The Severance Game, page 7
Slowly I rose to my feet. “Guys . . .”
“Don’t move!” Blue called back.
“Why?”
The sound of lightning nearby startled me and I jumped. That was the noise I’d been hearing within the tunnel. But it didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t storming. Where could lightning possibly be coming from? I heard it strike again, but this time much closer. And then . . .
“Look out!” Daniel shouted as he tackled me.
A daffodil some three or four yards over released a giant bolt of lightning—striking the spot where I’d previously been standing. The grass there was now charred and dead, much like I would be if Daniel hadn’t pushed me out of the way.
“We have ten seconds. Move!” Jason ordered.
Daniel grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up. I followed him and the others as we dashed across the blanket of violent flowers.
“What did I say about saving me?” I said as I ran next to Daniel.
“You’re right. Sorry. Next time I’ll just let you get fried,” he replied.
Another snap of lightning echoed through the trees.
“Everybody stop!” Blue yelled.
We all froze and listened.
“You know, instead of going ballistic every time I help you,” Daniel continued as we waited, “you could try saying thank you once in a while.”
The second bolt in the series crackled somewhere nearby.
“Thank you?” I scoffed. “I’d sooner say . . . Hit the deck!” I spotted the puckering daffodil just in time and tackled Daniel out of the way just as lightning shot itself in his direction.
“All right, that’s three strikes; let’s go!” Jason shouted.
“Thank you, Knight,” Daniel said sarcastically as we made a run for it.
“Save it,” I said as we plowed through the flowers. “We’re even. That’s what matters.”
Our group continued like this for a few minutes—pausing for each series of three lightning bolts, and then covering as much ground as possible in the intervals between them. While there were some definite close calls along the way, we made it out of the floral death trap without being barbequed.
With no more yellow flowers in sight, we stopped for a moment to catch our breaths. This part of the Forbidden Forest didn’t look too exceptional. The trees seemed ordinary enough, though they did have a light blue tinge to their bark. And the ground was covered almost entirely in moss.
Much to our displeasure, this calm setting was a deception. Moments after we set foot in the area the moss at our feet started to climb up our legs. It tried to consume us like giant green leeches. No matter how we stabbed at them, the living plants continued to work their way up our limbs.
Luckily, SJ was able to destroy them. Using her trusty slingshot, she fired a couple of her marble-sized, homemade red portable potions, which set off medium-sized explosions that temporarily dried up the moss and gave us a chance to make a break for it.
Next we arrived at a spacious clearing where dozens of logs surrounded a skinny stream. It appeared peaceful at first. However, when we approached the waterway to take a well-earned drink, all the logs in the vicinity suddenly began to tremble and then link up.
They were suctioned together by some invisible force—connecting like links in a chain to one particularly contorted log in the center. The different log extensions formed legs, arms, and a body the height of a redwood tree, which proceeded to angrily lunge at us.
Jason jumped into action, removing his axe from its sheath and chopping away at the creature’s arms as they swung in our direction. The rest of us swiftly joined the defensive. Blue’s knife and Daniel’s sword didn’t seem to make much of a difference, but I was able to morph my wand into an axe and aid Jason with his efforts. SJ, meanwhile, managed to fire off the occasional portable potion, which caused the creature to stumble back and lose portions of its limbs altogether.
After a minute of battle, it was clear that the chopping and potion attacks were not giving us the advantage. The creature may have lacked dexterity and higher-thinking functions, but it was still super-fast and aggressive. Plus, it kept calling more logs over to replace its arms and legs faster than we could remove them.
Wait, that’s it; they’re being called to it.
I remembered the first log that had set off the chain reaction was the janked-up one at the center of the body. Of all the pieces we’d severed, this was the only one that had been untouched because the creature kept maneuvering itself to protect it. That must’ve been its heart.
I rolled out of the way as a massive wooden foot attempted to stomp me.
