The Nisse, the Cat, and the Apple Tree Part 7

Behold a hall for of dead eyes.

Christian let his hand fall to the hilt of his sword, knowing the blade would do nothing against the owls circling above them. He had never battled an owl before, but his great-grandfather had killed an owl, and the battle lasted for a week straight. His great-grandfather had lost an eye in the fight along with his arm. It was an honor Christian didn’t want to top, but he watched them far above him.

                Persephone stopped at the gates of the large tree, waiting for someone to call out of them. Christian and she were sure a mouse would shout for them to say why they were here, but a massive black owl landed in front of them. Its long yellow eyes stared at them both with death linger on its talons.

                “What do you want?” The owl hissed.

                “We wish to speak to the Queen,” Persephone said smoothly as if she did not fear the owl in front of her.

                “For what reason?” He asked.

                “To help her win the war,” Persephone said with a sly grin.

                The owl looked between Christian and Persephone and then flew off into the night. A few moments later, the gates to the tree open, forcing Christian to jump down from the cat. The gate was big enough for the cat to crawl into the tree hall, and Christian had to duck a bit to make sure the tip of his hat wasn’t knocked off.

                The hall was cast in a deep amber with roots making up the walls. Along the walls were the faces of every fallen mouse in the army of the Queen. It was an honor to die in battle and have their likeness put in the Great Hall of the Fallen Warriors' roots. They made their way across the amber floor to stand in front of the throne made from a dragon tooth.

                There sitting on the throne was a large blonde mouse wearing a pale golden crown with flowers at each tip. She stared down at the two newcomers before growling,” How do you plan on winning me the war?”

                Christian didn’t say a word because he had no idea what the plan was for winning the war. He glanced over at Persephone, who was getting tired of being trapped in the hall. “By you giving us the Claw of Odin,” the cat said, making the Queen laugh.

                “Why would I do that?” Queen Diana asked.

                “Because you can have one of your owls’ follow of us back to King Artio,” Persephone said, “and then attack the Keep and win the war.”

                Christian was shocked at the idea, but it was an idea only a cat would think of, winning no matter. He glanced between the black cat to the mouse on the tooth, who wasn’t saying a word and thinking deeply.

                “How do I know I can trust you?” the Queen asked.

                “You don’t have to trust us,” Persephone said, “all you have to do is follow us.”

                “What if you warn King Artio?” Queen Diana asked.

                “Does it matter?” Persephone asked. “You’ll know where his Keep is and where to attack next. You could kill him quickly before he could do anything against you.”

                “Why take the Claw at all then?” Queen asked. “Why not tell me where the Keep is now?”

                “I like life, Queen Diana,” Persephone said. “If I tell you now, you could kill me, and if we leave the forest without giving King Artio the claw, we are dead. So, I will not tell you where his Keep is.”

                Queen Diana sat back on the throne, glaring at the cat. “I could have you killed now.”

                “Yes, you could,” Persephone agreed, “but it will not win you the war if you do.”

                The Queen placed her paw under her chin, thinking hard and long. “Very well,” Queen Diana said, “I like your plan, but I must ask one thing first …”

                “Go ahead.”

                “Is it true, Christian,” She asked, turning to face him, “you are on a quest to save a human child?”

                “Yes, my Queen,” he said with a nodded.

                She smiled wide and said with a sweetest that wasn’t in her tone before, “You are a good soul, Christian. I good soul indeed.”

                “Thank you, my Queen.” He bowed a little.

                “Wait here,” she said, standing up from the throne and disappeared through a door behind the tooth.

                “This is your plan?” Christian hissed at Persephone.

                “You have a better one?” Persephone asked, looking around at all the faces.

                “No, I guess not,” Christian said.

                “We are trying to save a little girl from death,” She said, “that is all that matters.”

                He crossed his arms. “I know, and I agree.”

                “Then my plan works well,” Persephone said with a wink at him, and he grunted. “Where are the guards? I don’t see any.”

                “It’s the faces,” Christian said. “They hold the souls of all the warriors of her army and will come back to defend the hall.”

                “Creepy.”

                “More than you know,” Christian said. He glanced over at the faces thinking he saw a few of them turn to face him, but none of the ghost eyes would dare land on Persephone. They seem to fear the black cat.

                Queen Diana came back out of another hidden door with a large golden box. She had to use both of her paws to carry the box until Christian rushed to help her. He took the box in his hands, feeling the power hidden within it.

                “Should we open to check to see if the claw is there?” Persephone asked.

                “No,” Queen Diana ordered.

                “I can feel the power in the box,” Christian said, “The claw is in it.”

                “Then let’s get going,” Persephone said.

                “I warn you,” Queen Diana said, eyeing Persephone, “you betrayed me, I’ll find you, beheaded you, and nothing, not even your love, will save you from my rage.”

                Persephone nodded at her and crawled back out of the hall, followed by Christian. “Your love?” He asked after the gates closed.

                “Somethings,” she said, “are best left unsaid.”

Author's Note

If you had made it this far, then I appreciate it, and before you start to tear my work apart (which doesn’t bother me too much), let me explain something. The most common critique I see is about my spelling and grammar. It is an understandable critique, and I do not blame you for pointing it out. After all, spelling and grammar are the tools in which we use to craft our work, like a paintbrush or a chisel. The artist must know how to use these tools well, but like an artist who has a tremble in their hand's somethings will never be perfect.
My tremble in my hand is caused by my dyslexia. It is something, no matter how much I learn, study, or works on, it will never go away. It is the reason you will find a good bit of spelling and grammar mistakes in my work. I ask you to keep this fact when you are about to write your critique.
Also, I feel the need to point this out, this website is like a journal for me. A messy journal I used to work out problems in my stories or to simply warm up before digging into my novels. I do not hire an editor for the work here. I do not spend hours and days pouring over these stories to make them perfect, that energy is saved for the project I plan on taking to market. Everything on this website is my world-building exercise or sketches for other projects.
I do hope you enjoy my work, but this website is not a publishing house for me, and it shouldn’t be for you either. Something to keep in mind as you write your critique.