Eavesdropper

Prologue Stories: Another Failed Potion,  Prehistoric, Play Dead, Eye of Newt, Had We Just

True chaos happens when misunderstanding is delivered with a healthy dose of blame. Ruin Wretched was uncontainable. Her sharp tongue was vicious.

“No leg of lizard! No eye of newt!, No toe of frog!”

Not one to hold back, Ruin hurled cruel insults and barbs at each of her brothers. “Crazy, Dazy, and Lazy” were taken aback and silenced, much like when their mother, Gretchen Wretched, delivered her toxic words. The looks on their downcast faces were pitiful.

Exhausted, Ruin ran out of steam and stopped yelling. All fell quiet in the buzzard camp except for a munching sound that came from across the pond.

“What do we do now?”

“Hide. Mom’s gonna kill us.”

[Munch, munch munch]

“I second running away.”

[Munch, munch munch]

“Me, too,” said the third brother.

The realization that they had lost their captives, their mother’s ingredients, was terrifying.

“Shut up!” said Ruin. “We’re going to fan out. You,” pointing at Rage, “get a lizard! You, a newt, and you, Crazy”, turning to Rotten, “another frog! And keep it in the bag! No more letters! I’ll get the Owlet.”

“What about the Unicorn?” asked Reck

[munch, munch, munch, munch, munch, munch]

“What on earth is that noise?” said Rage. The munching suddenly stopped. The buzzards looked across the pond. Nothing. Just rocks and foliage.

Prehistoric

After the buzzards took flight, Prehistoric relaxed. Having a long, grey neck that looked like a tree trunk was handy. He resumed eating [munch, munch] and pondered. He saw the daring escape of the little green frog and orange newt. Saw the swim across the pond. Heard about the scavenger hunt and the ingredients list. It was time to find his dad, Duncan.

Duncan

Jack

Newt

The little green frog and orange newt were well away before the buzzards had noticed they were gone. They moved as quickly as possible. Jack was used to travelling, but Newt, he had been injured in the kidnapping. Though they rested frequently, they were still making good time and put distance between them and the buzzard camp, en route to Old Edgar’s place in the Southern Dale.

Old Edgar

Old Edgar was a psychic and healer, and of course, knew they were coming. He made a place for them to stay. Upon arrival, Newt was bandaged, put to bed with a broth soup and elderflower cookies. Cuddling a hot water bottle, he fell fast asleep. Though Jack stayed the night, he would leave in the morning. Old Edgar knew Jack had to go. Wandering was in the Spring Peeper’s blood.

“Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Would you like some direction?”

Jack smiled and nodded. Relieved at the offer of assistance. For he had been on his own for so long.

“That path,” said Edgar, turning and pointing to a dense shade-covered trail. “It heads North-East. Lots of flowers. An old friend will meet you at the end. I’ll take care of Newt and get him back to Flip-Flop.”

Edgar handed Jack a lunch sack. His gentle and kind manner was a poultice for his weary soul. Jack thanked him and wiped away the moisture under his eyes. He made his way to the start of the path. Turning back, he noticed many paths all leading in different directions. He looked at Edgar, whose smile deepened the crinkles in his old eyes. They were filled with merriment and knowledge. A respectful nod to Jack, and with that, Jack disappeared into the dense brush heading North-East.

 Stay tuned for another exciting chapter of Another Failed Potion!