Stiltskin (Andrew Buckley) (17 page)

The ink black trees of the Dark Forest rustled restlessly while the four travellers slumbered in a deep and uncomfortable sleep. Not all in the forest were sleeping, though. The forests of Thiside were well known for the amount of sleep that its inhabitants did not get during the night hours. One such creature, the Warzgurt, was one of those especially adept non-sleepers.

The Warzgurt was widely regarded as an unsociable creature, the sort that never got invited to a birthday party or afternoon tea. This was partially because the Warzgurt was the size of a compact vehicle, with two bright, orange, lemon-sized eyes, had six legs, was covered in shaggy hair, sported talons like kitchen knives, and had a large, melon-shaped head with a wide crescent-shaped mouth that housed hundreds of very sharp teeth. The other reason a Warzgurt would never be invited to a birthday party or for afternoon tea was because it loved the feeling of warm flesh, mostly in between its teeth.

It was a Warzgurt that now emerged from the forest onto the open path not far from where the group slept. A Warzgurt could be compared to a hundred-year-old ninja in that they could move with a stealth and conviction that almost made them seem invisible and yet they didn’t really have to move quietly at all, as they had the ability to kill a person before one had a chance to say, “Wait, don’t kill me.” Although tests on the subject matter didn’t exist, it was highly suspected that a victim probably wouldn’t even get to the word “wait,” let alone anything else.

The Warzgurt’s gaze penetrated the darkness and realized that this was his lucky day. Not only had he stumbled across four victims quite accidentally, he didn’t even need to stalk or hunt them; they were laid out like a buffet just asking to be eaten.

The large beast moved without a sound and took a closer look, sniffing each one as he examined the soon-to-be dinner. Two single-bite Gnomes, always tasty, and rare in the forests, a smelly human that he’d save for dessert, and another human with long hair, and… The Warzgurt froze solid in mid-sniff over Lily. Its hind legs began to tremble and although it was covered in hair, the skin beneath turned pale. It scrambled back as quietly as possible before losing control of its bladder, creating a nice-sized puddle of green fluid.

The Warzgurt, one of the most feared creatures of the Dark Forest, turned and fled into the trees like a little girl running from a spider.

Lily began to snore softly.

Rats in Thiside were very much like rats in Othaside. They were small, furry, grubby-looking scavengers with long tails and pointy teeth. The only difference was that the rats of Thiside could speak. Some could even sing. Before the Emerald City was destroyed, the Emerald Opera House often played host to the Travelling Rat Chorus, a group of rats who enjoyed wearing frilly collars and singing opera music.

The only issue with the rats of Thiside having the ability to speak was that they lacked the ability to keep their thoughts to themselves and instead verbalized every single last one of them. Everything they thought came out of their mouths.

Around the same time that the Warzgurt was fleeing into the Dark Forest, an especially grubby, overweight rat named Albert was scurrying around the remains of a burnt-down settlement. He hummed to himself as he sifted through the remains of a wooden statue looking for something to eat or possibly something shiny that he could take home to decorate his hole in the wall.

“Looking for garbage looking for garbage,” muttered Albert. “Hmm hmm
hmm
hmm,” hummed Albert, “ohhh that looks nice, what’s that? Could be a piece of fruit nope definitely a piece of wood ooh maybe that’s a piece of fruit nope that’s a rock definitely a rock looked like fruit boy it smells funny here wonder where the other rats are they always leave me by myself I get so nervous so nervous when I’m by myself. What was that?”

Albert wasn’t particularly smart even by rat standards and when the ground beneath him began to move around he assumed it was just his feet doing something funny.

“That’s strange,” he said, “that’s very strange my feet have never done that before nope never before.”

When a small hand exploded up out through the earth and grabbed a handful of Albert’s fur he assumed that he was experiencing a very intrusive itch.

“Hmm, that feels itchy.”

When a second hand grabbed another handful of fur, he began to worry.

“Wait a second that’s not right.”

