Day In. Hide Out.

Chapter 10

 And that's how the appointment went. We finished up and I escorted Dr. Nicholas back to the village with a smile and minimal talking. Ascot's wound is fine now and it is dressed with soft white cloth and a sort of fabric adhesive binding.

So Ascot and I set off in the early afternoon with time to burn and two heavy packs hanging from our shoulders. We came to the next village, which wasn't far, and took a break near a little clothing store, and went on our way further. By the time dusk fell, we were two more villages further in our trek across the kingdom.

"Two villages left I'd say," Ascot says, eyeballing the poorly drawn map that contains nothing more than a few scribbles from the mud soaked end of a thin stick.

"Or some such thing," I say with a soft giggle, pointing at the map with a sneer.

"So I'm not the best artist...." Ascot says with a grin.

"I wouldn't say you're much of an artist at all," I tease, hiding (unsuccessfully) my amusement. "But it's accurate so that's okay," I say, tapping his shoulder lightly so I can see it too.

As night falls and the sky darkens to an eerie blue with purplish streaks and silver clouds, the golden moon sets in and lights the sky like a bedside lamp left on. It lights the path and we take a shortcut through the next village, Grasmere. When we reach the unending woods' entrance once more, a new sign appears. "Grasmere Enchanted" is printed in bold letters on the wooden sign. Underneath it in smaller print are the words "Beware the night trolls. They bite."

"Well....short, sweet, and explanatory, aren't they?" I say to Ascot with a sarcastic sigh. We step into the forest bravely and begin walking along the path. Right before our eyes, the trees curl inward upon themselves creating a tunnel of tightly woven branches around us. The soft tinkling sounds of bells and chimes fill the air as we near a sparkling lake on the side of the path.

Without Ascot's consent, I dive off the path and follow the sound. And suddenly, before my eyes, fairies come out. Hundreds of them! A swarm of bright little golden lights like fireflies lighting the sky. Their skin nearly glows, and their little lacy wings fashion ornate patterns and unique shapes. They flutter thousands of times per minute, faster than a hummingbird on speed.

Above the lake, blue ghostly figures dart around like gusts of wind bottled and let go of. They dart back and forth between the trees and whisper along the wind happy sounds like birds chirping and little children telling secrets with their gibberish angel voices.

From the water, little green bodies escape, clambering out and shaking the mud from their scaly skin. The water nymph's long, flowing hair cascades nearly down to the water's surface, even once they're nearly emerged completely. Their slimy green skin drips onto the muddy bank and they talk to each other in low voices, sticking close together. The scales sparkle in the silvery moonlight.

The entire scene is amazing. The night is lit up with colors of every shade. The trees dance....literally. The branches move like arms and legs and the trunks sway and groan as if talking. I reach out and touch the bark on a tree softly, brushing my fingers along the intricate surface. The tree laughed. It seriously, literally laughed. The sound, of course, was not human, but it sounded like the creaking of a wooden floorboard being stepped upon.

Finally, as we circled the lake, we reached the little bridge crossing its stream. And there are the night trolls. Rotten little things from the beginning. They speak human words in gruff voices like little old men. They're hunched and wrinkled too, with stout little bodies built like cardboard boxes. They mutter to themselves and lumber over to us at the edge of the bridge.

A particularly fat one walks up to me and reaches up as if to take my hand and I raise my eyebrow. I remember the sign but don't choose to heed it, and reach down to him. He takes my finger tightly in his little, wet hand and bites me. Those suckers have sharp teeth, too!

When I pull away after a long while of popping his head and biting my lips as not to scream and disrupt the beauty of the enchanted night time, I have a row of circular teeth marks and a few drops of blood on my hand. My fingers are smashed near flat and I pinch my eyes tightly so I won't shed yet another tear.

Ascot is, oh so helpfully, standing already across the bridge laughing, doubled over with humor and amusement. I just glare at him as I step over the night troll with a trying smile and walk around the other side of the lake with him.