"Close to home…of course," Edgar thought as he faded into existence again. "This has to be the Bountiful Woods, and it's right below Etheria! But I wonder where I should go from here."

He was now in a small meadow in the midst of a vast, thick forest. Birds sang from the branches over his head, the sun shone softly, and life seemed to be all around him. Although he had only visited the woods once or twice and had only explored a small portion of its vast area, it had become familiar to him.

The prince felt a deep sense of peace as he gazed at the forest that surrounded him. It looked as if it was spring, yet when Edgar left Etheria, it was midsummer. Perhaps the seasons moved differently here.

He began making his way to the west. The smell of flowers came faintly to him on the wind, and the leaves on the trees were a brilliant shade of green…as green as the eyes of that woman he had met…

Edgar tried to shake the uncomfortable memory of that woman from his mind. It wouldn't leave easily, though. He presently stopped walking in a small clearing. The trees and shrubs blocked his progress to the west. In the middle of the clearing was a large marble statue of a woman with a doe's head, dressed in a simple robe and holding a large marble urn in front of her. Edgar wondered whether she was meant to be a goddess of the forest. Growing directly beside the doe-woman was a tree with an unusual channel winding its way down its trunk in a spiral, ending above the urn.

Peering closer, Edgar could see a small amount of water in the urn. Perhaps the channel somehow carried water to the urn? He couldn't see why there would be need for such a thing, nor fathom how the channel could have been formed in the first place.

Shaking his head, he began to retrace his steps, passing the clearing where he had arrived and continuing eastward. His progress was impeded by another impassible wall of trees, but as he was turning back, something made him halt dead in his tracks.

A small, elflike creature mounted on a blue and gray bird, perched on an arched tree root, was squinting at Edgar with considerable interest. Deciding that it would be rude to ignore the little being, Edgar politely addressed it:

"Good day."

"Top of the morning to you, friend," the little creature chirped amiably. Its voice was guttural, yet oddly charming as well. "Haven't seen you in these woods before!"

"Well, I don't think I ever have visited this part of the forest before. Who are you?"

"If by that you mean title, I have none, but if by that you mean what I am, can you not tell with your own two eyes?"

Edgar scrutinized the tiny man carefully.

"Not really," he confessed. "You look like a forest sprite to me, though."

"That means there is nothing wrong with your eyesight, lad," laughed the sprite. "What can I do for you, then?"

Since the creature was offering him help, Edgar would certainly be a fool to refuse it. But what could this creature help him with? A sprite certainly wouldn't be the best type to ask about winning the heart of a princess…then Edgar remembered that other woman. Cassima. What was the name of that wizard he had agreed to help her look for?

"I'm looking for a dark wizard called Shadrack. Do you happen to know of him?"

"Nay, I can't say that I do," the sprite buzzed, shifting his weight and making his bird ruffle its feathers slightly. "But I know someone who might."

"Who?"

"She has no name. But she is as old as the trees of this forest and I'm certain that she can tell you about him, and if not, she can surely tell you how to find whoever this fellow is."

"Good," Edgar said. "I will talk to her then. Where is she?"

The sprite suddenly giggled mischievously and grinned broadly.

"Somewhere you can't get to," he snickered.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Edgar demanded.

"But," the sprite continued, raising a gnarled finger, "I can help you get to her."

"Well, all right," Edgar said, growing a little wary of this being's antics. "How?"

"First, you need to do something for me."

"And what's that?"

"My steed is in dire need of water and all the usual streams are either dry or too far away to fly to. Get my bird some water…and I'll give you this."

With these words, the sprite held out a small wooden peg, which Edgar had to bend over in order to get see it clearly.

"What is that?"

"That I will tell you when you find my steed some water," said the sprite, closing his bony fist around the peg. "And hurry. He isn't the patient type."

The bird squawked disagreeably.

"Yes, yes, that too," the sprite said.

Water. The only water Edgar had noticed since his arrival was out of reach at the bottom of that urn that the doe-woman was holding. There was no way to tip the urn over, and even if he could get his hand inside the vessel's narrow opening, that wouldn't get him any closer to getting some water to the sprite's bird. Though Edgar couldn't fathom how a wooden peg would aid him in his search, he decided to help the poor creature just the same.

