By Holly Mein

I crept through the darkness. It was midnight and I was going into the woods for a cure for my mother’s illness. I brushed my long blonde hair out of my eyes. Biting my lip, I continued on my dark, dark journey. My mother had fallen ill a week ago, and she had gotten worse and worse. My father had ordered me to go into the woods and look for Mr Putton, a herbalist. He lived in a tree, which I knew was oak and old with a bright red door.

My little sister Zoe hadn’t wanted me to go.

“The woods are scary!” she had exclaimed. “Can’t I go instead of you?” But my father had refused, saying Zoe was far too young and she would be just as useful at home looking after Mother. Zoe had thrown a minor tantrum, but she calmed down enough to allow Father to teach her how to knit. When I left her, she was half-way through the quilt she was making for Mother.

I had been out in the woods for three days, and I was running out of food and water. I suddenly heard a CRUNCH! I had to dive out of the way of the tree falling toward me. I heard a voice, which was not even bothering to be quiet.

“Another one down. Five more to go.” it said. It was a gruff voice, a man’s. Leaves rustled nearby. I spotted a small bush nearby. Without a moment’s hesitation, I dived into the bush, just in time. Three burly men burst out of the darkness. Not daring to breathe, I looked out through a hole in the bush. I fumbled through my bag of provisions for my phone. When my fingers closed around it, I yanked it out, then immediately dropped it. It made a loud noise as it hit the ground.

“Hey, what’s that?” one of the men asked. I took immediate action. Picking up my phone and grabbing my bag, I ran. I ran and ran through the cold night, not looking back.

But I felt myself slowly being drained of all my energy, and the last thing I remember was a flash of red before darkness enveloped me and I passed out.

When I woke up, I was in a small room, with a rather short man looking up at me. When I asked him what he was doing, he replied

“Making sure you are alright, of course.”

“Where am I?” I asked. He smiled.

“Why, you’re in Mr Putton’s tree house.” he said. This is what I was looking for!

“Mr Putton, I’ve come to see you. I seek a cure for my mother, who is very ill. My father said I should come here.” I said. Mr Putton said a small “Ah” and nodded.

“Tell me your name, girl.” he said. “I cannot do anything for girls who do not tell me their names.”

“Daisy Treelight.” I said.

“Daughter of Theo Treelight?” Mr Putton asked. “My old friend?”

I had no idea that Mr Putton was a friend of my father’s, but I said

“Yes, Theo is my father’s name.” I said. Mr Putton looked surprised and slightly sad.

“And dear Florence has fallen ill?” he asked. When I nodded, he said “Well, we must get her something at once. What illness does she have, child?”

“She keeps complaining she is cold, no matter how many blankets we put on her. She has not vomited, or had to get a tissue for a runny nose. She just lies in bed, looking very ill, not saying a word except for ‘Cold.’” I said. Mr Putton looked worried.

“It looks like your dear mother has caught the icicles.” he said. “A hotroot should help her, but icicles are very dangerous. She will not die from icicles if you continue keeping her at a decent temperature, but she may never get better, and even if she does, there is no guarantee it will ever completely go away. She may never feel warm again.” Mr Putton went over to his many shelves, and grabbed a oddly shaped root, almost flame-shaped. He placed it in my hand, and I immediately felt the warmth seep through my fingers. It was pleasantly warm, and I was very grateful for it’s warmth, for I had not felt anything this warm for several days. Mr Putton watched me with interest.

“How long were you out in the woods, child?” he asked me.

“Four days.” I replied, my fingers curling around the hotroot so I could get the warmth into the tips of them.

“You must’ve been cold, because someone who has even a trace of warmth in their fingers would’ve dropped the hotroot by now.” Mr Putton said. I asked him how to use it, and he told me to crush it with a mortar and pestle, then stir it into a cup of water. As much as I was enjoying being in Mr Putton’s tree, I knew I had to go. I told Mr Putton, and he waved farewell, and handed me my bag. I slung it over my shoulder, and began my journey home.

“Daisy! You’re back!” said Zoe joyfully. She pulled me into a big hug, and Father joined us.

“Did you find something for your mother?” he asked. I showed him the hotroot, which was beginning to wither from lack of warmth. He took it from my hand, then dropped it.

“Ow! Hot!” he exclaimed. I picked the root up off the ground, and took it to Mother.

“Cold.” Mother said upon seeing me approach.

“I have something that will make you better, Mother.” I said. I went into the kitchen to get the mortar and pestle, then crushed the hotroot into a fine powder, then got a glass of water, and added the hotroot powder into the water, then stirred it through. Then I went back to Mother, and told her to open her mouth. She obeyed, and I poured the hotroot water into her mouth. Mother swallowed, and with a cough she slowly began to rise out of bed. The colour began to come back to her cheeks. She smiled.

“Well done Daisy.” she said. Then she gave me a big hug.

I was so happy. Zoe ran into the room shouting with joy. I looked out the window. I liked what I saw.

The stars shone, and the sky danced.

Holly Mein

Balmacewen Intermediate School

Dunedin.