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GATES TO THE VAULT( DAY 24, LETTER G)



                         CHAPTER 23

                 GATES TO THE VAULT 

Three days of trudging, trekking and aching muscles later, the cozy, sunlit, honeyed woods of Bramble Shire were miles behind them. 

At the edge of the deep, fog covered forest, a wispy figure appeared before them –The Guardian Maiden, Blaire barricading their way. "What do you seek in Mistwood Shadow Glade?" Her voice was the soft breeze that twirled around them. Ethereal! 

Hopper stepped forward gingerly. "The Locke Jewel. The last shard to piece together the Starwood Crystal. Where’s it hidden?" Blaire pursed her lips. "I’ll trade, as you know. Tell me your deepest secret. One you’d kill to hide."

Chipper tensed. Hopper hesitated. There was a lot at stake, when she prodded, “The Pigs are closing in. Time is of the essence here, Rabbit ! If you don’t choose, you lose."

Papa Koala warned, "Hopper, don’t…" Hopper interrupted him with a raised paw, "I’ll do it. I’ve got a secret… 

"I'm not Hopper..." There were audible gasps from everyone around. Except Papa Koala. Goldwynn turned to look at him. His eyes were downcast and shoulders sagged in defeat. He knew ...??

Blaire’s eyes flickered. "Interesting... You are very brave, Rabbit! That required a lot of courage and sacrifice. The Locke Jewel’s indeed in Mistwood Shadow Glade. But it's extremely important that you get to it at the right moment. The pigs are approaching sooner than you think. You must outsmart them and solve the cipher and then with the shards... 

Goldwynn! You have been chosen for a  purpose and a reason. Make your great grandma Goldilocks proud today. It's the destined moment....

Remember! 

Cipher is….

with…

you…

Your cup brimmeth over! Be quick, valiant heroes!" 

With every ounce poured into it, her voice struggled to be audible. It ceased and faded into the hush as she vanished into a curling wisp. 

The message was delivered... but at what cost?

The path leading into the Glade was cleared for their entry. Everyone bolted inside. Chipper growled, "And who are you, you con rabbit?" 

Hopper’s jaw was clenched. "Guess we’ll find out soon. Till then hold on to your patience.The Locke Jewel is waiting…”

****

Mistwood Shadow Glade had its own weather. Icy blue spurted in chilly swirls from the roots up.  

Goldwynn took the lead wrapping her cloak tighter around her. Papa Koala’s scroll was knotted to her belt. “No fires after dusk,” he had warned, though it was only morning. “No shouting. No dying. Rules are easy. It’s the exceptions that get you.”  

Without brightness along the path, Goldwynn relied solely on her pendant now clutched in the palm of her hand. It didn’t burn cold anymore. It whirred. Steady, insistent, northeast but through thistle that brushed at their ankles and knees.

A bramble as thick as Goldwynn’s arm reared up, thorns like fishhooks. Dapper didn’t slow down. He raised the Flintstone to the vine. The bramble trembled, then parted, remembering when it had only been a hedge around a kind garden. It didn’t attack. It mourned. It saluted the Knights Army.

The Thornwaste deadwood didn’t fight them. It bowed. The branches hailed them. Thorny vines unhooked from their cloaks and withdrew. The forest could smell the doomsday of the Mighty Boar on the wind. The Knights who were prophesied to liberate them from the centuries old curse were here! 

Bramblecut Brook was low and serene since time itself couldn't remember. They stepped on flat river stones that hadn’t been dry in eras. Goldwynn checked the scroll. 

“Where roots remember the sky…” 

“Not far,” she said. Her voice was louder than she wanted it to be. 

“Don’t,” Chipper hissed. “No shouting. Rule one.”  

Rule two was coming. No fires after dusk. The sun bled out behind the trees and hovered surreptitiously peeking through the curtains of leaves.

*****

By midday on the third day, they reached the heart of the Glade. In a compact clearing stood a single bare tree with seven branches. Goldwynn checked the scroll. “Not this one. It's a Red Herring. Let's get moving.”

The trees changed. Beech and Larches gave way to Blackwood, then to nothing with known names. The air tasted stale. Past a heath of nightshade and wolfsbane, the ground dropped, lichen glowed faint blue lacerations on every trunk. 

The path ended. Not in a crossroad or against a cliff, but in an orchard. The boughs swung back. The gray had paled to ivory.

They came to a sudden halt as Goldwynn signalled them to stop. 

The needle had become still. It ticked. A quiet assurance that marked time.

Hopper with the milk cup in both paws hobbled along, eyes wide. The cup was quiet. That worried him more than if it had been spinning galaxies. 

But his marbles had been busy. He’d held the clear one with the red swirl at every step along the way. It always sparkled to indicate there was no danger ahead. It pulsed with an urgency now.

“Smell that?” Chipper whispered.  

Apples. Faint. Sweet and rosy. 

The Marble pulsed a deep Cherry red.

The Compass continued ticking with a staccato in rhythm with the pulsing marble.

And there it was. Unmistakable in its perfect location on a knoll.

An Apple Tree !

 *****

It was wider than their cottage, older than the map. Its bark was mahogany black, but split with veins of gold that pulsed. Under it, ember sap oozed and gnarled roots were arches woven outside the ground.  

Its branches didn’t reach up. They reached out groaning with a hundred red apples glowing as embers among leaves that were green above and silver on the underside.

No wind touched it. But the apples moved. Turning. Watching. Beckoning.

Goldwynn’s locket yanked hard enough to stagger her. The cup now chimed like a Tibetan singing bowl. 

At the base of the trunk, six hollows were carved into the bark. Shaped like a pendant, a marble, a Flintstone, a cup, an acorn. 

The sixth hollow gaped at them. Apple-shaped.

"We’re at the vault. The tree is the vault! ” she said staring up into the branches. 

As if struck by lightning, a beam of enlightenment shone through Goldwynn. The Crystal Apple was only a clue. Not a shard! The actual shard was on this tree! 

But which one? A hundred red choices.  Only one right answer.  

A sweet gust of wind glided into the Bramble Shire Woods and in the  Meadow Brook Cottage where the Crystal Apple had placidly stood sentinel on a table in the library sighed in relief as the red glow inside it fizzled out 

The Apple Tree in the Glade heard it. And waited. Any moment now....

*****

To Be Continued...

Image Courtesy:Pinterest 

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z Challenge 2026.

https://www.theblogchatter.com/blogrolls/gates-to-the-vault-day-24-letter-g


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