tier and receiving the cap. Each snave, when on stage, roared or whispered, shouted or sang, writhed wildly or spun elegantly, droned dully or waved tentacles in the slowest of motions. No two acted the same. Such was so. And I understood nothing. Nothing. The snave whispering explanations to us was twice told more fuddling than the nonsense spouting from the stage below.
âThe Queenâs diamonds means the Kingâs raft. The biggest mushroom means lunch is overthrown. Dragon overhead means goblets of fun. Weeds of char means bake it now. Sing loudly means drain the lake,â whispered the snave in a blur of rush.
Kar looked at me. I looked at Kar. We did what we do. We shrugged. On and on it went, snaves winding down the tiers, each patiently waiting its turn to bellow nonsense. Kar tapped Jo Bree at my belt. Good idea. I lifted it up. Flush yellow pink it rested on my hands. I wanted it to rise and pulse rainbow. It didnât. It wouldnât. It rested flush yellow pink on my hands. I replaced it in my belt, and Kar and I again exchanged shrugs. The snave on our left continued to whisper rapid nonsense. Where was the witch? Where was the witch? A double loud shriek from the stage brought me back from numb stupor. The snave to our left abandoned our left. Instead, it sped slithering down to the stage. It took the cap from the snave whoâd shrieked, scundled to the latch-lid trunk, lifted the lid, inserted the cap, slammed the lid, and turned so such to fix its staring eye on Kar and me. Truth, every snave in the cavern turned our way and stared with wide open eye. The silence was truly somewhat stiff.
âTo weave an island from flooceâs wool, you need more than water and oats,â said the snave on the stage.
I understood. I understood! Why? I donât know. In my head the nonsense jelled into clarity. The snave had announced that it was now time for the visitors to perform.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kar Shifts and I Spout Nonsense
âThey want us in the river,â I eagerly explained. âTheyâre telling us all about the pudding. We must ⦠perform.â
Three times I had sent the words âWe must performâ from brain to lips. Twice had my lips and tongue so such conspired to garble the message before relenting at last to the pitiful spectacle of my ever-expanding agitated urgency.
âShall we read tatters of straw? Shall we reside in mounds of sticky bark?â I asked more calmly, fully expecting my question to break through the nonsense on the third try. âShall we tell âem about the ⦠the freeze and the ⦠stiff silence ⦠and the witch and ⦠and ⦠why weâre here?â
âWeâll do better than that, Bek. Get ready to hop on,â said Kar. She shimmered to shift.
She fogged into orange mist and emerged red Dragon, matching neatly her color to that of the snaves. I hopped onto her neck and clung. She lifted to swoop on membraned wings all above and around the tiers of benches in the cavernous bowl. The snaves registered delight. I saw âem grinning and waving their tentacles. I heard âem murmuring in approval. Kar tilted and dropped us in a glide to land in the center of the circular platform stage.
âBehold, you snaves of Annek! I, the first and only jrabe jroon, Karro of Thorns, Rakara, Queen Jebb of the Acrotwist Clowns, bring to you the great privilege and opportunity to hear Bekka, the Chronicler of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined! She, who is keeper and collector of all Gwer drollek stories, will explain to you our quest.â
Kar lowered her head, and I slid to the stage, true and properly introduced. I felt it so such. Not a sliver timid, I stood there in silver blue light under the gazes of surrounding multitudes of snaves. Truth, I was a new Bekka, fair bold, not shy. Confident to my core, I opened my arms and shouted out my message.
âWeeds are not eyebrow replacements,â I
âThe Queenâs diamonds means the Kingâs raft. The biggest mushroom means lunch is overthrown. Dragon overhead means goblets of fun. Weeds of char means bake it now. Sing loudly means drain the lake,â whispered the snave in a blur of rush.
Kar looked at me. I looked at Kar. We did what we do. We shrugged. On and on it went, snaves winding down the tiers, each patiently waiting its turn to bellow nonsense. Kar tapped Jo Bree at my belt. Good idea. I lifted it up. Flush yellow pink it rested on my hands. I wanted it to rise and pulse rainbow. It didnât. It wouldnât. It rested flush yellow pink on my hands. I replaced it in my belt, and Kar and I again exchanged shrugs. The snave on our left continued to whisper rapid nonsense. Where was the witch? Where was the witch? A double loud shriek from the stage brought me back from numb stupor. The snave to our left abandoned our left. Instead, it sped slithering down to the stage. It took the cap from the snave whoâd shrieked, scundled to the latch-lid trunk, lifted the lid, inserted the cap, slammed the lid, and turned so such to fix its staring eye on Kar and me. Truth, every snave in the cavern turned our way and stared with wide open eye. The silence was truly somewhat stiff.
âTo weave an island from flooceâs wool, you need more than water and oats,â said the snave on the stage.
I understood. I understood! Why? I donât know. In my head the nonsense jelled into clarity. The snave had announced that it was now time for the visitors to perform.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kar Shifts and I Spout Nonsense
âThey want us in the river,â I eagerly explained. âTheyâre telling us all about the pudding. We must ⦠perform.â
Three times I had sent the words âWe must performâ from brain to lips. Twice had my lips and tongue so such conspired to garble the message before relenting at last to the pitiful spectacle of my ever-expanding agitated urgency.
âShall we read tatters of straw? Shall we reside in mounds of sticky bark?â I asked more calmly, fully expecting my question to break through the nonsense on the third try. âShall we tell âem about the ⦠the freeze and the ⦠stiff silence ⦠and the witch and ⦠and ⦠why weâre here?â
âWeâll do better than that, Bek. Get ready to hop on,â said Kar. She shimmered to shift.
She fogged into orange mist and emerged red Dragon, matching neatly her color to that of the snaves. I hopped onto her neck and clung. She lifted to swoop on membraned wings all above and around the tiers of benches in the cavernous bowl. The snaves registered delight. I saw âem grinning and waving their tentacles. I heard âem murmuring in approval. Kar tilted and dropped us in a glide to land in the center of the circular platform stage.
âBehold, you snaves of Annek! I, the first and only jrabe jroon, Karro of Thorns, Rakara, Queen Jebb of the Acrotwist Clowns, bring to you the great privilege and opportunity to hear Bekka, the Chronicler of the Boad, All Fidd and Leee Combined! She, who is keeper and collector of all Gwer drollek stories, will explain to you our quest.â
Kar lowered her head, and I slid to the stage, true and properly introduced. I felt it so such. Not a sliver timid, I stood there in silver blue light under the gazes of surrounding multitudes of snaves. Truth, I was a new Bekka, fair bold, not shy. Confident to my core, I opened my arms and shouted out my message.
âWeeds are not eyebrow replacements,â I
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