Choose Your Own Misadventure - 1

Lorcan was the sort of lad who kept his head down—and not just in the sense that Grandpa tended to throw things when he got too much bourbon in him. No, Lorcan liked to mind his own business. He did his chores, didn’t ask his elders questions, and whenever possible took refuge in the solitude offered by the forest surrounding his family home. Life was simpler in the mountain woods than it was in the crowded, sprawling homestead that Lorcan’s family dwelt in atop Weyrd Mountain.

Weyrd Mountain had been so named by Lorcan’s great grandfather, who had been a barely literate bandit on the run after committing some kind of terrible crime that he had never confessed to, even on his death bed. Great Grandpa had intended to call the place Weird Mountain due to all the strange things that tended to happen there, but no one from the nearby village had had the courage to correct his spelling when he put up a sign directing the townsfolk to the newly built Weyrd Mountain Still. Great Grandpa had made a decent living selling the booze he brewed, married the supposedly evil witch that haunted the mountain, and raised three children, all of whom turned out to be mostly insane.

Whether madness was something they picked up over time or just a family trait, there was a good reason most of the townspeople avoided Lorcan’s family unless they had some sort of business with them. That was why Lorcan was particularly surprised to come across a young girl as he wandered through the woods that day.

She looked much younger than Lorcan, he guessed she was eight or nine at the most, and she was soaked to the bone from the heavy rain that, as usual, pelted Weyrd Mountain relentlessly. The girl had reddish-gold hair cascading down her back in a wild tangle the like of which Lorcan had never seen. She wore a fancy purple dress that was spattered with mud and not at all suited to an extended venture into the forest during a rainstorm.

“Are you lost?” Lorcan asked hesitantly as he pulled off his coat with the intention of offering it to the girl. She was shivering and appeared to be sobbing softly.

The girl spun around with startling agility and grabbed from the ground beside her—of all things—a tiny sword perfectly sized for a small girl! “Stay back!” She warned, her voice cool and even.

Lorcan looked perplexedly from the girl’s angelic face to the sword that appeared to be—if the blood stain on the tip was any indication—deadly sharp. “I…uh…what?”

She lowered her sword slightly and her green eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare. “Are you stupid or something? I mean, Anna told me not to call people like you stupid. You’re just a little slow. But it doesn’t really matter what Anna says now, does it?” She suddenly winced and clutched her side, but kept her eyes locked on Lorcan and raised her sword back to a more aggressive position.

Lorcan’s eyes darted immediately to the now obvious wound to the girl’s side. “You’re bleeding!” He gasped, then muttered, “And quite a lot, at that. Wonder how she’s still standing—never mind that now!” Ignoring the girl’s sword for a moment, Lorcan rummaged through the pockets of his coat, which was still dangling in his left hand from when he had intended to offer it to the little girl.

“What are you doing? I said stay back!” She shouted as she edged backwards away from Lorcan.

“Calm down.” Lorcan shushed her dismissively. “You’re injured. Were you bitten or scratched?”

“Scratched, I guess.” She lowered her sword somewhat and eyed Lorcan warily.

Once he had found the cleaning salve and a bandage in his multitude of pockets, Lorcan knelt beside the girl and gently widened the gash in her expensive dress so he could see the wound.

She lowered her sword entirely, but kept a close eye on Lorcan as he worked. “Are you some kind of healer’s apprentice?”

“Something like that,” Lorcan answered distractedly. The single cut was fairly shallow, but it stretched the length of her ribcage and was incredibly straight. Too straight, in fact, to be a scratch from an animal. “What exactly was it that scratched you?”

The girl shifted her feet nervously. “A sword,” she admitted.

“Who would try to kill a little girl with a sword?” Lorcan was taken aback.

“None of your business!” She spat back at him angrily. “And I’m not little, I’m nine!”

Lorcan took a deep, calming breath. “Of course not. I was just surprised that you had been attacked by a person. I’m used to treating animal bites and scratches or broken bones from falls.”

Her eyes widened and she looked nervously down at Lorcan’s hands as he applied the salve and cleaned her wound. “So you’ve never treated a sword cut before? Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Lorcan chuckled. “I am. I’ve treated more than a few stabbings. Festivals get pretty rowdy at my house and all of my uncles—and a few of my aunts, too—get a little violent after they finish their first jugs of whiskey.”

“People get drunk and stab each other at festivals in your family? That is so cool!” She exclaimed with unmitigated glee.

“Cool?” Lorcan asked as he began applying the bandage.

The girl rolled her eyes as though she thought he were a simple minded idiot again. “Cool. You know: great, fun, interesting, not a boring, stuffy social event to showcase the family’s prestige!”

