Quen Nim Read Online Free Page B

and she took flight to the left of the high cobbled road.
    â€œYou’re left and I’m right. If you’re left, why aren’t you staying? If I’m right, how pleasant that will be,” Motty sang her nonsense, fluttering along in ragged flight, working her stubby yellow wings.
    Nimble Missst felt soothed by the wash of Motty’s voice. A surprise? Not really. It was Motty’s voice, and not Rindle Mer’s, she had heard singing above her cradle so such that long ago in her newborn days.
    The green density of the Woods Beyond the Wood spreading out far and wide from both sides of the road offered tens of thousands of places to hide. Nimble Missst’s snapjaw mind focused, hard at work. No sign of him on the road. No boot scuffs. No pebbles on the slope turned underside up Blossom Princely stride lengths apart. Did he have help? Might he not have befriended a waterwizard at some Blossom Festival or other? Hmmmmm … waterwizard. Zootch would need help, wouldn’t he? A ridiculous coward afraid of me would never venture alone. He had help from someone who moved him swiftly to Sadlar’s. He isn’t hiding in these Woods. He’s at Sadlar’s. He must be at Sadlar’s because I think it so!
    â€œMotty!” called Nimble Missst. “Follow me.”
    Nimby swerved from the high cobbled road and flapped her wings furiously. She sped on a line over the Woods Beyond the Wood. When a beckoning pool at the mouth of a cave appeared below her, she dropped abruptly to land.
    â€œRiffle Sike! Where are ye? How did ye help the Blossom Prince?” she called into the cave from the edge of the pond.
    Motty fluttered along and settled clumsily half in and half out of the pool. Three trouser legs were wet. Three weren’t.
    â€œOh, a family visit, how nice. Where your mother grew. Is Uncle at home?” sang Motty merrily.
    True to be said, they’d arrived at the beckoning pool of Nimble Missst’s mother’s uncle, the waterwizard Riffle Sike. Nimby shimmered to cloud and seeped into the cave. She furled out and twined into the depths of the pond. She wisped from the surface and combined to jell on the shore. She swirled an orange curl of her hair on a finger. She mused.
    â€œHe’s not here. There’s a fact. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. He’s up to something. What is he up to? Helping Zootch. Nothing other. He helped Zootch get to Sadlar’s. It’s as I thought. Now straight to …”
    â€œBe it truth? Wave billows and waterspouts, so it be!” came a cry from above the tops of the trees.

Chapter Ten
    A Visit with Riffle Sike
    â€œWhat tide sweeps Rin’s daughter to my saucy pond?” asked the waterwizard who appeared above the treetops floating.
    So said, a truth, the waterwizard was Riffle Sike, Nimble Missst’s mother’s uncle. His wispy tuft of orange beard danced as he spoke. His yellow orange eyes shone brightly out of his mint green face and below his wild tangled storm of orange hair. His purple robe was sprinkled with white stars. The white pouchbag he held in his bony mint green hand was sprayed with purple stars. He descended, all smiles, to greet his niece’s daughter.
    â€œThe snapjaw Missst, so it be. And the merry hollowite. How many bars has it been? Months? A year? Such a flood of unexpected happiness. How be my Rin? My stubborn Rin,” prattled Riffle Sike, descending.
    â€œShe’s fine,” flatly stated Nimby.
    â€œAnd ye? How be ye? Have I not heard that there be a bubble of change in the wind for ye?” he asked with a grin and a wink.
    â€œA bubble of change, a bubble of change, a bubble of change, how very strange,” sang Motty, clasping her hands and rolling her froggy eyes.
    â€œSettle, Motty!” snapped Nimble Missst. “Ye know, Uncle. Ye know more than enough. Why have ye helped the cowardly Prince escape to