Jenny looked over to the cheerful little woman standing near her feet.
She sat up and pulled her blankets closer around her. The cave was snug and warm. She found her silver bowl and discovered Juicy-Squirts inside – probably her favorite cereal ever. It was berry flavored with a burst of liquid sweetness in every crunch. The crystal bottle was filled with something like hot chocolate – again with a fruity hint. The Wishermans ate plates full of quivering purple balls called scrumble-berries. They smelled delicious, but not so delicious that she wanted to be trapped in Frey for the rest of her life and never see her family again.
“Scrumble-berries be why the Wishermans have such beauteous lavender fluff!” boasted Papy.
“Wi’out scrumble-berries our wee ones won’t be makin’ the pretty color the queen wants afore long,” worried Mamy. “It’ll be the color o’ whatever they be eatin’!”
After breakfast was cleaned up, Mamy pulled out a bag of clothing. “If ya’re to be troopin’ ‘bout the country side, ya can’t be lookin’ like a human girl. Ya’d be cage-snapped in no time and sold to the Queen.”
“Why would she want me?”
“‘Cuz ya be human!” Papy exclaimed. “Y’are a val’ble comod’ty around here.”
“It’s fer yer blood.” whispered Mamy. “But, I’ll have ya made up so fine that no one will know ya from a swamp-witch.”
“Blood?” repeated Jenny.
“Yes, dearie. Jes’ too terr’ble ta talk about.” Mamy wouldn’t say another word about it. She pulled out a bowl of pigment and soon Jenny’s face and hands were a muted lavender. Soon, she also had a hump on her back (to store her pirate hat, magic bowl, and bottle.) Mamy fashioned a course woven cloak out of a patchwork blanket with deep hood to complete the disguise.
Jenny was still processing the news that the Blue Queen would want her blood as Papy and Mamy stepped out their front door with backpacks. She crawled out the door after them and stood up. It was nice to be able to stand up straight again. That was when she noticed the sad looks on their faces.
Jenny realized. “You’re not coming back here.”
“Nope.” Papy sighed. “Once we get our babies back, we can’t never come here ag’in as they’ll be lookin’ here first.”
“Maybe we’ll be headin’ east towards Whisp terr’tory,” mused Papy.
“We don’t know where we’ll be endin’ up,” said Mamy, sort of determined. “But, so long as our family be together, it don’t make much never mind. We’ll make a happy place somewhere even if it be down in the Bog Lands.”
The morning mists were disappearing in the bright sunny morning. Papy locked the door, “just in case things turn out diff’rent than ‘spected. Maybe, we might be able ta come back someday.”
The front of the Wisherman home was neat and well-loved. Tucked into the side of the hill was their round wooden door (painted lavender) and under the round window was a bed of flowers (lavender, purple, and blue), and behind a small fence were quivering scrumble-berries on wooden lattice-work in a well tended garden.
“A safe journey to ye!” squeaked a voice from the base of a bush. Jenny was surprised to see a foot tall mouse in overalls with his small family behind him. The small group gave Jenny curious looks but asked no questions.
Papy gave a rare smile. “Tootles, thanks fer lookin’ after things. We may be back or maybe not. Now, ye be careful-like if the Reddunns come thru!”
“We’ll be snug-safe. Don’t ye be worryin’ ‘bout us. We be small and easy ta overlook.” harrumphed Tootles.
With a wave to the tiny family, Jenny and the Wishermans ambled down the hill.
Mamy sighed, “They be our gardeners- and mighty fine folks. Mice be the best gardeners.”
“I’ve never seen a mouse talk before.” Jenny observed.
“Fancy that.” Mamy said in surprise. “They be nice ‘nough... fer a ‘trixer. All animals be talkin’ here. And lots of the trees an’ plants too!” she sighed. “Hard to know if the quiet ones are thinkin’ bein’s or not sometimes. I s’pose we’re all relatives somehow, ev’n if we don’t understand ‘em. In yer world, could it be that you jes’ don’t talk their soul-speak?”
“Dunno.” Jenny mused. “Not sure I ever heard of anyone trying to learn squirrel, or dog, or mouse.”
