons, just to see how it is on land. Any of them could do it, if they liked.

"But seals wean their babies in just a few weeks: there's no special distinction after that between one seal and another. They don't even have names. They call themselves "us" when they're on land, and "me" when they're in the water. So it turned out that I was nothing special to them, except I could talk to them. They thought I was pretty clever, for a human." She smiled, at the thought of the seals, and at her own innocence back then. The seals had always been able to cheer her up.

Alice nodded and pointed southward on the chart. "Your seals are coming home thick and fast just now: It's their calving season, and after that, mating time. But this year they're only settling down on the south shores, and on islands nearest the mainland. They don't even swim on the north shores if they can help it, and the ones that come down from the north are making a wide circle around the north side of the islands. I think they know something's not right out there and they're staying out of its way. It's crowding some of the beaches; there's more squabbling for space than there usually is. If you want to see them now, we can take my boat and go looking around. We may run into birdwatchers around Staple Island or Farne, or a boatload of tourists, but they generally don't notice me." She grinned. "Can either of you lads handle a boat?"

In the end, Alice did the handling.The Pack followed her to the water's edge, watched while she put her fingers to her lips and whistled. A tiny boat Apparated in front of them, quivering gently, eagerly, like a dog about to be taken for a walk. It seemed to be larger than it looked, however, for it held all of them comfortably.They all stepped in and found seats. Alice remarked on the calm, sunny weather and the easy sea, but the waves were high and choppy compared to the southern seas the Pack were used to. The spray, however, always seemed to miss them, arching gracefully over their heads and never coming down inside the boat.

Seen up close, from the water's surface, the islands were stark, bare, and forbidding: set about with huge black columns of stone rising vertically out of the sea and tumbled about like the supports of some fabled Atlantean ruins. Actual ruins of Muggle buildings adorned some of the larger ones, as well as a few lighthouses, most abandoned; some automated, Muggle fashion. Thousands of seabirds created unending noise, and at first there seemed to be no seals anywhere. As they sailed for a couple of miles to the southwest, however, they began to see groups of grey seals hauled out on the shores, sunning. They often curled their heads and tails upward, looking from a distance, Remus said, like large grey mottled soapdishes. They smiled and waved at Alice as she sailed in closer to the nearest group.

Andie's presence created a stir among the seals: "This one can talk! How clever!" The seals were plainly delighted with her, but grew solemn as she began to question them about the Presence to the north. "Yes, we know of it," they told her. "It makes coldness; it hunts ships. It doesn't breathe. It is old; our Kindred have told us about it. Of old it was caught and held still. That was Before. We make our minds quiet and it doesn't see us. Are you going to hunt it? Kill it if you can; it is Wrong. It smells wrong and it feels wrong. We don't want to think of it now: the sun is warm and we are together. Lie here in the sun with us for a while!"

And so they did. Alice, plainly used to invitations of this kind, flopped down among them and stretched out full length, closing her eyes. The Pack, more circumspect, chose the driest spots they could find. Andie continued her conversations with several seals at once, apparently telling jokes, judging from the laughter that went on. It was an odd conversation to listen to: half silence, half seal barks. Andie's gift of speech with animals seemed to be of the telepathic variety. Remus, following Alice's lead, stretched out and closed his eyes.

Sirius, however, was intrigued. Being close to the seals was exciting--an unexpectedly moving experience, inexplicable. Frowning, he listened to Andie and the seals for a time, trying to make sense of the words and shaking his head in frustration. He transformed. Padfoot stood there, his head cocked, his tail waving tentatively. The seals were delighted: "Look, how clever; how funny, this one can Change! What sort of creature is he now? A dog? We remember dogs." Padfoot barked in delight: he could understand them! A female next to him said, "We're glad you can hear us."

Padfoot spent the rest of the day in discussion with a number of seals: a stumbling, exploratory conversation, with insights gained on both sides, and great hilarity. When Padfoot became excited, his first inclination was to jump and run: the seals, on the other hand, were relatively stationary by choice, on land. His friskiness brought on laughter and teasing from the seals, and from his sister. Eventually, one of the seals said, "I'm hunting now," and headed for the water. One by one, several others followed her example. Alice sat up, and said, "Let's go home and have our tea."

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"It's amazing, how they think," said Sirius, who had not stopped talking about the seals. "I tried saying that you were my sister, but they just laughed at me. They don't have sisters, it seems. I tried to talk about the Pack, thinking they look like a Pack, but that didn't work either. I was leaving out Alice, and the seals themselves-- and they don't understand exclusion. The only thing I could say, finally, was "We are Kindred," and again they just laughed at me, because I was stating the obvious. They said, "Well, of course," as if I were an idiot child. I tried asking them about the harbour seals, since the ones in our group were all grey seals, but they consider them Kindred too. Apparently anybody on the beach is Kindred."

