Good Ogre

by Platte F. Clark

  “Is everyone safe?” Max asked between gulps of air. He stared at the sky, seeing the tumbling clouds of the storm overhead. It was a reminder that the worst was still to come. A river of mud was nothing compared to the power of the Maelshadow.

  “We’re all here,” Dwight answered.

  “Yeah, that was epic!” Dirk exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Glenn had been slung over his shoulder and the magic lute spit out a mouthful of mud.

  The rest were climbing back to their feet when Dirk suddenly yelled, “Over there!” He was pointing at Megan and Sydney, and the lone howler that had each of the sisters by the throat.

  “I’m sorry,” Megan said. “I didn’t see it coming.”

  “No sudden moves,” Sarah commanded. “And nobody raise a weapon.”

  The group watched as the howler glared back at them. It was wearing parts of a high school football uniform, including a helmet, shoulder pads, and padded pants.

  “Just what we need,” Dirk added, “a jock monster.”

  “Let me take the shot,” Melvin said under his breath. He looked down at the bow lying at his feet. “I can make it.”

  “Nobody’s doing anything,” Max warned, standing with his hands in the air. “Did you hear that?” he called to the creature. “We’re not going to do anything.”

  “Yousss going to die,” the creature hissed back.

  “Max?” Sydney cried out, looking frail against the taloned hand at her throat.

  “Don’t worry,” Max replied, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “No one’s going to die today.”

  “Foolsss!” the creature spat. “She’sss coming for you.”

  “She . . . ?” Melvin asked.

  “No, she’sss,” Dirk replied.

  “Wait, are you talking about the Maelshadow?” Sarah asked, ignoring Dirk. “Is the Maelshadow a girl?”

  “That would be kind of ironic, you know, because it’s called the male shadow,” Glenn added.

  “I don’t think knowing if the Maelshadow is a boy or a girl is important right now,” Puff replied.

  “It is if it wants to hold your hand,” Dirk replied. “Just saying—it could happen.”

  “The Lord of Shadowssss does not want to hold your hand!” the howler screamed, losing patience. Then it suddenly lifted its nose and sniffed at the air. “Ssshe draws near! One for me and one for her! Better half than none at all!” The howler shoved Megan forward, causing her to stumble over her long white robe and fall to the ground. Then it whirled, throwing Sydney under its arm as it ran toward a small outcropping of rocks across the field. It used its free hand like a third leg as it flew toward its objective, and Max’s heart sank—it was running far too fast for any of them to catch.

  “Sydney!” Megan cried out. She turned to the others: “Help her!”

  “Wait!” Wayne exclaimed. His voice thundered from his massive chest as he raised his hand and pointed at a black beast in the distance. It had crested a nearby hill and was looking down at them. Shaped like a horse, it was bigger and more terrifying than any horse imaginable. Flames rose from its hooves, the same crimson color as its eyes, and as it stepped forward they could make out a single, misshapen horn erupting from its head.

  “Impossible,” Dwight said as he stared at the beast.

  “What is that?” Sarah asked. “Some kind of unicorn?”

  “Princess . . . ?” Dirk began, holding his hand over his eyes. “Is that you, baby?” He had remained convinced that Princess was his girlfriend, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

  “If she was caught in the storm . . . ,” Max began.

  Wayne continued, his words measured. “That creature is a nightmare. It is born of the Shadrus and endowed with terrible power.”

  “It’s more than that,” Puff added. “It’s also a unicorn. And that means it’s much, much worse.”

  And then Dirk saw it: a single patch of pink within the layers of the coal-black mane. “It’s her! It’s Princess! What’s happened?”

  “She’s changed, like everything else caught in the Cataclysm,” Dwight said coolly.

  “What about Sydney?” Melvin exclaimed, retrieving his bow. “We can’t worry about some unicorn thing now; we have to go after her!”

