Horrors! George wanted to kill the beast, not protect it. And £10,000 was twice what Grandfather was paying him.

A sickening thought hit him.

Had George killed the chupacabra, too? If so, he’d been paid by grandfather and the taxidermists. What a scheming, low-down lily-livered swine George Smith was. Travelling the world, seducing young women and killing off wondrous creatures, all on Graeme Baird’s coin.

Eddie wanted to punch George’s nose right there, but there’d be a ruckus and Eddie was likely to find himself shipped off, unable to do anything to help the family or their creature.

He had to warn Gabi. No, it was the middle of the night. He couldn’t go up to her room...

To hang with propriety, the creature was in danger!

Slipping out the door, he tiptoed up the ladder to the attic room, where Gabi slept. Eddie tapped gently on the door, and then opened it. Gabi was sitting in bed, holding her quilt to her shoulders, looking wary.

When Eddie entered, she sighed, letting her covers fall, revealing a white nightdress embroidered with edelweiss. “Oh, it’s you, not George.”

Was she relieved? Perhaps she didn’t like Smith as much as she appeared to.

“I’ve seen the tatzelwurm.” Eddie said frankly.

She grimaced. “I know. You want to hunt her, don’t you?”

A female tatzelwurm? Even better. If only he could find a pair. “No, I want to give her a new home. A place to live where we can keep her safe.”

Gabi’s face grew fierce. “She belongs here. On the Speer. This is her home.”

Eddie sighed. “That telegram that came for George? Someone has offered him £10,000 to kill your tatzelwurm, so they can stuff it and mount it.”

Gabi’s eyes flew wide and her hand shot to her mouth. “George will kill Tatzi? No!”

“Please,” pleaded Eddie, “let me bring her back to Scotland.”

“No!” Gabi whispered fiercely. “I will guard her with my life.”

“You may well have to,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head. “You like George, don’t you?” he blurted.

“Meine Gute! That arrogant swine?! Of course not.” She laughed. “I only showed him the moths to prevent you from telling him about Tatzi.”

“Did he, ah…” Eddie flicked the corner of the rug with his toe. “Did he kiss you?”

“He tried, but I wouldn’t let him.” Her face broke out in a triumphant smile, and Eddie sighed in relief.

***

It was all hands on deck at the chilbi. The locals swilled beer and ate sausages and thick slabs of bread spread with melted cheese. Eddie slaved over the hot flame, turning the huge cheese rounds and scraping the gooey smelly cheese onto bread slabs. After a lot of good-natured ribbing from the locals, he was assigned to the beer barrel instead, pouring endless glasses of ale.

A man brought out an accordion, playing folk tunes. During the choruses, the locals broke into yodelling that had Eddie grinning. During a lively number, he found his foot tapping.

“Franz!” A burly red-faced farmer bellowed, striding through the meadow towards the festivities.

“You’re late, Emil,” Franz replied. “Come and have a beer.”

“Found my prize calf with its belly ripped out!” Emil glared, the veins standing out in his forehead. “Belly ripped open and eaten.”

The accordion stopped. The laugher died. Everyone froze, staring at Franz and Emil.

Emil puffed out his cheeks. “Who’s going to pay for my prize stock?” His eyes lit on Gabi. “That fine daughter of yours might be enough to offset the cost of my calf. You don’t own much else of worth.”

Eddie’s fists balled.

Gabi paled. “I’m sure it was a wolf,” she said, eyes shooting meaningfully to George. “We lost two calves last month to wolves.”

“Wolf!” The farmer spat a stream of tobacco on the grass and lurched over to Gabi. “Then maybe I’ll have to do some hunting.” His eyes roved over her bodice.

Eddie wanted to punch him.

There was an awkward silence. A few men guffawed uneasily.

“Saw a wolf yesterday,” Eddie piped up in German. “Over there, on my walk along the ridge. A grey one.”

Gabi clutched the skirts of her tract—her traditional Swiss dress—knuckles white.

Franz came over. “Have a beer, Emil. It must have been a shock seeing your calf like that. Tomorrow we’ll help you hunt wolves.”

Emil’s eyes darted around the crowd. He slumped heavily on a chair. “Give me a beer, then. Later, we’ll hunt.” His eyes darted to Gabi and he leered.

Eddie poured him a beer, wishing he could throw it in his face. Then he was swept off his feet as more men called out for drinks. Eddie’s gut churned, not helped by the rich stench of melting cheese. Just imagining George or Emil with their paws on Gabi made his heart pound.

He pulled beer after beer, until it was dusk and the barrel was empty. He strode behind the barn to roll a fresh barrel out. What was that? Rolled in a bundle, tucked behind the barrel, was Gabi’s tracht.

