Secret of Gloomwood Forest

by Keira Gillett

  “What’s a Stag Lord?” asked Filip. “I heard the trolls call you that at the palace.”

  “It means, I’m heir to the throne,” said Hector. He shrugged. “Once I’m king I won’t have the freedom to explore the realms. My duties will keep my movements considerably constricted. Boy,” he continued, addressing Aleks. “If you must know I am damn good at trading. Trolls might be known for their trickery, but I am at my best when bargaining. I was already loosed before they realized that the trade I made with them was chicanery at its finest.”

  Aleks nodded. “What did you trade them for?”

  “A secret way in and out of Queen Helena’s realm without her shoes in exchange for my freedom, my beast’s, and yours.”

  Geirr shook his head in disgust. “I still can’t believe all this mess was because of some lady’s footwear.”

  Hector smiled and turned back to his belongings. He rummaged for a moment before pulling out silver tinfoil packages. He handed them to the children. “They’re MRE’s. Meals-ready-to-eat,” he explained. “Don’t get me wrong they’re nasty, but you humans certainly know how to provide sustenance in a pinch. We’ll eat, rest, and make our way topside.”

  ***

  “Is Queen Helena your mother?” asked Zaria late afternoon.

  She was ridiculously tired. Looking at the boys, she could see they felt the same, but each was determined to trudge up the sloping cave floor and reach the top. They were near Álfheim according to Hector and would emerge in its protected glades when they broke the surface.

  “No,” Hector replied. “She’s a sorceress. She rules the Under Realm which stretches beyond the Gjöll River. The elves have aligned with her for generations. They guard the Gjöll and the Gjallarbrú – the bridge that spans this realm and connects to hers.”

  “It sounds like the River Styx in Greek mythology,” Zaria said. “How fascinating!” And she was fascinated. This whole adventure was like watching a book come alive. What else was real?

  “Why do the trolls need her shoes?” Geirr interrupted. He’d been listening quietly, focusing on the climb, but he was curious.

  Hector guided Norwick gently by the snout. He looked at Geirr and said with solemnity, “You can’t cross into her realm without a pair of her shoes.”

  The answer didn’t satisfy Geirr, or Zaria for that matter. “Then why do the elves help guard her realm, if nobody can cross without them?”

  “Because once you cross, you can’t return to this realm without ridding yourself of them, which is nearly impossible. And nearly impossible is not impossible. There are members of her realm that we – elves, ellefolken, giants – don’t want out. You wouldn’t want them out either.”

  “Like who?” Filip asked, perking up a little. The conversation was finally getting interesting for him. He scratched his leg and swatted at a few gnats circling him.

  “Dragons,” Hector replied simply. “There’s a reason there aren’t any more in the world.”

  “No way,” Filip said. “Cool. In another life, I could have been a knight with a noble steed.”

  Aleks shoved him forward, causing Filip to stumble. “Yeah right,” he joked. “You wouldn’t last five minutes in combat with a fire-breathing dragon.”

  Filip shoved Aleks back with a halfhearted, “Watch it.”

  Norwick extended a wing and flattened them both to the ground. Zaria and Geirr laughed. Even Hector looked amused.

  “I’m glad to see you are getting your spirit back,” Hector told the beast. “Dragons,” he said to the children, “are shapeshifters. They can be man, elf, giant, troll, or beast. They are most powerful in their true form, but I wouldn’t underestimate them in their secret forms.”

  Geirr said, “Do they have powers?”

  “Not like Helena, who is a sorceress. If they could produce the magic that she could, we’d be in serious trouble. Their power is animal magnetism. They can charm; they can mesmerize; they can beguile and lead others so far astray that they are unrecognizable.”

  Zaria looked at him wide-eyed. “So how did you fight them?”

  “You can’t fight a dragon unless you are supremely aware of who you are, your identity, your autonomy, and your dominion over yourself. Otherwise a dragon can creep into your heart and mind like a poison and take you over, make you lose yourself. That is where their power comes from.”

  Zaria nodded numbly. “I’m glad they are trapped in the underworld.”