Alice looked at him approvingly. "Well done, laddie! You've understood more about 'em in one day than most folk do in a lifetime. It took me years to put it together like that. Mind you, it helps that you can talk to 'em. Nobody ever mentioned to me that you were an Animagus." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Nobody mentioned a Pack to me either. Is that you three?" She turned to Remus. "What about you, laddie? This one's a dog, and this one can talk to all animals: how do you fit into the Pack?"

Sirius looked sharply at her, but said nothing.

Remus smiled. "I'm a Wolf, sometimes."

"'Sometimes'? D'you mean, at the full moon?" Alice grinned at him in what he assumed was an encouraging way: she didn't seem alarmed at the prospect of his being a werewolf. Remus thought that very few things would alarm her.

"It used to be that way. For the past month, though, I've been transforming at will, like any other Animagus. These two came up with a potion and a spell that seemed to calm the Wolf into trusting us. I've made it through two full moons, with their help, not turning into a monster. We're hoping it lasts; there's a lot less grief involved this way, for everyone."

He turned to Andie, not particularly eager to pursue the 'full moon' conversation any further. "Did the seals have anything to say about our present problem?"

"Quite a bit, actually. There is something out there, and it sounds to me as though it could be a sea snake, or maybe even a dragon. They say it "makes coldness", whatever that means; that it's been there a long time, but wasn't active till just recently. They also say that if they make their minds quiet, it isn't aware of them. That sounds as though it is some kind of hunter; the smell of fear is a very real thing. They're afraid of it, as much as seals can be afraid. They say it "smells wrong". Oh, another thing: it may be totally aquatic: they say it doesn't breathe. That may mean it has gills, that it never surfaces for air." She paused for a moment, then added, "They say we should kill it."

Sirius pushed his chair back. "I think it's time we went to our 'background reading'," he sighed. Turning to Alice, he explained: "Dumbledore showed up a couple of days ago with a pile of books he thought would be helpful, but we haven't read any of them yet." He grinned suddenly at her. "It's not everyone I'd go back to school for, lass: I'll do it for you, though. Anyway, I've had enough of this." With a bark of laughter very much like her own, he Disapparated.

Remus and Andie looked at each other, baffled. "Alice, I have to apologise for Sirius," said Andie. "I have no idea what that was about."

Alice laughed appreciatively. "Don't you? Seems to me he was just disapproving of me asking awkward questions of your werewolf. Didn't you notice him glowering at me? Oh aye, that's a proper watchdog you have there, hinnie. Just a friendly snap, and then off he goes, to let me know he does trust me alone with you, after all. He didn't want to look foolish by defending your friend here against an old lady, but no, he didn't care for my style of questioning. No wonder he and Moody got on so well together: he reminds me of Moody, so he does." She gave another bark of laughter and stood up. "You two go on home now; tell your Dog I won't eat you, and tomorrow we'll sail further north to see what we can see."

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They found Sirius on the front doorstep of the Hut, a cup of tea beside him and a book in his hand. "Listen to this," he said: "It's a ballad from the area right around Alice's islands. Apparently people used to turn their stepchildren into monsters. This witch turned her husband's son into a Laily Worm--"Loathly Monster" to us--and his daughter into a 'machrel of the sea'. A fish, I would have thought. Except that every Saturday she came out of the sea to comb her brother's loathly hair. He stayed wrapped around a tree the rest of the time, and ate people who came by. Seems to me that, however much of a nuisance they were to her as humans, the loathly transformations couldn't have been much of an improvement."

Andie looked sternly at him. "You were quite loathly, yourself, back there at Alice's. What made you snap at her like that?"

"Oh, she didn't mind. I just wanted to let her know I was onto her. She had to have already known about the Pack. And she had to know about Padfoot, and the Wolf, if she's been in touch with Dumbledore--and we know she has been. She just wanted to see what we'd say. She's a lot like Moody: put others at a disadvantage, keep them off balance, and they'll give something away. I like old Alice, really. This job should be fun." Sirius showed his teeth in his wolfish grin, his eyes full of mischief.

Remus listened with amusement and satisfaction. This Sirius--lively, calculating, teasing, intrigued by challenges--this was the Sirius he'd known long ago, at school. The spectre of Azkaban was definitely receding. Alice and Sirius could snipe at each other all Autumn, if it made them happy.

He took the book from Sirius. "'Worm Legends of the Northeast': You mean there's more than one?" He thumbed through the book. "Any written descriptions? The illustrator seems to favour the 'St. George and the Dragon' theme, although here's one that looks like a moray eel with whiskers." He stopped to read a passage now and then, or a verse.

