Fated Fantasy Adventure

by Humphrey Quinn

  Where was she? What the heck was she doing? Would she even be able to find her way back out of this place? It took her a minute, but she stepped out from behind the tree and peered down into the gully. She ducked back again when something moved below, between two of the huts. Cautiously, her head slid out from behind the tree.

  “No one can actually live here, can they?” she muttered to herself. It looked more like a hideout. Or compound.

  She ducked back when two ghosts came around the far end of the huts, floating around the perimeter. Guards, she assumed. Keeping watch. “Over what? Is the question.”

  Meghan didn’t know how she’d do it, but she needed to get down there and see what was going on. Nona had led her here for a reason. How this was related to Colin, or the book, she couldn’t even imagine.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Nona,” she whispered. She looked down at her feet but the Catawitch wasn’t there. “Nona?” she called out in a loud whisper. “Well that’s just great.” Her shoulders slumped and she let out a huff. “Not even my loyal Catawitch stayed with me.”

  She was nowhere to be found. Meghan decided it didn’t matter at this point. She’d figure out what was going on. She hoped she hadn’t misread Nona, and the cat hadn’t really brought her here because she was scrounging up a mouse or something.

  Meghan shook her head. “No. She wanted me to see something.” She peered down into the huts, hoping to understand why Nona had led her to this place. She inched her way closer, but still couldn’t make out much more. She got down on the ground and crawled little by little, when she spotted a fallen tree about ten feet ahead of her. It still had some pine needles on it.

  “Maybe I can hide in there,” she whispered, crawling along the ground. She saw the perfect spot, a hollow big enough for her to... Meghan froze, hitching her breath.

  Her gaze followed a shoe, attached to a leg, which crawled backwards out of the very hollow she was heading for.

  The smallest noise would alert this person to her presence. Meghan desperately searched for another place to hide. She’d have to get up and run; it was sure to cause a racket.

  A second leg backed out of the tree. Her eyes widened and nostrils flared as she realized it was too late. She was on her hands and knees, facing the backside of her unknown companion.

  She went to push backwards, but a hand reached back to pull itself away from the tree, and instead of finding ground, it landed on Meghan’s face. She did not budge, every muscle perfectly still. Breath held.

  What if this was the person responsible for hurting Colin?

  The hand didn’t move from her face.

  Meghan imagined whoever it was, they were in shock just like her.

  The hand dropped slowly and a sickly face turned toward her. In unison, and too loudly, both parties cried out, “Meghan!” “Ivan!”

  Ivan dragged Meghan into the tree hollow; it was a tight fit, which neither of them were pleased about. The two ghost guards belted over the huts looking for the perpetrators of the noise. After a minute, the ghosts were satisfied that they had heard nothing and went back to their normal rounds.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded in a loud whisper.

  “I should ask you the same thing. Why was your brother attacked?”

  She refused to answer, not sure whether to trust him or not.

  “I’ve been tracking Colin’s attacker,” Ivan acknowledged, seeing her determination not to speak.

  “What! Why?”

  “The Balaton are looking for an insider. I think it was an outside job. Any reason you can think of as to why that might be, Ms. Jacoby?” he asked curtly.

  And to think, I was beginning to believe he might be human, she thought.

  A stern faced Ivan waited for her reply.

  “I have no clue who attacked my brother,” she stated. “Nona led me here.”

  His eyes widened. “That’s a good sign, then.” He turned back to the ghosts.

  “Do you have any idea what’s going on here?” she asked him.

  “Best guess is that they’re guarding something. I came into Grimble to ask around a bit. Started talking about the attack with a couple of ghosts in town, and spied another listening close by. He took off all a sudden like, seemed suspicious to me so I followed him here.”

  Meghan’s first thoughts led to Colin’s book. Could it be in the mud huts? Maybe this had nothing at all to do with Darcy, or Garner Sadorus. Perhaps this had something to do with Duppy, the hideous looking ghost that had confronted them about the book as well.