  “Under Realm,” Hector corrected, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You and me both, Princess.”

  “Why do you call her that?” Aleks asked. “Olaf called her that too.”

  “And one of the cave-trolls.”

  Hector jerked in surprise. “One of mountain-trolls called you princess?”

  Zaria shrugged. “Mangus, the one that captured me… but not at first. At first he called me girl.”

  “That is serious,” Hector said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. He looked behind them into the deep shadows of the cave. “We best hurry along then. If that troll tells King Kafirr who you are, our previous troubles with the trolls will seem minor by comparison.”

  “But who am I?” Zaria asked. “I’m nobody. I’m not a princess. I’m just a normal kid.”

  “That is not my secret to share. And even if I could share it, I would not.”

  “What does that mean?” Zaria asked.

  When she didn’t get a response she looked over at Aleks. He was similarly disturbed. They shared a meaningful look before hurrying to rejoin the group that had gotten slightly ahead of them.

  ***

  “We’re here,” Hector said, as they reached a rock wall.

  “Um,” Zaria started. “Hector, this is a pile of rocks. Wouldn’t that way make more sense?” She gestured to the left where the floor continued to slope up.

  “Ye of little faith,” he replied with a grin and a wink. “The elves are masters of illusions. Come, follow me.”

  He walked up to the wall, stuck his hand around a corner that was indistinguishable to the naked eye and then disappeared.

  “That was cool,” Geirr commented, awe in his voice. He followed next.

  It reminded Zaria of her favorite fantasy series, but instead of the use of magic to slide into a wall it was optical illusion to slide around it. She waited to go through last, so she could appreciate the deception of the illusion. It was quite a treat to see Norwick slip through and then vanish like smoke. She went next and loved the discovery of the corridor behind the wall.

  “Good,” Hector said in the cramped space. “Now we go to the elevator.”

  “You’re kidding? An actual elevator?”

  Hector laughed. “No, of course not an elevator like the ones you are used to in your cities. This one does not use electricity.”

  The bad thing about being at the back of the group, Zaria thought as she walked, was the inability to see around Norwick. His bulk took up the entire hallway so she didn’t see what caused the boys to murmur their appreciation. She heard it though. It was water; at first unrecognizable, but as they got closer it roared in her ears.

  Hector shouted above the noise. “I’m going to talk to the guardian.”

  Zaria ducked between Norwick’s feet and scrambled into a standing position. She blew her wisps of hair out of her eyes and gasped in delight. Twinkling lights lit the space all around. They moved with soft fluttering sounds and Zaria realized that they were fireflies. Hundreds of them!

  A marvelous old wooden mechanical structure with wheels, gears, pulleys, buckets, and water filled the space from wall to wall. They stood at the banks of a natural waterfall which churned the dark water at their feet. The boys were exploring their surroundings with obvious glee. It was like stumbling upon a lost world.

  Hector knocked on a fortified metal door. A few moments passed, and Hector knocked again. The peephole opened and beady eyes looked out.

  “What’s this? Who’s there?” asked a squeaky and unfriendly
voice.

  “Master Brown,” Hector called loudly. “It is I, Hector. I’ve brought some young friends with me. We are looking for passage to the topside.”

  The beady eyes glinted as they took in the children. “Go away! I don’t deal with humans.”

  “Come now, Master Brown,” Hector cajoled. “That is no way to be hospitable.”

  “NO!”

  Hector winked at the children. “Well then, I guess we’ll have to camp here until you decide you’d rather be rid of us. My wyvern loves to leave places really smelly, and he’s had a bad case of indigestion recently. I can only imagine what that will be like for you.”

  “And I love to sing,” Zaria piped up, catching onto Hector’s plan.

  She started singing as loudly as she could and was subsequently earsplittingly off key. Her caterwauling reverberated in the space which made it worse. The boys took their cue from her and started climbing on things and pulling at things and banging on things.

  Master Brown’s beady eyes widened in alarm. “No need to do that!” he shouted. “Stop! Stop!”

