“Where have you been? How did you find us?” asked the prince in quick succession before looking past him toward the opening of the cave. “Where are the others?”

  “Yes, you fantastic witch!” added Hoxley, going so far as to lift both of them up in her arms so that their feet couldn’t touch the ground. “Tell us of the others and how you found us!” The pair looked like they were going to be crushed by her elation until she finally relented and put them down again.

  “I tell you that the others are as sound as can be expected.” Ignatius told them as he looked up to the cyclops. “But I would like to be introduced to your gracious host who has looked to make you feel at home and cooked each of you a meal.”

  “Yes, how forgetful of me.” Said Hoxley stepping aside to guide him closer to the tall grey-skinned beast. “Ignatius, this is the Great Bohga. Our gracious host!” Ignatius removed his pointed hat and bowed deeply to him.

  “Great Bohga, you have my utmost thanks for offering food, shelter and companionship to these two. How can I, a humble witch, show you my thanks for this great gesture?”

  “You can sit at my table and eat a bowl of this spiced fish your friends seem to enjoy so much. Do this in friendship with me and your debt is paid, ho ho.”

  “I agree to your terms, Great Bohga.” said the witch standing straight. And with that, the cyclops smiled his approval before rising from his place to collect another steaming bowl. Once everyone was seated again, Ignatius went on to tell all three of them what had come to pass since their separation until the moment he’d wandered in to investigate the cyclops cave. “And that’s when I heard Hoxley’s voice.” He finished.

  “A magnificent story!” Bohga clapped his large hands together and stomped his feet. “Such adventure!”

  “Siouxsie is the Lightning Witch?” asked the prince.

  “Has become the Lightning Witch.” Ignatius corrected him. “She is still the same Siouxsie we have grown to know but she has been bestowed great power. She, Robert and I witnessed the older one just before she vanished in a blast of lightning enveloped her entire home. I believe she was waiting for our arrival before she expired.” Hoxley looked dumbfounded at the breadth of his words.

  “I’ve never heard of such things. And you say that Morell is expected to recover?” she asked.

  “It’s true.” He nodded. “The poison was strong, but we believe he will recover to collect mushrooms to his hearts content.”

  “Or speak with plant monsters.” Noted the prince.

  “If it were not Morell, I would not believe such marvelousness.” She nodded in thought. “I was in his study when we first met and saw the dedication to his passion for mushrooms. His mastery of the spore turned out to save his life and that of the others as well as making friends in the strangest of places. And you say that Oldvale has been restored?”

  “Not Oldvale,” smiled Ignatius “But Spellvale, the way it was before the Dark Harvest.”

  “Then our path across the ages is confirmed.” Hoxley said. “Between what you say and what Bohga has told us. We are five hundred years in the past from where we were before. And if the dark harvest has yet to happen then perhaps there is an opportunity to warn the witches before such events can unfold that would lead to the dark harvest.” Ignatius made a face of silent pain. “Ignatius?” she asked in response. “Why do you make such a face?”

  “Because I believe something terrible has already come to pass.”

  “What do you mean?” asked the prince. Ignatius would go on to describe the entire scene that took place when he and his siblings were expelled from the portal and how their powers ran wild to torch and entire grain field and more.

  “Ignatius, that’s monstrous!” exclaimed Hoxley, lowering her spoon. “That will only make matters worse!”

  “I fear things have already been set into motion that cannot be stopped.” He replied with a sour expression. “It is imperative that I collect you and the prince to return to Spellvale as soon as possible so that we collectively may use the power of this amulet to return to our own time.”

  “What of the witches and the dark harvest?” she asked. “If the event hasn’t come to pass then there still may be time to prevent it! When does it take place?”

  “We know not the year, but our history speaks of the slaughter taking place on the night of a great celebration after all the witches had drunk themselves silly. The only festival that happens around this time of year is the pumpkin festival when the crops are harvested.”

  “How long do we have?” asked the prince.

