Chapter Nine
> He could walk, but if he got a cold from trudging through this gloomy patch of trees, James would be grumpy.
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James had finally had a chance to study the map Gabriel had retrieved from Beacon Tower. Harold had been quite the traveler, which explained the derelict condition of his abode. His maps were exquisite, detailed, and intricate. So much so that they were actually difficult to read. James squinted at the scroll, searching for anything that looked like a castle. The king was most likely at his castle; even if he had somehow stolen away the Green Queen, there was zero chance of him hiding himself or her. People with money loved their conveniences in New York, and James was positive En was no exception. The Crimson King would be enjoying every amenity his castle had to offer. Besides, as king he was likely the most powerful person in the land and had lots of people either working for him or in fear of him.
So James would make a beeline for the castle. The less walking he had to do, the better.
Except that there didn’t seem to be a straight line to the castle, which he finally found in the top right corner of the map. The Village was inconveniently nestled in the bottom lefthand corner, and the only thing farther away was the wizard tower.
Naturally.
“Have you been able to decipher the map, Just James?” Gabriel asked. The two were sitting on the lip of the dry fountain as villagers and Fishmongers worked together to move tables back to their original places and repack the Village’s food storage back into the root cellar apparently located somewhere under the square itself. It must not have been hidden very well for the bandits to have found it in the first place. It probably had a large wooden sign posted above it that said “Extra Food Here” or something.
Even after the picnic lunch, there still seemed to be mountains of the super food James’ spell had altered, and he wasn’t sure if they would have space to store it all.
The Fishmongers would probably be happy to eat the excess. They still looked starving and in physical pain, staring at the food longingly as they helped hoist the weighty vegetables and take them down into the cellar.
“I’m working on it,” James said. “Our destination is right here,” he said, pointing with a crooked finger at the detailed illustration of a castle sitting on the top of a hill or mountain of some kind with what looked like a thousand stairs leading up to it. James sincerely hoped the illustrator had been exaggerating the grandeur—and number of stairs belonging to—the castle.
“The castle? Do you not think the king will have hidden the Queen of Life somewhere less, well, obvious?”
“The wealthy don’t like roughing it. He’ll be there, don’t worry.”
James traced down the map with his finger from the castle until he reached the Village. It looked like the fastest way to get from point A to point B would be to go through the dark mass of trees directly to the northeast of them. They were helpfully labeled “The Bewitched Forest,” whatever that meant.
“And it looks like the fastest way to reach the castle is to cut through this forest right here.” James pointed to the swath of trees on the map and Gabriel shuddered.
“The Bewitched Forest? We’ll never survive! There is a reason the road doesn’t cut through the forest, even though it is technically faster. My parents have sent me to the town past the forest a number of times to deliver our produce and get their fruit in exchange, and I’ve always been warned to avoid the forest.”
“I’m a wizard,” James said. Even though the phrase meant nothing to him, it seemed to hold weight with the Village, especially after the random spell he had cast.
Gabriel looked at the old man with reverence and shame. “I’m sorry for doubting you, Just James. You are clearly a spellcaster of incredible talent and power. If anyone can safely travel through the Bewitched Forest, it would be you.”
“That’s right,” James said gruffly, hiding a smile behind his flowing beard. “Remember that, young man, and you will go far.”
If only his parents could see him now. His mother would be nodding in approval and probably straightening his hat or fiddling with his makeshift walking stick to make sure he truly looked the part. His dad, on the other hand, would be laughing hard enough to shake the surrounding trees.
Gabriel nodded in acquiescence and shouldered his heavy pack with ease before tentatively setting foot in the dark woods. James shuffled after him, hoping the forest wasn’t as large as it seemed on Harold’s map. This much walking couldn’t be good for someone as old as him. Didn’t wizards from fantasy stories ride horses or donkeys or something? James would have to be on the lookout for a mount of some kind. Just for the effect, or course. Not because it would mean less walking. James wasn’t a quitter.
But why do more work if you didn’t have to?
Gabriel was uncharacteristically quiet as the pair traveled through the forest. His deep-blue eyes studied every boulder and spiderweb with scrutiny—maybe searching for danger, maybe fighting back the urge to pull out a broom from his massive pack and give the Bewitched Forest a good cleaning.
James was also studying the foliage. The trees were gnarled and ancient, their branches reaching for their clothes like crooked fingers. A dark mist seemed to drift through the air, making the air heavy and darkening the sun somewhere above them. There were no animals, and the entire forest hung in perfect silence. The occasional spiderweb, two or three times larger than the webs James was used to seeing back home, hung from branches, glistening with dew.
