Chapter 3:

The Redcaps

Edgar and Zi-Zi awoke early in the morning, ate a simple breakfast, then cleaned up camp and set off on their way. They were only in the foothills, which meant there was still a great deal of distance to cover. Edgar had noticed upon waking that Zi-Zi was becoming weaker still, and he began having doubts as to whether she would survive the journey to the mountain, and if she did, if she would live through the return trip.

   Not that, of course, returning was a given for either of them. Many people who approach Father Time are simply annihilated. Edgar knew this only too well and could do nothing save pray that he and Zi-Zi would not fall prey to such an unfortunate mishap. He was determined to restore the timekeepers, and with them the sanity of the world. But it was not so much for the sake of the world as it was that of his mother's and Zi-Zi's. He wanted to keep their world safe; Zi-Zi in fact was not native to his country, but had come from a land far away; and her family had been destroyed by a great plague when she was just a youngling. She of course had survived but was ever irked by the lasting memory of what had happened, and since was a delicate girl. Even after coming to Edgar's country and brought up by good surrogates, she remained delicate and therefore easily troubled. Thus Edgar had made it his duty—since the day they'd met as children in the town's one-room schoolhouse—to always protect and defend Zi-Zi, and to keep her sky from falling no matter the circumstance or the lengths he may have to go. He was a man of his word, and so far had not once failed his beloved. 

   And he was not bound to so fail her now, especially as pale and lacking in strength as she seemed to become with each passing hour.

   The sun was getting higher, though deep among the forests green it was not so easy to tell; for the ethereal shades of deep jade and pine darkened the paths upon which Edgar and Zi-Zi trod. Light filtered in from above, but it was spotty; for the leaves above were thick and great in number. Strange noises flitted from the corners of the woods—a whistle here, a gurgle there. Zi-Zi assumed the sounds belonged to hidden birds and streams, but Edgar, having read as many old legends as he could get his hands on in his early youth, knew the noises belonged to the Gnomes, and that those noises were really very cheerful ones; for the Gnomes, while mischievous at times, are known to be very devoted to tending the forest as though it is one massive garden. The Gnomes have fun as they work, jesting and laughing; making their tasks seem more like play than labor. 

   The Gnomes, Edgar knew, were also said to be most territorial, which is where their mischievousness comes into play. Small as they are, they still manage to baffle even the greatest of men, and hence most humans do not dare enter the Redcap Woods. 

   Edgar was presently lost in thought and studying an old map, navigating not only by the paper in hand but by the Legends stored clearly in his memory. He had read the Legends so often and at such length that he knew them word for word, and could recite them promptly upon request. 

   Zi-Zi, toiling tiredly behind him at some distance, lifted her voice in a worried query. "Edgar, how long till we arrive? My feet are suddenly in a great deal of flashing, burning pain."

   Now, if Zi-Zi had read the Legends, she'd have known that the reason for her sore feet was a Gnomish trick; at some point or other she had walked through a very nearly invisible plant known as a Twinklesmart, which is a type of weed that causes discomfort in the area it is exposed to; on most occasions, it affects the feet.

   The Gnomes plant the Twinklesmarts purposely to keep unwanted travelers out of their woods, and it works for the most part, for ninety-nine percent of travelers who come into contact with the weeds advance homeward and never return to the Redcap Woods. 

   "You likely stepped in the Twinklesmarts, Zi-Zi," Edgar said absently. 

   "Twinklesmarts," she snorted incredulously, wrinkling her nose in sheer disgust. "Whatever put such a silly thing into your head?"

   "I read about them in the Legends. They are weeds and the pain will pass. Really, the cure is very simple; take off your shoes and stockings and walk barefoot. You'll find that the soil will heal your discomfort almost immediately."

   Zi-Zi promptly obeyed him, astonished to find that his words were true. She oddly felt strengthened, and quickly caught up with her companion.

   From among the trunks of trees and the boughs and leaves, unseen and unsuspected, the Gnomes frowned and murmured in displeasure, conspiring against these queer humans who seemed to know the ways of evading Gnomish capers.