  Then the nightmare reared, fire dripping from its hooves and setting the surrounding grass aflame. “Time to keep an old promise,” the creature bellowed. She sounded just like Princess as the wind rose and carried her voice across the open field. “Time to eat.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AN OLD FRIEND

  THE BALL OF FIRE WAS perfectly cast.

  It shot across the field and intersected with the running howler, hitting the creature square on its helmeted head and sending it toppling forward. Sydney flew from the creature’s arm, managing to right herself in midair with a furious fluttering of wings. She quickly gained control and brought herself to a stop, hovering just above the ground.

  The howler screamed in fury, picking itself up and charging the airborne pixie. But now that the thought of flight had occurred to her, Sydney beat her wings even harder, zipping higher into the air. The howler leapt for her, but she was too fast. She giggled, despite herself, watching from above as the frustrated monster jumped over and over again in an attempt to reach her. Then another perfectly aimed fireball struck the creature on the helmet again, sending the beast flying backward. It ripped the smoldering plastic from its head, looking for its unknown assailant. In the end, the howler decided the odds had shifted against it. It let out one last scream and ran for parts unknown, fighting strange memories that it used to do something similar while carrying a ball and in front of cheering crowds.

  Max had watched as the events unfolded, confused at how fireballs had appeared without his doing. Then he saw a small orange-and-white kitten bound to the top of the rocks.

  “Hi, Max!” Moki shouted at him. “Did you know there’s a door over here?”

  Max turned to the others. “Run!”

  They took off in the direction of the fire kitten.

  Princess, still in nightmare form, thundered down the hill after them.

  “I can’t believe we’re running from a unicorn that wants to eat us again!” Sarah exclaimed. Max was too busy gasping for air to answer, but he worried that what she was really saying was This is all your fault, Max Spencer. Just in case you’ve forgotten.

  Dirk was the fastest, and he pulled ahead of the group. Even then, he probably wasn’t fast enough to outrun Nightmare-Princess. Max chanced a look over his shoulder and saw the black monster galloping toward them, a line of fire marking its path from the hill. He also saw Dwight falling behind. The dwarf could run fairly well, all things considered, but in his armor he just couldn’t make the same strides as everyone else. Puff was galloping (Max hadn’t realized that fluff dragons could gallop) alongside Dwight, but it was clear they weren’t going to make the rocky outcropping in time. “Get everyone to the rocks!” Max called to Melvin. “Take cover!”

  Melvin grunted, running with his bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. He’d tried to nock the arrow while he sprinted across the field, but he nearly tripped in the process. Max veered to the side, grabbing the Codex as he came to a stop. He began flipping through the pages—he needed to find a spell to buy the others time—he didn’t have the strength to handle a Prime Spell again.

  Nightmare-Princess lowered her head, aiming her horn at Max as she charged. The sound of thunder ripped through the air as the tainted magic made itself known.

  “Max!” Sarah shouted behind him, but he couldn’t worry about her just then. He only hoped Melvin could keep the others running toward safety—or what he hoped was safety. He had no idea what Moki meant by a “door,” but it was the best chance they had. The pages of the Codex flew through his fingers, suddenly stopping on a spell: Magical Shaved Ice! listed under Popular
Spells at Parties. Max groaned, but there was no time left. He read the spell out loud, drawing it from the page and sending it at the charging, unholy unicorn. At the same time a lightning bolt ripped from Nightmare-Princess’s horn and whizzed past him. The air exploded and Max was blinded by a field of dazzling lights. It nearly knocked him off his feet but he managed to stay upright, the Codex still clutched in his hands. Max did his best to clear his vision, anticipating the blow that was about to come. But when his vision cleared, he saw Nightmare-Princess on her side, screaming with rage. Then Max saw her hooves—instead of spitting fire they were covered in perfectly formed blocks of ice (just the right size, in fact, for shaving ice into snow cones). With each attempt to stand, Nightmare-Princess lost her footing and slammed back to the ground.

