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Good Sister, Bad Sister: Heart of the Staff
Good Sister, Bad Sister: Heart of the Staff
Good Sister, Bad Sister: Heart of the Staff
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Good Sister, Bad Sister: Heart of the Staff

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Sometimes, the people closest to you can cause the greatest harm...
Magic. Hidden Agendas. Supernatural Creatures. Sibling Rivalry.

Enter the Kingdom of Niarg in the first book of the Heart of the Staff Series, a fantasy adventure collection by husband and wife writing team, Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom Phipps.

"What I loved about this story was the author's magical ability to transport me through time into a believable world that felt like long ago."

Minuet Dewin, eldest daughter of the wizard Razzmorten, practically raised her half sister Leeuh, who was abandoned by her mother.

For many years, Minuet is Leeuh's passionate champion. As time passes, Leeuh becomes increasingly hard to defend as she grows determined to be awful at every turn.

Whilst undoing her dangerous pranks, Minuet finds herself the target of her hatred and jealousy. And when they fall for the same prince, it looks like war.

One day, Leeuh vanishes. She returns years later, compliant and sweet as she always should have been. Minuet is stunned.

Should she trust her, or will it be the very death of her?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 6, 2012
ISBN9781301656721
Good Sister, Bad Sister: Heart of the Staff
Author

Carol Marrs Phipps

My name is Carol Marrs Phipps and I am a teacher turned author. I was born in Missouri, grew up mostly in Illinois and currently reside in Illinois. My book, Elf Killers, which I wrote with my co-author and fantastic husband, Tom Phipps, was released by Hellfire Publishing on July 15. It is available as both an ebook and paperback and is now currently Indie Publishedby Tom and me. We now also have the first four books in our Epic Fantasy series Heart of the Staff available in eBook and paperback formats available to purchase.Tom and I spent the lion's-share of our teaching careers in the Southwest U.S. (Arizona, New Mexico and Nevada) on different Native American Reservations. I believe we learned as much from our students as they did from us and a large number of them became the first dedicated fans of our stories. We are currently full-time writers.Not long after Tom and I married, I discovered to my joy, that he, too, loved to write. We have been writing together ever since. We are currently working on the 5th book in our epic fantasy series, Heart of the Staff, and have already completed the first four books. We expect to complete the saga with another one or two books. The first four books of this series are: Good Sister, Bad Sister, The Collector Witch, Stone Heart and The Burgeoning. We hope to publish the 5th book sometime in January 2013.

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  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    In this fantasy tale, the good wizard Razzmorten has raised his two daughters, Minuet and Ugleeuh, at Peach Knob, a country farm near the kingdom of Niarg. Minuet is a sweet, caring soul, while her half-sister is vain, petty and conceited. On Ugleeuh's eighteenth birthday, Razzmorten is distracted by a black plague that has begun to spread death across the northern continent and must leave via his magic scrying ball to the dark continent to quickly find the cure. Ugleeuh, feeling rejected as is her usual nature, is enticed by Razzorbauch, Razzmorten's evil twin brother, to leave Peach Knob for his keep next to the Chokewood Forest on his promise to introduce her to the mother that had abandoned her on birth, Demonica. Razzorbauch also has plans to include Ugleeuh in his business of growing and selling sukere, an addictive sugar drug, throughout the northern continent. The tale is full of kingdoms, dragons, wizardry, elves, unicorns and talking ravens, but does feel bereft of a grand quest or bold moments of battle between the good and evil forces that tends to separate fantasy from other forms of fiction. In reading this, it is best to bookmark the appendix to quickly look up some of the Niargian and Elven language created for this tale.

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Good Sister, Bad Sister - Carol Marrs Phipps

Good Sister,

Bad Sister

Carol Marrs Phipps

&

Tom Phipps

Good Sister,

Bad Sister

Carol Marrs Phipps

&

Tom Phipps

Copyright © 2018 by Carol Marrs Phipps & Tom Phipps

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Good Sister, Bad Sister is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, incidents and organizations are a product of the authors' imaginations and are used fictitiously.

