by Ephie Risho
7
Danger in the Woods
AMBER AWOKE SOON AFTER THE SUN ROSE to the smell of freshly cooked eggs and bread. Seeing her stagger to her feet, Mr. Thompson called from the kitchen, “A good meal starts the day off right!” He handed her a plate of eggs and fresh-baked bread, which she wolfed down, then he walked her outside.
“I’ve packed some tasty biscuits for lunch.” He handed her a warm, bulging red napkin that smelled delicious, then walked to Buttercup to look over her supplies. “Every adventurer must ensure they have the proper gear.” He patted the golden horse. “You seem well prepared.”
“But I’m not an adventurer,” Amber said.
The old man’s smile looked cryptic. “Oh really? We’ll see about that.”
She shrugged awkwardly and mounted her golden horse with its white flowing mane.
Mr. Thompson handed her the reins. “You’ll be making lots of decisions out there. Your heart can usually give better advice than the person next to you. And if you don’t have the answer to your question, consider changing your question.”
He paused and looked her in the eyes. “One more thing. When you have time to think, never let fear guide your decisions. There are many great motivators—love, honor, respect. But fear isn’t one of them.” With that he patted her horse and waved goodbye as Amber set off on the full-day’s journey to Wakefield.
It was a beautiful spring day. The dirt road to Wakefield passed through rolling hills, with forest getting dense in the distance. The journey would take her past two large mountains, but for now the path felt open and safe.
Hours later, when she was riding along quietly, lost in her thoughts, she suddenly realized something didn’t seem quite right.
She strained but couldn’t hear any birds or even grasshoppers. The entire forest had gone quiet. She slowed Buttercup to a stop and listened carefully. The wind whistled through the leaves of the tall trees, but no other sound could be heard.
Since she didn’t know why the forest was so quiet, she thought, Ok. Then let’s change the question, like Mr. Thompson said. Instead of asking why the forest is so quiet, let’s ask, what kinds of things make forests go quiet?
She considered it. Predators could scare birds to stop chirping. Like a hawk. Perhaps something startled them.
It could be me, of course. Hope it’s not a troll.
She found herself walking the horse more slowly.
Am I really old enough to be out here on my own? A troll . . . what would I do if I saw a troll?
She couldn’t imagine. Even the thought of it made her question whether she should be more prepared—if she should pull out her bow or something.
Why did I think I was ready to do this?
A few minutes passed by as Amber grew more and more nervous. Suddenly a stocky dark creature leaped out of the nearby bushes, yelling wildly and waving a scimitar.
Amber screamed, and Buttercup reared, then took off straight into the woods, galloping at full throttle. She held on tightly as they brushed past trees. Branches slapped and stung her face and body, but she ignored the pain. She lowered her face to protect herself, then felt a large branch slam into her side, knocking the wind out of her and sending her to the ground, gasping for breath.
When she regained her breath, she listened. Buttercup continued to gallop into the woods. Behind her, creatures crashed through the brush toward her. Her heart stuck in her throat, and she glanced around, spying a large log. She leaped to her feet and dove behind it, just as the creatures plunged into her sight.
She’d never seen real goblins before. They were slightly shorter than her—but three times heavier. Their skin was dark green, and their bulging noses were covered with warts. Their yellow teeth were sharp, dirty, and menacing; their tongues lolled about like a dog’s.
Amber ducked down and held her breath as the two goblins ran past. She lay on the ground listening to them whack their way through bushes and branches and snarl like warthogs. As the sound faded off into the distance, she stayed on the ground behind the log, her heart pounding wildly.
After the panic had subsided, her mind raced. Goblins! Just as the townsfolk had said. What am I doing out here alone? Why couldn’t Ryder have waited and traveled with me? He’d have known what to do. The once-friendly woods seemed strange and dangerous.
Her options were bleak. All her supplies were on her horse. Getting to Wakefield on foot would take many days. She stood and breathed deeply. She had her bow and arrows, hunting knife, flint and steel, the enchanted stone from Flurry, and the medallion from her mom around her neck.
She didn’t want to follow the goblins, but she did want to find Buttercup and her food supply. Otherwise, it would be a long, hungry day and a cold, dark night. With a sigh, she stood and straightened the bow on her shoulder.
Following the horse tracks, she walked much slower than normal, ready for something else to pounce out at her any minute. At one point, she thought she heard something crack a branch nearby, so she pulled out her bow and an arrow to reassure herself but eventually slung it back over her shoulder when nothing appeared.
A few hours into her journey, her stomach started to gurgle. She frowned and thought of the food in her saddlebags so far away. She stood and listened for a moment, then made her way to a nearby creek, being careful to look behind her often so she could find the way back to the horse tracks.
By the creek, she looked for a deeper pool and found some fish. She pulled off her bow and peered into the water with an arrow at the ready, then released it into the pool. No fish. She noticed the arrow was about a foot higher up than she had thought it would be and realized the reflection of the water was tricking her.
She pulled out another arrow and stood above the pool again, watching vigilantly. When the next large fish swam into her line of sight, she aimed a foot lower and released. This time the arrow went straight through the fish. She smiled, reached in, and pulled out both arrows.
