“No!” Night Owl squeaked. “Our people have waited thousands of years for the Red Goddess.” He pointed the tip of his spear at me. “She glows like the prophecy. She cannot be allowed to leave.”

  The tree remained motionless. I turned, intending to make our escape while the brownies continued to rant.

  Windish sat, dazed but mobile. Joshua and Coco tried to help him to his feet.

  I hoped to outrun the little people rather than injure any of them in a fight, but I would fight them rather than discover what dismal fate their prophecy held for their Red Goddess.

  In a branch high above us, a tiny but discernible horn sounded.

  “Run!” I cried.

  Hundreds of brownies descended from trees on ropes. We were surrounded before even advancing a few steps. None of us drew swords. Such small creatures could not be fought with our usual weapons. I balled my fist, preparing to strike.

  One brownie screamed a battle cry and hurled a tiny sack at my face. I swatted it aside, but it exploded in a cloud of dust. I coughed and waved the substance out of my face, but I soon found my eyelids too heavy to open. Ropes cinched around my ankles, pulling me off balance. My limbs felt too heavy to resist.

  I fell and the ground seemed to rise to meet me.

  15

  I woke feeling stiff and groggy. I lay on the floor of what appeared to be a wooden workshop or shed. Rope bound my hands, shoulders, and feet. I strained to break the restraints. With sudden dread, I realized my necklace was missing. No Warrior Stone. I tried to transport. The star still didn’t work.

  “We must retrieve the sacrificial blood,” Night Owl told a brownie beside him. Judging by the little one’s headdress, his name was probably wolf-something.

  “Do we kill her here and carry the blood to Oak or kill her at the oak?” His tinny voice had an eerie practicality as he discussed my death.

  They turned their gaze to a tiny book on a small table before them.

  “It doesn’t specify if the blood has to be fresh and warm or not.”

  I squirmed against my ropes.

  “She wakes!” a brownie to my left cried. She drew back her arm to throw something in my face.

  “Wait, Raven!” Night Owl cried. “We don’t know if the poppy dust will contaminate her blood. It could ruin the ritual.”

  Raven lowered her arm with a scowl. She straightened a black feather in her cap.

  “What ritual?” I asked, unable to conceal a high pitch of alarm in my voice.

  “The prophecy states the blood of the Red Goddess will set the tree free,” Night Owl explained.

  I licked my dry lips. “How much blood?”

  “What?”

  “How much blood? Every drop or only one drop?”

  He frowned at me and turned back to his book. “Move, Grey Wolf.” He nudged his friend aside irritably.

  After a long moment, he said, “It doesn’t specify.”

  A small quiver of relief spread through me. “So perhaps let us first try one drop before resorting to a deadly bloodletting.” I tried to keep my voice pleasant.

  The two brownies turned to each other in conference. I couldn’t discern their whispering.

  I turned my head to look at Raven, who picked at her black fingernails, as though my captivity bored her. “Where are my friends?”

  “The pits.” The location implied something dismal, but she said it as casually as though they waited in the tearoom.

  “Alive?”

  She looked at me like my question was absurd, rolled her eyes, and nodded.

  I closed my eyes briefly. “Thank you, Raven.”

  Night Owl and Grey Wolf had escalated to arguing.

  “If she is a goddess, maybe it won’t kill her. Or if she is, maybe we shouldn’t kill her?”

  “If we don’t kill her, she’ll kill us.”

  “The prophecy doesn’t say anything about killing anyone.” Night Owl slammed his little fists down on the table.

  Apparently a great deal was at stake over this prophecy of theirs.

  I cleared my throat. “Perhaps if you read the prophecy to me, I can help you with the interpretation.”

  Grey Wolf shot me a distrusting scowl.

  I rolled my head back to stare at the ceiling. How had such small, confused little creatures so easily disarmed the Avant Champion? What they lacked in size, they made up for in numbers and creativity. Their creativity enabled them to swing from trees, launch sleeping powder, and haul me into their workshop.

