Princess Ruby of Tamworthia

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  Giselle was the first to arrive at her designated destination and began the plan laid out by the Wyverns. She found Joseph quickly and relayed her instructions. Joseph began organizing quickly. He enlisted the fastest diggers, Badgers from Belver's guard. "I want two concentric circles, dug around the Gateway to the underworld. The inner circle needs to be deep but the outer circle needs to be twice as deep." The Badger's did not question the orders; they'd seen the success of the previous night. This Human knew how to plan a fight. The Badgers started to dig, assisted by an army of Voles, cleverly deployed to dispose of the displaced earth.

  Joseph left the team of diggers to their task and approached the Wood Sprites who were itching to help. "You," he said, pointing at the startled creatures. "Work with the trees, I need you to collect tar and sap, to light the fires. Bring it to me quickly; we need a lot to pour into these trenches." They knew exactly what he wanted and scurried away to get organized.

  Joseph turned his attention to Giselle, perched high above him. "Giselle, I will need fuel for the fire; branches, shrubs, ferns, anything flammable, to throw into the trenches and keep the fires going."

  Giselle nodded her head in acknowledgement and disappeared into the dense forest. The digging continued throughout the day as the shadows grew longer and the Sun ambled across the sky. The long afternoon would soon draw to a close and Joseph felt pressured to complete his task. He assumed the fires were to capture and burn the beasts, as they streamed from the Gateway. He was wrong, and he would soon find out why. As the afternoon slipped away, Giselle appeared from the trees. Behind her was a disturbance; the rustling of leaves, the pounding of hoofed feet, and the dragging of branches could be heard. Badgers, Deer, Stoats, Ferrets, and an assortment of creatures, pulled fallen branches to the entrance of the Gateway. Each animal joyfully tossed the fuel into the trenches, so expertly excavated. It wasn't long before each trench was brimming with branches, ferns and wood.

  "Where are the Wood Sprites?" muttered Joseph, in a nervous tone. His question was immediately answered. A strong Bull had been enlisted to help. It willingly pulled a sled, made from branches and ferns. The large leaves were crafted into pots, containing the highly flammable mixture of tar and tree sap. Wood Sprites ran in front of the mighty Bull, guiding it through the brush and into the clearing.

  Joseph's relief was enormous. "Good job, all of you. We'll win this fight tonight!" He didn't know why he shouted the words of encouragement, but it just felt right. The team had creatively worked together. Together, they'd delivered, even if speaking to a collection of animals did feel a bit weird. The Wood Sprites took wooden ladles and scooped the gooey liquid into the trenches, completing their task. The heat of the Sun had faded and the timing could not have been better. The large Bull looked tired with white foam covering his swollen lips. He collapsed with his front legs folded and his head bowed from exhaustion.

  Giselle startled the Bull, thinking he was under attack when he was at his most vulnerable. Raising his head he could see where she'd placed a large woven basket, lined with leafs, containing cool stream water. He snorted in appreciation before curling his parched tongue into the refreshingly cool water.

  Joseph looked at the two rings surrounding the Gateway; he was pleased as he folded his arms. He turned to Giselle, perched next to him, "I hope the others are just as successful."

  "Well .... we were!" chimed a familiar voice from behind him. Joseph was startled but spun quickly to see Acron and Ranger Oakmoss." Ranger was followed by what seemed like an army of Wood Sprites. Ranger had sent Acron ahead to organize his army. When Ranger arrived at the abandoned Mill he was met by hundreds of dedicated helpers. On the edge of the forest, a hermit used to make bread. He built a small mill where he would grind his flour. The hermit lived peacefully in the forest for many years. The creatures knew of his existence and in the winter, he would feed the animals, with his stale bread. As he grew older, he could not survive on his own, and he moved away. The forest reclaimed the mill and the building remained unused.

  Ranger and Acron set about their task. They'd been entrusted with a precious bone. It belonged to the Father of the three Wyverns. The bone was made of the purest of material. There was one problem. Wyvern bones are very hard and very dense. It had taken the group all afternoon to grind the bone into a fine powder. The powder had been separated into small pouches. Each pouch was attached to a Fairies belt. The Whispering Trees had been instructed and the Fairies had been dispatched to the far edges of the forest. The Fairies surrounded the forest; it's entire perimeter. They perched, stood, leaned and hovered, waiting for the signal.

  Giselle flapped her large wings, demanding attention. "Acron and Ranger, you've done well, but you must have patience, for we're not ready yet. We have to wait for Belver; he has an important delivery."

  You could feel the tension in the night's air. The trap was set and each knew a piece of the overall plan. Where was Belver? Where was Ruby? Perhaps they'd failed in their assignments and needed help? The group was restless as they described their tasks and tried to piece together the plan. The animals grew worried and some skirmishes broke out between traditional adversaries. These were quickly diffused, as they waited for news. The group was heading into the last remnants of early evening, the high Moon approached. This would excite the animals. Some would fear the battle approaching, some would look forward to fighting the beasts. Mother's kept a close watch on their little ones, making sure they didn't stray far.

  A spitting noise could be heard approaching and the familiar gruff voice of Belver. "I can't seem to get the taste of the sea out of my mouth." He spat again, sneezing and spitting loudly. Everyone laughed; they were relived to see their old friend. "Joseph, I'll need your help with this." Joseph stepped forward wondering what his assignment would be. "Take this foul tasting box to the edge of the Gateway. It contains a seaweed plant called Gorsporth. Listen to me carefully as our plan relies on you doing this right. You only get one shot at this."

  Belver gave Joseph the instructions under the watchful eye of the Great White Owl. Joseph took the box in one hand, while holding a lit torch in the other. He carefully jumped across each trench encircling the Gateway. He gingerly opened the box as the salty seawater assaulted his nostrils with a pungent strike. He reached in and carefully retrieved the green striped weed. Hanging from below the plant, were white roots that looked like worms; they wriggled madly. Joseph knelt and dug a hole in the dirt, next to the Gateway, with his strong hand. He placed the wriggling roots into the small hole he'd just made. Immediately the roots wriggled into the earth and latched onto their new home. The Moon was still rising and the air was cool. The plant's ferocious roots snaked their way underground, tapping into a water source.

  It was the perfect condition for Gorsporth; cool and damp. The plant jumped into life with the limbs growing rapidly like a vine. Leaves sprouted uncontrollably from nowhere. This plant was taking over the space rapidly. Joseph was surprised by the speed of its growth but reacted quickly. He started to push the growth into the Gateway of the Underworld. The plant streamed into the hole and expanded to block it with its ravenous growth. Joseph watched in amazement.

  Giselle soared above his head screaming at Joseph. She swooped down as he struggled to push more of the growth into the densely packed hole. "Light the fire, now!"