   Now, the Gnomes have a language (aptly recognized as Gnomish) which they speak, and as far as the Gnomes have documented in their history, not one human is known who can understand them. 

   However, Edgar was not a typical human, which explains why he could understand this language, and furthermore, why he was more worthy a man to approach Father Time, especially in such a fashion. Not only was Edgar the son of a hardworking baker, he was also well-educated in the Legends. Many a cold winter night he had spent at his mother's or father's knee by the fireside, listening in awe to the tales bound within a great green book with gild letters across the front. The book contained the Legends, and not only had he been brought up with them, he devoted hours to studying the fascinating tales as he grew in age. This made him such a good candidate, and Zi-Zi was lucky to accompany him, for this journey was going to be more magnificent than anyone would have believed—so much to the point that their story will be unbelieved by many in the end. But I must not get ahead of myself.

   At the sound of the Gnomes' gruff little voices, Edgar's head snapped up from studying the map. Zi-Zi was alarmed and linked her arm in his. "What is wrong?"

   "I can hear the Gnomes," he said in plain Gnomish, and she tipped her head confusedly, letting out a ringing, amused peal of girlish laughter.

   "Edgar, you are talking like a mushroom would sound. Please, in the Queen's English, repeat what you said."

   He repeated his statement in "the Queen's English" as pleaded, and his companion's eyes became like glass marbles. 

   "Gnomes?"

   "Don't search for them, Zi-Zi. If you do, they will further hinder us on our journey. Let us walk as though we are not aware of them, and so they shall only commit their standard haunts and leave us to exit freely when they see that we mean no harm to them. I advise you from now on not to pick a single flower, no matter how beautiful, and to be gentle with every plant as you are in your own garden, for that is what the Redcaps are to the Gnomes—one giant garden, and they pride themselves in the care they give the place. They hate to see any of their hard work destroyed, for they feel it speaks volumes of bad integrity in a human, and they do not trust us as it is."

   Zi-Zi nodded and held fast to his arm, worriedly glancing about and trying to hide her concern. She did not question Edgar's knowledge, though she did think it quite silly to believe the stories told within the Legends as seriously as he did. But then, his knowledge did seem to have some sense to it, and she felt it was best to bide by what he knew and not what she believed.

   On they continued through the Redcap Woods—a much vaster, more extensive forest than anyone might expect. From time to time they encountered more Gnomish tricks, but most commonly, Twinklesmarts. So commonly, in fact, that Zi-Zi learned to identify these plants and managed to keep out of their way much more easily than she had in the past. 

   As the woods continued to grow denser, Edgar became aware that while the Gnomes certainly inhabited the entire forest, there were definitely more of them concentrated here than anyplace else. Edgar's senses told him that he and Zi-Zi were surrounded, and that the Gnomes were closing in. Not wanting to alarm or be separated from his beloved, he reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly, drawing her near to him and noting that her eyes seemed wrinkled at the corners even though she was not smiling. He had studied her face at length over all the years he'd known her, and not once had he known her to have the slightest pucker in her smooth skin, especially around the eyes. The wrinkles worried him.

   He heard rustling bushes, which Zi-Zi believed to be caused by wind, and suddenly there was a loud, shrill cry—and a massive clay pot was clapped over our travelers' heads in the manner one might snuff a candle.
   The air was thick with the sound of high little voices chanting loudly in Gnomish. Stricken with terror, Zi-Zi turned white and fainted. Edgar held her limp body and tried desperately to revive her. 

   Suddenly, the pot was jostled and the travelers flew back against one of the clay walls, tumbling to the bottom as the pot was raised up on its proper end. They hit the clay floor with a resounding thud, which jerked Zi-Zi to consciousness. As Edgar exclaimed with joy and attempted to give her some water, the pot was lifted from the ground and began to move. Zi-Zi began to panic again, and Edgar was compelled to silence her, for he knew that their troubles would only increase if they did not remain calm. 