  I admired their spunk, but I needed to convince them alternative options to killing me existed.

  As I stared at the ceiling, I watched hundreds of lightning bugs walk along the planks. Their glow illuminated the room. Rather than fly sporadically as they did on my farm in the summer evenings, they walked in organized circles. One cluster of them hovered close to Night Owl’s desk, providing light for reading his book. From the windows, I could see dusk had descended.

  My eyes spotted my necklace dangling from a hook on the wall. So close with no way to reach it. I quietly tested my restraints again. I couldn’t move more than slight muscle twitches. Inescapable.

  “We will take the matter to Wizard Oak.”

  “You saw him turn away. He wants nothing to do with her. He has given up hope,” Grey Wolf replied.

  “This is about his freedom. He will answer how to interpret the book.”

  The book. Such a tiny little thing with words too small for me to read, and in a writing I didn’t know, dictated my future—however short that may be.

  “I will go with you,” I offered. “Perhaps if I let him know I’m willing to help so long as my friends remain unharmed, he will speak with us and make sure the prophecy is correctly interpreted and fulfilled.” I tried to keep any resemblance of desperation out of my voice.

  Skeptical eyes bore into me.

  “Leave my hands bound if you are concerned about me running away, though I swear to you I would not leave without my companions. I’m not at risk of escaping.”

  “You swear you will not try to escape?” Grey Wolf asked. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it toward me.

  “I swear to stay and hear the terms of your prophecy.” If I didn’t like their prophecy, I had no intentions of allowing myself to be injured or killed.

  After the brownies cut the binds on my feet and shoulders, I managed to ungracefully crawl out of their workshop. When I clambered halfway, I realized we were several meters up in a tree.

  I scrambled to grab a nearby branch when I felt myself fall. With my hands bound, my grasp failed. I flipped sideways, then feet first as I crashed to the ground. My feet hit the dirt and slid out from under me and I landed on my backside.

  High-pitched giggling erupted above me.

  “Watch your step,” Grey Wolf called down to me before swinging down on a small rope.

  Infuriating little cretin.

  I stood, asking, “May I have my necklace?”

  “So you may smite us all? No.”

  I sighed, looking around at the village. Tree houses of all shapes and sizes surrounded a clearing. In the center appeared to be a marketplace with tiny shops. Harnessed squirrels pulled carts of food at the command of brownies.

  A hawk swooped down and landed on the ground. Grey Wolf jumped astride as if she was a horse.

  “That’s my bird!” I protested.

  Carrot took flight with the brownie on her back. Another hawk joined her, carrying Night Owl. They had stolen my companion.

  Raven hopped from the tree to my shoulder. “Follow them.” She sat down and clutched my ear for support.

  Apparently I, too, was to be ridden like an animal. I started walking.

  “How do you command the animals?”

  “We ask, and they comply.”

  “Anything?”

  She stayed quiet a moment. “No. Nothing abusive. We can’t force them to harm themselves or someone else.”

  “Can you control all creatures?” I asked.

  “Small animals only.”

  “I thought my hawk was loyal to me.” I couldn’t conceal the disappointment in my voice.

  “She is. She followed you here. Squawked at us for attacking you. She allows Grey Wolf to ride so she can stay close, and of course he rides her because he wants to provoke you. I suspect if any real harm came to you, she would seek retaliation.”

  “Please don’t harm her.”

  “You are the Red Goddess, aren’t you!” Her tone held surprise and a hint of awe. “Many of us have been debating Night Owl’s claim during the hour you slept.”

  “Why do you believe I am?”

  “The prophecy says you glow red when threatened, and your love for animals rivals that of the brownies.”

  “What else does it say?”

  I waited, but she didn’t answer.

  In the silence, other thoughts occupied my mind. This business of freeing Wizard Oak raised concerns. Who was the Wizard Oak, why had he been entombed in a tree, who put him there, and what were the consequences of unleashing him?

