Imagine a boundless palette upon which musings can soar, where young minds turn toadstools into tables for mice or mossy banks into condos for moles. Enter a world where faeries dance over sparkling streams, their wings shimmering, while malevolent beasts of legend peer out from the dark, craggy caves in some forgotten valley. In the tradition of Redwall, Wind in the Willows, and Mistmantle Chronicles, with a little splash of Lord of the Rings-style adventure, comes Stella and the Golden Crystal. Stella is a small gray squirrel, a reluctant heroine who must embark on a quest to recover the missing Crystal D'Or, a mystical gem of great power stolen away by the goblins who dwell in the high mountain caves in the distant Valley of No Trees, a place no young squirrel would dare go alone. The goblins are bent on discovering a way to turn the faerie magic of the Crystal D'Or to ill. A clumsy rabbit, a pair of fellow orphan squirrels, a beaver, an ermine, and a marmot make up some of the unlikely allies who join Stella in her attempt to save the Woodland Realm.

Stella and the Golden Crystal

By Karina Wetherbee

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Karina Wetherbee
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4670-6085-1

Chapter One

An Ordinary Squirrel

The forest was dark, though the sounds of dawn's approach stirred throughout the valley. Stella busied herself with her task, feverishly burrowing her small claws through the bed of fragrant pine needles, seeking an overlooked kernel. The sweet heart of the pine cone was her favorite meal, but of late, she had had little time to spare for the necessary search. Her duties as an apprentice to the Queen filled her waking moments, and only in these early hours could she garner a brief reprieve. But, in her mind, it was well worth the shorter night of sleep.

Stella was a squirrel, the small ordinary gray kind, though Stella was smaller than most. Yet, in spite of her size, she knew she was anything but ordinary. Besides having a fiery nature that belied her diminutive stature, she had a knack for seeking out adventure ... and a gift for staying out of harm's way.

But, there is such a thing as tempting fate ...

The Magic Forest was a dangerous place for a solitary young squirrel, but the allure of the cool shadows of dawn was too much to resist. Stella relished any chance to escape the rigors of her studies, craving all opportunities to find gaiety and freedom in her highly controlled and serious world.

Her nurse, Maya, had once said, "You're from a long line of gypsies, m'dear. Never forget that. Therein lies a great gift, a gift of courage in the face of adversity, no matter the span of your tail. One day, you will understand."

Stella, being an optimistic youngster, paid little mind to her nurse's prophetic tirades. There was too much fun to be had in the rare hours between her assigned duties. Still, Maya made it impossible to forget much, like the need to be back to the safety of the castle inside the old tree before the sun rose above Lookout Rock.

A shadow had been growing over the Woodland Realm for years, though its origins were vague and steeped in foggy legends. Only those trained in the complex histories of the forest, or better still, those favored with the Sight, knew from whence this nameless threat came. The Queen, Ariana, was one of the gifted ones. She was old and wise, and though her once beautiful fur had faded somewhat, the power of her presence could not be denied. She came from a distinguished line of royal squirrels, each of whom had been endowed with the great mythical gifts of the forest.

The ability to influence other beings through the control of thought alone was enough to tempt many to strive to learn the skill of Sight. The world pulsed with an energy, a river of power that flowed beneath, through, and around all existence. With carefully perfected skill, one could alter realities and influence beings, honest and otherwise, all of whom rode the tide of life's force. True, the talent needed tending and training for the subtle nuances to be honed to a useful art, but few realized, or refused to accept, that the gift was bestowed by mere chances of heredity, not strenuous book-learning. Some believed that to possess the gift of Sight was to hold the fate of the Woodland Realm in one's grasp. Thus, Ariana's role as Queen was an enviable position.

Stella knew that her life, and the lives of those of the Queen's other young charges, were tied somehow to the Ones who had come before her, but her memories only hinted at a distant knowledge, long buried beneath a mantle of a childhood cloaked in mystery. Her training with the Queen was an attempt to reforge that link to the past that had been squelched on the horrible day when her beloved parents had met their tragic fates.

Stella was an orphan, one of dozens of youngsters who had been rescued and brought to the safety of the old Palace Tree on the night the Mighty Wind had ripped a destructive path through the Magic Forest. Stella had been just a juvenile, though an image of her parents' faces stirred in her dreams when her mind was at rest. A vague recollection of an unusually nomadic lifestyle lurked at the corners of Stella's mind. Her parents had kept company with an odd assortment of creatures, each of whom had been seemingly content to travel along the very fringes of woodland society. All the members of the small band of gypsies had been well-versed in the ways of the forest. Rumors had even surfaced that some among them smelled heavily of the Sight, though the gypsies rarely lingered in one place long enough to warrant a second glance. They stayed out of trouble, and kept to themselves, but they were said to have an uncanny knowledge of the healing powers of the woodland's abundance of plants and herbs.

Forest dwellers were often in need of a restorative cure, and thus found themselves, secretly, of course, searching out the gypsies for small linen packages of medicines and unguents. But, associating with the unproven talents of the elusive members of the small troupe of healers was frowned upon, so the gypsies were simply tolerated, and were soon forgotten ... but not by Stella. She relished the flashes of unexpected memories that surfaced occasionally, and searched among their gossamer fragments for a clue to her connection to the great circle of life in the forest.

Meanwhile, she had to content herself with the fact that her laborious studies would one day serve as a means of repayment to her beloved guardian, the Queen Ariana. Knowledge was the key, Ariana insisted, knowledge of the ways of the Woodland Realm. The ancient scrolls of Saone held much knowledge of the past and of the great riving of the beings of the Magic Forest.

There had been a devastating battle, a battle that threatened to end all the ages. The powers of good had triumphed, but at a tremendous price. The vanquished, a sect of revengeful sprites, had slithered away into the bowels of the mountains, taking with them the greatest treasure of the Woodland Realm, the great Crystal D'Or. These fantastical creatures, small but brutally cunning goblins, had vowed to return, once the secret binding the powers of the Crystal was broken, and those immense powers could be turned against the inhabitants of the Realm, including the descendants of its maker, the great woodland enchantress, Saone.

Some said the legendary storm that had taken so many lives, including those of Stella's own parents, had been the first hint of what was to come if the resourceful goblins discovered the true depths of the Crystal's secret. The Mighty Wind had upended the roots of massive trees, centuries old, leaving their noble and ancient limbs strewn throughout the forest like discarded kindling. This had been a taste of the horrors that would be unleashed if the magic of the Crystal became fully functional while in the possession of the goblins and their equally malevolent allies, who had spirited it away so many years before.

As the temperature rose slightly with the first hints of the sun, Stella thought little of this perilous mystery that had hovered over the region for so many years; she only worried whether the sentries would still be snoring in their small gatehouse beneath the old tree. Crunching one last kernel between her teeth, she lifted her nose to the air, and sniffed. A tingle of crisp spring air pinched at her nostrils and her eyes began to water. Rubbing her nose between her paws, she emerged from the deep night shadows and turned toward home.

There was stirring in the brush beside her, and a deep voice muttered, "The reckless lass is out again, I...