---------------------
Read and Excerpt
Chapter One
He trudged through the marsh with high boots on. It was a peaceful day, like most days, and he was already sick of it. As a commoner, John was not into much or responsible for much. His shop had been the supplier of the best honey for years, passed down from his grandfather and his father, until now. John was the head of the shop with his son for company, although only four years old. His son was not with him today. No, it was just John, trudging through the marsh, bored out of his mind. Usually he loved getting away from the shop but today was not a good day. There was a festival tomorrow and he was antsy to get his shop ready and fill his produce to make money. He could not do that without his famous honey - the honey that he collected from the marsh each month.
As he trudged along with his head hanging, he thought about the festival the next day. He would sell out of his honey supply most certainly, which meant he would have to come back here the following day to retrieve some more. That was not a problem. He just wished he could collect twice the amount of honey so he could make twice the amount of profit, but that was not possible. It took him all day just to get one batch. The marsh was so far from town and so difficult to walk through that he was lucky to get back for dinner.
His wife hated days like these when he was out in no-man’s land and she was left to take care of the kids at home by herself, but they would make up for it tomorrow. They always did.
Festivals were a time of joy and drunkenness. Rather, joy from drunkenness. He and the misses always had a good go after a long day at the festival. If they could, they would roll in the money they collected from selling honey, but rolling across gold coins would hurt more than anything.
John continued to walk along, his pace quickening and head gaining height as he thought about the night after the festival with his wife. He was so enthralled in playing the scene out in his head that he did not even realize when his left boot got stuck.
He was out in a different area of the marsh today. The area where he got last month’s supply had begun to dry up so he was going further in today and was not all together familiar with this trail.
He took another step and almost fell over, but thank goodness he caught himself before he ended up in the mucky, bug-infested water. But the boot would not come out. Finally he yanked it free but almost fell head first into the water in front of him, but instead, fell through a silent barrier - The Boundary. It was the forbidden boundary and he had not realized he had breeched it until something bit him on the neck; actually, he may not have even noticed it then. He was not that bright, you see. He did next what anyone would do - he swatted at the pesky little bugger and missed. It buzzed in front of his face as he managed to get a blurry image of it.
It was big for something that could fly, but no bigger than his head. It had razor sharp teeth that overlapped its lips, with wings to keep it in the air. The last thing he remembered was that it was laughing, then he collapsed. Mud engulfed his brain, filling his ears with water and grossness. He did not surface. Could not surface.
John was not coming up.
That was a bummer too, because now he would never have that long-awaited go with his wife after the festival.
“What have you done?” A few of them whispered.
But the child was not listening. He was eyeing his new toy as it swayed in the distance, not completely able to control itself anymore. The zombie stood there with one leg bent inward and drool escaping from his mouth. The child had done a fantastic job with his first victim.
“Trelk, what do you have to say for yourself?” his mother asked.
Trelk fluttered in the air with his two small wings going at a hundred miles an hour. He blushed. “Did I do a good job?” he squeaked.
His father started to smile but then his wife backhanded him in the gut. “Do not encourage the boy,” she commanded.
Trelk saw his father’s smile though and fluttered higher.
“What is going on here?”
The dense tree area suddenly went still and quiet. Every faery fluttered to the ground and hushed their little ones.
“My King, please allow me to apologize.” Trelk’s mother pointed to her son. “My son has infected a human. I have always told him to never do such a thing, but some instincts cannot be sustained, it would seem.”
Denimorin, the Faery King, was a rather plump faery. His stomach was the biggest part of his body as it stuck out further than his feet. He had a long, black beard that hung to his waistline and he wore a brown leaf to cover below his waist, along with a green cape made of moss that hung from his neck and down his back. He soared into the middle of those gathered and hung there in the air as everyone sat on the ground below him. “I see. Bring the boy forward.”
Trelk soared up to Denimorin without hesitation and hung in the air in front of him with a fat smile on his face.
“And what is your name, my boy?” Denimorin asked in a deep voice, puffing out his chest as he spoke.
“Trelk!” he screamed in excitement. “And that is my zombie!” He pointed to John who was standing outside the circle, and almost knocked the King in the nose with his pointer finger.
Denimorin put his hand between his face and the boy’s finger as if warding away something gross. “And a good zombie it is.”
A faery woman gracefully flew up next to Denimorin and smiled broadly at Trelk. She was tall for a faery and very slender. She wore a purple dress made from flowers and her red hair fell below her waist. Her wings were a mix of silver and purple with a few delicately designed holes in them, although none of the holes were damaging.
“My dear Igmedita, this here is Trelk. He is the master of the zombie,” Denimorin informed his wife.
“That is very good news!” she squealed, and Trelk’s face lit up in excitement.
“So can I keep him?” Trelk asked the Faery King and Queen.
Igmedita touched her husband’s back lovingly and smiled at Trelk. “Of course you can, and I shall even let you play with him.”
“Really? Oh, thank you! This is the best ever!” Trelk said with much enthusiasm. “Ma! I get to keep him. Is that not cool?”
“Yes, dear, very … cool,” his mother called rather hesitantly from the ground.
“Trelk, the king and I would like to speak with you and your parents. Okay?” Igmedita asked kindly.
“Okay!” Trelk said. “Ma, bring Da and come up here! Queen lady wants to talk to us.”
“As for everyone else, you may go back to your daily activities. And please do not get too close to Trelk’s zombie,” Igmedita said gracefully with open arms. “Go in peace.” The forest area soon cleared and Igmedita continued her conversation. “Trelk, honey.” Igmedita fluttered down to his eye level and beamed at him. “I have a special job for you. A very special job. How would you like to take your new pet and go play outside the boundary?”
Trelk’s mother gasped as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Her husband put his arm around her shoulders and brought her in close to his chest, shielding her from the awful words the Queen spoke.
Igmedita looked at the husband and wife out of the corner of her eye. A smile remained plastered to her face, but death bled out of every crevice on her beautiful body.
Trelk flew over to his parents and grabbed onto his father’s wings. His father lost some height and dropped rapidly toward the ground before releasing himself from Trelk and flying back up to his wife.
Trelk just hung there in the air and appealed to his parents. “Da, can I? Can I, please?” he begged.
“Trelk,” his father began. “We have taught you better. You know that we do not leave the boundary.” He pointed to John. “Do you not see what happens when you give into your instincts?”
“I know! It is awesome, is it not?” Trelk’s wings sputtered as he flew around in excited circles. “I want to make more!”
“And you will,” Igmedita said lightly. She slyly turned her back to the boy’s parents, blocking them from his view. “You can make all the zombies you want outside of the boundary.”
The King and Queen looked at each other and shared a satisfied look. Igmedita pointed secretly behind herself to Trelk’s parents and in one fluid motion, made a slicing gesture across her throat.
