“No!” echoed a distant cry.

Dan and Mark shook awake, disturbing the pile of ash that remained of their campfire. Mark coughed as some of the dry burnt particles irritated his throat. He shimmied over to a wide tree trunk, rested his back along it, and pulled out his journal from his pack.

Dan stood up like an attentive guard and slung on his pack, staring out toward where he thought he heard the sound. He kept his voice low. “That sounded like it came from the south.”

Mark’s eyes were slightly red as he wrote a few lines into his journal, trying to document everything like a journalist. “What was that?”

Dan was quiet as a distant shuffling of leaves became the only sound heard in the forest.

“What is –?”

Dan turned and pounced on his friend, holding his hand over Mark’s snout as if he was closing a large book. “Shut up.”

They looked out to the west, scanning the distant trees. About forty yards over and just loud enough to hear, was a steady rustling of leaves and a quivering hiss. What the …. ? A shifting shadow the size of a train casually grazed across the forest floor and then disappeared into the dark heart of the woods. Dan spun himself around, releasing his hold on his friend. “Mark, what ancient monsters do you know that are huge snake lookin’ things?”

Mark shook his head. His glassy, bloodshot eyes starting to dry up and return to a healthy white. “Snakes? … umm there are Grosserps or Manqvipers which have very sharp fangs with deadly venom inside that can kill even the largest of people with one bite, but the last known sighting of one was like three hundred years ago.”

Dan shook his head. “Well, whatever that thing was, it was big enough to tear down my house.”

Mark reached for his pack, slipped his journal back inside and slowly stood up. He was still adjusting to the sunlight and dizziness in his head. A few distant shouts and cries came from the south again. “What do you think those are?”

Dan swiveled his gaze and tried to see behind the clustered stalks and leaves. “The cops maybe.”

“Cops?! Maybe we can go and meet up with them.” Mark excitedly walked to the south, but he was bumped backward.

Dan had his arm outstretched in Mark’s way as an unbreakable barrier. For Mark, anything seemed to work to put him in line, but anyone else would definitely have broken it or shoved it out of the way. “We can’t go down there, remember? … think of the letter. Think of what it will do if we try to talk to them.”

Mark knew his friend was right. He hated it. The feeling of helplessness, loss of hope. He needed some sign that they would make it out okay. That he would find his parents again and hopefully receive an approving nod from his dad, but instead of fighting his friend, he shrunk backwards, hunching his back to nearly the same height as Dan. He silently nodded and adjusted the strap on his pack. He tended to fidget a lot when Dan would bark orders.

Dan brought his gaze up north. “Well, the way I see it, the big snake thing is going the opposite direction from us, so let’s follow the river north and see where that leads us.”

Mark kept his head low and nodded. He trudged his feet for miles behind Dan as they passed hillside and valley, each filled with fascinating vegetation and wildlife. By late afternoon, they reached a small grove of apple trees and a clearing the size of their school’s auditorium even with an unnatural square like shape.

Mark took off his pack and snatched an apple right off the branch. “Boy, don’t you look delicious.”

Dan scanned the area, utilizing the skills he had learned from his father. Something kept him on edge.

Mark bit into a green apple and sat down, reveling in the delicious and sweet taste. “Holy Kolsnout! This is amazing. I was getting sick of having crackers.”

Dan studied the formation of the trees and its proximity to the river. The intricate rows of the trees and the great shape that the apples were in considering they were dwarfed by the thick stalks that placed him in almost an eternal shade. “This doesn’t make sense.”

Mark took another satisfied bite as he relaxed on the ground.

Dan paced by the edges of the grove and furrowed his brow at an unlikely discovery. Imbedded into the center of a large stone was one of the apple trees. It didn’t seem to have broken the stone with the expanding pressure of its roots or even the girth of its trunk. It was cemented within the rock as if it was put there by ….

Mark took a few more satisfied bites and hummed the tune to one of his favorite Affirmative Jackal songs. He was near the chorus when his apple was knocked right out of his hand and landed ten feet off to the side. “What the hell?” Mark’s warm and pleasant mood was immediately interrupted.

“Don’t eat them,” Dan said nearly out of breath.

Mark shrugged his shoulders. “Why?”
“Because you don’t know what’s in them.”

Mark tilted his head and jokingly sighed. “So … what were they made with?”

“I don’t know. Just not … naturally.”

