Bumblestook: Book 1, The Accidental Wizard (31 page)

Tom shot the young Gr-r-r-og a warning look. “Why, as to
that
I cannot say,” he said hastily. “For while tis true I know a lot, how could I possibly know what
you
do not?”

“Huh?” Farley’s face screwed up in confusion as he pondered this.

“What I mean to say is, if I knew what you don’t know, I could say if it were so!” Tom explained further.

“But, how can I tell you what I don’t know?” Farley asked, reasonably.

“Enough gobbeldy-gook!” Fiona interrupted before Tom could “explain” further. She crossed her arms firmly and addressed the Bungaree. “Out with it! What do you know about the voice I heard?”

“A possible explanation,
could
be your imagination…” Tom tried once more, halfheartedly. Fiona merely arched a delicate brow and fixed him with a look, cold and sharp as a dagger of ice. The Bungaree sighed heavily. He leapt to his feet, pacing back and forth in the cramped space, tail and whiskers nervously a-twitch.

“The problem is, it’s a secret, you see. Now, that’s usually not a problem, for a Bungaree. But
this
particular secret, doesn’t belong to me!”

“Then, who
does
it belong to?” Fiona asked.

“To your father, of course!” Tom said, throwing up his hands. “Lancelot Faire is the secret’s source. It is to
him
that I am bound, and he gave me strict orders,
no
t to expound. If I choose to be fickle, I’ll be in a pickle! I’m stuck, I am, in a
heckava
jam,” he concluded (his growing hunger, no doubt, influencing his choice of words).

Fiona cocked her head to one side and Farley scratched his head, as they considered this.

Suddenly, Yap’s hand shot into the air. “
I
know,
I
know,
I
know!” he whined, waving his arm back and forth eagerly, as his thrice-curled tail thumped the ground wildly. He jumped up to dog the Bungaree’s steps, an eager look on his youthful face. “Scuse me, sir,” he ventured, tugging on the hem of Tom’s tunic. “I think
I
know what ta do.”

Tom looked down, skeptically.

“It’s like you taught me,” Yap said. “ ’member—’bout usin’
dish-cresh-un
? Maybe
you
could use summa that
now
!”

“H-m-m-m.” Tom’s long tail curled and uncurled above his head as he considered this. “In this case, it
could
be said, what Fiona
doesn’t
know,
could
knock her dead! So-o-o, the
wrong thing to do, is the right thing too.” He snapped his fingers decisively. “For Fiona’s safety, her ignorance I must dispel, and so I
must
the secret tell!”

“Oo, oo! Can I do it? Can I tell? Can I, ple-e-e-ease?” Yap begged.

“Go ahead, kid” Tom said magnanimously. “You’ve earned it.”

“
Fyona’s one-a The People
” Yap blurted out, one finger shooting out to point at the girl (whom, it must be said, did not blink a lash, despite the furry digit less than an inch from her face). Next, Yap whirled to point at the boy. “An’ Farley’s
not
!” he crowed.

Farley, leaning back to avoid being poked in the nose, promptly fell over backwards.

“Whataya mean? I’m people too,” he said, a bit resentfully.

“No, Master Farley.
You’re
a Human
bean
. Fyona’s
not
! She’s like me an’ Tom. One-a The People.”

Farley stared at his friend in astonishment. “Is that true? You can turn into an animal, like these guys?”

Fiona eyed him disdainfully. “Have you ever seen
me do that?”

“No, but maybe you never tried, cuz you never knew you could,” Farley reasoned.

“
I
would know,” Fiona countered.

“Obviously, you kids have some holes in your education,” said Tom. “Looks like it’s up to me to provide illumination.”

Yap sat back down and they all looked up with anticipation, as Tom (puffing out his chest and assuming a professorial air) proceeded to enlighten them.

“The most important thing, of which you must be apprised, is that The People are of three, magical races comprised. First, are the Amorphae, like Yap and me—as diverse as birds in the air, animals on the ground, and fish in the sea. Next, we have the Heroes, of great courage possessed. They’re the natural-born leaders of all of the Quests. And finally, there are Wizards, our greatest Magical resource. They’re in charge of all of the Magic, of course.”

“Hey, my dad does magic! Is
he
a Wizard?” Farley, who had been listening open-mouthed, interjected brightly.

Tom closed his eyes briefly. “No, he’s
Human
. They do magic
tricks
. There’s a difference, like that between wands and mere sticks.”

