MomPerson is bugging me to read the first book in her Children’s Fantasy Adventure Book Series The Lazy Dragon and the Bumblespells Wizard. Something about the characters and do Hank and I like them. I don’t get it.
She calls us “characters” and rubs our ears when we do something silly. Like this.
Of course, we like ear-rubs, but you can’t rub the ears of a book if you like the “characters.” I think.
I’m going to ask William the wingless dragon in MomPerson’s office. He’s really smart and remembers everything he reads. Which is important, because I chewed up my Lazy Dragon book, so I can’t read it.
William had a meeting with the tiny dragons on the other side of the office so he told Hank to get the extra copy of Lazy Dragon so I could read it to us both. “Start with the very first chapter and see how you like Cl’rnce.”
So I did:
Chapter One—
Cl’rnce Merlin Clan Principus River Dr’gons—or as his twin sister called him, “waste of dr’gon scales”— crumpled the poster in his paw and stared into his school’s main hall. The Dr’gon and Wizard Technological School and Knights Academy students filed past him. None of them looked at him and most gave him a wide berth.
Cl’rnce didn’t care. He had plans. “This is war. My sister is going to pay,” Cl’rnce whispered, too low for any of the other students to hear.
Hazel was one snarky sister, and it was over-the-top mean of her to make and hang that poster. He un-crumpled it and read it again:
Fair Warning. Cl’rnce Merlin Clan Principus River Dr’gons has stolen the baby Barforamous from the zoology department. Be on the lookout. Cl’rnce most assuredly plans a messy and smelly practical joke for the annual Students’ Assembly.
Cl’rnce sighed. Hazel was a spoiler. Most of what she wrote was true, except for the part about him having the Barforamous. Bubbles had escaped yesterday during Cl’rnce’s mid-afternoon nap. The smelly little fart-machine creature was probably eating all the stinkweed on the river’s edge and would work his way back to Wiz-Tech all on his own by tomorrow. But that was too late for Cl’rnce’s long-planned prank.’
I stopped reading. Hank, who had been upside down in the chair by the window, jumped up and barked for more. He doesn’t usually sit still to read, but he insisted Cl’rnce sounded like fun. It turned out until we learn magic we won’t be able to copy Cl’rnce’s pranks. …
I read until I got to another chapter. Suddenly I was reading about a Wizard! And Hank was still listening, because now there was way more magic AND a very scary adventure!
Chapter 3
Hugging her secret under her tunic, Moire Ain ran toward the village. Over her skinny shoulders, the sun poured midday heat, a scalding reminder of the awful fury Hedge-Witch would be in. Hours ago Moire Ain should have returned to their hut with the herbs, including the pale and odorous tuber she was sure was poisonous.
For once Moire Ain didn’t care how bad a beating she would get. She finally possessed the one treasure she had never expected to own. Moire Ain had found her own magick book. Finding a place to hide it was more important than Hedge-Witch’s wrath.
Running past the first village hut, Moire Ain thought a thanks to Goodwife Greenfield for the reading and writing instructions. Not that the goodwife knew she had been teaching the witch’s foster child. For the last few years, Moire Ain had hidden in a tree and soaked up the lessons the goodwife taught to her brood of children. No one knew Moire Ain could read and write.
As she sped past more village huts, the peasants turned their backs. For as long as she could remember, the villagers had hurried inside their homes whenever she passed. But this time, she couldn’t slow to wish one of them wanted to know her, become her friend.
Where the book touched her, her skin prickled again. Strangely it was the same feeling she’d gotten when she’d spotted the piece of leather-wrapping sticking up out of the earth. She’d quit digging for Hedge-Witch’s poisonous plant when she caught sight of the leather. At first, she feared that the plant and the buried book were one and the same—evil. But curiosity got the better of her, and when she’d unwrapped the book and held it in her hands, she felt the good. The happiness.
Moire Ain had magick in her. Not much. Not as much as she wanted. But she knew the feel of good over evil. She knew which herbs would counteract the poisonous ones Hedge-Witch fed to the villagers’ animals in order to force the peasants to pay for cures. When Moire Ain could, she secretly cured the animals before Hedge-Witch could do any real damage.
This book prickled and tickled with good magick, even if it was mostly written in a language she didn’t know. Enough of it was in her own language for her to be certain of the good. She could become a great wizard with this book. But first she had to find a safe place for it.
She stopped thinking of hiding places when she spotted a horse tied to one of the haphazard branches that made up the walls of their hut. Not only was a horse unusual, but Moire Ain had seen this horse once before. Last time, Hedge-Witch had taken off and been gone for three days. She’d returned in an abnormally good mood, with gold to hide under the dirt in the corner of the hut. For a week afterward, the old witch sang of murder and mayhem and giggled like a wrinkled little girl.
Moire Ain veered behind the villagers’ huts. She would come up behind her home, away from the front opening. There was nowhere to hide around her shack. Unlike the other homes, there were no trees or bushes shading Moire Ain’s home. It was hot in the summer and cold in the winter. All the saplings Moire Ain had tried to plant close to the hut died at once. Moire Ain was sure the noxious gases scattering from the carcasses that dried on racks in the yard had killed the plant life. Or maybe it was the gathered plants, also set out to dehydrate, since many were poisonous instead of curative.
Moire Ain wanted to hear what the crone was up to with this visitor. So Moire Ain snuck up to their hut, sliding along the side. She was pretty safe since their hut had no windows. Even better, the walls were thin, and Moire Ain’s hearing was acute.
“I tell you she is ready,” Hedge-Witch said. “She will do the deed within the five days.”
A voice, which creaked low but could have been either a man or a woman, answered, “You are certain?
Your life depends on it.” …
We had just started the scary adventure part when Hank barked and raced to the top of the stairs. MomPerson was coming. I stuck the book back on her desk and joined Hank. We both smelled the peanut butter treats she had in her pockets, which I knew we were going to get doubles of when we told her what we thought of Cl’rnce and Great and Mighty.
BTW- It turns out for MomPerson, reading her #adventure #fantasy books is the same as rubbing her ears. She was one happy Scribe. Hank and I are going to read about Cl’rnce’s sister and her best friend next. Or the Barforami- Bubbles and Smush. We’ll see.
Just Sayin,
Rufus
