A Light in the Forest

Something large and terrible blocked my way along the forest trail.

Could I avoid the creature? I glanced to the left and right. No good at all. I would prefer going into the forest, but Sonderheim Wood was too dense. Countless narrow birch trunks tangled together, each struggling for mastery.

I checked the trail behind me and didn’t see anyone, but retreating wasn’t an option. Two or more warriors were chasing me, and I chose my route through Sonderheim Wood to discourage them. People didn’t travel through this evil forest unless they had to.

The five hundred of us who joined the ambush against the upstart Lord Todstein had fallen into a trap. Three times as many warriors as we had mowed us down, and my remaining goal was escaping as quickly as possible.

I was making good time—until the unfortunate roadblock: a toad the size of an enormous pig or a small dragon.

Red, green, and black warts upon warts covered the creature’s skin. Long spikes grew from those covering its neck and spine. Each hideous limb ended in hands and feet that had long, filthy claws. Its enormous eyes were different colors, one a baleful yellow and the other a bilious green. Its broad mouth had a single large fang on the left side.

It glared at me, as if this toad owned Sonderheim Wood and I was trespassing. Both could be true, but being chased inspired me. Moreover, I had an ax to dispute my right of way. I cautiously approached and was nearly in range when the beast spoke.

“Hey, Bud, you got a light?”

I risked a look behind and didn’t see any warriors, but I didn’t have time for this. Nor did I like being called Bud. The name grated on my nerves, but it distracted from the surprise of the monster talking.

One has to expect such encounters in Sonderheim Wood, which was notorious for ill-begotten creatures. I was lucky that the creature didn’t attempt to eviscerate me on sight. Then I noticed that protruding from the thing’s mouth wasn’t a fang but a thick butt, the end being somewhat burnt. Whatever the creature had been smoking, the aroma was potent.

In choosing between battle and talk, I always opt for talking. I had nothing against reasonable monsters. It wasn’t as if it were a giant spider. I’d never trust one of those.

“My name isn’t Bud. It’s—”

“It doesn’t matter what your name is. My objective is simple: Do you have a light?”

“I’ve a flint, but it would take a while to get a fire going.” (One learned in Sonderheim Wood the value of politeness when replying to demigods or magic creatures.)

“Look, Bud, all my smoke needs is a few sparks to get it going. You can do that, can’t you?”

“As much as I’d like to oblige, I’m being chased by henchmen of Lord Todstein. I’m not sure where they are, but they’re close. I have to get to my cabin, because I’ve broken my sword, and only have this ax and a dagger left. Once I’m home and have a bow in hand, I could discourage them.”

“So you’re having a tough day. Do you think you’re the only one? And do you think I’m here to chitchat with you? The gods—that is, Una the Fair, and who doesn’t like Una the Fair—sent me, and the point is this: Give me a light, and I’ll give you three fishes. Those are her instructions.” The creature glanced heavenward for a moment. “Maybe she didn’t say those words exactly, but she did tell me to make it simple for a lowlife to understand, and here you are. Is there anything simpler than giving me a light?”

It looked at me expectantly when I didn’t reply. Fish could be a pleasant meal but hardly a prize.

“You’re having me on. Honestly . . . three fishes? You’ll give me three fishes for a light? That’s not much of a reward, especially if you’re talking Una the Fair.” I couldn’t see any god sending a giant toad to do her bidding, and it wouldn’t be the first time a creature from this forest tried tricking me. Lord Todstein could have summoned it to delay me, not that I was an important member of the rebel army, but you never know. Anger takes so many different forms.

The toad chuckled, or as much of a chuckle as anything could do with a butt hanging from its mouth.

“Did I say fishes? Hey, it’s been a long day. You wouldn’t believe the slums I’ve visited and the hardheaded jerks I had to convince.” It mused for a bit, quietly croaking to itself, and then said, “I meant wishes, okay? Are you happy now? You get three wishes for helping me. So do you have a light or not? I thought you’d be straightforward, a typical woodsman walking around with an ax and happy having wishes fulfilled instead of chopping from dawn to dusk.”

I scratched my head. Something good could happen. Everyone hears stories about gods helping, but I never expected it to happen to me. I’m not nobility by any stretch of the imagination. Nor am I a lucky third son—or is it a lucky seventh son? The opposite appeared more likely, a trick to put me at my ease so the monster could have an easy snack.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “Three wishes for giving you a light? That’s too easy. What are you really after?”

