Flint and Fern left Dr. Night’s clinic together, the pair walking side by side as Fern took in the world with her newly enhanced vision. She pointed to a grove of distant trees. “I can actually see individual leaves on each branch! It isn’t one big, blurry shape anymore! Oh, Flint—I can’t thank you enough for helping me with this!”

Flint nodded and hoped that with her newfound sight, she wouldn’t be able to see the blush spreading across his face. Reed had somehow made the frames purple, like he’d promised, and they looked good on Fern, matching her hat and making her eyes sparkle.

“Let’s get back to the farm,” Flint suggested. “There’s lots of amazing things to see down by the cave.”

Fern nodded, and they continued their walk through the trees. They chatted amiably, each sharing stories about the different lands in which they grew up. Flint couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken for so long. He’d always been a very introspective sprite, but around Fern, he couldn’t stop blabbing. He decided that it was a nice change of pace and hoped that Fern felt the same way.

In no time at all, they came to the rock chasms. Curiously, they found that there was a wagon parked in front of the cave—one that looked familiar to Flint.

“Who’s he?” Fern pointed to the wagon, where a man was unloading some supplies.

“He’s an archeologist,” Flint whispered back. “There’s a woman who works with him as well. They were here last summer to excavate the cave, though I’m not sure why they’re back.”

As he said this, the blonde woman emerged from the mouth of the cave. “Just as I remember it. Cold, dark, and full of secrets. Are you ready to go inside?”

The male archaeologist straightened and rubbed his hands together nervously. “Are you sure we should be doing this, Cassandra? When I spoke with the farmer, he said that he wasn’t ready for us to start our excavation.”

The woman gave him a dismissive wave. “Who cares what he says? The farmer’s been arrested, remember? Our research is too important to delay any longer, and this whole property is deserted. Now, gather your tools together and let’s get started.”

Flint’s stomach dropped. Matt’s been arrested? What does that mean? The way the woman said it made it seem like Matt wasn’t going to be coming back for a long time. Oh, no. This is bad. I should go and tell Woods.

At that moment, Fern leaned over to him and said in a low voice, “Have you ever been inside the cave?”

Flint recalled memories of the few times he’d descended the perilous floors. He’d almost been eaten by a treasure chest, and at one point, he’d nearly been crushed to death by enclosing stone walls. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve been inside a few times. There’s lots of different ores, gems, and monsters down there.”

Fern whipped her head around to meet Flint’s eyes. “Monsters?”

Flint nodded, then inhaled sharply. The cave was full of monsters, and that included a dragon on the lowest level. Had Matt told the Cave Spirit to seal off the other floors? This is really, really bad. I know I should go talk to Woods, but… I can’t risk these people stumbling upon the dragon. I don’t care what Matt says. Dragons aren’t to be trusted—they’ll be eaten alive.

“Fern, do you want to come inside the cave with me? I have to check on something.”

Fern nodded enthusiastically and adjusted the spectacles on the bridge of her nose.

Together, the sprites waited until the archeologists had disappeared inside, then they ventured through the entrance, making sure to keep to the shadows and out of sight. So far, the archeologists were just unloading their supply crates. Flint gasped when he saw that the staircase leading downward was unsealed—open and in plain view. If the archeologists hadn’t seen it yet, then they certainly would soon. There was so much down there: the Goddess statue, the nature stones, and a huge, fire breathing dragon.

“Come on, we’ve got to warn the Cave Spirit!” He grabbed Fern’s hand and led her down the staircase.

As the sprites descended to the final step, a snapping sound echoed through the air. In an instant, a woven net enclosed around them, ensnaring the sprites and hoisting them aloft.

“What the—?” Flint started.

Fern yelped in terror.

“Cassandra! The trap caught something!”

Flint turned to the source of the voice and saw the male archeologist hurrying down the stairs.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Flint pulled a small dagger from the bag strapped across his chest and began sawing at the trap. But after a few seconds, he could see that the weapon was ineffective. “Is this enchanted rope?”

Fern ran her fingers over the netting and nodded. “I think it’s been enforced with magic. Pretty strong magic, too.” She turned to Flint, her spectacles glinting in the low light. “What’s your animal form?”

Flint’s heart sank. “A deer,” he said, defeated. His animal form was of no use in this situation.

“Mine’s a frog,” Fern said. “I can probably squeeze through one of these holes, but I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Footsteps could be heard at the top of the staircase, and Flint tried to quash the fear building inside him. “Do it. Try to get out of here unseen, then go get Woods. He’ll know what to do.”

Fern glanced past Flint before meeting his eyes again and nodding. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, then transformed. Her animal form, a purple frog, easily fit through the holes in the net, and Flint sighed in relief when she leapt from the trap and disappeared into the darkness below.

