Dire Woods

The old woman wrapped her arms around the old fellow and gave him a rib-cracking hug. “You old charlatan,” she chortled. “You told me your name was Drum Bellow!”

Dunston quickly ushered the group in through the door. “What exactly is going on?” he asked, closing the door behind them. “How do you two know each other?”

Mrs. Wickaby punched the younger dwarf playfully in the arm. “Of course, we know each other,” she announced. “Tan, or Drum Bellow here, is the dwarf that gave me the sun diamond!”

“And a worthy trade it was,” the antique dwarf responded, his numerous wrinkles resigning themselves into a tremulous smile. “My lovely Ruby recovered and lived long and well after she’d swallowed your potion.”

He led them into a cozy sitting room. Shelves lined the back wall, full of books, rocks, gems and strange little contraptions that looked intriguing. Two well-cushioned chairs faced the wood-burning stove. “Sit down, sit down,” he ordered. Mrs. Wickaby sat in the chair closest the fire, the old dwarf sat beside her still holding her hand. John Joseph perched on a hassock, while Emily and Dunston shared a small bench below the diamond paned window.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” the old dwarf gushed. “Just a glimpse of your lovely face brings back memories of my darling wife. But it‘s been at least twenty years since I visited your home,” he continued. “What brings you here now?”

“I need a favour from you,” Mrs. Wickaby answered. “A rather large one.”

The old dwarf grasped her hand tightly. “Anything for you, my dear, anything.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not keep,” Dunston said. “It’s a pretty big anything she’s asking for.”

The old dwarf’s smile faded. “How big?” he asked.

“We need to know the location of the dwarf pass through Talon Mountains,” Mrs. Wickaby said.

A stillness had come over the room. John Joseph felt that even to take a breath would somehow affect the outcome. Tan’s old head had started to shake, backwards and forwards like an unsure weather vane.

“It’s a secret,” he whispered. “Always has been,” he continued. “Only a chosen few were ever given the map.” Amazingly, he turned to face John Joseph and directed his next question directly to him. “Why do you need to know?”

“I need to get to St. Francis Academy for help,” he said. “Lots of help.” He knew how important his answer was and somehow he just couldn’t seem to find the words. In desperation, he scanned around him for the earth power he’d come to rely on. He gasped softly. The little cottage was surging with it. An unaccustomed calm come over him and he continued. “I’m John Joseph Alabaster, from the Town of January, Mr. Tan. My Aunt Angerona has done away with my parents and now she’s after me. I need the help of the wizards and witches of St. Francis Academy to defeat her, or I’m dead myself.” He glanced at Emily and Mrs. Wickaby. “Along with my friends, I imagine, and all that help me.” As soon as he’d said the words, he knew they were true. His aunt wouldn’t be satisfied with just finishing him off. In her rage, she’d punish anyone who meant anything to him, anyone who had helped him.

“I see,” the old dwarf said. “It’s always amazed me how things always travel in a circle. Beginnings, endings, they merge into one.” He squeezed Mrs. Wickaby’s hand. “I never told you, my dear, but Angerona Alabaster was responsible for my wife’s illness. My darling Ruby was a map holder, too, and this boy’s aunt also wanted to know the location of the pass. She wanted to know it quite badly. Ruby refused. Angerona cursed her. It was that curse which your potion dissolved.”

“But that was twenty years ago,“ Emily said. “How old was Angerona?”

“Eighteen,” Mrs. Wickaby said. “She was eighteen years old. She‘s two years older than John Joseph’s father. She was powerful at a very young age,” the old woman added. “Of course, she’s even more powerful now.”

“And wicked!” Emily shouted. “Unbelievably wicked!”

The old dwarf nodded in agreement. “I suppose her wickedness has increased along with her powers?” he asked Mrs. Wickaby.

“If anything, I’d say it had surpassed them,” the old woman proclaimed.

“I can’t give you the map,” Tan stated.

John Joseph felt his heart flutter. Of course he couldn’t, his wife would have died before giving it to Aunt Angerona. He started to rise slowly from his seat. Back to Option Number One.

But the old man hadn’t finished. “It’s a family heirloom, precious beyond belief. We’ll just have to make you a copy.”

Emily shrieked, Mrs. Wickaby gave Tan another huge hug and John Joseph’s heart beat even more frantically. Only Dunston sat silently.

“You never shared it with me,” he commented softly. “You never even told me where the pass was.”

“I was going to,” the old man replied. “On your next birthday.” Tan grinned. “He’s going to be 100. I didn’t want to give him the map when he was too young, you see, young dwarves can be headstrong and impulsive.”

