Lost in Averell

by Tara Grayce

  What if he has already been captured by an ogre? He wouldn’t understand what the ogre tells him, but he would probably understand enough once he’s tossed in a cage and the ogre stokes the fire and eyes the spit.

  Brett should be fine. Terrified, but fine. Ogres rarely eat their victims right away. Usually they wait to fatten them up for a day or two. Trygg and I will find him tomorrow and take him home. Brett will think this is all a strange dream, though he might look at me a little differently at school.

  Forcing my mind to clear as much as I can, I fall asleep to the soothing sound of Trygg munching grass, the swish of his tail, and the sighing of the night breeze in the trees overhead.

  Chapter 7

  My Crush Becomes Lunch

  In the morning, the dryads are just as friendly and generous as they were the night before. They give me another salad for breakfast and whisk me away to the edge of the forest. I wait there, just inside the trees, for Trygg while he walks through the forest with his dryad guide. In front of me, a patch of grass slopes down into a stretch of ground broken by rocks and straggly trees.

  I tap my feet, pace, try to relax on a conveniently sloped tree that also works as a seat, and pace some more. I’m pretty sure Trygg is taking his time about walking across the Ellian Forest.

  Both of my internal clocks are ticking, ticking, ticking. Brett has now been in Averell for fifteen hours, seven hours Earth time.

  How have my parents explained Brett’s disappearance to his mom? It’s now the middle of the night over there. If we don’t find him soon, will the police get involved? A missing person search started? Will they want to search our house or suspect my parents? It will be hard to explain a locked door in the basement.

  I have to find Brett and get him back to Earth as quickly as possible. That’s all there is to it.

  Just when I’m about ready to start into ogre territory on my own instead of waiting for Trygg to get his unicorn rear end over here, Trygg finally ambles out of the forest, munching on a pepplin, an Averellian fruit that resembles an apple, even though it is purple. He tosses the core into the bushes. “Ready to go?”

  “I’ve been ready for the past hour.” I hitch my sack higher onto my shoulder and stroll forward. “Can you please find his trail so we can get moving?”

  “Someone got up on the wrong side of the pasture this morning.” Trygg huffs, turns into a unicorn, and snuffles at the ground.

  I can’t help but tap my foot while he zig-zags in front of me. The dryads said they’d brought me to the place where they’d tossed Brett out of the forest. It shouldn’t take long to find his trail.

  We stand at the edge of the Ellian Forest. Ahead of us, the land falls away into a cracked and creviced landscape pitted with canyons and studded with boulders. This is ogre territory. A maze of rocks, canyons, and caves.

  Trygg halts, sniffs at a spot for a few minutes, then moves off down the slope toward the rocks. I follow. When we enter the rocks, I tiptoe, holding my breath and glancing at the jagged rocks around us. An ogre could lurk behind any of these boulders, waiting to snatch us.

  I should be safe. My dad does have a treaty, of sorts, with the ogres, though it’s mostly an understanding that my dad will pound them into submission if he hears of an ogre eating one of dad’s people. I’m not sure where the unicorns stand with the ogres.

  It can’t be good, considering Trygg slows his pace, stepping carefully to make his hoof falls are as muffled as possible on the rocky ground. His ears swivel constantly while he sniffs the breeze just as much as the ground.

  Trygg stiffens, his head erect, his ears pointed in the same direction. Somewhere in front of us and to the left. In a blink, he changes into a boy and pulls me behind a rock, shoving me down.

  I crouch, tucking my bag tightly against me, holding my breath. There’s no need to ask him what is going on. He must’ve smelled or heard an ogre.

  I smell the ogre before I hear him. Something rotten, like meat left in the sun, wafts on the breeze. The ground trembles, and rocks skitter and crack against each other.

  I risk a peek, not over the top of the boulder where I would be skylined for the ogre to see, but off to the side near the bottom where my head is still hidden in shadows.

  A pair of large, orange-brown feet come into view. Hairy and smelling a lot like Ryan’s socks. With each shuffle, the ogre huffs and grunts, swinging muscled arms that seem too long for his short, stocky body. He’s wearing something almost like a skirt or kilt fashioned from animal hides and...and something that looks like it once might have been silvaran skin with the same hint of blue my dad’s skin has.

