The Pony's Hoof

by Claire Taylor-Smith

Hattie helped Archie down from the table and led him outside. The crowd had gone now and only Archie’s family remained by the entrance to Unicorn Meadows. The group of pegasi were hovering by the arch, their faces pinched with worry.

  A large pegasus gracefully stepped forward and greeted them as they approached.

  ‘I’m Arlon, Archie’s father. I just want to say thank you, Guardian.’

  ‘Don’t worry – we’ll have Archie better in no time,’ said Hattie, guiding the little winged pony to his mother, who nudged him protectively under her belly. ‘We’ll be back before you know it with the medicine he needs.’

  As she strode through Unicorn Meadows with Mith Ickle alongside her, Hattie felt the weight of the challenge on her shoulders.

  ‘Now where would I find a honeyspice bee?’ Hattie wondered aloud.

  The blank look on Mith Ickle’s face told her the little dragon didn’t know. Hattie had started to look around when a thought struck her: Don’t bees like flowers? There were lots of flowers in Unicorn Meadows and she wondered if it would be a good place to start.

  ‘Is this where I’ll find the best flowers in Bellua?’ she asked Mith Ickle, glancing around the meadow.

  The dragon thought for a moment, then replied, ‘Not really. The brightest ones grow in Pixie Park – it’s full of them!’

  ‘Then I reckon that’s where we should head first. I can’t see any bees around here anyway,’ said Hattie, as she checked her map for the route. How she would collect spice from a bee was another problem, but she knew she’d think of something. Archie was relying on her.

  It was a short walk to Pixie Park, but Hattie had to jump over several puddles on the way. Mith Ickle sensibly stayed in the air.

  ‘Has it rained much here, Mith?’ asked Hattie.

  The little dragon shook her head.

  Hattie remembered what Archie had said. ‘Perhaps Ivar has been trying out his new power already …’ Hattie’s eyes darted around to see if the nasty imp was nearby, but she couldn’t spot him.

  The entrance to Pixie Park was marked by a huge garland of flowers, which formed the prettiest arch Hattie had ever seen. Hattie knew immediately that she’d come to the right place. Bursts of yellow, orange, purple and pink made her blink in wonder. The flowers were brighter than any she’d seen in her world. They were as luminous as the highlighter pens her parents used at their vet’s practice. The arch had been clearly built for Bellua’s smaller residents, though, and Hattie had to duck to pass under it. Mith Ickle followed closely behind.

  On the other side, Hattie’s trainers sank into deep green grass, which smelled as sweet as a newly mown lawn. She looked around and was excited to see flowers blooming all over the park in bright clusters. Even better, a group of pixies were emerging from a nearby clump.

  Hattie called out a friendly hello, then crouched down to speak to the tiny creatures. She felt Mith Ickle curl round her shoulders and wondered if the dragon was worried they would tease her as the fairies always did.

  ‘You’re Hattie, aren’t you?’ asked one rosy-cheeked pixie, who was dressed in a bright yellow outfit. ‘Our friends saw you earlier. They said you’re going to help us beat that horrible Imp King. We hope you can. He’s already tried to steal our most magical flowers, you know.’

  The five other pixies in the group shook their heads crossly.

  ‘I’ll do everything I can to help you all,’ said Hattie. ‘Actually, perhaps you can help me? Ivar has hurt a young pegasus who desperately needs special medicine. I’m looking for the honeyspice bees and I hoped they might be here.’

  A second pixie stepped forward. ‘Yes, the honeyspice bees do come here to enjoy our beautiful flowers, but we never see them. They fly much too high for us to spot. We only know they’re inside a flower when the petals close up and it starts buzzing. Then we stay well away. There’s a famous pixie rhyme we all learn when we’re very young …’

  Hattie listened as all the pixies chanted together:

  A buzzing flower is a dangerous thing,

  For inside hides a bee with a sting!

  A sting? The idea of being stung hadn’t even occurred to Hattie. She remembered when Chloe had stepped on a bee in her garden and screamed so loudly that the next-door neighbour had come over to see if she was OK. She shivered slightly at the memory and felt Mith Ickle curl even tighter round her shoulders.

  ‘Well, at least we’re in the right place,’ she said, putting all thoughts of stings out of her head.

