Free Good Ogre by Platte F. Clark Page B

announced.
    â€œOr their toilet trenches,” Glenn added.
    â€œCome on, we’re wasting time,” Max said, motioning toward the bridge. They crossed in twos: Max and Wayne in the lead, followed by Sarah and Dirk, Puff and Dwight, Megan and Sydney, and finally Melvin. As Max walked, he felt the weight of the Codex of Infinite Knowability hanging from his shoulder. And while he didn’t particularly enjoy the swishing of the blue robe he was wearing (it reminded him of one of his mother’s dresses), he was glad to have the Codex close.
    â€œI think we should call ourselves ‘the Nine,’” Melvin announced from the back. “I might start working on a poem with that as the title.”
    â€œJust do it in your head,” Dwight called back. “Or I’ll be changing it to ‘the Eight.’”
    On the other side of the river they found the trail. There had been pine-covered foothills outside Madison before, but nothing like the sudden eruption of giant slabs of rock and earth that rose ahead of them. They paused for a moment to take it in before continuing in rows of two down the winding path. They had traveled a half mile or so when the trail opened into a small clearing and Max came to an abrupt stop. Ahead of him a squirrel stood in the middle of the trail (not that a squirrel standing on its hind legs was a stop-worthy event, but one wearing a sword and armor was).
    â€œHa!” Dirk exclaimed, pointing at it. “Look at that squirrel. It thinks it’s people.”
    â€œNone shall pass!” the squirrel knight squeaked ominously. The squirrel held a shield adorned with a purple-and-red sigil with a gold acorn, and on its side was strapped a miniature sword. Behind the rodent knight was a large field that led to scattered dwellings in the distance. Max could see the distinctive shape of the distinctive mermaid weather vane that had belonged to Old Man Peterson. The weather vane had been an irritant and source of embarrassment to the neighborhood for years.
    â€œI’ll handle this,” Melvin announced, hurrying tothe front of the group. He faced the squirrel, bowing. “Woodland creature, I am of that royal lineage known as elf.” He rose and motioned with his hand. “We are bound together by our respect for the harmony of nature. Do not be afraid; we come in—”
    Boink!
    Something brown had whizzed through the air and smacked Melvin in the head. He stumbled backward, nearly stepping on the acorn that had hit him. “Ouch!” Melvin exclaimed, rubbing his head and dropping his bow. “Someone threw a nut!”
    The squirrel drew its sword.
    â€œWhat’s the matter,” Dirk mocked, pointing at Melvin, “never LARPed with a squirrel before?”
    There was a definite welt forming on Melvin’s forehead, and Megan hurried over to take a closer look.
    â€œTurn around, humans ,” the squirrel demanded, saying the last word with as much enthusiasm as if chewing on cat litter.
    â€œYou mean to tell me that when a portal between the worlds opens, the best the Shadrus can do is this?” Dwight laughed, pointing at the squirrel. “All the hamsters must be terrified.”
    â€œUh, I’m not sure mocking him is such a good idea,” Puff suggested.
    â€œDo not press me further,” the squirrel knight continued, his face furrowed into a frown. “You have been warned.”
    â€œLook, we don’t want any trouble,” Sarah jumped in. “We just need to get past and we’ll be on our way.”
    â€œWe’re looking for other people like us,” Sydney added, trying to be helpful. “You know . . . humans. So, I guess not so much like me right now, but how I used to be. Not that you’d know that, silly me. I wish I had some peanut butter to give you and maybe we could be friends.”
    The armored squirrel shook its head and took a step forward. “There are no other