Eliza Twitchel & The Haunted Forest

Eliza Twitchel & The Haunted Forest--Chapter 20

                                            Never Pet A Kelpie

Eliza's butt ached from riding all morning on a roan mare that wasn't nearly as pleasant as her piebald Tinker horse.  Twice it had tried to throw her off and on several occasions reared its head back and chomped its teeth.

Plodding ahead of her on a black warhorse every bit as large as the steed carrying the stuffed troll king in Queen Grimmina's trophy room sat the ogre Fanghorn.  His massive helmeted head swiveled side-to-side as he scoured the surrounding woods.

Eliza took a deep whiff of cool air.  Along with the sweet scent of oak and maple, a sour stench stung her nose.  It wasn't hard tracing its source.  She looked over her shoulder at the ten redcaps riding horses with coal-black eyes that matched those of their corpse-white riders.

One of the redcaps leered at her, his mouth widening to reveal several yellow teeth amid jagged stumps where other teeth had broken off.  Eliza quickly turned back around to see several gobblings ride up to Fanghorn on large dire wolves.  The gobblings were ugly creatures: black and green mottled skin, yellow eyes, their hairless, wiry bodies clad in animal fur.  They carried bows and quivers filled with black arrows. Short swords hung at their sides.

One of them spoke to Fanghorn with clicks, grunts, chitters and growls.  The ogre grunted and waved off the wolves and riders who disappeared into the woods. 

Eliza hated gobblings even more than she hated redcaps.  It was gobblings, after all, who kidnapped Phoebe and took her to the Haunted Forest to sell like a sack of flour or pound of cheese to the wicked witches. As frightening as Fanghorn was, at least she could reason with him.  There was no reasoning with a gobbling.

"So . . . Mr. Fanghorn," Eliza said as she nudged her horse closer to the warhorse.  "You're an ogre, huh? I never met an ogre before.  There's this kid—Donnie Baker—He comes close.  We go to the same school.  He's a total crustacean."

Fanghorn turned and glared at Eliza.  "Shut it!"  He bellowed.  Eliza's horse panicked and reared up, nearly throwing her off.  Behind her, the redcaps snickered.

Eliza's heartstone flashed bright green as she fumed.  A wry smile twisted her lips.  Behind her, one of the redcaps cried out in alarm as his horse began bucking.  He held tight to the reins as the horse raced under the thick bough of an elm tree, knocking the guard to the ground.

Eliza snickered as she watched the guard stumbling around, holding his head. A menacing growl rumbled behind her.  She looked forward to see Fanghorn glaring at her.  She grinned and shrugged.  "What?"

The ogre nudged his warhorse next to Eliza's mount.  It took all her persuasion to keep the roan mare from bolting in terror.

"I know about dryad tricks, Halfling," he growled.  He reached back and pulled his long-handled battle-axe from its scabbard.  The double-sided steel blade glinted in the dappled light.  "Do not test me." He extended the axe's blade toward Eliza's neck, then reined his horse around and rode off.

Eliza felt her throat.  She was wrong—there was something worse than gobblings. 

***

Jynx stood at the edge of a leafy forest, staring down a rocky hillock toward Castle Malweryn.  Even from this distance, he could see sentries patrolling the castle's black basalt battlements beneath strategically placed turrets.