CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

THE VILLAGE

Abel handed Alexander a key that was twice the fairy’s size. “This will unlock the gate. You’ll have to find the lock. Good luck with that.”

Queen April gave Abel a reproving look and cleared her throat.

“Okay, we’ll unlock the gate,” Abel huffed. “But you and your friends need to look away.”

The gate made a sound similar to fingernails on a chalkboard as it opened, inch-by-inch, as hundreds of tiny fairies struggled with the massive gate. Alexander, always impatient, rushed forward to help the tiny stone fairies. Malley stopped him and shook his head at the boy.

“It would cause a world war if you were to interfere with this time-long tradition,” he whispered. “Be patient. Now is not the time for your shenanigans.”

Behind the gate was the forest, but the forest died centuries ago. Dark gray trees hung their leafless branches. It reminded Alexander of every horror story he’d ever read.

He looked at Malley, who was now a ghost-white shade of pale.

“Reminds me of Halloween,” Abby said with a half grin. “But we aren’t going trick-or-treating, and Morgan isn’t handing out candy.”

Malley said nothing. He remained frozen, still as a statue.

Alexander spun around to thank Queen April, but every one of the fairies had vanished, leaving no sign. Except for the open gate, you would never have known they were ever there.

                                                                 

Abby was less than pleased with the new scenery, not to mention Malley’s motionless state. She pointed over her shoulder at the leprechaun. “What’s up with him?”

“I don’t know. He’s been like this since they opened the forest.” Alexander waved his hand in front of Malley’s eyes. “Maybe one of the fairies hit him with a secret poisonous dart.”

“Figures. You can’t trust fairies.” Abby was twirling a strand of hair. “What’s next?”

“Don’t have a clue.” Alexander pinched Malley in the arm. “We need to wait.”

“Wait for what? For Malley to wake up?”

“Guess so,” Alexander said, gazing into the lifeless forest.

“My father has tortured people who have lapsed into comas,” Abby, standing next to him again.

“So,” replied Alexander, not caring who her father tortured as long as it wasn’t he.

 “It can take years for people to awaken from a coma if they don’t die first.”

Alexander sighed. “He isn’t gonna die.”

“How do you know? Are you a doctor or something?” She stamped her feet. “Malley might already be dead for all we know.”

“He’s not dead,” Alexander kicked Malley in the shins to prove his point.

Malley’s face frowned, which meant he obviously felt the kick. The forest held his attention. He just stared, mesmerized by the trees.

“This is becoming freaky. First, thousands of creepy fairies surround us. Then we come face to face with a forest straight out of Hansel and Gretel. Then Malley becomes a zombie,” Abby said.

Alexander recognized the irony. They were a girl and boy heading into a forest and their destruction at the hand of a witch.

“It’s far worse than you can imagine.”

“Malley, you’re alive,” they both screamed in unison.

Malley stumbled as if his short coma drained his strength. “It’s only been a legend until now,” he blurted out.

“What’s that? The creepy forest?” Abby hugged the leprechaun.

Malley backed away from the hug. “No. There is a legend of a leprechaun village that once flourished north of the copper mines.”

                                                                 

“I doubt there was ever a village here. It’s too spooky.” Alexander gazed beyond the trees.

“It was here. I know it. The leprechauns coexisted with the men, and they worked together, peacefully, in the mine.” Malley was still mesmerized.

Alexander tossed a rock into the trees. “And then the men killed them all?”

“No. They worked well with men for centuries until…” He wiped a tear away with a tissue from his pocket. “… until Morgan took over the mine and killed all the men and my kin.”

“Maybe Morgan didn’t kill any of them. Maybe she just made them all slaves.” Alex patted Malley on the head. “Don’t you feel better?”

Malley glared at Alexander. “Sure, you’ve been a great inspiration.” He gazed into the vast void of the forest in silence. “There has to be another way.”

Abby looked at Alexander with her vivid blue eyes as if all the answers came from his mouth. “There’s no other way. Isn’t that right, Alex?”

“Don’t ask me. I don’t have all the answers.” Alexander freaked out. “Stop looking at me like that. I don’t even know all the questions.”

“The two of you quit your bickering,” Malley said with a snap of his fingers.

Abby stuck out her tongue.

                                                                 

An icy wind rushed at them from the forest. A cold chill froze the three to the bone.

It feels like I’m eating ice cream in a blinding snowstorm, Alexander thought.

Abby, still in her red shorts, shook like a china cabinet in an earthquake. “I’m so cold.”

“Sorry, I can do nothing about the cold. There is no way to plan for such calamities.” Malley got on his knees and placed his ear on the ground. “I need silence.”

Alexander retreated to the mouth of the gaping canyon. Abby tried to stop her knees from banging together like cymbals.

Thirty minutes passed. The wind grew colder. Abby was sure frostbite ate her toes, and Alexander did his best to ignore the dim light glowing at the bottom of the crevice.

“He fell asleep,” Abby whispered loud enough for Alexander, fifteen feet away, to hear her.

“I’m not asleep, thank you, Abby,” Malley groaned. “I found out all I need to know,” he dusted himself.

“And?” the others said in unison.

“Obviously, we are in a bit of a bind, but not as bad as you would think.” He blew his nose and continued before any other interruptions. “The cold air comes from spirits of my ancestors.”

“Sorry, I guess I was wrong. Morgan killed them,” Alex said out of the blue.

Malley ignored the disturbance. “They apologize for the discomfort, but they have been dead for a long time and cannot create heat.”

“You’re forgiven,” Abby yelled past the door to the spirits.

“Yes, yes, apologies accepted.” Malley cleared his throat. “They have offered to escort us through the forest.”

Abby looked relieved. “Will it get any warmer?”

“I’m afraid not, as the spirits can’t help their condition. We don’t have time to find another way,” he said, talking to Alexander.

“You’re not telling us everything, are you?” Alex remained skeptical. “How can we trust that your spooky relatives will lead us through the forest and avoid Morgan’s Lair?”

Malley lowered his head before speaking, “I’m trying to avoid the unavoidable. The forest leads straight to Morgan’s doorstep.” Malley looked into the woods, shook his head before saying another word.

“And?”

“One of the messenger rats got free. We can’t go around the witch. She’s expecting us… and so is King Boyce.”