The silence and strange mist were making James tired. The spongy ground below them might suit for an impromptu nap.
The Bewitched Forest seemed designed to confuse and trap its travelers inside. There was no clear path through the tangled trees, and the midnight-green leaves above them completely cut off the sunlight. James shivered slightly, rubbing his shoulders and burrowing deeper into his robes. He made an effort to shuffle faster, and Gabriel politely changed his own pace to keep up with the old man. If James hadn’t been slowing the young man down, James was certain Gabriel could probably sprint across the entire forest in thirty minutes. Maybe he should see if he could bribe the young man into carrying him. Maybe there was spell for that?
Nah. He could walk, but if he got a cold from trudging through this gloomy patch of trees, James would be grumpy.
“Are we still going the right way?” Gabriel asked in a hushed tone after they had traveled for an hour exactly. The young man was perfectly punctual, even though watches didn’t exist in the fantasy land of En.
“Of course. Would I lead us astray?” James said. In truth, he wasn’t completely confident, but he’d always been good with directions in New York, and even if there weren’t any street signs or roads to cross, the trees looked a little like warped light posts and the spongy, dusty ground under their feet was vaguely similar to horse racing tracks.
“I don’t like this place,” Gabriel admitted after another moment of silence. “Everything is too quiet. And why are the leaves green here instead of brown like the rest of the kingdom?”
“It seems like this strange curse thing is still spreading. The thickest patch of trees by Beacon Tower weren’t completely dry and brown either.”
“Do you think it will be difficult to rescue the Queen of Life from the Crimson King?”
“It might be difficult to scale the heights,” James commented, thinking about the detailed illustration of all those terrible stairs.
“Such wisdom,” Gabriel said, glancing over at James in admiration.
They walked for several more hours without incident, although James could feel his steps slowing. He would usually be tucked into his thick blanket right now, taking a much-deserved nap in Blaise’s Books.
“Are you getting tired, Just James?” Gabriel asked tentatively.
“Why do you ask?” James said, failing to completely mask his frustration.
“You, well, you are moving a little slower than before,” the young man said kindly.
“Hardly,” James retorted immediately. He would have noticed if his pace had changed considerably. Then he glanced down at his slippered feet and noticed how reluctantly they shuffled forward, like two large, silky snails.
Hmm. He was hardly moving.
“I suppose you might be right, young man,” James said. “Maybe we could take a slight break. I would like a chance to… meditate.”
“Of course.”
By the time James had gotten to a sitting position on the forest floor, Gabriel had set up an impressive camp. There was a small fire roaring, and James could smell various vegetables sizzling. The young man was tending to the food with impressive concentration.
James nodded in appreciation. Or maybe from exhaustion. His eyes were feeling heavier than normal, and the warmth from the fire was nice, and the forest floor wasn’t so hard, now that he thought about it….
***
“Just James!” It was Gabriel’s voice, and he sounded distraught.
“Hurmph wha?”
“Just James, I don’t mean to disturb your meditation, but we have a… visitor.”
James yawned. He didn’t remember laying down. He replaced the hat he had been using to cover his face back over his head and straightened his blue robes, patting at them to try and get rid of as much dust as possible.
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“Who is it?” he asked.
Gabriel didn’t respond, so James looked around, searching for the cause of the young man’s distress. Trees, a spiderweb hanging from some branches to the left, the remnants of their fire, Gabriel’s large pack, a woman with extremely long hair, a large boulder to the right…
Ah ha.
“Hello, young lady. How can we help you?” James asked politely. The woman was probably in her forties, but that still made her young in comparison to him. She was wearing black robes and her hair, which reached down to her feet, was mostly black with streaks of pure silver filtered throughout.
The woman seemed taken aback by James’s greeting and wrinkled up her nose in confusion—or possible disgust, it was hard to tell.
“You have entered the Bewitched Forest,” she said, her soft voice gentle.
“That’s true,” James said with a smile. “What brings you here?”
Her hands balled into fists and her eyes, a strange violet, sparkled with anger. James looked at Gabriel, wondering if the young man knew why the strange woman was suddenly so upset. Gabriel looked truly terrified, although he was trying to put on a brave face.
“The Bewitched Forest is my domain, ignorant thrall,” she said, her harsh words a sharp contrast to her delicate voice.
“So sorry to intrude. I was… meditating for a moment, but we’ll be on our way. Just trying to make our way to the next town. Lovely place you have here, by the way. Great place for a nap… I would imagine. Have you lived here long?”
