Finishing the Sequel

"He turned my father into a clock, too." Makos said, feeling helpless all over again. "We still have him, but we don't know how to change him back."

"We?" Larca asked.

"I have an older brother." Makos explained. "His name's Danos."

"He doesn't have magic like you do?" She asked.

Makos shook his head. "I don't think he would like it anyway."

"Why not?" Larca asked, eyes wide in shock. "Who wouldn't want magic?"

"I don't know." Makos replied. "I think my power makes him nervous. I kind of... break a lot of stuff, and having magic doesn't help me out with that."

(If you have been following along, you may notice some inconsistencies in the story. I am taking advantage, yet again, of the fact that this is my first draft. I can go through it again later from start to end and rewrite parts. Notice that the purpose of this blog is for me to practice writing, so I apologize if any changes make things hard to keep track of, though I will add notes as I go along, like this, if I feel any major changes need to be addressed. I will also be giving spoilers throughout for what I plan to write later in the story. Some may turn out to be false alarms. It all depends on how things go when I get to those parts. Also, as I read, I realize my characters are not acting, or more so talking, their ages. I am considering bumping their ages up in the revisions. Who knows?)

"May I see your powers in person?" Larca asked politely.

Makos shrugged his shoulders. "I guess, but you might want to stand behind me. I don't really know how they work yet."

She moved behind him. Makos set his feet in a sturdy stance and took a deep breath. 'I hope this doesn't go too badly...' He thought, then swung one arm out quickly like he was throwing something sideways.

Nothing happened.

"Hmm." He remembered that his waving had made no ripples when the monsters attacked him. He swung his arms around harder several times, but there was still no magic.

Larca suppressed a giggle.

Makos frowned deeply. He kicked a few times toward a tree just to be sure, but there was no response.

"Are you OK?" Larca asked, hiding a humored tone.

"I did it before." He exclaimed. "It stopped working when the monsters tried to eat me." He studied his hands. Why wasn't it working? He was doing everything like he had before, but it was like the magic had left him.

"Well, that's OK." She said, patting him on the shoulder. "You can always try again later."

"I guess." He agreed.

"Would you take me to your house?" Larca asked. "I want to see these clocks. I think I recognized one."

"You did?" Makos asked. "Sure. We should stop back in town first, though. I left my brother back there and he is probably really worried. I was supposed to meet up with him a while ago." Makos hoped Danos hadn't gone to the police to report him missing. His gut felt like it was twisting into a knot. He turned to face Larca and said, "Now that I think about it, I probably shouldn't go into town."

"Why not?" She asked.

"I'm a wanted criminal." He said through a worried expression.

"You?" She asked, then closed her eyes. She put a hand to her mouth and chuckled quietly. "Oh. I see."

"I'm not really a criminal." He said quickly. "I guess my powers just acted up at the wrong time."

Larca smirked at him. "And you pretending to be a rune knight didn't have anything to do with it, I'm sure."

His face grew red.

Makos didn't respond to that, instead noting, "It's this way."

The two moved through the tall evergreens as the sun disappeared behind the mountains in the distance.

-----------------

Danos glanced  at the horizon. It was getting late. The sun was low in the sky, and it would be dusk in a couple of hours. His focus was broken when a tiny cane poked him in the neck.

"Don't get distracted now." The governor glared up at him from within his shirt pocket. "We must hurry. My bones are aching, which means rain. At this size, a raindrop packs a bit more punch."

"Sorry." Danos said, resisting the urge to look at the clouds.

To Be Continued.

(This is a reminder to myself to include a quirk about Makos' magic. Spolier alert. Don't read if you want to be surprised:

(Highlight this next section if you want to see)
Makos and Danos are going to discover that they both share a portion of magic. Often without warning, it will shift from one of them to the other. The power manifests differently for each of them, too.)