“Oh,” said Farley, crestfallen.

“Which one am I?” Fiona asked.

“Well, your parents are Heroes of no small fame, so it’s most likely that you are the same. You
could
be a Wizard. Wizards and Heroes do marry sometimes. But if you
were
a Wizard child, there would have been some signs.”

“Like what?” Fiona asked.

“Well, Wizard babies can levitate, at any time, night or day. Their parents use tethers and leashes, to keep them from floating away. It’s always quite a lark, watching Wizard parents with their baby balloons, strolling through the park!”

“My mom had to put
me
on a leash when
I
was little,” Farley (still hopeful) piped up.

“Interesting to note, but you don’t float. Besides, there is one other thing, that distinguishes a Wizardling,” said Tom.

“What’s that?” Farley asked.

“Let’s say, a Wizardling sees something he desires for himself. Perhaps it’s something he shouldn’t have, or it’s high up on a shelf. If his parents don’t respond
, immediately
, to his demand, he merely reaches out and it flies into his hand! So, to teach their children properly, and keep them safe from harm, Wizards baby-proof their homes, with Stay-put spells and Keep-away charms.”

“
My
parents had to baby-proof
my
house,” Farley insisted stubbornly.

Tom sighed. “Farley, you’re a Human Being. I’m sorry, but you cannot be a Wizard.”

Farley bit his lip and looked at the ground. In his heart of hearts, he felt sure that Tom was wrong. Human’s
could
do real magic—they
could
! And someday he would prove it! But, arguing about it now was not going to help his parents. He swallowed his disappointment and looked up at the Bungaree.

“Well, what about Fiona, then. You said she’s a Hero. And something about Quests. What’re those?”

Tom nodded solemnly. “A Quest is a journey to find some
thing
or some
one
. It is of benefit to all of The People, once the Quest is done. When a Hero is born, a Wizard performs the Seeing, revealing the purpose of the Quest, brought into being.”

Tom took a stance, feet planted firmly apart, hands behind his back.

“Armed with sharpened wits and courageous heart, Emboldened by tales of daring-do,
Duty-bound is our Hero, once the Quest doth start, Be it a year or a lifetime, to see it through!”

Tom bowed as Yap clapped his hands enthusiastically. “
The Hero’s Fate
by Dragor Bilgefest. It’s a must-read, for anyone going on a Quest. Memorized it, when I was a kit.”

Farley flashed Fiona a look of concern. “Sounds kinda dangerous,” he said.

“Indeed, indeed, it may very well be! But
true
Heroes don’t mind! Tis their destiny!” Tom replied authoritatively.

“But what if Fiona doesn’t
wanna
go off on a Quest,” Farley persisted.

Fiona reached out to place a hand on her friend’s arm. “It’s alright, Farley. I don’t mind.”

Farley looked at his friend; taking in her alert posture, the slight flare to her nostrils, her eyes shining with interest. More telling than that, he could sense that she was eager to assume the role of Hero, despite the dangers it might hold.

Now, a slight crease appeared above Fiona’s nose, precisely in the middle of her perfectly arched brows.

“But, what exactly
is
my Quest?” she asked the Bungaree.

“Don’t ask me,” Tom replied. “Only a Wizard has the power to see what may be.”

“Didn’t a Wizard come to see me when I was born?” Fiona asked.

Tom chuckled. “One of the best! But even
he
couldn’t see
your
Quest!”

“Why not, if he’s so good at wizarding?” the young girl asked, imperiously.

“That I may tell you in time,” Tom replied, a look of cunning overtaking his features. “But for now, it’s a secret, and
that
secret is mine!”

In one smooth motion, Fiona rose to confront the Bungaree. “It seems to me, that if a secret is
about
a person, then it
belongs
to that person,” she said coldly, eyes glittering dangerously.

Farley (sensing in his friend, an icy resolve the size of a glacier) rose nervously to stand between the girl and the Bungaree.

“It doesn’t work that way,” said Tom, somehow managing to back away, without backing down. “Secrets, you see, are the treasure of the Bungaree. They’re like nuggets of gold or precious gems, for which we gladly risk life and limb. We find ‘em and save ‘em, buy ‘em and trade ‘em. We sniff ‘em out and dig ‘em up, but no one can make us
give
’em up. Even the mightiest Mage in all the land, cannot force a Bungaree’s hand!” he declared passionately.

