Mystery of Halloween

     “Never said I didn’t,” Hutchincroft replied, and though his tone was even, his own petal-pink wings twitched in agitation. As a Faerie Cybunny, he could hop or fly, but right now—already a little on edge with it being All Hallows' Eve—he chose to stay grounded. Hutchincroft bounced along behind his brother, following Bluebeigh’s lead.

     Faerie City carried a comforting, seasonal mood today: trees showered the pair with their discarded red and yellow plumage, the scent of Cheese Flower Crackers wafted from the open window of Faerie Foods, and the waterfall rumbled at a muffled, comforting distance. Yet despite the charming fall atmosphere, Hutchincroft felt a flicker of unease. He kept it to himself, though, not wanting to dampen Bluebeigh’s spirits.

     Bells twinkled as they entered Faerieland Bookshop, and Bluebeigh touched down politely, trotting toward the nearest shelves on all fours. Hutchincroft followed, shaking off the golden and amber leaves that still clung to his downy fur. He cast a backward glance at the Library Faerie—who was seated at the front desk, peering over an open book with a slight smile—before pursuing his brother into the dimness of the alcoves.

     “You seem like you know what you’re looking for,” the Cybunny remarked to the Poogle, a little suspiciously.

     “Perhaps,” Bluebeigh tossed back with a wolfish grin. The elder brother continued walking until they reached the back of the bookshop, where he stopped suddenly. Hutchincroft skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding the sweep of his sibling’s wings.

     “There it is!” cried the Poogle. He bounded upward, seized a book from the topmost shelf, flapped his wings for theatrics, and dropped back down again. The volume was butter-yellow, and Hutchincroft noticed the scarlet and penetrating eyes of the Brain Tree on its cover. The title read Mystery of Halloween.

     “What do you need this for?” asked Hutchincroft, unable to tear his gaze from the piercing red orbs of the haunted tree.

     Bluebeigh said nothing, his attention already fixed on the task at hand. He flipped through the book rapidly, seeming to land on its exact middle. From around his neck, he lifted a necklace that had escaped Hutchincroft’s notice. Its silver chain held a simple glass vial.

     Inside the bottle was something glittering and crimson, much the same colour as the haunting eyes of the Brain Tree.

     “What is that?” Hutchincroft asked, a little alarmed.

     “A teleportation spell,” Bluebeigh answered, almost distractedly as he uncorked the vial. “I invented it, and now I’m going to test it.”

     “And what exactly is in it?” Hutchincroft pressed him, feeling very uneasy now.

     “A shredded Air Spell Scroll, some Bloodberry Elixir,” Bluebeigh listed, then his face darkened. “And something else.”

     Before Hutchincroft could ask what this something else might be, or why his brother needed a teleportation spell at all, Bluebeigh was shoving the open book into his paws. In a flurry of motion—no doubt done quickly to avoid Hutchincroft’s protests—the Poogle emptied the glittering contents into his right paw, linked his left arm with his brother, and tossed the glitter high above their heads. As it descended, a scene entirely different from Faerieland Bookshop appeared behind each dust trail, until they had been transported somewhere else entirely.

     —

     Completely bewildered, the first thing Hutchincroft sensed was the soft hooting of Whoots. This place was very dark, and as his eyes adjusted, he noticed many other things, too. They were encircled by a thicket of skeletal trees, their thin branches clawing at the sky like a witch’s fingers. The cooling touch of mist permeated the clearing, and Vullards perched above the fog on many boughs. Some opened their wings and shifted their weight menacingly; others simply stared down at them with accusatory glares.

     “Where are we?” Hutchincroft breathed and realised he still had the open book in his arms. He looked down at it dumbly, as if it would give him answers. When he glanced back at Bluebeigh, he noticed his brother was wearing an awestruck expression.

     “I… did it…” the Poogle murmured up at the trees, before breaking out into raucous laughter. Bluebeigh flew into the air and zoomed around the Cybunny in ecstatic circles. “I DID IT! MY SPELL WORKED! HUTCH, WE’RE INSIDE THE BOOK!”

     Hutchincroft’s paws clutched the tome in his arms a little tighter, and he glanced around the clearing in total confusion. “But…why are we inside a book? And why this one specifically?”

     “Because it’s my favourite one!” came Bluebeigh’s reply; he was almost breathless from the elation, as well as the speed of his flying. The Poogle touched down again and motioned toward the yellow volume in his sibling’s embrace. “I wanted to see if I could actually enter the world inside a book. You know, total immersion! And I did it!”

     “But isn’t Mystery of Halloween just…an informative book on the history of Halloween?” Hutchincroft asked, still completely overwhelmed and unsure of how to process what was happening.

     “It’s so much more than that!” Bluebeigh exclaimed. Though his voice still rang with delight, Hutchincroft detected a faint note of offence. “It’s also a—”

     “WHO GOES THERE?” interrupted a thunderous voice from the far side of the clearing, startling several Whoots and Vullards into flight.

