Fellowship & Fairydust

No, Greg had not been eaten. As a matter of fact, he was about to find out that his frog had been named well and really was lucky. About a couple of minutes before they had their first sights of the village, Jeremiah managed to slip out of Greg’s grasp and jumped off the path. Without thinking, Greg ran off after him. He didn’t even think of calling out Jeremiah’s name until he was a distance away from the path. 

“Jeremiah! Jeremiah! Come back! Jeremiah!” Greg paused. “Aw, but, what if that’s not actually his name? He probably wouldn’t even come back.” He sighed. “And now I’ve lost my lucky frog.” He pouted. “But was he really lucky if he wasn’t named right? I mean, I have had a bunch of bad luck so far.” 

“What do you mean? What lucky frog?” 

Greg gasped as he looked around. “Who’s there? Bert? Betty? Ace? Acheson?” 

“Who?” 

“My brother and sister, and two of these Pan-Pank …”

A boy of about twelve with a slight twinge of orange in his golden hair dropped from the trees to stand in front of him. His sharp blue-green eyes scrutinized Greg. He was dressed in a light orange shirt, light brown, ragged jeans, brown boots, with a sword hanging from his belt and a straw hat on his head. “Wait? Do you mean Colton Acheson and Ace Gerling? As in, two of Pankow’s men?” 

Greg gasped. “Yeah! You know them?” 

“Yeah, but who are you and why were you with them?” 

“Oh, hi, I’m Greg and I, uh, well, we came here through a portal we found in the woods behind our backyard and … they captured us.” He blinked and turned around. “And they were supposed to be taking us to … Pottsville? But my frog slid out of my arms and I ran after him.” Greg sighed. “But now I lost him.” 

“Why were they taking you and your brother and sister to Pottsville?” 

Greg blinked. “Uh, they were going to release some bugs that eat pumpkins …” 

“What?” exclaimed the boy. He floated off the ground and swooped in to pick up Greg. “We have to warn everyone!” A loud croak echoed among the trees. 

“Oh! Jeremiah!” cried Greg. The frog jumped out from behind a tree. The boy turned, swooped down, and scooped up the frog. 

“Okay, here’s your frog. Now hang on tight!” Greg wrapped one arm around the boy’s neck and the other tightly around Jeremiah right before the boy flew high above the trees. 

Greg had a good view of the landscape from this height. The trees in the forest were dressed in rich crimson and gold as the wind danced with them. Not far from where they had been standing was the town of Pottsville. Giant pumpkins of various hues with smoke coming out of the chimneys lined streets of cobblestone. And just beyond that, a patchwork of farmland. There were specks moving about the fields. Greg supposed they were farmers. With every second they were getting larger. 

Greg happened to glance back at the woods as they soared over the village, and let out a yelp. The leaves had rustled under a brown mass that seemed to twist around the tree!

“What? What is it now?” asked the boy, coming to a halt midair. 

Greg pointed. “There-there’s something in the trees!” 

The boy glanced back and let out a scoff before taking off again. “That’s the monai. Pankow is deathly afraid of them. They eat nachtkrapps and keep the farms safe. But they’re no more different than your typical large snake.” 

“Oh, that’s reassuring,” muttered Greg. He stifled a gasp as a head popped up out of the curtain of leaves. The monai, though it definitely had the body of a snake, its head was vastly different. It looked like the head of a snake for sure, but with the snout of a dragon, a goat’s beard, and two antennae-like horns on its head. It flicked its tongue before lowering its head, the leaves folding back over like curtains closing. Greg gulped before turning back to the farmland. They were practically over it now and the boy was descending fast.

“Hey-o, hey-o! Vinny! Vinny!” 

The farmers raised their heads and waved. “Hey-o Gaspar!” came the chorus. 

Greg turned to the boy with wide eyes. “You’re Gaspar Gold?” 

The boy landed and set Greg down. “Where’s Vinny?” 

“Who’s your new friend?” asked a female kisia. 

“He just told me Pankow released some kandacs on Pottsville!” 

“And, and he was taking some to Golding too!” Greg blurted. 

The boy turned to him, eyes wide. “Say what?” 

One of the women dropped her scythe. “Peter, go get Vinny! Aspen, take a few people with you and get the kabadillos! Gaspar, go warn Golding! The rest of you, with me! We need to hold them off until the kabadillos arrive!” Everyone jumped into action. Gaspar, for who else could it be, jumped up and flew off in a northeastern direction. The others split up and dashed off in their separate ways. After a minute, Greg and Jeremiah were the only ones in the field. 

Greg blinked before looking at Jeremiah. “Well, guess it’s just you and me now Jeremiah. Can I call you Jeremiah? I mean, I guess you did bring me some good luck by leading me to Gaspar Gold.” He furrowed his brows. “He seems younger than I thought.” His eyebrows went up. “But then, Gardner Geb is young forever and is always fighting Francis Steele, maybe this is just like that?” The frog merely croaked. Greg gasped. “You’re right! We need to find out if Bert and Betty are alright!” He took off running after the farmers.

 

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