  Thanking the pixies for their help, Hattie stood up. ‘We’ll just have to wander around and look for them then,’ she said. ‘They’ve got to be here somewhere.’

  Mith Ickle flew high in the clear blue sky and Hattie walked from one end of Pixie Park to the other, but they had no luck, and Hattie was beginning to get impatient as she thought of Archie in pain.

  After several more minutes of searching, Hattie found Mith Ickle peering at a large clump of dazzling violet flowers with huge velvety petals.

  ‘There must be a better way to …’ Hattie began.

  ‘To what?’ asked Mith Ickle, but Hattie had wrinkled up her nose, and her eyes were fixed in concentration.

  ‘Can you smell that?’ she asked, turning to the little dragon.

  Mith Ickle wrinkled up her own nose. ‘Smell what?’

  ‘Cinnamon! The book said the spice was cinnamon.’

  ‘What’s cinnamon?’ asked Mith Ickle, looking puzzled.

  ‘You know, it smells sort of – warm and, well, spicy. Like, um, hot cross buns and apple pie and, er, Christmas?’

  The little dragon looked confused, but Hattie couldn’t waste any more time with explanations.

  ‘Follow me!’ she said, holding her nose high in the air and breathing in deeply as she strode through the grass. She could smell the spice and it would lead her to the right place. She was sure of it.

  The spicy smell grew stronger as Hattie walked. It made her think of the apple pancakes Dad sometimes made on Sunday mornings and the plum pudding that Grandma brought to their house every Christmas Eve.

  Suddenly the smell grew so strong that Hattie’s eyes watered, and a noisy buzzing filled her ears. A few metres in front of her was a swarm of several hundred tiny bees. They looked just like the bees she often saw in her garden at home, although these ones had bright blue stripes! She’d found the honeyspice bees at last.

  Hattie was so excited that she raced after the bees without a thought. They led her through Pixie Park and she soon found herself at the rocky outer edges of Dragon’s Valley. She was joined by a wheezing Mith Ickle. The dragon was blowing out small puffs of smoke after racing to keep up with her.

  They both watched open-mouthed as the swarm of bees separated into several neat lines and made their way towards a rocky outcrop. There were several hives and each was an oval shape about the size of a rugby ball. They were the same brilliant blue colour as the bees’ stripes. Hattie noticed they glowed brighter each time a bee entered. It was as if the hive was welcoming the bees back. Could the bees really be as dangerous as the pixies said they were?

  When the last bee had disappeared into its hive, Hattie felt ready to creep a bit closer. Yet the hives were just out of her reach. She tried placing her feet on small ledges of rock and pushing herself up, but her trainers kept slipping and the rough rock scraped her hands.

  ‘Let me help,’ said Mith Ickle, and she flew up to take a look.

  ‘There’s something covering the top of the hive, like a powder,’ the little dragon reported as she swooped back down and perched beside Hattie at the foot of the rocks. ‘Smells a bit funny, though.’

  ‘A bit – cinnamon-like?’ asked Hattie hopefully. ‘That must be what I have to collect! There has to be a way for me to get up there.’

  Mith Ickle fluttered up again and tried to collect some of the powder for Hattie, but her claws got in the way. Then she tried pushing a pile together with her snout, but she kept sneezing and blowing it away!

 
‘Oh dear!’ Hattie exclaimed. ‘Maybe I can find something to stand on.’ But there didn’t seem to be anything nearby that she could move into the right position.

  ‘I’ve got it!’ yelled Mith Ickle suddenly.

  She swooped down and picked up a long reed with a spongy end and gave it to Hattie.

  ‘You reach up and sweep the powder with this. I’ll go up by the hive and guide you to carefully push the spice into this nutshell,’ she said, holding up a shell that she had spotted on the ground.

  ‘Brilliant, Mith!’ said Hattie. ‘And I won’t have to get too close to the bees either. I don’t know what I’d do without you!’

  The little dragon beamed as she flew up, watching her friend point the reed nervously towards the top of one of the beehives.

  The buzzing sound was quiet at first, but, when Hattie guided the reed closer to the top of the hive, it definitely got louder. Terrified the bees would try to stop her taking the spice – and even more terrified of being stung – Hattie brushed some of the fine powder into the nutshell as quickly as she could. The sweet smell of cinnamon filled Hattie’s nose as much as the buzzing filled her ears.