Mark wiped his hands on his hand me down jeans and stood up tall. His face relaxed a bit more than usual and he held a soft gaze. “What do you think of flowers?”

Dan shook his head. “What?”

“You know …. flowers … shiny … glowing.” Mark teetered from side to side. His voice trailing off.
A distant caw echoed off the trees. Dan snapped his head as he walked in circles, scanning the surrounding area. The air was tense like the moment before a lion is about to pounce on its dinner.

“Shiny … glowing …..” Mark stopped talking and fell to the ground, resting his head on a soft dirt patch.

Dan rushed to his friend’s side. “Mark? ….. MARK?!”

Mark was out like a light, breathing deeply into a sweet sleep. His jaw wide open, exposing his sawblade rows of teeth.

Dan picked an apple off one of the trees, took a sniff, and threw it on the ground. A bitter aftertaste filled his mouth. Someone drugged the apples! Who would do that? Dan put up his guard and spotted a long branch on the ground. He fashioned a mini spear out of it and waited. He couldn’t leave Mark sleeping on the ground, unguarded. Besides he needed Mark. His intelligence and intuition. He always admired Mark’s wits and smarts. Mark, on the other hand, didn’t have much to think about, as he lied unconscious on the ground. Dan kept an eye on him throughout the day, taking a break here or there to take out a snack from his pack. The food inside was starting to go bad and soon he was going to need to toss it out. His stomach tightened and squirmed as the drugged apples appeared more delicious by the hour.

Another caw echoed along the trees. He snapped his head up toward the canopy. His hand ready to launch the spear up into the branches, but he didn’t know what he was doing. His family were the furthest thing from hunters. Every meal was pre-packaged, neatly delivered, and cooked to perfection by the Siltmoor staff. Dan didn’t have to lift a finger. Now, he was guarding his drugged-up friend with a stick in the middle of a forsaken forest with nothing safe to eat in sight and possibly a predator waiting behind a few trees. Hours passed with no sign of any dangers until it was nearly dark.

Mark shifted on the ground. His breathing still deep and tranquil.

It was nice to see a sign that Mark was alive. Dan was able to be at ease, but sadly only for a moment. His hunger pestered him like his attention seeking, little brother and he knew that he couldn’t ignore it. Once the sun was down the Flaretoms would certainly be out. He knelt, keeping his small spear close to his chest, only a foot away from Mark. The air was tense and heavy as if he was standing at the bottom of a deep bog in Rockliffe Marsh. Dan started when a resonating howl that was deep and low like a trombone filled the air.

What was that? Dan thought.

At that moment, he would give anything to hear Mark make one of his astute observations. Oh, that’s a bugle horn from the fifth century or that’s the mating call of some obscure animal. Mark’s voice echoed within his mind as he tried to come up with some way of surviving by the grove. Although it used to annoy him, it started to comfort him. He regained his focus and looked back at the river. Its consistent, confident current that tore through the ground toward its destination. One thing did start to bother Dan as he studied the river. The current was going uphill not downhill. Anyone with common sense knew a river mostly travels downhill, but this one was unique.

Crick! Crack! A few twigs snapped out in the distance. Dan grasped his spear and stood up, hugging the side of a tree. The forest floor took on a shade of gray as the sun set behind the canopy. It was much harder to see in the dark.

“Hello?” came a faint voice. “Anyone there?” It was timid and friendly.

Dan didn’t know how to respond. There someone else out in the woods? Plus they are friendly? Dan just remained silent shifting over behind the tree where he thought the voice couldn’t find him.

“I heard some screams coming from out here and I was just checking to see if everyone was okay.”

Dan slapped his hand on his stomach as it grumbled for food.

The noise was loud enough to pique the ears of the voice as it made a few steps closer to Dan. They stopped only a few yards from the tree. “Oh my word, I hope no one ate from the grove.”

“Why?” Dan shouted.

The ground shifted a few yards away as the voice must have been startled by Dan’s entry. It took a few moments to respond. “Are you alright? Did you eat from the grove?”

“No, but what’s wrong with the apples?”

The voice took a few more steps.

“That’s good enough right there.” Dan’s heart was racing. He wasn’t trained to fight, but something caught his eye that helped him relax. It was a green, bulbous hand with long soft fingers. The webbing between was a light yellow and some wrinkles on them told Dan that this was an old fellow, but at least it was an Amphian.