A thirsty bird…Water in a vessel, just out of reach…The scenario seemed oddly familiar to Edgar. Then he remembered an old story he had read once about a crow trying to get a drink of water out of a pitcher. The crow couldn't reach the water, but it eventually found a way to drink it…but how? Edgar strained to remember.

Then he was kneeling down, scooping pebbles off the forest floor. Of course! The crow had dropped pebbles into the pitcher, and in doing so raised the level of the water high enough to reach.

After gathering a good handful of pebbles, Edgar ran back to the urn and carefully dropped them in. They had indeed raised the level of the water, but only slightly. Edgar went to gather another handful of pebbles, and two trips later, the water was nearly touching the lip of the urn.

Triumphant, Edgar returned to the sprite.

"Well?" the sprite snapped. "Where's the water?"

"In that urn over there," Edgar said, pointing to the west.

"That urn is almost empty!" the sprite barked. "We checked it just a few minutes before you showed up! That water's far too low for my bird to reach!"

"Not anymore. Come and look for yourself."

Edgar led the sprite and his bird (which did indeed seem to be desperate for water, since it seemed too weak even to fly) back to the statue of the doe-woman and the now full urn. The sprite urged his bird to flap up to the edge of the urn, whereupon the bird chattered merrily and started drinking.

"My, my," the sprite said, clearly impressed. "How did you manage to do this, friend? Are you some kind of sorcerer?"

"Not exactly…but speaking of sorcerers, what about that thing you promised me?"

"Thing?" the sprite asked, looking confused for a moment before remembering his promise. "Ah yes! Here you are."

With that, he handed the small peg to Edgar. One end of it was carved into the shape of a leaf.

"So what is this?"

"It is the key, my friend…the key to the forest."

If this was all that he'd worked so hard to obtain, Edgar wasn't very pleased with it.

"What in Levanter's name does that mean?"

"That is for you to find out. Thank you again, and good-bye."

The sprite then began tending to his bird, completely ignoring Edgar's attempts to start another conversation. Giving up, Edgar tucked his meager prize away, turned, and headed east again.

As he was passing his point of arrival again, he espied something that, against all odds, he hadn't noticed before. It was a gigantic tree dominating the clearing to the north. Curious, Edgar headed in that direction, soon finding himself at the base of this colossal example of plant life.

It was too large for him to judge exactly how big it was, and too surrounded by other much smaller trees for him to make his way around. Roots larger than he was pierced the surrounding soil, looking like the legs of a monstrous spider. A small, leafy branch protruded from one of the roots, bending downwards.

Edgar cautiously stepped closer to the tree and touched the enormous trunk. He was wondering whether this tree could possibly be a seedling that fell from Etheria when something caught his eye: a huge slit running up the side of the tree, longer than he was tall with a small hollow resembling a keyhole halfway up its length. The hollow, in turn, was in the middle of a shallow inset about two feet broad, two and a half feet high.

As Edgar was cautiously running his fingers along the slit, the words of the sprite began replaying in his memory:

It is the key, my friend…the key to the forest.

The key to the forest? Edgar took the wooden peg out of his pocket and almost dropped it when he realized that it was made of wood that looked exactly like that of the giant tree. He looked at the hollow in the inset again.

A keyhole…the key to the forest…of course! Why not?

Edgar tried the peg in the hollow, and found that it fit perfectly. He carefully inserted it and before his eyes, the slit within the inset grew wider and wider, until he realized that it wasn't a slit, but a gap between a pair of sliding panels. How could such things form part of a living tree? Was this a living tree, or was there some magic at work here?

When the inset's panels had stopped sliding back, Edgar could see a small console set in the tree's trunk. Drawing closer, he beheld a curious sight.

Six colored oval stones – red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet – were laid out on a wooden base. Above them were six hollows carved into the base of the console, each with a tiny colored dot corresponding to one of the six stones in front of it. The back of the console was plain except for a curious design carved into it.

As Edgar was contemplating what to do, he noticed that there was some light brown fur scattered across the stones. He supposed it must have been caught between the panels and fallen on the console when he used the sprite's key. As he was brushing the fur off (and pocketing some of it), there was a low crackling noise, and words appeared below the design on the back wall of the console. Edgar tried to make out the words, but it was much too dark. Not only that, but when he tried picking up the red stone and placing it in its appropriate hollow, nothing happened. What was wrong?