When the hands repositioned and clamped onto Albert’s groin it began to dawn on him that it might not be an itch at all. It took a while for the electrical impulses to reach his brain telling him that he was in a great deal of pain but once they did, he took off like a rat whose testicles had been grabbed firmly by a Fairy.

“It’s got me it’s got me! Something’s got me I don’t know what it is but it’s got me by a very awkward area and it doesn’t feel comfortable at all, at all! This is bad oh this is very bad.”

Veszico held on tight and was dragged from the earth by the retreating rat. The Fairy released her grip and watched Albert run as if his testicles depended upon it.

“Help! Someone help! There’s a creature around here trying to hang on to my groin what kind of animal does that ow it’s hurting to run but I’m not stopping because that thing might still be behind me and I do not want it to grab me again no I don’t definitely not. Oh the pain’s getting worse so much worse and everything going a little blurry oh dear I think I’m passing out yes definitely passing out.”

Veszico watched as Albert the rat passed out in mid-run and slid to a stop.

Fairies were created by a random burst of magic that had transformed a group of shiny rocks into the first Fairies. The Fairies quickly discovered how to breed and the three groups of Fairies quickly became obvious. Because they were descended from rocks, Fairies were incredibly tough and could transform back into rocks at will. As their emotional state resulted in a chemical reaction through their sweat glands that caused either glowing or spontaneous combustion, they were impervious to high or low temperatures. It wasn’t the fire that had hurt Veszico, but the impact from the axe handle that had struck her. She had tried to turn into a rock but was too late and had been rendered unconscious. Why she had been buried was completely beyond her comprehension. She carefully stood up and brushed herself off. Thinking back to the Exchange, the last thing she’d heard was something to do with the Historian.

She tested her wings, jumped into the air, and began to glow bright blue. She swished and she swerved, she flipped and she spun, and then she took off into the darkness.

obert awoke as the sun began to rise. Much like its setting, the sun had a much more adventurous way of rising. Rather than peeking over the horizon and slowly creeping out, the sun in Thiside preferred to jump out, so the transition went from dark to slightly dim as the sun approached the crest of the horizon to sudden daylight!

Robert was used to sleeping in his apartment in a dark room with curtains on the window and a comfy bed. Sleeping under the stars on the hard ground was not something that he was used to. He’d tried camping once when he was younger and, as usual, his general weirdness had intervened. He’d woken up in the morning to find an elderly badger in his tent. Finding a badger in his tent was weird enough but what was strange was that the badger appeared to be humming to him. And not humming just anything; he was humming
Rock-a-bye-baby
. Robert had stared at the badger. The badger had stared back, winked at him, and vanished. Since that moment, the thought of camping had disturbed Robert in ways he couldn’t describe and he chose not to sleep in the wild ever again.

The Gnomes had cooked everyone a breakfast made up primarily of large eggs and some sort of leafy herb that the White Rabbit had packed for them. As obnoxious as the two little men were, they were among the most amazing cooks that Robert had ever experienced. Their ability to make a meal out of anything was remarkable.

Lily had taken Robert’s pyjama shirt to wear and looked very much like an outdoorsy person with her thick, rough pants and baggy shirt. Her hair was messy and her face still held traces of soot. Her eyes seemed less bright this morning, and much to Robert’s joy, she had lost the sternness he had experienced in her last night. Lily’s mood swings were extremely random and always seemed worse at night. Robert was having trouble figuring her out and it didn’t help that he’d yet to figure out any female he’d ever met.

The Gnomes extinguished the fire and the foursome prepared to make their way along the dim path out of the dark forest. Robert felt like he was forgetting something, something important.

“Where’s the kitten?” he remembered.

The Gnomes finished kicking dirt on the fire and looked at Robert as if he’d lost his mind.

“What are you talking about?” asked Gnick.

“The kitten from the halfway house; he was asleep here last night and gone when I woke up this morning.”

“Maybe you dreamt it,” suggested General Gnarly.

“You guys are just screwing with me, right? Bloody hell, you didn’t cook it, did you?”

“Look, moron,” said Gnick, “I promise you, we don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lily was looking at him in complete confusion.