  “A matter of days.” Ignatius replied. “Summer is breathing its last and crops are about to be collected. We must act quickly.”

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  “But you said you don’t know what year it happened in or if we’re in that year.” Offered the prince in between bites of tasty fish.

  “This is true, your highness.” Agreed Ignatius. “However, with the damage that’s been caused during our arrival, I cannot imagine that if the tables were turned that the witches would take long to retaliate after such a disaster?”

  “Could it not be explained to the humans that it was a mistake?” asked Bohga.

  “I cannot imagine that they would be reasonable for such an act, accident or otherwise. I believe they would expect blood for blood as just compensation.”

  “Then we cannot linger in our comfort.” exclaimed Bohga. “Your highness? Hoxley of the plains? The time has come for you to leave my company and continue your journey. It pains me to say such things as I have enjoyed your presence so much more than you realize, Ho ho! Come! There’s not much time. We must pack provisions for in the morning you must start your return to Spellvale!” The cyclops worked himself into a dither to fetch fresh water from the river for their canteens and water skins. He even began to bake a fresh batch of pumpkin bread for them to enjoy which smelled delicious. When everything was in place later that night, the prince quickly fell asleep underneath his blanket. Bohga himself stretched his arms high in the air and gave a great yawn. “It’s time for a good sound sleep.” He said. “Come Hoxley.” He beckoned. “Walk me to my bed.” She left Ignatius by the cave entrance to follow the beast deep into his lair where his bed of tree branches and grass awaited. The wood and leaves crunched and rustled as he lay his massive girth upon them. “Ahhhh yes. There is nothing more comfortable than one’s own bed.” he said. Hoxley carried a small torch and hung it in its place upon the wall. With the some orange glow of the fire to light their faces Hoxley sat next to the cyclops as his one big eye began to droop from fatigue.

  “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for us.” Said Hoxley. “Your graciousness and grace in the face of everything we’ve brought to your door is truly like no other.”

  “Life has no plans until you make them, sweet faun.”

  “But it is better to be the wind than the feather?” she finished using his own words.

  “Hoo hoo, I suppose that is true. But it is fun to be the feather as well.”

  “Bohga, there is something I must tell you. Something that could be the difference between life or death.”

  “Oh?” asked the cyclops, the eye opening wider. “That doesn’t sound like a small matter at all.”

  “It isn’t and I must ask that you heed every word as the event I will speak of will surely come to pass for you in your future as it has happened for me in my past.”

  “Then by all means, tell me what you know.” Hoxley would go on to tell Bohga every detail of the events regarding how Lord Baltus men had come for them at Bohga’s home and the means of their escape.

  “In the end, we reached the end of the channels below the volcano, but for the life of my I cannot say whether you survived the siege.”

  “This is all so troublesome.” Grunted the cyclops. “But interesting indeed. I will heed your words, sweet faun.”

  “I thought you might be upset with me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not telling you what I know. For to not tell you might bring about your end.”

  “Then your words must be the truth and I must put my hands to work to make preparations for the day when it comes that Hoxley and her new friends come to my cave. Although I believe I have quite some time ahead of me for such things.”

  “Five hundred years?” she asked. “Yes, I believe you do.”

  “Two thousand seasons.” said Bohga, the eye starting to droop again. “Two thousand seasons without a Hoxley or prince to tell of my days since this visit. But in the days of those five hundred years I must make good use of them so that they have a splendid time when they finally come to call with witchly and mushroom friends with songs to share…” the eye closed a little more and the muscles beneath the thick grey skin started to relax. It only took a second, but quickly the beast was asleep and snoring. Hoxley couldn’t help herself and laid a hand upon the lid of its one great slumbering eye before gibing it a light kiss. She quietly rose and collected the torch before placing it on the wall in the main room. Prince Damron had already curled himself into a ball along the wall of the kitchen fire and nodded off. And in the still silence of the cave Hoxley found Ignatius standing just outside watching the starry sky. When he heard her hoof steps approaching he hurried to embrace her.