As Edgar slowly straightened himself, his head brushed against something – the tree's low branch. He glanced back at the console, then at the branch again. He tried pushing the branch aside, which allowed a small ray of sunlight to touch the console. Instantly, the red stone began glowing brightly, and several lines of red light appeared in the design on the back of the console:

Edgar let the branch snap back to its original position. The sunlight striking the console was now blocked. At once, the red stone went dull and the red lines vanished. Sunlight. That was the key. Edgar couldn't figure out how to permanently keep the branch from blocking it, but after a few moments of contemplation and a little touch of magic, the branch bent upwards and stayed that way.

Now the console was bathed in light. Edgar approached it again and read the words below the symbol:

Confuse me not
With what coats you all over
For that which was mentioned
Does not feed on clover

How odd. It had to be a riddle of some sort, but how was Edgar supposed to answer it? He doubted that this tree could hear him speak the answer. He sighed and removed the red stone from its hollow, then absently picked up another stone and placed it in its corresponding hole:

It was a different collection of lines than the red stone had created, but it was still just as enigmatic. He experimented with the other stones as well, but their patterns didn't enlighten him either:

As he began experimenting with various combinations of stones, his attention began wandering back to the riddle…

"Confuse me not with what coats you all over"…

Confuse you with what? Skin? Hair?

"For that which was mentioned does not feed on clover"…

Clover…what eats clover? Let's see…Deer…goats…rabbits…

Wait a minute! Rabbits! Hares – hare! That was the answer to the riddle! Hare!

But how in the world was he going to convey this answer to the tree?

As he was playing with the stones, he suddenly noticed a pattern formed by the lines cast by the orange and yellow stones…two oblong shapes. They looked a little like…

Rabbit's ears? No, hare's ears!

Edgar frantically began trying new stones, looking for what would complete the abstract image of a hare's head. The red stone turned out to be the final piece of the puzzle.

The answer to the riddle glowed with a brilliant white light for a moment, and then the riddle itself vanished, only to be replaced by another one:

Of letters I am few,
Of sounds I am one
And in rhyme I may sound
Like a jibe or a pun

It was even vaguer than its predecessor. Edgar decided to try working in reverse, trying to form a shape out of the answer components that fit the riddle instead of working out the answer first. When he had formed something reminiscent of an acorn out of the red and violet stones, the answer came to him, clear as day. An acorn was the seed of an oak – which rhymed with "joke", which would fit the "jibe or a pun" description.

When he completed the image of the oak seed with the green stone, it glowed brightly as the second riddle vanished, only to be replaced by a third:

Too much and I kill
Too little, just the same
But all must consume me
Whatever their name

As difficult as it was at first, Edgar had to smile as he remembered that he had been attempting to gain access to this riddle's answer barely an hour previous. Water.

After Edgar had formed the image of turbulent water on the wall of the console, it, like the last two answers, shone brightly, and the third riddle vanished. A low rumbling suddenly began, and Edgar stepped back in alarm as the slit that the console intersected began to widen. Like the inset, this slit also turned out to be a pair of sliding panels, except these were much larger. The console slid to the side, apparently attached to the right panel. The panels slid farther and farther apart, revealing a narrow passage that led right into the heart of the tree. Gradually, the rumbling subsided. Not knowing what he would find inside this ancient plant, Edgar quietly ventured inside it.

The passage led not only deep into the tree, but right out its other side as well, between two of its gargantuan roots. Edgar was now standing in a vast meadow, surrounded by thick trees on every side. It would have been another beautiful field if it were not for the enormous gaping hole in its center. It was big enough to drop a good-sized house into, and from where Edgar stood, its bottom couldn't be seen.

Oddly, the perimeter of the hole was encrusted with brilliant dark red, magenta and indigo crystals. Several crystals of the same color were poking up through the surrounding grass, and they sparkled almost blindingly in the light of the sun.

If this was where the knowledgeable entity that the sprite spoke of lived, Edgar wasn't sure whether he really wanted to talk to her now. Still, curiosity eventually triumphed over reluctance, and the prince nervously approached the gaping void. The only thing he had to worry about was someone running up and pushing him in from behind – or so he thought.

