Chapter Thirteen
King Abaddon
The pursuers gave up the chase as soon as the boys plunged into the forest. But taunts followed: “Ha! You won’t last long in there!” “Our job is done, that’s for sure!”
Andy and Alden stumbled behind a thick tree trunk and collapsed, chests heaving.
“You know why they let us go, don’t you?” Alden panted.
Andy nodded, unable to speak. His stomach tied itself in a knot.
The edges of the forest were light with the morning sun. Even though no fog could penetrate the thick foliage, the dense canopy made it dark and the boys couldn’t see far. As their eyes adjusted, they scanned the area. An eerie stillness blanketed the thick growth. Only a brave chirp or the hum of a flying insect disturbed the solitude. Andy swallowed.
Okay, I’m afraid. I can let it grip me, or…
Andy cleared his throat, held Methuselah up, and motioned for his compatriot to follow.
“Are you sure?” Alden squeaked.
“No, but we can’t go back that way.”
Alden let out a whimper.
The forest smelled musty, like wet towels after they’ve been sitting in a heap for several days (not that Andy would know anything about that). Dry, fallen leaves crunched under their feet as they stumbled through the dense undergrowth.
Something skittered where Andy was about to step and he jumped. He grabbed for Alden. When nothing leapt at him they continued on, slowly, cautiously. Every stray noise sent chilled fingers up and down Andy’s back.
Methuselah’s light only penetrated a short distance. Andy hunched over and kept scanning, desperately wishing he had X-ray vision or at least night vision goggles.
A dangling vine brushed the side of Alden’s head and forced out a yelp.
“Shhh.”
They passed several hulking tree trunks laced together by thick vines that wove a tapestry through the wood. Stumpy ferns that rose to Andy’s waist fought for purchase between bushes that had grown above his head.
At one point they found themselves surrounded by a particularly thick outgrowth that prevented their passage. Andy raised Methuselah. He was about to strike when Alden cautioned, “No! Don’t!” The Cartesian pointed and took hurried steps away from the growth as it began to move.
Andy followed on his heels as a thick, variegated green coil unfolded itself and a diamond-headed snake flicked its tongue at them. The instant its belly reached the floor the boys yipped and took off. They ran around trees, ducked under vines, and hurdled rotted branches. A mammoth fallen tree trunk lying in the path finally brought them up short.
“Hey, I just realized something,” Andy panted.
“What’s that?”
“The plants haven’t tried to attack us. I thought you said people believe they’ll eat you.”
“Yeah, that’s the story. Or a giant’ll grab you.”
“Hello!” Andy yelled. “We’re here! Come and get us!”
“Shhh! Stop that!”
Alden hunched over, ears perked, while Andy held Methuselah up, waiting, daring. Several minutes passed but nothing happened.
Alden’s stomach gave a loud rumble. “Sorry,” he whispered as Andy glanced at him.
“I think the rumors are wrong. This is just a huge forest of mammoth trees. Nothing more.”
“I don’t know…the rumors have to be based on something.”
“No idea, but I think we’re good. Now come on, we need to find food,” declared Andy. “Are any of these plants safe to eat?”
“They don’t look familiar. They’re a lot bigger than anything I’ve ever seen—and more brightly colored, too.”
They stumbled into a huge blackberry bush with leaves the size of Frisbees and berries as big as softballs.
“Wow!” the two breathed in unison.
Andy retracted Methuselah’s blade and tucked the hilt safely in the pouch. He reached up to pick a huge berry.
“I don’t know if the berries are safe to eat.”
“Well, I’m starving!” Andy reached up, tugged a blackberry loose from the branch, and took a bite. It was delicious—juicy and sweet with a hint of tartness. The juices cascaded over his face and down his front. He took another bite and another.
Alden’s stomach gave a loud rumble and he reached up and started wrestling a second berry loose. As Andy took another bite, one of the bush’s tentacles wrapped around Alden’s foot.
“Alden! The bush is alive!”
The words had barely escaped Andy’s mouth when the plant grabbed Andy’s arms and began dragging him. Squirming, kicking, and screaming, the boys fought against their bonds.
