The cook arrived with a large tray carrying each of the girl’s orders. He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was about to be an enormous bar fight, or as Mena guessed, this was an everyday occurrence for him. “So, I’ve got the Eye of Newt Spiced Latte,”—the cook began, and Mena smiled. “Ooh that’s mine. Very happy they’re always a season for it, even in other worlds.”

The cook continued, “a bowl of milk?” Everyone looked to Ashlan who shrugged her shoulders. “What? I’m part kitty.”

The two men loomed ever closer, hoping to score their bounty. “I’ve also got spare ribs…” the cook said, nervously eyeing the two men as they stood so close their weapons reflected in the white candle light.

“Thanks,” Janus said with a wink. “A skeleton can never have enough spare ribs. You know in case the current ones fall out.”

“And lastly, I…” the cook said, but Chad Abber quickly grabbed the tray. With the grin of a teaser, he decked the men with it. His loose limbs helped him vault over the bar table and run towards the kitchen. “Follow me, ladies,” he said. “Into the kitchen.”

Mena and her friends looked confused for a second before they followed suit, all leaping over the table The cook watched with an astounded expression. “What a stud,” Janus said, fanning herself. “He makes my blood run cold…not that I have any.”

Running past a host of confused chefs and bus boys who labored over ovens and sinks, Chad Abber weaved in-and-out with surprisingly agility for a corpse. Mena and her friends had to pick up the slack, but she accidentally caught herself on a waiter carrying two plates out to the dining room. Knocking him over, he spilled the plates of mashed potatoes and gravy all over the floor. The two thugs ran in, and slipped, crashing headfirst into a sink.

“Sorry for the extra mess,” Aslan said with a mischievous smile. “Might want to rinse that lower-class scum down the drain.” The horrified dishwasher looked on, as the four made their way out the backdoor and into the woods.

All four pumped their legs extra hard to get back to Jill and Chad’s abode. They crunched loudly through the fallen leaves, hopping over logs and dodging stones. Mena was so focused on her destination; she didn’t realize who was in front of her. “Oof,” she said, colliding headfirst with Lumber Jill.

Jill, now wearing white-and-black plaid and a grey beanie, fell backwards with Mena flat on top of her. Lumber Jill laid on the ground with a glazed expression in her eyes. “Oh my galoshes. I’m sorry,” Mena cried out, before Jill came to.

“What for, braceface?” Lumber Jill said with a wry look in her eye. “Nothing like a good she-tackle to wake you up in the morning.”

Mena, nearly hysterical, stopped whimpering. “So, you’re not going to kill me for that?”

“Huh?” Jill responded, “Of course not, but, so you know, I’m the master of breaking out of these holds with my own invented Lumber Jack Martial Arts. I call this one, the Role Reversal.”

Before Mena could blink, Lumber Jill slipped out from beneath Mena with a loud “HGHH,” and before the young witch knew it, she was pinned to the ground with her back bent in an awkward position. “Owwie zowie,” Mena sobbed. “My lower lumbar’s been jacked.”

Chad put his rotting hand on his knee and crouched over. “Get off, Mena,” he accosted his sister, while rubbing his chin. “Jill, if she wanted to experience that kind of action, they could lock her up in a lady’s penitentiary.”

“Chad, you’re such a cad!” his sister snapped, turning red as a beet, as Mena slinked away. “They should call you ‘Cad Abber.”

There was a forlorn looking in Chad Abber’s drooping face. “Unfortunately, that would be a more appropriate name at this point.”

Lumber Jill stood up and helped Mena to her feet. “Anyway, I’m about to head down to the castle and finish the castle gazebo. Why you all running away so fast?”

“That blasted pig,” Ashlan exclaimed, throwing her hands forward. “He cast a warrant for all our arrests! Does he even know who I am? I’m royalty, with a rolled R.”

Jill walked over and placed a hand on Ashlan’s shoulder. “, I know all about that rapscallion pigmalian. And trust me, he’s nowhere as fun as that tongue twister.”

“What’s a pigmalian?” Mena asked, curiosity dilating her pupils.

Lumber Jill whipped out her axe, and brandished it angrily, causing every person in her vicinity to duck. “Only the most vile, disgusting creature from this world over. Half man, half pig. If they weren’t on the endangered species list, I’d chop em up and there’d be bacon for the whole village.”

“Why does she hate them so much?” Mena asked, whispering to Chad.

Chad put his maggot covered lips close to Mena’s left ear, causing her to shiver. “She’s constantly getting ratted out by that Pigchard, who reports all her slacking to the king. He hopes it will help him climb in the ranks to the king’s favorite. He’s hopeless though, the king despises pigmalians more than anyone, even Jill.”

