The three boys spent about two hours moving under the massive olhom trees blanketing the sky. When they arrived at a stream amidst a clearing coming out of the mountains, they decided to rest. The stream didn’t foam and crash, but rolled gently over the rocks in smooth lumps. They were tired and hadn’t slept much at all. Milton weaved his magical ropes together to make layers of them, functioning both as soft mattresses and as covering, and it worked adequately for the night.

They woke in the early morning to someone’s voice. “What are you boys doing out here?” Their alarm disappeared at the sight of a harmless middle-aged man with his donkey. The donkey had baskets tied to its sides with freshly picked herbs leaning out of it. “You don’t look like folks from the farm.”

“We’re not,” Henry said, rubbing his neck and yawning. Milton groaned and stretched his back as Rennard got up and rubbed his eyes.

“Do you know the way to Humius?” Milton said. “I assume it’s south, but we’ve been waylaid.”

“Well, sure, it is south, but on your own legs it’s neither close nor easy.” He pulled out a metal plate from his pocket, the size of his palm and with a particular insignia in the middle. “This one is Baronness Crawford’s sigil, shows I’m a worker on her land. Helps protect me. If you’ve just wandered in here from Humius without anything like it, then it’ll be hard.”

“We know,” Rennard said. “But do you know any good routes other than ‘straight south’?”

“Apologies, son. I don’t know much about the lay of the land.”

“Aren’t you from here?” Milton said.

“I am, but what does ‘here’ mean? If it’s Crawford’s lands and establishments, then I know a decent share. But I don’t know much about Gintessa. It may be a beautiful land, but it’s too large and dangerous for us to explore on our own.”

“There’s no freedom for humans here,” Rennard said. He moved towards the stream. “Is this water clean?”

“Absolutely.”

Rennard cupped his hands and started drinking.

“Strange things going on as of late, humans disappearing in these areas, there were giant guards from Humius who spent the night in our farm then left.”

“Come again?” Henry said. “Giant guards came and left?”

“Yeah, came in search of something, I heard, but they left yesterday morning. Only spent the night.”

Rennard gave his friends an angry look. “Looks like the bitch was lying to us.”

The man raised a curious eyebrow, though decided not to question what they knew. “How did you end up all the way here from Humius? I passed little Adam a while ago, he’s running back to the farm with his gossip, wild talk of three youngsters sleeping out here. I figured you’d be slaves who were on the run.”

Milton stepped forward. “Hold on, we were seen before by someone? And he’s running back and telling everyone?”

“Is there a problem with that?” The worry exchanged between the three confirmed there was.

“Sun is rising over there, so it must be east,” Henry said. “South is that way, over the stream, let’s go.” The three slaked their thirst before jumping into the stream, and waded their way across, leaving the man puzzled. They jogged south and came under the olhom trees eventually.

“We should run with our magic,” Henry said. They all used what was known as base magic, the fundementals before the arts. Rennard’s colour was red, Henry’s was a bright gold, and Milton’s was white. Their legs shone with their respective colours, a firefly’s glow, and they sped up. The average of their superspeed still couldn’t compare to the giants’ legs and strides, but in explosive bursts of a few seconds, it could outmaneuver them in some instances.

What they needed now was to clear off the area, and they had to go far. The two hours they’d spent escaping the farm last night would be matched in minutes of a giant jogging. To think of it in numbers wouldn’t help in keeping a sense of hopelessness away, so all they focused their energy on was making sure every second put them further away.

They swished through the vegetation, large ferns and tall grass, hopping over the fat bulge of olhom roots and rocks and boulders. Sometimes an olhom or copse of smaller trees split them and they converged soon thereafter. What the youngsters failed to keep in mind was that they had no compass and ran wildly, and their momentary splits and regatherings caused an eastern tilt to creep into their southern direction. They neared a large projection from the mountain, like a narrow shoulder sticking out, and by another source of water they took a respite, catching their breath and drinking. They’d been running for forty minutes.

“Alright,” Milton said, gasping and airing his shirt. “What do we do? Rest and keep going?”

“Yes,” Rennard said, pointing to a prominenet point up in the escarpment. “I’ll try and get there to get a view. I think it’s slightly higher than the olhom trees. And the olholms are clearing a bit, maybe because we’re near the mountains.”

Henry pointed. “Take that route. It’s too steep here.” Confident in not getting too tired, Rennard jogged off, rounding the foothill to find a more welcome climb to the highpoint.

Milton sighed, sitting down. “I just want to be home.”

“Agreed. If we get back, we have to give Trester a wide berth. And when we cross the border, we have to be careful not to be seen by border guards. They’ll wonder why we’re walking into Humius from Gintessa, assume we belong here, or want us to prove we’re on an official errand. And even if we can talk our way out of it, it’ll be too much attention. They’ll have too many chances at uncovering us as the ones who pulled that nonsense against the guards.”

Milton grimaced, leaning back on his elbows. The grass was shorter by the mountains, the olhoms in these areas being part of a grove more than a forest, sparser and with less undergrowth. “I don’t care anymore, man. Rennard was probably right the first time, they’ll see us as young boys who tried to be funny. There’ll be some punishment, but it’s better than what we’ve been through so far.” They sat a few more minutes. Milton stretched and lay down fully. Henry took a distance from the mountainside to scan the face of it and see Rennard’s progress, but something else grabbed his attention.

Dimly, and only when all else was quiet and still, could the vibrations be felt in the ground. Though their strength only grew, becoming tremors, powerful steps announcing her presence. The dark-green gown, her yellow-brown hair tied into pigtails, green eyes, large frame and enormous breast. Ada’s upper body appeared above the foothill, walking towards them. She had a pant of her own from having run this way.

Milton rushed up and joined his friend. “She’s here.” She saw them, approaching. The two stood ready with magic at hand. Ada stopped a distance away.

Henry said the first word. “Either you’re very keen on helping us lie low, or I was right in suspecting something.” Her response was a blank expression. Henry leaned into Milton. “Listen, we’ve got to buy time for Rennard to return, then we can do this as three.”

Ada showed her recognizable smirk. She grabbed her gown, folding it up to reveal her womanhood, and a naked pair of legs were sticking out from her.

“Fuck, she already got him.”

Ada pushed him back in. She let out a long and slow breath, biting her lower lip. “Finally, the three of you out here where no one will come, no one will interrupt. You at my mercy. I had dreams of this.” She walked towards them, her feet flashing out from her gown with every step, both with a hunger to squish them.

“Get ready, Milton,” Henry said, getting in stance. “This is for our freedom.”