After a few yards, the blackberry bush tossed the boys at another thorn-covered plant, which in turn tossed them at a pricker bush. The handoffs continued for what seemed like an eternity. Sometimes they were thrown at a tree or shrub without spikes, but most times the barbs of the vegetation dug deep into their skin. Within minutes, nearly every inch of their bodies was scratched or bleeding.
Just when Andy thought he could stand it no longer, a tree whose leaves looked like poison ivy threw them into a clearing where three giants played cards at a huge wooden picnic table. One giant looked up from his hand of cards and smiled.
“Hey Hank, looks like our breakfast just dropped in.”
“Yeah, Zank, looks like nice tasty morsels. Berry flavored. But there’s not much meat on ’em,” he chuckled with a dumb-sounding laugh. He reached down and scratched his butt through ragged leggings.
“Hey Tank, take our breakfast to Blank to prepare,” ordered Zank. At this, the largest of the giants stood, upsetting his stool. He lumbered over to Andy and Alden and picked them up by the scruff of their necks. The boys grabbed at the tops of their tunics, trying desperately to raise their necks above the strangling fabric as they gasped for breath.
Tank lugged them kicking toward an enormous wood structure, through an open door, and into a large kitchen where a giantess labored over an immense hearth. She wore a white apron over a yellow and green plaid dress. Her white bonnet looked like a large muffin perched atop her round head. The fire was roaring. Blank looked up and frowned. “Breakfast is already set, Tank. I’ll cook ’em up for lunch later. Hang them over there for now.”
Tank dutifully obeyed, suspending Andy and Alden by the backs of their tunics on hooks near an open window before heading back to his card game. The boys continued struggling for air as the fabric cut into their necks. Blank finished her preparations, rang a loud bell, and moved her provisions outside to the picnic table. As soon as Blank disappeared, Andy gasped, “Put…your arms…up…and drop.”
The two landed on the floor with a thud. The pouch around Andy’s neck swung and smacked him in the head as he landed. “Oh,” he moaned, rubbing the point of impact as he drank in great gulps of air.
“That was close,” croaked Alden, gently scratching his arm where the poison ivy had hugged him. Andy started to scratch as well.
They watched several more giants emerge from the cabins—old grandpa giants walking with canes and baby giants sucking on their fingers, teenage giants talking back to the adults and middle age giants looking dumpy and slow. Alden counted 64 in all.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here while they’re eating,” whispered Andy. The door to the kitchen stood directly in line with the gathering. They inched toward freedom.
Alden spied a pot of porridge simmering on the hearth and his stomach gave a loud grumble. “Psst! Andy.” He pointed.
While it was about the worst thing either of them had ever tasted—Wallpaper paste? Andy wondered—it filled their hungry bellies. Several minutes later, Andy peered out the doorway to make sure all the giants were still eating. The coast was clear. They darted out the door and around to the side of the cabin. They waited in nervous anticipation for the sound of giant footsteps in pursuit, but none came.
Even though their bodies ached from the beating they had received by th
e vegetation, Alden gave Andy a thumbs-up and a big smile. Both boys were bleeding from various wounds and itching from poison ivy. Their necks burned where their tunics had cut into their skin.
“If we don’t pick any fruit, I think we’ll be okay,” Andy whispered as the giants’ carryings-on grew distant.
They crept along in the dim light, but nothing grabbed for them. The thick undergrowth was disorienting. After wandering for quite some time, neither knew which way they were going. To Andy it felt as though they walked in circles.
Their teeth chattered from the unrelenting dampness on bare skin, and they hugged themselves to try and retain even the smallest warmth. Then their stomachs started complaining once more. With the darkness, they couldn’t tell what time it was.
“Now I understand why the legend says anyone who enters the Forest of Giants is never seen or heard from again,” said Alden, taking off a sandal and shaking stones out. “I wish we knew which way to go to get out.”
Andy opened his pouch and pulled out Methuselah. Quick as lightning, the blade extended from the hilt. Andy held it up straight, but the blade instantly tipped to the side. He corrected it, straightening its position, but again it tipped to the side.
