The summit’s elevation brought with it a bitter chill. The friends lay on the cold stones and wrapped themselves close to each other to stay warm. Punga, snuggling deep in Odin’s beard, kept a vigilant lookout while the summit’s piercing darkness surrounded them.
At dawn, boisterous raven calls sliced through the morning hush and awakened the sleeping rescuers. Manti recognized the large birds’ clamor as a ceremonial flight and knew this alarming song was a mourning ritual. As she watched the ravens filling the sky, she saw that the green moon was still above the horizon. Manti suspected the messenger of the wind was near. She recalled her last visit with the banshee after the old raven delivered Laelia’s earring. The memory of his worn and faded feathers saddened her. She wondered if Laelia’s little friend had died and the flock of ravens and their song had something to do with Laelia.
Waking to the racket, Odin was annoyed at the ravens’ rude intrusion. As long as his stomach screamed for food, he did not care about ravens or anything else. Manti’s attempts to explain the noisy birds fell on deaf ears. The shrewd witch understood his hunger and knew that food was the fuel needed to renew the troll’s disposition. Punga, having done his night crawling, had a full belly. After peeking out to see the ravens, he snuggled back into Odin’s beard to sleep.
Manti looked about and recognized a nearby tree. Under its bark, the tree squirmed with food. With gnarled hands, she peeled the moist bark away and long nails teased succulent beetle larvae from their comfortable nests. Manti passed the grubs, big as toes, to her friends. With a sense of urgency driven by the circling ravens, she insisted there was no time to roast their food. Her companions were grateful for the bountiful tree as they wolfed down the wiggling grubs.
With everyone well fed, Manti was able to explain the presence and behavior of the ravens. Now the ravens’ persistent cackles had Amal’s full attention. As he looked down from the summit onto hills covered with dwarfed black spruce, vague fear tugged at his chest. The mountain crest over which the ravens flew seemed familiar. Amal recalled the oil trolls’ raid on a secret cave in which a monstrous troll lived. And how could he ever forget the troll with the lavender eyes? He guessed that the jagged cliffs looming above the trees possibly hid the secret cave. With Laelia’s face burning in his mind’s eye, Amal was determined to find Zote’s cave.
Raised in the bog, Amal belonged in the swamps like the animals that roamed and scuttled over land. He knew it well and told Odin about a crooked and dangerous trail that would lead them off the summit to a safe ridge. When Odin saw the path, he worried that it appeared deceptive and likely to lead them to a bad end. Manti trusted Amal’s judgment and convinced Odin to allow him to take control.
Amal guided them along the rocky crest. Although his legs were twisted, he carried his burden with determination. After a wearisome journey, they came to a clearing along the ragged edge of the ridge. Odin and Amal looked below while Manti put on her second pair of glasses to get a better view. There, cradled in the bog, was a deep lake. All of its shorelines were now visible from the ridge. They could see grass growing on the slopes near the lake. The area was dotted with rotting haystacks. Standing still, the malformed monsters appeared to be silently waiting for any victim that happened along. Amal recognized the lake and the haystacks. He had often used this dry hay for bedding, preferring it to the muddy riverbanks. He also remembered the smell of methane gas from the haystack’s rotting core.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
The journey was slow and difficult. The path was steep, narrow, and riddled with switchbacks. It emptied into a gulch with a river that gurgled and splashed over smooth rocks. The thirsty trolls heard its carefree melody and welcomed its cold water.
The path led them into a narrow ravine with towering walls that hovered over them like stone goblins. Keeping his eyes on the surrounding cliffs, Amal noticed scaly, tangled roots that twisted in and out of the ravine’s jagged rocks. Alert as an animal, he was well aware that the roots could be infested with evil oil trolls driven by ferocious appetites. He stopped short and studied the roots. Poking out of the stone’s cracks, he imagined misshapen woody heads with knobby noses and mouths wide open, exposing crusty teeth. Close to the roots, he looked for spiritless eyes watching and waiting. Satisfied that the snarled roots were just the contorted growth of trees, Amal continued down the path toward the lakeside.
Looking down through the dense woods, they caught a glimpse of the lake’s shoreline as the sun glistened on the water. They could now see the ravens soaring over steep cliffs that protruded out of the forest on the other side of the lake. Possibly, the ravens glided just above the spot in front of the gaping mouth of the cavern where Laelia once stood. Amal could not be certain.
Eventually, they emerged from the ravine onto a grassless slope just above the site of the hayfield. They now had a clear view of the limestone ledge towering out of the bog on the opposite shore of the lake. As they focused on the point below where the ravens were circling and rattling their plaintive calls, they could clearly see a cave opening carved into the stone. Soft winds carried the sweet scent of ethylene percolating out of the limestone’s pores. Amal recognized the odor.
In spite of the sunlight, Punga was wide awake and perched on top of Odin’s head. He spotted the shapes of two trolls in front of the cavern’s mouth. The group waited silently as Punga watched from his vantage point. He at first wondered how one of the trolls, as big as a bear, could be so ugly. The other troll was small and moved with the gracefulness of a young female. She appeared to be burying something that Punga thought could be the old raven. He watched as she worked with the soil, placing a stone over it as a marker. When she stood, she moved slowly with slouched shoulders as if grieving. Her tail sparkled with precious stones braided along its length. Colors of blue and green flashed in the glaring sun. Punga knew this was Laelia! He scampered down to whisper the news into Odin’s ear. Odin’s joyful reaction alerted all of his companions to the news that they had found his sister. The four watched from afar as Laelia and the shaggy-haired giant, whom they knew had to be Zote, moved down into the bog and toward the far shore.
Odin’s fear of the unknown vanished at the sight of Laelia. Courage flowed over him like an invisible armor. He felt for the first time that he was in control.
Quietly, the group moved down through the hayfield toward the lake’s shoreline opposite Laelia and Zote. The reeds that grew along the lake’s edge shivered in a slight breeze, anticipating the drama that lay ahead.