She must’ve gone up the alp to warn her Tatzi.

Eddie gazed up at the pasture. Hold on, who was following her?

George was racing up the trail to the top meadow.

With no time to lose, Eddie ran after George. By the time he got across the top meadow, George was already edging his way along the goat track around the alp. As he disappeared from view, Eddie spurted forward. He had to stop George from killing the creature. But how?

***

Clutching the mountain face with his hands, Eddie scrambled along the goat track. His feet dislodged stones and sent them skittering down the mountainside. He gulped and pressed on, sweat-clad hands slippery on the rock, stones digging into his palms.

There was a scream.

Gabi, no! What was—

He rounded the corner.

George was gripping Gabi’s hair, forcing her head backwards. With his other hand, he ripped her blouse free from her shoulder. “You bloody tease,” he bellowed. “I’ll have you.”

Eddie scrambled across the rocks.

Gabi spat in George’s face.

He backhanded her, making her head snap back. She groaned and stumbled. He dragged her up, pulling her body against his. “You’re ready now, aren’t you? Nothing like slapping some sense into a girl.”

So George’s charm was only a means to an end.

Eddie hefted a rock. “Freeze, George!” he bellowed.

George didn’t even turn. “Decided to grow some balls now, have you, boy? Well let me show you how you use them.” He fumbled with his trousers.

Eddie threw the rock.

And missed.

A roar split the sky. A dark shape dived off the mountainside. George spun, shoving Gabi.

She fell backwards, landing near the fissure of churning snow melt, and rolled away from the edge.

“Duck, Eddie!” she cried.

Eddie hit the ground.

The tatzelwurm flew over him and straight at George, claws out. It belched a cloud of black gas over his face.

George screamed in agony. His skin blistered and rippled. One of his eyes slid down his cheek and his chin dripped molten flesh onto his shirt. He stumbled back. Arms windmilling, he teetered at the edge of the fissure, and then fell into the deep crevasse.

Eddie rushed over. There was a flash of George’s arm and then a churning mass of roaring white water.

Gabi crawled towards Eddie, the tatzelwurm’s tail around her arm and its head nestled against her neck. “He’s gone,” she said, voice flat. “Dead. The churn goes deep underground. No one will ever find him.”

God, George’s face. Eddie leaned over the edge and vomited his cheese and beer into the water below.

Shakily, Eddie got to his feet and held out a hand. “You all right?” he asked, keeping his voice soothing, his movements unhurried. Who knew if after killing a calf and George, the wurm would want him as a chaser?

Gabi’s Tatzi settled in her lap, hissing at Eddie. Gabi stroked her sleek scales, crooning. “It’s all right, Tatzi, alles esch guet.” Gradually the creature calmed and nestled against her belly.

Bellows came from the upper pasture.

Gabi stiffened. “Oh, no, they’re coming. It’s Emil on his dragon hunt. Quick, come with me. You’ll have to climb.” She scooped the tatzelwurm up and threw it into the air. Its wings unfurled and it flew up the rock.

Gabi held out the rope. “Quick! Place your hands and feet where I do.”

Eddie climbed behind her, not daring to look down. Barking his shins and scraping his hands on sharp rocks, he made his way to the top of the alp. The tatzelwurm landed on Gabi’s shoulder.

“Give me your hand,” Gabi said.

Eddie placed his hand in Gabi’s. Tatzi slithered down her arm, climbing up Eddie’s.

Why, the odd slithering motion tickled. Tatzi wrapped her tail around his bicep. Eddie froze, remembering how George’s face had melted. But the tatzelwurm only sniffed his face, then leapt back onto Gabi’s shoulder.

Eddie stared at it. Those gleaming dark scales, the huge cat-like eyes, and tufted ears…what a wondrous creature.

“Look,” Gabi pointed down though the dusk at a procession of torches making its way across the meadow and around the alp.

In the dark, a wolf howled, making the hairs on Eddie’s neck rise. “It was a wolf that killed that calf, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. “But they’ll never believe me. They’re out for Tatzi’s blood. If we’re quick, we’ll elude them. I know a short cut down.”

“Down?”

“Yes, right past Tatzi’s mate’s cave, so we can collect him too,” she said.

Two tatzelwurms?! Eddie grinned. It was more than he’d ever dared hope.

Gabi continued, “We’ll come out behind Emil’s hunting party and sneak back to the house for your things.” She smiled. “I’ve always wanted to go to Scotland.”

“Grand idea,” Eddie said.

He took Gabi by the hand and they ran along the ridge, towards the low end of the wedge-shaped Speer, the glorious tatzelwurm flying beside them.