“That’s weird,” Alden remarked.
“This sword does all sorts of things regular ones don’t. Maybe it’s trying to point us out of the forest,” Andy hoped. “What have we got to lose? Come on.”
Andy held Methuselah in front of him with both hands, like a water dowser he had seen on a TV documentary. They followed wherever the tip of the sword directed, eventually stumbling upon a clearing with a quaint little cottage. Staying well hidden, they crouched in the undergrowth and peered out to see if anyone came or went. The house had a small, well-maintained garden with abundant tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, peas, vegetables of all varieties.
After waiting several minutes, a hunched old lady came out the back door with a wicker basket over her arm and a pair of shears in her hand. She wore a freshly pressed bright blue apron over a crisp yellow dress. Her gray hair was neatly done up in a bun, and silver-rimmed glasses perched halfway down her nose. She headed to the garden and snipped some tomatoes and beans, putting them into her basket. Then she added a few peas to the mix and pulled a few weeds. But instead of returning to the house, she walked straight toward where the boys hid, stopping just feet in front of them. “You’ll have to do better than that to hide from Anta Emm,” she declared. “Come inside. Let me get you both fixed up and cook you a proper meal. Goodness, you’ll catch cold if you don’t get some proper clothes on.”
Andy and Alden stared at each other. That name sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before? They slowly emerged from the underbrush and looked about nervously, half expecting to be ambushed by some unseen menace. Andy held Methuselah protectively, just in case.
“You can put that sword away, sonny. Won’t be needing it here.” The lady turned and walked back toward the house.
Andy continued to clutch Methuselah and look around suspiciously as they followed.
They walked in the back door of the tiny cottage and were greeted by the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.
“I was told to be expecting you,” Anta explained, putting her basket on the kitchen counter.
The cottage seemed unusually spacious inside. It was neatly decorated with keepsakes and family pictures, the walls were freshly painted, and everything smelled clean. After all they had been through, this might have seemed like a welcome retreat, but Andy darted his gaze about, making note of another exit down the hall. Alden seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“Let me get my bandages,” the woman declared, making the pair jump. She disappeared into a room.
Andy rubbed the back of his neck and Alden scratched his shoulders as they waited.
The woman took to cleaning their wounds in silence. She washed every scrape, applied cream to the poison ivy so it stopped itching, and bandaged anything that was bleeding.
When she had finished, Anta announced, “I have chicken and dumplings prepared. I understand that’s your favorite dish, Andy.”
Alden glanced quickly at Andy who gasped, “How?”
Anta chuckled and raised her pointer finger. “But before we eat, you need some clothes.” She rooted around in a closet and found two tunics and clean leggings. She held them up. “These should do.”
She left them to change. The clothes fit perfectly.
They sat down at a table loaded with fresh watermelon, sliced tomatoes, freshly baked biscuits, chicken and dumplings, cinnamon rolls, and more of their favorites. At first Andy and Alden picked at the food, unsure whether they should trust it. But in the end, hunger overcame their hesitation and they wolfed down huge helpings of everything.
When at last they finished gorging, Andy pushed back from the table and declared, “That was delicious!”
“You’re welcome, boys.” A smile filled the old woman’s face.
“May I ask, what did you mean when you said you had been told to expect us?” Andy queried.
Anta smiled. “Years ago, when I felt the prompting to leave my comfortable life in the city of Oops and move into the Forest of Giants, people called me crazy. But I knew that’s what I was supposed to do.”
Andy interrupted absentmindedly, “That’s it! I remember Mermin talking about you! That’s where I’ve heard your name before.”
Anta Emm grinned and continued. “Since I’ve been here, even though it seems like the last place anyone would want to live, I have had great prosperity. I’ve never understood why. But then, a few nights ago, I had another prompting, that a pair of boys would be coming. I didn’t argue or doubt, just prepared for your visit the best I could. And here you are!”
Tension eased from Andy’s shoulders. “When you said you had a prompting, what happened exactly?”
“Oh, I received a message in a pulsing sphere.”
Alden raised a brow.