  Meghan was about to speak when Ivan cupped her mouth and put fingers to his own. “Shh.” The ghost guard was coming around again.

  Meghan still wasn’t sure if she could trust Ivan or not, but she was glad at least, not to be alone. She waited until the ghosts had rounded the next corner, and decided to be bold; she would have to if she was going to talk Ivan into invading the huts with her.

  “Ivan, can ghosts or anyone from Grimble get into the wagons?”

  He frowned. “Not supposed to.” He didn’t sound confident that it couldn’t happen.

  “It was over a book,” she admitted.

  “Your brother was attacked over a book? Are you sure?”

  “Positive. It’s not a monetary thing, well, it could be I guess. It’s what’s in the book that matters. I think.” She bit her lip and shrugged. Eddy hadn’t really told her much.

  “We need to get closer,” he decided.

  “Any ideas on how to do that?” she asked, glad he had not instantly abandoned her.

  “I’ve been spying for hours, and those two ghosts doing rounds take a good couple of minutes on the other side. Do you see that small alley there?” he pointed in between two of the huts. “I can’t quite tell, but I think there’s a cart or something we might be able to hide in.”

  “Okay,” she agreed without argument.

  He nodded, shushing her again as the ghosts came back around. They waited, ready to spring for the alley as soon as the ghosts were out of sight. Meghan went first, dashing through the other side of the tree, followed by Ivan.

  They reached the alley. It was a cart, but it was filled with skunky smelling rags.

  “I can’t get in that,” she complained.

  Ivan pushed her in, landing beside her.

  “Breathe already,” he chided. “It’s bad, but I’ve smelled worse,” he added, pulling a stinky rag over them, for cover. He let out a low chuckle.

  “You’re getting quite the kick out of this, aren’t you?” she pouted.

  His dry, arrogant smile answered her question.

  “I’m going to need a major bath after this,” she moaned.

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  She shot him a scowl.

  They cautiously peeked up over the edge and into the compound. Two ghosts played poker with a ghostly deck of cards.

  “You’re cheating,” accused a scrawny ghost.

  “I ain’t been cheatin'! You take it back,” demanded a short, chubbier ghost.

  “I won’t,” the scrawny one goaded. The chubby one responded by throwing his cards at the scrawny one.

  A familiar ghost appeared, scolding the players.

  “Will the two of you idiots shut the hell up! We got a big operation going on here. Go do your rounds.”

  “Duppy!” Meghan asserted coldly. “He confronted Colin and me,” she explained, realizing Ivan wouldn’t understand.

  “The secrets keep piling up, don’t they?”

  “I’ll explain later,” she huffed.

  Footsteps approached.

  “Do you hear that?” she asked.

  “Yes, not a ghost, either,” answered Ivan. “It’s coming our way,” he warned.

  They held their breath as the footsteps passed by their rank hiding spot. Meghan took a daring glance over the edge. Whoever it was, they were dressed in a deep red, hooded cloak. They were breathing heavy, like they’d just run hard; the figure
stopped for a second, letting their breath calm. After a moment, it continued, stalking around the corner.

  Duppy floated haughtily to meet the hooded figure.

  “At last,” he said in a growling voice. “’Bout time, too, my employer grows impatient.”

  The hooded figure silently took a package from within its robes and laid it on a table sitting in the middle of the hut compound. Meghan’s gut told her it was the Magicante. It was the perfect size to match it.

  Duppy hovered over the package, rubbing his hands together greedily. “My employer will be pleased,” he sneered, pointing to an envelope on the table. “Payment in full.”

  The hooded figure grasped the envelope emptying the contents; it was a roll of paper. Or maybe an actual scroll; Meghan couldn’t get a close enough look.

  “It’s not money,” she muttered, wondering what was so important about those papers that it was worth hurting her brother over.

  The cloaked figure indicated he was satisfied and turned to leave. Meghan and Ivan ducked back into their stinky rag hideout until the footsteps of the living person were out of range.

