heavy air full of dreams, the gentle lapping of waves on the shore forming a tidal rhythm to doze by. Deep in her polar night, Strega-Nonna dreamt of igloos and ice. Her freezer bed hummed and clicked, powered by a thin cable that snaked between the sleeper and the wall socket. The cable trailed across several yards of floor, dipping for half its length into a yellow puddle. This puddle consisted of fluids that had oozed out from Pandora’s neglected pile of fish sticks, profiteroles, and ice cream. At first it was a rather nasty combination of fish drip, chocolate and cream leak, and banana, mint-chocolate-chip, and strawberry ooze. That had been fourteen hours ago.
In the gentle warmth of the cellar, the puddle now could be safely described as a biological hazard. Bacteria formed, grew, reached adulthood, had babies, and became grandparents. Teeming millions fed on the puddle, came back for secondhelpings, belched microscopically, and, due to the richness of the feast, passed large quantities of noxious gases. The puddle bubbled and heaved like a small swamp. The puddle stank. To Multitudina, who had missed bacon rind breakfast, the puddle was the nearest thing to heaven that she’d ever smelled.
Oh YES, she thought, running at it at full tilt. Oh YES, oh YES, she continued, rolling up her top lip to expose her long yellow teeth. Mmmhmmm, sweet fishy rancidness, mmhmm, sour cheesy putrefaction, mmHMMM, taste that decay, mmHmMM? Rubbery chewiness? … BANG! Uh-oh … FLASSSSH.
Those fireworks were quite unnecessary, thought Multitudina, rubbing her burnt nose and assessing herself for whisker loss. Good food doesn’t need that kind of embellishment. Squeaking with outrage, she bolted out of the cellar and scuttled upstairs to her refuge under Titus’s bed.
The freezer, in the silent way of such things, began to adapt to life as a large box. The thaw had begun.
Magic for Beginners
M orning dawned, wet and gray at StregaSchloss. Rain pitted the surface of the moat like a bad case of acne, and Tock sulked under a water lily thicket. Puddles formed, gutters ran, and windows misted up inside. The dungeons tended to seep and drip in bad weather, and out of pity, Mrs. McLachlan had allowed Sab, Ffup, and Knot into the kitchen to dry off. By the range, Marie Bain was stirring a pot of volcanic porridge, her yellow feet incongruously clad in fluffy pink slippers adorned with little bunnies. Mouth pursed and eyes grimly slitted, she was trying to ignore Knot, who gazed fixedly at the cook’s feet and hoped against hope that she was wearing his breakfast.
Titus sat opposite the beasts, sneezing occasionally and steadily working his way through the healthy part of breakfast in the hope of reaching the unhealthy part before his jaws collapsed from exhaustion.
“More muesli, dear?”
“Nnnng,” he replied, chewing heroically.
When Mrs. McLachlan turned her back on him to assess the status of her baking raspberry muffins, Titus slid his muesli bowl over to Ffup.
The dragon glared at him. “Forget it, pal,” he hissed, pushing it back to Titus with a disdainful talon. “After last night’s offering, I’m
never
going to eat your leftovers again.”
Titus raised a hopeful eyebrow at Sab. The griffin’s eyeballs immediately turned to stone. Titus sighed. Knot was oblivious to everything but Marie Bain’s feet, encased as they were in such delicious pink fluffiness.… With another deep sigh, Titus began his fortieth spoonful of muesli.
Upstairs, Pandora was examining the plunder from her mother’s briefcase.
“With this kind of spell, I could shrink you as small as a bug,” muttered Pandora, conducting an imaginary conversation with her absent brother. “And squash you so
flat
that your insides would come out with a splat.…”
One and three-quarter Disposawands later, Pandora was getting the hang of magic. At first light, she’d crept out of bed, re-read the relevant instructions in the papers from the
In the gentle warmth of the cellar, the puddle now could be safely described as a biological hazard. Bacteria formed, grew, reached adulthood, had babies, and became grandparents. Teeming millions fed on the puddle, came back for secondhelpings, belched microscopically, and, due to the richness of the feast, passed large quantities of noxious gases. The puddle bubbled and heaved like a small swamp. The puddle stank. To Multitudina, who had missed bacon rind breakfast, the puddle was the nearest thing to heaven that she’d ever smelled.
Oh YES, she thought, running at it at full tilt. Oh YES, oh YES, she continued, rolling up her top lip to expose her long yellow teeth. Mmmhmmm, sweet fishy rancidness, mmhmm, sour cheesy putrefaction, mmHMMM, taste that decay, mmHmMM? Rubbery chewiness? … BANG! Uh-oh … FLASSSSH.
Those fireworks were quite unnecessary, thought Multitudina, rubbing her burnt nose and assessing herself for whisker loss. Good food doesn’t need that kind of embellishment. Squeaking with outrage, she bolted out of the cellar and scuttled upstairs to her refuge under Titus’s bed.
The freezer, in the silent way of such things, began to adapt to life as a large box. The thaw had begun.
Magic for Beginners
M orning dawned, wet and gray at StregaSchloss. Rain pitted the surface of the moat like a bad case of acne, and Tock sulked under a water lily thicket. Puddles formed, gutters ran, and windows misted up inside. The dungeons tended to seep and drip in bad weather, and out of pity, Mrs. McLachlan had allowed Sab, Ffup, and Knot into the kitchen to dry off. By the range, Marie Bain was stirring a pot of volcanic porridge, her yellow feet incongruously clad in fluffy pink slippers adorned with little bunnies. Mouth pursed and eyes grimly slitted, she was trying to ignore Knot, who gazed fixedly at the cook’s feet and hoped against hope that she was wearing his breakfast.
Titus sat opposite the beasts, sneezing occasionally and steadily working his way through the healthy part of breakfast in the hope of reaching the unhealthy part before his jaws collapsed from exhaustion.
“More muesli, dear?”
“Nnnng,” he replied, chewing heroically.
When Mrs. McLachlan turned her back on him to assess the status of her baking raspberry muffins, Titus slid his muesli bowl over to Ffup.
The dragon glared at him. “Forget it, pal,” he hissed, pushing it back to Titus with a disdainful talon. “After last night’s offering, I’m
never
going to eat your leftovers again.”
Titus raised a hopeful eyebrow at Sab. The griffin’s eyeballs immediately turned to stone. Titus sighed. Knot was oblivious to everything but Marie Bain’s feet, encased as they were in such delicious pink fluffiness.… With another deep sigh, Titus began his fortieth spoonful of muesli.
Upstairs, Pandora was examining the plunder from her mother’s briefcase.
“With this kind of spell, I could shrink you as small as a bug,” muttered Pandora, conducting an imaginary conversation with her absent brother. “And squash you so
flat
that your insides would come out with a splat.…”
One and three-quarter Disposawands later, Pandora was getting the hang of magic. At first light, she’d crept out of bed, re-read the relevant instructions in the papers from the
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