"Here's one about a lad who kills a Worm, but then is commanded to kill the first thing he sees afterwards. It turns out to be his own father, so he can't do it, of course. So the witch, who had given him the power to slay the Worm, curses his family. 'None of his line will ever have a peaceful death.' Where do they get this rubbish? I've known some stupid witches in my time, but these people can't remember which side they're on from one verse to the next." He handed the book back to Sirius. "I don't see how Dumbledore thought this would help us."

Sirius looked up at him. "I think the fact that these tales exist at all, and the fact that they're all connected with this area, is the whole point. This is a Muggle book, remember. Any people who had seen anything at the beginning were probably hit with a Memory Charm--but they remembered something anyway: something horrible. We can't take these stories at face value, certainly, but maybe they have a common source. I'll bet there wasn't more than one monster, at the beginning. And I don't think it was created by anyone's stepmother."

Andie interrupted. "If this is what's taking ships now, how could there be just one? Are you saying this animal has been alive for all these centuries? Those old legends go back for thousands of years, some of them. More likely, there's a family of some sort of serpent in those waters: maybe succeeding generations caused trouble and were spotted at different times over the years."

"I'm inclined to agree with Sirius, on the strength of what we know so far," put in Remus. "The seals told you it had been here 'Before', but hadn't been active. Maybe one of the unlikely heroes in "Worm Legends" actually succeeded in immobilising it, or cursing it in some way, and it's only just got free.

"Another thing to consider--and I think this may be likely--is that this thing may not be an animal at all: it may be a Dark creature of some sort, like a... a Boggart, only on a much bigger scale." (He decided not to say, 'like a dementor.') "Think: it's been there a long time; it 'makes coldness'; it is 'Wrong'; and it doesn't breathe. All those things together make me think it's a Dark thing. And the seals want us to kill it. They're not malicious animals."

"What we need is more information," said Andie. "It's getting too dark to read out here anyway; let's go in and get on with these books."

The three hands on the new clock pointed serenely to "Home."

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The days unfolded into a pleasant pattern: study in the evenings, making rounds of the islands and mainland coastline with Alice during the days. Alice's little boat took a distinct liking to Sirius: it came scraping out of the water, up the rocks to him, at his whistle, to his amusement and her pretended annoyance. He was now allowed to steer it also, but since Alice was the one who knew the water, this meant he had to take directions from her, or at times from the boat itself. Andie and Remus rolled their eyes at each other, and tried to ignore the discussions this led to.

They visited several coastal village pubs and cafes, listening to local gossip and gathering impressions. No word of any strange sea creature was heard, but Alice and the Pack were welcomed cordially, and exchanged information with the local inhabitants about weather, seals, shipping traffic and the best places along the coast for a good meal. Andie and Remus collected a number of admiring comments about their magnificent black dog. The weather stayed relatively fine, and they were able to search thoroughly and systematically.

Consulting with the seals always brought the same reports: "It's there to the North, not far. It's hunting. It smells Wrong." .

At the Hut, in the evenings, there were more questions than answers. The Pack slowly worked their way through Dumbledore's background reading: they now knew the calculations necessary for determining high and low tide times on any of the islands; they knew the various species of birds which nested there; they knew the details of every shipwreck that had happened around the Farnes for the past two hundred years and before. They knew about Grace Darling, a young Muggle woman who in 1838 had rowed out in a howling storm with her father from Alice's lighthouse to rescue some shipwreck victims. They knew nothing about the monster.

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Two weeks into October, the weather changed: it rained and blew until at times it was difficult to tell the sea from the air. Alice's little boat continued to keep them dry when they were at sea, but the minute they pulled into a shore, they were drenched, and nearly flattened by the wind. Alice had shown them the Sighting Charm, for using a wand as a telescope, so that they could see for long distances through the rain, but it was still nearly impossible to do any systematic searching. On Tuesday, after two days of these conditions, Alice said, "We're not doing any good in this. We'll give it a couple days for the storm to break and try again on Friday. You lot stay home and read." Grinning up at Sirius, she added, "I'm that tired of putting up with you every day anyway."

Sirius grinned back at her and replied, "Some people are so sharp they'll cut themselves. You just try to keep yourself out of trouble while we sit home, IN PEACE, and watch the moon. We'll be back Friday, no fear."

"That's Alice for you," said Sirius, when they reached home. "She knows as well as we do that tomorrow night's the full moon, and she wanted to give us time to deal with it. She'd rather die than say so, though, for fear I'd think she was going soft. I wish we could trust her to stay in, too: I don't like the thought that she'll be out in that weather by herself, with the Worm somewhere. It's not a good sign that we haven't seen it lately. If Remus's theory is correct, about its being a Dark creature, it may be more active about now, too."

"Well, I'm not convinced that he's correct," said Andie, "but if you think we should, we can go back there tomorrow and make sure she stays in. In the meantime, though, let's get the fire going and see what's left in the pile of books. Here are a couple that I'll leave to you two, I think: I'm fairly slow at Latin." She handed one each to Remus and Sirius and turned her attention to the fireplace.