“Ah, I see. Though, I wouldn’t know anything about family prestige. Most of my relatives are drunken lunatics.” Lorcan stood, his hasty bandage would hold until he got the girl back to his house and Great Grandma could decide whether to take her back to the village tonight or if they should wait until morning.

“Lucky! I’m Evie, by the way.” She stuck out her hand. Lorcan shook it and then put his coat around her shoulders. Evie was utterly enveloped by his long jacket, but at least it would keep her from getting even wetter and ruining the bandage.

“My name’s Lorcan.” He took off his wide brimmed hat and set it on her head. It sunk down until it nearly covered her eyes, but she should still see out from underneath the brim, if only barely.

“What kind of a name is that?” Evie asked.

“Mine,” Lorcan said simply. Then he turned and started heading back to his house.

“Wait! Where are we going?” Evie yelped.

“To my house. You can’t stay out in the rain dressed like that all night. It will be dark soon.”

“Oh, that’s okay then. Lead on.” Evie stuck her sword through the belt loop of his coat and tromped along happily after Lorcan.

 The Moon family dwelling was a squatty, rambling structure that meandered along the slope of Weyrd Mountain. Over the years the family had grown and their home had grown right along with it. Each addition had been painted a different color, completing the haphazard look and feel of the place. Lorcan’s younger cousins still believed that the house had simply grown out of the mountainside when Great Grandpa had settled there and that was why the house grew with the family; it was part of the deal Great Grandpa had made with the witch he married.

The sun was finishing its descent behind Weyrd Mountain when Lorcan made a sarcastically grand sweeping gesture to indicate that they had arrived at his home. “Here it is, in all its majesty!”

“I love it! Look at all the colors! Is that a still? Do you live at a still? You are so lucky!” Evie raced as fast as her wounded side would allow towards the front door, which was painted a garish purple with an enormous silver crescent moon in the center.

Lorcan refrained from rolling his eyes as he followed the excited Evie. He was just reaching for the door knob when out burst Lorcan’s twin cousins Earl and Errol. They both splashed heavily into a nearby puddle and sent mud flying all over Lorcan’s soaking wet pants.

“I am the Walrus Lord! I will devour your soul!” Errol shouted as he chased Earl.

“Well I am the Rabbit Knight of Doom and I can outrun any stupid old Walrus Lord!” Earl countered.

“What’s a Walrus Lord and who is the Rabbit Knight?” Evie asked.

Lorcan shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Earl and Errol are…imaginative to say the least.”

Evie watched them sprint out into the twilight longingly, but Lorcan put a firm hand on her back and ushered her into the crowded, but warm, living room.

“What’s this? A little girl?” Great Uncle Mort asked without looking up from card game he was playing against Lorcan’s grandfather.

Lorcan nodded. “Yes, she was hurt when I found her in the woods.”

“And I’m not little!” Evie insisted.

“What’s this? Another little girl?” Uncle Cal asked as he came around the corner. “Just what we need!”

“Hey!” Cal’s daughters Sophie, Esmeralda, and Gina exclaimed together from where they were playing with dolls by the roaring fireplace.

“She was hurt in the woods and—” Lorcan tried to explain.

“The woods? Who was in the woods at this time of night?” Great Aunt Lorna inquired as she wandered in from the study. “Oh my! Will you look at that? A little girl! What’s this about, then?”

“She was—” Lorcan began.

“What’s all this about a little girl?” Lorcan’s father boomed from the kitchen. He peaked around the corner. “Good Lord! Will you look at that! A little girl!”

“I’m not little!” Evie protested.

Lorcan gave up trying to explain the story to them. He carefully helped Evie out of his coat so they would finally see the blood soaked side of her dress and the bandage he had covered her cut with.

A slew of exclamations rang out at seeing that Evie was injured. Crazy drunks though they were, the Moon family was also quite skilled at healing. It was not uncommon for the villagers to bring their sick or injured to Weyrd Mountain for care. Several people rushed forward and crowded around Evie, each one trying to get a good look at her wound.

“Get away from her, you damn vultures!” A gravely old voice snarled and Lorcan’s relatives parted to let his great grandmother totter forward. “I want to have a look at her.”

“But Grandma…you’re blind!” Uncle Pete protested.

Great Grandma scowled at her grandson, who visibly wilted under her sightless gaze.

“Well, you are,” Mort’s handsome son Julian offered unhelpfully.

Great Grandma spun around nimbly and whacked Julian on the side of his head with her gnarled cane. Julian collapsed to the floor with a yelp.