  A series of clicks and clacks reverberated in the cavern as he unlocked the door, which creaked angrily on its hinges as he yanked it open. A short blue-skinned man stood on a stepstool breathing heavily. He skewered them with a spiteful glare. His mouth was pursed in a tight moue of repressed anger. Zaria immediately ceased her singing and gulped nervously.

  “Sometimes, I really despise you, Hector.”

  “Now, now, Master Brown, don’t be like that. We’re all friends here.”

  Hector motioned to the three boys, and they quickly clambered down from their various perches. The children gathered meekly in front of Master Brown and Hector trying to look angelic. The illusion cracked as first Filip, then Aleks, then Geirr, and finally Zaria burst out laughing.

  Master Brown harrumphed. He turned to Hector. “I was just about to turn in for the night. You and your group are proving to be awfully inconvenient. It’s going to cost you.”

  Hector held out his hand and asseverated, “Of course. It is, after all, a great inconvenience to you. Shall I add two of your favorites to your next order? On me, of course?”

  Master Brown’s face lit with pleasure. “That would be satisfactory.”

  He shook Hector’s hand to seal the deal and then hopped off his stool. He scurried around flipping switches, turning knobs, and checking gears. He cast a baleful look at Norwick and made a few more adjustments.

  “There,” he said satisfied with his work. “Now,” he hurried over to the children and started to herd them onto a circular shape on the floor. “Stick close together if you please. Hang onto the rail.”

  “What rail?” Aleks said, looking around.

  With a swoosh a rail sprung from the floor. It stopped at their waists. The children took a firm grip and shrieked, as the circular platform leapt to the ceiling propelled by a geyser of water.

  Zaria ducked down because it looked like they were going to crash into the ceiling. Her whole body tensed at the expected impact. She focused on Hector and Norwick, as they watched from below, their shapes getting smaller and smaller.

  Moonlight fell unexpectedly on the quartet, and Zaria looked up. Dirt and small stones rained down as the ceiling cracked open. The opening enlarged into a circle roughly double the size of their platform. Their ride stopped abruptly when they drew even with the opening.

  “Oh wow,” Aleks said, awed.

  Zaria agreed. They were in the middle of a silver glade. The snow glittered, ice dripped like diamonds from tree branches, and birds chirruped like tinkling bells. It was surreal.

  “Welcome to Álfheim,” a male elf said from behind them. His ears were large and tapered into sharp points. At seeing them, Zaria mourned for a moment the fact that Aleks’ ears did not do the same.

  “Hello,” Filip said with a small wave.

  “It’s not often that Master Brown admits visitors to us,” the elf said, throwing a switch by his feet, which lowered the rail.

  “Why is he called Master Brown?” Geirr asked. “He’s blue.”

  The elf laughed. “You must be humans. He’s a brownie. Brownies are blue. Master Brown is his name.”

  Geirr laughed through his embarrassment. “Oh,” was all he said.

  Zaria liked the elf’s voice, which was smooth like maple syrup and just as rich. His hair was as pale a blond as Hector’s hair was as dark a blond and still could be called blond. He had a trim mustache, a nicely folded cravat, starched shirt-points, and wore a friendly smile. His Victorian period clothing suited him. He held out his hand.

  “Come,” he said, helping the children off the platform one at a time. “My name is Edevart.”

  When the children were safely off the platform, Edevart picked up a hollow circular object and spoke into it. He placed it by his ear when he was done and nodded a few times. Then he spoke into it again.

  “It’s like a phone,” Aleks said, surprised.

  “Remember what Hector said?” Geirr said. He looked like he wanted to try the elf-phone himself. “Elves like to read and research human technology.”

  “That explains the water elevator too,” Filip said, looking impressed. “Nifty.”

  Zaria was equally impressed. She continued gazing around trying to take it all in. There was so much to see. At her feet was a cluster of snow drops. She bent and plucked one, twirling it between her fingers.

  “There we are,” Edevart said, hanging up the phone.

  The platform sank from view, and shortly after Hector and Norwick flew out of the opening.

  Edevart laughed heartily. “I should have known it was you, Stag Lord. Welcome. Welcome.”