Both books were small, very old, and handwritten; one appeared to be a Muggle text, and one a Wizard volume with the name "Cuthbertus" on the inside cover. "These both appear to be about Cuthbert," said Remus. "I remember him; I stayed awake for a few History of Magic classes! He lived in the Farnes for a while, as a priest, back in the 600's, I believe. He worked with Muggles, healing them, driving out demons, that sort of thing. It was pretty wild back then, especially in places like this. This appears to be Bede's account of his life, written only about thirty years after Cuthbert died. Well, let's see what we can find." He settled back in one of the chairs, called a candle over to him, and began to read.

Some time later, Sirius, who had been stretched out on the carpet with his book, sat up and turned to the others. "Listen to this," he said. "I think this must be the Worm itself. This book is Cuthbert's own journal, by the way, written for wizards, not Muggles. He was a priest when this happened, a protector and healer travelling all over Northumberland. There was a woman named Ebbe, the head of a monastery just up the coast in Scotland, the half-sister of King Oswy. She wrote to Cuthbert and asked him for help against a Worm that had been attacking ships. And listen: it swam round and round the ship, causing it to turn in circles--then it swallowed the ship whole while the crew screamed. That's exactly what Alice said about the two wrecks she saw: there has to be a connection."

Remus looked at him with interest. "I read what must be the same account in this book, a couple of pages ago, about his being invited up to Scotland. No mention of any monster, though. It just says he spent the night in the sea praying, and the next morning a pair of otters came down to greet him on the beach. A monk from the abbey followed him down, and watched him all night. Cuthbert blessed him, and told him not to tell anyone."

"Slapped a Memory Charm on him, it says here. Cuthbert stood in the sea looking toward the place where the ship went down. He Called the Worm, then cursed it. He has it all here: the actual curse he wrote for the occasion. Well, now we know what to do: no more sailing all over; just go to the spot nearest the last wreck, Call the Worm, and curse it back into the hole it was in before. Simple." His eyes were grave as he contemplated the enormity of the task. "Cuthbert must have been some wizard: I wish I'd been there to see him do it. That would have been spectacular. Remus, old friend, do you think you could bring us up to speed on monster-class curses?"

It was Andie who answered. "You seem so sure about this, but I'm not sure at all. It doesn't seem fair, cursing an animal--does it have to be a curse? I don't think I can do that. There must be some humane way to handle it, even if it is a dangerous creature."

Remus spoke carefully, with great gentleness: "Of course you're right: we don't know for certain what it is, and we won't hurt any creature if we don't have to. But I'm afraid the evidence is pointing to its being a Dark creature, love--this book just adds to what I've been thinking all along. Cuthbert, from all accounts, was a defender of Nature; there are all sorts of tales of his dealings with crows, eagles, those otters. He must have been up against something extra nasty to have resorted to this. Whatever it is, out by the islands, we have to deal with it. We have to find it first, and then we can decide what to do. I hope you're right; cursing anything isn't pleasant."

Turning to Sirius, he said, "The thing to remember about any curse is to put your anger behind it. The words are important, but they won't work if you just read them off the page. I've done it--more times than I care to think about--but as I said, it's not pleasant. There's no way you can actually practice for it; the best you can do is learn the words and hope you get furious enough when the time comes. I'd be grateful if you'd both learn the words to Cuthbert's curse: it looks like a good one." He yawned. "Let's go to bed now; we can look at all this again tomorrow."

Sirius stood up, yawning also, handing Cuthbert's book to Remus and marking the page with the Curse. "Don't worry too much about Andie," he said with amusement. "She does feel a great deal of affection for animals--you'll notice she likes us--but once she gets over being humane, she can be deadlier than you and me put together. Did I ever tell you about the time she turned my room and all my things into a dungheap? A sweet little pigtailed lass of nine, she was. Just let her get annoyed with you, pal, and it's all over. She'll do just fine." He blew his sister a kiss and transformed into Padfoot before she work out whether she'd been complimented, and before she could think of a suitable reply.

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The storm over the islands had abated slightly by early the next morning: it was possible for Alice to walk down to the Longstone shore without bracing against the wind. She whistled up her little boat and pushed off to the northward. The seas were still high and angry, but the little boat made easy work of it. The sun even became visible, through the ragged clouds--Alice and her boat made a shadow on the surface of the sea.

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Someone was banging on the door of the Hut: an insistent, loud thumping. Grumbling to himself, mentally accusing the rest of the Pack of feigning sleep, Padfoot sat up. Sliding quietly off the bed, he padded to the door and pushed it open with his nose. There on the doorstep was a little boat, dripping and quivering. Sirius transformed, dressed, grabbed his wand, hurried back to the boat and stepped into it. Man and boat Disapparated.

