by R. L. Stine
And over the whisper of the wings, I heard another sound.
A dog bark?
Was I imagining it?
I listened hard. And heard it again. Yes!
I turned and saw the happy expression on Marissa’s face. She heard it, too. “It’s Silverdog!” she cried. “He’s calling us!”
“Let’s go!” I exclaimed.
I heard another long series of barks. The dog was definitely calling us.
We spun around and ran toward the sound.
Ran back into the trees. Ran through the tall bushes. Leaped over fallen logs. Ran to the barking.
Ran.
Ran full speed.
Until the ground suddenly gave way.
A hole opened up beneath us.
And we started to fall.
“Nooooooo!” I let out a long, terrified wail. “It’s The Pit With No Bottom!”
I landed hard on my elbows and knees.
“Ooof!” I let out a groan as my face hit wet dirt.
A bottom.
A very hard bottom.
I glanced over at Marissa. She was already climbing to her feet. She brushed dirt and dead leaves off the knees of her jeans.
“What did you yell?” she asked. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Uh … nothing,” I mumbled. “Just yelled.”
I glanced up. Marissa and I had tumbled down a short, steep hill. We’d fallen maybe three or four feet.
Not exactly a bottomless pit.
I brushed myself off, hoping Marissa couldn’t see how embarrassed I felt.
When we climbed back to the top, Silverdog was waiting for us. The dog raised his head and stared at us with his brown and blue eyes — as if to say, “What is your problem? Why can’t you two jerks keep up with me?”
As soon as we joined him at the top of the hill, the big dog turned and loped off, wagging his furry white tail. Every few steps, he glanced back to make sure we were following.
I still felt kind of shaky from the fall. Even though it was such a short drop, I had banged my knees pretty hard. They still ached. My heart still raced.
Dad and his crazy stories, I thought, shaking my head. The Pit With No Bottom … why would I even think such a crazy thought?
Well … what could be crazier than following a big white dog through a Brovanian forest in the middle of the night?
Maybe Marissa and I will have a legend to tell our friends when we’re finished, I thought. “The Legend of the Two Incredibly Stupid Kids.”
Or maybe we’ll find the silver chest containing the Lost Legend — and be rich and famous and make Dad proud.
These were my thoughts as my sister and I followed Silverdog along a curving path through the forest. The dog loped easily between the trees and weeds. And we trotted behind him, eager not to lose him again.
After a few minutes, we stepped into a large patch of tall grass. Marissa and I stopped and watched Silverdog run across the grass, prancing, raising his legs high. He ran to a small cabin on the other side of the grass.
The cabin stood silvery gray under the moonlight. It had one narrow door and one square window under a slanted red roof.
A stone fireplace stood beside the cabin. Some kind of barbecue grill, I guessed. Beside the fireplace, I saw a low pile of firewood, neatly stacked.
I could see no lights on inside the cabin. No sign that anyone lived there.
Silverdog pranced up to the tiny building, pushed in the door with his snout, and disappeared inside.
Marissa and I hesitated at the edge of the clearing. We watched the cabin, waiting for someone to come out. The door remained half-open.
We took a few steps closer. “This is where he wanted to bring us,” Marissa murmured, her eyes on the cabin door. “Silverdog sure seemed happy to get home. Did you see the way he strutted? Do you think the person who wants to help us is inside?”
“Only one way to find out,” I replied.
“The cabin looks almost like a fairy-tale cabin,” Marissa said. “Like a cabin in one of Dad’s old stories.” She laughed, a quiet dry laugh. “Maybe it’s made out of cookies and candy.”
“Yeah. Right.” I rolled my eyes.
“Do you remember the story — ?” she started.
“Please — no stories!” I begged. “Come on. Let’s check out the place.”
We stepped up to the cabin. The whole building was only a few feet taller than we were!
“Hello?” I called.
No answer.
“Anyone home?” I called, a little louder.
No answer.
I tried one more time. “Hello? Anyone in there?” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth.
