Bumblestook: Book 1, The Accidental Wizard (34 page)

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Authors: Sheri McClure-Pitler

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BOOK: Bumblestook: Book 1, The Accidental Wizard
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Farley had fallen while holding fast to the compass rock, Chip. One of its sides had cut into the soft flesh of his palm. He dropped the rock, staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the bright red liquid that welled up to fill the gash in his hand.

“I
am
hurt,” he said, his voice filled wonder, as Yap whined at the sight of his master’s blood.

“Don’t worry,” Farley quickly reassured him. “It’ll disappear in a sec, just like it always does.”

But the seconds ticked by, and it
didn’t
disappear. In fact, it seemed to get worse.

As Fiona and Farley shared a troubled look, Ranger Gary realized their concern over the slight wound was far more worrisome than the injury itself.

“What does it mean?” the boy asked, genuinely bewildered.

“It means you cut yourself, that’s all!” Tom hustled forward impatiently, pushing the others aside to grab Farley’s hand. “Here, let
me
take a look at that paw.” He examined it closely, giving it a poke while Farley winced. “S’ nuthin!” he declared. “No need to boo-hoo.
I’ll
fix you up—good as new. Now, who’s got some clean cloth? Just a scrap will do.”

Ranger Gary pulled forth a white handkerchief from his shirt pocket; coaxing a giggle out of Farley, when one-after-another emerged—a corny Human Magician’s trick, but at least it lightened the boy’s mood! Impatiently, the Bungaree snatched at the first one. It came loose with a flutter; the rest promptly recoiling back into the ranger’s pocket, with a loud “Thwap!”

As Farley laughed, Tom quickly set about cleaning the wound.

The boy hissed in sudden pain. “It
hurts
,” he cried out in surprise.

“Well of
course
it hurts—it’s
supposed
to! That teaches you to be careful of what you do!” Tom chided. “Gimme another one of those hankies,” he called out to Ranger Gary. “And none of your tricks, this time—just one will do fine.”

In no time at all, the Bungaree had Farley’s hand wrapped up (“Just right! Not too loose, not too tight”). The immediate crisis was over, but the incident had taken its toll. The Wizard noticed that Farley looked drained, his usual exuberance snuffed, like a flame. The Gr-r-rog anxiously shadowed the boy’s every move, while the Bungaree watched him through slitted eyes. Even Fiona’s certainty seemed somewhat shaken.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m plumb-tuckered out,” Ranger Gary declared. “Not as spry as you young folk! There’s a flat space up ahead with a nice little lake. What do you say we all rest up there?”

Fiona nodded, with a flicker of relief. Farley retrieved the compass rock and they moved on. The boy, however, favored his right leg and Ranger Gary could see that his footprint, in the soft mud along the stream, showed definite signs of a limp.

Shortly thereafter, the path leveled off as the stream expanded into a lake, surrounded by tall, pine trees. Tom and Yap ran ahead, quickly changed forms and plopped down in the shade, but Farley, eyes glued to the granite compass, continued on down to the water’s edge. He would have absent-mindedly walked straight into the lake, had not Fiona hurried forward and pulled him back.

“Look, the path goes right in the water,” he said, frowning as he held out the rock with its row of twinkling lights.

“They must have taken a boat across,” said Ranger Gary, who had found a large boulder with a nice flat surface, set back a-ways from the lake. “Why don’t you kids come on over here and have a snack and rest up. Then we’ll put on our thinking caps and figure out what to do next.”

The children joined him on the big rock, Fiona leaping up with the grace of a gazelle, Farley scrambling up after. The girl wisely rationed out small, bite-sized pieces of cheese and sips from their last bottle of water. Tom and Yap quickly devoured their pitiful portions; staring woefully, as the others nibbled the meager snack down to the last little bits. Then, the members of the Quest proceeded to “rest up” as Ranger Gary had counseled.

Silence fell over the little group as each pursued their own separate thoughts.