Dunston blushed.

John Joseph’s mouth dropped open. He’s 100! And he’s young?

Mrs. Wickaby pulled the pouch from her neck and handed the sun diamond over to Dunston. “You might as well have this too,” she said. “I’ve been paid twice for one potion.”

The old man went to push the gem back into Mrs. Wickaby’s hands, but she shook her head. “Full circle, remember?”

Tan touched the stone lovingly and placed it reverently on a polished shelf.

“You’ll have to close your eyes while I get out the map,” the old man instructed.

Close our eyes?

The old dwarf seemed to read his mind. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust you,” he said. “But there are rules to follow.”

John Joseph shut his eyes.

“Okay,” said Tan. “You can open them now.”

The map was leather and still supple. The illustrations beautiful. Emily copied it; she was brilliant at art. Dunston made them tea while they discussed their plans.

“You know this is going to be dangerous, don’t you?” the old dwarf asked. “Mountain Trolls have moved into Dragon Tongue Pass over the years. It’s the reason I haven’t gone back lately.” He gave his nephew a fond look. “And the reason I wasn’t eager to give Dunston the map until he was old enough. I didn’t want him to go traipsing off into Talon Mountains and getting himself killed.”

“There’s danger wherever we go at the moment, Tan,” Mrs. Wickaby responded. “And the pass seems to be the choice with the greatest chance of success.”

John Joseph stared at the copied map on the small table. It looked complicated but decipherable, then he noticed that Emily had drawn some nasty little mountain trolls hiding in a cave. Funny. Very funny.

It was getting dark when they said their goodbyes. Mrs. Wickaby gave Tan another boisterous hug. The old woman had tears in her eyes as they walked down the pathway to the garden. “He’s a lovely man,“ she murmured. “I’m so glad I got to see him again.“

The wolves and the bog cat were all dozing amidst the vegetables in the garden, their legs paddling in their dreams.

“Glad they weren’t worried,” Emily commented.

“They’re just getting their rest, my dear,” her grandmother assured her, shaking them awake. “Which we have to do, too. We’ve got quite the little jaunt ahead of us.”

Oh yes, a jaunt! A nice little trip into the Talon Mountains to play with the lovely mountain trolls.

After another slice of the delicious bumble berry pie, they headed off to bed. The wolf pack headed off to the barns, but the bog cat followed John Joseph up to his room. He wouldn’t be dissuaded. After one or two hearty growls, they let him be.

“I hope you don’t have fleas,” John Joseph commented as he cuddled under the feather comforter. The bog cat just grunted.

It felt like he’d been asleep for only moments when he was shaken rudely awake. Dunston was leaning over him, the bog cat at his side. “Time to get up,” he urged. “Quickly.”

“What time is it?” John Joseph asked groggily. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s six o’clock, as if that matters. Beldin the goblin, from the blacksmith shop just came into the inn,” the dwarf responded in a hushed voice. “Seems he spotted a group of strangers on the hills beyond the village.”

“You must see strangers every day,” said John Joseph sleepily.

Dunston shook his head. “Once in awhile, but not often. The Dire Wood’s reputation doesn‘t make it much of a tourist spot.”

“Well,” John Joseph replied, pushing the warm comforter down to his feet. “This could be one of those times.”

The dwarf started stuffing the young boy’s belongings haphazardly into his knapsack. “Usually, when people are within half an hours walk of the village, they tend to come in. Something about a hot meal and a warm bed seems to attract them.“ He gave John Joseph a dark look. “They also don’t tend to be armed to the teeth with swords and crossbows.”

John Joseph was still searching for a rational explanation, something that would allow him to snuggle back down into his bed and later have a nice warm meal. “Maybe they don’t even know the village exists,“ he suggested, pushing the bog cat out of the way and stuffing his feet into his stiff socks. “Or maybe they don’t know the exact location.”

Dunston shoved his knapsack into his hands and placed his wand on a fluffy pillow. “They know it exists, boy, and exactly where it is. Beldin heard them arguing. Seems their guide was supposed to get them here in the middle of the night. They weren‘t too happy that they’d arrived behind schedule.”

The dwarf threw his clothes at him and strode to the door. “We’ve got to get you out of here and on the way to the mountains.” The dwarf gave the boy a searching look, accompanied by a wry smile. “It looks like it could be a hairy ride. I hope you’re good with that wand, boy.”

John Joseph ran his hand down the wand’s shaft touching the small leaf bud. I hope so too.