Scenes and Sequels

Outlining is good for keeping structured story, but as I write, I find it so easy to slip back into just letting it flow. As you can see in the following bit of story, I don't even stick to the outline of using mistrust. It has become more of a 'sequel', a special kind of scene that happens between conflicts.

Scenes establish conflict. Sequels allow room to get a breather. Scenes are meant to force a character to go through challenges, emotional, mental, physical, moral, etc. Sequels can give them room to address what has happened to them and establish an opinion of what they will do based on what has been learned by the experience.

This isn't the only purpose of sequels, but a good one. The real benefit is giving the immersed readers a break from the stress. If you have a very engaging story, your readers will feel what the characters feel and worry for them. This can be taxing for anyone. Grant a sequel to allow for information to be processed and perhaps a little bit of a happier and hopeful mood.

And now, to the sequel:

"How did you do that?" Makos asked with wide eyes. The girl looked at him with a confused expression. He said, "How did you make that fire? How did you control it, and how did you run all over so fast?"

Larca frowned. "I used magic." She stated matter-of-factly.

"You didn't break anything, well, other than the monsters' tree." He exclaimed. "How did you control it?"

Larca smiled. "My sister taught me." She said.

"Your sister can use magic, too?" He gasped.

"Yes."

"How did you get magic?" Makos asked.

Larca shrugged her shoulders. "I was born with it."

Makos' eyes narrowed. "Before yesterday, I never heard of anyone who even believed magic was real. You can't have had it your whole life."

"Why not?" Larca asked, head tilting to the side while she studied his face carefully.

"Because-" He stammered, "Because there wasn't any magic before yesterday!"

Larca laughed. "You really think that?"

Makos blushed. "Well, yeah! Nobody has magic besides me and the clockmaker."

"Clockmaker?" Larca asked quickly. She took a step closer to Makos and continued. "Where did you see the clockmaker?"

Makos took a step back, then folded his arms and frowned at her. "He came to my home. He's gone now, though." He added when her eyes became intense.

"He left already?" She asked, looking very concerned all of a sudden. "What happened?"

"I sort of..." He rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I didn't mean to, but I used magic against him and kind of threw him miles away."

Larca stared at him.

"What?" He asked, scratching his neck.

"You banished the clockmaker?" She asked incredulously.

"Yeah. I guess so." He admitted. "I didn't mean to, though." He added quickly.

Larca closed her eyes for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. She wrapped her arms around herself and tears began to trickle from the corners of her closed eyelids. Makos was a little nervous seeing this girl lose her balance and fall on her back, only to continue laughing louder than before as she rolled from side to side.

"What's so funny?" He asked when she took a gasp for air.

"You- You!" She said through a series of more laughter.

Makos frowned. "What? Why am I funny?"

Larca took deep breaths and stopped rolling about. She answered, though she couldn't help chuckling between words. "You banished the clockmaker." Her face was red and she opened her eyes, speaking seriously. "I have to stop that. It's too funny."

"Stop what?" He asked, definitely confused.

"I can't close my eyes." She responded. "If I do-" She blinked, then let out a raucous guffaw. "I won't be able to stop." She chuckled quietly to herself as she got to her feet.

Makos' frown returned. "You aren't making sense."

"Sorry." Larca said. "It's one of my magic powers. If I close my eyes, I can see the memories of those around me, and that was hilarious."

"Really?" He asked.

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever seen anything so funny."

"No," He clarified. "I mean you can see memories, too?"

"Yep." She said, smiling. "I can't help it, sorry."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you saw me making those green ripples-" Larca snorted, but quickly composed herself. "that threw him?"

Larca nodded. "He must have been so shocked." She said excitedly. "I bet he's sulking right now." She smiled and gazed to the side.

Makos wondered how she knew so much about the clockmaker. "You've met him before?"

Larca folded her arms. Her jovial mood disappeared. "Yes. I wish I never had."

"Why?" Makos asked.

She looked to the side thoughtfully. "He turned my grandfather into a clock and took him away. My family has tried to get grandpa back, but the clockmaker keeps all of the clocks with him all of the time. It's impossible."