The hole turned out to be the entrance to a naturally formed vertical tunnel, which, judging by the glimmering dots of light winking at him from the depths of the shaft, was lined with millions of crystals. If someone desperate and resourceful enough could somehow make his way down the tunnel with a few mining tools, he could dig out enough gems to make himself richer than a king, Edgar mused.

Suddenly, something large, white and iridescent appeared out of the thick darkness near the bottom of the tunnel, the light reflecting off it and illuminating the sides of the crystalline walls. It was moving upwards at an alarming pace, and Edgar had barely enough time to stagger backwards as it shot out of the gem-encrusted hole like an arrow. It sped towards the clouds, almost outshining the sun with its radiance. Edgar struggled to remain standing as he tried to make out what this strange entity was. Whatever it was, it was enormous, had a long neck, webbed wings, a long, muscular tail, and it was carrying out some truly astounding aerial stunts, apparently quite oblivious to its one-person audience.

As Edgar was still staring unsteadily at this strange vision, it suddenly swooped down in his direction, apparently aiming for a spot some distance behind him. In his struggle to keep the winged thing in his sight, Edgar leaned backwards even more, teetered precariously for a moment and unsuccessfully tried to regain his balance. Fortunately, the grass of the Bountiful Woods was just as thick and soft as it appeared, as was the soil beneath it.

Shortly after Edgar hit the ground, there was a loud thud and a short, heavy tremor that pounded at his eardrums and rattled his teeth. He hadn't seen whatever had created either disturbance, despite being flat on his back.

"I'm sorry, my friend," said a loud, yet gentle voice, "I was only going out for my daily flight. Did I frighten you?"

"No, no," Edgar muttered, shakily rising to his feet, his back to the voice's owner. "You just knocked a few nerves loose and – Yikes!"

This last word was the result of his turning around to behold an enormous dragon – but not a conventional one with green or red scales. The hide on this dragon appeared to be made entirely out of crystals, glittering exquisitely in the sun as the creature moved. The webbing between its wings was a delicate purple, reminiscent of amethyst, and its eyes resembled two dark spheres of obsidian.

As beautiful as it was, it was still a dragon, and Edgar reacted in the usual way most individuals react when confronted with one. The only reason he didn't run away at top speed was that the dragon didn't seem to be gathering breath for a fiery exhalation.

"Are you sure I didn't frighten you?" the dragon asked, sounding genuinely sympathetic.

"Yes," Edgar replied, calming down when it became apparent the dragon didn't want to roast him alive. "Wait a minute, I know you…You must be the being that sprite told me about…and…and I think I've actually heard of you before…"

"Many mortals have, though few have seen me," the dragon purred. "But I hurt no one, for I have no reason to. Why have you sought me out, though?"

Edgar did remember this dragon…he remembered her description, anyway. Rosella's account of her adventures in Vulcanix, the home of the trolls of Eldritch, included a dragon that had made her home in the abandoned diamond mines.

The princess had described the dragon's lair in great detail, including a description of how when the dragon left her lair, she flew up through a long, vertical, crystal-lined tunnel that led to the world above. Rosella admitted that she had never discovered the tunnel's entrance in her travels, but it looked as though Edgar would no longer have to wonder about its location…provided he could find this remote region of the woods again.

Edgar moved a couple of steps closer to the crystal dragon. She wasn't as large as Rosella's description of her had made her out to be, but Edgar felt she could certainly be intimidating if she so chose. There was an odd coolness radiating from her body, reminiscent of the damp of a cave. Even her breath carried the faintest whiff of cave moss. Is that what this dragon ate? Edgar could have sworn all dragons were carnivorous. Still…would a crystal dragon have to eat to stay alive?

All these questions vanished from his head as he suddenly realized that the dragon had just asked him a question and was patiently awaiting an answer.

"I'm looking for a wizard," Edgar explained. "A wizard named Shadrack."

"Hmm…" the dragon rumbled.

"I was told you might know something about him, but I've never heard of him, except from my…well, the person who's on this search with me…"

"Well, we dragons are well known for usually knowing much more than most beings, but this Shadrack must be a secretive man, for I have never heard of him."

Edgar's shoulders slumped, and he looked down at his feet in disappointment.

