Chapter 1 #5
She'd been dropped into this world by an AI. She'd grown a house from a pecan. She had trees that made bread and milk and teacups. Monsters had tried to eat her. The magic was real—she could feel it humming in her chest every time she grew something.
But a talking squirrel?
"You're real," she said slowly. Not a question. A statement. Testing the words.
"Indeed I am, madam." The squirrel gave a small, polite bow. "My sincerest apologies for my tardiness. We only just received word that you were in residence. My name is Walter Walnut, and I shall be your squirrel—assuming I suit, of course."
"My... squirrel?"
"Your squirrel, yes." Walter picked up his carpet bag with both paws. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just put my things away and be right down."
Before she could respond, he scurried up the trunk of the pecan treehouse and disappeared into the upper branches.
Wren stood there, staring at the spot where he'd vanished.
"I have a squirrel now," she said to the empty air. "I have a butler squirrel. Named Walter Walnut."
She waited for the panic to set in, for her mind to reject this as too absurd to be real.
It didn't come.
Instead, she felt something else. Something almost like... relief?
She wasn't alone anymore.
A rustling above, then Walter reappeared, scampering back down the trunk with practiced ease. He brushed off his vest and looked up at her expectantly.
"Now then, madam. What can I do for you first? Perhaps you would like some nuts cracked?" He looked hopeful. "Or if you prefer, I could tell you about the neighborhood."
"Neighborhood?" The word came out higher than she intended. "There's a neighborhood? All I see are blank walls with monsters."
"Ah! Yes, the shield walls. Quite opaque when first established." Walter nodded knowingly. "If you tell them to clarify, you'll be able to see beyond your property. Then you can observe the town, perhaps arrange for trade?"
A town. There was a town.
"And the monsters?" she asked. "How did you get here without being eaten?"
"Oh, I'm far too small to interest most monsters, madam. At least the big ones." Walter's tail flicked dismissively. "The truly large creatures can't be bothered with something my size. Not worth the energy expenditure, you see."
"And the small ones?"
"I used the road, of course. Well—" He paused, whiskers twitching. "The squirrel road. We have our own network of paths through the trees. Quite well-maintained, if I do say so. The messenger squirrels use them regularly, so they're kept clear and safe."
"Messenger squirrels?" Wren felt like she was playing catch-up in a conversation that had started without her.
"Indeed! We have quite an efficient postal service.
Messages, small parcels, that sort of thing.
The town couldn't function without us, really.
" There was distinct pride in his voice.
"Of course, the main road is protected as well—shield enchantments along the length of it, so monsters rarely bother travelers.
There are incidents every few years, mind you, but overall the Marshall keeps things quite safe. "
"The Marshall?"
"Town Marshall, yes. Handles security, monster management, that sort of thing." Walter smoothed his whiskers. "Now then, about your shield walls. Would you like me to show you how to clarify them? It's quite simple, really."
Wren nodded mutely and followed him to the nearest section of the shimmering barrier.
"Just place your hand here," Walter instructed, "and tell it clearly."
She pressed her palm against the yellow shimmer. It felt warm, slightly tingly. "Clarify."
The opacity faded like fog burning off in sunlight.
Beyond her property, she could see properly now. A thick forest pressed close on one side—dark, dense, imposing. And in the distance, past the trees, she caught a glimpse of buildings. Rooftops. A town, just like Walter said.
"There we are!" Walter said brightly. "Much better, yes?"
She stared at the forest. It was so close. And now she could see movement in the shadows between the trees. Things shifting. Watching.
Her stomach tightened.
"The trees grow very quickly here," Walter continued, oblivious to her sudden tension.
"Quite useful for construction, but it does hide a great many monsters and dangerous animals.
It's very important to stick to the road when you venture out, madam.
Unless, of course, you're searching for power herbs. "
He glanced at the shield wall, and his cheerful expression faltered slightly. "Speaking of which... your shield is showing some concerning weakness," Walter said, his small face grave. "You see that red line there? That crack isn't fading like the others. That's... not ideal."
Wren's stomach dropped. She'd noticed it earlier but had been too busy surviving to think about it properly. "What does that mean?"
"It means you'll need blue bulbs soon. Probably within the next day or two, I'd estimate.