Makos recalled the dozens of clocks spread across his front yard. Each had been unique. He wondered which one had been Larca's grandfather. A realization shook him to his senses. "Your grandpa is in my front yard right now!" He blurted out.

"What?" Larca asked. "He's still there?"

Makos nodded.

"Let me see!" She said. "Try to picture it in your mind. Show me all of the clocks."

Makos closed his eyes and tried to recall each clock he had examined and all of the clocks in the distance from where he and Danos had been that night. He remembered the fish clock especially well and Larca gasped when he thought of it. His memory continued up until he heard his own father's voice muffled behind cracked glass on the face of one particular clock. the voice cut off when the crack mended itself magically.

"Did you see him?" Makos asked. "Where any of those him?"

Larca frowned, eyes sorrowful. "No." She answered. "He wasn't there."

After a moment of silence, she added, "The clockmaker must still have him."


Continuing tomorrow...

Foreshadowing and Red Herrings

Change of plans for today. I'm going to take a Free Day and just have fun.

There's no reason not to pick something to demonstrate, however. And by that I mean I get to practice something new. What should I practice today? So far I have gone over things like conflict, character development, pacing, reader immersion, voice and work-shopping help. What else would be good to go over?

Alright. I admit I have been avoiding one particular topic I don't completely understand. It is an author's tool known as foreshadowing. I have a vague understanding of its purpose, but not quite how to create and employ it. Sounds like time to research.

...

Well, I've read a little on the topic and need to try explaining it so that I can make sense of it. Foreshadowing is used to create a sense of expectancy, of anticipation of something to come, particularly a conflict or plot twist, as I understand it.

One example is writing a book where the personal growth challenge the protagonist needs to overcome is a fear of dying. To foreshadow this, we need to include clues in the character's speech, gestures and expressions of nervousness or even anger when a relative topic is brought up, avoiding thinking about death, perhaps focusing efforts on living longer or forever, or creating some sort of protection through armies, technology, or magical means.

None of these clues will be flashy or obvious. Each needs to be a hinting detail that allows the reader to come to the conclusion by putting pieces together from the mood and reactions and choice of words of your character. The character's thoughts can analyze the environment, but with moody elements in doing so, such as when a friend dies, the protagonist is focused more on worries mixed in with or even in place of sorrow.

Another way to establish the use of foreshadowing is to define its sneaky opposite: Red Herrings.

'Red herring' is a funny name for another tool in writing. It is purposefully foreshadowing to lead readers to a false expectation. Why would anyone ever want to do that to their readers? Well, its obviously because writers have a sick sense of humor. That and it is a genius way to setup plot twists.

If foreshadowing is dropping subtle clues to something very important inevitably happening, red herrings are distractions that perhaps help keep us off of what is really going on while our subconscious mind holds onto the clues for future reference. I must admit that my favorite part of reading is when I have an idea of what is going to happen at the end, what the problem is and how it will be solved, only to be hit by the big reveal that pulls that foundation out from under my feet and amazes me with an equally, if not more, rational answer.

It is one of the only times I am elated when I find out I was completely wrong. In fact, if I was right in my guesses, and I discovered I was right, I would not view the book as having a powerful story. It would feel lacking to me in the enjoyment and 'worth the read' factor.

My very favorite books are those in which I can see the end coming, I know who the real villain is, then clues make me question that and realize I was wrong, then, once I change my guesswork and am sure I now have it all figured out with a smug judgement forming that the book isn't as good as I hoped, only to find that my original guess was correct, my new guess is wrong, and the actual answer is a lot more complex than than I first thought.

That is my 'wow' factor.

If you are familiar with the concept of a paradigm shift, I believe this is a very important part of foreshadowing. The writer must conceal and reveal true and false details through the story so that the reader's perception on the story's world changes, creating new 'Aha!' moments over and over again. These are what make stories so fun!