“Too easy!” The toad pounded the ground. “Of course it’s too easy. It’s downright stupid. Look at you! Even you’re suspicious. I almost said as much to Una the Fair, but when a god tells you to do something, you do it. Listen: Una the Fair didn’t specify your task. Why would she? She’s a god, right? Gods don’t go in for particulars. They like results. She told me to make it easy. Okay, I’m making it easy. Do you want to complain about a simple task? Go ahead. Find out how much your opinion matters. Maybe you rather kill a dragon or climb a glass mountain? Some folks get off on challenges like that, but I don’t have the time to sit around and watch you being heroic. And I’d appreciate if you started paying attention and stopped squirming about.”

“I can’t help it. Some warriors sense danger when the hair on the back of their neck stands straight. Others have weapons that clang in the event of trouble. Me . . . I get an itch down the center of my back—the spot I can’t reach—when I’m being chased.”

“When was the last time you had a bath?” the toad asked. “Personal hygiene is the best answer to itches.”

I shouted, “Lord Todstein’s henchmen are chasing me!”

“Let’s not get into a huff. While you’re with me, you’re protected against violence, disease, fire, or anything else you could name. That’s the advantage of helping an emissary from Una the Fair. Do you feel better now?”

Could I trust the creature? The itching at the center of my back didn’t go away, but an itch may not be susceptible to godly intervention.

“I suppose so.”

“You’re getting a better deal than the one demigods on a mission receive. If you don’t do what Una the Fair tells you, she’ll either fry you to a crisp or turn you into a disgusting creature, like a horrid-looking toad with more warts than freckles.” The creature studied me with its malignant eyes. “What are you staring at?”

I took a step backward. No one likes having illusions destroyed, and among the worst in that category are monsters who don’t know they’re monsters. They’re appallingly dangerous.

“Who? Me? Nothing. I was wondering how you got mixed up with gods, wishes, and all that . . . sir.”

“Sir?” The creature pointed a bunch of claws at me. “Your eyes are none too good. Maybe you should wish for a pair of glasses—if anything at your intelligence level would know what glasses are. Listen, Bud, I’m not a he. I’m a she. Ana by name, one of the prettiest of all Una the Fair’s demigods, and I receive most of her missions. Whether it be luck or ill, there you have it. A god chooses good looks over any other consideration. So if Una the Fair wants anything done, she sends me. You know what? Maybe after my smoke we can go to an inn, have a drink together, and get to know each other a little better.” The toad winked at me.

Could that picture of hideousness—claws, horns, warts on warts—be trying to seduce me? What have I done wrong with my life? What was she smoking—or wanting to smoke? Or was it a trick of one of the stranger gods, the sort who didn’t intervene too often but, on doing so, made a mess of everything? Yeah, I could see myself having drinks and going to bed with a giant toad. Still, maybe the creature was wearing a disguise—maybe under all that filth she could be pretty. No, it wasn’t possible. The disguise was too complete, and Ana thought she was beautiful. Talk about being cursed! Maybe I was King Weatherlam’s long-lost son. The odds of her beauty or my heritage weren’t likely. It was time for a graceful exit—before Lord Todstein’s henchmen ruined whatever relationship Ana and I weren’t going to have.

“As much as I’d like to help, I am being chased, and I have to get out of here.” I edged closer to Ana and contemplated jumping over her—difficult but possible, unless she happened to spit poison. That would be a downer. Demigods and magic creatures took offense at the slightest show of disrespect. “Perhaps we could continue our discussion elsewhere?”

Ana’s shoulders slumped, as did any number of her warts. “You don’t believe me.” She sighed. “Well, I can’t say that having a lucky meeting is too probable, so why shouldn’t you distrust me? I tell you what I’m going to do. This is an offer I wouldn’t make to just anyone, but I like your blue eyes. They’re so trusting. Listen: You can have your first wish for free—a bargain for today only. Make any wish you want, and I’ll fulfill it. How’s that, Bud? You won’t get a better deal.”

Her proposal tempted me. “Any wish at all?”

Ana nodded, her spirits returning and warts popping out farther than ever. “You got it, blue eyes.”

What to do? I wanted to be home. I couldn’t ask for anything more practical, but if that wish worked, I’d lose the two others, because Ana would have moved on. How about those slime balls hunting me? I could wish them harm, but for all I knew, they could have given up and gone back to whatever hole they crawled out of. That would be a wasted wish. I was left with the inevitable: wishing for a warrior’s best friend.

“What I wish for is a crock of gold.”

“Excuse me?” Ana asked.

I must have looked a little baffled, because she went on.

“What kind of crock? Are we talking something massive with multiple layers of glaze? Do you want to keep stew in it afterward?”

“I prefer simple wishes. A large cast-iron pot would do.”