  Suddenly the buzzing was replaced by a far more threatening sound: Ivar’s cackle!

  Hattie glanced around in panic, but there was no sign of the Imp King.

  Mith Ickle hurriedly returned to Hattie, clutching the nutshell carefully as she flew. The nutshell was just over half full. It would have to do. Though the bees were still safely inside their hives, the buzzing wasn’t getting any quieter – and nor was Ivar.

  Hattie carefully took the nutshell and wrapped it very tightly in a big leaf, making sure that the spice would not spill out, then she put it into her trouser pocket. Quickly Hattie stepped back from the hives. Squelch! Her trainers sent a splash of water flying into the air – closely followed by an alarmed dragon, as Mith Ickle dodged it.

  ‘Where’s all this water coming from?’ asked a worried Mith Ickle.

  ‘I think I can guess,’ said Hattie, looking down.

  The puddle under her feet was growing steadily. It seemed like it would soon join up with the other puddles that had appeared in the grass nearby.

  ‘Ivar must have been behind us, creating springs while we were collecting the spice! Come on – let’s get out of here before we get bogged down. I hope the puddles don’t trap any of the creatures around here.’

  Mith Ickle stayed in the air as Hattie leapt across the soggy grass, past the entrance to Dragon’s Valley and back on to a dry path. They heard laughter as Hattie jumped in the smaller puddles and over the larger ones.

  ‘It sounds like Ivar’s getting closer, Mith,’ Hattie said to her friend. ‘We’d better hurry to the Enchanted Orchard. Can you lead me there?’

  ‘Follow me!’ said Mith Ickle, shooting off as fast as her dragon wings could carry her.

  They reached the Enchanted Orchard in no time. Hattie caught her breath and looked around her.

  ‘Wow, this is beautiful!’ she gasped.

  Thousands of apples gave off a warm light, which made the shadows that fell on the ground a deep golden colour. The grass was as velvet soft as in Unicorn Meadows, but it too had a glow that lit up Hattie’s trainers as they sank into it.

  Hattie knew at once that finding the right tree wasn’t going to be easy. All the trees had twisted branches and pale leaves, and there were hundreds of them!

  Mith Ickle darted through the orchard, soon disappearing from view. Hattie, meanwhile, ran along a line of trees, desperately searching for one that stood out from the rest. She kept seeing the little dragon flitting about above her.

  The apples all looked the same too. They were the shiniest and rosiest Hattie had ever seen, tempting her to pick one and take a bite. They looked like they’d be the sweetest apples she’d ever taste!

  When she reached the far corner of the orchard, Hattie heard a soft giggling and realized that they weren’t alone. Mith Ickle flew up behind her and Hattie brought her finger to her lips, signalling to her friend to keep quiet.

  Creeping forward, Hattie peered round a tree trunk.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes! There under an apple tree was a boy, happily juggling several shiny red balls.

  But I’m supposed to be the only human in Bellua! thought Hattie, a little confused.

  She slowly crept closer. She was just a few steps away when she realized he wasn’t human after all. Although he had a boy’s head, arms and body, below his waist he had the legs of a goat. On closer inspection she could see horns protruding from his head. And they weren’t balls he was juggling but shiny red apples.

  ‘Hey!’ said Hattie. ‘What are you doing?’

  The goat-boy stopped juggling at once and gave her a friendly wave.

  ‘Hi, you must be Hattie,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard all about you. I’m Billy. I’m a faun, in case you were wondering. Half-boy, half-goat. I should be called a “boat” really!’

  Billy giggled at his own joke and Hattie couldn’t help smiling too. Mith Ickle, however, gave an unimpressed ‘Humph!’ and blew out a puff of hot smoke.

  ‘Did you pick those apples?’ Hattie asked.

  Billy shook his head. ‘I found them on the grass. Look – they even have bruises from where they fell.’

  He held one up to demonstrate before starting to juggle again. He threw the apples higher and then lower, over and under each other, and even behind his own back. Hattie watched with delight until she heard the flap of Mith Ickle’s wings behind her.