The late morning air was crisp. The blue sky above and the gentle winding path below made it seem like nothing bad could ever happen in a place so beautiful. The trail led down the hill and wound between flower beds full of unusual flowers and odd gnarled trees which stretched mossy limbs over their path.
They passed the occasional neighbor sweeping their porches or trimming hedges. The neighbors came in a variety of shapes and sizes. None were human. The first house was round like a giant egg and filled with what appeared to be a family of large rabbits, who hopped upright like kangaroos and wore jackets and trousers. They reminded Jenny of the Beatrix Potter books.
Mamy didn’t much like them B-Trixers in general, though she did fine with them individually. (Papy said, “they jes’ wandered inta Frey, an’ they jes’ dinna belong here!”). But Jenny thought that they seemed pleasant enough. There were a lot of Beatrix Potter-like refugees who had built homes along the path they traveled. According to Papy, an island to the south had once been their home, but it had broken up and sank. The inhabitants piled onto any boat they could find and sought refuge on the continent of Frey.
“Not like the old days!” Papy commented while they passed a busy possum family. “There’s just too many of ‘em furry-ners. They keep makin’ too many wee ones!”
“They’ll be squeezin’ us out wit’ all their furry ways,” complained Mamy.
Sometimes they’d pass strange creatures who looked like no animals that Jenny had ever seen. Some lived in tree houses. She saw tall spindly beings who traveled along the path in woven cocoon-like carriages which reminded Jenny of gypsy wagons. Or old leathery beings in large hats atop unicycles, who’d wave to shiny striped quadrupeds singing drinking songs and tilling their fields. There was so much to see, smell, and hear that it kept Jenny in a continual state of surprise.
After they’d traveled a bit and the sights began to lessen in novelty, Jenny asked again, “Why would the Blue Queen want my blood?”
Papy walked alongside Jenny. “Well, there be two types of wishes if ya don’t count big or small in the mix. There be reg’lar wishes, and there be dark wishes.”
Mamy shook her head. “Dark wishes just be trouble.”
Papy continued. “Unless ya be a human, reg’lar wishes take a bit of coaxing to work. Ya have to keep ‘em ‘round ya and talk to ‘em. Be friendly like. Once they get ta know ya, they might do ya a good turn. But, humans be diff’rent, They get their wishes right off as wishes take natural kindly to human types. This frustrates some folk no end - and ‘parrently no one gets more angered ‘bout it than the Blue Queen herself. The story be that she’s turned ta dark wishes ta get what she wants. Dark wishes be hatched from fuzzy-wiggles growed on the blood of human children. Those wishes don’t ‘spect no niceties. They do exactly whatcha ask fer.”
“But, they don’t ‘lways do whatcha want!” Mamy muttered.
Jenny’s new violet eyebrows scrunched together under her hood. “If there’s no humans here, where does the Queen get children?”
“She’s gots little secret doors all over t’place that lead ta your world – like the one ya came through. She catches children, then milks the blood out of ‘em ev’ry mornin’ like cow-beasts to feed her worms. She prob’bly has her Redduns ’ready off ta find ya and add ya ta her stable.”
Jenny stopped and stared at them in horror.
Papy raised his hands to calm her. “But her palace be a bit-ways off. It’s above Nor’city and that’s a long shot away. It’ll take a time for ‘em ta get here and track ya. But, they’s got pow’ful noses.”
Jenny’s jaw dropped.
Mamy butted in, “Shush, Papy! Ya be scarin’ her. Dearie, don’t worry. Ya’ve been crawling in fluffball dust since ya met Papy. Thar’s nothing better ta make ya downright invisible to trackers. They won’t be able t’ smell ya at all.”
* * * *
Further down the canyon Jenny noticed the tops of roofs through the trees in the distance. As they got a bit closer she noticed burn marks on the trees, and bushes growing out of the rubble of burnt homes.
“What happened here?” whispered Jenny.
“The Blue Queen’s wot happened,” mumbled Mamy.
The trail followed along the base of the cliffs. As they passed around a large outcropping of orange and red striped rock, Jenny saw that a small village lay below them in a river valley. At this point, the river that they had been following from the east joined up with a tributary from the north, and a village was nestled at the meeting of the two rivers.