Cover art by Marija Vilotijevic

Our Website:

http://www.niarg.com

To my two beautiful daughters, Kim Minus and Tonya Keller, good sister, good sister

&

To the Old Man Tree and to Mom and Dad, wherever they be.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Appendix

Chapter 1

Happy birthday! cried Wizard Razzmorten with a grand whirl of his cape, leaving a round wooden box with a gawking baby parrot sitting on the board by the cake.

What is that thing, Father?

Why a popinjay, dear. They're almost impossible to come by...

It's all pinfeathers. You surely don't intend for it to actually be my gift, do you?

Well it's right young, Leeuh, he said. When you start with them at that age, they can actually be talking to you before they're quite a year old.

Not if I drown it first...

Lee-Lee! cried her sister. You don't mean that! What an awful way to treat your Father...

Oh go on! He surely knows better. Here I am, still waiting for you to serve me, and he runs up and plops down this dirty box full of muslin, fowl and green poop, right where I was expecting my cake. And by the way, dearest Minuet, just how long are you going to stand there with my saucer in your hand? It is my birthday, don't you know. And since that thing in the box is my birthday gift, I certainly get to drown it.

Don't you dare! said Minuet. I'll take it if you don't want it...

Please! said Razzmorten, throwing up his hands. Let's you and I take the morning tomorrow and find you something special in the market, or if you know of something better just...

Ugleeuh wasn't listening. You can have the stinking popinjay, Minuet, if you give me my cake before it slides off the saucer.

You mean it?

Sure sister dear. The cake now, and it's yours, but you'll still owe me.

So how would that be, Leeuh? said Razzmorten as he slowly sat on the bench beside her.

What? she said, suddenly peering sweetly at him.

The market, dear. What do you say? A lost look passed across her face as she hooked her raven black hair behind an ear.

We spend the morning tomorrow and find you something.

She tapped at a tooth with her finger. Maybe, she said, so long as it's not something else stupid.

Now, he said with a nod of resolution, shall we finally have this wonderful cake that Minuet baked for your birthday supper?

At that moment there came a knock at the open dining room door. I regret the intrusion, sir, said the hired man, but there's a Captain Strong here from Castle Niarg with something urgent. Shall I...?

By all means, said Razzmorten, yanking his napkin from his collar as he got to his feet. By the time he had turned about, the captain was in the room.

Good evening, Karlton. So what's up at the castle?

A matter, sir, that needs to be discussed in private, I'm afraid.

Alarmed by the captain's haunted look, Razzmorten quickly showed him to a sitting room at the far end of the hall, leaving Minuet and Ugleeuh to eat their cake.

I was hoping it was Razzorbauch, said Ugleeuh, licking icing from between her fingers. At least he's capable of giving decent gifts. But it only turned out to be this rude captain...

Rude? said Minuet. I'd think something awful has happened by the look of him.

He should have at least acknowledged us with a polite nod. We are ladies after all.

It was urgent, Lee-Lee.

Ugleeuh curled her lip and took a bite of cake.

Down the hall, Razzmorten offered a chair to Captain Strong.

The captain shook his head. I have saddled unicorns waiting for each of us.

My word, what's happened?

King Henry has sent for you. Princess Branwen...

The one who's to be Prince Hebraun's betrothed?

Yea. Princess Branwen's retainer came yestereve with some kind of message about all that, but he arrived with a fever. This morning he awoke with two big knots on his neck, just below his jaw...

Fates!

Yes indeed. And it's all got right personal for me, you might say. I mean my own brother, Awstin, saw him to his room and now he's shaking something awful with the fever.

So what am I to do?

King Henry wants you to come have a look at both of them.

Razzmorten went wide eyed. I'm no physician. Doesn't the Throne have a couple of doctors?

Yes sir, and they've each declared that the retainer and Awstin have the plague.

So why am I examining them?

The king says that if anyone alive would have the magic to turn the plague, it would be you, sir.

Razzmorten gave a great sigh as he removed his hat to run his fingers through his hair. I'll go tell my girls, he said as he replaced his hat and gave a nod. Meet me at the stable."