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Needles.... If there were such things as eight-foot needles, its teeth would be needles. Alice peered out from her refuge in the rocks, watching as the Thing gnashed those teeth against them, trying to get at her. She was standing shoulder-deep in the water, surrounded by gigantic columns of black stone. Hard, very hard, volcanic stone from the dawn of the Earth's existence. She kept her mind focussed on thoughts of the stone's hardness, on her own safety as she stayed among these rocks. To think of anything else would involve those teeth, the stench of decay surrounding the monster, that unspeakable face with the horrible empty eye sockets as deep as she was tall. It was silent; the only sounds were the clash of teeth on stone, and the thrashing of its huge body in the water. There was no vocalisation, no hiss of breath. She wondered, almost dispassionately, whether it could smell her: didn't smelling involve breathing?

There was something wrong with her arm and shoulder on the left side: she'd been tossed out of her boat and had fallen against one of these rocks, it must have been an hour or more ago. It had been numb, but now was beginning to hurt; she couldn't move her arm at all. She didn't see her boat anywhere; perhaps it had been smashed. Illogically, this thought infuriated her: how was she supposed to escape if this Thing had smashed her boat? She yelled abuse at the Worm--some choice words that came back to her from her childhood: she'd been the daughter of a dockworker.

The Worm was stung by Alice's anger--this was not edible: it was an irritant. The Worm renewed its efforts to gnaw through the rock columns and kill this thing.

Alice watched as the Worm's teeth broke against the rocks, and hundreds of deadly new ones sprouted to take the place of the broken ones.

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Sirius and the boat appeared in the water without a splash, and the boat set off purposefully among the islands. Sirius looked around him, trying to place where he was. He didn't know the names of all these bits of rock, but he knew that he was somewhere to the northeast of Alice's home.

He smelled the Worm before he saw it: faintly at first, like a warning of things to come. The faintest hint of wrongness, decay, death, evil. It smelled like a dementor. He remembered the seals' reports: 'if we make our minds quiet, it can't see us.' Right, it all fit together--it made sense now. Remus had guessed correctly.

The smell grew stronger as he sailed around the point of the little island: sickening, overpowering, nearly intolerable. He fought against the urge to vomit: steeled his mind against the unwillingly remembered feeling of despair, telling himself: "I am not in prison; this is different--I can fight now." The habits of twelve years, developed for survival, kicked in: he made his mind quiet, invisible.

Sirius was better prepared for the sight of the monster than most humans could have been. He was not, however, prepared for the sight of Old Alice yelling furious insults at it from what seemed a pitifully vulnerable position among the shore rocks. He stared, dumbfounded, for a long moment. Then, keeping his mind quiet, he grinned and directed the little boat on a circuitous path between and around the rocks to Alice.

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Andie and the Wolf awoke some time later, transformed (Remus), dressed, made tea, checked the clock for information of Sirius's whereabouts: "Sailing." Gone to order Alice to stay ashore, no doubt, and set of with her when she refused to listen. They made jokes about the perverse pleasure Alice and Sirius gleaned from each other's company. They decided to go for a walk, then come back and learn Cuthbert's curse.

The Wolf, inside Remus, sniffed the air uncertainly.

The day was windy, cool, the clouds shifting in huge, rolling mountains. Remus, absorbed with the beguiling way that the wind had of tossing Andie's hair into her eyes, tripped over a stone in his path. Andie exclaimed and reached out a hand to steady him. He took her hand and they walked on, smiling, quietly mindful that they were now holding hands.

Their walk took them for several miles over the hills, through patches of forest and back home along the burn. Sirius still had not returned. They checked the clock again: "Island." They nodded, satisfied; he wouldn't be long now.

Andie shook her head over the unforgiving, punitive nature of the curse, but learned the words anyway. Saying them over to herself, she got up and helped Remus make sandwiches for lunch. They shared a bottle of beer and waited for Sirius.

"He won't be long, surely," murmured Andie. She glanced uneasily at the clock, then at Remus.

Remus shook his head and pulled at the label on the empty bottle, old memories bringing a smile to his lips. "No, you needn't worry on that score: Sirius will be here. Do you know, after we all left school and went our separate ways, no matter where he was or what he was doing, I could depend on seeing Sirius on my doorstep the evening of each full moon. He never missed a moon, not one, until they put him in prison. I've wondered sometimes if he wasn't removed from Aurors' training because someone there thought he was a werewolf himself, disappearing every month as he did. Obviously, it wasn't Moody who thought so, because he took Sirius on personally after that.