     Hutchincroft and Bluebeigh exchanged stunned glances, but the Poogle recovered quickly, seemingly determined to remain unafraid. He wandered tenaciously forward through the mist.

     Hutchincroft set the book onto the ground, and hopped after his brother with dread burrowing into the pit of his stomach. Dead leaves crackled beneath their heavy paws as they approached the glowing red eyes of the Brain Tree. Its mental core was monstrously huge, and though Hutchincroft didn’t sense it was evil, he was anxious all the same.

     “WHAT…ARE YOU DOING…IN MY FOREST?” boomed the tree, once the brothers had assembled before it.

     “I’m here to experience the book,” Bluebeigh called to it, but his voice sounded small, and carried less conviction than before. A loud creaking emanated from the tree–a displeased sound, like the groan of a giant wooden ship–and the Crokabeks that perched on its extending branches opened their wings, cawed down at them, and shifted threateningly.

     “I’m here to learn from you!” Bluebeigh tried again, but still this answer did not satisfy the ancient sentinel, and the sudden gust from its roaring response swept through their fur.

     “YOU’VE…MEDDLED…WHERE YOU…SHOULD NOT HAVE.”

     Hutchincroft glanced around the clearing as the tree spoke, and noticed every Whoot, Vullard and Crokabek seemed very incensed now. They were screeching as loud as they could, and opening their wings to prepare for an attack. The Cybunny reached toward his brother.

     “We need to get out of here, Blue,” Hutchincroft whispered, still watching the petpets looming in the branches. “We need to get out of here NOW!”

     “But I don’t understand,” Bluebeigh was saying, sounding small and helpless. He spoke as if this were merely a dream he would wake from at any moment, oblivious to the gravity of their predicament. “My spell worked. I should be able to experience the book! I have so many questions, ever since I was little…I have so many things I want the Brain Tree to clarify!”

     “YOU…DO NOT MAKE…DEMANDS…OF ME!” cried the tree, furiously.

     Its enormous branches surged forward in a burst of rage, nearly knocking Bluebeigh to the ground, though Hutchincroft pulled him back just in time. They were sprinting now, back toward the book at the other side of the clearing. The wrathful petpets were descending toward them from above, beaks agape to screech and scream, sharp talons ready to tear at soft fur. They wouldn’t make it in time. The book was too far!

     Suddenly, a Green Ixi clad in tattered brown garb appeared behind them. Hutchincroft spun around just as she extended a paw, enveloping the raptors in an emerald glow that slowed their movements to a crawl. The brothers stared, dumbfounded.

     “Go!” the stranger pleaded, her voice clear and bright. “I reopened that portal for you, and I can only hold them off for so long!”

     “Who are you?” Bluebeigh couldn’t help asking, his awe and admiration plain.

     “My name is Sophie,” she announced, and the name itself seemed to command attention. “A bit of advice from the wisest witch in these parts: DON’T MESS WITH BOOKS!”

     Hutchincroft noticed the infuriated raptors accelerating within the emerald orb that held them. He grabbed his brother, and together they sprinted the rest of the way, leaping one after the other into the contents of the book as the cacophony of screeching petpets stormed in their wake.

     —

     “Finding everything okay?”

     Hutchincroft blinked up at the cheery face of the Library Faerie; he appeared to be sprawled on the floor of Faerieland Bookshop with Bluebeigh beside him. He heard his brother groan. Hutchincroft scrambled to his feet, dusting red glitter from his legs.

     “I…we’re…okay,” he stammered, before composing himself. “Thank you.”

     The Library Faerie kept her smile as she leaned from her wheelchair to retrieve Mystery of Halloween from the floor. Bluebeigh rose to his own feet, embarrassed.

     “Perhaps that’s enough browsing for today,” the faerie mused, humorously. “You two look like you could use a nap.”

     She turned her chair and began wheeling back toward the front desk. “Oh, and a bit of advice from the wisest faerie in these parts,” she added without turning around. “Don’t mess with books.”

     The air outside felt distinctly different to Hutchincroft than it had before. Bluebeigh walked slowly behind him, muttering to himself in frustrated, bewildered tones.

     “Why didn’t it work? I just don’t understand. Maybe that third ingredient was a stupid idea. I still have so many questions! Maybe I didn’t say the right thing? I just don’t get it…”

     The distant waterfall sounded rather enchanting now, and the fragrance wafting from Faerie Foods was the irresistible scent of Faerie Bread. The crisp autumn breeze ruffled Hutchincroft’s fur, and he closed his eyes against it, savouring the cool spirals of freedom weaving between each strand. Suddenly, he flew up into the air before Bluebeigh. His brother stared up at him, dumbfounded.

     “You know, I think I’m going to fly home,” Hutchincroft announced, laughing.

     As he glided away through the bustling city, he turned back just once to call to his sibling, “Happy Halloween, Big Brother!”

     The End.