Goldfield Forest (Unmistakably Mystical Book One)

Chapter One

January 1783

A student of the ancient Andean civilization, August Alexander, worked in Peru, and spent much of his time wandering the territory near the Amazon River. August never imagined an afternoon in the jungle could start a chain of events that would affect the supernatural world two and a half centuries later.

Dense and filled with hazards, the Amazon jungle remained traveled by few, many of whom never made it back from their expedition. August usually traveled alone, and he never entered the rainforest without a compass, a tin cup, and a knife.

One afternoon, during a solo expedition, he heard what sounded like a child crying nearby. In the area surrounding him, a youngster could easily get lost, and he homed in on the direction of the cries.

Moving cautiously through the gnarled vines, he stepped through a marshy area and onto rockier terrain. When he reached a small stream, he inhaled sharply and clasped his hands behind his neck. Blinking rapidly, August slid his hands from his neck. Slowly bending forward, he placed his palms on his thighs.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is August. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

Staring up at him, wide-eyed and suddenly silent, a tiny human-like creature stood still, as if frozen in place. Although covered by vegetation from her chest to the ground, August estimated the little person’s height at about eight inches.

Still several feet away, August squatted and asked, “What’s wrong? Can I help?”

Sniffling and clinging to a small vine, the little one cocked her head. She leaned backward but didn’t run away. “I’m Elabella,” she replied. “Not many can see elves, and even fewer can hear us.”

“Hello, Elabella. Your crying brought me to you, and I see you as plain as I see my hand.”

After rubbing her fingers across her tear-stained cheeks, she pushed a wisp of long blond hair behind her ear and said, “I’m stuck in the mud. I tried to get out, but I’m slipping in deeper.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve landed in a patch of quicksand. Let’s see if I can get you unstuck,” August replied, as if finding an elf stuck in the rainforest didn’t come as a shock.

The ground surrounding him seemed solid, but a patch of mud wouldn’t need to be very deep mud to hold an elf captive. He reached his hand toward the little elf. “Grab onto my finger. I’ll pull the mud away from your legs with my other hand and lift you out.”

With only a slight hesitation, Elabella wrapped her arms around his thumb and hugged it tightly. She leaned against his forefinger, and he wrapped his fingers around her.

August had no trouble scooping the quicksand away from her body. He lifted her from the mud and sat her down on solid ground.

When her feet touched the ground, as radiant a smile as he’d ever seen lit her face. “Thank you. If you hadn’t rescued me, I could have been a snake’s dinner.” She looked at her feet, only one of which had a boot protecting it.

August reached back into the patch of quicksand and scooped out a handful of mud. He deposited it on the ground beside them, then pulled out another handful and did it again. When he smeared the wet sticky dirt against the ground, he felt a small, soft lump, plucked it from the mud and held it toward Elabella.

With a grin, he asked, “Did you lose this?”

Then, pulling his tin cup from his ever-present backpack, he asked, “Would you like a little shower?”

Clutching her boot, Elabella giggled. She pulled off the boot she still wore, and holding both in front of her, said, “Yes, please!”

August dipped his cup into the nearby stream, then carefully poured the water, rinsing the mud from the elf’s body and cleaning her tiny yet intricately woven leather boots.

“Can you find your way home from here?” He asked as she pulled her boots on.

“Oh, yes. I wasn’t lost, just stuck.”

“It has been nice meeting you, Elabella,” August said. “I hope to see you again someday.”

When the elf tilted her head to the side, a ray of light slipped through the canopy of trees and her pale blue eyes sparkled. “You’re a guardian,” she told him. “But you didn’t know, did you?”

August’s forehead furrowed, and his lips formed a pout. “A guardian?”

“Guardians can speak with the fae,” she explained. “They’re descendants of past protectors who lived among us. Charged with the responsibility of watching over all creatures, a guardian’s instinct to protect the fae is as natural as the breath they take.”

Although Elabella was the first elf he’d ever seen, August thought about his connection with animals. Since childhood, dogs and cats had always come to him and never feared him. Horses responded to his commands, often before he said them. Birds didn’t fly away when he walked beneath their branches.

He slowly shook his head and murmured, “I had no idea.”

When she opened her arms, a soft glow surrounded her, then a tiny cloud floated up and brushed August’s cheek, like a soft kiss.

“You are one of us now, August Alexander,” she murmured. “But you must never speak of it.”