I pushed open the door. Marissa followed me inside.
We found ourselves in a warm kitchen. Light from a candle on a small table flickered over the wall. I saw a crusty loaf of bread on the sink counter. A carving knife beside it.
I saw a big black pot simmering on a wood-burning stove. It sent a sweet, tangy aroma floating through the room.
I didn’t have time to see anything else.
As I took one step into the small kitchen, a figure burst in from a back room.
A very large woman wearing a long, flowing, gray dress.
She had flashing, bright-green eyes. Blond bangs fell across her forehead, and long braids hung down the sides of her round-cheeked face.
She wore a helmet over her head. A cone-shaped helmet with two horns poking up from the sides. Like a Viking from long ago. Or someone in an opera.
Her arms were big, with powerful muscles. She had sparkling rings on every finger. A round, jeweled medallion swung heavily over her chest.
She dove quickly past Marissa and me, her green eyes wild, her mouth twisted in an evil grin.
She slammed the cabin door shut.
Pressed her back against the door.
“I’ve caught you!” she shrieked. And tossed back her head in an ugly cackle of triumph.
Her cruel laugh ended in a cough. Her green eyes sparkled at us, reflecting the candlelight. She stared at us hungrily.
“Let us go!”
Those were the words I wanted to shout.
But when I opened my mouth, only a tiny squeak slipped out.
Marissa moved first. She dove for the door. I forced my rubbery legs into action, and followed close behind.
“Let us out!” I finally managed to scream. “You can’t keep us here!”
The big woman’s smile faded. “Take it easy, kids,” she boomed. She had a loud, deep voice. “I was just kidding.”
Marissa and I both gaped at her. “Excuse me?” I cried.
“Sorry. I have a bad sense of humor,” the woman said. “I guess it comes from living out here in the middle of the forest. I can’t resist a really mean joke.”
I still didn’t understand. “You mean you didn’t lock us in?” I demanded in a trembling voice. “You haven’t captured us?”
She shook her head. The horns on the helmet moved with her head. She suddenly reminded me of a large, gray bull.
“I haven’t captured you. I sent Silverdog so that I could help you.” She pointed toward the stove.
I saw that the big white dog had dropped down beside it. He lowered his head, licking a big front paw. But he kept his eyes on Marissa and me.
My sister and I stayed near the door. This woman was strange. And kind of terrifying.
She was so big and loud. And powerful-looking. And those green eyes flashed and danced wildly beneath the horned helmet.
Is she totally crazy? I wondered.
Did she really bring us here to help us?
“I know everything that happens in this forest,” she said mysteriously. She raised the jeweled medallion close to her face and stared into it. “I have ways of seeing things. Nothing escapes me.”
I glanced at Marissa. Her eyes were wide with fright. Her hand reached for the cabin door.
Back by the stove, Silverdog yawned. He lowered h
is head between his paws.
“What are your names?” the woman boomed. She let the heavy medallion drop back onto her chest. “My name is Ivanna.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Do you know what Ivanna means?”
I cleared my throat. “Uh … no,” I replied.
“I don’t, either!” the woman exclaimed. She tossed back her head in another cackling laugh. The medallion bounced on her chest. Her helmet nearly toppled off her blond hair.
Despite the warmth of the small kitchen, I shivered. We had walked so far through the cold forest. I couldn’t shake off the chill.
“You two look half-frozen,” Ivanna said, studying our faces. “I think I know what you need. Hot soup. Sit down.” She motioned to a small wooden table with two chairs in the corner of the room.
Marissa and I hesitated. I didn’t want to leave the door. I knew we both were still thinking of making a run for it.
“Our dad …” Marissa murmured. “He’ll be looking for us. He might be here — any minute.”
Ivanna stepped over to the stove. “Why didn’t you bring him along?” she asked. She pulled down two bowls from a cabinet.
“We couldn’t wake him up,” I blurted out.
Marissa glared at me.
“A heavy sleeper, huh?” Ivanna had her back to us. She was ladling soup from the black pot into the two bowls.