Several people muttered, “How does she do that?” But they all moved a fair distance away as Great Grandma hobbled forward to inspect Evie.

“Are you the witch that I heard the villagers talking about?” Evie asked, her tiny hand wandering down to the hilt of her sword.

Great Grandmother cackled. “Why…yes I am. Does that frighten you?” She leaned in close so her wrinkled face was only a few inches from Evie’s.

“No. Nothing frightens me,” Evie declared resolutely.

“Hmph. We shall see about that.” Great Grandma cackled once again.

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. How did I do with the bandage?” Lorcan asked gently.

“Oh, marvelous I’m sure.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I just wanted to scare the others away so I could have a word with the young lady. What are you doing here?” She asked pointedly.

Evie kept her stern façade in place. “I was walking in the forest.”

“With a slash from a sword along your side?” Great Grandmother scoffed.

“How do you know that?” Evie asked, narrowing her eyes skeptically.

“Never mind how I know. I know. Now answer the question.”

“You’d better do as she says. There’s no avoiding her when she gets like this,” Lorcan advised.

Evie considered this for a moment. “Well…I almost got stabbed…and then I went for a walk in the forest.”

Great Grandma groaned. “A girl ought to be a better liar. Especially a girl as mischievous as you.”

“I usually am! I don’t know why I can’t think of anything to make up!” At last Evie started to look a bit fearful, if only a little.

“Great Grandma! Are you using your magic on our guest?” Lorcan eyed his oldest relative.

“Bah! No! Well, maybe. Oh, shut up, Lorcan! I’m old, I’ll do as I please,” Great Grandma growled.

“She used magic on me?” Evie glanced down at herself as though to make sure she hadn’t been turned into a toad while she wasn’t looking.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lorcan told her. “Come on, you need to rest. I’ll get you settled into the room I share with my sister Mandy. I can brave a night in the boys’ room so you can have some peace and quiet.” Lorcan got the still nervous Evie turned away from Great Grandma and started down the hallway.

“She really cast a spell on me?” Evie asked as Lorcan ushered her towards his room.

“Probably. She’s pretty sneaky about it so it’s hard to be sure. A lot of the time she just gets lazy now and relies on the fact that she’s a scary old witch to startle people into thinking she’s done magic. You’d be surprised what a good stern glare can get out of most people.” Lorcan opened the door to his bedroom and gestured for Evie to enter.

Lorcan and Mandy’s bedroom was small, but it had a window on the scenic side of the house and it was just the two of them in there. Mandy had painted dragons all over the four walls and the ceiling, Lorcan was nearly too tall for his bed, and that about covered the highlights of their room.

“Whoa!” Evie gasped when she saw the paintings. “Did you do these?”

Mandy let out a single sharp bark of laughter. She was sitting on her bed, reading a book about sea monsters. “Lorcan can barely paint a stick figure. These are my dragons. Would you like me to tell you about them?”

Evie nodded enthusiastically.

“Well that black one is Herrandron. People think he’s evil because of his coloring, but actually he helps protect people from the real monsters. The red one next to him is his mate, Rezzelthra. She’s probably the smartest of my dragons. She…” Mandy continued talking about her beloved paintings to an enraptured Evie while Lorcan snuck out. He was only two years older than Mandy and had heard every one of her dragons’ life stories many times over.

Although Mandy tended to get overly intense about her art, she was a cakewalk compared to what Lorcan was about to step into. The room that Earl and Errol shared with Lorcan’s younger brothers Fester and Thomas was a warzone on a good day. He took a deep breath and entered.

Thomas hooted like an owl as Lorcan stepped inside and several things happened very fast. Festus shoved something out the window, Errol stepped to the side to block Lorcan’s view of said window, and someone—presumably Earl—made a considerable amount of noise rustling around in the bushes just outside their room.

“Whatever it is, let it go, Earl,” Lorcan said wearily.

“Earl’s not here,” Errol responded quickly. “He’s hasn’t come back in yet. Only me. I came through the window because it’s quicker. That’s why the window’s open. I went through it.”

Lorcan shook his head. “You aren’t fooling anyone. Earl! Let go of whatever creature you’ve caught and climb back in here.”

“How does he always know?” Earl groaned. A baby deer leapt up from the bushes and bounded away, clearly terrified. Earl stood up, brushed some of the mud from his overalls, and climbed through the window just as Lorcan had asked.

“What did you want with a fawn in the house anyway? Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know. Just settle down and try to contain yourselves for once tonight.” Lorcan grabbed a blanket and pillow from the closet and threw them down on the floor. The boys tended to destroy their bedding—and everything else—on a fairly regular basis so extras were always close at hand.

