could never kill anything.”
But Bushmaster hopped forward, picked up the spear, and tried a couple of jabs. He began laughing at his newfound sense of power. “I want one!” he said. “We don’t really have to kill things. We could just use them to scare monsters off.”
“I never thought of that,” Vervane admitted. “Maybe I could use one.”
“Me, too!” the younger voles all cried.
In seconds, the voles were crowding around Ben, talking excitedly, making plans to search every home in the neighborhood for weapons.
They gaped at the walnut shell on Ben’s head. “What’s that for?” one asked.
“It’s a helmet,” Ben said. “It protects your head. A cat would have a hard time biting through it.”
One vole touched it, and the walnut shell popped off of Ben’s head.
Ben looked down at it sadly. “It keeps coming off. If I had a knife, I’d whittle on it until it fit. I’d make it look cool, like a scary skull with teeth and stuff!”
Amber went to Ben and picked up the walnut shell. She imagined the scariest thing she could—the walnut shell carved to look like bone, with holes for Ben’s eyes and ears and teeth wrapping down over his jaws to hold the helmet on. Immediately, the walnut shell took the new form. The voles all squeaked in fear and backed away.
“A princely helm for a princely mouse,” Amber said.
“Cool,” Ben said, slapping it on.
With a wave of her paw, Amber gathered all of the needles from Ben’s house and let them form in the air. They dropped at the feet of the voles. “A present,” she said. “Here are weapons for all of you, so that Domino the cat will learn to fear the small creatures of the world!”
“Yay!” the voles all cried as they selected their weapons. “Hooray for Amber! Hooray for Ben!”
“So how far is the pet shop?” Amber asked Ben as the voles continued to cheer. “And which way do we go?”
“The sun rises in the east,” Ben said. “All we have to do is follow it.”
“Great!” Amber said. “What’s the sun?”
“You know,” Ben said in exasperation, “they really should have let you out of your cage more often.”
Bushmaster hopped close to Ben. “Between your weapons and her spells, nothing can stop us. All we have to do is get both of you to the pet shop, and you’ll be human in no time.”
“Wait a minute,” Ben suddenly asked Bushmaster, “are you coming too?”
“It’s the least I can do,” Bushmaster said. “You saved my life. Besides, six eyes watching for monsters are better than four. And now I have a spear!”
Old Vervane laughed. “Bushmaster always was the adventurous one. He knows every backyard from here to the end of the block.”
Somehow, the news that Bushmaster would come made Amber feel better. Bushmaster was only a vole, but he was a wild vole, and he knew how to travel through dangerous country filled with monsters that she’d never dreamed of.
The voles began shouting farewells, and with that, Bushmaster picked up his spear and led the way from the burrow.
“Travel safely,” the young girl Meadowsweet called. “Come back soon.”
“Thank you,” Amber told her. “I’d love to.”
Ben dropped the magic light-stone, muttering, “We’ll have to leave this. It would only attract attention.”
Amber threaded her way out of the burrow, just behind Bushmaster, and glanced back longingly at her magic lights. They dimmed as she left.
At their backs, the youngest voles teased, “Good-bye, mice! Good-bye, stinky mice!” They giggled and rolled on the floor while their older kin gathered up the spears.
* * *
At the top of the burrow, Ben took the lead. It was still dark, with just a hint of light. The scents of trees and bushes and moist earth clung to the ground. Ben climbed from the hole and shoved aside a young fern that spiraled up out of the humus. He trudged forward blindly into the pre-dawn gloom with spear in hand.
“What are you doing?” Bushmaster cried in
But Bushmaster hopped forward, picked up the spear, and tried a couple of jabs. He began laughing at his newfound sense of power. “I want one!” he said. “We don’t really have to kill things. We could just use them to scare monsters off.”
“I never thought of that,” Vervane admitted. “Maybe I could use one.”
“Me, too!” the younger voles all cried.
In seconds, the voles were crowding around Ben, talking excitedly, making plans to search every home in the neighborhood for weapons.
They gaped at the walnut shell on Ben’s head. “What’s that for?” one asked.
“It’s a helmet,” Ben said. “It protects your head. A cat would have a hard time biting through it.”
One vole touched it, and the walnut shell popped off of Ben’s head.
Ben looked down at it sadly. “It keeps coming off. If I had a knife, I’d whittle on it until it fit. I’d make it look cool, like a scary skull with teeth and stuff!”
Amber went to Ben and picked up the walnut shell. She imagined the scariest thing she could—the walnut shell carved to look like bone, with holes for Ben’s eyes and ears and teeth wrapping down over his jaws to hold the helmet on. Immediately, the walnut shell took the new form. The voles all squeaked in fear and backed away.
“A princely helm for a princely mouse,” Amber said.
“Cool,” Ben said, slapping it on.
With a wave of her paw, Amber gathered all of the needles from Ben’s house and let them form in the air. They dropped at the feet of the voles. “A present,” she said. “Here are weapons for all of you, so that Domino the cat will learn to fear the small creatures of the world!”
“Yay!” the voles all cried as they selected their weapons. “Hooray for Amber! Hooray for Ben!”
“So how far is the pet shop?” Amber asked Ben as the voles continued to cheer. “And which way do we go?”
“The sun rises in the east,” Ben said. “All we have to do is follow it.”
“Great!” Amber said. “What’s the sun?”
“You know,” Ben said in exasperation, “they really should have let you out of your cage more often.”
Bushmaster hopped close to Ben. “Between your weapons and her spells, nothing can stop us. All we have to do is get both of you to the pet shop, and you’ll be human in no time.”
“Wait a minute,” Ben suddenly asked Bushmaster, “are you coming too?”
“It’s the least I can do,” Bushmaster said. “You saved my life. Besides, six eyes watching for monsters are better than four. And now I have a spear!”
Old Vervane laughed. “Bushmaster always was the adventurous one. He knows every backyard from here to the end of the block.”
Somehow, the news that Bushmaster would come made Amber feel better. Bushmaster was only a vole, but he was a wild vole, and he knew how to travel through dangerous country filled with monsters that she’d never dreamed of.
The voles began shouting farewells, and with that, Bushmaster picked up his spear and led the way from the burrow.
“Travel safely,” the young girl Meadowsweet called. “Come back soon.”
“Thank you,” Amber told her. “I’d love to.”
Ben dropped the magic light-stone, muttering, “We’ll have to leave this. It would only attract attention.”
Amber threaded her way out of the burrow, just behind Bushmaster, and glanced back longingly at her magic lights. They dimmed as she left.
At their backs, the youngest voles teased, “Good-bye, mice! Good-bye, stinky mice!” They giggled and rolled on the floor while their older kin gathered up the spears.
* * *
At the top of the burrow, Ben took the lead. It was still dark, with just a hint of light. The scents of trees and bushes and moist earth clung to the ground. Ben climbed from the hole and shoved aside a young fern that spiraled up out of the humus. He trudged forward blindly into the pre-dawn gloom with spear in hand.
“What are you doing?” Bushmaster cried in
Similar Books