I leaned close to Marissa. “If we want to escape, now is our chance,” I whispered.
She turned to the door, then swung back. “I’m so cold,” she whispered. “And the soup smells so good.”
“Sit down,” Ivanna ordered in her deep, booming voice.
I led the way to the small wooden table. Marissa and I sat down on the hard chairs.
Ivanna set the steaming bowls in front of us. Her green eyes lit up as she smiled. “Hot chicken noodle soup. It will warm you and get you ready for your test.”
“Huh? Test?” I cried. “What test?”
“Eat. Eat,” Ivanna ordered. “Warm yourselves.” She stepped back to the stove.
I watched her bend to pet Silverdog’s head. Then I raised the soup spoon to my mouth. Blew on it. And swallowed a mouthful.
Delicious.
And it felt so warm and soothing on my dry throat.
I took a few more spoonfuls. Then I glanced across the table. Marissa seemed to be enjoying it, too.
I had raised a spoonful of noodles nearly to my mouth — when Ivanna spun toward us from the sink. Her eyes went wide. Her mouth dropped open.
She pointed at us with a trembling finger. “You — you haven’t eaten any of it — have you?” she demanded.
“Huh?” Marissa and I both gasped.
“Whatever you do, don’t eat it!” Ivanna cried. “I — I just remembered. It’s poison!”
The spoon dropped from my hand and splashed into the bowl. I grabbed my stomach, waiting for the pain to begin.
I glanced over at Marissa — and saw her roll her eyes. “Another joke?” Marissa asked Ivanna.
“Another joke!” Ivanna confessed gleefully. Once again, she roared with laughter.
I swallowed hard. Why didn’t I guess it was another one of the woman’s mean jokes? I hate it when Marissa catches on to things before I do!
“I knew it all along,” I muttered.
Ivanna stepped up to the table, the medallion bouncing as she walked. “The soup isn’t poison. But don’t eat it yet,” she instructed. “I want to read the noodles.”
“Excuse me?” I replied.
She leaned over my bowl, bringing her face so close that the steam misted her cheeks. “Chicken soup noodles foretell your fate,” she whispered mysteriously.
She studied the noodles in my bowl. Then she studied Marissa’s. “Hmmmm. Hmmmm,” she kept repeating. “Yes. Hmmmm hmmmm.”
Finally, she stood up and crossed her powerful arms over her chest. Her cheeks were red from the hot steam off the soup.
“Eat. Eat your soup now,” she instructed. “Before it gets cold.”
“What did you see?” I asked. “In the noodles. What did they tell you?”
Her expression turned solemn. “You must take the test in the morning,” she replied. “I was right. I know why you have come to the forest. I know what you seek.”
She straightened the helmet on her head. “I can help you. I can help you find it. But first you must take the test.”
“Uh … what kind of test?” I asked.
Her eyes flashed. “A survival test,” she replied.
I swallowed hard. “I was afraid of that,” I muttered.
“What if we don’t want to take your survival test?” Marissa demanded.
“Then you will never find the silver chest!” Ivanna declared heatedly.
I gasped. “Wow! You do know what we’re looking for!” I exclaimed.
She nodded. “I know everything in this forest.”
“But — but we need our dad!” Marissa stammered.
Ivanna shook her head. “There is no time. You will take the test in his place. Do not worry. It is not a difficult test. If you stay alive.”
“Huh? If we stay alive? Is that one of your jokes?” I asked weakly.
“No,” Ivanna replied, shaking her head. “No joke. I never joke about the test in the Fantasy Forest.”
I was holding the soup spoon. But I let it fall to the table. “Fantasy Forest? Where’s that? What is it?”
Ivanna opened her mouth to answer. But before she could say a word, the cabin door burst open.
I felt a blast of cold air.
And then a wild creature, covered in black fur, scrabbled into the room on all fours. Snarling, it cast its bulging black eyes around the room.
Then it snapped its jagged teeth — and, with a hoarse growl, leaped to attack me.
