The Path Home

By Nathan Veyon

It was a curious shop. Wedged between a formal wear boutique and an espresso bar, its brick structure was weathered and chipped. Rusty chains held a wooden sign with a squiggly line running to a red X as the only clue to what one might find inside.

Well-dressed pedestrians hurried by, never sparing a glance. All except a tiny figure. Short black pigtails bobbed from side to side as the girl examined the odd building. Weaving through the legs of the unobservant, she made her way to the tall steps. She clambered up and grabbed the large door handle with both hands. Straining, she pulled until there was enough room to slip inside. The outside faded away—no traffic, no streetlights, no crowds. Faint beams of sunlight illuminated intricate, hand drawn maps hanging on racks, mounted in glass, unrolled on tables.

A shaggy head hunkered over the counter. At the sound of the door, the man looked up and squinted. “Who’s there?”

The girl stepped up to the softly glowing counter where an unfinished map lay on top. “Hi. I am.” She waved.

The man leaned forward and glowered. “You’re a little girl.”

“Yes, I am. And you’re a grouchy man.”

The man blinked. “Go away. I’m busy.”

“But I’m here about a map.” She pointed at the rack beside her.

“Aagh.” He swiped at her. “Don’t touch! Little people like chocolate. Do you have chocolate? Chocolate smudges. I don’t like chocolate.”

“I don’t have chocolate. I am chocolate.” She smiled brightly. “Dark and sweet.”

The man furrowed his brow. “Who are you?”

“I’m Charlie.” She walked deeper into the shop.

The furrow lines deepened. “You’re a girl.”

She laughed. “Of course, I am. Charlie is short for Charlina. I prefer Charlie. I’m looking for a treasure map.” She walked to another stand. “You have very pretty maps.”

The man jumped off his stool. He disappeared behind the counter and reappeared beside Charlie who was only a smidge shorter than him. He gestured dramatically at the store. “I am the best wilderkind mapmaker there is.”

Charlie cocked her head. “What’s wilderkind?”

“Doesn’t matter. What type of treasure do you seek?”

“Truth.”

The mapmaker’s arm fell to his side. “Truth? You want a treasure map to truth?”

“Yes.” Charlie gave a sad smile. “My mum, before she died, told me to always treasure truth. Well, my foster mum. She told me to look for truth in surprising places. And this seemed like a good place to start.” She grinned.

“I…” The mapmaker scratched his head. “Wait, who’s taking care of you?”

Charlie’s face fell. “My new foster parents. They don’t notice when I leave. They’re not like my mum. She was the one who told me I was dark and sweet just like chocolate.”

“Oh.” The mapmaker fussed with a display before marching to a dusky corner. He returned with a small piece of parchment. “This is a magic map. It will help you find what you’re looking for.”

Charlie examined the map. The colors were so vibrant they seemed to glow. Towers nearly leapt off the parchment, and the water shimmered as if it was actually flowing. “It’s beautiful, but I know magic isn’t real.”

“Keep telling yourself that and never mention I gave this to you.” The mapmaker walked behind the counter muttering, “If the Bureau finds out, I’m going to regret this. They’ll send one of those stupid dryads.”

The mapmaker grunted a few times followed by the sound of groaning wood. A few moments later, his head appeared over the counter again. “What are you still doing here? Shoo, I have work to do.”

Gley picked up a quill and a magnifying glass and applied a precise stroke. He barely noticed the door opening and closing.

He was making good progress. With no mistakes, he would be done by tomorrow.

He chuckled at the thought. Like he ever made mistakes. He dipped a fine-tipped brush in gold paint, wiped off the excess, and carefully moved the tip to the center.

“Excuse me sir.”

His hand jerked a hair’s breadth away from ruining a week of work.

Peering over the counter, his eyes slowly refocused. Charlie’s annoyed face came into view.

She jabbed the map at him. “Your fake magic map is broken. It had me tromp miles before leading me right back here.”

“Impossible!” He snatched the map. The lines wavered for a second, but then stilled into a circuitous but definite path back to his front door.

He nearly fell getting down from his stool, his legs half-asleep. After pulling out a map from a cupboard, he showed it to the girl. “What do you see?”

“Well it looks like our country, but you have glowy hole things everywhere.”

“You can see glowy hole things?” He stared intently at her.

Charlie leaned in. Noses almost touching she stared back. “You painted it, didn’t you? Why shouldn’t I see it?”

“Because humans can’t normally see where wilderkind portals are.” He quickly went on before she could comment. “Yes, that means you’re probably not human, just like me.”

She huffed. “What are you? A dwarf?”

“Gnome actually. You don’t know any better, so I won’t take it personally.”

Charlie raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Look, you grew up never knowing your parents. Let me make a call. We can figure this out.” He paused. “And you may not need to go back to that new foster family.”

Charlie grinned, her eyes bright. “Really?”

“Really. The Bureau can find you a family and help you adjust. Just wait here while I call.”

Charlie nodded.

Gley walked a few steps, then turned. “You can look at the maps.” He cleared his throat. “Just don’t touch them.”

Charlie clasped her hands behind her back. “I won’t.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nathan Veyon grew up reading Tolkien and Lewis. This developed into a lifelong love of science fiction and fantasy. He enjoys computers and science which he also currently teaches. In his spare time he also enjoys working on developing multiple worlds that are slowly being turned into actual books.

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