“What have we got here?” The man cut the trap down, holding it close to his face.

Flint’s heart thudded as he locked eyes with the archeologist.

The woman came down the stairs as well and shrieked when she saw Flint. “You were right, Merrick! There are tiny people down here!”

Flint cleared his throat. “Hello,” he said sheepishly.

Both humans gasped.

“You can talk?” the male named Merrick asked.

Flint nodded. The two archeologists exchanged bewildered glances.

At that moment, the cave began to rumble, the stone walls shaking and causing dust to fall from the ceiling. The trap Flint was stuck in swung from side to side as Merrick tried to steady his footing.

“What was that?” the woman, Cassandra, asked.

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“My guess would be the dragon,” Flint offered. “You two really shouldn’t be down here.”

The two archeologists shared another glance.

“I’m Flint, by the way,” he said, trying to be polite. Maybe these people were good like Matt and Melvin and Dr. Night.

“Incredible,” Merrick muttered, leaning in to examine Flint. “There are many legends about creatures like you, but nobody’s ever gotten a chance to study one, much less speak to one! May I ask what you are?”

“I’m a sprite,” Flint replied. He didn’t want to share too much information about himself and his family, but he also didn’t see the point in holding back.

“A sprite,” Merrick repeated. “Fascinating. Truly, fascinating.”

Cassandra crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. “Does the farmer know that you’re here?”

“Does the farmer know that you two are here?” Flint retorted.

Merrick shifted uncomfortably. “Not… exactly. But Matt Miller has been… indisposed. I can assure you that our intentions here aren’t nefarious. They’re purely educational—and we were still planning on sharing any proceeds of our excavation with the farmer.”

“If he ever gets out of prison,” Cassandra murmured.

Prison. Flint felt worse than when he’d eaten the wizard’s marshmallows. Matt’s in prison, and now I’ve been captured as well. This is all so terrible. How are we going to get out of this?

The cave rumbled beneath the group again, this time much more violently than before. Merrick nearly fell over, and Flint clung to the net as it swung from side to side.

“We should check out what’s happening down there,” Cassandra suggested, and Merrick nodded.

Flint shook his head emphatically. “Didn’t you hear me before? There’s a dragon down there. And—pardon me for saying so—but neither of you look strong enough to take on a fully grown dragon.”

Cassandra and Merrick looked at each other again before responding. “How do we know there aren’t more sprites like you further down, and you’re just trying to hide them from us?” Cassandra tapped her chin in thought. “From the stories, sprites are known to be deceitful. For all we know, this could all be an elaborate ruse to keep us from finding your treasure.”

Deceitful? How rude. “I’m not lying,” Flint protested. “Honest! I’m trying to keep you two safe.”

Cassandra gave him a look that she clearly wasn’t convinced. “I think we’ll take our chances,” she said. “Merrick, hang on to that thing while I fetch a torch. Let’s discover what other secrets this cave is hiding.”

Merrick nodded but appeared less certain. He pointedly avoided Flint’s gaze. After a few minutes, they started heading downward, and Flint wished desperately that the Goddess Statue would spring to life and save him. Oh, please hurry, Fern! I don’t want to become dragon food!

***

Woods, Reed, and Rock returned to the farm later that afternoon. Searching the forest had been fruitless, and the town of Sagewood was uncharacteristically quiet. People were staying in their houses, keeping to themselves, and an eerie stillness garnished the usually busy streets. Something was off, but the sprites couldn’t figure out what it was without talking to anyone.

They stopped at the orchard, and Woods turned on the spigot, letting the water soak the applepeach saplings. Rock eyed the spigot when he eventually turned it off, and Woods turned the spigot tighter, just as Matt had done to deter the sprites from messing with it. Rock sighed, his shoulders slumping.

A dripping wet Finn joined the group a few minutes later. “I just checked the well. Matt’s not at the bottom.”

Woods nodded and turned northward. “Do you think he fell in the river again?”

“Again?” Finn asked, wringing out his shirt.

“He almost drowned last summer, we all had to save him,” Reed said.

“Rock,” Rock commented.

Woods, Finn, and Reed exchanged horrified looks as they considered Rock’s point.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that… we’ll have to ask the River Spirit if she’s seen anything.” Woods turned toward the barn. “Someone needs to take care of the animals until Matt returns.” A grimace crossed his face. “Did he teach any of you how to milk the cow?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“That’s going to be a problem.”

“Maybe we just let Ivy and Holly figure it out?” Reed suggested. “I mean, they are girls, after all.”

“Rock?” Rock asked after a moment.

Woods shot him a look while Reed and Finn burst out laughing.

“Of course, Bessie is a girl. We’ve been over this, Rock. Only girl cows make milk. I’m not explaining it again.” Woods ran his hand over his face, exasperated.

