She tried to detect any lights, any movement in the area ahead. Unidentifiable animals scampered among the low-lying bracken. Henceforth, you carry flint with you. Chilly air seeped past the folds of her dress. She rubbed her hands together for warmth. Am I lost? Where in blazes is his castle?
More chittering arose. This time surrounding her; this time laden with grunts. Clarysa whipped her head around. What was that snapping noise? Small, inky-black shapes seemed to be drifting alongside the horse, but it was difficult to see anything clearly in the oppressive darkness. She rubbed her eyes. It was only bushes, a trick of the scant moonlight and its many shadows.
Apple reared high into the air, throwing Clarysa to the side. She slammed against a trunk. Pain exploded throughout her body as she tumbled to the ground. Strange noises erupted around her, sounding like gleeful titters. No wonder her horse had spooked; these were no ordinary nocturnal animals.
Dazed, Clarysa rose on shaky knees. “Apple?”
A soft neigh broke the silence, followed by the horse’s terrified shriek.
“Apple!”
Clarysa sprinted toward the sound. The horse lay a few yards distant. Something had brought her crashing to the ground. Dropping to her knees, Clarysa crawled forward. “Apple?”
The horse was still, but something else moved. Clarysa heard a squelching sound. A warm, metallic smell filled her nose. She inched closer. After reaching her horse, she slowly peered over Apple's back.
An imp squatted between its legs, feasting on the horse’s innards. At least, that’s what she thought it was. No larger than a small dog, its dark hide resembled those she’d seen in illustrations. But she wasn’t surrounded by warm candlelight and soft blankets, nor could she simply close a book to ward off the ghoulish image. Her current predicament was far more perilous.
The realization hit her like a rock: she had stumbled into Dungeon Forest.
She had difficulty catching her breath. Stellan had warned her about avoiding this place. Now she understood why. But she hadn’t meant to ignore his advice. Where had she gone wrong?
Noise interrupted her thoughts. The macabre scene before her wasn’t over yet. Blood gushed forth from Apple’s body, the surrounding snow soaking it up like a sponge. The imp, seemingly unaware of her, chomped mercilessly, at one point pulling hard at a resistant tendril of flesh. Clarysa gagged, then quickly covered her mouth.
It was too late. The creature turned. Blood dripped in torrents down its tiny chin. As their eyes met, its fangs spread wide in a vicious leer.
Scrambling to her feet, Clarysa ran. She ran like she had never run before.
Branches scratched her face as she pushed past them. “Stellan!” she shouted, then increased the volume. “Stellan!” It was pointless–he would never come. “Stellan!”
Clarysa cried his name until her voice grew hoarse. She darted about the forest for what seemed like an eternity. Fear drove her without mercy. Her straining lungs thirsted for air.
Farther and farther she ran, blindly, until an outstretched root sent her crashing earthward. “Oh no!” Pain shot through her ankle. Clarysa slumped to the ground, tearful and shaking. Keep going. If you stay here they’ll come and tear you apart!
But her legs refused to cooperate. Clarysa moaned. Why oh why had she taken the path? It had seemed the right choice at the time. The scolding voice of her eldest sister echoed in her head. “Why don’t you ever think before you act?” Then Stellan’s words came back to haunt her. “You must never take the path through the forest… It’s dangerously enchanted… Few people have passed through that forest and lived.”
Clarysa whimpered at the thought of being trapped in Dungeon Forest forever. But memories from the recent attack flashed into her mind. If she could find Stellan, there was a good chance lives could be saved–many, many lives. Resolve to stand filled her. She would find a way out of this hellish forest and complete her mission.
Reaching out an arm, she used a tree to prop herself up. Glancing up at the thin slice of moon visible through the trees, she charted a path roughly west. Gingerly, she tested some weight on her ankle. It felt swollen, but perhaps it was not broken. She could walk on it if she was careful.
Clarysa limped forward, but was forced to a stop. Her cloak had stuck on something. She turned around and gave it a tug.
A miniature two-legged creature sat on the edge, preventing her escape. Other than its wide, pale-lit blue eyes, Clarysa couldn’t make out any of its other features. With two tiny, but extremely strong hands, it tugged at her cloak in deliberate mockery.
First imps, now goblins? Clarysa attempted to steady her panicked breathing. Perhaps it was only her overactive imagination. She gave her cloak another tug. But the creature had an unnatural heaviness to it. It seemed to enjoy sitting right where it was. To struggle against it appeared futile.
Slowly, she eased the cloak from her shoulders. A quiet titter issued from the goblin’s mouth. Carefully… Almost there… Now run! Clarysa dropped the cloak, leaving it far behind as she stumbled away. A chorus of angry voices arose from the darkness around her.
The cold air stiffened her limbs, and the injured ankle only further impeded her progress. Onward and onward she ran, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. At a particularly crooked oak tree, she heard thumping noises from all around. A multitude of creatures suddenly dropped from the trees and dove toward her through the undergrowth.
Clarysa was surrounded.
All manner of nightmarish fiends closed in with glowing eyes and bared teeth. They snapped their jaws and slurped and smacked their lips. She avoided looking directly at them and ran. Given their small size, perhaps she had a chance of breaking through their ranks. Not so. Multiple hands latched on to her legs. Down she went once again. Death
