Here is the last preview reading of my book that I will release before publication. In this chapter, you'll meet one of my favorite characters, Golgaf. Getting close now! Share this with your fellow bookworms if you like what you see!
Chapter 2
Not a single clear thought had crossed Jane or Jason’s mind since the Map disappeared. A blur of ideas and emotions, abstract but more potent than any they had ever before experienced, drove them onward with the instinctive purpose of reaching the X mark as quickly as possible. Their horses, urged on frantically, had soon torn across the entire width of the valley and climbed its northern slope.
They entered the woods, slowing as they navigated the thick trees. They knew that they did not have far to go before they reached the approximate center of their property, the place to which the Map had beckoned them. All at once, they found themselves reining in their horses at their destination. Eyes wide, they stared around them, expecting to see any number of bizarre and extraordinary things.
There was nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The woods were stiflingly quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were the heavy breathing of the horses and an occasional rustling in the leaves. Nothing about the scene around them was even remotely out of the ordinary; it was the same as they could expect to see on any November day. Just trees, with a few wet, brown leaves clinging to them, and the damp forest floor scattered with fallen logs, as far as the eye could see.
There was a sinking feeling in Jason’s stomach, and he blew out the breath he had been holding in, running his hand through his hair. He was trying to wrap his mind around a single realization that was emerging from the confusion: for the past few minutes, he quite literally hadn’t been thinking at all. A talking piece of paper had made him jump onto his horse like the hero from an old Western movie and ride faster than he had pushed Walker to go in months, through a part of the family property which he knew to be riddled with holes that were often hidden under thick layers of leaves. Nothing about what they had just done was safe or smart, and it was certainly without the slightest good reason. For Jason, who was normally cautious and responsible and prone to logically consider the pros and cons of any significant action he might take, the speed and complete abandon with which he had just reacted was difficult to even comprehend, especially given such a ridiculous motive. The longer he thought about it, the more deeply it troubled him, and the more embarrassed he grew. He flushed up to the roots of his hair and mumbled insults at himself.
Then an alarming thought struck him. Maybe this wasn’t just a prank. Maybe whoever had done this was up to no good. They could have been after the horses…and he and Jane had left the barn door wide open. He was about to whirl his horse around and blaze back to the barn, but he stopped himself. He’d been a fool once today, and that was enough. He relaxed his grip on the reins and thought it through carefully. Each stall door was locked. The key was in Jane’s pocket. Even if a thief could pick the locks, getting into the heart of this property to find the horse barn in the first place, and then leaving undetected with horses in tow – horses the neighbors would recognize – would be a difficult and unlikely achievement, hardly worth the trouble. No, the horses probably weren’t in danger. Something else was amiss.
Meanwhile, Jane had slid off of Bess and was studying the area, looking round every tree, scanning the landscape high and low. She felt tremendously wronged. How could there not be anything to see, after the way the map had made both of them feel? All of that – whatever it was – for nothing? Sure, it seemed silly now, but she couldn’t get over how certain she had felt, only moments before, that something of colossal importance was happening. Even though the way they had reacted was impulsive at best, she thought for certain there would be some answer, some justification here. Perhaps they weren’t at quite the right spot. She widened her search, leading Bess as she circled around Jason, who was remaining very still where he had first halted Walker. But it was no use. The more she looked, the more her disappointment grew. There was nothing. Hot with anger, she petulantly stopped her circling, leaning against Bess and folding her arms. “What the heck?” she snapped, scowling at Jason.
Jason seemed to snap out of his reverie, and he dismounted, looking around cautiously. Jane noticed the look on his face.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for trouble,” Jason said in a low voice.
“So you still think this whole thing is one big prank?”
“Maybe. Keep your eyes open. It might be worse than that.”
Jane threw her hands up in frustration. “Oh, come on, Jason. That’s silly.”
“And everything else we’ve just done isn’t?”
Jane rolled her eyes reluctantly, and they watched and listened for any warning signs.