The woman rolled her eyes. She held a long stick of polished wood in one of her pale hands, and she clicked her long nails against the shaft as she slowly stepped closer to the Gabriel and the old man. Gabriel stepped back as she approached, maintaining the same amount of distance, but James was unperturbed. A strange squatter living in the forest was no cause for alarm. And what could they have disturbed? The woman’s arrangement of dirt or rocks? They would be on their way regardless.
“I have lived here for millennia,” she said coolly, and as she spoke her long, thick tresses started waving behind her like ocean waves. That was odd—James couldn’t feel a breeze—but he had never had long hair until now. Maybe that was just something hair so incredibly long did on its own.
“Nice hair,” he offered, biting back a groan as he used his walking stick to get back to his feet. He brushed off his robes, annoyed by all the dust he had collected during his nap. As he beat at the fabric the woman coughed, backing up from the billowing brown cloud.
“Why do you not fear me, foolish mortal?” she asked in between coughs.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted me to be afraid. What would you like me to be afraid of?” James asked. He wasn’t one to converse with women. Was this normal behavior? Bel had never said she wanted James to be afraid of her.
“My very being should fill you with absolute terror,” she rasped out, her usually beautiful voice marred by the dust. Her violet eyes glared at him under thick black lashes and her fingers seemed to grow longer, her nails taking on sharper points.
James looked over at Gabriel. True to the woman’s words, the muscular blond man was almost quivering, one hand on the sword at his waist, the other reaching for his pack.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you exactly?” He almost said “what are you,” but he didn’t want to be rude. They had already gotten off on the wrong foot, and that was with James trying to be as cordial as possible. Maybe the woman was well known to native inhabitants of En, but James was completely stumped.
“I, old man, am a witch.” The woman grinned, revealing unnaturally white teeth, some of them exceptionally pointed like a wolf’s smile. “I go by many names, but the only one you need to remember is Slow Death.”
“What an unfortunate name. Your parents must have had a strange sense of humor. You aren’t as ugly as other witches I’ve heard about though.”
“What’s wrong with my name?” the witch hissed, her voice now clearly inhuman and rough.
“Nothing, nothing.” James held his hands up in surrender. He really was terrible at talking with women. It had always felt a little easier talking to Bel. He missed her.
“I’m sorry we intruded in your cree… lovely forest. Gabriel warned me not to enter the forest, but I happen to be a wizard.” James puffed out his chest and smoothed down his white beard. “Actually, doesn’t that make us friends?”
“A wizard?” Slow Death straightened, looking over James with fresh eyes. “Is that so? I have not come across a wizard in many decades…” she muttered quietly.
“I must apologize,” the witch said, her voice becoming soft and meek once more. “I did not know I was in the presence of once such as you.” He looked the two of them over with those vibrant purple eyes of hers and added, “You must be tired after your long journey. I have warm, soft beds and delicious food back at my abode.”
Gabriel was about to protest, but James nudged the young man with his walking stick. A real bed? Here in the forest? He was tempted.
“Keep talking,” he said eagerly. “You said soft beds? Are we talking about Tempur-Pedic? Or those new purple things with the gel? Or I suppose you would be limited given the fact that you live in a forest. Maybe a bed stuffed with soft leaves or something?”
“I’m sure I have something you would find suitable, mighty wizard,” Slow Death said slyly. “I might even be able to find a temper pick for you.”
“And food? I think my young companion here just ate, but what kind of food are we talking about?” Gabriel was vehemently shaking his head now, his bright-blue eyes getting wider, but James patted the young man on the shoulder and looked over at the woman once more.
“Oh, all sorts of delicacies,” the woman said sweetly. Her long hair was still swaying as though it had a mind of its own, like dozens of black and silver snakes tasting the air. It was a little weird, but James had seen stranger fashion choices on the streets of New York.
“I can offer sweet berries, lemon nectar, dark-oak bread, fresh nut soup, freshly grilled frog toes…”
“Did you just say toes?” James said, interrupting her list.
“Oh yes, as many as you could possibly want,” Slow Death replied with a wide, toothy grin.
“Hmm. You know what? I’m honestly not very hungry. Your offer is very kind, but my young companion and I are on a quest and should be on our way.”
James had high standards. Anything with toes would never be on the menu. Even if he missed out on the soft beds promised. He’d gotten in enough of a nap to probably make the rest of the journey out of the forest. And then they would be in the neighboring town, which probably had a hotel or inn of sorts where he could get a comfortable bed.