A warning: If your actual answer, the big reveal behind the story, is not reasonable, it loses all of its kick. By 'reasonable', I don't necessarily mean possible in a real world. More accurately, I mean explainable. There have been enough tiny clues through the whole story indicating that the truth has a place in your story's reality. This is what non-'red herring' foreshadowing is for. All of the clues will come rushing back and we will say "Argh! How did I not see this coming? Its obvious!" Such interjections will immediately be followed by others like "That was so cool!" and "The writer is a literary genius!"

I don't know that I can really create an example today in a short segment of proper foreshadowing, as proper foreshadowing involves lots of clues over time. Instead I will suggest that you may find it very difficult to foreshadow if you don't know what you are foreshadowing. I would say it's impossible to foreshadow well without planning out the major plot points.

The solutions? Outline your plot, then include clues and misdirection as you write, or write your story, then go back later and add in subtle clues at appropriate parts.

Through foreshadowing and applying red herrings, you will be able to turn your adventure into an engaging guessing game that readers will love to try and fail to figure out.

On a side note, this article has completed my fourth week of blogging on the Practice Raft! Woo hoo! Hopefully this is a bit of foreshadowing of things to come and not just a red herring, but I'll leave that up to you to find out. ;)

Time to Outline

Now to introduce Makos to his savior. How should I handle this? As a writer, I need to consider his challenge that I want him to overcome. I've used Deus Ex Machina to save him, but it is for a specific purpose of introducing a new character while creating conflict and demonstrating the character's personality and powers to an extent.

Deus Ex Machina is a term and technique which involves having something new save the day when your characters are unable. It can be a cheap, lazy way to write your characters out of a tight spot, unless you have a specific thing in mind that will be achieved by doing so.

I want to involve someone who can help introduce Makos to the new world of magic. He needs a guide.

He also needs to learn to trust someone his age. Its one of his weaknesses. Perhaps I should have shown more examples of his distrust of his peers while leading up to this point, and I intend to do so in my second draft of the story. I can still show his struggle in this meeting, however.

Today I am going to try to outline the scene. I have been discovery writing so far with minimal planning. The two methods of story creation both have their benefits and an author who can employ techniques from both will have a larger range of tools in their craft. I will write an article on this later, though, so for now: outlining.

Key point: Makos meets Larca.
-She is also nine years old. She was raised in the magical realms.

Key point: Makos distrusts her.

Key point: Makos has no alternative but to learn to trust her, for now.

How am I going to work out the interaction from one step to another with the most conflict without straining the relationship?

Solution: Larca can answer Makos' questions.

Solution: Larca knows how to get back to town.

Solution: Larca can provide further protection.

I will paint in some distrust and embarrassment to add conflict. Larca won't care so much, for now, and reply to his judgements with reasoning. Makos will relent.

Now to use my discovery writing techniques and fill in the blanks:

Paint the scene again.

He looked around cautiously. 'Whoever killed the monsters is probably still out there, somewhere.' He thought. 'If I'm not careful, I might be next.'

He feet made little noise on the dry pine needles. After circling the clearing where the moster tree had fallen without hearing anything besides the wind blowing through the forest, Makos stood straighter and walked out to inspect the burnt tree.

It was covered in soot and almost all of the pine needles were gone. The ground all around it, leading up to the trees nearby, was charred. He noticed how odd it was that none of the surrounding trees had been damaged by the fire besides a little bit of singeing of the ends of needles closest to where the fires had sprung up.

Key point: Makos meets Larca.
-She is also nine years old. She was raised in the magical realms.

Makos moved back to inspect the skeleton of the burned tree. He was nervous what he would find, but wanted a better look at the monsters who had controlled the large pine.

"It's dead."