  I press a hand over my mouth to stop any sound of escaping. This is such a bad idea. If an ogre finds me, he might not wait to hear who my dad is before he eats me.

  Is Brett already dead? What if an ogre has killed and eaten him already?

  Surely, they wouldn’t. They’d want to fatten him up first, right?

  It’s too late to turn back now. I certainly can’t leave Brett here.

  The sounds and smell of the ogre fades. Trygg transforms into a unicorn. His nostrils flare as he tests the air, his ears and head swiveling to catch even a hint of sound.

  Finally, he nods and creeps back into the semblance of a path we have been following. I should’ve felt the urge to laugh at the sight of a gangly-legged unicorn colt moving each hoof one at a time and tiphoofing forward, but I don’t. Things like that aren’t funny when there’s a horde of hungry ogres waiting around every rock to slurp the marrow from your bones.

  Trygg stiffens again, but this time when he transforms into a boy, he grabs my arm and stays where he is. He turns wide eyes to me. “Ami, I think your friend has been captured by an ogre.”

  It shouldn’t have surprised me. It’s amazing Brett managed to stumble this far into ogre territory without getting captured. But I still had hoped he had somehow wandered all the way through without trouble.

  At least there isn’t a blood spot on the ground in front of us. That’s a good sign, right? It means the ogre must have decided to fatten Brett up before eating him. And that will take a while, since Brett will only get sick trying to eat Averellian food, not fat. He’s more likely to die from dehydration than being eaten by an ogre.

  Still, it means I have to rescue Brett from an ogre.

  I should’ve have waited and told Mom and Dad everything instead of setting off on my own. Dad could’ve gone in here with a band of our knights and negotiated Brett’s release easily. I know everything in Averell is more complicated than a simple stroll over the grasslands, but I had still expected it would be easier to track Brett down than this.

  But I’m here now, and there isn’t time to go all the way back to the castle for help.

  “What are we going to do now?” Trygg braces himself against a boulder behind him. His bright blue and green clothes stand out against the gray boulder.

  I almost ask him to change back into a unicorn just so he won’t stand out so much, but then we wouldn’t be able to converse. Besides, while his clothes may stand out, he’s at least smaller in his human form. “I don’t know. Look, Trygg, you don’t have to come with me. I know you didn’t sign up for ogres.”

  He huffs a breath. “We talked about this already. I can’t just leave you alone. Unicorns don’t leave their herdmates behind.”

  “So I’m a part of your herd now?” I cross my arms and give him a fake glare to hide the warmth in my chest. Trygg may not know everything about me, but he is a true friend. I can’t ask for better in any realm.

  “You’re my friend. That’s like being in a special kind of herd.” Trygg shrugs and slings an arm over my shoulders. “You’re stuck with me. So what sort of trouble do you plan to get us into?”

  That is a good question. And I’m afraid I can only come up with one answer.

  “I think we have to try to rescue him.”

  Chapter 8

  Non-Magically Modified Meat, Please

  T
rygg and I crouch outside of the cave entrance where Trygg has tracked the ogre that took Brett. I peek around the jagged mouth of the cave. The cave is lit from a large fire burning in an alcove. Smoke puffs from a hole in the roof of the cave.

  A large figure moves about, silhouetted against the orange firelight. The ogre. He turns something on a spit over the fire, and for a moment, my heart stops.

  But the shape is wrong. Too bulky to be Brett.

  When I sweep my gaze around the cave again, I finally spot the cage nestled to one side in the shadows. A shape curls behind the bars. I can’t tell in the dim interior of the cave, but I think I can see jeans and a white t-shirt.

  I sink to a sitting position with my back to the rocky hillside. What are we going to do? How am I going to get Brett away from that ogre?

  Should I wait until the ogre falls asleep?

  No, I don’t dare wait. Ogres like to hunt at night. The best time to catch the ogre asleep would’ve been early this morning, not now.