  * * *

  Chapter Ten: Discovering Gloomwood Forest

  The moon rose fully over the glades. There, situated high in the birch trees, silver lights winked on inside the elves’ homes. The buildings and walkways were strung about like cobwebs, gossamer and shimmery. Frosted glass constructed most of the structures and Zaria could vaguely see the shadows of the occupants inside.

  A bonfire was set up in the heart of the glade. There Zaria rested peacefully with the boys enjoying the warm glow thrown by the fire. She was happy, relaxed, and overly stuffed, but she wasn’t complaining per se. Sleep tugged at her consciousness and her eyelids felt heavy, but Zaria fought it off. There was still too much to do to find Christoffer and time was running short.

  “I hope Christoffer is okay,” she said softly so only her friends could hear her.

  Geirr rubbed his eyes and yawned. “We made it this far. It seems more and more doable each day.”

  Filip tossed a stick into the flames. The fire cast his face in flickering waves of light and shadows. He was brooding. Every now and then he looked about with a contemplative expression. Finally he sighed noisily and leaned forward on his haunches.

  “Guys,” he whispered, and Zaria had to lean closer to hear him. “This place is the least gloomy vale in the whole of Norway. Everyone is happy. The trees are healthy. Nothing is dark. Everything is silvery and shiny and glows.”

  Aleks looked around as if just realizing this and cursed. “You’re right.”

  “But this is where Olaf directed us to go,” Zaria said. “We have to be in the right place.”

  “Well,” Geirr interrupted, dragging out the word. “If I recall correctly he said we should seek Álfheim for more about the heart, not necessarily that Álfheim was situated in Gloomwood Forest.”

  “But elves guard the dead,” Zaria pressed. “It would make sense that we’re somewhere in Gloomwood.” She turned to face Aleks and said, “I wish Hector had thought to get all of our belongings from those trolls, not just your stargazer and his things.”

  Aleks shook his head. “I can live without the other stuff, but this little guy –” he held up the stargazer, “– will save our bacon.”

  “I could really use those maps,” Zaria bemoaned; then continued with the non sequitur, “I’m so full
.”

  Filip groaned and stretched out. “Me too. I don’t think I could eat again for days. Those MRE’s that Hector gave us and then the feast the elves heaped on us was way too much.”

  “I could sleep for a week,” Aleks muttered, cracking his jaw on a yawn.

  “We can do that once we get back home,” Geirr suggested. “That way we could recover, and our parents would be none the wiser.”

  “Children,” Hector called. He crossed the clearing and stood before them. “I’ve made arrangements with Edevart and his wife to host you this evening. If you need me, I plan to stick around a few days before moving on to Jötunheim.”

  Aleks and Geirr both asked why he was delaying his trip. Hector cocked his head to the side, regarding them. It was a funny look, and Zaria couldn’t repress a giggle. The antlers on his head were the perfect added touch.

  Hector ignored her giggling. “I’m having Norwick looked at by the head husbandman. I want to make sure he’s all right; give him a few days to recover.”

  “Oh,” Aleks said.

  Zaria looked at Hector anxiously. “You’ll let us know, won’t you?”

  He nodded. “Of course, Princess. I know you and Norwick are friends. Goodnight now.” He pointed in the direction he’d come from and moved away from the quartet. “You’ll find Edevart over there.”

  ***

  Edevart and his wife, Frida, were excellent hosts. The friends each had a warm nest of blankets and pillows to sleep in. Frida was as open and friendly as a chattering magpie. Her hair was bright red, freckles danced across her cheeks, and her nose was smudged with flour. She bustled about the inside of the glass home as she heated water for tea and cakes.

  Edevart sat at a beautifully carved table. The legs of the table featured various groups of deer running through the woods. Filip was fascinated and kept tracing the antlers of one with the pad of his thumb.

  “Where did Hector find you all?” Frida asked when she finally paused between her discourse on traveling in winter and the history of her tea cakes (which involved her mother, and Silje, the elf queen). She handed them each a mug before picking up the teakettle to pour.