"But don't worry, my friend, for one's secret can never be hidden from all. I advise that you travel to another land and search there. If nothing turns up, then seek advice for the next land to go to. You should eventually find at least a trail of this person you are looking for…and it shouldn't be too difficult to do for you, with that ornament of power you are wearing."

Edgar's head snapped back up.

"What?" he asked, quite taken aback. "You mean…"

The dragon raised a glittering, multifaceted claw and gestured towards Edgar's chest.

"Yes, I can tell that you have the means of traveling to other lands by the means of magic. I am a magical creature too, am I not? It's no great feat to tell if another is magic or is carrying something magical."

"You are wise, my…my lady," Edgar said. "But tell me: what land do you think I should travel to next?"

"I was pondering that myself. But I think that the best place for you to go would be…"

The dragon's elegant face suddenly contorted itself into an ugly grimace, and she began squirming slightly, as if she was in discomfort.

"Oh, drat it again!" she snarled, starting to claw at her left shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Edgar asked.

"Oh, I must have rubbed against a tiny stone in my cave the wrong way," the dragon groaned. "Whatever it is, it's wedged itself under one of my scales, and you don't know how aggravating that is for a dragon!"

"You're right…do you want me to pry it loose?"

The huge reptile squirmed and scratched even more.

"Of course I do!" she said with a grunt. "The sooner the better! It's under one of my shoulder scales…"

Edgar examined the plate-sized scales of the dragon's left shoulder, and noticed one that seemed to be sticking up slightly. He drew closer to the crystal dragon and delicately felt the skin beneath the awkward scale, shivering as he touched the cool texture of her armor. His fingers found something wedged beneath the scale, which he managed to pull free without much effort, the scale returning to its normal state among its brothers.

"Oh, thank you so much," the dragon sighed. "I thought I would never get that out. What was that thing, anyway?"

Edgar had been closely examining the thing in question, and he had to admit that he couldn't tell what it was. It didn't look like a normal gemstone to him. It was barely two inches long and cylindrical in shape, but squat, and with a very slight bend to it, as if it were part of a large circle. It was white, with a faint design painted on it, and there was a round, purple gemstone set in one of its sides. An amethyst, Edgar thought.

"Well," said the dragon, "Whatever it is, keep it. I don't want to see that aggravating rock around here again."

Edgar thanked her and pocketed the odd trinket, hardly knowing what he would do with such an impractical item.

"You were going to tell me where I should go?" he asked, trying to revive the conversation that the trinket had interrupted.

"Oh yes. Well, the place I had in mind isn't in this realm. It's in the world of Daventry. It is called Llewdor."

The name rang a faint bell, but Edgar couldn't remember where he had heard the name before.

"Why do you want me to go there?"

"There is a wise man there. His knowledge of his world and the one you're standing in now is vast. He may be able to tell you about this Shadrack…and who knows? Perhaps he will have some other means of assisting you."

"That's great," Edgar said. "Except…"

"What?"

"I don't know what the land looks like," Edgar said with a shrug. "This pendant I'm wearing only takes me to lands that I can visualize, and I've never been to Llewdor."

"That can be easily fixed," the dragon said gently. "I know what Llewdor is like. I've been there."

"You have?"

"Yes, on my way to confront a terribly uncouth distant relation of mine, distant in that he has three times the usual number of heads for most beings, but that's not important. I will tell you about Llewdor. That should give you a clear enough picture of what it looks like."

"All right." Edgar replied. If this dragon's technique worked, it would mean that his attempt to describe the Underworld to Cassima had worked…he hoped.

"I'll whisper it to you, if you don't mind," the dragon said, moving her great head closer to Edgar, who instinctively stepped back.

"Don't worry," the dragon reassured him. "I won't bite you. Or eat you."

Edgar tentatively leaned closer to the dragon's mouth. The smell of moss and cave damp on her breath was overpowering. Still, he managed to get a clear picture of the land of Llewdor based on the dragon's description of the small, green land with one central mountain from which a small waterfall cascaded, forming a river that fed into the sea. A single pier stretched out into the sea, with a small town built on the coast, and to the west, a vast desert stretched out as far as the eye could see…

"Thank you," Edgar told the dragon, as his pendant began to glow brightly and his body began fading from view. "And good-bye…"

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