The Bungaree stretched out on his back, gazing at the sky, whiskers and tail atwitch as his mind churned over recent events. His natural curiosity and penchant for puzzles, told him there was something more to be discovered. He knew he was missing something. It niggled and teased, far off in a corner of his mind, but disappeared every time he went looking. He was sure it had something to do with the boy. The kid was a walking disaster and yet (until just recently) he had somehow managed to escape the usual childhood bruises and scrapes. On the other hand, while it could certainly be said there
was
something very out-of-the-ordinary about Farley, the notion that he might actually be a
Wizard
was absurd! What was it the boy had said about that blasted blue rattle…

Yap lay on his belly, sharp little chin cushioned on folded arms, eyes lazily following a trail of ants, marching by in front of his nose. He wondered idly where the tiny insects were going and what fine adventures they had shared. His eyes became droopy, then closed altogether, as he slipped into a euphoric dream state; imagining his homecoming, from a wildly successful Quest. At the forefront of a cheering crowd, stood his parents, waiting to welcome him back into the comfort of their bear-like arms.

“That’s my boy!” His father boomed, his broad, furry chest puffed with pride. His mother smiled tremulously, dabbing at the corner of a tearful eye; clutching a dainty handkerchief in one, huge, hairy paw and waving wildly with the other.

Beside him walked his best friend in the whole wide world, whose life he had saved countless times during the course of their Quest. Yap’s tail wagged happily and his mouth stretched into a silly grin as, deep in the heart of his dream, he looked up into the openly admiring face of Farley Bumblestook…

Ranger Gary put on a pair of black sunglasses and sat, arms folded, gazing up at the jagged skyline formed by the tops of the mighty pines. Unbeknownst to the others, twin blue-white flames flickered in his eyes, as he replayed the morning’s events against the inner surface of the lenses; watching as if in a darkened movie theatre. He was looking for clues to the source of the strange Humanchild’s power. His eyes narrowed, as he inspected every detail of the events leading up to the failure of the Meeting of the Minds Spell.

At first glance, the spell appeared to be working as expected. The boy had been drawn in by his Heart’s Desire; the belief that perhaps he
could
be a real Wizard, despite being Human. Ranger Gary watched as Farley leaned forward eagerly. The invisible bond sprang into being, connecting him to the Wizard, who had given wings to his hopes and dreams. The boy began to sway as his consciousness sped down the beam, racing toward the whirlpool, which only he could see. This part of the spell (designed to unlock the natural barriers to ones innermost thoughts) seemed to be proceeding perfectly.

Then, just when the child
should
have fallen completely under his spell, the Wizard saw himself falter in pain and jerk back; causing the beam to disconnect and spell to dissipate.

Ranger Gary nodded with satisfaction. He had found what he’d been looking for. A mere millisecond before he’d been hit (with a lightning-like jolt to his temples) a brief flicker of lava-red flame had appeared, in the dark, brown eyes of Farley Bumblestook.

Fiona lay back on the broad flat rock, staring up the sky and thinking about her Quest. She wasn’t at all bothered by the fact that she hadn’t a clue, as regards her duties as a Hero. She was born to lead a Quest and lead a Quest is exactly what she would do!

Still
, it would be nice if one had even the
tiniest
inkling as to what to expect. She closed her
eyes; trying to visualize what might lie around the bend, down the path, or across the lake. This proved rather difficult, as she was somewhat lacking in imagination, having never really felt the need to develop one.

Besides that, the turbulent emotions, emanating from the boy sitting next to her, were a constant distraction. A tiny crease appeared, in the precise middle of her brows, as she tried to concentrate. Finally, she gave up, glancing sideways at her best friend and wondering
what in blue blazes was going on with Farley

Farley sat, with his knees pulled up to his chin and his arms clasped tightly around his shins; staring glumly at the water and chewing on his bottom lip. He had stubbornly refused to take off his backpack and relax. It’s hunched silhouette enhanced the image of a boy with burdens too great to bear. He had placed Chip behind him, so that he wouldn’t have to look at the little lights; twinkling cheerfully, pointing repeatedly, at the dark, smooth surface of the lake. The stinging cut on his hand and the painful throbbing of his leg were as difficult to ignore as a barrelful of screeching monkeys!

Worse, was the dark mood that had descended over him, like a thick woolen blanket. He couldn’t seem to shake it off. He was just beginning to realize how much his Super-Invincible Power (as he had come to think of it) had meant to him. Up until now, he had faced the world unafraid, supremely confident that nothing could harm him. Now, he knew that even the slightest stumble, slip, or fall (of which he was sure to experience many more) could have painful results. Suddenly, the world seemed like a giant booby-trap, full of sharp corners and jagged surfaces. As he sat thus, steeped in misery, a small, inner voice seemed to speak to him.