August blinked, and Elabella disappeared.

Chapter 2

May 2023

With dirt on her chin and up to her elbows, Ashley dashed into the kitchen. A trail of dust followed the thump of her footsteps as she hollered, “Grandpa, look! Look what I found! I think it’s a horse!” She held up a three by six-inch dirt encrusted rock for his examination.

Ross grinned at his ten-year-old granddaughter, pleased to see her so happy. “Finding buried treasure is getting to be a common occurrence, huh?”

“Yep,” Ashley replied with a smile that accented her full cheeks and crinkled the edges of her eyes. “You never know what you’re going to find if you look for just a few more minutes.”

“Now, where did you hear something like that?”

Giggling, she replied, “From an old treasure hunter!”

“Who are you calling old?” He teased, with an artificially angry scowl.

“Well, if the shoe fits …”

Chuckling, Ross rubbed his chin and stared at the mud and clay covered rock. “Let’s clean it up and see what you’ve got.”

Packed with hard clay, her find could have been a meticulously carved creature or simply a rock that, with imagination, appeared to be an animal.

“Where did you discover this beauty?”

“By the lake,” she said, “near the old granddaddy tree. I was looking for blackberries and saw a sparkle in the dirt. When I brushed at the dirt where it glittered, I saw the round edge of the rock shining like it had been polished. So, I used a branch to dig it out of the ground but kept it from scraping the artifact like Mom showed me.”

“An artifact, is it?” he chuckled.

“Yep,” she grinned.

“At your age, your mama didn’t leave the house without a serving spoon for a digger and a toothbrush to clean away the dirt. She found more treasures than I could count.”

From the time she could walk, Ashley’s mother had a knack for discovering lost items. That ability was the incentive for her career as an archaeologist. Besides finding lost things, however, Maria could see, hear and communicate with just about any living being, a talent she found as natural as breathing.

Ashley had shown all the signs of sensitivity to the supernatural. Although not yet as capable as her mother, over the past few months, her abilities seemed to have mushroomed.

Tilting her head to the side, Ashley raised her eyebrows and said, “A spoon would have been easier to dig with than that stick!”

“Your mom’s old spoon is probably still in the toolbox in the shed, and I’m sure I can find a toothbrush for you. In the meantime, shall we get this scrubbed and see what you’ve got?”

Ashley’s eyes opened wide in anticipation. “Yep! Maybe one of the little people dropped some fairy dust to show me where to dig, huh?”

“Could be,” he replied.

Ross filled a pan with warm water. “Put it in here to soak for a few minutes and loosen some of that dirt. You don’t want to scrub it too hard. Although I doubt it, the edges could be fragile.”

She carefully set the carving in the water. “You said to look near the trees and you were right. That silver button I found yesterday was next to a tree, too.”

“With two finds in two days, you’re going to be an expert treasure hunter in no time,” he chuckled. “Swish that water around. But be careful not to bang the rock against the sides of the pan.”

He reached under the sink and found a soft-bristled brush. “Use this to loosen the packed mud.”

He watched her carefully brush the dirt from the rock. “How is it coming along?”

With her forehead furrowed in concentration, she replied, “A lot of dirt is really packed on it, but it looks like it might be a dog.”

As the shape of the carving became apparent, Ross could not only see the shape of the animal but also a design that had been etched into the rock. If the clay had any sand in it, scrubbing too hard could damage the etching. “Do you mind if I help you clean it up?”

“Heck, no.” She offered him the brush.

As Ross scrubbed away what he imagined being one hundred and fifty years of dirt, he realized Ashley had found something exquisite. Not a horse or a dog, but a lion.

As the dirt turned the water black, the lion’s face became visible and Ashley gushed, “It’s a lion! Look, you can see his mane. Isn’t he beautiful?”

“He sure is,” Ross agreed. “That is quite a design across his back. We need to get the rest of the clay out from around his eyes to be sure, but it looks like they are inlaid.”

He emptied the sink, then filled it again and held the carving under water while Ashley rolled her thumbs across the lion’s head to brush the last of the dirt away.

“You were right!” Ashley said when Ross lifted the lion from the sink. “Look at his eyes.”

The animal had been made from a six-inch square of marble, coal black on one end that faded to a golden-brown. An intricate design covered the lion’s back and ribs like the saddle of a horse. His face and mane had been carved from the black part of the stone, and his face seemed alive. Even thread sized slivers of rock had been chiseled away to form whiskers. Perfectly balanced, the statue stood on three legs with the fourth slightly lifted in a forward step.

