THE BOOK OF SECOND CHANCES

BY

J. M. Blumer

The moon was full, yet the forest stayed Halloween black. The fox stopped, her ears erect. Ending her hunting early, she tiptoed silently through the forest. At the edge of a small clearing, she paused to sniff the air before hurrying across, to reach her den under the ruins of the old cottage.

A circular spot in the carpet of dry pine needles rustled then stilled. They twitched again. The gray fox caught the movement and quickly took shelter under the firewood stacked against the stone chimney at the back of the building. The needles lifted and spun, picking up loose blades of grass and dry bits of earth to accompany them. The dust devil grew as unsettled night air brushed across the meadow circled by age old pines. The whirlwind called to the ferns. The feathery plants straightened from their bent slumber to dance and jerk as the glowing wind-spiral rose, broadened and began to howl. High branches on the trees joined in the frolic, swaying and bending as the swirling gray funnel brushed against them.

Swaying gracefully at first, the funnel lurched and began to gyrate wildly from the three growing forms that plumped and distorted its center. Tired of its load and finished with the task it was summoned for, the journey-wind belched and was gone.

"Get off me."

"That’s my foot."

"Ouch! I burnt my thumb. What’s on fire?"

"You lit my beard with your pipe, you quarter-wit," Haggerwolf yelled, flailing his hands at the tip of his whiskers.

Larkstone pulled his hickory wand from inside his vest. "Hold him, Fernbark!"

Fernbark locked his stubby arms around Haggerwolf from behind. Larkstone swung. The wand clipped off the tip of the scrawny wizard’s beard as cleanly as a troll’s razor. The gray hair floated to the ground and sizzled as the last of it burned to curlicue ash.

The fox peeked out after catching the scent of the three odd men; butter and cinnamon. She wiped her tongue across her snout. The smell was familiar.

"That’s my vest!" Larkstone yelled at Fernbark. "What are you doing with it?"

"How should I know? Hey! Those are my pants. Get ‘em off, you overstuffed bag of lizard lard. You’ll split the leather."

"Me! I’m not the one that eats four pounds of boar bacon for lunch."

"Quiet. Both of you!" Haggerwolf said, still plucking the end of his beard. "We’re supposed to be doing this in secret. And you’re wearing my boots, Larkstone. The journey-wind mixed us all up. It always does that in a trip this far. Let’s change, but fast."

The three wizards stripped, tossing everything but their red long underwear into a pile on the ground near the ramshackle door to the cottage. Then they grabbed for what was theirs.

Haggerwolf, the taller one, pulled out pants, shirt, and a long robe. They were all dark blue, almost black and had the outlines of forest animals embroidered in the fabric. Fernbark and Larkstone, both shorter and stout, sorted through the pile. Fernbark’s clothes were different shades of green with outlines of plants and Larkstone’s clothes light blue with fish and seashell patterns.

"Your buttons made my fingers green," Fernbark said. "Never buy a vest with copper buttons."

"You sold it to me," Haggerwolf said and rubbed his sleeve against one of the buttons. "I’ll take that little matter up with you when we’re back home. Now give me the book. Let’s get on with this."

"You had it when Larkstone conjured up the journey-wind," Fernbark answered as he slipped his arms through his suspenders, letting the blue bands snap against his shoulders.

"One of you grabbed it from me when that blasted wind took off with us."

"There it is." Larkstone pointed back to the edge of the pines near where the whirlwind had expelled them. "Must have blown out of my hands."

The book smelled of skin, but not from an animal the fox recognized. She sneezed to push the scent from her nostrils. Bordering the cover of the thick book, heavy studs glowed faintly in competition with the moonlight. Both the light and smell chafed her instincts. Keeping low, she crept from her den, dashed around the corner of the woodpile, and disappeared into the woods.

"What was that?" Larkstone asked, his voice sharp and fast. He hugged the book close to his chest and spun around.

"Just some critter," Fernbark answered. "Probably one of those cats these hills are named after."

"It’s not the cat-hills," Haggerwolf said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "It’s Catskills and we’re in the mountains. That critter was just a porkypie, I think. My aunt used to feed ‘em bits of sugar rolls."

"Who else knows about this place?" Fernbark asked and looked in the direction the fox had run. "Maybe we should--"

"It’s safe," Haggerwolf said, cutting him off. "My aunt knew what we were trying to do. Just before Fistlock killed her, she told me about her little secret hideaway world. This will be a safe place to stash that leather-bound scourge."

"But we’re not the only ones who know this world exists," Larkstone said, still clutching the book tight as he walked back toward the cottage.

Haggerwolf gave the teetering door to the old building a kick. "Ah, but we are the only ones that know how to get to it."

Rusted hinges lost their grip and rough hewn boards gave way. When each board slapped to the floor, a new puff of dust joined with the rest. Haggerwolf braced his hands on the doorframe and leaned inside.

The interior was dark except for a strip of floor in front of him and a spot in the far corner of the room where part of the roof had fallen in. In those two spots the moon eased its dim light inside the small stone and log cottage.

"I’ll make some light," Fernbark said and ducked under Haggerwolf’s arm. He took a good-sized pinch of dried moss from his vest pocket and rolled it into a ball between his palms. "Give me some water." He reached back without turning around, expecting someone to hand him a water skin.

"I didn’t bring any," Haggerwolf said. "How about you, Larkstone?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"We’re not on a blasted picnic, and my spells don’t use water. Why would I bring any? You’re the leader. You’re supposed to think of those things," Larkstone said and slid past the taller wizard. "Allow me." Larkstone grabbed Fernbark’s hand and spit.