But the minutes slowly passed and nothing happened.
“Jason, I don’t get it. How in the world could somebody pull this off? What for?”
Jason sighed, giving his hair a final rip. “I don’t have the answers, Jane. But I’m getting tired of this. I think we’re just hungry. I say we go home and just forget about it.” He stepped towards Walker and put one foot into the stirrup to swing himself up.
At that moment, it happened.
There was a blink. I don’t mean that Jane and Jason blinked their eyes. I don’t mean that something made the light go dark for a moment, as happens when an object passes between you and the sun. No, everything blinked. Sight, sound, smell, touch, taste, thoughts – all aspects of consciousness – disappeared, for a single second. Jason froze, steadying himself against Walker’s side. He looked at Jane.
“Did you feel that?”
“Yes.” Her face was pale.
It was then that they became aware of a change in their surroundings. Though nothing seemed visibly different, something felt wrong. They had a strange sensation that the very air around them possessed a personality – and a hostile one, at that. Jason felt his spine prickling. He let his foot down from the stirrup and walked slowly towards Jane, taking Walker’s reins as he moved. They stood side by side in silence, with bated breath.
Suddenly, something airborne streaked by them, just to their right, with a rush of wings; Bess let out a shrill neigh of alarm and Walker jolted backwards.
“What was that?” Jane shouted, as they fought to keep the horses still.
“Maybe a hawk?”
“That did not look like a hawk.”
Jason didn’t answer. They waited, every nerve tensed, for something dreadful to happen. A little later they heard footsteps, far away but unmistakable. Walker gave a low, nervous whinny. But whatever was moving through the dead leaves was not approaching them – the sound faded into the distance.
As they were listening intently, they both recognized a sound that was perhaps more startling than that of the footsteps. It was the babble of running water, somewhere quite near to them. They knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the nearest creek was about a mile away down the valley, on the other side of the barn.
Slowly, cautiously, they began to make their way through the woods, trying to locate the source of the noise. It didn’t take long. Soon they had come upon a large, steep gully, with a brook flowing and swirling along its rocky bottom. They had spent their whole lives on this farm and had never seen either the gully or the brook before.
Jane looked at Jason. “Okay – this has gotten out of control,” she said weakly.
Jason reached for his pocket. “I’ll call Dad.”
Jane nodded. “Good idea.” She breathed deeply, trying to calm down. There must be some explanation. Maybe they had gotten turned around somewhere.
Jason flipped open his cell phone. After a moment of hearing no dialing, Jane glanced at him. “Well?”
“No signal,” Jason said.
Jane groaned. “Of course.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Jason said, showing her the phone. The screen was flashing all sorts of messages. One said that there was no signal. Another asked for the user to select a time zone. Others used more technical terms that Jane didn’t have time to decipher before they flickered away. For a moment, the home screen returned. The time was 00:00, and the date read 00/00/0000.
Jane and Jason stared at each other. Jason closed the phone and pocketed it silently.
There was a long pause as they gazed at the creek below them. Walker pawed the ground restlessly. Finally, Jason gave a resolute sigh, squaring his shoulders.
“Well, we can’t just stand here.” He pointed to the right. “Your house is supposed to be that way. Might as well try it. We shouldn’t let the water out of our sight until we absolutely have to, in case we’re really lost.”
Jane agreed, and they began making their way along the brink of the gulley. But they had not gone far before they saw something that, again, brought them to a halt.
Several yards ahead, there stood the stump of an old tree, about eight feet tall. It widened the closer it got to the ground, creating a fat hut-like shape at its bottom, about three feet in diameter. There was an opening in this part, situated between the arms of two widely-spread, crumbling roots. Up at the top of the stump, there was small hole from which issued a steady stream of smoke.
Thinking the stump had caught fire, Jane dropped Bess’s reins and started forward, looking around for some way to put it out.