“I mean you no harm,” the voice said innocently.

“Who are you?”

“Davinus Fervander or my students used to call me Mr. Vander. I guess it was easier to say.” The voice giggled.

Dan relaxed a bit more at the word, “students”. This guy was a teacher?

“Where are you from? … I grew up here out in the forest but I used to live in a little town called Swiftbog.”

Dan had heard of that town. Only a few kids from his school came from Swiftbog and they were mostly nice, but a little eccentric since Swiftbog was isolated from everywhere else. They were mostly farmers and tractor pullers. “Ok, Mr. Vander. Don’t you know it’s illegal to be out here.”

Mr. Vander sighed, Dan could tell this must have been a question he was asked a lot. “I know about the Neutrality Accords at the end of the war. In those accords, there was a clause that allowed my family to keep their property here in the forest and a bit of land around it.”

“That sounds made up.”

Mr. Vander chuckled. “I guess it does, doesn’t it? … But I’m sure you learned about it in school?”

Dan couldn’t remember anything from history class about the Neutrality Accords. It was definitely the year he would steal a moment to look at Mary. Any specific detail like a specific clause that allowed a certain family to live in the forest could have been lost as he stood by the window with an already sharpened pencil. “I don’t remember.”

“Ach, I guess you wouldn’t remember much, who did you have for history?”
“Ms. Kopperel.”

“Oh, I see.” Dan pictured a satisfied head nodding from the other side of the tree. “Yes, she wasn’t one to look into fine details, but boy did she know how to garden. She used to bring in the best carrot cakes sometimes.”

“Where did you teach?”

“Rockliffe elementary.”

Dan’s trust started to grow a bit more, but he was still on edge. Mark rustled by his feet. Dan knelt down when he noticed a few rashes on Mark’s face since they have been sitting there. It felt odd that Mr. Vander mentioned his elementary school. Rockliffe Elementary wasn’t anything to write home about. It was an old school building that was mostly falling apart. Some of the windows were broken and out of repair. Dan couldn’t wait to get out of there and into the new middle school building down the road. He didn’t remember a Mr. Vander or Mr. Fervander, though. He must have been there before Dan and Mark arrived.
“I don’t mean you any harm. Why don’t you come down to my cottage. It isn’t far from here.” Dan saw the green hand raise up in a surrendering gesture. “Please let me help. You must be famished and I have plenty of warm cooked food and a few extra beds to help you with tonight’s sleep … I would feel terrible to leave you out here.”

Dan couldn’t think of a good reason to stay out in the dark with the Flaretoms lurking around him. He knew he would be one of their next meals and he needed to be prepared for the worst. He slowly revealed his head from behind the tree and saw a thin, awkwardly hunched over toad who stared into his eyes through circular framed glasses. He held a relaxed and confident smile. “Nice to meet you …. ‘

“Dan, my name is Dan.” It felt odd and nerve-wracking to state his name to him.
“Well Dan, my name Is Davinus.”

“My friend needs your help.”

Mr. Vander walked around the tree and saw Mark nearly comatose on the forest floor. “Did he eat one of the apples?”

Dan nodded. “Yep, went right for it without thinking.”

The look on Mr. Vander’s face frightened Dan. He looked like he was staring at a corpse. He knelt beside Mark and examined his face and eyes. He then hurriedly picked up Mark by his shoulders and asked Dan to help support him. They each took an arm and held Mark upright. His relaxed head swung back and forth with their movements. “Thank you, it’s just about a mile down this way.

“A mile?”

“If we hurry I can get some help to your friend. He is already too far gone at this point to wake him.”

Dan picked up the pace, feeling the height difference between himself and the shorter Mr. Vander. “Too far gone?”

Mr. Vander shook his head. “I am not sure how much I can do for him, but those apples are incredibly powerful with dark magic. To most mortal men, it would kill them instantly.”

Dan was uncomfortably quiet as his stomach tied in a million knots. He might lose his friend after all and the last thing he did was smack an apple out of his hand and yelled at him. He pushed further and further his stomach grumbling in intensifying waves. He better save Mark or I don’t know what I’ll do. The sun almost had hidden behind the western canopy towards Edora as they walked the opposite way. They mostly followed the river for the better part of a mile until he heard a distant, ambient sound like the crushing of rocks. He peered over from behind a few trees and saw a quaint little cottage and waterwheel.