  ‘Come on, Hattie. We can’t waste time watching him show off. There are loads of trees we haven’t checked.’

  ‘Which tree are you looking for?’ asked Billy, ignoring Mith Ickle.

  Hattie wasn’t sure how much to tell this seemingly friendly but unfamiliar creature. Revealing only as much information as necessary, she described the tree she was looking for.

  ‘I think I know which one you mean,’ said Billy confidently. ‘Follow me!’

  Hattie felt like she had followed Billy around the orchard at least twice before he stopped at a tree that was standing a little apart from the others. At first Hattie didn’t think it was much different from the other trees in the orchard. Its wide, pale leaves hung from branches that were as thin as spaghetti – and almost as twisted as a bowlful of it! The branches must have been stronger than they looked because heavy red apples hung from them.

  When Hattie looked back at the other trees, she realized that this tree really was twistier than all the others. And its leaves were the palest green she’d ever seen.

  ‘The Great Twister Tree! It has to be!’ cried Hattie. ‘Thank you, Billy! You’ve saved Mith and me so much time. That’s just what I need!’

  Billy grinned. ‘At your service, Guardian.’

  Hattie stood on her tiptoes to get a better view. At the top of the tree, one apple stood out from all the others. It was bigger and it sparkled as if it was made of gold glitter.

  ‘There it is at the top! That’s the twistabout apple!’ Hattie cried. ‘I’m going up. Wish me luck!’

  She jumped up and wrapped her hands round the lowest branch of the tree. Then she pulled herself up and reached for the next branch. She was getting closer and closer to the twistabout apple …

  Then something caught her eye among the dense leaves above her – a flash of blue hair. That could only mean one thing: Immie, King Ivar’s helper!

  ‘Don’t bother climbing up. You’ll never get to that apple before me!’ called the blue-haired imp.

  ‘Oh, yes I will!’ replied Hattie, wrapping both her legs tighter round the tree’s trunk and preparing to move again.

  Hattie quickly clambered up through the branches, determined not to lose the precious apple. It was the only thing that would cure Archie’s hoof! However, as she climbed higher, her clothes kept getting caught on the twisty branches, slowing her down. Immie, being smaller, was moving much faster. Hattie struggled to keep up, despite Mith Ickle and Billy shouti
ng out helpful directions from below.

  She kept her eye firmly on the golden apple at the top, but with all the movement in the tree it was rocking dangerously to and fro.

  ‘The apple!’ she cried. ‘It’s going to fall and get bruised!’

  Seconds later, Hattie was startled to see an apple sail past her shoulder. Then she saw another bounce down …

  It landed on Immie’s head, knocking her right out of the tree! Horrified, Hattie looked up. Thank goodness! The special twistabout apple was still there.

  ‘Ouch!’ Immie howled, picking herself up off the ground and rubbing her head. ‘Keep your stupid apple, Hattie B! You still won’t stop King Ivar. Nobody can!’

  Then she stomped off, still muttering angrily, while Hattie and her friends laughed loudly.

  Their delight didn’t last long. Hattie had just begun to climb again when the leaves of a neighbouring tree began to rustle.

  ‘Watch out, Hattie!’ cried Mith Ickle.

  Shedding his leafy camouflage, King Ivar’s pointed ears and sharp features appeared before the shocked Guardian and her friends.

  ‘Useless servant!’ bellowed Ivar in the direction of the still-snivelling Immie. ‘If you can’t stop that meddling Guardian, I can!’

  Hattie froze. She had to beat Ivar to that apple!

  The song that started to come from Ivar’s thin lips was hardly tuneful, but Hattie knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to send her to sleep with the song of the dragon. Hattie found herself yawning and her eyes began to droop almost immediately. She couldn’t even try sticking a finger in each ear to drown out the sound because she had to hold on to the tree.

  Hattie looked towards Mith Ickle in desperation. Her friend’s face was fixed in an angry scowl. She knew it really upset the dragon to see Ivar using her power in this way.

  Then Mith Ickle began to sing a tune that was far more melodic than Ivar’s, and twice as loud. Billy joined in enthusiastically too, so that soon Hattie could barely hear Ivar’s song at all. Instantly feeling more energetic, she climbed several branches higher, her eye still fixed on the golden twistabout apple at the top of the tree.