Aldo's Fantastical Movie Palace by Jonathan Friesen

didn’t complain — the elves’ faces held a strange urgency, and she was hushed each time she spoke.
    Finally, they stopped. Strong, oaken hands grasped them and Hael pointed down.
    â€œWe are above it. The Remnant Road. Before It covered the land with deception, when these trees where saplings, this road stretched into the heart of what is now the Unknown Forest. Now it is overgrown, never used. We have no reason to walk it.”
    The chieftain interrupted. “This road stretches from the forest in the west to the Eastern Sea and will lead you to the palace, if that’s where you wish to go. Although I wish on you another destination.” He glanced down, kicked at a branch with his toe. “Retinya is a more beautiful place with you in it.”
    Chloe opened her mouth, but no sounds came out.
    â€œI hope you will find your friend as well,” the chief added. “The trees placed him and his mouth in a boat and sent him down the Green River. It will intersect with this road in short order.”
    â€œWe get to walk?” Chloe’s arms ached, and she slid partway down her vine.
    â€œThe ground is evil,” called the chieftain. “The land will warn It of your presence. But there are paths that have not sworn allegiance. Use your stone to light the way.”
    Chloe dug her small mountain stone from her pocket, and two towering oaks lowered her and Nob halfway to the ground. “How will we know where to step?”
    â€œFollow Scout,” Hael called. “He knows.”
    â€œI don’t know a Scout. I haven’t met a Scout.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve never seen a … Scout?”
    A new figure hung, silently silhouetted against the forest deep. Chloe lifted the glowing stone and illuminated his face.
    The young man did not squint. From the neck up, Scout looked regal, with a proud, noble air. He clearly did not live in the forest — his skin was tanned and weathered, as if he’d walked a thousand miles beneath a burning sun. But from the neck down, all royal appearances vanished. He dressed in a loose shirt, torn and dirty, with trousers that hung from four leather straps that crisscrossed his chest.
    â€œYou were never in the script,” Chloe said.
    â€œYou’d be surprised where I’ve been.” Scout hinted a smile. He then turned and frowned at Nob.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Chloe asked. “You know each other?”
    Scout bowed as well as a young man can while hanging on a vine. “I’m pleased to meet you. I will get you to the city of Medahon, this I promise, though I have no idea why you’d want to go. After that, our paths will likely separate. I have business of my own.” He leaned closer. “I only ask that you walk in my steps. Do not stray. Do not step to the left or right. As the chieftain said, the ground is evil — well, most of it.”
    â€œMedahon? I love that city! Do you want to hear who designed it?”
    Scout whisked down his vine. Chloe sighed and slid the rest of the way to the forest floor, where leaves and branches crackled beneath her feet.
    She kicked at the brambles. “This is a road? Nob, what do you think?”
    â€œI can’t go,” Nob whispered from above.
    Chloe stared up. “What? Secholit ordered you. He told you to help me. He —”
    â€œAnd I have. I — This part is beyond my ability. It wasn’t what I was asked to do, not really. I was asked to take you down —”
    â€œAnd help me!”
    Nob gazed at the ground, his words coming quietly. “You don’t know what lies ahead, but I do. I lived here.”
    â€œThat’s not true. I know this city and its beautiful walls and wild staircases and … I know where we are. I drew the map! I sketched you from nothing! In
Mary Poppins
Bert could do anything. You’re just like him. You can do this.”
    â€œChloe?”