Mirror, Mirror (Book 2)

Chapter 38: Journey

Deep into the woods, Oliver pushed the scratchy twigs away from his face and headed in the north direction, with Amelia tagging along behind him.

The chilly wind suddenly became warm as goosebumps from Oliver's arms suddenly vanished. As it wavers underneath his nose, Oliver smelled a faint tropical fragrance.

Scents like oranges, coconut, papaya, and salty ocean water, made the boy want to open his mouth and let the perfume melt into his tongue.

Never in his life has he smelled anything so sweet before; it was like waltzing in Hawaii, basking in the sun sipping fruity beverages.

Every five seconds, Oliver would stop himself and sniff for the sweet fruity scent. Like a tsunami, the smell would wash away whatever foul stench he and Amelia stumble across.

For instance, they walked past a patch of growing mushrooms that smelled like moldy cheese, a despicable odor of a rotting squirrel corpse, and a thick, mud puddle whose fragrance reminded Oliver of a sour lemon rind.

Thinking about the horrible smells almost made Oliver lurch over the tree stump near him, but luckily the tropical aroma steered clear of them and helped Oliver focus on the trail ahead.

However, as much as he enjoys hiking, Oliver never understood why their job is getting trickier at any minute.

First, they have to deal with ghosts, then Hellhounds, and to top it all off, Oliver and Amelia have to protect the entire class from demonic auras.

Wiping the sweat away from his forehead, Oliver continues looking at the map then followed the directions on how to get to Mermaid Creek.

Oliver and Amelia took a sharp right turn to an abandoned path then headed forward. The trees stood by silently as the duo strolled pass them.

In an instant, smells of cinnamon pine trees and wet mud replaced the fruity aroma making Oliver regret he took this path. He didn't know why, but the tropical scent reminded him of his mother's perfume.

One time, she told him that his father had given it to her on their fifth anniversary. Whenever she spritz it on her neck, Oliver's mother could remember her young husband wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her rosy cheeks, and tell her how much he loves her.

Reminiscing about his mother, Oliver wondered if she was doing okay without him.

Is she working late shifts at the bookstore? he wondered. Is she behind any payments?

Does she miss Oliver?

Dodging under a tree branch, Amelia asked Oliver: "do you have the map with you?"

Oliver nodded, holding out the thick, tan paper decorated in ink-black landscapes to Amelia. 

Landscapes, such as the Banquet Hall, campfire pit, creek, and cabins, were all scattered across the sheet, like splatter paint. 

However, surrounding them are small forest trees drawn in black ink. Everything was detailed to the tip of the paper: from intricate patterns of a burning wood to the Banquet Hall's porch steps.

If Oliver squints hard enough, he would see blotched images of hidden places through the painted trees, but unfortunately, whoever created this map had forgotten to write the names.

Continuing forward, Oliver looks at the paper for a quick second then offers it to Amelia, who was busy avoiding fat cockroaches squirming on the trails.

"Hey, Amelia."

"What?"

"Would you like to see the map for yourself?"