But the cat’s eyes demanded attention. Inlaid with blue crystal, Ross suspected they’d been made from sapphires with a vertical slit of onyx for the pupils. Ashley traced the figure with her finger and laughed with excitement. Her laugh sat at the top of the list of Ross’s favorite things and he resisted the urge to hug her.

“You’ve made an incredible discovery. If my guess is correct, this carving is older than you or me or even my grandfather, and it is in perfect condition.”

Wide eyed, she said, “Wow! That’s cool!” Leaning forward, she asked, “Is it worth a lot of money?”

“It is worth what someone will pay,” he replied. “You might have found something worth thousands of dollars.”

“But I don’t have to sell it. I can keep it, right?”

“Of course. It is yours to keep or to sell. But if you sell it, I get the first chance to buy it. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“Until you decide, I’d suggest after we get it dried, you put it someplace safe.”

Ashley pushed her lips into an exaggerated pout. “I decided. I’m keeping him. Can I put him in the china cabinet with the dishes?”

Ross held his hands in front of him, palms up, and asked, “How did you know that is exactly what I was thinking?”

Ashley followed her grandfather into the dining room. Before she handed the carving to him, she said, “When I look at the lion’s eyes, it’s almost like he’s real.”

“Whoever created this animal put a lot of effort into it and did something extra special when he made those eyes,” Ross replied.

After a few seconds, she said, “I think it should sit on the top shelf, right in the middle.”

Ross nodded. “That is the perfect place.” When he took the carving from Ashley and put it on the shelf, a barely audible rumble sounded, almost like a soft roar.

Chapter 3

On January 5, 1783, August agreed to go with two colleagues, Oliver Washington and Cyrus Winston, for a small expedition into the Amazon jungle. Their goal of finding a civilization thought to be extinct would provide grant money for years of future research for all of them.

When the men reached the town of Macapa, they met their guide, Arlo Martinez. An anthropologist and experienced jungle traveler, Arlo agreed to lead the expedition.

“Welcome to Macapa,” Arlo greeted the explorers.

“Good to be here,” August replied, as he reached out to grasp Arlo’s hand. “I’m August Alexander. This is Cyrus Winston and Oliver Washington.” He pointed to the others as he introduced them, and each briefly clasped Arlo’s hand.

“August tells me your reputation as a sharpshooter is as well-known as your credentials as an anthropologist,” Cyrus said.

“Sharp with a bow and arrow,” Arlo replied. “Deadly with a rifle. We will have no lack of food on our journey.”

“I’ve packed a supply of hardtack,” Oliver said. “Just in case food gets scarce.”

“Food will be no problem,” Arlo assured him. “To begin our journey, we will share our river cruise with another party. Two days on the river, with plenty of fresh fish, then half a day to the blackwater, where we will begin our land expedition.”

“I expected to be on the river for four days, maybe five,” August said.

“The boat moves more quickly than the smaller rafts. Food is on board and a full crew eliminates the need for any delay. The first stop will be for our party to disembark,” Arlo explained.

“No wonder the passage fee is so high,” Oliver grumbled.

“But worth the cost of saving two or three days of travel,” Cyrus reminded him.

The men boarded the vessel and moved to the upper deck, all agreeing it would provide a better vantage point.

“This will give us an idea of what to expect later,” Cyrus said.

“You will see very little beyond the shoreline,” Arlo told him. “The vegetation is thick, and the rain makes it hard to see beyond the river’s edge.”

August looked from Arlo to the sky, then said, “It looks like a clear day.”

With a chuckle, Arlo replied, “Wait.”

A splash near the riverbank caught their attention in time to see the tail of an enormous black caiman flip into the water.

“He caught his dinner,” Arlo said. “It is the death roll. The croc gets a grip on the animal, then drags it into the water and rolls, drowning his catch. You are lucky to see one in daylight. They usually hunt at night.”

“I heard crocodiles are good eating,” Cyrus said, as he took a drink of water from his canteen.

“People are a good meal for the caiman,” Arlo replied. “They are much like crocodiles, but more aggressive. They will stay still and blend into the brush, then strike fast as a cobra and kill a man before he knows he’s been bitten. Even the jaguars avoid the black caiman.”

Cyrus and Oliver chuckled, but August knew Arlo’s warning was not a joke.