  Max watched her for a moment, and supposed he had the magic to defeat her right then and there. But Princess had become his friend, and it wasn’t her fault she’d gotten caught up in the magical storm. In fact, it was squarely his fault. Max promised himself that none of his friends would pay the price for his mistake. He turned to find Sarah standing behind him, her sword in hand. Of course she didn’t keep running with the others, Max said to himself. She’ll face the danger head-on.

  “Come on,” Max said, grabbing Sarah by the hand and running toward the rocks. Max wasn’t typically a hand grabber, especially when the other hand belonged to a girl.

  Sydney fluttered down to her sister, and she and Megan gave each other a hug. When Max reached Moki, he let go of Sarah and grabbed the little fire kitten. “Moki!” he exclaimed, genuinely happy to see him.

  “Wow, look at all your new friends,” Moki announced.

  “Wait a minute,” Dwight said, pointing at the fire kitten. “How is it you survived the storm?”

  Moki shrugged. “I was taking a nap.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dwight pressed. “The Cataclysm changes everything it touches. That monstrosity back there is Princess, and she’s a freaking unicorn!”

  Max looked Moki over and then noticed a change. “Look, the color of his eye is different.” And in fact, one of Moki’s eyes had gone from green to gray.

  “I have a cat—but it doesn’t talk and throw fireballs,” Melvin added. “I was going to guess maybe that was it.”

  “No, Moki could always do that,” Puff replied. “He’s a fire kitten from the Magrus.” Melvin nodded as if that was perfectly reasonable.

  Dwight scratched at his beard. “So you’re telling me that squirrels have suddenly militarized and turned into an army, people have become howler monsters, Princess is a nightmare, and all that happened to Moki was his eye changed color?”

  “Fire kittens are a mysterious bunch,” Puff added. “They pretty much keep to themselves.”

  The frustrated cries of Nightmare-Princess rang out behind them. “Moki, hurry and show us that door,” Max commanded, feeling the urgency of the situation once again. Moki pointed to the outcropping, where a single smooth rock rose about five feet out of the ground. Behind it, the Malaspire with its twisting tornado was visible in the distance.

  “Moki, that’s just a rock,” Sarah said.

  But Puff moved over to the slab of stone and took a closer look. “Fire kittens have remarkably good eyesight,” the fluff dragon said. “Maybe there’s a hidden entrance or something?”

  Max moved to join Puff and felt a warm vibration in the air. “There’s some kind of magic going on,” he announced.

  “Yep. A door,” Moki confirmed.

  Wayne was keeping an eye on Nightmare-Princess. “Whatever you’re going to do, you need to hurry.”

  “Moki, any idea how to get inside?” Max asked the fire kitten.

  “Maybe we could scratch at it?” he suggested.

  “Oh, move off,” Dwight grunted, pushing past Max and looking the stone over. He felt around the smooth surface with his hands and stepped back, scratching at his beard. “Well, it’s not mechanical.”

  “If it’s magic, how do we get in?” Megan asked.

  Dirk pointed to the door. “It’s probably one of those riddle doors,” And as soon as Dirk said the word “riddle,” the rock began to twist and turn until a stone face stretched out and regarded them.

  “A riddle then it is,” the face said.

  The group stared at the strange stone face for a moment—it was more or less shaped like a human, with large ears and a wide nose. Melvin cleared his throat and said, “You are obviously a great and powerful magical door—”

  “Oh, please,” the door answered, interrupting Melvin. “Flattery is not going to get you in.” That seemed to throw Melvin off.

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah said, jumping into the conver­sation. “Are you saying there’s a way you will let us past?”

  “Let me guess, this is your first time at a magic door? Okay, everyone listen up so I don’t have to repeat myself. I am a Select-O-Magic locking door and can be opened once every twenty-four hours. You may gain entry in one of the following ways: knocking three times, touching my surface with a magical item, or answering a riddle. You have selected the riddle.”

  “Oh no we didn’t,” Dwight said, motioning to Dirk. “This one doesn’t speak for us, so it doesn’t count.”

  “Well he did and it does,” the door replied, sounding a little smug.