“Stop!” cried a voice sharply. Jane screamed and Jason whirled round towards the noise – in the confusion, the terrified horses reared, leaped away from their masters, and dashed wildly out of sight.
“Let them run!” the voice commanded. “You two stay put, now – you hear me?”
Finally, they found the source of the voice. There stood a man less than three feet tall. His face was different than the one in the Map which was burned so vividly into their memories, but he was certainly of the same kind or species. His hair and beard, which were somewhat greener than that of the man in the map, were decidedly disheveled. A ragged band was tied tight around his head, the loose ends hanging awkwardly off to one side towards the back, and his hair stuck out in all directions above and below it. He looked rather undernourished. He was clothed in a long, tattered tunic and a pair of shabby pants. From his belt, there hung a single pouch of flawlessly-polished dark leather. An intricate design was tooled on the flap of the pouch and embellished with thin lines of silver. The quality and beauty of it stood out in surprising contrast to his otherwise dilapidated apparel.
Despite his size, he made an imposing figure, as he glared at them with his bright, sharp green eyes, his bow drawn taut, his arrow trained on Jason’s heart. Under that stare, they had no other ideas but to “stay put,” just as he said.
“Who are you? Where did you come from?” he snapped.
“That’s my question for you,” Jason started furiously, but Jane cut him off with a frantic gesture at the weapon.
“I’m Jane, this is Jason...we come from right here – at least we thought so, but something happened...”
“Did you do all this? What for?” Jason demanded.
“Shut it!” the little man shouted. “I want straight answers, no chatter – or else I’ll drop you both where you stand.”
Jane squeezed Jason’s wrist, and he forced himself to calm down. “Fine – take it easy. We’ve just never seen anyone like you in our woods before.”
The man growled. “Your woods, eh? Ha! Likely. The Advisor’s mob doesn’t own Griffyngrein[1], as much as they’d like to think so. And – neither does he,” he added suddenly, a little louder, as if it was a very wrong thing to say but he took pleasure in saying it anyway.
Jane and Jason looked at each other with wide eyes. “Say that again?” Jane requested weakly.
“I said neither does he!” the man barked, drawing the bowstring a little tighter.
“No, no, the name. Griff...something...”
“Griffyngrein?” The man squinted at her.
“Griffyngrein,” Jane repeated slowly.
“Not too bright, are you?”
“But…we don’t know anything about a Griffyngrein. We came from over there…” Jason pointed vaguely… “and that’s home, in North Carolina. What are you doing in our woods?” he added, his frustration mounting.
“There it is again. Your woods!” the man scoffed, disgust dripping from his tone. “You say it so easily! All of you do – every blooming one of you! Let me tell you something right now – you may have destroyed our lives, but these will never be your woods. If the griffins were here, they’d teach you your place – but they’re not, and my people are the next in line for the job.” He closed one eye to perfect his aim.
“Wait, wait, hold on!” Jason said hurriedly, raising his hands. “I think you’re confused – we haven’t destroyed anybody’s lives.”
“Likely story. You’re just more hooligans working for the Advisor, and you’re here to see what else you can take. But you aren’t getting my breakfast. Not once I plug an arrow through both of you right here and now!”
“But we’re not working for an advisor. We’d never take a penny from anybody, and that’s the honest-to-goodness truth.”
“Of course! We won’t hurt you!” Jane added.
The man snorted. “No, you certainly won’t.”
“But I mean it!” Jane protested. “What’s happened? Who are these people you’re talking about, who’ve treated you this way? Maybe we can help you.”
He shook his head. “We don’t trust strangers around here anymore. They always turn out to be the Advisor’s hired hands.”
“But look at us,” Jason said. “Do we look like we’re going to do you any harm? We’re not even carrying weapons. I think we’re just lost – here by accident – and if you don’t like having us around, just kindly help us figure out how to get back to our property.”