They were underway at a canter with scarcely a word between them. Lightning winked in the towering wall of clouds to the west. By the time they reached the road, they were at a pounding gallop which they kept up the entire four miles to Castle Niarg. The rain was drenching the walls of the castle in sheets as they tramped inside the echoing hallway, flinging water. As they came to the room of Princess Branwen's retainer, they were startled at the sight of a figure wearing a leather bird mask and a full length cloak of waxed linen step out the door with a short stick and a smoldering pot of incense.

Ah, Razzmorten, said the figure in a muffled voice, as he removed his glove to shake hands. I'm Doctor Pryce...

I'm sorry, but we're not going to shake your hand, said Razzmorten, taking a step backwards. How is the patient?

Just now deceased, I'm afraid, he said as he took his mask by the beak and removed it. We were expecting you. I've a clean suit like this one, if you wish to examine him.

I don't see the point, said Razzmorten. We both know it's the plague. How's Awstin?

He's already developing large buboes behind his knees and in his armpits.

Where is he? said the captain.

Still in his room, one storey down.

The captain started for the stairs at once.

Karlton! hollered Razzmorten. I'm coming with you.

I have that suit... said Doctor Pryce.

Just stay right where you are, if you would, Doctor, said Razzmorten, breaking into a sprint for the stairwell. A dozen steps down, he overtook the captain. Wait!

I'm sorry. I must see him.

Stop! cried Razzmorten, pinning him against the wall. Listen to me! If you go in there, I'm certain you'll die. He'll be too far gone to even know you're in there...

The captain tore himself away from Razzmorten's grasp and jogged down a step.

Damn it Karlton! Niarg needs you!

The captain stopped short and nodded. I'm sorry sir, he said, turning away as he blinked his wet eyes. What do you think I should do?

Do I need to see the king or do you reckon I could leave here this minute? There's somewhere I'm certain I need to be.

I can tell him it's urgent...

Then by all means do. But listen. Those doctors are dead men. I'm sure of it. Did you go to Awstin's bedside after he took sick?

No. I was sent to fetch you.

Good! Then we both might live. Listen. Make those doctors stay where they are. Don't let anyone get within three or four rod of them. And don't let anyone touch or move any dead bodies, no matter how they might get to stinking. Got that?

Karlton nodded, quite wide eyed.

I'll be back before a fortnight. And with that, Razzmorten vanished down the stairs.

***

Minuet dried her hands in a wad of apron and sat down with a sigh in front of the doddering baby parrot. You're curious, little bright eyes, she said as she carefully tried a scratch of the pin feathers on his head. Why, you're not afraid of me at all. And all this excitement, all this hubbub. Why, nasty old Lee-lee wanted to drown you. Will you let me pick you up? Oh, you're going to! You're brave, little Hubbub. That's just what we'll call you... She looked up with a start to find Razzmorten taking a seat beside her.

Leeuh's not here?

No Father, she said as she rocked Hubbub in her arms like a wee babe. I think she's having a bath, but she wanted me to leave the cake out. What happened at Castle Niarg? You look like you've seen a ghost.

I nearly have, something dreadful out of the vapors, anyway, he said, standing up and stepping back over the bench. I'm sorry, but I simply can not discuss this until I've returned. I can't imagine that you'll be in any danger. You'll be safe...

So where are you going?

I'm traveling by spell, so you can see that it's urgent, but to say just where would be discussing it, he said, giving her a squeeze and a peck on the cheek. I'd allow that I'll be back in time to take Leeuh, tomorrow, but if I'm not, don't worry if I'm gone for as much as two weeks. I'm leaving from my study. Goodbye, and say goodbye to Leeuh for me. He turned away at once and disappeared 'round the corner.

Right, said Ugleeuh, sauntering in in her nightgown. And the old fool isn't telling you because he doesn't trust his own birthday girl...

Leeuh! How can you say such a vile thing about your own father?

Easy, sweetheart. He's gone and you won't have the heart to tell him out of consideration for his feelings.

Minuet gave a growl of exasperation, gently put Hubbub back into his box and began pacing the kitchen. I can't believe you, Lee-Lee. He was so excited about your birthday, and he went to so much trouble to get that bird...