  “You’re telling me that if our lute-wielding Pirate here hadn’t said anything, we could have just knocked?” Dwight asked, the irritation in his voice evident.

  “Or touched you with something magical,” Megan said, looking at her staff.

  “Would have, could have, should have,” the door replied. “Next time maybe you should think twice about letting pirates into your party.”

  “I’m not a pirate!” Dirk protested.

  Melvin turned back to the group and warned, “Uh, guys, whatever spell Max cast is starting to wear off. That thing is about to get up.”

  “And be careful who you’re calling a thing,” Dirk said to Melvin. “That’s my girlfriend—even if she does want to eat us at the moment.”

  “Can we just answer this stupid riddle!?” Sydney exclaimed, looking back and forth from Nightmare-Princess to the door.

  “I like riddles,” Moki added. “They’re fun.”

  Dwight resisted the urge to pick the fire kitten up and punt him over the rocks. “Fine, then,” he grunted. “Let’s be quick about it.”

  The face cleared its throat and looked at Dirk. “Since this one initiated the lock, he’s the one who will give me the answer—and you only get one chance, so don’t go asking me for more. Understood?”

  “No problemo,” Dirk answered, sounding way more confident then the others thought appropriate.

  “Here it is, then,” the face continued:

  Thirty-two white horses

  Upon a crimson hill:

  Each must rise and each must fall,

  A fate they’ll all fulfill.

  What are they?

  Dirk immediately started to reply, but Sarah managed to clasp her hand over his mouth before he could speak. “Let’s talk this over before we give an answer, okay?”

  Wayne, however, took several steps backward. “She’s getting up,” he said, his grip tightening around the axe in his hand. The others turned to see Nightmare-Princess slip the first hoof free from the ice.

  Sarah turned to the face. “Are we allowed to talk things over?”

  “It’s allowed,” the face replied.

  Sarah carefully removed her hand from Dirk’s mouth. “Dirk, tell the group what you think the answer is.”

  “Candy corn,” he replied at once. Sarah blinked several times, trying to get her head around it. Dwight, on the other hand, took his finger and pointed it squarely at Dirk.

  “What’s wrong with you?” the dwarf asked. “That’s the worst answer ever.”

 
Dirk shrugged. “I don’t know; I just went with my gut.”

  “We should at least consider the big five,” Melvin suggested. “Mountain, wind, dark, fish, and time.”

  “I don’t really think it’s any of those,” Megan added thoughtfully.

  “Hurry it up . . . ,” Wayne warned.

  “‘Horses’ is probably a metaphor for something,” Puff said. “I doubt it literally means horses.”

  “And I doubt any of you are going through that door anytime soon,” Glenn piped in.

  “What’s a metaphor again?” Sydney asked.

  Megan turned to her sister. “It’s when you use one thing to describe another. Like ‘laughter is the music of the soul.’”

  Max ignored the others and focused on the riddle. He assumed the world could be easily divided between those who liked riddles and those who didn’t. Max was decidedly in the camp that thought annoying riddles amounted to brain bullying. He also didn’t care for corn mazes, puzzles, or math. But he did his best to try to visualize thirty-two horses on a red hill. His brain protested as a result, reminding him that he wasn’t very good at this sort of thing.

  “Thirty-two is a very specific number,” Sarah said.

  “I like the number thirty-two,” Moki chimed in. “I like it one better than thirty-one.”

  “Blasted stupid door!” Dwight exclaimed as he kicked at the dirt. “I have no idea.”

  “Again, we need to hurry,” Wayne said. Nightmare-Princess had risen on her front two hooves and was working to get the ice off her rear legs. The frozen blocks glowed orange and yellow as her magical flames fought to melt them.

  “So looks like candy corn is the best option so far,” Dirk suggested.

  “Would you quit saying candy corn!” Melvin protested. “I can’t stand them—they always get stuck in my teeth.”

  Sydney tilted her head. “Hey, I just remembered something.”

  “Time’s up,” Wayne said. In the distance, the creature had regained her footing and was staring across the field at them.