Fableweaver (the Narrator)
The sun rose over the camp, and a bugle blared out to announce the start of the day. A fine dew made the forest around them damp, and the smell of old smoke drifted out from the remains of last night's campfire. At each cabin, people opened doors and walked outside to stretch and look around. More than a few moaned complaints about waking up so early, but within an hour everyone had gotten ready for the day and attented roll call. Then there was a camp breakfast of eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, sausage, and toast, all cooked up by some of the camp couselors on a number of large cast-iron grills.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
The camp began the long hike out to the archery range. It was meant to be far enough away so that an arrow shot from anywhere at the range would have no chance of hitting anywhere else in the camp. In truth, it was much further than this, as it had to be placed somewhat down the mountain, where there was a clearing flat enough to make a good target range. The hike itself was several miles, like many of the different activity areas. It was a way to get people to exercise without argument.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
The six friends continued talking for the remainder of the hike. The trail was smooth, for a hiking path in the middle of a forest in the mountains. Still, it only took a little over a half hour to reach the archery range. Aaron and an assistant counselor took roll call, then began handing out bows to begin instructing the students on all the parts of the bow and the upcoming safety lesson.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
Mitch and Corbin enacted their plans. Their friends were reminded to cover for them, and provided a distraction as the two disappeared into the woods. Corbin lead them at fairly quick pace, at first. To put some distance between them and anyone who might spot them. After a few miles, the two friends reached a fog-shrouded canyon. The bottom was filled with boulders, like a river made of rocks. Likely laid down tens of thousands of years ago, during the massive glacier flows of the ice age.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
The two friends talked as they continued down the canyon. It would eventually lead to a paved highway, which they could walk to the Trader's Post.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
As Mitch and Corbin continued down the caynon, they came to a paved highway, which they followed until they reached the old Trader's Post. It was more of a modern gas station and convenience store dressed up to look something like an old-fashioned trading post up in the mountains.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
The two entered the Trader's Post and looked around. The place had a quaint feel that almost made Mitch forget he was up in the mountains, supposedly far away from modern life. There was an assortment of goods of every kind on the shelves. There was the typical convenience store junk food, soda pop, jerky, beer, and tobacco. A small turn-style stand held a selection of paperback novels, next to a rack of magazines that were mostly out-of-date. There was a particularly large part of the store devoted to fishing and camping gear. On one of the shelves, there stood an out-of-place Hello Kitty stuffed animal.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
The old mountain trader helped Corbin fill two backpacks full of junk food and other convenience store goodies for him to sell at the camp. There were plenty of kids who missed their cheetos and pepsi cola who were willing to pay top dollar for a secret stash, especially in a place where such junk food wasn't allowed. Mitch dialed up an old friend, the same Black Magic Woman who'd taught him about tarot cards, ouija boards, and pagan rituals.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
Mitch began to repeat everything that happened, about moving to Texas, about not fitting into his new school, about the teachers back in Colorado convincing his parents that Cleo was hypnotizing him into a cult. She seemed amused about that last part. As Mitch explained, Cleo consulted her deck of tarot cards, flirting with the paranormal in an attempt to wrestle from it the clues that might solve this mystery.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
The two boys began their journey back, this time with backpacks full of things to sell and a fistfull of knowledge that might keep the little nightmares away. They were quickly back up the highway, and into the caynon with the river of glacier-strewn stones. Near the top, Corbin looked down a connecting canyon, an alternate way towards the paved highway. After a moment of pondering this alternate path, Corbin brought up something he'd been keeping to himself. Not for secrecy, but the importance of it had not occurred to him until Mitch had mentioned something about paranormal lights.

Fableweaver (the Narrator)
They began their trek down the second canyon. All about them were strange, twisted trees that seemed at odds with the pine and spruce forests they'd been traveling through. Mitch and Corbin felt a strange, primeval urge stir through their bodies. There was something primitive and savage about the woods, something that overcame the milenia of instinct that had built up in the human species. This was sacred land, holy to the Fair Folk who'd come before Mankind. Mitch stared into the forest, wondering what sort of ancient mysteries might lay within.