The voice made Makos jump a foot into the air. He landed clutching his chest and breathing wildly. He spun around and saw a girl standing a couple yards away. She was about his height, had long golden hair that was tied back into a single, thick braid, and her skin was very light, more than he had ever seen on a person. She wore pants and a jacket that looked like it was made out of some sort of leaf-patterned leather, both brown and green. The colors were smoothed into and out of each other throughout the pieces of clothing. Her shirt was a pastel yellow, embroidered around the neck in violet, orange and red thread patterns that made Makos think about stars amidst falling leaves.

He realized he hadn't said anything once he noticed her smiling at him. "Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm Larca." She said.

He frowned. That was a strange name.

"Well?" She said.

"Well what?" He asked.

"What's your name?" She eyed him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, right." Makos replied. "I'm Makos." Something occurred to him. This girl had burned the monsters. He took a step back. "You killed them."

"Yes." She agreed. She turned to look at the remains of the tree and her eyes grew sad. "I didn't want to burn the tree, but they weren't going to leave it."

Continued tomorrow...

Whew...

I've gained a little more insight on what Makos needs to face in his confrontations. He has trouble with other kids picking on him. He is a bit of a loner. He resents other kids his age automatically, feeling like they all judge him. He needs to make friends and learn to trust them.

Let's introduce a new friend.

Makos scrambled away on hands and feet with his back to the ground. He kept going until he bumped his head on another tree.

The monsters in the tree growled at him, "You better not try to run." They said, both voices the same, yet in eerie harmony to each other. "We will only get hungrier."

Makos picked himself off of the pine needle-strewn ground and ran in the opposite direction of the monsters as fast as he could while craning his neck to make sure they didn't follow.

Instead of climbing down the tree and chasing him, he was horrified to see the trunk of the tree divide from the ground up several feet. It formed into two legs. Feet of roots pried themselves out of the earth and the tree started walking after him.

Makos turned to look the way he was running and hit his face on a thick branch. His momentum carried on through his legs, which slipped on layers of dry pine needles. He fell onto his back and bumped his head hard on the ground.

For a moment, all he could remember was that he had been running from something. He tried to recall what it was, but the dancing specks in his vision made it hard to concentrate. In a few seconds, his sight came back into focus and the nauseous feeling passed. The first thing he saw was a giant pine branch shaped like a hand reach over him to pick him up. Everything came back at once, including his terror.

Just as the green, bristly hand was beginning to wrap its fingers around him, a flash of light blinded him. His vision cleared a moment later and he saw the branch was severed from the rest of the monster tree, smouldering where it had been broken.

A loud, discordant scream shook the air. Makos twisted his neck further to see the giant tree holding its damaged arm with the remaining hand. "I'll eat you first!" The monsters roared.

"You don't even know where I am." A calm voice replied.

They giant tree turned its 'head' back and forth. The yellow eyes searched high and low, but didn't seem to be having any luck locating whoever had spoken. "Come out! Stop hiding. We're going to catch you either way, so just give up."

A child's laughter came from many directions, switching from left to right, far to near. Makos tried to find who was laughing and was surprised when he saw the silhouette of someone small dashing between the trees. The person moved so quickly, he could only see the after image like a blurry shadow, but couldn't manage to keep track of it the whole time, even though tree branches shook lightly wherever it went.

Eventually, the laughing stopped and the rustling of the trees calmed down. The same quiet voice spoke again. "My plans don't include you catching anything, so there goes your argument." More laughter broke out. The sky was beginning to darken, Makos noticed, and he could see several glowing dots of light amidst the trees surrounding the monsters' tree.

"What is this?" The monsters cried out, their voices quaking in anger. Makos thought he recognized a hint of fear in it.

"Give up." The hider spoke. "I will let you go if you promise to never touch the evergreen trees again."

"I won't." The monsters said. "Won't promise!" The tree swung its good arm into a nearby tree, breaking off many branches from one side, though the arm remained undamaged.

