Woodlock by Steve Shilstone Page B

whispered.
    â€œI sang too much, screamed too much,” I replied.
    â€œAh, then, ye know something of yesterday, do ye?” he said in his normal voice.
    He brought himself to the fuzzy ferny bank of the pond and stood, not floated, near me. Close up, his fiery orange eyes were most amazing. They blazed with kindness, not with fury like those of Runner Rill. Such was a way I could tell ‘em apart. Riffle Sike waved a mist green hand toward the cave and mumbled strange wizard words. From the cave’s mouth and straight to his hand glided his purple starred pouchbag. He caught it, opened it, rummaged in it, all the while winking and glancing from me to the pouchbag.
    â€œAh, watch this,” he said in triumph, raising up on the tips of his fingers a small clear crystal globe.
    He placed the globe on the ground between us and motioned for me to be seated. I sat. So, too, did he. Such. He engaged me with his kind fiery eyes and put one finger to his lips. His message was “Be silent.” I really needed no such message. My throat hurt and I wanted to hear HIM talk. He pointed to the sky where a dark cloud hung, edged with pink and gold. He closed his eyes. Not knowing what I should do, I did nothing. In time, the night grew blue and deep. I closed
    my eyes and fell asleep.
    â€œTeller, look now,” I heard him say.
    My head, which had flopped chin to chest, jerked up. I opened my eyes and bathed in bright yellow light pulsing from the glowing crystal globe. Riffle Sike’s wild mass of orange hair and his smiling mist green face were lit. Otherly, darkness most black surrounded us.
    â€œThis be the best way to tell a tale, don’t ye think, Teller? All in the fathoms deep night by the light of an orb,” he said.
    I nodded in agreement, though I did not agree. Bendo dreen like stories told in nest or Assembly Bower so such the best. Nevertheless, so said, Riffle Sike’s next words tingled me alert.
    â€œYesterday. Ye wish to hear about the whirlpool of confusion, do ye? What happened here? A tidal wave broke! But then, to sail back. I’ll tell ye that after I disappeared at the tall tree pool, I wandered the Woods searching for a better home. Why? I did not find the beckoning pool by the tall, tall tree at all appealing. Runner Rill wanted me to have it. I didn’t want it! My vision dream duty was spilled to completion. I was free to go where I would. I listened for a sea call, a billowy wave. I tried out some of my amulets. Oh, after plunge hither, and after plunge yon, I found here! How saucy it be! But wait! Yesterday I was lounging at the bottom of the pool when I was struck with a sudden need for my pouchbag. Why? A glacier in my mind broke off, revealing an idea for a wonderful spell! I…Oh, what matter? No matter. When I rose to the surface, Runner Rill was there at my cave and…and the woodlock was standing on the rocks above it! I babbled at Runner Rill some nonsense. I wanted him gone. I had an idea for a wonderful spell! He babbled at me. He iced my heart. He wanted this pool for himself! He wanted my pool! When he turned and saw the woodlock, I got by him and rushed to my pouchbag inside the cave. As quickly as I could, I spelled myself invisible. I floated out, preparing to fling a spell at Runner Rill. But instead, I stopped short, for I found him spinning in a gusher rage. The woodlock was gone. Runner Rill roared, ‘I’ll leave these foul and stagnant waters! I’ll find a pool for me somewhere outside these wretched Woods! Oh, to be a river! To be a river!’ Then he sailed off through the trees without a look back. He be gone to find a better pool. This one be mine.”

Chapter Twenty-Four
    A Wild Search
    â€œCan you call your brother back? Can you find him? You must have something in your pouchbag to do so such! You need to tell him you have no interest in the woodlock. He thinks you do. He thinks she’s yours. I saw him. He