by Kathryn Moon
The witch picked up the small metal ornate bell. The sound it made was an ethereal tinkle and as she held it delicately between her fingers and looked at it she smiled. “This may just be the thing to get her to leave the water and step back onto land. Come with me, shall we go and find out?”
The left the room and walked down to the small stream which ran behind the house. There was a humped back bridge over it. One of those rough stone ones which always look ancient.
The witch went to the part of the river where there was a copse of trees. She looked around nervously and whispered. “Now if we hide in here quietly and if I can lure her out we can then leap out and catch her.”
The witch waited until they were all well hidden and the animals and birds had settled down. Gradually the normal nature noises returned and everything was still. Fluffy white clouds drifted aimlessly across the sky. The sun shone down. Butterflies fluttered. Birds flittered about looking for a meal. The plants grew unseen and the warmth of the sun on their face made Abigail almost forget what she was hiding in the trees for.
The witch then rang the bell. It was a small sound but on a still day it was easy to hear it. The tinny, silvery sound was out of place and as she rang it again there was silence. Then she stopped ringing it and the silence was almost deafening.
They waited and waited. She rang it again as they intently watched the water. As they watched the water a fish’s fin broke the surface. The fish was swimming around a small pool in the rocks, a deeper part of the river. Around and around it swam. Its fin broke the surface then its nose and then its mouth.
The witch rang the bell again as the fish seemed to be losing interest and almost swam away. It then swam back and was back in the pool. Its fin broke the surface, its nose broke the surface and then the witch moved like lightning. Abigail didn’t see her move but the next thing she saw was the witch flipping the fish out of the water.
The fish landed on the bank and flapped furiously but the witch had her foot on its large tail. It flapped and flapped and gasped for water. Its mouth was open wide and its eyes looked about in fear.
Abigail noticed that there was a large fish hook stuck in its mouth. She thought momentarily and then leapt from where she was hiding. “Look, your husband’s hook is still in its mouth. Perhaps if we take the hook out the fish will forgive him and break the curse?”
The witch smiled. “You could be right.” She reached down and held the fish down with one hand and then pulled the hook from the fish’s mouth.
The fish still flapped but not so furiously. It was exhausted and suffering from being out of the water.
The witch looked down at the fish. “If you break the curse you put on my husband I will free you.”
The fish opened and shut its mouth.
At that moment the beast came running from the house. As he ran he changed. The beast disappeared and a handsome man appeared. He was tall and thin and dashing. His black hair was long and his nails unkempt but he was handsome. He was the prince again.
He ran over to where they were and looked down at the fish. He then pulled his knife and cut the fish’s head off. “We will dine well tonight.”
The witch glared at him in horror. “But she broke the curse.”
The ex beast shrugged. “So what, she is a fish. We will now eat the fish.” He took the fish from his shocked wife and carried it to the house.
The witch looked at Abigail in horror. “I didn’t think he would do that.” She then followed him back to the house and Abigail and Kalifa followed as well.
They stood outside and they could hear the sound of raised voices inside. The witch was shouting very loudly and then there was a loud explosion, a puff of green smoke and the witch was heard laughing, or more accurately cackling.
Abigail stood on tip toes and looked in through the window. The green smoke cleared and the witch was standing in the middle of the kitchen and was just bending down to pick up a large toad which sat on the wooden floor looking stunned.
The witch looked up and saw Abigail. “Come in, I won’t hurt you.”
Abigail and Kalifa walked in through the kitchen door. The room was still neat and tidy once the green smoke had cleared. All manner of copper pans hung from an airer over the range stove and the big wooden country kitchen table was clean and tidy.
The witch sat down at the table and put the toad on a towel. “Sit down, don’t worry, he won’t hurt you. He won’t hurt anyone again. You are right, it is hard to live with someone like that. He was better as the beast as that kept him away from people but he was a nasty and vain creature before he became the beast. As a toad he will be able to harm nobody.”
Abigail hadn’t realized that she was staring at the toad. “But you turned him into a toad.”
The witch smiled. “He always was a toad, a mean and nasty toad. My magic is white magic, I cannot harm someone who is kind and good and my magic only does what it is necessary to do.
In his handsome form he would be able to return to his father. His father is a good and kind king. The son is a cruel and vicious spoilt brat who would in time grow to envy his father’s position and wish power. He has the ability to kill and his father would be in danger. Instead of a kind king and the benevolent rule of his younger son after his days are over we would have this creature on the throne. No, that cannot happen. So I turned him into a toad. Which is the last curse of the river nymph.”
Abigail looked at the toad in horror. “But he is trapped in a toad’s body now. Isn’t that cruel?”
The witch shook her head. “I am a white witch. He is not trapped in a toad’s body, that would indeed be cruel. He is a toad. As far as he knows he has always been a toad and he always will be a toad. There is nothing of the man in him left. I will now return him to the river bank and he will live his years out there.”
Abigail looked at the slightly disheveled witch. Her face was smutted by the green smoke and her apron was patched with green. Her white dress was stained and she looked very tired. “Well what will happen to you?”
