The town of Flatrend was an average little village, much like any other in the North Valley. It had one wide road going straight through it, one heading toward the capital and the other toward The Bridge, and little side roads that lead to houses and small shops. It was settled in a wide open plain, where the tops of trees were just visible in the distance at Wormwood farm. There was little shade on the road as Ellie and Bertha plodded into town, both sweating profusely. Luckily for Ellie, there were only three stops on this trip. The trouble was, they were far apart.

The first stop was the market, where the general public purchased their eggs. This was the easiest shop to get to, as it was built when the town was founded and was butted right up against the road. All Ellie had to do was knock on the door and ask the clerk boy to unpack their order. The second stop, the baker’s, was for more tedious. The Baker was an elderly lady who was somehow too feeble to safely carry a crate of eggs, but fit enough to do all that baking. And worst of all, the bakery was built after the main road and buildings, and was tucked into a side street, so Ellie had to lug the heavy crate to the end of the alley without breaking any of the eggs. This was the part she always dreaded the most.

However, the final stop, in her opinion, made it all worthwhile. The final shop was Nancy’s Herbs and Home Remedies, located at the other end of town. It was an odd little shop that had been around as long as Ellie could remember, but her parents told her that it suddenly cropped up one night when they were in their teens. Her parents, as well as most of the other adults in Flatrend, disliked the little shop and its enigmatic owner. However, Ellie, like most of the children in town, found the mysteries of the shop fascinating.

The shop was small. At least, it seemed that way with how cramped it was. It was a square room with a long, low counter at the back that was littered with mortars and pestles, beakers and stirring spoons. Every wall was crammed to the ceiling with shelves holding bottles and baskets of different shapes and sizes that were filled with odd plants, herbs, and strange colored liquids of varying viscosity. Despite the fact that the shelves were full, the shop simply had too many items, and the larger merchandise had to be placed on small tables that were scattered about the floor. These tables were piled high with strange flowers, bags of dirt from different parts of the world, books with drawings of plants and their uses, and other such things. But even the floor wasn’t enough to hold everything. All throughout the shop, little glass bottles with big holes in them dangled from the ceiling, each housing a tiny odd plant and making the path to the counter quite treacherous for customers.

Ellie was always glad to visit Nancy’s shop. Not only was it interesting, but it always ordered a few eggs. It was easier to carry this order than the baker’s, that was for sure. However, Ellie’s favorite part about the shop was Nancy herself.

Nancy was the strangest woman anyone in Flatrend had ever laid eyes on, although she wasn’t very pretty to look at. She was appallingly tall; almost six foot, and was thin as a sapling. Her pale skin stretched over her bones with almost nothing in between them, giving her a skeletal look. She had limp brown hair that was a little too thin, and her lips were so narrow they looked like a gouge in her face. But despite her lack of beauty, there was no doubt that there was kindness in her huge, sunken brown eyes. As Ellie entered the shop, Nancy stopped tending to a flower and flitted over to her, her long dress hiding her steps and giving her the appearance of a banshee floating weightlessly over the floorboards.

She stopped to tower over Ellie, “Oh good! You’re just in time. I was just about to need those.” Her voice was a bit like leaves crackling in a gust.

She took the two dozen eggs from Ellie and rushed behind the counter, disappearing behind the heavy curtains that covered the back room. Ellie had never been to the back room and would love to know what went on in there. But some weeks ago, when she asked for a tour, Nancy had smiled and said “Trade secrets, I’m afraid. And it’s where I keep some more dangerous items. It wouldn’t do to have you get sick from being too close to toxins, would it?” And that was the end of that matter.

Now Nancy came gliding back through the curtains, her leather coin purse in hand. She dug out the coins with her bony fingers and dropped her payment in Ellie’s palm. “There we go. You’re earlier than usual today Ellie. Is Bertha feeling chipper today?”

Ellie nodded, “I guess she must be. She hardly fought me at all.” Ellie had to tilt her head up at a ninety-degree angle to look Nancy in the eye. Most everyone did.

“Do you have any plans for this afternoon?”

“No, I didn’t expect to be free this early.” Ellie glanced out the window, spotting Bertha try to snatch an apple from a passerby.

“Then perhaps you’d be willing to help me out?” Nancy clasped her hands together in a plea-full gesture.

“What do you mean?”