" Walter tilted his head, examining the damage.
"Blue bulbs are the power source for the shield, you see.
You simply place them into the pillars at the gate—" He gestured with one paw toward the gate she'd run through last night. "—and it powers the shield back up."
"Where do I get blue bulbs?"
"Outside the gate, of course. In the grassy plains." Walter said it as though it were obvious. "They grow quite commonly out there. The difficulty, you understand, is in the harvesting."
"The monsters."
"Precisely." Walter's tail flicked nervously. "They're drawn to movement in the grass. Most people buy their bulbs from professional harvesters—safer that way. But they're very expensive. The danger, you see. No one wants to be eaten."
"And if the shield goes down?"
Walter met her eyes. "You'll almost certainly be eaten, madam. I'm sorry to be blunt, but there it is."
Wren looked out at the grass beyond the gate. It looked peaceful enough in the morning light. Tall, swaying gently. But she remembered the monster from last night. The way it had slammed against the barrier. The look in its milky eyes.
"How long do I have?"
"Before it becomes critical? Two days, perhaps three.
It will give you time to settle in, at least." Walter's voice was kind, but firm.
"The good news is that monsters are almost always asleep between eleven o'clock and two o'clock in the afternoon.
It's reasonably safe during that window.
Not perfectly safe, mind you, but... reasonably so. "
Reasonably safe. She'd have to risk her life for glowing bulbs in a field full of monsters, during a three-hour window, or pay a fortune she didn't have.
"Right," she said faintly. "That's just... great."
She looked down at Walter. "I don't suppose you'd—"
"Miss, I'm a squirrel." His tone was apologetic but unapologetic.
"I'm a coward by nature and not ashamed to admit it.
I will happily crack your nuts, organize your pantry, and provide excellent conversation.
But venturing into monster-infested grasslands?
" He shook his head firmly. "That is well beyond my duties. "
Despite everything, she almost smiled. At least he was honest. "Right," Wren said. "Worth asking."
She reached for her purse, sorting through the seeds with that now—familiar touch. Maybe, just maybe—
Bluebell. Bluebonnet. Morning glory. Forget-me-not.
No blue bulb. Nothing that felt like a power source or shield magic.
She sighed. Of course not. That would be too easy.
"No luck?" Walter asked, watching her.
"No blue bulb seeds." She closed the purse. "Guess I'll be going out there tomorrow."
The thought sat heavy in her stomach. But worrying about it now wouldn't help. She had today. She'd use it.
"Well then," Walter said briskly, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "What else can I help with? Those pecans won't crack themselves, you know. And you have quite a lovely collection of unusual plants. I'd be happy to help organize your stores."
Wren looked around at her small grove of pun trees. At her treehouse and the soapberries and sponge flowers she was still holding. She stashed them in her bottomless purse for later.
She had work to do. A bath to take. More planning, more growing, more figuring out how to survive in this impossible place.
The shield problem loomed, but it wasn't immediate. Not yet.
"Actually," she said, "I could use some help cracking pecans. And maybe you could tell me more about the town while we work?"
"Excellent!" Walter brightened immediately.
Walter gathered pecans and dropped them in the bottomless purse as she followed him around, holding it open to catch the nuts.
When she felt they had enough, she waved him down and collected another pot of tea to take the chill off.
He scurried inside using a squirrel sized door (had that been there?) and Wren followed, closing the door behind them.
The treehouse was properly warm now, cozy even. The oven glowed steadily. Her bed of blankets looked inviting.
“Tea?” she asked him, raising the pot in inquiry.
“I’d be delighted,” he said. “It would be a crime to pass up your magic tea.”
She set the soap and sponges on the counter, next to her gourd bowls and teacups, and emptied the pecans onto the burl wood island for Walter. The pile was too big for her little bowls, so while he got to work, she tried to grow bigger ones.
“Fascinating,” Walter said, watching her grow a set of large nested bowls while he worked.
“Would you say intent has a lot to do with the finished product?” Walter selected a pecan and brought it to his mouth, cracking it efficiently with his teeth.
The shell split cleanly and he worked the meat out with his tiny paws, dropping it into the bowl.
His small hands worked quickly, extracting the meat and dropping it into the bowl, discarding the shells in a neat pile.