And to think: he still couldn't do any better for my birthday than he did, she said as she plopped down in Razzmorten's seat at the head of the board and drug her finger through the icing on the cake. But get this. Stuck up little Princess Branwen is probably dying of the plague as we speak. Isn't that great? So I still might have a chance at Hebraun after all...

What are you talking about? You're not royalty. You have no chance in the world...

Well not if Princess Branwen makes it...

What are you talking about? What makes you think Branwen has the plague?

Well her stupid retainer's got it. That's what Yum-Bum Karlton came and got the old man for. He's on his death bed with it at the castle. So wouldn't Brannew have it by now? I mean she could, couldn't she? At least one could hope...

That's awful! I don't care who she is, how could you ever want her dead?

Easy, Minny-Min. She's most inconvenient...

And how dare you eavesdrop! What else did you find out?

That I have a goody two shoes sister...

No! What else did you overhear?

Here, said Ugleeuh as she smacked her lips and pushed the platter across the board. You need some cake. You're supposed to be celebrating my birthday.

Minuet crossed her arms with a sigh, studying her half-sister.

Sit, said Ugleeuh. You're hair's red enough without the rest of you being on fire.

Plague, said Minuet, giving in and having a seat. That's really awful. What else? Why did they get Father?

Why would you want to know if it's so terrible for me to eavesdrop? Aren't you too good for any of this? And why is the plague any concern of yours? Our old man's a wizard.

"You think that magic will help? Don't you know that the First Wizard died of the plague?

Pooh, Min-Min. The Crown wants Father to stop the plague with his magic, so somebody knows it can be done. And if it's too much for our dear father, that's probably where he's gone. He's probably off to see Uncle Razzorbauch for some real magic. And if he'd taken me, maybe I'd have gotten some kind of decent birthday present.

***

Razzmorten appeared in the moonlight amongst the tall basaltic rocks of Demonica's keep on Head (or Pennvro). He clambered about with his staff, listening to the pounding surf far below as he paused here and there to feel for the presence of magical wards and protections set by Demonica. Well, Razzorbauch's not here, he said. He removed his hat, and for a time stood with his face fixed into the breeze, feeling the air. At last he found a place amongst a tumbled colonnade of stones and went to sleep until morning.

Just before the sun, he awoke to find himself in the midst a colony of very agitated puffins. He was on his feet at once, clambering up the rocks. The towers of her castle rose behind the crown of the great barren prominence as he climbed. There was no drawbridge. Her portcullis was up, in fact it was unlikely to have been closed that night. He could definitely detect magical wards, but none laid for someone afoot. He walked right in. He found her reading a letter as she sat in her great scarlet and white chair on the dais, legs crossed, having egg in a hole and tea.

She looked up with a gasp.

Good morning, he said.

Good thing you explained that, she said. I'd never have considered any morning 'good' which had you standing in the middle of it. Now how would you like for me to arrange your death?

Oh go on, Dee! We both know better. I'm not here to arrest you. You made that more difficult than it would ever be worth years ago. And besides, I stepped in here fully prepared to turn your head into a cinder at the first sign of trouble. I'm only here for a brief chat.

You went to a good deal of trouble.

Well, yes. Years ago, you told me that you knew of a tribe of heathens (as I believe you called them) who were supposed to have gotten through the plague which killed the First Wizard without any deaths at all. Do you remember anything about that?

Well no, dear. It's very difficult indeed to recall anything at all for the likes of you or Niarg. Does anyone there have the plague?

I have, said Razzmorten as though he were merely speaking of tickets in his pocketbook, and now you have it as well. So if you wish me to come back and cure you, it might be best if your memory returned."

With a yowl, the snow white cat sitting in Demonica's lap shot across the throne room and vanished. Demonica stared off into the distance for a moment. Ngop, she said, heaving out a sigh. The Ngop, 'way down the west coast, here. The plague simply decimated everyone throughout the continent, everyone except the Ngop. It's said that they came out of it completely untouched. Down the coast. Talk to their shaman. I think he goes by Ngerrk-ga. And talk to their chief, Dort-da.

Ngerrk-ga! cried Razzmorten. I know him. He and Dort-da were the Aboriginals I once met at the Hanter Koadou. They mightn't have worn clothes, but they were well respected.