“One moment.” Nancy went over to a table in the corner of the room and brought back a small pot with mushrooms growing out of it. “This is a special mushroom. I dry them out and grind them up for pastes that help with bruises. Trouble is, they grow so slowly and I need them often, so I can’t rely on just one to grow everything I need. They grow around here, so I’d pay you quite a bit if you could save me the trouble of going out and digging them up myself.”

Ellie stared at the broad and waxy, pale pink cap of the mushroom, “You want me to go mushroom hunting? I thought mushrooms usually cropped up in fall?”

“They do,” nodded Nancy, “but these like the summer heat. I’ll tell you what; if you can find some for me, I’ll pay you fifty shillings a cap-”

“FIFTY EACH?!”

“-and you can do with that money what you like, ‘cause you’ll have earned it. Just make sure you get home by dark or your mother will storm in here and bite my head off.”

This seemed like a wonderful deal to Ellie. She now had something to do until dinner time, and fifty shillings alone was four times the amount her mother would give her for fun in a month. “It’s a deal!”

Nancy chuckled, “Good. Now, you’ll probably find them near tree bases. You might also find ones that look similar, but remember; light pink, broad cap, thin stalk. Also, don’t just pluck them up, dig down a bit to get a chunk of the roots. I’d like to plant these, and plucking does no good. Can you remember that?”

Ellie nodded excitedly, “Yes, pink big and skinny, I’ve got it. Oh, these aren’t poisonous, are they?”

“No, these are ok to touch. Just don’t touch any other mushrooms you might find.”

“Alright then, I’ll go find a hundred of them!” Ellie ran out the door, leaving the tall woman in the shop. Ellie left Bertha by the shop, assuming she’d come back to get her before dinner.

And so she zipped right into the field that started on the other side of the road, hoping that some of her prizes would be under the few trees that sprung up from it. She would later find that there were none in the field, and so she would then try in the dense forest that ringed the field and Flatrend.

Ellie wasn’t worried about going into the forest alone. All the bears and wolves in these parts had long since left for less populated places in the forest, so it was quite safe. Even the adults of Flatrend weren’t worried about letting their children play there when the weather was fair, as it was today. Yes, it was a perfectly safe place, and Ellie spent her day looking for mushrooms under rocks and by small creeks.

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It was a lovely evening on the small farm of Barclay. Now Barclay farm was very different from Wormwood farm. The Barclay’s were an elderly couple with only the energy to care for a small vegetable garden that they fed themselves with. It had once been a very big and busy farm, but without any children to inherit it, the Barclay’s knew it would fall into ruin when they passed.

The huge field that used to be covered with crops was now covered in rocks and debris that blew in during storms. Harold Barclay and their last living ox, Hoss, were no longer fit enough to clear it. The stars were shining brightly and the full moon was out tonight. Owls hooted in the distant trees of the forest and crickets chirped madly in the summer heat.

Hagis, the farm’s watchdog, was anxious. He was always anxious, for some reason. The old dog would set off yapping and howling if the breeze tickled his whiskers too hard, so the Barclay’s would tie him up outside and ignore his paranoid calls.

But tonight, Haggis was quite still. A buzzing had started. It was faint, and he stood at attention, clearly not knowing which direction he should be barking at. There was also the faint smell of thunder, as though a rainstorm was just over the treetops. The buzzing got louder.

Now you could tell that it was happening at the other end of the farm, near the edge of the woods and the unused fields. The buzzing turned into a loud humming.

Hagis started to bark now. He yelped and howled louder than he ever had in his life, but Harold and Marie Barclay slept on, far too used to Haggis’ high pitched calls for this to wake them.

There was a sudden light. It appeared with a rip, like a knife cutting through fabric. It was a pale blue slash, long as a finger, thin and straight as an arrow. A popping and crackling sound had joined the humming, louder than ever. The smell of lightning was overpowering now.

Then there more slashes. They crisscrossed over each other in symbols, appearing in a circle until there was a ring of small blue cuts in the air. They sizzled like something hot enough to sear. Haggis had run his throat hoarse. He sat and whimpered and growled at the strange thing at the other end of the farm.

The little cuts swelled up until they joined together, creating a large pool of blue light. Something fell out of it and hit the ground hard. And then the light vanished, as soon as it appeared. The popping, crackling and sizzling vanished with it, but the smell of lightning and humming, which died back down do a buzz, lingered for much longer.