"Every now and then James came with him; they almost made it a festive occasion. I didn't ask, would never have asked him to come. He just came, usually full of jokes and damn-fool silliness about being on the road with his Quidditch team, or later about his trainers, or the Ministry, or whatever was going on. He'd park his bike behind the Hut, run with me all night, usually be gone before I came to the next morning. But I'd always wake up in bed, warm, with hot food and tea waiting nearby. I have these sort of hazy, half-memories of him sometimes carrying me into the Hut, in early dawn. I asked him, once, why he came. He said, 'Because I choose to, so shut up.'"

Remus looked up to face Andie, regret and self-reproach in his eyes. "I had better cause than anyone to know about Sirius Black's loyalty--and still, along with the rest of the world, I believed him to be a traitor. There's no excuse..."

A sharp click from one of the hands on their clock made them jump--that would be Sirius, home now. They went to the door to watch for him, coming up the path. Puzzled when he didn't appear, Andie walked over to the mantel for a look at the clock. She stopped dead in her tracks, and turned to Remus with alarm: the hand labelled "Sirius" pointed straight up. "Deadly Peril."

The Wolf, sensing fear, whined gently and scratched at the door of Remus's mind.

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Sirius found that the rocks offered more protection than he'd first thought they could. The columns were so tall and wide, and so close together, that the Worm's head would not fit between them; they would be safe here for a while. He had sailed to within ten feet of Alice before she noticed him. As he expected, she showed none of the surprise he knew she was feeling: "Only the one of you? I suppose you think you can handle this thing by yourself...Hmph."

Sirius grinned at her: "Your boat wasn't very specific; it just showed up on my doorstep and told me to get in. I thought none of us, including you, would be going out today, because of the storm. Trust you to go out on your own and stir up a monster!" He lowered his voice then, and spoke more urgently: "Alice, remember what the seals told Andie, about keeping your mind quiet? They were right: this thing is a bit like a dementor. It hears emotions; it knows when we're agitated or upset. That may be why it spins ships around before it swallows them: it wants that fear. So giving it a piece of your mind, as you were doing," he smiled, "May be just what it wants. Try not to feel anything at all. Between the two of us, we should be able to make it out of here. And we should do it soon; I have an appointment tonight. Let me help you into the boat."

"No need, laddie; this boat knows me," she whispered. She touched the side of the boat and was instantly inside it, with hardly a splash. Sirius gently turned the boat around and slowly crept back the way he had come, staying among the protecting rocks.

They made it, for nearly forty yards.

The Worm was baffled. A full day and night of hunting had turned up only this one small boat. It had heard human fear, then anger; it knew it had capsized the boat, and the human had taken refuge among the infuriating rocks. Suddenly, there was nothing. Had the human found a way to get to land? It held its horrible head still, listening. Nothing: had the human drowned? They did, sometimes.

Thrashing its great body in frustration, the Worm flung itself through the rocks, churning up gigantic waves, bashing against the black columns. Its coils reached up higher than the highest pillars as it swung itself seaward. The end of its tail made a swift, immensely powerful sweep, blindly hitting the little boat broadside. Suddenly, there it was again: the encouraging sound of Fear. The Worm reversed its direction and waved its head back and forth, hunting once more.

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"Deadly Peril." Remus stood in dismay, staring at the clock, trying to think, to make his mind move beyond the word "No!" Sirius had to be at Alice's: the first reading had said "Sailing" and the second one had said "Island." He felt Andie's hand on his arm and turned to her, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Never mind, love; we'll find him," he assured her, and hoped it was true. Without further words, they ran down the path and Disapparated, heading for Longstone. The afternoon shadows lengthened.

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The sound of Fear had come from Alice; Sirius appeared to be unconscious. She'd seen Sirius thrown out of the boat; heard the sickening crack as he hit the side of a slanting stone column and slid down into the water. She touched the boat and it righted itself. With her good arm, she pulled Sirius's head free of the water. She told the boat to take them both in. This spot was more open than seemed safe; she guided it back amongst the rocks.

She hid her thoughts once more: the Worm had started that awful silent swaying. It had heard her when the boat went over; she would have to be more careful. She looked down at Sirius, lying in the bottom of the boat, moving slightly, his eyes open but unfocussed. She couldn't tell how badly he was hurt, or if any bones were broken. There was rather a lot of blood oozing through his hair, a sizeable bruise forming on the side of his head. Concussion, possibly. She spoke his name; received an incoherent answer. She smiled grimly: who was supposed to be the rescuer here?

But they were in a fix, now, and no mistake. The pain in her shoulder had grown to the point that it was taking up nearly all her attention: she was finding it impossible to think, to come up with a plan. Nearly a full day up to the neck in the North Sea had left her aching, chilled to the bone, unable to move very fast or with much purpose. It occurred to her that, possibly, she was old. As quietly as she could, she guided the little boat into a deep, narrow cleft in the rocks, then closed her eyes wearily.