“Yeah, that’s simple all right. You know, I give folks wishes all the time, and for once I’d like to be surprised. Wishing for a palace would be a challenge, especially if you wanted indoor plumbing.”

“What’s indoor plumbing? Besides, I can buy a palace once I’ve got the gold.”

She shook her head. “Forget I mentioned it. How large a pot do you want? Something you can carry or large enough to require a cart?”

“All I’m wishing for is a modest pot, well, maybe leaning toward a cauldron. Knee-high if it’s on the ground, and thanks for the suggestion about transport. I want my pot of gold inside my cabin, which is three miles outside Sonderheim Wood along this trail. It’s in a clearing, and the porch has trumpet vines growing alongside. The door posts are painted green. You can’t miss it.”

Ana blinked. “Done.”

“What do you mean, done? I didn’t see you do anything.”

She looked disgusted. “What did you expect? Arm waving? Fireworks? An aurora? Maybe an eclipse of the sun? It’s an ordinary wish, the sort we do all the time. It’s child’s play. Now, about that light?”

Could I trust the toad? In her favor, she was talking, which signifies magic powers, but I wanted to see the pot of gold materialize and watch it fly to my cabin.

Ana took the butt from her mouth and held it in her hand, and I attempted to light it with sparks from my flint but that didn’t work.

I straightened up and groaned. “I’ll gather kindling and start a fire.”

“Don’t be all day about it, Bud,” she snapped. “I’ve plenty of places to go before I’m through. Do you think you’re the only peasant on my list?”

I bristled at being called a peasant, which was almost as bad as being addressed as Bud, but I was ready to forgive her if she gave me the other two wishes. I gathered twigs and a few longer sticks, assembled them in front of her, and began striking the flint. After a few minutes, I had a plume of smoke rising into the air when suddenly the forest became quiet: no bird calls or scurrying sounds.

“Uh-oh,” Ana said. “We’ve company.”

I whirled around, and there they were: two of them, ugly brutes, the sort you can rely on Lord Todstein to hire. They were well armed. Pity. In a second I had battle ax in one hand and dagger in the other. I waited for Ana to do a miracle of godly defense, but when they closed to within ten paces of me, I threw the dagger and scored a hit. Right through the throat! The quality knife throwing pleased me, except I’d skewered the guy farther back. I had aimed at the front one. No matter. One against one is okay, especially when I’m highly motivated. I not only could duel but also knew that on top of my pot of gold I had two wishes left. I would win—and I did. The wretch was on the ground as dead as the first fellow.

Having a pair of dead bodies lying around was inconvenient, but I intended to take them elsewhere after finishing with Ana. I turned to her, ready to start my fire and discuss my next wish. However, the toad had vanished.

“Hey Ana,” I yelled. “It’s safe. You can come out. All’s well, and you can have that smoke.”

She neither answered nor materialized, so I walked back and forth along the trail. I found no trace of her—except for the butt, which I pocketed—but I did find an opening between the trees fifty paces away. I wasted time calling her name, but she didn’t reappear, so I did what anyone else would do. I cursed. Of all the horrid, rotten beasts. Trust a toad to disappear when there was a hint of danger and not return. Beautiful woman? Ana? Godly protection? Sure. I bet she was soaking in a pond to cool her warts.

I kicked apart my would-be fire and dragged the two bodies to discreet places in the forest. No one would find them after a week, since the wildlife in Sonderheim Wood had hearty appetites. Then I continued on my way. My only benefit was a sword recovered from one of the punks. It looked like a decent weapon and made up for the one I had broken in the ambush-battle. Neither of the guys had any money. Who does? No one goes into a battle with a pocketful of cash.

I made it through Sonderheim Wood without further incident, and at home, the trumpet vine was blooming and that pleased me. Everything benefits from extra color. I didn’t linger to admire the flowers, since I was anxious to look inside. I didn’t believe in magic toads, ugly or not, however large, sent by Una the Fair, but there was a slight chance that Ana was telling the truth.

Inside my cabin, I came across a large pot. It wasn’t cast iron but thin ceramic. The pot was full of water, which was leaking onto the floor. My heart fell to my feet as I watched the numerous fish swimming in the pot. What was it with Ana and fish? Did she—as a toad—have a fishy obsession? Did she dream of them while sleeping? Or was it a cruel sense of humor? They weren’t just fish. They were goldfish.

Author’s Biography

Living in central Pennsylvania, US, Chet Gottfried feels compelled to write, to draw, and to take wildlife photos, with each art form aiding the others. His writing is marked  by humor, which he considers a form of beauty and a way of life. His short stories have been published in print and across the web, and his latest novel is the fantasy Thora's Dagger.