Passion burned in Jill’s eyes as she clenched her fist. “And I oughta be the one ratting him out. I’ve seen him making off with all kinds of strange herbs and plants from the castle gardens…”

“Mm,” Ashlan said, softly biting her lip with her fangs. “Stealing plants? What kind of plants?”

Lumber Jill crossed her arms, holding her right hand up to scratch her chin. “I distinctly remember him stealing some Flandrake…uh…some Stunkweed and….Magilillies.”

A catlike gleam reflected in Ashlan’s eyes. “All that Herbology really paid off. I know exactly what all of those do.”

“Do you?” everyone asked, almost at the same time.

Like she was a textbook on herbology, Ashlan rattled off academically and proudly. “The Flandrake root, is often used in delicious flan, but also an extremely potent healing root. Stunkweed is a plant so vile, it’s said to wake the dead when boiled and Magilillies, are a flower often used to honor great female magicians who have passed on.”

“Ah yes,” Janus said, “Seems it’s a good thing we brought lion snout here after all. Those first two are used in unsuccessful rituals to bring the dead back to life. ”

“He wants to wake the dead?” Mena asked looking back and forth between Ashlan and Janus, “Miserable magicaps! We gotta stop him.”

Lumber Jill nodded and smiled. “He usually goes back to his cottage in the glade after work. You can follow him there”—a frown crossed her face—"But I think it’s gotten dark around there lately. So thick, only he seems to be able to get through it.”

“How are we going to get there then?” Mena asked, curiously.

“You’d have to follow him through the deep darkness,” Lumber Jill said, “Fortunately for you, I’ve got the perfect disguises, he’ll never catch on to.”

Everyone looked at Lumber Jill as she swung her axe over her shoulder, a wide grin was on her face. “He’ll never be able to see the forest for the trees.”

***

“Ugh…” a tree complained in a raspy but girly voice. With two holes drilled in it, two emerald eyes watched from inside the trunk. “This trunk is so heavy.”

“Quit complaining, lion breath,” another tree responded with a flighty, but sardonic tone. “Perhaps if you got some of that junk out of your truck, it wouldn’t be so heavy.”

“Excuse me, reaper creeper,” the first tree shot back. “I don’t have junk in my trunk. We all can’t be as thin and bony as a skeleton.”

“Come on guys,” a third tree responded with a bit more optimism. “Lumber Jill was nice enough to make us these tree disguises, we should be happy.”

A fourth tree gave a zombie groan. “I’ll only be happy when I can get my real skin back. So, let’s keep quiet and watch for the swine.”

They heard the pitter patter of hoofs, and all four trees snapped to attention. “Snoik, another day, another day falling out of the master’s favor. At least he did not see the final ingredients missing from his garden.”

Pigchard let out a sigh. “This has gone on long enough. It is finally time.”

Mena swallowed hard. Whatever the swine was plotting, it sounded very dastardly. Perhaps he was going to unleash a cataclysm of zombies on the world. And these ones wouldn’t be as mild mannered as Chad.

As soon as Pigchard turned his back, the trees all lifted their trunks and crept after him. The pig-man headed towards the thick wall of darkness. Pigchard whipped out a match and ignited a black lantern. The fire burned brightly, guiding the pig man further into a world that was completely dark. Wind wailed in the void, and a bone rattling chill froze everything around them. It was almost like they were crossing over through a world of life into a realm of death.

At last, a cluster of light shone within the jet-black void. Mena squinted her eyes. The grove had returned, but it was separated from the rest of the forest. A small wooden hovel stood at the far end of it, and next to it, was a single gravestone. Mena gave a double gulp. He really was going to wake the dead.

“Huh…snoik…” the pigmalian said, and he turned around. His beady eyes surveyed the tree where the gulping had come from.

Oh nosies, Mena though as Pigchard approached her, I really mucked this one up.

He moved closer and closer, his black eyes narrowed tightly. He sniffed and snorted around the tree. He was so close; Mena’s blood nearly froze. Pigchard reached out towards her and held his bipedal hoof to the tree. Mena waited to be exposed, but instead, all she heard was a knock.

“Snoik, knock on wood that this works out,” Pigchard said to himself.

He then scurried towards the house with his spoils, slamming the door behind it. “We really dodged a fireball on that one,” Mena said in relief.

“Who do those graves belong to?” Janus asked, and Mena couldn’t wait any longer. She had to figure out who Pigchard was going to bring back.

She lifted her tree trunk and briskly waddled over to the graves. Her heart was racing. Who was it? She craned her head so she could peer out properly and gasped. Imprinted on the gravestone was a name she never would have expected to read in that location.

“Beloved Daughter of Pigchard the III and Molly McGill: Maggie McGill.”

“The Ghost Writer,” Mena gasped, and there was a loud swine shriek from behind her. She turned around and Pigchard was standing there with a bubbling cauldron.

“What are you doing in my hovel…snoik?”