  We arrived back at the great tree. I hoped more riddles wouldn’t be required. Between being kidnapped, sedated, and falling out of a tree, I wasn’t in the mood for riddles.

  The hawks landed on the live oak, and Night Owl and Grey Wolf dismounted, standing on a limb to look down at me. Raven leaped off my shoulder to join her companions on the tree.

  The tree trunk distorted, and Wizard Oak’s face emerged. “I gave you leave of this place.”

  I held up my bound hands. “It appears your friends are looking out for you.” I suspected he already knew we had been taken captive and why, but I politely explained the situation. “As I understand, the brownies believe me to be a red goddess.”

  “The Red Goddess,” Grey Wolf interjected.

  I continued speaking to Wizard Oak, “They have an ancient prophecy claiming the blood of the Red Goddess can set you back to your true form—human perhaps. We have come to obtain your assistance in interpreting the prophecy. It says blood is required, but not how much blood. I feel it is reasonable to see if only a little is needed before resorting to more extreme measures.”

  Wizard Oak gave a slight quirk of his lips as though comprehending how I had managed to talk my way into this meeting.

  “Are you the Red Goddess?”

  Not an easy question to answer. “I don’t know,” I said truthfully.

  Night Owl gasped.

  “I have been called that once before, and my stone does give me power. However, I rule over no one and I desire no worship. I believe in the Unideit, so to accept such a title would be heretical.”

  Did I believe in the Unideit? I had never confessed such to Baird, but I found the concept appealing—an all-encompassing power founded on love and unity.

  The Universal Religion was far superior to gods with petty traits of jealousy, adultery, incest, and murder. Yet, at times I wondered if the threads of the Unideit that linked us all were shimmering lights of power, as the religion claimed, or puppet strings tugging us to the bid- ding of some master plan.

  “So it is you.” The wizard’s voice filled with astonishment and lost the bitterness it previously held.

  I felt my eyebrows knit in confusion.

  “The humble goddess,” the tree said.

  The brownies said in unison, “The humble goddess calls Crithos home.”

  I nearly snorted in laughter, but managed to choke it back before I could appear rude. With as straight a face as I could manage, I said, “I’ve been called many things, but humble is not one of them.”

  “We accept your offer to try your blood. I fear to hope too much. I have languished here for over seven thousand years, waiting millennia after millennia for my release. I have had the brownies for company—faithful companions. They watch the world and keep me informed of the passage of time.”

  “You’ve been a prisoner since the Hundred-Year War?”

  “You know your history.”

  Should I share my secret? I wanted to know his. Perhaps another time. “Why are you a prisoner?”

  “Free me and I will share my tale, though it is one of youthful pride and ignorance.”

  “To help you, I have three conditions.”

  The brownies erupted in protest.

  Wizard Oak narrowed his hollow eyes at me. “Name your price, Abigail Cross.”

  “I need assurances that in your true form, you intend no harm to anyone. I need to know my friends and I will be unharmed and al- lowed to leave.”

  “Hmm. And your third request?”

  “My friends and I have not eaten since morning. If you could spare some food?”

  “I find your terms acceptable. In fact, what say you, Night Owl? Should this truly succeed, a celebratory feast?”

  “Here! Here!”

  For the first time since meeting the brownie, I saw him smile. After marsh travel and with the looming unsolved civil war, having something to celebrate appealed.

  I extended my hand to Night Owl. “Are we ready?”

  “Wait!” Grey Wolf cried. “We must gather all of us, make a ceremony of this.”

  Caution wavered within me. “Pardon my negativity, Grey Wolf, but if it doesn’t work, there may be many disappointed brownies.”

  He considered my words. I hoped he considered the possibility of facing disgrace if he and Night Owl were wrong about me.

  I shot a quick glance at clever Raven. Judging by her scowl, she suspected my ulterior motive. If a small amount of blood was insufficient in freeing Wizard Oak, I needed to be able to escape before they attempted to extract larger quantities. Escape would be far easier with three brownies to evade rather than hundreds.