   The sound of the voices grew rower and all the more riotous as the pot was bumped and jostled across the forest. Edgar was vaguely aware that they were scaling back much of the distance they had already covered. This worried him. Suddenly our travelers were drowned in bright sunlight and noisy little jeers. Zi-Zi trembled in his arms, not comprehending the cries, but Edgar understood each word and was amused. He began to laugh, which unsettled the poor girl until she cried. Not wanting her to believe he was mocking her, he settled down and did what he could to comfort her. In an instant, the pot was suddenly tipped onto its rim again, trapping our travelers once more. They remained so all night. Zi-Zi, exhausted by so much confusion, slept soundly. Edgar stayed awake, wary of what the Gnomes may be plotting. He may have dozed off at one point, for he opened his eyes and found himself and his companion to be wet with morning dew, which had dropped in through the hole above them. But now sunlight filtered through this hole (which generally is found on the bottom of a flower pot but in this case is the top of their clay prison), and Edgar was relieved to know that it would dry them quickly.

   A sound of reeds being blown rang through the air as the pot was upended; freeing the travelers completely. But they did not move, for there was no chance of escape—they were surrounded by hordes of Gnomes, great and small.

   The little Gnome men wore brown little boots, green pants, and navy-colored flannel button-downs. The little white beards of the elders were neatly trimmed (I say elders because the young men do not grow out their whiskers until they marry or grow old), and each one's pair of bushy white eyebrows loomed  fluffily above a pair of lively, beady black eyes. The little Gnome women wore navy dresses and white waist aprons, and little crocus-yellow pointed shoes (resembling wooden clogs) made of a felt-like cloth. Their hair was a fair blonde color, so blonde it was nearly white, and pulled back in pigtails or wound into tight buns according to their individual fancying. Their eyes were indeed as black and beady as those of the men-folk, but their eyebrows were thinner and smoother, unlike the bush-like resemblance those of the men bore. The Gnome children were all dressed alike to their parents, so all had a uniform appearance to them. And all Gnomes, both old and young, wore the signature pointed Red Caps—the clothing article all Gnomes are easily and most recognizably known for. 

   Our travelers were struck dumb for quite some time, awed by the presence of the little white-haired men and women. There was something surreal about these little figures, all rosy-cheeked and beady-eyed. Some carried trowels, others held weeding forks. A few possessed loppers, rakes, and hoses. 

   If these were—apart from gardening tools—weapons of choice, Edgar had no doubt that they very well knew how to use them. 

   Again the reeds were blown, and a grand, larger Gnome, with a massive yellow dandelion stuck into his cap, stepped forth upon an overhead platform made of a type of tree fungus. He surveyed the Human captives of his people, and frowned in displeasure. Then he began to shout in Gnomish. While Zi-Zi stared and trembled, Edgar listened. Translated into English, this is what the grand Gnome was sputtering:

   "This is an outrage! Who is the guilty party to let such trespassers tread upon our soil? Who allowed them to travel so far within our woods? Humans are not to be trusted!"

   He ranted further, so great was his disgust. He repeatedly commanded the guilty party to step forth. None did. When given permission to speak, each Gnome protested that the human intruders had not been thwarted by even the greatest of Gnomish tricks. The great Gnome (who was obviously their leader) waggled his bushy white brows as an ugly scowl crossed his already infuriated face. Then, turning his beady eyes on the prisoners, he spoke curtly: "If your protests are true, then, I demand to know how they possibly could have evaded each trap."

   Edgar, though he had not been summoned nor given permission to do so, without prompt or inquisition, rose to his full and (to the Gnomes, at least) terrible height, speaking boldly in very articulate Gnomish.

    "Given to us by the Legends, we have knowledge of the ways of the Gnomes. We do not fear you. We come in peace, and mean no destruction to your peaceful woodland kingdom. We are here because we have been chosen by Fate to embark on a quest to save the world from the potentially fatal antics and misdeeds of Father Time. He has taken away our timekeepers, and has begun to mess with the Earth's Inner Clock. Which, in so doing, has toyed with the instinctual sense of time in all living creatures and plants, and even non-living things (though, I am unsure how a rock can have a sense of Time). I and my companion are on a great journey to confront Father Time in hopes that we may put an end to his terrible acts. We do not have an eternity to do so."