A noise drew their attention. It sounded like a cry for help. The sprites turned to see a small figure emerging from the southern woods, a purple hat sprouting from a mess of frizzy hair.

“That’s Fern,” Reed whispered to Woods, who nodded.

“Flint’s been kidnapped by two humans in the cave!” she blurted as soon as she came within earshot.

All four of them perked up at the dire news.

“These humans,” Woods asked, “are they a small man and a tall woman?”

Fern nodded. “Flint called them… arch…archie…” she trailed off, frowning as she tried to recall the correct word.

“The archeologists,” Woods said. “I don’t think they’re particularly dangerous, but then again, you never know with humans.” He turned to regard Rock, Finn, and Reed. “Let’s get down there as quick as possible to rescue Flint. Matt’s going to have to wait for now.”

***

Dread filled Flint with every staircase they descended, the rumblings growing more intense. On the third floor, the quakes were so severe that both the archeologists stopped in their tracks.

“Should we continue?” Merrick asked his counterpart, his voice tremulous.

“Definitely not,” Flint spoke up. “The last time I was on this level, I almost got eaten by a treasure chest.”

Merrick and Cassandra stared at the sprite mutely, as if trying to decide if he were crazy, and Flint decided it was in his best interest to continue—if only to buy Fern and the others more time. “The next floor is a hallway filled with booby traps, though I think we already set those off. And the last level is guarded by the dragon. I’m telling you, there’s only one thing on this farm scarier than a dragon.”

“And what, pray tell, could be scarier than a dragon?” Cassandra asked.

“A sprite named Holly,” Flint answered gravely. “She’s got enough fire in her to put even a dragon to shame.”

Cassandra gave him a flat look, then turned to Merrick. “He’s toying with us.”

“No, it’s true!” Flint protested.

The woman ignored him. “We should press on. I have a feeling we’re on the cusp of discovering something big. This could be the biggest moment of our careers!”

“Or it could be our doom,” Merrick replied in a small voice. “I’m telling you, Cassandra, I have a bad feeling about all this.”

“Oh, enough with your feelings,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Since when do ‘feelings’ have anything to do with research? The fact that we’ve captured a sprite is incredible. Just think what else we might find in these tunnels!”

“I just prefer being careful,” Merrick protested. “What’s the big hurry, anyway? We should take our time with this—make sure we’re not missing any key details. That’s what it means to be an archaeologist.”

They continued arguing for some time, and Flint kept his mouth shut, not wanting to interrupt them. The longer they stood there, the more likely he was to be rescued. He thought of Matt and how he must be feeling in prison. Not good, he assumed. Flint didn’t care for being held captive. Not even a little bit.

Suddenly, something pricked his sensitive sprite ears. Footsteps—but not from feet. Hooves! It must be Rock. That definitely sounds like a moose is barreling through the cave above us. He sat up in the trap and turned to regard the staircase. Moments later, Woods appeared with his bow drawn, as did a terrified-looking Fern. They were accompanied by Rock, Reed, and Finn, all of them in their animal forms.

Cassandra screamed when she saw them. Merrick gasped.

Finn slid down the stairs on his scaly belly and snapped his jaws menacingly at the archeologists. They backed up against the wall. Reed jumped from the top of the staircase and landed next to Finn. Both predators faced the humans and bared their fangs.

Woods’ calm voice carried through the passage. “I’m going to need you to release our friend.”

“I knew it!” Merrick whispered excitedly to himself. His expression was a mix of fear and awe. “There are more of them down here!”

The cave shook again, and for a moment, it felt like the ceiling was going to collapse on top of them.

When the rumbling stopped, Woods cleared his throat. “I’ll make you a deal. We sprites promise to not harm you if you release Flint and exit the cave peacefully. We can talk more outside about why you two are trespassing.”

“Trespassing is a strong word,” Cassandra murmured, regaining some of her usual composure. “We’re both friends of Farmer Matt.”

“I doubt that very much,” Woods said, still holding his bowstring taut. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be down here without his permission.”

“We did have his permission, more or less,” Merrick replied. “He told us we could excavate this cave eventually, but then he got himself arrested. There was no telling when he’d come back, so we decided—”

“Wait a minute,” Woods said, lowering his bow. “Did you just say that Matt’s been arrested?”

“That’s right,” Cassandra answered. “By the Baron. A contemptable man, but very persuasive. Especially when he employs his soldiers like common thugs.”

Woods mumbled something that Flint couldn’t hear. He put away his bow completely and opened his mouth again to say something, but then, another quake shook the tunnel with such violence that all of them were thrown to the ground. Stones scraped together and cracks formed beneath them, the floor yawning open like a mouth to swallow them whole. Flint screamed as they fell and darkness enveloped him.

The last thing he saw were his friends plummeting one by one into the abyss.