Good Ogre by Platte F. Clark Page A

cut you down myself,” Dwight threatened Dirk, shifting his axe from one shoulder to the next. But before Dirk could respond back, the ranks of squirrels began singing.
    He crossed paths with a squirrel
    Who told him what’s what,
    But Melvin was bested
    By a tiny walnut!
    Dirk broke into a grin and strummed his lute loudly, joining in:
    A tiny walnut! A tiny walnut!
    The elf had a lump
    From a tiny walnut!
    This continued for several more rounds, each chorus growing louder and more raucous. When it was finally over (to Melvin’s great relief), the lead squirrel approached Dirk and removed its helmet. “You have immortalized us in song,” the squirrel announced. “You have honored us, great minstrel.”
    Dirk nodded and leaned against the rock wall. “Yeah, it’s what I do.”
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Wayne asked, looking confused.
    â€œI honestly don’t know,” Sarah replied.
    â€œNow and forever,” the squirrel continued, “we shall gather and sing of the besting of Melvin the Frail.”
    â€œGreat,” Melvin sighed.
    The squirrel continued. “For this Melvin will represent all whom we defeat, and his song will be sung by our children and our children’s children. You may pass now, humans. And you shall sing this song wherever you go.”
    â€œDone and done,” Dirk agreed.
    â€œI don’t get it?” Sydney asked Puff, who was standing next to her.
    â€œYou can only win a battle once,” Puff answered. “But immortalize it in a song, and the battle is won a hundred times over.”
    â€œNeat,” she responded.
    â€œYeah, terrific,” Melvin said. “Can we get out of here now?”
    The sea of squirrels parted.
    â€œWhat happened to the humans?” Max asked as they prepared to leave. The squirrel knight motioned to the tower in the distance.
    â€œThey have been undone by the Malaspire.”
    â€œYou mean our school?” Melvin asked.
    â€œIt is the Malaspire now.”
    â€œI thought it was creepy when it was just called middle school,” Dirk added.
    Sarah, however, had other things on her mind. “What do you mean by ‘undone’?”
    The squirrel shrugged. “I do not know the words to describe it.”
    â€œDo you mean dead?” Megan asked, a lump catching in her throat as she got the words out.
    The squirrel shook its head. “No, not that. Not yet.”
    â€œCan we save them?” Sarah pressed.
    â€œI do not know,” the squirrel confessed. “We have our own affairs to see to. But if there are answers to your questions, you will find them in the Malaspire.”
    â€œCome on, then,” Dwight urged. “Let’s get going.”
    Puff came up to Sarah and rubbed against her leg. “Don’t give up hope,” he told her. “In all that I have read about the Cataclysm, there is time to reverse its effects.”
    Sarah reached down and absentmindedly patted Puff on the head. “Thanks.” Puff only recoiled a little at the unauthorized petting.
    The group made their way through the ranks of the squirrel army. They were followed by thousands of eyes largely hidden in the shadows of their tiny helmets. “They’re just so cute!” Sydney said. “Can I keep one?”
    â€œNot if your life depended on it,” Dwight answered. “And it probably does.”
    Dirk smiled as they passed the last of the rodent ranks. “Score one for the bard.”
    â€œFirst time anyone’s said that in an adventure,” Melvin muttered. “Ever.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
    MEET THE NEIGHBORS
    T HEY RESTED BENEATH THE MERMAID weather vane and the remains of Old Man Peterson’s house. At first it looked as if the place had survived the severe transformation of the Cataclysm, but as they drew near, they saw that the entire house had been sheared in half: The earth having dropped away to expose a sudden,