by L. EE
“What are you talking about?”
“Since the governor brought you up on stage at the festival, you get all puffed up every time people congratulate you!” huffed Alden, landing a blow to Andy’s ribs.
“So what! I’m proud of what I did! I saved your life! You should be thankful!” Andy shoved Alden back against the wall. “You’re just jealous!”
“I’m not jealous!” Alden cuffed Andy’s thigh.
“Yes you are! Why else would you be fighting me?”
“What’s it matter? We’re never getting out of here!”
Alden hit Andy’s chest, catching his fist on Methuselah. “Ouch!” he yelped.
Andy rubbed his chest under the pouch.
“What was that?”
“Methuselah.”
Andy stopped scuffling and pulled the hilt out. Immediately the blade extended to its full length, but it did more—it began glowing brightly. Andy could see Alden sitting on the adjacent cot, eyes wide.
“Awesome! I didn’t expect that!” Andy exclaimed, examining the blade more closely.
“Can I see it?” Alden’s tone came out hushed.
“Sure, if you stop hitting me.”
Alden frowned but nodded.
As his friend investigated the blade’s light-generating capabilities, Andy remembered the gold key. “Wait a minute. I wonder…” He pulled the key out and scooted down his cot toward the locked door.
“Can you bring the light closer?”
Andy held the key up to the lock.
“It’s too big,” Alden observed.
“I have a feeling…” Andy pressed the key against the faceplate of the lock and pushed. It gave way and shrank to fit.
Alden’s mouth gaped open.
Andy inserted the key as far as it would go.
“Cross your fingers,” he instructed Alden.
Not familiar with the idiom, Alden looked puzzled and, still holding Methuselah, extended both index fingers and crossed them.
Andy looked over. “Nevermind. It’s just an expression.” He slowly turned the key and…click!
“It worked?” Alden studied his crossed fingers.
Andy smiled as he removed the key from the lock.
“How?” Alden chirped, studying the tool. “Where’d you get it?”
“Like Methuselah, it just appeared to me.”
Alden continued inspecting the key as Andy pondered aloud, “Whoever sent us on this mission knew we’d need it. But how? What’s that even mean?”
Alden handed the key back to Andy who returned it to the pouch.
“No idea, but let’s get out of here,” Alden whispered as he handed Methuselah back, reached for the door handle, and encouraged the protesting hinges to permit them exit.
The common room was gray with dawn’s first light, and its coolness refreshed the boys. They crept over to their backpacks, still leaning against the wall where they had left them. Empty. The contents had been taken along with the fog-removing cap. Alden rubbed his empty stomach.
“We’ll find food as we walk,” Andy whispered.
Alden nodded.
They stepped into the hall and Andy closed the door behind them as quietly as possible. They crept down the corridor. Halfway along, Alden stepped on a loose floorboard. It creaked and Andy shot him a look of alarm.
“Sorry,” he mouthed.
Just fifteen feet from their goal. The front door practically screamed of the freedom it would afford. But someone moved about in the kitchen to their right. Andy peered around the corner. The maid was standing at the stove with her back to them. They darted past the hallway, but lumbering footsteps approaching behind them sent bolts of electricity up both their spines. They shared a glance and Andy pointed toward the front door.
They made a run for it. Andy prayed it was not locked. He turned the handle and out they flew across the front porch, down the steps, and past the peeling white picket fence. Belzy started yelling, “Stop thieves! Stop thieves!”
Andy glanced back. The man stood on the front porch waving his fists at them, his arms now grown abnormally long. The maid had joined him and was also yelling. She turned quickly and nearly hit Belzy’s now beak-shaped nose with a kitchen spatula.
Reassured that Belzy did not pursue, the pair slowed to a walk, but rest was not to be, for Alden pointed upward and yelled, “Look!”
They no longer had the benefit of Mermin’s fog-clearing invention. Through the thick fog they could barely make out the forms of several large black birds circling overhead, and they were getting closer!