The man frowned doubtfully. “It’s easy enough to get lost in Griffyngrein nowadays. But I don’t trust this ignorance you’re hiding behind. Alright, I’ll play along with your game. Assuming you’re here by accident, how did it happen?”
Jason took a deep breath. “Jane and I were in our barn, taking care of the horses…”
“That’s the first thing!” the man interrupted. “There’s only one tribe in this country that has horses, and that’s the Ingers. And you certainly don’t look or act like Ingers.” He glanced at Jane. “Well, you might could pass for one, but only to an untrained eye. The point is, there’s no way in Griffyngrein you should have horses.”
Jason looked helplessly at Jane, who gave it a try. “That’s what’s confusing us...you keep on talking about Griffyngrein, but we don’t know what you mean. Our farm is in Wilkesboro, North Carolina. Do you have a different name for this area? I mean, surely you’ve heard of Wilkesboro, or at least North Carolina – haven’t you? How about the United States?”
The man rolled his eyes. “No. No, no, no. You must be insane.”
“Just listen,” Jason interjected. “We were in the barn when we saw a map, a really strange map, hanging on the wall. And it turned into a message, from someone who actually looked kind of like you. And…”
Suddenly the man’s derisive expression disappeared and he looked at them sharply. “Eh?”
“Yes,” Jason said, latching on to the first sign of belief. “It’s hard to explain, but we heard a voice calling for help, and the map pointed us to a specific location on our property, sort of at the center. We rode here right away, and we started finding things that we had never seen before on our property – like, whole streams and land formations that have never been there before. We were trying to figure it all out when you showed up. That’s all.”
The little man slowly lowered his bow and arrow as Jason spoke, much to their relief. He looked a little dazed. Turning to one side, he began muttering to himself. Jane and Jason waited nervously. They didn’t consider running away. They both knew that they would only get into more trouble if they did. They watched for his next move.
Finally, he stamped his foot and gave a decisive nod. “Stay right there,” he commanded, and he disappeared into the opening of the tree stump, which they now realized must be his hut, with smoke from a subterranean fireplace issuing from the chimney at the top. A moment later, he came back with a thick staff, taller than he was. He had left his bow behind, but he wore a dagger in a sheath at his hip. He jerked his head. “Come on!” he said impatiently, as if he’d been waiting on them for ages. And with that, he struck out into the woods, beating bushes and branches out of his way with his staff.
After a moment, he stopped and looked back. “Well?” he barked.
Jane and Jason looked at each other, and Jason reluctantly shrugged and nodded. “We’re coming!” Jane called, and they followed him, as quickly as they could.
“Where are we going?” Jason asked, breathlessly, when they had eventually caught up with him.
“I’m taking you to Ranef. He’ll know what to do with you.”
“What to do with us?” Jane echoed, stopping in her tracks.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, keep moving!” he grumbled. “He’s not going to hurt you, if that’s what’s bothering you. At least, as long as you behave,” he added dubiously.
“But who is he?” Jason prompted.
“He’s a Griffin Man, like me. If you really did see someone in that Map of yours, it was him, without a doubt.”
“You think he called us for help?” Jason asked, trying not to stop on the Griffin Man comment.
“If you’re telling the truth, then yes.”
“But how?”
“Ha! Magic, of course. Ranef’s particularly strong with it – makes the rest of us Griffin Men look silly, really.”
“But...”
“Come on, we can’t stand around here all day.”
“Will you at least tell us your name, since we’re following you blindly through the forest?” Jane asked.
“It’s Golgaf. I am not pleased to meet you. Now, come along!”