“Maybe Fiona can trade you for it,” Farley ventured.

The Bungaree’s twitching whiskers betrayed his interest. “Possibly, but it won’t come cheap, I guarantee! This secret’s got it all—intrigue, deception, and mystery!”

Suddenly, Tom’s stomach let out a long, hungry growl.

“I’ll trade you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
and
one of my protein bars,” Fiona offered quickly.

“Done!” the Bungaree agreed.

Shortly thereafter, they all settled down to a fine meal of PB&J, as Tom spun his tale. He told of how he had journeyed to the Outlands, where magic-folk were few and far between. He’d heard a rumor; the legendary Heroes Faire had taken up residence there, in an exclusively Human neighborhood. Intrigued, he asked himself, why would they choose to live in such isolation, far from their own kind—unless of course, there was a secret to hide! And so, he had skulked along the high, garden walls and lain flat on his belly on the limbs of the trees, overlooking their home; searching for the secret his instincts told him he would find.

Through mouthfuls of gooey peanut butter and jelly, he told of how he had watched for days, until finally, one evening, his patience was rewarded. A dark, dank, ill-formed creature had arisen from the depths of a tranquil garden pond. It had placed upon a baby’s rattle, a benediction or a curse; he knew not which, but if the creature’s hideous form spoke to its purpose, it was certain to be the latter!

Next, he told them about the Naming Ceremony (omitting only the Wizard’s name, to guard against Bartholeumous’ wrath). And finally, he told them how his bargain with the cunning Faires had gone awry and landed him in their employ.

Farley, Fiona and Yap listened, wide-eyed, without comment; devouring their sandwiches without tasting them, so intent were they on the Bungaree’s tale. When it was done, their appetite for both intrigue and sustenance were sated. The children sagged back, against the generous trunk of the old pine tree.

“So, because of the curse on my rattle, the Wizard couldn’t see my Quest,” Fiona mused. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing a rattle in with my baby things.”

Tom shrugged. “It was just cheap plastic, in the shape of a little, blue elephant. Not expensive or gilded, not at all elegant. Nothing special in any way. Besides, the Wizard took it away.”

“Hey,
I
had a blue elephant rattle when
I
was a baby,” Farley piped up.

“Amazing,” Tom said wryly. “Humans have quite the knack for mass production. Most likely, every kid in the neighborhood had one.”

“Maybe, but why would Fiona have a
blue
rattle?” Farley asked.

“Huh?” said Tom.

“You know, blue for boys and pink for girls,” Farley explained. “All of
my
baby stuff is blue and all of Fiona’s is pink. It’s in our baby pictures.”

“Must be a Human thing,” Tom replied, dismissively. “Anyway, pink or blue, because of that cursed rattle, we haven’t got a clue. And
that
could be a problem, because unless I have mis-guessed, we are smack-dab-in-the-middle, of an honest-to-goodness Quest!”

Farley and Fiona’s eyes widened, while Yap gasped and leapt to his feet.

“Wait’ll I tell my mom an’ dad!” The young Gr-r-rog began to skip about, singing merrily. “A Que-est, a Que-est, I’m goin’ onna Que-est! A Que-est, a Que-est, I’m goin’ onna Que-est…”

Tom reached out to grab his arm. “Quests are serious business, not exactly fun. Especially since we don’t know what we’re up against, with
this
one!”

Yap sat with a plop, but his whole body quivered with the effort of sitting still. He continued to chant under his breath, in a childish sing-song; “I’m goin’ onna Que-est, a Que-est, a Que-est…”

“Is it
my
Quest?” Fiona asked breathlessly, eyes bright.

Tom shrugged. “Who else’s could it be? We’re no Heroes, Yap an’ me. And Farley here, is a
Human
, dontcha see?”

Farley frowned as he felt a brief surge of resentment. Why
couldn’t
Humans be Heroes, or Wizards? But, as before, he swallowed his pride and set his feelings aside.

“You said there were signs we’re on a Quest. Whadja mean?” he asked instead.

“Well, the fact that you kids gave all the grown-ups the slip, for one. With the Faires and Bartholeumous, that’s not easily done. Also, Quests tend to draw in certain folks, to help see it through. Amorphae are quite handy in that regards, and you’ve got two! And finally, there’s Fiona, hearing
The Lady’s
Voice. That would be the clincher, if I had a choice.”