“Oh man! You’re sleeping here tonight? What did we do this time? I swear, the fire wasn’t us this time!” Errol protested.

“What fire? Dammit, never mind. You aren’t in trouble. I found a girl in the woods who was hurt and she’s sleeping in my room so Mandy can look after her.” Lorcan finished laying out his makeshift bed on the floor. It would be uncomfortable, but a lot less filthy than sleeping in one of the boys’ beds.

“A girl? I bet she’s pretty!” Thomas gushed.

Earl and Errol mimed gagging. “You’re six, Thomas! What do you care if she’s pretty or not?” Earl asked.

“I like pretty girls! They’re so…pretty!” Thomas grinned.

Festus rolled his eyes. He was ten and like his twin cousins, thought girls were an incredible waste of space. “You are so dumb, Thomas! I don’t know why mom and dad make you sleep in our room, you ruin everything with your girl talk!”

Lorcan chuckled to himself. He was old enough to wish that when village girls came along with their fathers to buy whiskey that they were ogling him instead of Julian. But Lorcan was a gangly and plain looking fifteen year old and Julian was twenty-five, handsome, and incredibly charming. Every time Julian came back from attending a festival in town he had fresh stories of beautiful woman chasing after him. Lorcan had always assumed Julian was lying until he attended a festival with him last year and had seen it for himself. Lorcan had not enjoyed the crowds, the noise, or the dancing and he had definitely not liked being ignored by all the girls as they pined for Julian.

But for now Festus, Earl, and Errol were blissfully ignorant of such things. Lorcan did feel bad for his youngest brother Thomas, though. Six years old and already a hopeless romantic. Life was going to be tough for that little guy.

For some reason that Lorcan had not noticed while his thoughts wandered, Errol punched Festus in the nose. Festus retaliated with a headbutt and Earl threw himself into the fray, likely just for fun. Muttering to himself about what a long night it was going to be, Lorcan climbed out of his makeshift bed and pried the three of them apart.

“See? Pretty girls never do that because they aren’t stupid like you!” Thomas declared as he stuck his tongue out at his cousins and Festus.

“That’s it, I’m putting him out of my misery!” Festus shouted. Earl and Errol agreed with wordless snarls as the three of them tried to get around Lorcan’s octopus-like arms to murder poor little Thomas.

This was the only good thing about his gangliness that Lorcan had found. He was able to hold off all three of Thomas’ would-be killers with his extra-long limbs until they got bored and started fighting each other again.

Sighing, Lorcan blew out the candle and let them fight. It was either that or stay up all night trying to wrangle them into bed. He had done that before and found the sun rising before the three of them gave up fighting one another. Lorcan closed his eyes and hoped he wouldn’t dream.

Lorcan stood in a fancy room with a large window overlooking the village square. He had never seen the square from above before, it was quite beautiful with its patterned stone tiles and massive rose bushes. From this height the roses seemed heavenly despite the fact that Lorcan’s only real memory of them was being picked up and thrown into a particularly thorny bush by some of Julian’s drunken friends.

There was a handsome man with broad shoulders, yet grey at his temples in the room that Lorcan did not notice until the door opened and Evie entered. She was wearing the same purple dress that Lorcan had seen her in when they met in the forest, but her marvelous red-gold hair was done up in intricate curls on top of her head rather than flowing wildly down her back. She had her tiny sword on her hip and she approached the older man purposefully.

“Uncle Arcon, you can’t do what you told father you were planning on doing. It’s not right!” Evie shouted angrily.

The man, Lorcan assumed it was Evie’s Uncle Arcon, smiled condescendingly. “Is that so, child? And what is a little girl like you going to do to stop me?”

Evie fumed. “I’m not a little girl! I’m nine and I know how to defend myself!”

Uncle Arcon laughed at her. He turned his back and stared out the large window with its view of the square. “Silly little girl. So much like your mother. Fierce, idealistic, and yet ultimately ineffective. Your ridiculous morals will always keep you from accomplishing your goals, Evangeline. You ought to learn to be more like your sister Luciana.”

“Actually, Uncle, I already have.” Evie drew her girl-sized sword and stabbed it upwards into her uncle’s back. Lorcan observed the angle and saw that Evie’s thrust carefully came up underneath the ribs, but still reached Uncle Arcon’s heart.

Evie’s uncle bellowed with rage and spun, drawing his own sword and slashing wildly at Evie. The blow would have been fatal if Evie had not managed to dodge to the side and only take a glancing cut. Then Uncle Arcon collapsed, the last of his lifeblood draining out of him. Evie slid her sword back into its scabbard without cleaning it off and sprinted from the room.