Well, you've managed to disarm me, Razzmorten. You always did have your skilled moments. Do me a favor. If you were indeed telling the truth, would you be so kind as to return with the cure? My cat needs someone to feed her.

Chapter 2

Razzmorten appeared on a lonely beach amongst the cries of terns, just as a wave soaked his feet, sending small snails vanishing into the sand as it rushed back to sea. A beached jellyfish glistened in the mid-morning sun. He stepped away from the water and scooped up a double handful of shells to admire for a moment before squinting under his hand at the arid hills of white limestone dotted with grey shrubs which lay inland. He pulled out his scrying ball from his shoulder bag and squatted in the sand to stare into it, shaded by the brim of his pointed hat. At once he was underway through the marram grass, making straight for the hills. By the time the sun was overhead, he had crossed over three great ridges of hills. A savannah sparrow called nearby.

He paused to mop his brow and look about as he felt of the ball in his bag. Maybe I need another peek, he said. Suddenly he held his breath. Could that be children?

A pebble skittered across the rocks at his feet, just as he spied a curly haired head slipping behind some rocks. He heard hushed giggling. "Hello?' he hollered.

There was dead silence.

Hello? Is someone there?

Mamin! cried a brave naked boy, prancing into view.

Mamin! Mamin! shouted another, Dirdawung, mamin lamang gahan!

Menuny mamin mawu ga-yu-ma wutjjurrh-ma! cried a girl, taller than the others, leaping to her feet.

Soon there were eight naked children dancing around him, just out of reach, chanting sing-song: Ma-min...ma-min...ma-min... After a bit of this, they took turns crying: Mamin! as they leaped forth to tug at his clothes and jump back as if he would bite.

I say, cried Razzmorten, looking 'round about, would you all be Ngop?

The children broke out in such laughter that they could scarcely stay on their feet.

If you all are Ngop, could you take me to Dort-da? he said, nodding with wide eyes of encouragement.

At this, a middle-sized girl with the merriest eyes of all dashed up and began yanking and pulling on his arm.

He followed her at once. Up through the next ridge of hills they led him, pattering through the dust and rocks, until they came to a wide dusty valley. The merry eyed girl kept a relentlessly tight grip on his hand, pulling him along through the dust and shrubs as they came to scattered acacia trees with ruminating cows bedded down everywhere in the shade. He could see low domed mud huts in the thickest of the trees. At the far end of them against the rocks of a limestone bluff was a whitewashed hut, larger than all the others. They hurried with him, straight up to it. Dort-da! Dort-da! they shouted. And the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the hut's triangular door without a child in sight.

As he was glancing here and there at the paintings of animals chasing each other across the breadth of the whitewash, trying to gather his thoughts, Dort-da stepped into the light, adjusting his long gourd cod piece. For a moment he looked as though he had been asleep. Suddenly he smiled. Razzmorten! he cried. It's been ages since Hanter Koadou. Come inside.

Razzmorten removed his hat and followed Dort-da inside, finding that ducking was scarcely enough to navigate a triangular doorway. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Why, it's as cool as a cellar in here, he said.

Sit here, said Dort-da, giving a slap to one of several fat rolls of blankets on the floor in front of a great chair made of cow bones. He sat in the chair and crossed his legs. He clapped his hands and a girl clad only in a skirt appeared with a jug of water and two large cow horns. He took the first drink and nodded at Razzmorten. What brings you here?

It wasn't too many years before our meeting at Hanter Koadou that there was a great plague which swept through the Dark Continent...

Douar-Noz might be better, said Dort-da. The house of Dark hadn't taken over yet.

Certainly, said Razzmorten carefully. So, when the plague swept through Douar-Noz, of course, it killed thousands upon untold thousands of people, including my progenitor, the First Wizard, who was visiting here at the time. It killed half the people living here as well as half the people on the Northern Continent. Well, I've just heard that when the plague came, not a single Ngop died from it. Is that true?

Has the plague returned after all this time to Norz-Meurzouar?

Yes. One and by now, maybe two have died at Castle Niarg.

Who brought it? said Dort-da as he studied the backs of his hands. Do you know where it came from?