Amid the ruins of many homes, some still stood. Many looked to have been repaired from what remained of their neighbors’ homes.
Jenny tilted her head to read a broken sign by the trail. “Welcome to Whippledell!” Like the village beyond, the sign had seen better days.
“The queen came ta power in a confusin’ time.” Papy said. “No body were right sure of wot happ’n’d ta the mer-King, an’ the Blue Queen were talkin’ lots ‘bout makin’ Frey safe from furry-ners. She seem’d like she might be all right ta be in charge. She started l’arnin’ the names o’ folk real friendly-like. Next we knows, soldiers be attackin’ villages and killin’ and carryin’ folks off! Folks got ta be ‘fraid o’ her. If’n she knows yer name, she kin kill ya just like that! She’s got a great mem’ry fer names! So, folks do wot she says!”
They ambled along the main road of the village. An older white furry creature in a pink apron was sweeping off a ravaged porch. It looked like her home had experienced a fire recently. She gave them a cautious nod.
Papy waved. “Hiya Gertie. We, uh – jest takin’ a wee ‘venture wi’ our friend, who be uh– a swamp witch. Nice sort uh– them swamp witch types.”
Gertie was taller than Jenny and was sort of human-like. The longer fur on the top of her head was pink and lavender and swept up into a fancy hair-do that had seen better mornings. She had big eyes in a large head, and her body was sort of pear shaped. Gertie seemed weary.
Mamy pushed them all forward. “We gots ta be hurryin’ ‘long – sick kids ta tend!”
Gertie nodded with resignation, disappointed to not hear more and returned to sweeping.
“She be a fae,” Mamy said quietly. “Thar be more of ‘em in Frey than other sorts. Her nephew Floogle an’ his fam’ly were carried off ta the castle wi’ the rest. She be ev’r so worried ‘bout him.”
Next door an elderly reptilian creature with eyeglasses sat in a rocking chair with a book. He raised his eyes and nodded to them as they passed. As Jenny and the Wishermans walked down the street with their packs, there were greetings and offers of tea and biscuits. Papy and Mamy were not unknown in the village, but they politely waved and moved on.
A stone bridge crossed the little river. The road on the far side passed empty homes and forsaken gardens filled with weeds.
Mamy sighed. “A lot of the folk that used ta live here – nice folk too – are now slavin’ at the castle. If they be still alive. And now there be not ‘nough hands ta care fer the fields here. It be a tough time for all folk.”
* * * *
They spent that night curled up comfortable in a cave at the side of the trail, and the next morning the three hiked along hidden paths till noon. They now hid behind bushes whenever they heard anyone coming up the road.
By late afternoon, Papy was leading Jenny and Mamy along a hidden path that followed the base of towering cliffs. The baking walls of OrangeRock Canyon warmed the already hot wind, so the shade was welcome. Tall trees sang a soft rustling song of round silver-green leaves. They shimmered in the breeze like sequins on a Sparkletts’ truck. The leaves’ pattering sound lulled her worries of getting back home. Bees with orange and blue stripes buzzed about strange flowers. Large butterflies fluttered about sun-dappled patchwork glades between the trees.
When the canyon shifted to the left, it became greener and more lush with growth. The sun was hot. Jenny appreciated the increasing shade that the higher cliffs offered. The main road below them meandered in and out of sight between the trees.
Jenny realized that Papy was speaking.
“– when we get t’ the Market, we may ha’ some diff’culty gettin’ our two big wishes. Fortun’tly, with ya bein’ in the tunnel down below when I be fishin’, ah got an uncommon big haul of wishes. Ya be the best bait ever fer wishes!”
“I was your secret bait down there?” Jenny laughed.
“Ya sure be. And, so ah’s be tryin’ to show me apprec’ation by helpin’ ya ta get a big wish too. Though it might be tricksy.”
Mamy nodded her head - which made the poof on the top of her head wobble with her tall ears. “The Water Witch is mighty pec’liar and tough to fig’ur out.”
“But Mamy, she knows us. Ah’ve been doin’ bus’ness wit’ Mordette fer years now. She’ll do us right. ‘specially with Jenny wit’ us.”
“Oh, but that’s what ah am worry-shakin’ about.” Mamy argued. “Can we trust her? Jenny’s worth a whole heap ta the Queen, and Mordette loves a profit.”