The witch smiled. “Nothing will happen to me. I will go on living here. Now I must help you as you loaned me your bell.” She gave Abigail the bell back and she put it in the bag. “You want to go home. To do that you will have to cross the dimensions and take yourself back to the time just before you eat the peach. Yes I know about the peach. You have to stop yourself doing it and then you will never have been here. But as time is like that, all that you do here will remain done. So don’t think you can do what you like here.”
Abigail looked puzzled. “So how do I cross the dimensions? Can you use your magic?”
The witch shook her head. “No, that takes having a machine. You will have to go and see the great wizard. He has machines like that. You have something in your favour though. That crystal in your bag is one of the crystals which powers his machine. I can draw you a map of how to get to him but you will have to pass through dangerous places to get there. But I think you probably know that.”
Abigail nodded and looked down at Kalifa. “Yes, I had thought that it wouldn’t be easy.”
The witch smiled. “Well you have one crystal but you will need others. You will have to go and see the woman who lives in the mountain with her small friends. They mine crystals which are used for power. If you can get some of their crystals then you will be able to use them to bargain with the magician. But, they guard their crystals well and they do not trade with anyone.
The woman is very angry and spiteful as her family abandoned her and tried to murder her. She doesn’t trust royalty so I cannot come with you.
She is cursed that one day a prince will come and she will be taken from her happy life and will have to go and take up the duties of being a princess. So whatever you do make sure you do not mention that you are a princess.
She loves sewing as she makes all the clothes for her seven little friends. You have a thimble there, you may be able to trade that for what you want.
Sh
e lives just north of the wizened wood. Of course getting through the wood won’t be easy as it is full of wood nymphs. But you have something in your bag they will like, you have that crystal in a pod. You may be able to trade that for safe passage. Or they may kill you.
Would you like more tea?”
Abigail was stunned. “Yes please.”
4
The wood was dark and spooky. The undergrowth was thick, forcing them to zig zag to find their way through and the tree canopy blocked out most of the sunlight.
The undergrowth was like nothing Abigail had seen before. The bushes were strange black fungus like growths and the damp loam smelt of almonds. This became sickening after a while as it was all she could smell.
The tree trunks were black and seemed to be coated with an oily substance and the holes in the trees were obviously occupied.
Things moved in the periphery of her vision and things slithered out of her way in the distance. Black slug like creatures hung on the bushes, munching on the fibrous tendrils which made up the bushes.
The bear was back with them and the three of them walked closely together, looking from left to right, in front and behind.
In one of the tree trunk holes Abigail saw a tiny hand and big black eyes momentarily before they disappeared back inside.
Abigail was terrified and this wasn’t helped as a black smoke swirled around her feet and then became solid in front of her. The smoke became a person. The person was dressed in a black cloak. All that could be seen was a pair of glowing red eyes.
She didn’t know what to do then she remembered what the witch has said. Her mind was racing as this couldn’t be the wood nymph. She had imagined pretty wooded glades, rabbits skipping about and a unicorn or two. This dark and awful place could not be where a wood nymph lived.
She reached into the bag and took out the acorn like necklace and held it out to the creature.
The creature laughed and reached for it. Dark, oily, sinuous fingers reached for the trinket. Long clawed nails barely touched the necklace when there was a flurry of movement and a very loud. “Whoo hoo”.
The black creature was knocked sideways by a large white horse which seemed to come from nowhere. The horse was ridden by what Abigail had always thought an elf would look like. She was tall and thin. Her ears were archetype pointed. Her gown suitably diaphanous and her horse suitably noble, white with hairy feet and as it landed with a snort, having knocked the black creature to the ground it pawed the ground with its hooves.
The elf reached down from the heady heights of the huge horse and snatched the trinket from Abigail’s hand. “Thank you, I think I’ll take that. You want passage through the woodland? Very well. Go on, get on with it. Nothing will touch you.”
She then rode off, purposefully knocking the black creature over again as she went.
The dark creature got to his feet, dusted himself down and swore in a language Abigail did not understand but she understood the tone. He then turned and faced her. “Oh well, it was pretty. I wanted that but she always gets all the presents. Go on then, you are free to travel through the wood. Toll paid.” He turned as if to go.
Abigail was stunned but she pulled herself around enough to be able to speak. “Who are you?”
The creature stopped and turned. “Well, you want to speak to me. That is amazing in itself. I am the spirit of the wood. This is the Heart of the Dark Wood from which all the greenery comes. Walk on a bit, you will come to the pretty green bit which I am sure you are here to see.”
Abigail looked at the man, as a man was what he was. Like the elf, pointed ears, black robes which were now dirty. “You live here?”
The man smiled. “Don’t be so derogatory of my home. Yes, I live here. We live here. Me and my friends and family.”
Abigail tried to hide her obvious surprise. “Forests are different where I come from.”