  Evade the brownies. Retrieve my necklace. Free my friends.

  I hoped a few drops of blood worked. Afterward, we could all be feasting under the moons in a short time.

  My stomach gave a rumble of agreement.

  “Very well,” Grey Wolf grudgingly agreed.

  Night Owl thrust his spear toward me.

  I reached to grab it, but he moved it. As I moved my hand again, he moved the little spear again.

  “If you hold still. No. Wait. I’ll grab it if you hold still. Ouch!”

  He had moved it and thrust it up, spearing the side of my palm.

  Blood welled and began to drip. “Where do I put it?” I held my hand out over the tree.

  “The root!”

  “The trunk!”

  “Since we don’t know what will happen, perhaps you shouldn’t be standing on the tree,” I suggested.

  Even as I finished my sentence and another drop of blood fell, a blinding white light erupted from the tree. I staggered back, covering my eyes. A pulse of hot air knocked me off my feet.

  When the light subsided and I could finally see again, a man lay curled in a ball among the ferns. The great oak tree still stood. The brownies huddled on the branch, gaping at the man.

  “Apparently I was the one standing in the wrong spot.” I tugged off the binders on my wrists, stood, and brushed dirt off my clothing.

  The man remained still.

  Please be alive.

  Had I freed the Wizard only to doom him to a mortal death?

  His naked body lay pale and withered. A thick mat of gray hair covered his head. To my great relief, his chest rose and fell.

  “Do you have clothing for him?” I asked Night Owl.

  He sent Grey Wolf off on a hawk—not Carrot—to fetch clothing.

  “Wizard Oak?” I laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  He stirred and sat, blinking at his surroundings. He looked at his hands—his human form—in awe. He gave me a smile that wrinkled his face up to his pale blue eye where tears welled. “I’m an old man.” He chuckled.

  “You weren’t when you were imprisoned?”

  He shook his head. He looked at his surroundings.

  I wondered if his first order of business would be to chop down his former tomb.

  Brownies emerged from the trees around us. Some stared in silent wonder, others babbled quietly to whomever stood closest to them.

  I felt a mix of happiness and dread. My single act had simultaneously fulfilled their prophecy and likely created a whole new set of expectations for the Red Goddess—a title I would happily abdicate.

  Cursed puppet strings.

  16

  I helped lower a ladder down into the pit where Joshua anxiously awaited his release. The brownies had ten separate pits dug in the ground, each large enough to hold a Hunju. They symmetrically spanned in two rows of five and dug deep enough in the moist ground that there would be no climbing out of them. I shuddered to think if they held captives in those during a flood. My team members were the only current captives.

  “Abbey.” Joshua embraced me fiercely.

  Dirt covered us and brownies surrounded us, but that didn’t stop us from a long, re-energizing hug.

  “Are you okay?” His eyes roamed over my face as he leaned back from me. He slid his hands down my arms.

  “I’m okay.”

  The elderly wizard approached, now dressed in loose brown garments.

  “This is the Wizard Oak. He has been set free in exchange for our passage through the forest.”

  “Orrick Dallik, but I am called Oak.” He offered a hand to Joshua.

  Joshua accepted it, and Oak clapped both his hands around Joshua’s one.

  “My apologies for our inhospitable behavior. Most who enter our forest come to chop the live oaks for wood for ships. Mostly the giants from Dantaju.” His eyes darted from Windish’s prison pit and back to us. “The brownies’ home has been reduced over a thousand years to little more than a sliver of forest. They only want to conserve their habitat.”

  “I assure you we seek only passage through their land. I’m relieved Abigail was able to help.” Joshua shot me a look indicating I owed him a detailed explanation.

  I had no doubt he had noticed when I didn’t deny the Red Goddess title hurled at me before we had been captured by the brownies.

  “Does anyone else get out of the pit? Or is it only the Avant Champion and her husband?” Coco’s voice was strained and irritable.

  Oak looked carefully at me. “The Avant Champion? Most fascinating.”

 

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