The glowing dots of light closest to the monsters burst into flames. The flames spread down to the ground and lit the dry needles. A large fire grew into a roaring wall in seconds. It moved toward the monstrous tree like a towering wave, ready to crash down at any second. The monstrous tree took several steps backwards before turning around completely and running to the other side of the ring of trees.

It was met by more dim lights bursting alight. In fact, the monstrous tree tried to escape from several directions, but was hindered by more fires. The childish laughter rang out again from one side of the fiery ring. "You should have promised."

It wasn't long before the terrible screaming finally stopped. Makos was frozen in fear. He stared as the tree fell to its knees while flames engulfed it.

When the monsters had been silent for several minutes, he fire weakened all over. In a few moments, it shrank from roaring walls to tiny flickers of flame licking the charred form of a tree skeleton.

Makos almost wandered out before he remembered he had no idea who had started the fires. He didn't know if whoever it was would be friendly or a new enemy.

After minutes had passed and nobody spoke from the shadows, Makos creeped out of his own hiding place under some low-sweeping pine branches.

Interview #1

I feel like I need to flesh out my characters a bit more. Discovering them as I go is fun, but in order to get a feel for where they need to grow, I am going to do an interview with my characters that will reveal more about what matters to them and what are their weakness and strengths.

Interviewing Makos:

Q. What's your full name?

A. Makos Rendridge Highwhistle.

Q. How old are you?

A. I'm nine.

Q. What do you want to do when you grow up?

A. I'm going to tame dragons.

Q. Aren't dragons make-believe?

A. Yeah.

Q. Ok. Well, suppose you did something else. What would it be?

A. I want to find treasure.

Q. Like a pirate's treasure?

A. Yeah. Also treasure left behind by ancient civilizations.

Q. How are you going to find this treasure?

A. Well, I just have to tame a big enough dragon. Then I could name him 'Treasure Sniffer' or maybe 'Gold Scales.' We would fly around searching for it until he could smell it.

Q. Hmm. Sounds like you've planned this out.

A. Yeah. I'm good at planning.

Q. What do you like to do for fun?

A. I climb on top of big boulders.

Q. You don't climb trees?

A. Everyone does that. Boulders are more of a challenge. There's no branches.

Q. What do you do on top of a boulder?

A. Throw rocks at bullies.

Q. You throw rocks at them? Isn't that a little harsh?

A. Not really. Think about it. Would you rather get hit by a rock or a squirrel?

Q. ... I don't know.

A. I'd rather get hit by a rock. A squirrel can give you fleas, plus they bite and are unpredictable. With a rock, at least you know what you are getting. Much more humane.

Q. Are there many bullies that bother you?

A. Not anymore. I have a large stockpile of rocks on my boulders. If I run out, all I have to do is jump to another boulder.

Q. What do you do if they climb up on the boulder, too?

A. They can't. It's too hard.

Q. What about you? How are you able to climb them?

A. Hold on. Let me take off my socks.

Q. ...

A. See? I have extra long toes thanks to my dragon blood. I can grip the boulder with my hands and feet.

Q. Ah. Of course.

A. I can also breath fire.

Q. Really? Would you mind demonstrating?

A. Nah. It hurts to much.

Q. I guess that makes sense.

A. Yeah.

Q. Let's see. What's your favorite memory?

A. I remember going to see the fireworks parade in Gund with my family. That was back when my mom was still alive. There were explosions everywhere in all kinds of colors. They even let me light one of the big rockets. It was gold and green and sounded like an eagle.

Q. Do you miss your mom?

A. ...

Q. I'm sorry. It must be hard talking about her still.

A. It's OK. I do miss her. I just don't want to think about it.

Q. Alright. How about this: What's the best dream you've ever had?

A. Well, I haven't had it yet. I'm still working out the details, but it's going to be really good.

Q. You are designing your dream?

A. Of course.

Q. Hmm. What is it going to be about?

A. I don't want to spoil it, yet, but it will have a lot of dragons and treasure.

Q. I see.

A. It's going to be really good, though.

Q. What are you afraid of?

A. Nothing.

Q. Don't you get scared when it's dark?

A. Sure, but I don't let it bother me.

Q. So you feel fear, but you dismiss it?

A. No, I throw rocks at it if it makes noises. I have a lot of rocks under my pillow.

Q. Don't you get in trouble for throwing rocks in the house?

A. If it wakes Danos up, I just pretend to be asleep. He always thinks it was his nightmares or something and falls back to sleep.

