Forest Guardians Chronicles: A Matter of Humanity by Beth Roose (smart ebook reader TXT) 📗

clock was not in Bev’s favor. That time was approaching much quicker than she realized.

Princess Celia put a dazzling smile on her face as she reached for the doorknob. “I will come by around seven and let you know what I have tracked down. Sweet dreams!” Bev bid her friend goodbye and turned out all the lights in the kitchen and living room, shuffled her exhausted feet into the bedroom, and plopped ungracefully onto her bed, hitting the pillow and falling into a deep slumber.

Bev woke in a sweat remembering a strange and unsettling dream. She dreamt of the Forest Queen chasing Bitty and Ja’al down the riverbed and onto Everett Covered Bridge. She witnessed Bitty and Freda screaming and being attacked by three of the minion drones. She felt the trees bending and cracking around her while a spiral wind tunnel formed that turned the sky an eerie and gloomy gray. Then, she felt a weird vibration sensation through her head. She not only heard Cleg’s infrasound “whoops!,” but she felt them pulsate in and through her head. She sat up screaming, drenched in sweat from the scene she had just witnessed. Heavy breaths shook her shoulders and chest up and down in a panicked motion. Bev rubbed her temples. “It was just a dream. Just another nightmare. It is alright,” she muttered to herself. Bev still had that infrasound pulsating pain rushing through her head. She wondered if this was a premonition to what was going to happen, like a vision, warning her of the upcoming dangers. Bev laid back down and gazed over at the clock. I was only 3am. At least she had a few more hours for shuteye, she tried reasoning with herself. Although, after that dream, she highly doubted she would get a lick of sleep over the next three hours. The rest of the night she tossed and turned, from side to side, from left to right, at some points she even found her head by her footboard and her feet by her headboard. Sleep was not an option that was being offered. Around five, she gave up on the idea of sleep and walked to the kitchen to make breakfast. Shuffling to the kitchen with groggy eyes and a large yawn, Bev pulled out the equipment she needed to make some eggs and toast. While whisking the eggs together and buttering the crispy slices of bread, the nightmare played over and over in her head, leaving her with an uncertain and uncomfortable feeling in her gut. Losing her appetite completely at the thought of Betty and Freda screaming for their lives, Bev plopped her toast on a plate and decided to say a prayer. One of thanks for her food, her shelter, her health. Then Bev did something she always does; she prayed for her friends. She asked for protection for the forest guardians, Princess Celia, Morgan, and her Dad. Feeling better after her prayer, she forced her breakfast down before the bad memories reinvaded her headspace. Although she downed her breakfast, she just could not shake the dream. It played over and over, never ending, always on repeat, like a bad record she could not get to stop.

Bev was dressed and ready for work before the clock even dreamed of hitting 6am. She kept finding herself daydreaming out the window, waiting for that brilliant orange light to appear. Princess Celia was due to arrive at any moment and she was never late, but then again, royalty is always punctual. Bev peaked over at the clock. Seven on the dot. Flash. She whipped her back to the window and there was the brilliant burst of light that reflected beautifully off of the cotton candy colored sunrise. Princess Celia always knew how to arrive in style. Bev dashed to the door and flung it open, greeting the princess with a refreshed sense of energy, ready to take on the day.

“Bev,” the princess beamed.  “Good morning! I hope you slept well, although by the looks of your undereyes, I would say that sleep was not an activity you partook in last night.” Bev hmmphed, “Morning, Princess Celia. Come in, please. I have been expecting you!” Bev tried to sound chipper, but exhaustion made itself present in her tone.

“Thank you, Bev,” the Princess responded warmly.

“Please, come sit down and make yourself at home, Princess.” Both women pulled out their metal kitchen chairs they inhabited not too long ago and sat down, scootching themselves towards the table.

“Well,” Princess Celia began. “I have some news. I was able to gather some information on the topic we discussed last night.” The princess quickly filled Bev in on the details she found out about the complex situation at hand. “So, I have come to a conclusion.” The princess, pointing her index finger in the sky, began to reveal the vital information that the pair needed in order to solve the problem. “I believe the cane is in Montana with the old law-man’s great great grandson. Mr. Garman should be the one to visit his home and request a piece of the meteorite.” The princess handed Bev a soft, small, and torn piece of paper with blue cursive writing. “Here is the address. His name is Myles Masterson.” The princess paused. “As soon as you have more information on the plan, have one of the Pukwudgie signal me with the silver light arrow and I will come.” Celia lowered her head and looked cautiously from side to side and, in a whisper, revealed her next strand of information. “Now, the Hornet Queen has spies everywhere, so I would not speak to anyone else about this, understood?”

Bev nodded hastily in agreement with her friend. “Alright, Princess. I will keep this on a need-to-know basis,” and in a burst of blinding orange light, the Princess was gone, leaving Bev to mull over her thoughts and deliver a piece of vital information to the mission they were all finally a part of.

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