The Orphan and the Thief

Chapter 6: The Bewitched Beer Mug of Thieves

Spirits high, Melena and Toad set off, weaving their way through Holly-Harp Wood. But their happiness quickly faded.

"D'you know where the road is?" asked Toad.

"No," said Melena.

In their haste to flee the unicorn, they had left the creek — their only navigational aid — behind them.

"Maybe I could climb a tree..." Toad offered, peering at a colossal chestnut.

But just as Toad was testing a low branch, an angry shout cut through the forest foliage, making them turn in surprise.

"Move, you cantankerous lump of mule meat!"

Melena and Toad glanced at each other before hurrying toward the voice. Not even two minutes later they had tumbled through a thick patch of gorse and onto the winding dirt road. At once they saw the source of the shout. A purple wagon, paint faded and chipped in places, was stuck in a thick pool of mud. A doleful mule was slowly biting off tufts of grass, completely ignoring the old woman smoldering with rage before it.

"I told you to MOVE, you flea-bitten bit of dung!" the old lady screamed.

Toad laughed.

At the sound, the woman spun around, her shawls and beads whipping through the air.

"Think this is funny, do you?" she shrieked, making Melena and Toad flinch. "Get over here and help me!"

Unsure how to refuse, they walked toward her. Upon close inspection, the old woman had a grouchy, sour face that closely resembled that of a moose. With her large, bulbous nose and pouchy eyes, Melena wondered if the only expression she could physically make was a scowl.

Hazel flapped onto the wagon's roof. As Melena's eyes followed Hazel, she read the yellow painted letters upon the wagon's side:

Lady Guave

Mystical Fortuneteller

"Help me get my wagon out of this muck!" Guave commanded, pointing a bony finger at the back wheels. "I've got places to be!"

"What do we get —" Toad began, but Melena interrupted him.

"We'll be happy to help."

Toad stared at Melena in disbelief.

Together with a not enthused Toad, Melena pushed and heaved against the back of the wagon while Guave tugged upon the mule's reins. But the mule flattened his ears and planted his hooves more firmly into the ground.

"You — dratted — useless — waste of — hide —" Guave panted, yanking with all her might.

Red-faced and sweating, Melena glanced up to see Hazel's bright eyes peering down at her in puzzlement.

"Don't just sit there staring at me! Do something, Hazel," Melena panted.

Perhaps Hazel felt a tiny bit of guilt for ignoring Melena's furious orders before, though Melena doubted it. Thankfully, Hazel's favorite pastime was startling unsuspecting victims. With a whip of her long tail, she disappeared from sight, scurrying along the wagon's roof to the stubborn mule. She inhaled deeply and let out a great burst of flame that shot past the mule's ears.

The mule screamed. With a great lurch, the wagon was yanked out of the mud and bounded onto the dirt road. Lady Guave barely managed to get out of the way of flaying hooves, tumbling over sideways and sprawling onto the road in a heap, her shawls a tangle.