Hazel Acorn's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The tunnel narrowed, and Hazel held her glowing cap higher. The silver trail on her map pointed straight ahead. But the way was blocked. A line of leaf-cutter ants marched across the tunnel, each one hauling a green leaf twice its size. They moved shoulder to shoulder, nose to tail, an endless living wall. Hazel pressed forward and shoved. The ant did not budge. She bounced off it and landed on her tail. "I am Hazel Acorn," she announced, climbing up. "Make way for a great adventurer." The ants ignored her. She drew her thorn sword and poked the nearest one. It clamped its jaws shut with a snap that made her jump back. Hazel was too small to break the line and too proud to turn around. She studied the ants. Each one carried a leaf. Each leaf was far bigger than the ant beneath it. An idea landed. If she could not go through them, she would go with them. Nearby grew a patch of soft green leaves. Hazel cut one free and dragged it over her head like a roof. She crept to the trail and slipped into a gap in the line. The ants did not stop. They did not look. She was just another worker hauling a leaf home. Hazel marched with them, hidden under her green shield, her heart hammering. The trail curved and dipped. Then the ants turned down a side passage, and Hazel's map pointed the other way. She tossed off her leaf and ducked out of the line. Ahead, warm light spilled from a wide chamber. She hurried toward it, glad to be past the ants at last. The light came from an acorn-shaped cart parked in the middle of the chamber. Its shutters hung open. Jars and bundles crowded its little shelves. Beside it sat a tall oak chest, bound in iron, its handle worn smooth. A figure leaned on the counter, half in shadow, watching her come. "Lost, little one?" the merchant said. "Everyone who comes this deep is lost, or looking for something they shouldn't." The voice was dry and amused. "I sell both maps and silence. Which do you need?" Hazel stopped. She gripped her sword, then let her paw drop. She was tired, she was deep underground, and this was the first face she had seen in the dark. "I need the way to the ruined burrow," she said. "I'm after a blade that belongs to my family." The merchant's eyes flicked to the iron-bound chest, then back to her. A slow smile. "The ruined burrow. Yes. I can point you there." The merchant tapped the chest's worn handle. "But everything down here has a price, Hazel Acorn. And I wonder what a mouse your size could possibly pay." Hazel had cleared the ants. Now she faced a harder gate, and this one wanted paying.