The man laughed heartily. “There are forests and there are forests. This is a fungal forest which lives on the damp which is around here. To us it is beautiful. Look at those structures.”
Abigail looked up with different eyes. She looked into the darkness and saw how the light cascaded through the sinuous canopy. It was truly magnificent. Like a huge stained glass window of intricate design. She looked at the bushes and instead of seeing something black and slimy she saw impossibly thin filaments which wove and twisted to make intricate natural designs like spun sugar.
Wherever she looked she saw an amazing world of black and white. White marble rocks poked from the black loam. The light sparkled on the white quartz.
The man smiled. “Now you are seeing it how someone who is unafraid sees it. That is the same as with many things. You see them as being ugly because you are afraid of them. If you look at the beauty of the night you will never be afraid of it.”
Abigail looked down at her shoes again. “I was very afraid of the night and the garden at night.”
The man smiled kindly. She could see his face now. It was a beautiful face, the face of an elf. “You fear the garden at night because it looks different and sounds different. What is there to be afraid of? That you would fall? That there would be wicked creatures there?
In a world like you come from. Yes I know of your world. I don’t like it but I know if it. What you fear is what might be lurking in the dark. Those are the things that man puts into the dark. Nature didn’t put them there. Nature is very straightforward and you have killed off the things that would naturally kill you in the dark. No more wolves lurk in the shadows. No more bears hunt for food. You live in a world where the greatest fear is man. And that is the best reason to fear the night and the day.”
Abigail shrugged. “I suppose so. I don’t like the dark as I can’t see what is hiding there.”
The man smiled. “Why should there be anything hiding there? Does your fear put something there?”
Abigail smiled. “I suppose you are right. I fear the house at night too. It is noisy. Creatures crawl about. I can hear the floorboards moving.”
The man looked down on her kindly. “When a tree is living it grows and it is silent. When she dies and is cut up to make a house she has a voice. A plank will make a noise if you step on it. It gets warm, it gets cold. You walk on it and then it must settle. Old houses settle. They creak at night and pipes make noises. You are making so much noise in the day that you don’t notice them. At night when there are no other noises you then notice them. It is the same with your woodlands.
The spirits of the woodland and houses have their own time. You are supposed to be in bed. As long as you stay where you should be then everyone will be happy.”
Abigail smiled. “You sound like my father.”
The man laughed. “Well I’m someone’s father. Not your father but father to my children. You are trying to get home. How did you get here?”
Abigail’s smile fell from her face. “I was a very naughty girl. My father had invented a machine which created a peach. I wanted the peach. So I sneaked into his laboratory and I eat the peach. Then tendrils came out of the peach stone and dragged me into the peach and here I am. So now I want to go home.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “So you eat the proof that your father had succeeded in his experiment and before he could run tests on that peach to see if it was safe. You were indeed a very naughty girl.”
Abigail bit her lip. “I know and I am sorry. I just want to go home.”
The man looked down at her. “I am sure that your father wants you home too. He will forgive you if you are sorry. If the machine made one peach it can make another. He only has one of you. He could make another but it wouldn’t be you. So you must find your way home.”
Abigail looked into her bag. There wasn’t much left as she knew she had to keep the crystal and the thimble. “Does she always take things you are given?”
The man smiled. “She is a Light Elf. They are used to gifts.”
Abigail tipped the contents of the pouch into her hand and put
them into her pocket. She then offered the man the bag. “Here, you should have something. Would you like the bag?”
The man took the bag. “Thank you, you are kind. Now you should go on your way. I hope you have learnt not to steal from your father and to listen to your parents.” 5
Abigail and her friends walked on through the dark wood. It was far less frightening now and they passed the time spotting creatures which leapt, slithered and flittered away from them.
The path wound around trees and they had to jump three small streams.
The black trees gradually became more green until they were walking in an idyllic sylvan woodland. The dark and slithery creatures became less. They were replaced by white rabbits, pretty birds and they caught sight of a pair of unicorns in the distance before they galloped off.
The squelchy loam of the dark wood became the firm lawn like path of the light wood. The blackened bushes became the green fronds of ferns and the echoing silence transformed into the cacophony of twittering and animal sounds of the light wood.
The sun beamed down like spotlights through the leafy tree cover. Insects filled the air. What looked like bees and butterflies flittered about their business, visiting the multicoloured flowers which lay like a carpet either side of the path.
The air smelt of the heady aroma of their scent. Floral with a hint of musk. The loam of the soil beneath adding its damp aroma.
The path became longer grass and as they walked along Abigail ran her hands through it. Her fingertips ran over the blades as they pushed their way through.
Kalifa was trotting just behind her, bouncing over the taller grass and taking the odd bite as she went along. The bear as always walked slowly and silently behind them. He didn’t say much, he just plodded on.
Small fairy creatures were watching them. They could see them sitting on branches and in holes in the bowls of trees. They flew from branch to branch. Their gossamer wings carrying them effortlessly through the warm air.
It was noticeably warmer, noticeably brighter and noticeably prettier. The woodland looked manicured and planned.