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The lighthouse was empty. The boat was gone. Andie and Remus stood on Longstone's rocky shore and stared at each other helplessly. "There's nothing to show where they've gone," Andie said, looking out to sea. "Maybe you should transform, and see if you can catch a scent. I know it's not very likely, but we can't do anything else. We'll walk the perimeter of the island and see if you can pick up anything on the wind. They have to be near here somewhere."

And so the Wolf was freed. He could hear Remus in his mind, asking--begging--for news of Sirius--of Padfoot. Yes, he wanted Padfoot too. The Wolf ran along the shore, sniffing the air, the rock, casting back and forth, looking. Andie followed, the smell of fear evident from her. His Pack, in distress. The Wolf waited for Andie, jumped up and licked her on the cheek, then dashed on down the shore. Longstone was one of the larger islands, but it was quick work to walk all the way round it. There was nothing--no indication that Padfoot had ever been here. The Wolf paced up and down the last bit of shoreline, whining in his agitation. He had no words to express the uneasiness, the worry, the need to find, comfort, protect his own. His Pack. The wolf looked out to sea and howled. Again and again.

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Sirius awoke in darkness, his head pounding, freezing cold, with the stench of death and decay in his nostrils. The smell of prison, of dementors. He'd obviously been dreaming again, such a vivid one this time: dreaming he was free, dreaming he was with people who trusted him--who loved him. From long habit, after the first desolate waking breath, he fought against the crushing despair: best to transform. To be Padfoot for a while, to get through the agony and disappointment of waking up.

He transformed, and as he did so, a whole galaxy of other smells, under the horrible one, came into his consciousness. Seaweed. Bird droppings. Fresh air. Blood--his own. Salt water. The boat. Alice! With an enormous rush of joy and relief, he remembered where he was. Elated, grateful, he welcomed monsters, pain, numbing cold--he was free. Then, realising that he was deliriously happy to be soaking wet, freezing in a ridiculously tiny boat, with a broken head, a seriously injured old lady, and a horrific monster weaving to and fro right over them, he laughed.

Then he cocked his head to one side, listening intently: Yes, that sound was welcome too: Moony's voice! He sat back on his haunches and howled with all the fierce delight in his soul: "We're here!" The howling made his head hurt. He did it again.

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Andie's eyes closed in relief as she heard the answering howls coming over the water. Whatever deadly peril threatened him, he was still alive and able to transform, able to howl. She rested her hand on the Wolf's neck. "Can you tell exactly where he is? Can we get there?"

In an instant, he was Remus again: "Yes, I know exactly where. We can Apparate and be right beside him." He paused for a moment, and added, "He sounds a lot happier than I was afraid he would."

As it happened, they arrived right beside and twenty feet above Sirius, standing on the cliff edge. The Worm was horribly near, horribly silent: a black shape, or series of shapes, gigantic in the water below them, writhing slowly around the rocks, its huge, repulsive head weaving back and forth at eye level with themselves, hunting. They stared at the thing in disbelief, unable to move or speak for a moment. Then Andie took a deep breath and called softly, "Sirius? Padfoot?"

An answering bark, followed almost immediately by Sirius's voice, broke the spell of horror that the sight of the Worm had created. He sounded--incredibly--quite normal and happy. "Brilliant! You found us! We're down here, in the boat. Alice is in fairly bad shape, some broken bones probably, and I have the devil's own headache, but we're alive and out of its reach. I don't think that thing can hear actual sounds, only emotions, as the seals told us. Can you get us up to where you are? There's nowhere for you to stand down here; it's all vertical."

Remus took out his wand and looked over the cliff edge. He Lifted the boat to the top of the cliff, set them down gently and reached a hand to Sirius, who climbed unsteadily out of the boat. Alice, her eyes still closed, murmured, "I'll just stay here, if you don't mind." Andie Conjured a thick quilt to wrap around her, received a whispered "Thank you, Flower," and turned her attention to her Pack.

Andie and Remus looked anxiously at Sirius, who could not stop grinning. They glanced at each other, the silent message "Head injury" in their eyes, but he laughed at them and said, "Believe me, there are worse places to be than here. I'm not off my head, not yet. Let's decide what to do with this thing. I hope you two practiced Cuthbert's curse while I was out sailing today."

Andie answered: "Yes we did, and now I'm glad: Remus, you were too patient with me; I didn't believe there were creatures like this in the world. I didn't understand. A thing like this--it's not an animal, is it." She turned away from the swaying Worm with loathing.

The Worm heard something. Not fear, exactly--not terror--but perhaps that would change if he moved toward the sound. He turned his head to the little group on the clifftop, snaking forward. Sirius saw the movement first. Snatching out his wand, without thinking, he roared at the top of his voice, "Expecto Patronum!" Shouting instantly sent hammering pains through his head, but in his heightened state of elation at being free, he accepted this as proof that he was alive. He laughed aloud, and watched as his Patronus appeared.