Yes, he would wait.
“My offerings are not up to your standards, wizard?” the witch asked slowly. Her eyes were growing darker, and her hair was now spread out behind her like a peacock’s majestic tail. James was not good at reading women, but he was almost sure he had offended the short woman. She might have been more terrifying, but just by looking at her James was confident she was probably barely five feet tall. Maybe five foot one, but that was being generous.
“Of course not. I just don’t have much of an appetite in my old age. I eat more out of habit than anything else.” James looked to Gabriel, hoping the young man could help ease the awkward situation that was getting worse with every word James spoke. This was hopeless.
“Perhaps my young companion is still hungry though, why don’t you ask him,” James said quickly. The violet gaze shifted to Gabriel, who stood up straighter and looked down at the angry woman with false bravado.
“I, we didn’t mean to disturb your lair. We were only trying to reach the next town and did not know someone of your status dwelled in these dark woods. We…”
James stopped listening. Gabriel was just as bad at this as he was. He sighed. He’d probably have to pull out that spell book again. He’d been able to solve all his problems with a silly poem last time. Maybe it would make one of the two of them better at communicating with the opposite sex. He could only hope.
He glanced over at Slow Death—what a terrible name—and Gabriel occasionally as he flipped through the book. They were still talking, and the short woman was looking at the young man with… hunger? Maybe she was hungry, even if they weren’t. There was no one stopping her from eating the frog toes, so it didn’t make much sense to James.
Judging from the titles, none of these spells would solve their latest problem. And he was running out of time. The woman was looking over at James suspiciously, especially at the book in his hands. She was a witch, after all. She might have a spell book or know magic things. This was no time to browse. Gabriel was getting desperate. He’d run out of the things to say and was continuing to back away from Slow Death, which looked pretty comical, given the extreme difference in size between the muscular blond man and the petite woman with snake-like hair.
James flipped to a page at random and started reading in his most authoritative voice.
“From the simple and small,
the victim will grow tall,
towering over the land with ease,
capable of blowing over trees with a single sneeze.
They will stand proud like a tower,
until the sun begins to cower,
and when the darkness escorts
the world, the victim will once again be short.”
What on earth did that mean?
James didn’t have to wait long. The moment his “spell-casting” voice stopped thundering, the witch started to mutter rapidly under her breath as her hair, already long, started pooling around her feet. James was still puzzling through the parts of the spell he could remember when Gabriel took advantage of Slow Death’s confusion to grab his pack off the ground and pull James back, almost knocking the old man off-balance in his haste.
James was about to reprimand the muscular brute and give him some lecture on respecting his elders when he looked back over at the violet-eyed woman and bit his tongue.
All he could see now were two long, white pillars that stretched up past the trees, half of them shrouded by a massive black flag of some kind.
White pillars that ended in the largest pair of feet James had ever seen.
“Wizard,” a deep voice boomed in pure rage before gasping.
James would have been startled too if his voice had suddenly dropped five or six octaves.
“What do we do now, Just James?” Gabriel said in a rush. “We still have at least an hour before the sun sets, and the witch will be even more enraged now that you… changed her.”
“All part of the plan,” James blustered. “If you insist on doubting my wizardly wisdom, I’ll have to send you back to your little plot of rocks…”
“I would never doubt your wisdom,” Gabriel said quickly.
“Good,” James huffed. “Now pick me up and start running.” He pointed a crooked finger at what he thought was northeast. “That way.”
Gabriel nodded and hoisted James into his arms with ease, shifting from a fast walk to a jog in moments.
It would have been demeaning, if it wasn’t so refreshing to not be on his feet for once.
“Don’t worry, she’ll never find us now,” James said. “She’d have to crawl around on her belly just to fit under the tree branches. All part of my intricate plan.”
“I wouldn’t have thought of something so brilliant,” Gabriel said, his voice not even winded as he continued to run through the forest, a wizard in his arms and a large pack on his back.
“That’s why I’m the wizard,” James said smugly.
He could hear the witch in the distance, grunting and occasionally yelping when a branch snapped with a loud crack. She wouldn’t bother looking for them for long, not with such perfect, manicured fingernails. Besides, her long hair would probably get tangled in the forest, and Slow Death seemed like someone who cared about her appearance.
He hadn’t needed to read the tome of mysteries in depth yet, neither of them needed to try and appease the angry woman now that she was likely fifty feet tall, and he didn’t even need to walk anymore.
Things were looking up.