Far, said Razzmorten, keenly aware that Dort-da was being careful. The one who died just before I left was a retainer of Princess Branwen of the House of Far. I have no idea how many have died there.

I've only heard of them a time or two. Do you know if they trade with the Gwaels of Gwaremm?

The last I knew, the Gwaels made them uneasy...

We have a lot to lose Razzmorten, but you convinced me years ago at Hanter Koadou that you have a true heart. You need to see Ngerrk-ga. His dreams are strong. If he doesn't want to help you, you are not to return here until seven years after this new plague has run its course. Dort-da studied Razzmorten carefully for a moment, then clapped once more. The young woman appeared with more water. Nu-jabing-nga, he said. Razzmorten-ga-ndi lahan Ngerrk-ga.

Nu-jabing-nga quickly set down her jug. Di-nya, she said, motioning to Razzmorten with a nod. Di-nya. Waving him on, she disappeared out the door.

Razzmorten bowed to Dort-da, thanked him and hurried out into the heat and blinding light to find Nu-jabing-nga. He saw her at once, but found her even more difficult to keep up with than the children. He had to jog to catch her before she disappeared beyond the huts along the meandering path in the thorny wait-a-bit bushes that the Ngop used for fences which ran along the limestone bluff from acacia tree to acacia tree for a very long way, sticking up in the roasting heat like great parasols which gave shade to the resting cattle who languidly chewed their cuds and swished at flies, watching them pass. At last the path rose into a break in the bluff which led to an isolated mud hut, whitewashed and covered with red ochre hand prints in the shade of a pair of especially large acacias. Ngerrk-ga was out front with his back to them on his knees feeding the fire under a large kettle that he was stirring.

Nu-jabing-nga held her finger to her lips and motioned for Razzmorten to sit on the ground at Ngerrk-ga's back before grabbing her nose and dashing away, back down the path.

Ngerrk-ga went right on stirring as if no one had arrived at all, chanting quietly: Nja-min-ah... nja-min-ah... nja-min-ah... nja-min-ah...

Fates forbid! thought Razzmorten. I hope he notices me before I pass out from the smell!

***

Ugleeuh lay propped on her elbows in the close-cropped grass of the orchard on the hill behind their manor house, listening to a nearby oriole as she watched the men below with their bull rakes making windrows in the pungent hay. Sheep bells tinkled behind her. She gave a bored sigh and lay back to study the fluffy white clouds overhead in the deep blue sky, tracing their shapes with her finger.

Ta, ta-taa, ta-taa... she said as a particular cloud directly over the hay field quickly turned brooding and black. Ta, ta-taa, ta-taa... she said as the cloud began thoroughly pelting the field hands with huge drops of rain. Ya-ha! she cried, springing to her feet, furiously flinging wide her glowing fists, as a bolt of lightning connected the cloud with the big oak tree in the hayfield, blowing away a great strip of bark down its trunk. The hands ran for shelter as she squealed with delight, skipping through the grass, ending with a cartwheel.

Lee-lee! cried Minuet, spying Ugleeuh and tramping straight over to her. Don't you dare pull a stunt like that!

What? Yesterday you were so jealous of my birthday that now you're jealous of a good cartwheel?

What is the matter with you, Leeuh? That's Father's hay! Look how much you soaked! And old Mister Philpot, did you see him?

Ugleeuh nearly let slip a giggle, silencing it with a look of wounded innocence.

You little witch! He was standing so close to the tree, you singed off his hair. I sure hope he can still hear!

And you're unladylike. You stamped clean across the orchard and you're still shouting. And I don't even know what you think I'm supposed to have done...

You know very well what you did!

No, I don't!

Father's hay...!

So?

The cloud! The Rain...!

Why are you jumping on me? I don't control the weather...

You certainly don't! You meddle with it...

I did not, said Ugleeuh with a sullen growl. You're imagining everything, just like you always do, you sicky goody-goody. Besides, if I actually did do it, wouldn't I have a right to? The old man stood me up. He owed me my gift this morning, and it's 'way past noon.

Don't try it again, Leeuh.

Or what? she said, grabbing up her quilt from the grass."

"Or

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