The nightmare faded and as Lorcan woke he could hear Evie screaming down the hall. He rose from his pile of blankets on the floor, spared one last glare for Festus and Earl who were punching each other once more, and headed for the room he usually shared with Mandy.

Evie was sitting upright in Lorcan’s bed, her eyes wide and her breathing coming in quick gasps.

“What’s the matter?” Mandy asked groggily from her bed.

“She just had a nightmare, go back to sleep,” Lorcan told her.

“M’kay.” Mandy rolled back over and began snoring.

Lorcan crossed the room and sat on his bed next to Evie. They sat in silence until Evie’s breathing began to approach normal.

“How did you know I had a nightmare?” Evie whispered.

Lorcan shrugged. “Sometimes I know things. Part of having witches in the family, I guess.”

Evie nodded as though that were a perfectly reasonable explanation. “Lorcan, I did something bad. Really bad.”

Lorcan nodded. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what Evie had done. His dreams were like that sometimes.

“I…I think people are going to come looking for me. Bad people. I don’t want to hurt your amazing family, but…” Evie trailed off.

“But you need our help to hide from these bad people.” Lorcan finished for her.

Evie nodded glumly.

“Well don’t worry about that. The Moon Family has always protected the weirdos and loonies that seek refuge among us. Heck, that’s how my parents met! Wyrd Mountain is our domain and no one can take anyone away from us if we don’t want them to,” Lorcan assured her.

Evie smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

“Is there anyone we can contact for you down in the village? Anyone you can trust who might be able to help you?” Lorcan asked.

“My sister,” Evie answered immediately. “But I don’t know how you could reach her without anyone else knowing you were helping me.”

Lorcan nodded. “Tomorrow I’ll see what I can do. Between me, my dad, and Great Grandma, we’ll think of something. For now, sleep tight.”

Lorcan had gotten hardly any sleep the rest of the night so he rose early and began his chores while everyone else still slept. In addition to the still the Moon family had a small farm to help keep their ever-growing family fed. Lorcan fed the chickens, collected their eggs, and was weeding the field when he spotted a column of armed men on horseback riding up the trail that led to Wyrd Mountain Still.

Quickly, Lorcan snatched a small pebble and threw it as hard as he could in the direction of the house. He hoped it had reached its intended target, the wall of his father’s bedroom. Lorcan then leaned on his rake and hoped none of the riders had seen him attempt to alert the rest of his family to their arrival. He waited patiently while they rode closer. The forest was dense on the mountain, but the still had been built such that it was difficult to sneak up on. Great Grandpa had been the paranoid sort.

Lorcan waved at the men in their shiny armor as they arrayed themselves in a line in front of him and did his best to appear unconcerned. He had never seen so many soldiers in all his life. The village had a few tough young men that donned ill-fitting armor to be an honor guard when local dignitaries came to visit, but that was about the extent of the armament that existed in these parts. Wyrd Mountain’s newest visitors however, had full suits of armor including helmets that covered their faces, swords, spears, bows, and who knew what else tucked away in the cavernous saddlebags their very impressive steeds bore.

One of the soldiers, shorter and slimmer than the rest, held out a piece of paper for Lorcan to see. “Have you seen this girl?” A woman’s voice asked. Though she was clearly a woman, her voice was hard and icy cold.

The paper had what was obviously a drawing of Evie on it. “No,” Lorcan said immediately. “We don’t sell our booze to kids that young. Sorry.”

The soldier holding the drawing pulled off her helmet and her pale green eyes bore into Lorcan intently. “You’re certain?” Her red-gold hair was pulled up into a severe bun, but it was unmistakably the same fantastic hue as Evie’s. She looked to be about Lorcan’s age based on her size, but the coldness in her eyes and the determined set of her jaw made Lorcan wonder if she was older.

“Yes,” Lorcan replied, though he felt sick doing it. Was this Evie’s sister? The resemblance was uncanny, but he couldn’t be certain that this was her sister.

“Very well.” She sighed and nudged her horse forward. She held out the drawing to Lorcan. “Please keep this and seek me out in the village below if you see her. I am staying at the Old Fisherman Inn. My sister is likely injured and alone, so any assistance you can provide will be handsomely rewarded. Good day, citizen.”

What does Lorcan do?

1)      Try to quietly tell Evie’s sister whereEvie is right now.

2)      Wait and seek Evie’s sister out at her inn tonight and try to talk to her privately.