“But Mordette don’t like the Queen none.”
“Where is the Wish Market?” asked Jenny.
“The island will be on the coast where the Riddle River pokes out in a few days. It floats about but it’s usually thar on Nickelday.”
“Nickelday?” asked Jenny.
“Nickelday! What’s this? Don’t ya know the days of the week? Ya look old enough ta know better!” griped Papy.
Mamy looked embarrassed for Jenny.
“But, we don’t have a Nickelday where I come from.” asserted Jenny.
“That is ridi’culous! How can ya not know the days of the week. Ev’ry six year old knowed ‘em. Thar be eight days in a week. Thar be Nickelday- that is the first day of the week and good fer doin’ chores. Then Wompday - named after the anc’ent god Womp - who did lots of Wompin’ when he was aboot. Yessiree... young-uns just don’t womp like we did back in my day...”
“What’s Wompin’?” Jenny asked.
“Don’t int’rrupt! Now, let me see. Next comes...”
“Shh!” Mamy warned and pulled both Jenny and her husband behind a bush.
There was a hubbub far down in the canyon below. A muddy dust storm whipped the trees out of its path. It was one of the strangest sights that Jenny had ever seen.
The tornado of wet red dust traveled up the road! The tornado was taller than the trees. As it approached, Jenny could see arms and legs and blurs of creatures spinning around in the column of red goop. It zoomed right below their hiding place and on up the canyon leaving gooey trees and bushes in a slimy wake.
“Redduns!” Papy exclaimed. “Them’s what the queen has sent after ya. We better be gettin’ a move on.”
“But, what are they?” Jenny asked.
“They be a dark mix of Red Cap and Fire Lizard – with a dash of Goblin,” shuddered Mamy. “They be a wee bit dizzy, but they be persistent.”
Papy set off down the trail. “We need ta get ta the Wish Monger and her floating Wish Market.”
“Mordette the Water Witch?” Jenny clarified.
“Mordette.” said Papy. “And if’n we’re lucky, she’s goin’ to help us get two big wishes.”
Mamy shook her head. “Maybe. Like you say, it’s goin’ ta be a wee tricksy.”
Chapter 11
Red Snot
Monsters
Even Redduns were not quite sure what they were after
the dark wish. They were a perfect example of what can happen when a dark wish goes wrong. This particular dark wish did not go as the Redduns expected.
Redduns were originally a variation of a Red Cap. Unpleasant faeries who dye their signature caps in their victims’ blood. Everyone should have some sort of hobby. Splattering copious amounts of blood was their hobby. A way to pass the day like someone else might play checkers. This particular tribe of Red Caps had a spot of Goblin in their genes, which gave their large noses an obsessive sense of smell; and their scaly scarlet sheen came from a red dragon grand-sire.
The Blue Queen was one of the few who appreciated their enthusiastic skill set and naturally hired them to be part of her royal guard. She found them to be mildly incompetent but useful minions.
The land of Frey encompassed many difficult places to reach, which complicated duties for the well meaning tyrant. So, she gave the Reddun tribe one of her treasured dark wishes to assist them in getting to these far flung locations more quickly.
The leader of the Redduns – Rudolfen by name – held the dark wish in his gnarled fingers and said “Ve vish ve Redduns ta be faster zan fast and ta go verever ve want in ze blink of un eye!”
Well, that is what he intended to say. But for better or worse, Rudolfen had a terrible cold that morning and instead of saying blink of un eye, he sneezed. And the dark wish obeyed! From then on, the Redduns traveled in a giant tornado of sneeze. In their wet sneezy form they could penetrate the smallest of cracks and reach the most impenetrable of places! They were as unimpeded as a sneeze from an uncovered mouth.
But unfortunately from then on, they couldn’t help but catch each other’s colds! When one travels together in a whirling, mucous-y army and your bodies are half air and half red booger dust for the duration, it goes without saying that it’s not terribly sanitary.
But, they were as ruthless as a well-traveled virus.
Because they could not get rid of their colds, they began to look at their sickness as a badge of honor. A sign of their strength! They began to brag!
Olly, Olly, Oxen Frey Page 6