Mr. Vander stopped once they were within twenty yards of it. “Welcome to Fengrove Cottage. The kindly home of the Fervander family.”

Dan stopped and took it in for a moment. The flower beds that wrapped around the cottage could have used some work with only a few dull colored flowers left alive, but the rest of the cottage looked mostly in good shape. It had light tan paneling, a few dusty windows, and a wide dark brown door. Rotating from behind the roof was a large waterwheel that thrummed and creaked along a wooden axle. Dan was incredibly happy to see something that resembled a home. His arm was getting sore and his shoulder was going numb where Mark’s arm was wrapped around him.

Mr. Vander led him to the door, opened it with one hand and led them into a living room connected to a small kitchen area. They walked across the room and plopped Mark onto an old, weathered blue couch.

“Stay here,” Mr. Vander said so lightly Dan almost didn’t hear him.

Dan turned away from a musty smell that rose from the blue, dusty fibers. He took a few steps back and looked at his friend from a safe distance. Mark seemed to be fine, but Vander was gone. Dan’s stomach clenched up. His eyes frantically darting around the room. The room was completely empty. He twitched backwards when a bottle fell to the floor only a few yards away. The sound came from a dark, narrow hallway that seemed to reach the back of the cottage near the waterwheel. Dan couldn’t see far into the hall, but knew if he had a bit more sunlight through the windows he would see the end.

“Mr. Vander?”

Dan twitched when a few more bottles plunked onto the floor, but walked into the hall. He noticed a faint glow coming from underneath a door along the right side of the hallway.

“Mr. Vander, Mark doesn’t seem to be doing well.”

Crash! A pile of glass bottles struck the floor and rolled around the room, most of it muffled from behind the door. “Hang in there, make sure he feels comfortable. Let me know if he starts to foam from the mouth,” Vander called out from the other side of the door.

Dan noticed a silhouette blocking the light from underneath the door, frantically moving back and forth. He reached out his hand and turned the handle. Warm candlelight flooded the hall, making Dan squint his eyes. Once they adjusted, he saw a cluttered office with a wide wooden desk by the far wall that was lined in books. Most of them tattered and worn from overuse.

Mr. Vander was rummaging around from behind the desk and opened a few books, placing one next to the other. He studied them for something, hopefully a cure. Dan could only stand and watch, but he was growing impatient. “So did you find something?”

Vander looked up at Dan. He smiled like a parent hiding an unpleasant truth from their child. “Yes, I did. We can stabilize him for now, but I can’t do much else unless I go downstairs into my father’s old study.”

“Then let’s go.”

Vander sighed and closed one of the books. “It’s not that simple. My father’s door is locked.”

“So let’s break it down.”

“It’s locked with a magical enchantment that can be only broken with a certain key and after my father died, I haven’t been able to find it.”

“What?”

Vander looked down at one of the remaining open books and took note of what it said on one of the pages. He then speedily spun around to a shelf with many bottled up herbs and other plants, tapped the glass with his fingers as he searched the labels, and then pulled one off the shelf. Behind the glass was a yellow and blue flower.

Dan had seen some in one of the Siltmoor’s many gardens. “A Rufushollow?”

Vander smiled. “You know what it is. Good. Let’s hurry back to your friend.”

Dan noticed that Vander had a few more bottles under his left arm and a book in his right hand. He got a glimpse of the title. Remedies for the Uncommon –

The rest was covered by Vander’s bulbous fingers, but it seemed to be the right piece of knowledge to help them. Vander rested the bottles on the coffee table beside the couch and ran over to his kitchen and returned with a wooden bowl, spoon and a glass filled with water.

“Ok, Dan. If you can please gently put your friend on his side and raise his head a little.”

Dan did as he was asked as Vander started to open the bottle of the Rufushollow and delicately pulled off the yellow petals, leaving a bare blue flower in the bottle. He put the petals in the bowl and then mixed in a few other plants from the bottles that were under his arm and finally added water. He crushed them all with his spoon and stirred them in the water.

Dan stole a glance of the bowl and noticed that the petals had dissolved, turning the water into an orange hue. It was odd how all the plants could have dissolved in something simple as water. He watched as Vander held it up to the corner of Mark’s mouth and let the concoction slipped in between a few of his teeth.

“Dan can you hold his head up.”