   All were hushed, including Zi-Zi. Each eye was fixed upon Edgar's brave, unwavering and handsome countenance. Though the son of a baker, he suddenly looked as if he had been born for something far greater—kingship, perhaps. He was authoritative without conceit, bold without recklessness. Of course, as you and I both know, he was born for the extraordinary. But we must not get ahead of the story.

   As stated previously, the Gnomes were silenced by Edgar's speech. And they knew clearly what he had spoken about, for the Gnomes are also well-educated in the Legends. It is part of their culture. Upon hearing what this dashing young man had to say, terror struck the hearts of each and every tiny personage. Not only because he had spoken truth in their language rather than his own, but because they feared for their home; if Time was fiddled with, things would not grow (and deplete) properly, and that would result in death, famine, the loss of their dwelling-place, insanity, and even  total extinction of their kind. As gardeners, skilled in tending God's Earth, they knew it was right and proper to take care of what they had been created to attend. Destruction of time was the wasting of talents.

   The grand Gnome observed Edgar for a great while, then found his voice again and ordered that the young man be brought into the war room at once. The Gnomish soldiers hustled him to it immediately. Edgar worried as he was lead into a hollow tree by the warriors, wondering if he was prepared for this. It was evident that they wanted to interrogate him.

   As for Zi-Zi? She was to be kept unharmed in the resting-house. She trembled all the greater as she was whisked away by the small Gnome women.

   After hearing what Edgar had to say, the Gnome leader trusted that our travelers were most surely on an errand of goodwill, and henceforth ordered that an alliance be made—for in confronting Father Time, our travelers would be saving the Gnomes. As an expression of their appreciation, the Gnomes pledged to aid Edgar and Zi-Zi should any inescapable trouble befall them.

   Following the interrogation, Edgar was free to repose in the rest-house near Zi-Zi. He was filled with gratitude to find that the Gnomes had not harmed her in the least, and he was equally grateful to consume the food which the small people laid before him. This was yet another token of alliance and peace.

Chapter 2:

The Quest

"You're going where?!" Steven Kennedy's bewildered expression was utterly priceless as Edgar coolly presented to him the state of affairs. 

   Kennedy had become quite riled. 

   "Your mother is a hen, she would never let you—"

   Edgar punched Kennedy hard in the jaw. "Don't you dare insult my mother in that way! She only wants me to be safe." He stalked off in high dudgeon, making a list in his mind of the things he must gather before setting out with Zi-Zi to find out where their timekeepers had gone. He did not want to waste a moment more, especially knowing the myth as well as he did, which meant he knew how instantly wrong everything could go. He hadn't wanted to leave Zi-Zi—for she'd begun to look so ill and aged all of a sudden—but he needed to head home for a few things before they could set out, and he had been forced to leave her.

   At home, Edgar gathered items into a knapsack frantically, throwing on a cloak and grabbing a weapon, then hurriedly kissed his mother goodbye, swiftly relaying to her the very words that had alarmed Steven Kennedy.

   She was struck with horror by this, and made a great deal of protesting against his plan, even following him out of the house, shouting reprovingly—and this caused an outbreak in the town. Edgar did what he could to avoid it, calling on Zi-Zi and slipping away from the mobs by way of Zi-Zi's backyard. The two fled into the hills, fearing for their lives—the mobs were pressing close and demanded to know why the twosome was leaving, and if they were the cause of the vanished timekeepers. 

   Though Zi-Zi appeared weak and frail, she kept pace with Edgar and even outran him at intervals. They ran until nightfall, only ceasing their flight once safely within the Emerald Hills, whereupon they contrived to build a shelter and by firelight study a map brought by Edgar and an ancient scroll which Zi-Zi had so thoughtfully placed in her sack. 

Chapter 1:

An Odd Disappearance

Edgar woke up and looked out the window. Shifting his eyes to the nightstand, he was surprised to find that his clock was missing. His mother was shouting his name, so he hurried to dress. 

When he arrived downstairs, Edgar saw that Mother's face was white with shock. 

   "What's the matter, Mother?" he asked quietly. "Did something go wrong?"

