Bran Hambric: The Farfield Curse by Kaleb Nation

magical, and I will never, ever shake hands with a gnome. I will never join the army, or live anywhere near my brother, or help a mage out of jail. And I will never, ever, ever become a politician! Is that clear to you, Rosie Tuttle?"
    Rosie nodded nervously. They were in a small clearing just below the famous Givvyng Hill, which went very far up above them with a slow slant. On top of the hill was the Givvyng Tree, the same on which were carved the famous words, "no gnomes, no mages." A short distance away, there was a sidewalk that ran alongside the major road; gathering along the sidewalk was a row of booths.
    "Blast this crazy Duncelander weather," Sewey moaned. "It’s so hot."
    "Oh, I give up," Rosie said, exasperated. She stood up and fixed her hat. "I’m going over there to look at the jewelry stand," she said, checking her purse. "I might be able to buy a new pin or something."
    "Bah!" Sewey waved his hand, and she started off for the stands close to the road. The table went very quiet when she left.
    Bran looked about, bored. A short way off to the west, there was a long brick wall that went for miles north and south, so far that he couldn’t see the end. It divided the city of Dunce from the wild and ferocious West Wood. There were tall trees that peeked over the top of the wall, and as Bran peered off into the west, he thought it was darker to that direction in a strange and foreboding way. Balder saw him looking at it.
    "Sewey," Balder pointed to the wall. "What’s that?"
    "What’s what?" Sewey said, looking around.
    "That wall over there," Balder pointed. Sewey’s gaze followed his finger.
    "That, Balder," Sewey explained, "is the West Wall. It divides our city from the ferocious West Wood, which is filled with terrible things. Terrible beasts: maybe bugbears, or
    worse!"
    "Bugbears?" Balder sneered. "You’re pulling my leg!"
    "It’s true," Sewey insisted, waving his arms. "No one ever goes in there; not even mages will step foot in them for fear of the beasts. Wish they would though, and never come back! Those woods go all the way up the side of the globe, and no one’s ever plotted a map of them, and every airplane that accidentally ventures over never returns." He mopped his brow before going on. "It’s best not to even think of the Wall. There are plenty of other, safer things to think of, like banking. And finances. And the stock market…"
    "But what’s in there?" Bran asked, staring at it.
    Sewey wrinkled his brow. "I already said, no one ever goes in," he replied. "So no one knows."
    "I bet there are monsters in there, and they’ll be getting out soon!" Balder burst with glee.
    "Not through that wall, they won’t." Another voice came from behind them, and Bran turned.
    "Hello, Adi," he said.
    Sewey spun as she walked up to them, dressed in light green and holding a cup of lemonade. She smiled warmly and nodded toward the wall.
    "It’s solid brick," she went on. "One door in and one door out, and that’s the Greene Gate."
    She pointed over Balder’s shoulder. Far off, there was a dark green wooden door—thick, bolted, and set into the wall tightly. The hinges were black metal and held it strongly in place. "No one’s opened it for years," she added, putting on an air of mystery. "Thirty years ago, when explorers broke down part of the wall to go in, only one of the entire group made it home: Martilla Greene. She was so terrified when she got back, she was mute the rest of her life, spent all her money to build that gate, and never told anyone what was beyond the wall."
    Sewey’s eyes went wide. He gulped.
    "Are there…monsters?" he whispered.
    Adi shrugged. "Like I said, no one knows," she said, and she took a sip of her lemonade.
    Sewey stared at the wall for a long while, and then finally crossed his arms again. "Well, whatever it is," he said, "it’s probably some gnome’s fault for causing it!" He turned on Adi. "In fact, after what happened to me Friday, things have only gotten