The silvery cloud shooting from Sirius's wand hovered in the air and formed a vertical shape, taller than any of them. It solidified into the form of a powerfully built young man, with short blond hair, wearing sandals, and robes belted in the middle. He pointed his walking staff at the Worm and began to speak, in a grim, implacable, thunderous voice. Slowly, familiar words in a cadenced, rhythmic speech unfolded. The Curse. Andie and Remus stared at one another, realisation dawning in their faces.

Then, eyes glittering with fury, Andie pointed her wand stiffly at the Worm and began repeating the words in rhythm with the Patronus. Remus watched her for a moment in amazement and admiration, then took out his wand and focussed his own anger on the Worm, repeating the words of power in Cuthbert's curse along with the others. With each additional voice the Curse became louder and again louder, deafening, ten times louder, echoing off the rock walls and carrying for miles out to sea. Sirius swayed slightly and sank to his knees, holding his head, groaning and laughing.

The Worm recoiled. There was an advancing wall of carefully directed, implacable rage in front of him: he couldn't escape its relentless phrases. Huge waves crashed over the rocks, drenching them as he retreated, backing away from those intolerable words. He felt himself drawn down and outwards, into the deepest hole in the sea; felt nothing more as his awareness faded. He didn't know when the Words pinned him to the bottom of the sea bed.

Andie, Remus and the Patronus remained motionless as the dreadful shape sank into the sea. They kept their wands and staff trained on the spot where the Worm had disappeared, willing it deeper than any living creature ever had gone. At last, when every wave in the sea looked like every other wave, they lowered their wands and turned to each other.

The Patronus smiled and nodded appreciatively to Andie and Remus as one professional to another. He then turned to Sirius, raised him to his feet and placed a hand on the side of his head, over the damaged place. The pain vanished. He knelt beside Alice, lying in the boat, and laid his hands gently on her injured shoulder. Then, giving a comradely wave to all, he dissolved into the mist. The Pack watched the place where he had been for a long moment. They stood silent, holding each other close.

Eventually, Andie cleared her throat, gazed up at her brother and spoke: "All right, would you mind telling us what was so funny?"

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It was Sirius who guided the little boat home to the lighthouse. Everyone sat silent, content, watching the waves break over the rocks as they passed. The clouds parted momentarily, showing the moon, round and full. Remus gazed up at it, suddenly struck by a thought. "Do you know, I completely forgot about it for a while, this evening. It's ruled my life for all these years, but now...." He stared out to sea, wondering, considering the possibilities. Nobody answered him, but they wondered and considered along with him, sharing his thoughts. Fervently sharing his hopes.

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Alice's lighthouse was, after all, a rescue station, and Alice herself seemed revitalised after her encounter with the Patronus. She ushered the Pack inside and took charge instantly, opening various cupboards and trunks, hauling out blankets, hot food and whisky. Even Sirius proved unexpectedly docile, allowing himself to be ordered about, shown into the showers, given dry clothing and whisky with honey and hot water. He swirled the liquid around in the cup and listened to Alice praising their skill at monster hunting.

"I have to say, I wasn't sure what would come of this job when Dumbledore told me to write to you," Alice declared. "A werewolf, an animal healer, and a half-mad escaped convict." She grinned at Sirius, who grinned back and made a mildly rude gesture. "But I needn't have worried. You young people are every bit as good as he said you'd be," she said. "You remind me of myself in my prime, back when I was working with... a different Pack." She stood up slowly, smiling more at her memories than at the Pack. "I'm going up to bed, but you three can stay up as long as you like. You should stay here tonight, save your strength, and go back home tomorrow. Make yourselves comfortable down here, or go up into the bedrooms on the first floor. Good night, dears."

They spent what was left of the night just where she'd left them: in the lighthouse sitting room, sharing impressions, falling asleep in two of Alice's huge armchairs. Andie contentedly curled herself into the chair with Remus and drifted off to sleep with her arms round him, her head resting on his shoulder. Remus gazed down at her in bewilderment, as if wondering how she came to be there.

Sirius, sleepily observing this not-so-subtle shift in Pack dynamics, chuckled to himself. Remus looked up quizzically at his old friend and gave him a slow, hesitant smile. "Kun? (is this right?)" he asked, quoting a suddenly remembered line from a story, shared long ago, when they were children..

Sirius smiled back fondly, approvingly, at both the memory and Remus. "Payah Kun (That is quite right)." He leaned back and stretched slowly, luxuriously: long arms over his head, long legs toward the fire, making himself even longer, catlike. He closed his eyes, and thought drowsily to himself that they should think about adding a couple more rooms into the Hut's interior.

The End, for now.