Andy and Alden ducked under the branches of some nearby shade trees, hoping to draw their attackers off. They charged back toward the town square and the well, the way they had come, keeping to the cover of the trees as much as possible. Unfortunately, there were not many trees to hide under.
Andy’s heart raced. Those things are gonna attack any minute!
They reached the well only to find a group of men with long arms and beak-shaped noses waiting for them—the group was armed with all manner of weapons.
One look and the boys kept sprinting. But there was no place to hide! Stabbing stitches knifed Andy’s side. Alden clutched his stomach, and Andy knew his friend experienced equal pain. Andy tried to gulp in air but breath would not come fast enough. Just when he felt he could run no farther, the Forest of Giants came into view. No!
The vulture-men closed in. Yes!
Without stopping, Andy charged into the forest. Alden hesitated only a moment.
Chapter Thirteen
King Abaddon
The pursuers gave up the chase as soon as the boys plunged into the forest. But taunts followed: “Ha! You won’t last long in there!” “Our job is done, that’s for sure!”
Andy and Alden stumbled behind a thick tree trunk and collapsed, chests heaving.
“You know why they let us go, don’t you?” Alden panted.
Andy nodded, unable to speak. His stomach tied itself in a knot.
The edges of the forest were light with the morning sun. Even though no fog could penetrate the thick foliage, the dense canopy made it dark and the boys couldn’t see far. As their eyes adjusted, they scanned the area. An eerie stillness blanketed the thick growth. Only a brave chirp or the hum of a flying insect disturbed the solitude. Andy swallowed.
Okay, I’m afraid. I can let it grip me, or…
Andy cleared his throat, held Methuselah up, and motioned for his compatriot to follow.
“Are you sure?” Alden squeaked.
“No, but we can’t go back that way.”
Alden let out a whimper.
The forest smelled musty, like wet towels after they’ve been sitting in a heap for several days (not that Andy would know anything about that). Dry, fallen leaves crunched under their feet as they stumbled through the dense undergrowth.
Something skittered where Andy was about to step and he jumped. He grabbed for Alden. When nothing leapt at him they continued on, slowly, cautiously. Every stray noise sent chilled fingers up and down Andy’s back.
Methuselah’s light only penetrated a short distance. Andy hunched over and kept scanning, desperately wishing he had X-ray vision or at least night vision goggles.
A dangling vine brushed the side of Alden’s head and forced out a yelp.
“Shhh.”
They passed several hulking tree trunks laced together by thick vines that wove a tapestry through the wood. Stumpy ferns that rose to Andy’s waist fought for purchase between bushes that had grown above his head.
At one point they found themselves surrounded by a particularly thick outgrowth that prevented their passage. Andy raised Methuselah. He was about to strike when Alden cautioned, “No! Don’t!” The Cartesian pointed and took hurried steps away from the growth as it began to move.
Andy followed on his heels as a thick, variegated green coil unfolded itself and a diamond-headed snake flicked its tongue at them. The instant its belly reached the floor the bo
ys yipped and took off. They ran around trees, ducked under vines, and hurdled rotted branches. A mammoth fallen tree trunk lying in the path finally brought them up short.
“Hey, I just realized something,” Andy panted.
“What’s that?”
“The plants haven’t tried to attack us. I thought you said people believe they’ll eat you.”
“Yeah, that’s the story. Or a giant’ll grab you.”
“Hello!” Andy yelled. “We’re here! Come and get us!”
“Shhh! Stop that!”
Alden hunched over, ears perked, while Andy held Methuselah up, waiting, daring. Several minutes passed but nothing happened.
Alden’s stomach gave a loud rumble. “Sorry,” he whispered as Andy glanced at him.
“I think the rumors are wrong. This is just a huge forest of mammoth trees. Nothing more.”
“I don’t know…the rumors have to be based on something.”
“No idea, but I think we’re good. Now come on, we need to find food,” declared Andy. “Are any of these plants safe to eat?”
“They don’t look familiar. They’re a lot bigger than anything I’ve ever seen—and more brightly colored, too.”