I uttered a scream — and tried to dodge out of the way.
My chair fell, and I fell with it.
The chair clattered noisily onto the floorboards. I landed on my side.
I tried to roll away. But the snarling creature sank its teeth into my leg.
“Owwww!” I shrieked.
Over my cry, I heard Ivanna’s booming shouts: “Down, Luka! Get down! Off, Luka! Get off!”
The wild creature gurgled. It let go of my leg. And backed away, breathing hard.
As I scrambled to my feet, I stared at the panting creature. It had a man’s face. Hunched on its hind legs, it looked almost human. Except that it was covered with thick, black fur.
“Get back, Luka!” Ivanna screamed. “Back!”
The creature obediently inched back.
“Don’t be scared of Luka,” Ivanna said, turning to me. “He’s a good boy.”
“What — what is he?” I cried, rubbing my leg.
“I’m not sure,” Ivanna replied, grinning at the furry thing.
Luka hopped up and down, grinning, making grunting sounds.
“He was brought up by wolves,” Ivanna said. “But he’s a good boy. Aren’t you, Luka?”
Luka nodded. His tongue hung out of his open mouth. He panted like a dog.
Ivanna petted his long, shaggy hair.
He broke away from her and charged at me again. He sniffed my sweatshirt and jeans. Then he crawled under the table and sniffed Marissa’s hiking boots.
“Get away, Luka!” Ivanna ordered. “Off! Off!” She turned to me. “He’s a good boy. He’s just nosy. He’ll calm down — once he gets to know you.”
“Gets to know us?” Marissa demanded, watching Luka scurry over to Silverdog by the stove.
“Luka will be a big help to you when you enter the Fantasy Forest,” Ivanna said with a smile.
“He’s coming with us?” I cried.
Ivanna nodded. “He will be your guide. And he will protect you.” Her expression turned solemn. Then she added softly, “You need all the help you can get.”
We finished our soup quickly. Silverdog and Luka watched us from beside the stove.
When we finished, Ivanna led us to a smal
l back room. The room was bare except for two cots.
“You will sleep here,” she said sternly.
“But our dad — ” Marissa started.
Ivanna raised a hand to silence her. “You want to find the silver chest — don’t you? You want to surprise your father and make him proud — don’t you?”
Marissa and I nodded.
“Then you will take the test. If you pass it, I will tell you how to find the chest.”
She dropped a coarse wool blanket onto each cot. “Sleep quickly,” she instructed. “The test begins first thing in the morning.”
* * *
I awoke slowly. Stretched. Turned and reached to push the blanket off me.
No blanket.
Had I kicked it onto the floor?
I blinked several times, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes.
How long had I slept?
Sunlight streamed all around.
Yawning, I sat up. Started to climb off the cot.
But the cot had disappeared, too.
“Hey — !” I cried out when I realized the cabin had also disappeared.
“Where am I?”
I was sitting on the grass, fully dressed. I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the bright morning sunlight. The grass still shimmered wetly from the morning dew.
I stood up. My mouth dry. Feeling stunned.
Nothing but forest all around.
My mind whirled. Ivanna had said the test would begin first thing in the morning.
Had it already begun? Was I in the Fantasy Forest?
Had the test begun before I awoke?
Rubbing my eyes, I turned to Marissa. “Where are we?” I asked, my voice still hoarse from sleep. I cleared my throat. “Do you think — ”
I stopped with a gasp when I realized Marissa wasn’t there.
I was alone.
Alone in the middle of the forest.
“Marissa — ?” I called, feeling the panic tighten my chest. Where was she?
Where was I?
“Marissa — ? Marissa — ?”
“Marissa — ?”
My voice cracked. My throat tightened.
I heard a low growl from the trees. The thud and crackle of heavy animal footsteps.
I turned to the sound. And watched Luka come hopping out of the forest. He stood on his two feet like a man. But he hopped like a rabbit. Scratching the thick fur on one leg, he grinned at me as he came near.