  “Don’t know about you,” said Ivan, “but I’ve had enough of stinky rags.” He bounded bravely out of the bin, landing with a soft thud.

  “Don’t need to say that twice,” she retorted, following him, although not quite so gracefully. Her confidence was high though, knowing that ghosts couldn’t harm her, and the living figure had left.

  Duppy saw them instantly. His mouth turned up in a scowl. “Guard the package,” he ordered in a growl.

  “How?” the two poker playing ghosts asked. “We’re ghosts, we can’t touch it.”

  “You imbeciles! Maybe they weren’t aware of that. Besides, I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Another, very much alive, hooded figure exited one of the huts.

  All Meghan could see was the figure’s eyes; a fierce shade of blue.

  “Okay, wasn’t prepared for that,” breathed out Ivan. “Hope you’re ready for battle.”

  “Battle? You do realize I suck at magic, right?”

  Ivan rolled his eyes at her. “It’s probably not a good idea to let your opponent know that.”

  “Oops!” she grimaced.

  “Meghan,” he said in all seriousness. “I haven’t seen what this guy can do, but if I can’t take him you’ll be on your own.”

  Meghan knew he was right. “Just tell me what to do.” She let out a shaky breath. This was nothing like fighting bullies for her brother. Someone could get seriously hurt. Mainly her.

  “Concentrate. Allow the energy to fill you, and then let it out. Preferably on the other guy, not me, if you don’t mind.”

  “This is not a good time for insults, Ivan.”

  “I wasn’t. You knock me out by accident, and you’re left...”

  “Alone! I get it!” she said heatedly. “I’m not completely stupid, Ivan.”

  He shrugged, leaving her side. The hooded figure, who wasn’t much taller than Meghan, observed their every move, all while guarding the package. Ivan worked his way around the inside perimeter of the mud huts.

  “No other people,” he mouthed to Meghan. Ivan began his interrogation. “What do you want with that package?” There was no answer.

  Meghan crept around the opposite side of the huts, happening across a ghost locked in a cell. “Timothy! What are you doing here?”

  “I knew one of you would find me,” he boasted, relieved to see a familiar face.

  “Sit tight. I’ll get you out, okay. How are they holding you, Timothy? You’re a ghost.”

  “Magic, I guess. I’ve been stuck here two weeks.” Meghan kept her eye on the hooded figure and Ivan, while she tried to free Timothy. The hooded figure stepped closer to the room where Timothy was imprisoned. Meghan did not think it was possible, but Timothy, already dead, turned paler than he already was. He backed into the farthest corner possible.

  “Watch out, not nice,” Timothy said, hiding his eyes.

  “Sit tight, Timothy. I won’t leave you, okay.”

  With swift movement, the hooded figure jumped onto the table standing over the package. He snapped his fingers and a host of ghosts materialized, swirling overhead. He motioned for them to attack.

  They dove from all directions. The ghosts might not be able to use magic on the living; however, being saturated with the cold feeling of death each time a ghost sliced through their bodies was definitely a distraction. After a minute, the ghosts ended their attack, rising above, swirling around waiting for orders.

  Meghan and Ivan shook off the shudders creeping through them. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but it couldn’t do any lasting damage.

  “I need to get that package,” Meghan said decidedly. The moment she said it, the hooded figure glanced her direction, his shocking blue eyes squinting at her.

  He towered over the book, ordering the ghosts to attack again. As soon as Ivan found a brief pause in the attack, he threw his arm, palm out, at the hooded figure, who was not expecting the blow. It knocked him off his feet, down over the side of the table and skidding across the ground.

  Meghan jumped at the chance to get closer. As she reached out to grab the package, she saw the hooded figure push up the sleeves of the robe, revealing young looking arms underneath. Were they fighting a child? A teen maybe, definitely not an adult.

  This discovery did not stop the battle. The robed child fought back, shooting a heavy blow toward Ivan, who blocked it. Meghan grabbed the package and fled back to Timothy. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ivan fly through the air, straight through a ghost, and land hard against a wall.