“What good are you, anyway,” the insidious voice asked. “You can’t do anything without your Super Invincible Power! Your best friend is some kinda Hero, Ranger Gary’s a Wizard—heck, even your
dog
can do magic!”

Farley’s head sank lower between his hunched shoulders, as he tried to muster a response. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “So what if I’m not magic, I still hafta save Mom and Dad—”


You?
What can
you
do? You’re just a clumsy
Human
!”

Farley squeezed his eyes shut tight, gritted his teeth and tried to shut out the sound of the voice. Gradually he became aware of a faint, raspy sound, coming from somewhere behind him. He raised his head to listen.

Farley Bumblestook
,
Farley Bumblestook.
It was Chip, the compass rock, tonelessly chanting
his name, over and over.

Oh, yeah! He could talk to rocks!

Or
could
he? Farley frowned and his head sunk again. Maybe he only
thought
he could talk to rocks—after all no one else could hear them. Maybe he’d just been making it up all along…

A little louder—
Farley Bumblestook, Farley Bumblestook, Farley Bumblestook

Farley ignored the call, heeding the inner voice instead.

“If no one else hears it,” the voice insisted, “there’s no proof that it’s real. You probably just imagined the whole thing.”

A small chorus now—a little louder, as more of the Earthbound chimed in—
Farley Bumblestook, Farley Bumblestook, Farley Bumblestook…

“Just ignore ‘em,” the voice persisted, as Farley’s lips tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “They’ll probably just go away.”


FARLEY BUMBLESTOOK
!”
The boulder beneath him boomed.

Startled, Farley nearly fell off the big rock. Quickly, he reached behind him to grab Chip and slid down carefully, mindful of his leg injury. Clutching the little rock in his good hand, he limped off, away from the others, turning his back on his friends.

Bringing the rock to his lips, he whispered desperately, “Leave me alone, can’tcha? You’re not even real!”

“Message—from Big Grey,”
the little rock persisted.

“From Big Grey? What did he say?” Farley responded eagerly, quickly forgetting his resolve to ignore all talking rocks.

“Farley—must—go—”

“Go? Go where? Where should I go?” Farley interrupted, his usual patience, with the slow speech of the Earthbound, worn thin.

“Water. Must—go—to—water,”
said Chip.

“Huh—?”

Farley looked at the lake. Its dark-green expanse was laced with golden ribbons of light; reflections of stray sunbeams, filtered through the thick, overhanging branches of the pine forest. It seemed to beckon him with mystery. Slowly, hesitantly, he limped toward the water.

Fiona raised her head to watch Farley, keenly aware of the change in his attitude, but frustratingly oblivious as to the cause. Ranger Gary looked up over the rims of his sunglasses, then removed them entirely; the better to see what this interesting Human would do next. Yap twitched and whined in his sleep, subconsciously aware that his master was on the move. Tom opened one eye lazily wondering,
what is that darn Bumblestook boy up to now

********************************

Bartholeumous stepped through the Doorway and onto the rough, stone floor of the cavernous stronghold, aptly named Heart of the Mountain. Olivia and Lance whirled about; hastening to meet him.

“What did it say? Did it tell you where Fiona is?” Lance asked anxiously.

“If the Earthbound spoke, it was not in a language that I recognized, nor in a voice attuned to my hearing,” the Wizard replied.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed and sparked dangerously. “Perhaps a sledgehammer would persuade it to speak,” she said coldly.

Lance looked beseechingly to Bartholeumous. “Surely it must have given
some
indication…”

“I did sense that a connection was made, but without confirmation, I am afraid we can do naught but await its response,” the Wizard replied.

“This is ridiculous!” Olivia snapped. “Our daughter is out there, facing who knows what kind of danger and
we’re
playing nice with a bunch of
rocks
! Well, I’m through waiting! I’m going home to call the police.”

“The
Human
police?” Lance said, aghast.

“Why not? Magic has failed!” Olivia pronounced.

“Magic
failed
? Magic
failed
?” A voice, querulous, yet strong, echoed across the cavern, accompanied by the sharp rap of a staff against stone.

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