They stumbled into a huge blackberry bush with leaves the size of Frisbees and berries as big as softballs.
“Wow!” the two breathed in unison.
Andy retracted Methuselah’s blade and tucked the hilt safely in the pouch. He reached up to pick a huge berry.
“I don’t know if the berries are safe to eat.”
“Well, I’m starving!” Andy reached up, tugged a blackberry loose from the branch, and took a bite. It was delicious—juicy and sweet with a hint of tartness. The juices cascaded over his face and down his front. He took another bite and another.
Alden’s stomach gave a loud rumble and he reached up and started wrestling a second berry loose. As Andy took another bite, one of the bush’s tentacles wrapped around Alden’s foot.
“Alden! The bush is alive!”
The words had barely escaped Andy’s mouth when the plant grabbed Andy’s arms and began dragging him. Squirming, kicking, and screaming, the boys fought against their bonds.
After a few yards, the blackberry bush tossed the boys at another thorn-covered plant, which in turn tossed them at a pricker bush. The handoffs continued for what seemed like an eternity. Sometimes they were thrown at a tree or shrub without spikes, but most times the barbs of the vegetation dug deep into their skin. Within minutes, nearly every inch of their bodies was scratched or bleeding.
Just when Andy thought he could stand it no longer, a tree whose leaves looked like poison ivy threw them into a clearing where three giants played cards at a huge wooden picnic table. One giant looked up from his hand of cards and smiled.
“Hey Hank, looks like our breakfast just dropped in.”
“Yeah, Zank, looks like nice tasty morsels. Berry flavored. But there’s not much meat on ’em,” he chuckled with a dumb-sounding laugh. He reached down and scratched his butt through ragged leggings.
“Hey Tank, take our breakfast to Blank to prepare,” ordered Zank. At this, the largest of the giants stood, upsetting his stool. He lumbered over to Andy and Alden and picked them up by the scruff of their necks. The boys grabbed at the tops of their tunics, trying desperately to raise their necks above the strangling fabric as they gasped for breath.
Tank lugged them kicking toward an enormous wood structure, through an open door, and into a large kitchen where a giantess labored over an immense hearth. She wore a white apron over a yellow and green plaid dress. Her white bonnet looked like a large muffin perched atop her round head. The fire was roaring. Blank looked up and frowned. “Breakfast is already set, Tank. I’ll cook ’em up for lunch later. Hang them over there for now.”
Tank dutifully obeyed, suspending Andy and Alden by the backs of their tunics on hooks near an open window before heading back to his card game. The boys continued struggling for air as the fabric cut into their necks. Blank finished her preparations, rang a loud bell, and moved her provisions outside to the picnic table. As soon as Blank disappeared, Andy gasped, “Put…your arms…up…and drop.”
The two landed on the floor with a thud. The pouch around Andy’s neck swung and smacked him in the head as he landed. “Oh,” he moaned, rubbing the point of impact as he drank in great gulps of air.
“That was close,” croaked Alden, gently scratching his arm where the poison ivy had hugged him. Andy started to scratch as well.
They watched several more giants emerge from the cabins—old grandpa giants walking with canes and baby giants sucking on their fingers, teenage giants talking back to the adults and middle age giants looking dumpy and slow. Alden counted 64 in all.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here while they’re eating,” whispered Andy. The door to the kitchen stood directly in line with the gathering. They inched toward freedom.
Alden spied a pot of porridge simmering on the hearth and his stomach gave a loud grumble. “Psst! Andy.” He pointed.
While it was about the worst thing either of them had ever tasted—Wallpaper paste? Andy wondered—it filled their hungry bellies. Several minutes later, Andy peered out the doorway to make sure all the giants were still eating. The coast was clear. They darted out the door and around to the side of the cabin. They waited in nervous anticipation for the sound of giant footsteps in pursuit, but none came.
Even though their bodies ached from the beating they had received by the vegetation, Alden gave Andy a thumbs-up and a big smile. Both boys were bleeding from various wounds and itching from poison ivy. Their necks burned where their tunics had cut into their skin.