  She called out his name as he hit the ground. Hard.

  The robed child noticed that Meghan held the package and lunged at her. She panicked, unable to focus and collect the energy to produce any magic. Ivan picked up his head and with his last bit of strength, sent a blow toward their enemy. It was only enough of a blow to give Meghan the smallest of head starts.

  “Run,” yelled Timothy. “I can’t die again, get out of here.”

  She didn’t want to leave, but perhaps she could run and find her uncle, and he could rescue Timothy.

  She spotted the closest exit.

  The ghosts began diving for her.

  Then she saw Ivan sprawled on the ground. He was not moving.

  “No. I’m not leaving,” she decided. She spun around and cried out, “STOP!”

  Taken off guard by the command, the ghosts froze and waited for orders. The hooded child halted ten feet in front of her, watching intently.

  “Tell me who you are, and why you want this book,” she breathed heavily. There was still no answer. “I know you’re just a child,” she taunted.

  A young male voice spoke. He was stern and strong but calm and confident.

  “Not that it matters, but I just turned fourteen, hardly a child. You should concern yourself with the fact that I am stronger than you, and my master will have that book.”

  Just then, a familiar Catawitch jostled around the boy’s legs.

  “You,” whispered Meghan. Her instincts back in Cobbscott had been right. The Catawitch Jae had caught visiting her, was evil.

  “Hello Meghan,” she purred.

  “This is your master? This boy?” asked Meghan. The robed child winced at the word, boy.

  “I told you he wanted to meet you. You should have listened when you had the chance.”

  “Who is your master, then?” she demanded of the young man. “What’s his business with my brother’s book?” He refused to answer, and inside Meghan’s head the echo of a voice erupted.

  “Oh, not now, Colin. It couldn’t be a worse time for you to contact me.” She wanted terribly to hear his voice, and respond, but even more desperate right now to get his book back and survive.

  The ghosts above were getting restless. Ivan was still completely limp and unconscious on the ground. Timothy remained stuck in his prison.

  “I need help,” she ut
tered despondently.

  Everything slowed.

  Sort of like someone had ordered everyone to move in slow motion.

  Then it all just stopped.

  Nothing moved forward. Not even Meghan.

  It was as if time stood still. Paused for a moment.

  The locket Meghan wore around her neck, the two roses entwined with pointy thorns, began to radiate golden beams of light. They shot out of the locket forming into a silhouette; the shape of a woman sleeping soundly on a feather.

  She awakened. And arose. Her graceful figure basked in light as she approached Meghan, whispering softly in her ear.

  “Help is coming. You’re not alone and you are ready for this, Meghan. You will know what to do. Help is coming...” She backed away, reclaimed by sleep atop the feather. Her shimmering image regressing back into the locket.

  Chaos screamed back to life.

  Meghan took a deep breath as the ghosts began diving.

  The young man in the hood with the piercing blue eyes strode menacingly toward her.

  “Ghost candy,” she remembered in a flash. “I can use it to do a spell against the ghosts and then the kid can’t touch me! At least for thirty seconds.” She reached into her skirt pocket; she had just three pieces left.

  “Here goes nothing.” She popped a piece into her mouth just as the hooded young man shot off a spell aimed right at her. The transformation took place just in the nick of time, the spell ripping straight through her ghostly frame. He appraised her, impressed by the unexpected move.

  The ghosts didn’t expect it either and stopped their attack, hovering all around her, unsure what to do. Meghan focused hard, determined to take out a few of them. Ghostly energy raged around her; she found it easier to collect than when in human form. She held out her hand and spoke the Sphaera spell she’d seen her Uncle Eddy use on Duppy. The energy pulled itself into a perfect sphere.

  The ghosts saw it and swarmed.

  Meghan threw it away from her body. There were so many ghosts, it hit one straight on, blasting it into a million ghostly bits.

  “I did it!” she bellowed, hurrying to collect another sphere. Time was short. She’d turn back into her human self soon.

  “Bring her down,” ordered Duppy, wretchedly.