“We need to destroy the log in the middle,” I called to the others. “It’s what’s attracting the other pieces.”
“It’s thirty feet up and this thing isn’t holding still,” Jason responded. “Suggestions?”
I glanced around and did a few trajectory calculations. Then I sprouted an idea that fit the bill. “Blue, climb!” I yelled, gesturing to the tree behind me. “We’re gonna need one heck of a tackle, so get as high as you can!”
“SJ,” I continued, “I need a fire over there; make it big!” I pointed to an area forty feet behind the river. “The rest of you, we’re on distraction duty.” I chopped at the creature’s arm when it tried to crush me again. “Jason, when the time is right I’ll give the signal and we’ll set you up while you take out its left foot. Okay, everybody. Move!”
I had to say, I was surprised at how rapidly they followed my instructions. They didn’t question my guidance in the slightest. Then again, I’d led them into way crazier scenarios than this and they’d never questioned my plans on any of those occasions either.
SJ snuck around the wooden monster as Jason, Daniel, and I distracted it. She used one of her portable potions to start a fire in the area directly behind it while Blue scaled the tree I’d pointed out. When all the conditions were right, I gave the order.
“Jason, now!” I shouted.
Daniel and I continued to use our respective weapons to occupy the creature’s attention on its lower right side while Jason made a break for its left. With one grand motion he swung and chopped off a sizeable chunk of its foot.
The monster now off-balance, Blue took the opening to draw her knife and jump off the tree she was clinging to. She shot straight down on the wooden menace—the force and trajectory of her tackle mixing with the creature’s lack of a left foot to knock it over. It toppled to the ground. Blue used her knife to dig into its body and hang on as they fell.
When the monster hit the floor its center landed within SJ’s pool of flames. As it caught fire, Blue quickly removed her knife. She hopped off just before the entire middle log was fully engulfed.
The rest of us chopped off the monster’s limbs, separating them from the rest of the body before they got caught in the flames too. Those logs rolled away toward the stream—safe from spreading any forest fires—while the creature’s enchanted heart burnt to a crisp.
That obstacle out of the way, we moved forward again without another word.
A couple more hours went by and soon it started to get dark. The sun must have gone down somewhere beyond the Forbidden Forest’s walls, and our limited sky was now ushering in the beginning of nightfall.
As twilight draped over the trees, the eerie atmosphere began to escalate. The eyes of owls began to spontaneously appear in the branches overhead. I was relatively sure that some of the vines drooping from the trees were moving. And the gossamer spider webs hanging between them seemed to be growing when we weren’t looking.
All of a sudden I heard a noise coming from a nearby bush. Instinctively I drew my wand from my satchel. “Did you guys hear that?” I asked.
“Relax, Crisa,” Blue said, coming to stand next to me. “It’s probably just a rabbit or something.”
Then I heard a similar rustling coming from the bush next to my friend’s foot. “Blue . . .”
A chipmunk with a goofy face popped out of the bush.
“See,” Blue said calmly. “The Forbidden Forest feels creepier at night, but you can’t let it get to you. It’s all in your—”
Shield.
While Blue had been lecturing me, I’d seen the chipmunk’s eyes flash bright red and his body puff up. I’d managed to morph my wand into a shield just in time to protect us from the sizeable spurt of fire that burst from his mouth like a flame-thrower.
“Go! Go! Go!” Blue and I yelled to the others once the flames subsided.
Alas, the warning came too late. Every bush in the area had begun to rustle. And in a matter of seconds, dozens of the adorable yet terrifying pyromaniacs had emerged. They charged toward us, ejecting fire from their tiny guts and herding us together.
SJ tried to go for a potions attack, but in the darkness and chaos she rammed into Jason and dropped her slingshot. The left flank of chipmunks cut her off before she could retrieve it. Meanwhile, the rest of us quickly discovered that although we had weapons, none of them would keep us from getting flame-broiled by these little monsters. We were now surrounded, and my shield wasn’t going to protect us all.