  I have to go in now. The ogre is cooking and eating something else. He should be distracted. His stomach full. He won’t be paying attention to the human he is fattening up. Hopefully.

  Trygg slides down next to me. “What do you think? I’ll distract him while you sneak in?” He grins, like this is an excellent idea.

  “No. I think I’m going to go in alone.” I swallow and rub my hands together. My fingers feel cold, even though the afternoon is mild.

  Trygg snorts and shakes his head. “No way I’m letting you go in there by yourself.”

  “I don’t like the idea either.” Sneaking into an ogre’s cave all by myself isn’t on my bucket list. I might not even have the time for a bucket list if I do this. But, it’s the only option I can see. “I’ll be quieter by myself. And I need you to stay out here. If something happens, don’t try to rescue me by yourself. Change into a unicorn and get away. I need you to fetch my father and bring him back here in time for his men to rescue me. They might not get here on time without someone to lead them.”

  Trygg crosses his arms. “Not happening. I’m not going to leave you or let you go in there alone.”

  “Look. My dad has a treaty with the ogres. I should be able to talk my way out of trouble.” I raise my eyebrows. “Do the unicorns have any sort of agreement with the ogres?”

  Trygg shifts. “Um, no. Not really. Sort of. I mean, the ogres leave the herds alone and we leave them alone. But I’m not sure what they would do to a lone unicorn.”

  “Probably eat you. And that ogre would smell you the moment you step inside. But he won’t smell me. I smell like his captive. That’s why I have to go alone.”

  It is a good thing the wind is sweeping down from the hillside above us, keeping us downwind of the ogre as we huddle outside. But once one of us steps inside, the ogre may pick up our scent above the smell of the fire and roasting meat.

  Trygg studies my face, then he nods. “All right. Fine. But if I think there’s a chance I can help, I’m going to charge in, horn at the ready, got it?”

  “I know.” I should have known better than to try to make him stay put. I force myself to smile. “I’ll be fine. Just stay alert. We might have to make a fast exit.”

  I slide around the boulder and tiptoe toward the cave entrance. The ogre has his back to me, turning the spit. Up close, I can tell the roasting animal is some type of mountain goat or cow or something. At least, I hope it’s one of those animals and not a unicorn or one of the sentient creatures of Averell.

  At the entrance, I pause. This is crazy. What do I think I’m doing? I should leave. We should go back to the castle and get help. That would be the smart thing to do.

  But I can’t quit now. Not after I’ve gone this far. I have to get Brett and do my best to correct my mistake. This is all my fault, and I have to fix it.

  I ease into the opening. I can do this. I have to do this.

  If I don’t, then I’m no better than the stereotypical princesses in the stories on Earth. The ones who always need to be saved and can’t do anything for themselves. I don’t want to be that kind of princess. I want to be the kind who saves the day. Who faces the dragon herself. Who fights alongside her prince, whoever he may be.

  Or, perhaps, saves her high school crush once in a while.

  With another deep breath, I force myself a step. Two. I can’t stop now. I can’t go back.

  The cave is warm inside, with the fire blasting heat at the far side. The ogre still has his back to me. This ogre’s clothes are still made from hides, but they appear clean. His orange-brown skin is shining in the firelight, not grimy like the other ogre’s had been. Perhaps this ogre has discovered the meaning of the word bath.

  Doesn’t matter if he’s a clean ogre or a filthy one. I ease along the wall, looking before I place each foot for loose pebbles that would give me away.

  Inside the cage, Brett is still. He’s curled on his side. His shirt and jeans are ripped. Even in the faint light, his skin appears paler than usual for a Michigander in spring. When I take a step closer, I catch of whiff of the putrid stench of vomit.

  Brett must’ve tried to eat something the ogre fed him, and it didn’t agree with him at all.

  I have to get him out of here and get him to drink some water with unicorn horn powder in it.

  First things first. Rescue Brett.

  I take a step forward. Something shifts beneath my feet. The whole side of the cave is slick here, and before I can catch myself, my foot slides out from under me along with a cascade of dirt and pebbles.