With her flint and steel, she made a small fire—using only dead wood so there would be less smoke to draw attention—and roasted the fish on a stick. Using her knife, she cut off pieces, licking her lips as she hurriedly ate the fish, then extinguished the fire and left.
She found Buttercup’s trail again and picked up where she’d left off. Occasionally she saw goblin tracks next to the horse tracks and wondered if the goblins had already caught Buttercup.
Do goblins eat horses? Or maybe they want the supplies? Would a goblin keep a horse to ride it?
Amber wasn’t sure what she’d find, and the more she wondered what lay ahead, the more she didn’t want to keep going. But so far, finding Buttercup was the only real action she could think to take, so she kept on. Besides, hadn’t Mr. Thompson just told her to not let fear guide her decisions?
After another hour, the tracks led to a wide pasture. She didn’t want to be exposed out in the open in case the goblins were around, but it didn’t seem like there was much choice. Amber stood at the edge of the clearing and observed her surroundings. Birds were chirping nearby, as if to say, no troubles here.
She took a deep breath, held her bow with a notched arrow, then carefully walked out into the field. She had taken only a few steps when she heard a whistle pierce through the silence. She whirled toward the sound—it had come from the trees, to her right. She couldn’t see anything at first, then noticed a small figure in the trees waving. She glanced around at the rest of the trees, then walked toward the person, keeping her bow and arrow ready.
As she got nearer, a boy only a few inches taller than her dropped out of the tree. He had curly brown hair, sharp blue eyes, and brown-and-green clothing that blended with the forest behind him. A short sword hung from his left side, and a bow and some arrows rested on his back.
He put his fists on his hips. “I’d be careful if I were you. Two goblins went that way, only twenty minutes ago.” He nodded toward the other side of the field.
“Oh!” Amber’s eyes brightened an
d she followed his gaze for a moment. “Did you see my horse?”
The boy raised his eyebrows. “You seem awfully glad to know goblins went that way. I, for one, like to go the opposite way of goblins.” He regarded her curiously. “Why is that?”
She put her hands in her pockets nervously. “The goblins scared off my horse a few hours ago. But I need her. She’s got all my things, and she’s my favorite horse. I don’t know what else to do, so I’m tracking her down.”
“Huh.” The boy tapped the hilt of his sword for a moment. “Well, I’d be awfully careful following those goblins. You know, they have an amazing sense of smell—it’s hard to sneak up on ’em. In fact, they usually do a better job of sneaking up on us!”
Amber looked him over. He appeared to have spent several days in the woods—and his sword looked well worn. “Well, what would you do?”
The boy grinned. “I’d follow it, of course!”
She smiled and put out her hand. “My name’s Amber. What’s your name?”
“Basil.” He took her hand. “Where are you from?”
“I’ve traveled from Seabrook.”
“That’s quite a ways.” Basil gazed into space as if to calculate the exact distance. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
“I’m on a mission,” she said proudly.
Basil cocked his head. “What sort of . . . mission?”
“A flying creature came and burned one of our fields. They think it was a phoenix. I’m going to find a wizard in Wakefield who can give us advice.”
He stood quietly for a moment. “We’ve been having issues in my village as well, over there in Sanford.” He pointed to the east. “A few weeks ago, we started seeing some random goblins—first time in decades. And now, it’s like they’re everywhere. Somebody even said they saw a troll. Something’s changed, and nobody knows what.”
“How far is your village?”
“Pretty close, actually. Only a few miles at this point. You’re quite off track to head to Wakefield. That’s about twenty miles that way.” He pointed to their south.
“I have to find my horse first.”
“Ok. Ok.” Basil folded his arms. “Here’s what I’m thinking. I want to find out what’s going on too, and you definitely would be safer traveling with someone. I want to go with you. Let’s see if we can get your horse back, and then go to my village for some supplies and talk to my parents.”
Amber felt a bit lighter in spirit. Although she’d just met Basil, being with him seemed to instantly make the task easier.
Basil held out his hand. “Is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal.” They shook hands and headed toward the field. Now they just had to figure out how to sneak up on a couple of cranky goblins.
8
New Friends
THE GOBLINS SAT BY A FIRE, smacking their mouths loudly. Buttercup stood tethered to a tree twenty feet away, looking uneasy and ready to bolt. From a closer distance, the goblins’ hideous appearance was more obvious. They had dark green skin full of blemishes and warts, scrawny black hair—matted and running down their backs—and enormous bellies. They wore battered, poor-quality leather armor and sturdy-looking boots. Their sharp teeth tore into the mutton Amber’s mom had prepared so caringly, causing pieces of food and drool to fall onto their bodies.
“That’s my food!” Amber whispered to Basil.
“What did you expect?” he whispered back.
Thankfully, the goblins were making so much noise, and with their mouths full, it was pretty obvious they wouldn’t be smelling or hearing anything. Amber and Basil crouched behind a bush, bows in their hands.
“If they attack, let’s shoot at the same time,” he whispered.
“Ok.” Her eyes darted around nervously.
