Old Dahl was a Woodcutter, and he had spent half his life working with trees.
He had a son who would one day follow in his footsteps and become a proud Woodcutter.
That was no exaggeration. Strange Tales City was surrounded by Swan Lake, so anyone leaving had to take a boat or walk more than ten miles around it. The townspeople did not burn wood for warmth, but they still needed it to cook. A pound of firewood cost half as much again here as it did outside.
But wherever there was profit to be made, merchants gathered like Fly around carrion.
Firewood kept getting more expensive, but the Woodcutters saw none of that money. It all went into the merchants' pockets.
The other Woodcutters grumbled, but Old Dahl was content—he had a happy family.
The two Small Boats had left the shore behind. The people aboard could no longer see it, and though they had stopped rowing, the Small Boats kept drifting forward, as if some force were drawing them into the depths of the lake.
Mist spread across the silent water. It seemed there were only two Small Boats left in the world... or four.
Two more Small Boats emerged from the depths of the mist, laden with treasure chests, heaps of gold coins, and glittering gemstones. They approached Old Dahl and Pumi.
Old Dahl shouted to Pumi that it was all fake, but Pumi was no longer listening. He stepped onto the gunwale and lunged toward the treasure boat as though moving in slow motion.
The treasure boat suddenly seemed to become one living whole. A mouth split open among the piles of treasure and caught Pumi as he jumped straight into it. It gave a satisfied gulp.
But all of that had vanished because of