Hey, it's Bryce! This is just a taste of my exciting adventures when I first visited the land of Glideon!
___________________
Bryce jumped to his feet and brandished the pole to ward off whoever just spoke. Pain shot through his leg.
“Yow!”
“Fear not,” the voice said.
Bryce sputtered and spun around on his good leg. Still, he saw no one. He shouted to the empty space, “Who are you? Show yourself! Are you the Lost Explorer?”
“The Lost Explorer? Certainly not!” the voice answered. “You’re in Glideon—the Sludge Valley region of Glideon, to be precise. This area is known as Sludge Canyon.”
“Wait, what?! Where?!” Bryce asked, slapping the pole against his hand.
“Relax, be at peace,” the voice said.
Bryce stared at the horizon. Before him all he could see was an endless wasteland of sludge. In the distance, he thought he saw the ruins of an old castle. In the other direction, a forest.
“You are upset, angry, and afraid,” said the gentle high-pitched voice. “Not a good combination for anyone.”
The voice sounded like it was right beside him. Bryce whirled around and around until he made himself dizzy.
“Calm down or you’ll hurt yourself. You humans are always searching for big things, when the true things are small and often hidden in plain sight. Look down. I’m right beside you.”
Bryce wobbled to a stop. He looked down and then staggered backward in disbelief. Standing before him was a creature unlike any he’d ever seen. It was covered in red fur, with huge eyes like the owl plushie in his Easter basket when he was little. About the size of a small monkey but much fluffier, it was no taller than Bryce’s knee. The bright red fur on its head stuck out in angled points, as though it was perpetually windblown.
“I’m so exhausted from crawling out of that quicksand. I must be delirious. Now I’m hallucinating! This is all just some crazy dream. Maybe I’m back home in bed and I never got in a fight with Finneas, or lost Leo, or wandered into the woods.”
“This is not a dream,” the talking plushie replied. “You are in Glideon, which I’ve already told you. I’m a Gliddle. We have inhabited Glideon since the time before time, when the land was as wondrous and pure as the faith of a child. Like all Gliddles, I burst to life from the buds of the Singing Trees. I am Kam-Elia, of the Cardinal Brood, of the ancient Seers of Sage Valley, below the Purpleback Mountains.”
Bryce said nothing. He just stared at the fluffy creature.
Kam-Elia stared back. The Gliddle’s bulbous eyes sparkled with joy. So far, regardless of what it said, its expression remained one of pure elation.
“What may I call you?” Kam-Elia asked.
“Uh, I’m Bryce.”
“It’s a delight to meet you, Bryce. Did Professor Watts summon you?”
“Who?”
“Professor Watts. Rescuer of Gliddle refugees. Restorer of Glideon. Architect of Lightglider Academy. I assume since you vanquished our foe,” the Gliddle pointed at the pole in Bryce’s hand, “Watts must have called you to rescue Gliddles. With Watts gone, we need you Lightgliders now more than ever!”
Bryce looked down at the metal rod. “Huh? I didn’t vanquish your foe. I just used this lamp—er, this metal rod—to save myself from drowning in this horrendous swamp.”
“Ingenious!”
“I guess,” Bryce replied. “I was just trying to survive.”
“Yes, I noticed,” Kam-Elia said.
“You noticed?”
“Yes. I was over there, behind that boulder,” Kam-Elia pointed eastward at a large gray boulder surrounded by weeds.
“You were watching? And you didn’t help me!?” Bryce exclaimed.
“With so many Gliddles taken captive, I couldn’t risk being added to their number. I had to be sure you were not allied with Grapethorne and his Machines,” Kam-Elia replied. “My sincerest apologies. I now know I should have helped you. But we’ve lost . . .” Kam-Elia’s voice softened and shook. “We’ve lost so many Gliddles.”
Kam-Elia blinked rapidly, and a tear fell onto the walkway.
“But then,” Kam-Elia sniffled, “I witnessed you rising from the sludge with the Machine arm in your hand. I knew you had defeated the sinister enemy, a dreaded Pincher. It was then I realized you were a Lightglider, and I flew from my shelter to greet you!”
“Grapethorne? Machines? Lightglider?” Bryce asked. He knelt before the Gliddle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m from Victor Harbor. This is Granite Island. All I did was wander into those trees over there,” Bryce pointed westward to the swamp where there were no trees—and then slowly pulled his hand back to his side.
“What trees?” Kam-Elia asked, looking around. “The nearest trees are in that direction, half a kilometer away. Were you up north in the Purple Mountain foothills? That glorious parcel of Glideon is a half day journey, by glider.” The Gliddle paused and glanced around. “By the Bryce and the Lost Pearl 99 way, where is your glider? Blight is way too dangerous for humans to navigate without one.”
“Again.” Bryce ran his hands through his hair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! I have to get back home. I must find Leo and get back to Uncle Barn. I must go . . . now!”
“Hmmm.” Kam-Elia’s eyes were closed as though deep in thought. “Maybe. Yes, yes, yes.”
“Yes, what?” Bryce asked, standing up. He rubbed his sore ankle.
“We will endeavor to send you homeward, but first—”
Before Kam-Elia could say anymore, a thunderous crash erupted from the tree line in the distance.
Kam-Elia instantly darted behind Bryce. He could feel the Gliddle shaking against his legs.
“No, no, no,” Kam-Elia whispered.
Several saplings exploded from the forest’s edge. The trees scattered and skidded across the ground like pick-up sticks. Jangled and jostled in every direction, whatever sent the timber flying was more powerful than dynamite. As the dust settled, Bryce and Kam-Elia remained frozen on the bridge.
In the spot where the trees had been standing just moments before, a procession of part-octopus, partautomobile machines came rumbling into the clearing. Bryce squinted, trying to make sense of the sight. They were about three hundred meters away and headed straight for Bryce and his new Gliddle companion.
The devices had long metal arms with enormous tong-like claws affixed to a spinning center orb on which they rolled, like giant trackballs from a vintage video game. The orbs spun, propelling the metal beast along the ground. All the while, claws snapped at the air.
“No, no, no,” Kam-Elia whispered again.
Bryce looked down at the metal pole. He looked down at Kam-Elia, quivering behind his knee.
“Those are . . . those are . . .” he said.
“Machines,” they whispered in unison.