   "Yes," she stammered, "yes, Edgar, yes! There isn't any clock to be found in the house and my timer is vanished! Now I am not sure how long my bread has been in the oven." She sat upon a low three-legged wood stool and buried her face in her hands. Edgar put an arm over his mother's shoulders to console her.

   "Don't worry, Mother. Maybe Father took them to the clocksmith."

   "He surely did not," she huffed indignantly. "Edgar, are you out of your mind?!"

   "Hush," he soothed, confused at her outrage, "I'm going to visit Zi-Zi and see what she knows about this." And with that, the boy retreated back upstairs. He wetted his sleek brown hair and parted it decently with a comb. Whenever he went to see Zi-Zi Mosley, he wanted to look his best.

   Softly hurrying downstairs, Edgar slipped out of the house by way of the back door. His feet were dancing, but his mind was preying on some fact that he hadn't one clue about. As he surveyed the small town, he noticed that the clock tower of the library was clockless. The same was true for every building, and people were huddled in large masses, whispering in awed tones about something. From within one crowd outside the general store, Edgar's friend Steven Kennedy came running. 

   "Edgar!" He panted. "Did you hear? All the time-keeping devices have suddenly disappeared! Just vanished! Nobody knows how or why and there are all sorts of dandy speculations, only it seems most are dominated by fantasia. Edgar—"

   He was not paying attention to Steven's frantic breaths and dramatic vocabulary. He pushed Steven away and shoved on through the gatherings despite his friend's pleas to stay. He made it to the walkway outside the storefront and disappeared to Zi-Zi's house, where he rapped loudly on her door. With a window for a mirror, he did his best to recompose his somewhat haggardly appearance, given to him by his escape from Steven and the townspeople.

   Shifting on his feet, he waited quite anxiously for Zi-Zi to answer. She did not. Edgar felt a bit disappointed, and scratched the back of his head, bumfuzzled . Where could she be?

   Suddenly, he heard a soft, sweet voice floating from someplace; humming a tune dizzyingly rich as honey.

   Edgar felt more hopeful and wandered to the backyard. To his dismay it was bordered by a high fence, but he was tall enough to peer over it. Looking into the garden, he sighted a familiar floppy straw sunhat from which flowed masses of thick, wavy, richly tinted auburn hair.

   "Zi-Zi!" Edgar called out. "Is that you?"

   The girl turned her face to him and smiled. Her pale complexion was clear apart from the faint pinkness of the cheeks and lips, and her eyes were a bright, springy green like the leaves of newly budding violets. 

   She rose from the garden she had been kneeling in prior to his call, and came to the fence.

   "Oh, Edgar," she breathed, "isn't it horrible? We don't have a single way to keep track of the time, apart from watching the sun, but you see now the sun has gone behind a cloud. What will we do?" 

   He shrugged and began hoisting himself up a nearby tree—this was the only way to get over the fence, for it had no gate.

   "Edgar Glen, are you insane? Just what do you think you're doing, climbing Ms. Flora Poplin's rose-tree in such a fashion! Come down this minute!"

   "Working on it." Her exclamation had caused him to lose concentration, and he pricked his finger on one of the rose-tree's thorns. 

   "Ouch!" He whipped the injured digit to his mouth to suck the wound, and that was the moment he was startled by yet another shout—which came from behind him.

   "Get out of my tree, young man, or I'll see to it myself that you do!"

   Edgar gulped. Ms. Poplin had seen him. He swung out of the tree with the agility of a monkey and sailed over the fence, landing safely on his feet in Zi-Zi's well-attended backyard while still assuring himself that he hadn't torn his pants. Facing Zi-Zi, he grew suddenly worried. Her face was so much paler than he remembered, and she had dark spots beneath her eyes as if she had not been sleeping well. Her hands were clasped, and she was evidently much troubled.

   "What has happened to our world, Edgar? And just overnight? What will become of us?"

   "Zi-Zi, you're tired. How about we go sit in the shade?"

   She seemed to lighten at this suggestion. "I have some lemonade and cake that I could bring out—it must be about noon-time now."