Trouble

Makos' breath caught in his throat. Very slowly, he looked up. He didn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" He said, scrambling backwards. He tripped over his own feet and landed on his backside.

"Just me." The deep voice answered. Makos followed the sound high up into the top, sweeping, green branches of a large pine tree. There, peeking from under two boughs was a pair of big, yellow eyes. They were glowing from deep within the branches and about two feet apart, from what he could see.

Makos' jaw flapped open and closed. Nothing came out of his mouth, though.
Finally, he spoke, "W-who are you?"

The boughs lowered, concealing the eyes one at a time, and the voice replied, "Me? The name's Rory."

Makos was about to say something, but the voice cut him off. "Actually, I'm Ubert." The boughs lifted again and the yellow eyes stared down at him.

"What?" Makos asked. "Is it Rory or Ubert?"

"Rory." The voice paused. "Ubert." The boughs lowered again. A rumbling chuckle shook the whole tree.

Makos crossed his arms. "You're confusing." He stated.

The boughs lifted again and bent at angles to apear like angry eyebrows. "At least I'm not lost."

Makos frowned. "I'm not lost!" He exclaimed. "I'm just hiding."

"Oh." Rory-Ubert replied. "I suppose that means you're our guest, then."

"Our?" Makos said.

"My." The voice answered.

"Is there someone else here?" Makos asked.

"Just us."

Makos watched the yellow eyes look to the sides quickly before settling on him again. He wondered what exactly he was dealing with, so he asked. "What are you?"

"That's rude." The voice said. "He treats me like a monster. No he doesn't. He is just confused. He said so himself."

Makos saw the eyes cross while the right eyebrow bent into a scowl and the left curved in a worried expression. He almost laughed at the sight of it.

"Now he's mocking me!" Rory-Ubert said. "Calm down, he's just a kid. They don't get a sense of decency for a few years."

When Makos heard that he frowned even deeper, with angry eyebrows. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. I've just never seen anything like you before."

The tree shook to more chuckling, then leaned forward as if to get a closer look. "Yeah. I guess he is just a small brat still."

Makos grew even more frustrated. He didn't like it when Danos called him a kid. Hearing it from this strange tree wasn't consolation to him.

The tree bent down further. "Do you think he tastes better than normal?" The voice seemed to ask itself. "Maybe. You never know what an atittude like that will do to the flavor." Makos heard a loud sniffing noise and wind lifted his hair up.

Makos felt his blood go cold, and he crawled back a little further from the tree.

"Reminds me of that rotting goat carcass we found last October." Rory-Ubert said, leaning back a bit. "Yeah. I really enjoyed that one, too."

The tree leaned further in, this time. "I suppose a taste wouldn't hurt? Would it? Of course not. Hey kid," The tree called out, "Stick out your arm a bit, would you?"

The branches reached close enough to brush the top of his head. Panicking, Makos squeezed his eyes shut and swung his hands wildly in front of him.

"Yeah, like that. Now, hold 'em still."

Makos' eyes popped open. Why wasn't his power working? The tree should have been blown to pieces in an instant.

"Come on, play along." The tree said while both eyes stared at him intensely through the boughs.

In his terror, Makos noticed something. The eyes each belonged to a different face. Both faces had a huge eye socket planted right in the middle of a wrinkly forehead. Below that, mouths bore sharp fangs and tusks turning up on the left face and down on the right. Both were licking their tusks hungrily.

A drop of spittle stretched down and broke, landing on his hand. It smelled horrible.