Oh, dang. Their eyes are starting to glow. Maybe if I—
BAM!
One of the chipmunks was curtly nailed in the back of the head with an acorn—knocking him unconscious on the spot.
What in the world?
Out of the trees suddenly came a full-on assault of acorns. They barreled forward in a constant and powerful stream, pelting the demon chipmunks with merciless precision. The woodland creatures began to scurry in panic—many getting hit over and over again by the unexpected attack. It wasn’t long before they’d all either scampered away or been knocked out by the ambush.
When the crazy had passed and everything had returned to silence, I squinted through the night to try and pinpoint the source of the offensive. A figure emerged from the shadows—measuring at about four feet with blue overalls, brown eyes, and a curly pink tail.
“Name’s Chauncey,” said the talking pig, holstering the massive acorn-firing mechanism to his back like a crossbow. “And we’d better get out of here before the sonic frogs find you.”
Being led through a forest by a talking pig was nothing to write home about; as far as tour guides went, he was pretty lackluster.
He barely said two words to us the whole way. The fully loaded acorn-shooting machine that he had holstered to his back made more noise than he did.
Still, the five of us followed him without objection. We were just relieved to have been found by someone who knew his way around the Forbidden Forest and who didn’t want to kill us like half the other things living here did.
Eventually Chauncey took us through a tunnel made of stone, stucco, and thick tree roots. When we emerged we were in a clearing with a brick house at the center.
“A brick house . . .” Blue thought out loud, startling us.
Realization hit her and she smiled at her own brilliance, pointing at Chauncey incredulously. “You’re one of the Three Little Pigs, aren’t you?”
We recognized, of course, she had to be right. Talking pigs weren’t exactly common, and the ones from the aforementioned fairytale were said to live in this very forest.
Chauncey didn’t respond to the accusation. He simply grunted as if annoyed by his minor celebrity status and then shouldered on toward the house.
It was a small dwelling. Understandably so given that the owner stood only four feet tall on his hind legs. We managed to fit inside just fine, but Jason and Daniel did have to stoop to fit through the door.
We entered into a rustic living room, the sole source of light emanating from an old, brick and mortar fireplace. It filled the space with warmth that was a nice break from the cold outside.
Chauncey unhooked the strap of his acorn-launcher and set it on the floor before leaving the room. In awkward silence we sat down on the corduroy couch and the three wooden chairs surrounding the fireplace as we waited for him to return.
Blue and I originally chose two of the chairs as our seats. However, when we sat down we discovered that they were covered in dust and other filth, so we opted to join the boys on the couch instead.
It was not comfortable. And it smelled like turnips and mothballs. I managed to distract myself from the smell by looking around the room.
The coffee table held a bowl of mushrooms, some haphazardly drawn blueprints, several dirty mugs, and copies of assorted magazines—everything from Enchanted Architect Monthly to Tournaments Illustrated. Three caps and checkered scarves hung on coat hooks next to the door beside a calendar featuring various towers from Century City. A floor mat made of straw was lying in the entryway. And there was a budding tomato plant hanging in the windowsill.
As my eyes continued to wander the room, I came to notice the painting residing above the fireplace. It was of Chauncey and his two brothers. They were standing in front of the brick house we presently sat in and were holding shovels like proud construction workers. I would have considered it a nice pig family portrait had it not been for the large rip marks I saw going across it—as if someone had torn the image apart and then put it back together in remorse.
Chauncey reappeared in the doorway holding a steaming cup of coffee. Immediately upon entering he glared at SJ, who was sitting in the third wooden chair, which apparently hadn’t been dusty like the others.
“You’re in my seat,” he said flatly.
SJ hastily got up and apologized. She came to join us on the couch. When she realized the only available space was beside me, we exchanged an unsettling look. I moved out of the way so she could sit, choosing to stand rather than endure the tension of her gaze and close proximity.