Dan stood behind the armrest of the couch, holding his friend’s head as to make sure the concoction went down his throat. Almost instantaneously Mark started to cough. At first they were light, but then became guttural and deep until Mark coughed up a chunk of apple. It traveled across the room and hit the wall. Vander ran over to it and stomped on it with his foot. Mark then returned to a deep sleep. Dan relaxed his hold on his friend’s head as he noticed that the rashes had started to disappear.

“What did you give him?”

“It was something I remembered from one of my books on poisons. It will keep him stable for a little while, but the poison is already running through his veins. I have enough to keep him stable for a few days, but after that I’m sorry until I can get into my father’s study I can’t do anything.”

Dan let go of Mark’s head and walked over to him. “So how do we get in?”

Vander shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said with a key.”

Dan shook his head. “We can break it down.”

Vander plopped down on a chair opposite the couch in defeat. “I’ve tried everything I know Dan to open that door, but it won’t open.”

“Your father didn’t tell you where he kept it?”

Vander shook his head. “He died before he could tell me.”
Dan looked away, uncomfortable to take on an aggressive stance with Vander. I took a breath and continued in a less urgent voice. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I can’t just leave my friend to die here. Our parents were taken by a warlock and you are the only person in here not trying to kill us.”

“Your parents were taken? … I’m so sorry.” Vander looked with concern.

Dan nodded. “I don’t know why they were taken, but we were told to go inside the forest to save them.”

“Well, I will do what I can to help. I’ve lived out here for far too long. I’ve always dreamed of moving back to Swiftbog and getting a nice little plot over there.”

“Why haven’t you moved already?”

“Time just seemed to pass by. Ten years I’ve been here. I retired young, had no family, and decided to move back here. Maybe find some sort of peace, but all I found were memories I’d rather forget.” He stopped himself. “But I shouldn’t be telling you these things. You should be tired.” He smiled. “I’ll show you the guest room.”

“Guest room?”

Vander was already walking toward the hallway, nodding his head. “Yes, in the past ten years I have been here, there have been quite a few visitors.” He raised his hands excitedly. “Thrill seekers trying to catch a glimpse of a major battlefield or say they walked in the lawless land between Amphius and Mammalia. I have a guest register somewhere. They were mostly kind people and mostly weird too.” He chuckled at the last bit. “But I have to admit it was nice to see a few friendly faces. It can certainly get boring out here in the woods.” He stopped in front of a white door with an odd-looking door handle. The knob was shaped like a cat, casually lying on top of a full moon. The handle, that extended about half a foot from the knob, was molded to look like the cat’s tail. It was an exceptional piece of metalwork that Dan couldn’t even fathom creating himself and mostly stood out from the generic and standard furniture in the rest of the cottage.

Vander noticed Dan staring at the door handle. “Very beautiful isn’t it.”

Dan nodded and took a step back.

“It was a gift that my family received long ago. I believe it was my great-great-great grandfather or my great-great-great-great grandfather, but in either case he saved the life of a high nobleman and they had the door knobs crafted in his honor. My father always would tell me the story of Talvin Fervander on my birthday. It was one of my favorites.”

Dan nodded and was silent. He had gotten used to listening to Mark yapping off about some historical figure or event, but this time he felt like he had to owe Vander something. Mark could have been dead without him if he didn’t find them. Dan knew he owed a lot to Vander. He did not like owing anyone anything. The sooner the debt was paid the better.

“Well, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in my study.” And just like that Vander disappeared to the many long, dark shadows that were cast in Fengrove Cottage.

Dan nodded and closed the door behind him. He was finally on his own and didn’t know what to do. He walked over to the single window in the room. The calm chirps of the grasshoppers and the steady current of the river put Dan at ease. He stared out and said to himself, “ I hope you can get better Mark. And if you don’t I will find out who poisoned you. Like I mean, Who the hell grows poisonous apples in the middle of the forest. Even one of the trees was cemented into the ground liked a street light. It’s insane, Mark.” A lot of that stuff wasn’t adding up. He unpacked and threw out a few bad food items that were getting worse by the hour, and then jumped under the sheets of one of the twin beds that were on opposite sides of the window. Dan took the left one and cozied inside feeling the warmth of the blankets and the clousd like mattress carry him away to a deep slumber.

Next Chapter: 9 - Six instead of Seven