Soon they were deep in the heart of a forest that looked nothing like what Jane and Jason knew as their own property. As they waded through thick masses of half-dead weeds that reached up to their knees or higher, or ducked under low branches, or pushed through clusters of prickly bushes, that grim and resentful personality in the air, which they had noticed before they met Golgaf, began to weigh heavily on the two of them. It was cold. Most of the leaves had fallen from the trees, but all was still a shadowy, tangled mess, perhaps because of the many dark evergreens lurking all around. The undergrowth was packed with thorns. Vines ran across the ground, looping up into the bushes and trees occasionally, tripping them and hindering their progress so often it seemed intentional. Occasionally, they passed little huts, some cabins, and even large stone houses that looked abandoned and terribly lonely; all were broken down and pulled apart. Even stranger, there seemed to be no living thing around at all, not even a bird, and yet Jane and Jason felt as if all sorts of unpleasant creatures were watching them.
They moved along slowly because of all the mess blocking their way, but their guide seemed to know where he was going. Jason began to notice that the ground was worn bare in a narrow line under their feet, the only indication that Golgaf might have often traveled this way. The ground itself had accepted the frequent wear of his feet, but the vines and plants had not.
Finally, up ahead, they saw a large grove of cedar trees, packed closely together under the taller canopy. It was especially dense and dark amongst them, but Golgaf did not turn aside; he was leading them straight into their midst. Soon they had entered this forest amidst the forest, and now had to put up with the prickly cedar branches as well as the undergrowth. It was so dusky here that it was hard to see even a few feet ahead; thus, it was quite suddenly and unexpectedly that they came upon a door – a plain, heavy, dark wooden door with an arched top. The cedar trees grew so close to it that their branches pressed against it, and against the earthen hut in which the door was set, providing the perfect camouflage. Golgaf did not knock. He grasped the handle and pushed the door open, beckoning for Jane and Jason to follow him.
When they were inside, they spotted a Griffin Man sitting on a log near the opposite side of the hut. When he had risen and walked towards them, and when their eyes had adjusted to the dim torchlight, they both recognized him. He was, indeed, the one from the Map.
He was a couple inches taller than Golgaf, and he looked older. His clothing, like Golgaf’s, was shabby – it very well could have been the only outfit he owned – but it was neater and better mended, and his hair and beard were not as wild and prickly. His green eyes were just as striking as they had been in the Map, but now Jane and Jason noticed what they hadn’t before: a profound kindness, so natural and so deep that it was like looking into two pure and bottomless wells. All throughout their following interactions with Ranef, no matter what was happening, the kindness was always there.
“Golgaf, my friend, good morning! It is a relief to see you again. It’s been two weeks since you last came – I was beginning to worry.”
“The Terrfungs have been busy in my area, Ranef. They visited me twice this past week and I wasn’t about to move around with them nearby. But I heard their horn blow at dusk yesterday, and from the terrible ruckus that followed, I figure they packed up and moved on – for now.”
“They did not hurt you, then?”
“Not seriously,” Golgaf said cynically. “I never let them get close enough. I’ve managed to hold onto my home – and it’s only because they can’t fit their fat backsides into it. Not that they haven’t tried. They even dropped some stones down into my den, just for the fun of it. I only just got that mess cleared out this morning.”
Ranef grasped Golgaf’s shoulder. “If, heaven forbid, they should manage to put you out of your home, don’t ever forget that you must come directly here. I have room, and you would be most welcome.”
Golgaf nodded. “I know.” Then he coughed, and pointed a thumb back at Jane and Jason. “I brought some visitors for you.”
“So I noticed,” Ranef said, turning to look at the two young people. “Who are they?”
“I don’t have the foggiest idea. It’s very odd, and probably not too good. They claim to have gotten here by accident. Accidents are rubbish. I almost shot them. But I brought them here because...” (here he stepped closer to Ranef and spoke in a low voice) “because they mentioned a Map, Ranef. They said they saw a Griffin Man in it, and that it spoke to them, told them where to go. Figured I better check it with you – Great Macandoff, don’t look like that. I can’t take it on an empty stomach.”
Ranef had frozen and was staring up at Jane and Jason with the most intense gaze they had ever experienced. They felt as if he could see right through them, into the wall behind them.