“So,” Chauncey said as he eyed our interaction and settled into his chair, “what kind of crazy mission are the five of you on?”
“Who said we were on a crazy mission?” Blue asked defensively.
Chauncey shook his head. “Spare me. Only a person with a death wish or a crazy mission sets foot in this forest. Less than a hoof full of people have ever made it out alive, you know. So tell me, what’s your business here?”
There was a pause, but after a beat SJ let out a small exhale and looked Chauncey in the eye. “We seek the Valley of Edible Enchantments,” she responded.
“Obviously,” Chauncey scoffed. He took another swig from his cup then set it down on the table beside its dirty counterparts. “Like I said, people that come into this forest come because they have crazy missions, and they always need some sort of magical doodah from the Valley to accomplish them. So I’ll ask one more time, what are you kids here for—invisibility bread, truth jerky, magic beans maybe?”
The five of us glanced at one another, unsure of how much information to divulge.
“We’re searching for something lost beneath the sea . . .” I finally replied on behalf of our group. “In order to go after it, we need a way to breathe underwater and we figured the Valley is the best place to find something that will let us.”
SJ gave me a sad look. “Really? Him you trust?”
The others seemed confused by her comment, but Chauncey changed the subject before any of them could inquire what she’d meant.
“Well then,” he huffed, “I’ll tell you what I’ve told all the others that I’ve found wandering through the Forbidden Forest. Turn back now if you know what’s good for you. Don’t, and the wolves alone will pick you off like sitting ducks.”
“We can handle wolves. I assure you,” Blue said as she lifted the hem of her cloak and proudly patted the holster her knife was stored in.
“These are no ordinary wolves,” Chauncey warned. “One of them blew both my brothers’ homes down with a single huff and puff combo.”
Blue let out a slight, patronizing snort. “I’m sorry, but didn’t your brothers build their houses out of hay and sticks?”
“Do you have the lung capacity to blow down an entire house made of sticks with one exhale?” Chauncey asked.
“No,” she admitted.
“Then don’t knock what you don’t know. These wolves are like nothing you’ve ever seen. If they find you, they will kill you. That is, if the witch in the Valley doesn’t rip you apart first.”
This caught Blue’s attention. She, like the rest of us, had been under the impression that the witch who once guarded the Valley of Edible Enchantments was already dead. There was a whole book about it.
After being lost in the Forbidden Forest for several days, protagonists Hansel and Gretel had ventured into one of the Valley’s cottages and been trapped inside by the witch that resided there. Luckily, when the witch had tried to cook them alive for trespassing, they’d pushed her into her own oven and—bing, bam, boom—the wicked old witch was baked to a crisp and the Valley was freed from her terror forever.
Or, according to Chauncey, apparently not.
In hindsight, I supposed we could have put together some of what Chauncey went on to tell us for ourselves. My godmother Emma had already explained that magic could not be killed or destroyed; it could only change forms or change hands. So when Hansel and Gretel’s witch had perished, her powers passed into something or (in this case) someone else. And that person had become the Valley’s new witch as a result.
Chauncey confirmed this moments later, telling us of the horrible witch that now lived in the Valley and served as its caretaker.
“I’ve never seen her,” he continued. “But she’s supposed to be a real piece of work. At least the witch before her used to let a few people go with their lives and what they came for. This one, well, let’s just say she’s not too fond of trespassers unless they can offer her something in return.”
“Offer her something? Like what?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine,” Chauncey replied.
“Oh, come on,” Blue pressed. “You’ve lived here for years and you have no idea what she’s after?”
“Sorry, kid, but I don’t exactly invite the witch over for Sunday brunch. I’ve never met her, and I don’t intend to. But I’ll tell you what I will do,” Chauncey continued. “I’m gonna help you kids out another way. Tomorrow I’ll make you a map that’ll allow you to find your way to and from the Valley without wandering through any more hot zones for dangerous Forbidden Forest activity.”