Fernbark jerked his hand away. His eyes widened, his face reddened and his mouth opened.

"Don’t say it," Larkstone snapped, before Fernbark could utter a complaint. "It worked, didn’t it?"

Fernbark grumbled something about garden slugs under his breath as he picked up the glowing pea-sized ball of moss from the floor. He scowled at Larkstone before taking a pinch of orange powder from another pocket. When he sprinkled it on the moss, the room lit up in the bright yellow-green glow of the magic light.

Haggerwolf pushed between them and moved to the stone hearth. "All right, you two. Let’s just take care of the book and then get out of here. Help me clear this spot. Fernbark, find something to sweep with so we can see the mortar lines. Larkstone, we’ll need a makeshift pedestal."

There wasn’t much inside the cottage, except for a few shelves that retained a precarious grip on the log walls and a pile of rubble from the fallen section of roof. Larkstone sifted through the jumble of broken boards and shingles, while Fernbark went back outside.

Haggerwolf knelt in front of the fireplace and began clearing pine needles and debris off of the hearthstone. Fernbark returned with a bundle of dried grass and began sweeping the last of the fine dust and dirt away from the spot Haggerwolf had cleared. When they had a three-foot oval area swept clean, the two wizards moved back and waited. Larkstone used several chunks of broken timber and a few moss covered wooden shingles to fashion a short pedestal to hold the book.

"Now are you going to tell us your plan?" Fernbark asked as he set the book in place. "You said it was better if we didn’t know until the last moment. I figure we’re pretty close to that time now."

"We’re going to seal the book and hide it with a layer of spells. Any spell that can be done, can be undone, so we’ll each cast our own spells.

"Good plan," Larkstone said and began rolling up his sleeves. "If we’re creative enough, even if one person knew all the spells, it would take three ogre-lives to figure out how to work them."

"I do admit, it’s one of my more brilliant plans," Haggerwolf said. He reached to tuck the end of his beard behind his wide belt, but grabbed air where the missing end would have hung. He cleared his throat, scratched his side and then tucked the sheared end inside the opening of his shirt, between two buttons. "Let’s get started. We’ll bury it inside the hearthstone. But first…" He drew a slender dagger from behind his belt and knelt by the book. Holding the hilt in one hand, he placed three fingers of his other hand over runes etched into the blade. The dagger began to glow.

The thick book had a strap and ornate latch to hold it closed. Haggerwolf placed the tip of his blade at the base of a brass acorn that formed the lock for the clasp. He gave his wrist a quick twist. The acorn popped loose and Larkstone snatched it from the air.

"Hm… Magic. It figures. It turned back into a real acorn," Larkstone said. He put the nut on the hearthstone and smashed it with his boot. "So much for the lock, but one of us will have to deal with the acorn in their spell. It’ll need replacing to unlock the strap. No one can cut that leather. It’s from a glorgwart."

"Then I say it’s spell time," Fernbark said. "Let’s circle around. Who wants to go first?"

"Book in a stone stays out of sight," Haggerwolf said and waved his wand.

"Not bad," Larkstone said and nodded as he pulled out his own wand. "Seek with a rainbow in the night." He and Haggerwolf looked at Fernbark.

"Tears from a girl with an overbite."

"What in the troll-ear was that?" Haggerwolf asked as he stared at Fernbark.

"Well," Fernbark said and began to blush. "You two rhymed and that’s all I could come up with. We’re supposed to be spontaneous, aren’t we?" He tried to force a scowl on his face.

Haggerwolf rolled his eyes and cast another spell beginning the next round. "Nut with a cap where the pine cones fall."

"Names of love in a mother’s shawl."

"Laughs from a boy who ain't too tall."

Haggerwolf and Larkstone both looked up.

"It’ll make it harder to figure out. Won’t it!" Fernbark yelled at them, his face burning bright red. "Let’s place it."

The three men pointed their wands and the hearthstone began to shimmer. A rectangle in the center of the quarried stone turned clear before it vanished. While Larkstone and Fernbark kept their wands steady, Haggerwolf used his to move the book. The bound pages floated from the makeshift pedestal and hovered over the void in the hearthstone. As he lowered his wand the book settled into place. When all three wizards withdrew their wands, the void filled with clear stone, sealing in the book.

"Now just a single spell by me," Haggerwolf said. "It’s an alarm for the three of us if someone tries to tamper here." He pointed his wand at the book. "Shambles re-scrambles." A puff of wind fluffed the end of his beard and circled the other two wizards, flipping their shirttails as it passed.

"What’s the alarm?" Larkstone asked as he tucked his shirt back in.

"You’ll recognize it if it happens," Haggerwolf said and put his wand away. "Let’s finish it. Same order as before. I’ll start. Lightning reveals."

"A tear unseals."

"Blood heals," Fernbark said, his face beaming this time.

Fernbark’s look of pride and the surprise on the other two faces were lost in the sudden swirl of dust. The magic light dimmed and the clutter of boards and shingles in the corner rattled until the wind stopped. The three wizards coughed and waved their arms.

"I guess that means it all worked," Haggerwolf said as the dust settled. "If Fistlock, himself, found this place, he’d never figure out all of that."

"And my little creative touch rules out random chance," Fernbark said, looking at his friends expecting to see them nod in agreement. They were looking at the hearthstone.

The stone, the fireplace, the beams and shingles from the pedestal, were all back in their original positions.

Haggerwolf nodded approvingly at their work. "There’s absolutely no chance that anyone from this world or any other could ever find and open that book."

"Well, my friends," Larkstone said as he used his hands to brush dust from his shoulders. "One of you call up another journey-wind and let’s get home to Gabendoor before Fistlock comes looking for us."