Free The Woodcutter by Kate Danley; © Lolloj / Fotolia Page A

pixie drank hungrily.
     
    And then fell asleep.
     
    The Peddler stepped back, all cunningness gone. Only fear remained as he said, “I have met many strange men upon my journey…”
     
    The Woodcutter looked at him, “And so you have today.”
     
    “What make of man are you?”
     
    The Woodcutter knew he could not deny the clear blood that seeped from the wound. He looked down at the small sprite that had forced him to reveal his true face, “I am one with the trees, a cutting of my father, and of his father, and of his father before him. I was born of the earth and not the womb.”
     
    The Peddler whistled low and with wonder, “A walking talking wood cutting. Well, I thought I had seen everything.”
     
    The Woodcutter looked at him seriously, “Do not venture into the Wood, my friend. The danger is great.”
     
    The Peddler took out the coffee grinder once more and began turning the crank in reverse. The objects flew through the air and disappeared back into the grinder’s mouth.
     
    “I’ll take your word for it.”
     
    The Woodcutter felt something in his pocket grow heavy, “I must give you payment for this little one.”
     
    He pulled out the three seeds and poured them into the Peddler’s palm.
     
    “Now, what am I going to do with three seeds?”
     
    “They are magic,” said the Woodcutter.
     
    The Peddler turned them over in his hand, “Seeds, you say? They look a bit like beans. Maybe I’ll get someone to trade me a cow for them or something.”
     
    He laughed hard at his joke.
     
    “Well, hardly seems fair, trading one injured pixie for three magic…beans… Seems I’m still in your debt,” he put his finger to his nose, “One pixie for one bean. How about I pass you some information for that second bean?”
     
    The Woodcutter nodded.
     
    The Peddler pointed down the wooden road, “You’ll come to an intersection ahead. Make sure to take the left hand fork or go straight ahead. There’s an odd house to the right, an odd house with an odder group of people. I went in thinking the kitchen staff might be interested in something I had to sell, but instead I found this little one, practically drained. Keep to your left or straight ahead. You don’t need to be venturing to your right. Beyond that house is a village and a sorry kingdom that has been nothing since the Princess disappeared.”
     
    The Woodcutter looked at him sharply, “Disappeared?”
     
    “Disappeared. She was a sad little thing. Hadn’t smiled in years. The King said anyone that could make her smile, why he could marry her, sure thing. But one day she went to bed and the next day she was gone. The King and Queen went mad. Threw themselves from a cliff. Can’t say I blame them, but the town’s in a mess as they try to find an heir from all the people walking around with only red blood.”
     
    The Woodcutter felt the pixie stir.
     
    The Peddler wiped his face with a red handkerchief, “Meanwhile, some boy came through carrying a golden goose and everyone who tries to touch the boy gets stuck. Don’t know if they ever found a way out.”
     
    The Peddler rolled the seeds in his palm, “Well, seems that I still owe you one more thing to pay off the balance for…these…”
     
    He went to his wagon and closed his eyes. He took a giant breath and allowed his hands to rest upon an object.
     
    “I suppose this is for you,” he said. It was a medium sized package. “I guess you shouldn’t open it until you’re supposed to.”
     
    The Woodcutter nodded and placed it inside his pack.
     
    The Peddler climbed up into the seat of his cart, “Travel well, Woodcutter.”
     
    “Travel well, Peddler.”
     
    “Well traded, my friend! Well traded!” he cried as his cart and the cowbell disappeared into the mist.
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
    Chapter 28
     
     
     
    The Woodcutter went straight at the crossroads. The chosen path left the Twelve Kingdoms, but provided a shortcut to the far side of the