  I tumble onto my rear end. I try to scramble to my feet or scoot into a hiding place, but it’s too late.

  The ogre turns and peers into the darkness. He trundles toward me. “Ah, good. Another one. With two, I might have enough for a decent dinner.”

  Talk my way out of this. That’s the plan, isn’t it? I take a deep breath, stand, and brush myself off. I shoot a glance toward the entrance and catch sight of Trygg in unicorn form poised to charge inside. As subtly as I can, I shake my head and motion for him to stay back. It isn’t time yet for him to charge in.

  I face the ogre and force myself to smile. “Hello. I’m Princess Amarani Coriantha. What’s your name?”

  “Grundel.” The ogre scowls. “Princess, huh. So I can’t eat you.”

  “Um, no. Not without offending my father, which isn’t a good idea. He’s just spent the last three days in conference with the dragons and the unicorns.” I clasp my hands in front of me and concentrate on adding brilliance to my smile, which mostly involves thinking happy thoughts and flashing my teeth in best princess fashion. “And, I’m afraid, you can’t eat him either.”

  I half-turn so that I can see both Grundel the ogre and Brett.

  Brett has pushed himself to his knees. He clasps the bars of his cage. The firelight casts deep wells of shadow beneath his eyes. He blinks. “Amy?”

  Hearing English...and my English name...nearly sends me reeling. It is too surreal having Brett here. In Averell. My two worlds are never supposed to collide. Never.

  I can’t let it rattle me now. I have to get the two of us out of here without being eaten.

  “Why can’t I eat him?” Grundel reaches for a rag that looks like it once was someone’s shirt and wipes each finger before he crosses his arms. “I can’t eat you because of the ogres’ agreement with King Finian. But he’s not from Averell. I can smell it. So he isn’t protected by the treaty.”

  “Amy, what’s going on?” Brett tries to stand in the cage, but he staggers and falls back to his hands and knees. He makes a retching noise, and I quickly turn away. I don’t want to have the image of my crush puking his guts out on an ogre’s floor to be burned into my memory. It’s going to be hard enough to face him in class on Monday as it is.

  Grundel’s top lip tightens and curls at the corner. He takes a step back, and his face is...I guess on a human I would’ve called it disgusted.

  He doesn’t like his food to be sick and vomitin
g.

  I point over my shoulder at Brett. “That’s why you can’t eat him. He’s sick, and he’ll make you sick if you eat him.” Which is true. Since Brett is from Earth, he would disagree just as much with the ogre as Averellian food does with him.

  Grundel backs away another step. “Sick? As in, diseased?” He picks up the cloth again, as if prepared to whip out a can of disinfectant and start cleaning his cave right this moment. “Is it contagious?”

  “No, it’s not. It’s...magical in nature.” That’s also sort of true. Brett is sick because his science-based body isn’t fully compatible with the magic-based land of Averell.

  “Magically modified?” Grundel shudders. “But I only eat organic, non-magically modified creatures! I have a very sensitive stomach!”

  “I would be happy to get him out of here for you, so that you don’t have to touch him.” I rock back and forth on my heels, the picture of innocence and helpfulness. Sometimes, being a princess and learning how to hide feelings and act a part comes in handy.

  “Yes! Yes! Please take him out of here!” Grundel reaches for another cloth. “I’m going to have to give this whole cave a thorough scrubbing. Who knows what sort of diseases he brought in? Magical tampering, ugh!”

  “I sincerely apologize. He wasn’t supposed to escape the experiment room at the castle.” I turn to the cage. The key is hanging on a peg. It is out of Brett’s reach, but I stand on my tiptoes and take it down.

  I unlock the cage door. When its hinges creak, Brett raises his head and tries to get to his feet once again. I pull one of his arms over my shoulder and heave him the rest of the way to his feet.

  He smells gross. Like sweat and vomit and something rotting.

  Not the most romantic way to get close to my high school crush. Actually, I’m having a hard time finding any crush-like feelings for him at the moment. Maybe my crush is an Earth-only thing. Or maybe finding him puking his guts out is the cure for this crush that I’ve been trying to fight for the past few years.