Basil pointed to their right. “We need to sneak around this way and steal the horse back. Let’s be ready with our arrows.”
Amber stood to draw an arrow, causing a branch to crack under her foot. The nearest goblin snapped its head up and looked straight into her eyes. She instantly felt the evil behind its gaze and knew it intended to kill her. The goblin leaped to its feet, drew a rusted scimitar, and dashed toward them faster than either of them expected.
They let their arrows fly and hit the goblin in the chest—perfect shots! The goblin fell to the ground and yelled, “Raaah!”
It scrambled to its feet and staggered toward them again, waving the curved sword. The second goblin was now right behind it with a knobby club.
Amber and Basil drew arrows again and let them fly.
“Aaaaaaah!” the goblin yelled, raising its scimitar above its head, now with four arrows protruding from its chest.
Amber drew another arrow as Basil dropped his bow and drew his short sword. The blade rang as it left its scabbard.
She let the arrow fly, right before the goblin was on them, and it hit the goblin in the throat. The goblin stumbled to the ground face-first in front of them. Her heart was beating so loudly, she couldn’t hear anything else.
The second goblin came quickly. Before Amber could draw another arrow, Basil attacked it with his sword.
The goblin blocked, and the sound of clanging metal filled the woods. Basil turned and thrust the sword toward the goblin, piercing its chest, a few inches deep.
It let out a yell and swung wildly, off-balance. Amber saw her moment and let loose another arrow. The goblin staggered to the side, and Basil quickly thrust again, finishing it off. The creature slumped to the ground, wide-eyed, and landed facedown in front of Amber.
She stood, shaking and breathing heavily, then stepped back, drew another arrow, and watched the goblins’ bodies carefully. Basil nudged each goblin with his foot, sword at the ready. When neither responded, the young warriors let out a breath of relief.
Amber ran to her horse and hugged its neck. “Are you ok, Buttercup? Did those nasty goblins hurt you?” She examined the horse’s body. All seemed fine, and the remaining supplies were mostly intact.
Basil had an air of bravado in his voice. “I knew we could do it. Simple. Only two goblins after all.” He wiped his blade and sheathed it in the scabbard on his side.
She looked at him incredulously. He’d handled his sword well, but she guessed it had been his first encounter with goblins, just like her. Still, she was happy to have him there. It would have been close to impossible for her to take on goblins on her own—nothing like hunting.
Basil bent over the goblins, looking at something, then said, “It’s getting late.”
As if on cue, a chilly breeze pierced through their clothing. “Let’s ride back to Sanford. If we hurry, we’ll get there before dark.”
She mounted her horse, and then gave a hand to Basil, who climbed up behind her. With a kick of her heels, they were off, galloping at a steady pace.
“What were you looking at—on the goblins?” she called back over her shoulder.
“I wanted to see what they were carrying.”
“Oh? Was there anything interesting?”
“Well, first off, there were three silver pieces and some copper.”
Amber’s eyes lit up as she rode. She hadn’t thought the goblins would have money. Three silver pieces could be very helpful. “And was there something else?”
“Yes, there was a small pendant on a chain with a design on it. I’m going to show it to some folks in town.”
“Sounds like a good idea!” she called back over her shoulder. They would know more soon, she hoped.
They saw the lights of the village as dusk approached. Amber sighed with relief as they entered through the large wooden gate, the forest far behind them.
Basil pointed. “This way.”
Amber had only been to other small towns like hers, along the coast. The street they walked down was wider and smoother than back in Seabrook. A few people looked curiously at them as they passed. They made their way down a few winding streets till they arrived at a small house. She tied Buttercup to a post,
and they walked inside.
A woman’s voice called, “Make sure you take your muddy boots off!”
Basil grinned at Amber and removed his boots after hanging up his cloak. “Hi, Mom! I’ve got someone to introduce you to.”
A brownish-blonde woman with friendly wrinkles around her eyes walked into the main room, holding a towel.
“This is Amber.” Basil patted her on the shoulder. “I met her in the woods. She’s from Seabrook.”
“Well, that’s quite the distance.” Basil’s mother raised her eyebrows. “What brings you out here? Don’t you know there’ve been lots of goblin sightings in these parts?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Amber nodded. “I didn’t expect to come this way. I was heading to Wakefield when goblins attacked. Basil helped me get my horse back.”
“Oh dear. Are you ok?” She looked Amber over, then Basil.
“Yes. We shot the first one five times.” Basil’s eyes lit up, and he gestured grandly. “And I killed the second with my sword.” He patted the hilt of his sword proudly. “Also, I found this.” He pulled the pendant out of a pocket. “There’s an interesting design on it.”
“Oh, Basil. I told you to be careful out there! Everyone is saying the goblins are all over the place! I’m so thankful you found each other.” She had a worried look on her face.
“Of course, Mom.” Basil lifted his head and put his fists on his hips. “It was easy. We did it without a scratch. Here. Take a look.” He held the pendant out to her.
She inspected it. “We should show this to Chandler.”
“Yep. I was thinking the same thing.”
“Well. You must be hungry. It’s very late, and I imagine you haven’t had a good meal all day.”