Molly spungle : The Secret of Red Stone

Molly spotted the bright orange flames from a long distance away. Her face paling from shock and fear, she screamed, “He’s burning my home! We must stop him!”

Ran-Da raced ahead and soon his riders dismounted, all trying to peer through the Invisible Divide. Molly increased her speed, her wings a blur in the sky.

To the fairy’s dismay, the walls of the Invisible Divide had risen again during their long absence. Smoke billowed inside the walls, making it difficult to see clearly what awaited them inside. “Without the music of the red rose trees, there is no way to enter!” she cried in panic.

Molly pulled the yellow wand from her pocket, waving it desperately toward the Invisible Divide. However, this time there were no silvery chimes and the fairy realized her powerful magic had not been strong enough to last as long as it usually did. All she could hear was a faint tinkling sound as the wand’s magic left it. She had been lucky it had healed her wings.

Molly was beside herself, worried that the villagers who had stayed behind were captured or worse. The walls withstood even Ran-Da’s attempts to knock them down with his mighty strength and his fiery breath.

Both King Simon and his faithful servant looked grim as they viewed the burning village.

“Are you absolutely certain that there is no way to create an opening in these walls?” the king asked, urgently.

Suddenly, for the second time, Molly heard a woman’s voice thundering through the air. “You must caress the red stone three times!”

King Simon and Hoddi looked around in surprise and confusion. Their weapons were ready as they searched the skies for the origin of the voice.

“Of course!” Molly cried. “The red stone!” Rubbing her fingers across the pendant three times, she declared, “Open to us, Invisible Divide!”

The booming sound that immediately filled the air was deafening. A flash of blinding light cut through the dark clouds leaving a long thin trail of brilliance. The portion of the walls in front of them disappeared.

Ran-Da did not hesitate, entering the smoky village first. The others followed, uneasy about what they might find. Smoke enveloped the group as they moved forward, stinging their eyes and throats. Its bitter, pungent odor covered them from head to foot.

Desperately searching for any villagers, the small group found it difficult to make out anything through the thick vapor. Choking and coughing, they fought their way through it, covering as much of their faces as possible. Their progress was slow.

Jar-Ed had been swift in exacting his revenge. Houses were aflame, sparks flying everywhere. They walked through the smouldering ashes, searching for any sign of survivors. Many of the windows, still standing from the charred remains of homes, had splintered and cracked from the heat of the flames. Beautiful grounds, their grass turned brown, were destroyed. Bushes and flowers were hacked to pieces. Even the red rose trees were chopped down, their blossoms scattered about.

Molly picked up a picture that was so charred it fell apart in her hands. She wiped away tears of dismay and deep sadness when she came across personal possessions strewn about the yards of each Spungle home. In front of her own small house, Molly found that the mystic receptacle where new wands were forming had been dragged outside and overturned. Its contents, of partially completed wands, lay beside it. In and out of the small houses the searchers continued, each heart shattered by Jar-Ed’s senseless destruction.

“Obviously the magic he uses is not for the good of anyone!” spoke King Simon in disgust, looking warily around for any sign of the evil sorcerer. Wearily, he wiped the soot from his face with his shirt sleeve. His wavy brown hair was matted, hanging in clumps to his broad shoulders.

The group had come up empty handed in their search and walked with discouraged footsteps to the last building in the village. It housed the offices of the governing officials and it was the last place left to search. Strangely, this building was not as damaged as the rest. The flames had not reached it. However, its walls were almost completely coated in ash and sooty particles.

“Why did Jar-Ed leave this place unburned?” the king wondered, feeling uneasy.

“I can think of only one reason,” said Hoddi, glaring meaningfully into his master’s face, his ash covered wisps of hair standing upright.

“And I,” replied the king. “He must be hiding in there!” Deciding on caution, he refused to allow anyone to enter. “I wonder if he knows we are here?” he remarked, looking suspiciously at the one building the sorcerer had not set afire.

“I will scout around the back and see what I can find,” offered Hoddi.

“Be very careful,” warned the king. “Jar-Ed cannot be trusted at all as we have already found out.” Brushing his hair out of his face, his thick brows drawn together, King Simon looked worried.

Hoddi was gone before the king had finished speaking. A short time later the front door of the building opened and Hoddi stood there. “There’s no one here,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“No one?” Molly cried out. “Where are they?” The fairy wondered if she looked as bedraggled as she felt with her sooty clothes and smoky hair, now streaked with grey ash. Her dark green eyes reflected the pain of her tangled emotions at the destruction of her home.

Visibly shaken, King Simon strode to the door and entered the building. He had fully expected the sorcerer and the leaders of the village to be there.

Even though the windows were closed tightly, smoke had managed to seep in. The floors and windows were covered in dull, grey ash. It was deathly quiet and dark inside, the sun’s rays unable to find their way through the dirty windows.

“I could not see through the window, so I sneaked quietly in through the door at the back,” Hoddi informed the others.

“You might have been harmed had Jar-Ed been here,” frowned King Simon. “Next time inform me first,” he reprimanded Hoddi gently.

They searched every room in the house, finding no sign of anyone. Discouraged and wondering where to go next, a sudden noise outside surprised them. A low rumbling sound began in Ran-Da’s throat as if he sensed danger.

“What is that!” exclaimed King Simon. His hand flew to the knife tucked into his waistband.