   Edgar's stomach growled, and he realized that he had gone without eating breakfast, and the walk to town was a long one even if he had never noticed it. Still, it could not possibly be noon. Edgar was convinced that Zi-Zi had gotten worked up enough to forget it was morning, that was all. But who could turn down cake? He certainly never could, even if it was not the most wholesome thing to eat for breakfast.

   Zi-Zi brought the cake—a round, beautifully golden angel food cake with little June strawberries freckled upon it. The lemonade was in a tall glass pitcher, sparkling all yellow as if it were there to replace the hidden sunlight, with chunks of ice and lemon slices bobbing cheerily about. Beside the pitcher were two tall glasses, and two plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake—and all these things were attractively arranged on a silver tray which Zi-Zi carried in her pale, slender hands, and she set it upon an iron lace patio table with grace, gesturing for her guest to sit. Edgar eagerly did so, and Zi-Zi cut a slice of cake for each of them, and poured the lemonade. They ate and drank in silence at first, until Zi-Zi began to think about their missing timekeeping devices again and felt she had to speak.

   "Why did they go missing?" She queried, forgetting to fully explain what her question was about. Edgar laughed at this.

   "What are you talking about, Zi-Zi?"

   He noticed that she hesitated, and it worried him. Could she not explain? Was she not well?

 
   "The clocks, watches, timers, sundials—all of it. Why did they disappear so suddenly? I am lucky to have made this cake last night."

   "It is very odd," he admitted, nodding. "My mother was all in a fluster about it this morning when I arrived for breakfast, but there was none to be eaten—she had burned the bread, and not by her own fault. She did not remember how long she'd had the bread in there, and that's all.

   "Do you suppose this means it will get bad enough to where we have no bread for awhile, Zi-Zi? Or cake?"

   "I'm tempted to lean to the thought, Edgar," she nodded sadly.

   He rose from his seat, suddenly looking very determined. 

   "Unless we can find a way to calm the town, there will be nothing but chaos."

   Zi-Zi instantly looked more tired and weak than ever. 

   "You are saying that we are the ones who can do this. How are you certain?"

   Edgar's cheeks blushed crimson with abashment, for it was upon hearing her words that he realized he hadn't bothered to back up his protest. "Well, you may think this is silly...for all it's really an old myth if it is anything else...but there is a legend of sorts I read about in a very old book. It described a period over a certain town on the earth when Father Time decided to take their time away from them, and the things that helped them keep track of it—as a test."

   Zi-Zi was intrigued, and she leaned forward on her slender arms, looking weaker and still more fragile. "Please, tell me the story."

   And so he began:
   "When it came right for the test to be performed, Father Time sent his Legions—led by his righthand man Fraon—to capture every device used by mankind to keep track of time. And when all had been collected, Fraon and the Legions returned to the mountain where Father Time resides, keeping everything working steadily. But now, the time had been messed up, see. People were aging faster than they should. Some grew up the day they were born. A five year old girl could grow up in an hour and marry a man who could have been her father in a normal world. 
   "But see, Time was irrelevant. Thus, age became likewise—for without proper measurement of time, and with Father Time messing with the world's inner clock, everything was not as it should be. It was chaos. But then, one night out of nowhere, a scroll was left at the doorstep of a young man."

   "What was in the scroll?" Zi-Zi's eyes were like glittering green abysses, so intrigued was she by the myth.
   "It was a special message—one that said the young man had been chosen specifically to lead his fellow humans out of this chaos—but the only way to do that was to confront Father Time."

   The girl's dainty eyebrows lifted in shock. "Confront him? But that's—" 

   Edgar ignored her and continued, "Now, the myth claims Father Time to be a deity—at least, that's how he was depicted—but he was not. He simply ran the clock within the world, and subsequently everything that revolves around time.

   "To confront Father Time would take much strength, courage, and perseverance. But the young man could not come alone, for he had to have a companion along. A companion who held a certain piece of knowledge that the young chap did not know.

   "Which, in this case, was the solution to making Father Time change everything back to normal. The young man had to seek for a person who knew such things. And he did."

   "What did he do then?"

   "Well, after finding his companion, they embarked on a quest."

   "A quest to find Father Time on his mountain?"

   "Yes—and I believe that you and I shall have to do the same."