I’m working at streamlining my blogging progress, hence the experimentation in titles.
(In our story, the rebel has just admitted to knowing very little about magic or the circumstances in the forest, and the handsome Moffer Bones has now begun to explain. Enjoy!)
“So my father, when he built this place, set himself up right on the border of the forest and wove a pocket of pure magic so that this house, the pond, and the land just around it is essentially a free-standing country in its own right. The fairies have no jurisdiction here and can’t get into this house unless I invite them. When my dad went into hiding he passed the ownership of the house to me, so it used to be that my dad had to invite a person in, but now it’s me, and all the people my dad had visit before can’t get in now unless I ask them in. You and Monacsta are the only ones I’ve let in that way.
“Anyway, but there’s a network of powerful magic that runs through the air, the trees, and the water of my pond, and when you came up to see me, I was playing with some of that woven magic and doing a bit of maintenance with my fishing rod. Sometimes the weave gets sort of frayed in different places, and I do upkeep on the overall magical situation. Um, so I was fishing, but it was magic fishing. What else do you want to know?” Moffer Bones asked.
I thought through things for a minute and then I said, “Well, I flew up towards you, and the first thing you said—well, I said hello, of course, and the first thing you said back to me was, ‘You’re Winstance. I’ve heard about you.’ I want to know exactly what you heard, and from whom.”
I said all that, and I know I sounded pretty decided because Moffer Bones turned all serious and gave me a speech about a couple of fairies, guy fairies, who apparently come out to visit Moffer once or twice a month to shoot the breeze and share gossip.
I’m not going to give you all the details of what Moffer said, because most of it isn’t pertinent to this story I’m telling you, but basically a couple of fairy dudes have been playing the fence and sort of being on both Moffer Bones’ and the Queen’s side in all this long-running conflict, so they would drop by and give Moffer Bones the gossip.
I was very frustrated, however, to learn that Moffer Bones really had been told that I was an idiot, and pretty helpless with magic. Like, grrr. Because I’m not. I know I’m turning out to have way more power than I imagined now, but I’ve never been deficient, gosh.
That’s such a mean thing to say about a person.
It turns out the Queen has been making sure I stay in my own little area of the forest—which, I thought everyone stuck to their own spot, okay?—and then she basically lied to me about magic rules and made sure I don’t do anything much, power-wise, and then she goes around and says I’m incapable and borrowing her power! Like, rude!
Anyway, I told him that stuff, so we cleared up that question, and Moffer Bones had heard aaall about those trolls and how everyone thought I was scared of them. I’d better tell you that part, because it was kind of intense. Ugh!
You’re reading (and looking at) Victor Poole, and in my current novel, there’s a guy asking about a shirt (he likes it).