“Was it purple, and did it start with a trumpet blast?” laughed Andy.
“As a matter of fact, yes. How did you know?”
“I’ve gotten two of those now.”
The three of them chatted for a long while, swapping stories and laughing until their sides ached. Andy and Alden helped clear the table and put away the leftovers while Anta washed the dishes. When the work was done, she ushered them down a cheery hallway to a bedroom that smelled clean and fresh. There were two twin beds lining opposite walls of the modestly furnished room, and a vase of freshly cut wildflowers stood on the nightstand before an open window. They washed up in the adjacent bathroom—the soft, warm towels smelled like sunshine. Andy was the first in bed and Alden followed shortly thereafter. The sheets soothed his injured skin. They opted to leave the door to the hall ajar…just in case.
Dreams came quickly.
Warm sunshine streaming through the window woke Andy the next morning. It felt good. Alden still slept. He glanced over to see the door to the hall cracked open, exactly as they had left it the night before, and he smiled.
After dressing quietly, Andy tiptoed out the door. Partway down the hall his nose detected blueberry muffins being baked, and he tracked the tantalizing smell into the kitchen. Next to the table, he found two new backpacks standing at attention, filled to the top with clothes and food.
“I knew you’d be needing them,” Anta said as she entered the kitchen behind him.
“Thank you!”
Once Alden rose, they ate breakfast, packed up their gear, and said their goodbyes. After being without provisions, the weight of their backpacks felt comforting.
“I’m not sure where you’re going, boys, but be careful. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“We will, Anta. Thank you for everything.”
When they were several minutes away, Andy pulled out Methuselah. The blade extended and guided them as it had yesterday. Andy hoped it would lead them out of the Forest of Giants.
They had awake
ned to warm sunshine at Anta’s cottage, but the weather changed as they walked. The forest grew darker and they could hear thunder rumbling through the leaves overhead. Rain began to fall. For the first time, Andy and Alden were glad they had the thick canopy to keep most of the moisture away.
Hearty food coupled with the night’s rest had renewed Andy’s hopes. He was in a good mood and started to whistle. But a loud roar sounding through the trees put a quick kibosh on his merriment. It wasn’t thunder. They froze and waited. The roar came again. Methuselah pointed them toward the source.
“No, Methuselah,” Andy corrected. “We need to get out of here.” He willed Methuselah to retract its blade, but it ignored him. So he started walking away from the sound. Still, Methuselah remained steadfast, refusing to move in any other direction.
“I can’t believe this! We’re being dictated to by this sword.”
“Actually, I think it’s trying to show us something.”
“You want to get near whatever that is?”
“No, but so far it’s given us good directions.”
They followed Methuselah as quietly as they could. The roars grew louder. As they got closer, it became clear that they were overhearing an argument, even though neither of them understood the language. Several heated voices yelled and the roaring continued. Methuselah stopped and they took cover behind the nearest trees.
Peering through the foliage, they spied a beast, the likes of which they had never seen, standing in the clearing several feet in front of them. It was a monstrous red dragon with seven heads, ten horns, four enormous wings, and a gigantic tail that mowed down everything in its way no matter how big. A huge swath of trees and vegetation had been leveled in its wake. A liquid that looked like water spurted from three of its mouths, but when the clear liquid landed on its target, it sizzled and bubbled. A bright green mist spilled out of two other mouths, and fire out of two more.
Alden looked at Andy, his eyes wide. “What is that thing?”
Andy could not immediately tell which mouths spewed what, but the green mist looked familiar from his exploration of the castle and the dungeon door. When a whiff of the stench hit their noses a minute later, Andy knew without a doubt it was the same.
The dragon was furious, arguing with several oversized vulture-men. Not far from the gathering, Andy saw the fog-removing invention Mermin had given them!
The arguing continued in the unfamiliar tongue.
Andy gulped. Please don’t make me battle this dragon, he pleaded.
They stood watching for several minutes until Methuselah guided them away at last. They left as quickly and quietly as possible.
Andy had a sinking feeling this was not the last time he would be seeing the creature, and a chill ran down his spine.