It seemed to last for a very long time. Then, never looking away, he relaxed his posture a bit and stepped towards them, holding out – or rather, up – his hand. “Welcome, friends,” he said, in a calm and friendly voice. “I am Ranef.”
“I’m Jason – this is Jane.”
“We’re cousins,” Jane added, as she shook Ranef’s hand and tried to relax.
“Ah. It is a pleasure to meet both of you. You are strangers to Griffyngrein, are you not?”
“Yes, we are,” Jason said, relieved that someone actually understood this fact from the start. “We’ve never even heard of Griffyngrein before. We’re all turned around.”
“I can imagine,” Ranef said. “Well, come. It is chilly in this upper room, and not as private as we would desire for further conversation. Follow me, and we shall talk about how you two got here, and what’s to be done for you.”
Lifting a deerskin flap on the wall to their left, he revealed a small tunnel. “This way,” he said, and stepped in.
They followed him. Golgaf brought up the rear. The space was large enough for both of the Griffin Men to stand upright, but Jane and Jason had to bend over almost to the point of going on their hands and knees. However, there was plenty of space on either side of them, so that they did not feel too claustrophobic.
Jason, who was behind Ranef, noticed that the old man had not lit a candle before he stepped into the tunnel, and that there seemed to be no sources of light along the walls. But there was a light all the same – not a bright light, but a sort of pale green glow that illumined the ground and the sides of the tunnel only where they walked. He looked closely at Ranef. It almost seemed as if the light was coming from him. Jason gulped.
The tunnel sloped downwards rather steeply and soon came to an end in a comfortable underground den. This room, a little bigger than the one at the surface, was filled with the warm, flickering glow of a fire that was burning on the far side of the room. The fireplace was a simple affair – a recess dug into the earthen wall and outfitted with a basic ventilation system, with a log mantelpiece almost bare of decorations. In front of this fireplace, three large logs were arranged, covered with tattered deerskins; they served as couches. Aside from these, and a collection of carved staffs which leaned against the wall on the right side of the room, the area was quite lacking in furnishings and décor.
Off to their right, they saw another room, not much bigger than a closet, in which there stood a very simple table and chair. On the wall hung several strange but beautiful drawings; they seemed to be curious diagrams, illuminated with the most vivid colors you can imagine. There were also recesses dug into the walls of this little room, in which rows of books and stacks of scrolls were displayed.
Ranef waved his hand hospitably towards the log couches. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
As they seated themselves, he took a poker and lifted the lid off a small pot that hung over the fire. He ladled out a hot liquid into clay mugs, and handed one to each of his guests. “This will warm you up.”
Jason hesitated, smelling his drink suspiciously while neither Griffin Man was looking. The fragrance was earthy but pleasant. He glanced at the others; Golgaf was already drinking his in large gulps, and Jane didn’t seem to be at all concerned. Finally, he cautiously tasted it. It was good, although he couldn’t identify the flavor. It was almost as strong as coffee, but not as bitter. Ranef was right; as he took the first few sips he felt the warmth coursing through him. Soon he had forgotten the harsh cold of the strange world through which he had just walked.
Ranef sat down facing Jane and Jason, crossed his legs, and, after taking a sip, said, “Now, tell me how you came here – down to the smallest detail, please.”
Together they began to tell Ranef everything that had happened that day, from the time they walked into the barn until the moment they met Golgaf. While Golgaf himself seemed to doubt the truth of the entire story except the parts that he was in, Ranef listened reasonably and gravely, without any sign of hostility or doubt, much to Jane and Jason’s relief. When Jason began to speak of the Map, and how it had appeared to them, and what the message had said, the old Griffin Man’s face became first very serious, and then unreadable. But by the end of the story, his eyes had become misty, and when Jason finished, he stood up.
“Golgaf, my friend, the time may be here, at last.”
Golgaf cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I cannot swear by it, until the Test proves it true…but all the signs are right. I believe these two are Griffyngrein’s liberators.”
[1] Pronounced griffin - green
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