“And I won’t have any back talk. You’ll all obey the new rule, or else!”
The threat had a chilling effect on the predators. They all peered at Amber with new respect.
“Now, as I was saying,” Amber continued. “There will be no more eating of mice. No jumping on mice. No clawing of mice. No biting on mice—or anything that looks like a mouse.”
“What will we live on?” the fidgety weasel cried in despair.
“Maybe you could go gnaw on your own tail,” Amber said.
The weasel gave her an evil look. “And maybe I’ll gnaw on your tail,” he hissed under his breath.
Amber glared hard at the creature, and against his will, the weasel whirled and grabbed his own tail and chomped down on it, his fangs sinking deeply.
“Help!” the weasel cried, his eyes bugging out. He leapt up and down in pain. “I’m biting my own tail!”
Amber released the spell, and the weasel sat down in a miserable heap, twitching and shaking.
The predators all looked properly pacified.
“Now,” Amber continued, “for the rest of you. You can eat caterpillars, mud pies, and your own ear wax for all that I care—but mice, voles, shrews, and their kin are off limits. Understand?”
The animals all peered at her and nodded.
“Anyone who is even thinking about sneaking a bite out of a mouse,” Amber said, “let your whiskers burn.”
Nearly every animal in the crowd suddenly had its whiskers flare up in a puff of smoke. Dogs yelped in terror and cats hissed. Weasels squeaked and owls hooted. Even one of the hairy caterpillars caught on fire. Amber was astonished to see that the angry caterpillar had been thinking about eating a mouse.
“Someday,” the singed caterpillar whined, “we worms will put an end to the tyranny of you vertebrates!”
Amber raised her voice and amplified it magically so that she roared like thunder. “All right, folks, we’re done here. Now leave us mice alone!”
With that, Amber pointed her finger and a powerful wind roared out of the sky, hurling mosquitoes and fleas away like leaves in a hurricane. The dogs ran yapping in terror, and the cats yowled. Lizards leapt and snakes slithered.
Soon the meadow was clear and quiet; only the black bear sat there, peering at Amber. She noticed that his whiskers hadn’t burned. Obviously, at his size, mice weren’t really on his menu.
“Well?” she said.
“You’ve made a lot of enemies here,” the bear said. “I was just noticing that. Animals that once just ate mice now hate mice. If I were you, I’d watch my back.”
The black bear got up and trundled away.
* * *
“Do you think I scared them enough?” Amber asked when the predators were all gone.
Ben wasn’t sure, but Lady Blackpool said, “It will hold them for a while. But mark my words, they’ll be looking for mouse blood in time.”
“I’ll only have to be gone for a few days to take care of the evil worm, I think,” Amber said. Ben really didn’t know how long she would be gone, days or weeks.
“Don’t go,” Lady Blackpool said. “My heart is full of foreboding. You’ll be facing a powerful wizard, perhaps even one who has been schooled in the dark arts. I don’t think that you’re ready to face him. You should go to a mage school first.”
“A school ?” Amber asked. “What’s a school?”
“It is a place of learning,” Lady Blackpool said, “where the old impart knowledge to the young.”
Amber looked at Ben. “Have you heard of such a place?”
“I’ve been to school,” Ben said. “I went to Dallas Elementary.” Ben didn’t say any more. He didn’t tell her about the bullies that pushed him on the playground, or mean old Mr. Lamb who mumbled when he tried to teach math.
“That’s a human school, but there are also schools for the wicked who wish to learn dark magic,” Lady Blackpool said. “The largest of them is called SADIST—the Small Animals’ Darling Institute of Sorcerous Technology. There are several chapters to this
The threat had a chilling effect on the predators. They all peered at Amber with new respect.
“Now, as I was saying,” Amber continued. “There will be no more eating of mice. No jumping on mice. No clawing of mice. No biting on mice—or anything that looks like a mouse.”
“What will we live on?” the fidgety weasel cried in despair.
“Maybe you could go gnaw on your own tail,” Amber said.
The weasel gave her an evil look. “And maybe I’ll gnaw on your tail,” he hissed under his breath.
Amber glared hard at the creature, and against his will, the weasel whirled and grabbed his own tail and chomped down on it, his fangs sinking deeply.
“Help!” the weasel cried, his eyes bugging out. He leapt up and down in pain. “I’m biting my own tail!”
Amber released the spell, and the weasel sat down in a miserable heap, twitching and shaking.
The predators all looked properly pacified.
“Now,” Amber continued, “for the rest of you. You can eat caterpillars, mud pies, and your own ear wax for all that I care—but mice, voles, shrews, and their kin are off limits. Understand?”
The animals all peered at her and nodded.
“Anyone who is even thinking about sneaking a bite out of a mouse,” Amber said, “let your whiskers burn.”
Nearly every animal in the crowd suddenly had its whiskers flare up in a puff of smoke. Dogs yelped in terror and cats hissed. Weasels squeaked and owls hooted. Even one of the hairy caterpillars caught on fire. Amber was astonished to see that the angry caterpillar had been thinking about eating a mouse.
“Someday,” the singed caterpillar whined, “we worms will put an end to the tyranny of you vertebrates!”
Amber raised her voice and amplified it magically so that she roared like thunder. “All right, folks, we’re done here. Now leave us mice alone!”
With that, Amber pointed her finger and a powerful wind roared out of the sky, hurling mosquitoes and fleas away like leaves in a hurricane. The dogs ran yapping in terror, and the cats yowled. Lizards leapt and snakes slithered.
Soon the meadow was clear and quiet; only the black bear sat there, peering at Amber. She noticed that his whiskers hadn’t burned. Obviously, at his size, mice weren’t really on his menu.
“Well?” she said.
“You’ve made a lot of enemies here,” the bear said. “I was just noticing that. Animals that once just ate mice now hate mice. If I were you, I’d watch my back.”
The black bear got up and trundled away.
* * *
“Do you think I scared them enough?” Amber asked when the predators were all gone.
Ben wasn’t sure, but Lady Blackpool said, “It will hold them for a while. But mark my words, they’ll be looking for mouse blood in time.”
“I’ll only have to be gone for a few days to take care of the evil worm, I think,” Amber said. Ben really didn’t know how long she would be gone, days or weeks.
“Don’t go,” Lady Blackpool said. “My heart is full of foreboding. You’ll be facing a powerful wizard, perhaps even one who has been schooled in the dark arts. I don’t think that you’re ready to face him. You should go to a mage school first.”
“A school ?” Amber asked. “What’s a school?”
“It is a place of learning,” Lady Blackpool said, “where the old impart knowledge to the young.”
Amber looked at Ben. “Have you heard of such a place?”
“I’ve been to school,” Ben said. “I went to Dallas Elementary.” Ben didn’t say any more. He didn’t tell her about the bullies that pushed him on the playground, or mean old Mr. Lamb who mumbled when he tried to teach math.
“That’s a human school, but there are also schools for the wicked who wish to learn dark magic,” Lady Blackpool said. “The largest of them is called SADIST—the Small Animals’ Darling Institute of Sorcerous Technology. There are several chapters to this
Similar Books
