The Lost Key

• Jack Graham, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2020

Whoosh! Heeelp! It happened so fast. One minute Liam was walking on the dusty road with his father’s precious key in his pocket and the next he was falling down a bottomless hole. His jacket caught on a pointy rock jutting from the wall. Looking down he saw only inky blackness.
“If you ever get out of there we’ll be long gone” bellowed a gruff voice from above. “And thanks for that key, you coward.”
Hearing mocking laughter Liam groaned, “They’ll go to the forest and raid Dad’s secret potion lair”.
Getting out of the treacherous pit wasn’t easy, every time he looked down his stomach turned over. When he succeeded, Liam sped into the busy town, weaving around carts and people before running up the rocky track leading to his father’s hut.
“Dad! Dad!! Yelled Liam. Finding his father sitting in a comfy chair, he told him what had happened. Tom opened his mouth to speak but instead of getting angry like Liam thought, said in his croaky voice, “Son, I’m too old to travel. You’ll have to go alone,” he paused to cough, “It will be a challenge, but I believe in you son”. Standing up slowly Tom walked to a cupboard and turning the handle oddly revealed an armoury. Tom grabbed a variety of weapons before closing the entrance to the secret room. He handed them to Liam who then found himself saddled on a horse waving goodbye, thinking of the journey ahead.
Liam rode through freezing nights and hot days. Every so often stopping to rest, feed and quench his thirst and that of his grateful horse. The third day Liam sighted some tall oak trees in the distance. Urging his tired horse on he came to a beautiful forest with a stream that was clear and cool as any good drinking water. Dropping to his knees, Liam gratefully slurped down the sparkling water. Hearing voices nearby Liam turned to see a group of burly men crowded around a fire. Liam’s hand flew to his sword in its sheath. With a shout Liam leaped from his hiding place and struck a man on the shoulder. His comrades jumped up with mighty roars.
“It’s the potion maker’s son!”
“I thought you got rid of him?”
“Get him!!”
With his sword and shield Liam stabbed and blocked attacks. One down, two, and another and another. Seeing only six dead men at his feet Liam knew there was a seventh. Sighting him Liam grabbed his bow, loaded an arrow and fired. Swoosh! Hearing a cry of pain, Liam ran over to where he heard the noise. Liam searched the dead man’s pockets till he found what he was looking for, the little gold key.
Liam travelled home through scorching days and freezing nights, only stopping to rest when his horse was utterly exhausted. Finally he reached the familiar hut and returned the key to his father telling him of his adventure till there was no more left to tell.