Faery's Tale Deluxe - Etud

A Pooka’s Tale
His pumpkinish head downcast, his misshapen toes pointed inward like a
pigeon’s, Gimlock the pooka moped through the forest, brooding on the
day’s events. Thanks to his gift of second sight, he knew in advance that
his hundredth birthday would be his worst ever. And he’d had some pretty
awful birthdays, let me tell you.
This one, however, took the cake. He had only three friends at his party, and he had
warned them that they would all get into trouble trying to save a little blond-haired girl
from being kidnapped by two dark faeries and a troll. His pixie friend Willow would fall
into a monster’s nest. The brownie, Katria, would be swept away by a raging stream. And
Flynn the sprite was bound for a hag’s cookpot.
It was terrible, terrible, with no way out. And Gimlock wasn’t just thinking that because
his powers as a seer allowed him to predict only bad outcomes. After sitting down to drink
a cup of tea all by himself on his birthday, he read the leaves at the bottom. There he saw
that he could save his friends if only he had an egg, a rope, and a bag of water. But he
didn’t have an egg, a rope, or a bag of water, so all three of them were doomed! O woe,
thought Gimlock.
He walked for a long time, until he heard big footsteps coming. He hid and saw that it
was the girl, Portia, he’d seen in his vision. Wonder of wonders, she was safe! He took a
chance and called up at her.
“Portia!” he said, “You don’t know me, and I am very ugly and you probably don’t want
to look at me, but…”
She loomed over him and, with the tip of her finger, tousled his matted hair. “You must
be Gimlock. My brownie friend, Katria, told me all about you. Your friends helped me get
away but now they’re in trouble.”
Gimlock clucked his tongue. “It’s no use. To save them I need an egg, a rope, and a bag
of water. And I have none of those things.”
“I have this,” said Portia, and she produced a boiled egg from her pocket. “I’m hungry
but I didn’t want to eat it because the boggart gave it to me. And everybody knows humans
shouldn’t eat faery food.”
“Right you are,” said Gimlock. She gave it to him, and he struggled not to be bowled
over by it.
Together they walked back to her home. She said the whole adventure was like a bad
dream, especially the part where the boggart shrunk her down to faery size. She’d returned
to normal after he ran away from her.
They reached the spot where Willow had fallen into a hole, just like the vision had
predicted. The goblin was gone, but Willow was still trapped, her foot ensnared by a root.
She was about to be eaten by a monster: the hole was the nest of a garter snake.
Portia could not normally talk to animals, but the shrinking magic had funny side effects.
She took the egg, leaned over the hole, and said, “Hey, snake. You can’t eat my friend. I’ll
give you this tasty egg instead.”
The snake readily agreed, but the little girl drove a hard bargain. “And what’s that in your
nest there? A piece of rope?”
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