“If we don’t pick any fruit, I think we’ll be okay,” Andy whispered as the giants’ carryings-on grew distant.
They crept along in the dim light, but nothing grabbed for them. The thick undergrowth was disorienting. After wandering for quite some time, neither knew which way they were going. To Andy it felt as though they walked in circles.
Their teeth chattered from the unrelenting dampness on bare skin, and they hugged themselves to try and retain even the smallest warmth. Then their stomachs started complaining once more. With the darkness, they couldn’t tell what time it was.
“Now I understand why the legend says anyone who enters the Forest of Giants is never seen or heard from again,” said Alden, taking off a sandal and shaking stones out. “I wish we knew which way to go to get out.”
Andy opened his pouch and pulled out Methuselah. Quick as lightning, the blade extended from the hilt. Andy held it up straight, but the blade instantly tipped to the side. He corrected it, straightening its position, but again it tipped to the side.
“That’s weird,” Alden remarked.
“This sword does all sorts of things regular ones don’t. Maybe it’s trying to point us out of the forest,” Andy hoped. “What have we got to lose? Come on.”
Andy held Methuselah in front of him with both hands, like a water dowser he had seen on a TV documentary. They followed wherever the tip of the sword directed, eventually stumbling upon a clearing with a quaint little cottage. Staying well hidden, they crouched in the undergrowth and peered out to see if anyone came or went. The house had a small, well-maintained garden with abundant tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, peas, vegetables of all varieties.
After waiting several minutes, a hunched old lady came out the back door with a wicker basket over her arm and a pair of shears in her hand. She wore a freshly pressed bright blue apron over a crisp yellow dress. Her gray hair was neatly done up in a bun, and silver-rimmed glasses perched halfway down her nose. She headed to the garden and snipped some tomatoes and beans, putting them into her basket. Then she added a few peas to the mix and pulled a few weeds. But instead of returning to the house, she walked straight toward where the boys hid, stopping just feet in front of them. “You’ll have to do better than that to hide from Anta Emm,” she declared. “Come inside. Let me get you bot
h fixed up and cook you a proper meal. Goodness, you’ll catch cold if you don’t get some proper clothes on.”
Andy and Alden stared at each other. That name sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before? They slowly emerged from the underbrush and looked about nervously, half expecting to be ambushed by some unseen menace. Andy held Methuselah protectively, just in case.
“You can put that sword away, sonny. Won’t be needing it here.” The lady turned and walked back toward the house.
Andy continued to clutch Methuselah and look around suspiciously as they followed.
They walked in the back door of the tiny cottage and were greeted by the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
“I was told to be expecting you,” Anta explained, putting her basket on the kitchen counter.
The cottage seemed unusually spacious inside. It was neatly decorated with keepsakes and family pictures, the walls were freshly painted, and everything smelled clean. After all they had been through, this might have seemed like a welcome retreat, but Andy darted his gaze about, making note of another exit down the hall. Alden seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“Let me get my bandages,” the woman declared, making the pair jump. She disappeared into a room.
Andy rubbed the back of his neck and Alden scratched his shoulders as they waited.
The woman took to cleaning their wounds in silence. She washed every scrape, applied cream to the poison ivy so it stopped itching, and bandaged anything that was bleeding.
When she had finished, Anta announced, “I have chicken and dumplings prepared. I understand that’s your favorite dish, Andy.”
Alden glanced quickly at Andy who gasped, “How?”
Anta chuckled and raised her pointer finger. “But before we eat, you need some clothes.” She rooted around in a closet and found two tunics and clean leggings. She held them up. “These should do.”
She left them to change. The clothes fit perfectly.
They sat down at a table loaded with fresh watermelon, sliced tomatoes, freshly baked biscuits, chicken and dumplings, cinnamon rolls, and more of their favorites. At first Andy and Alden picked at the food, unsure whether they should trust it. But in the end, hunger overcame their hesitation and they wolfed down huge helpings of everything.