The Unwilling Ambassador (Book 3) Read Online Free
Author: Heidi Willard
seen and heard enough-"
"Ah-ha!" Ned exclaimed as he popped his head up from the mess of boxes. In his hand was a small box used to hold rings. "I've found it!"
Fred hurried up to him and the girls stopped their hasty retreat as their curiosity piqued. The youngsters went over to stand behind Ned, who smiled and slowly opened the lid to reveal a small, golden needle about two inches long. Fred frowned. "That's it? That's going to make me a cloak?" he asked Ned.
"Of course not," Ned replied. "We need some thread."
Fred looked around the room. "And where is the-yow!" He clutched at his head where Ned had plucked a hair. "What'd you do that for?" he yelled.
"Each cloak is tailor-made for its owner, and so needs a piece of the owner to make the material," Ned told him.
"But how's a tiny piece of hair going to make a cloak?" Pat wondered as she looked at Fred's head. "Shouldn't we shave him?" Fred shrank back and clapped his hands over his head.
Ned chuckled. "Watch and see."
He slipped the single piece of hair through the eye of the needle, and the moment the thread passed through the eye the metal brightly glowed. The youngsters jumped back when the needle sprang into the air and a few yards in front of them. The needle danced around in a dizzying circle, and the glowing thread spun a cloak out of the lengthening hair. Fred's eyes crossed so badly he lost his balance and fell back on his butt. Pat rolled her eyes and helped him up, and their hands were still clasped when the needle stopped. The cloak hovered in the air for a moment to be admired, and flew over to wrap itself around Fred. It pushed aside their connected hands and dragged Fred back a few feet.
"Hey!" he yelped as the coat hung itself on his shoulders and the sleeves slipped onto his arms. The droopy sleeves tightened and the large front pulled back at the waist to create two long tails out the back. Buttons sprang up along the front of the waistcoat and the high collar folded down around his neck. Two pockets opened up on the lower front, and Fred felt countless more appear on the inside. Fred looked down at himself and a wide grin spread across his face. "Nice!"
Pat looked the boy up and down, and turned to Ned. "Um, that's not a cloak, that's an overcoat," she pointed out.
Ned frowned and pulled at his beard. "So it seems. Of course, the material tailors to the individual's body and personality."
Pat snorted. "So what you're telling us is Fred is more impressive than you?"
The old castor straightened and coughed. "Yes, well, looks aren't everything, and the cloak changes over time with the personality of the wearer."
Fred ran his hand along the smooth material. It felt as soft as silk and as light as a bird feather. He hardly knew he was wearing anything but for the brush of the cloth against his shirt and pants. He felt something in one of the outer pockets, and reached in to find the needle. Ned snatched that from his hand and placed it carefully back in the box, which he then deposited inside his own cloak. "Mustn't lose this again in case of repairs," Ned pointed out.
"So can I use the pockets like yours?" Fred asked the old castor.
"Yes, but your pockets won't have the depth nor numbers as mine. Those grow with age," Ned replied. Fred was eager to try out his new coat, so he grabbed the box closest in reach. Ned's eyes widened and he yanked the container from the boy's hand. "Not this one!
Fred frowned. "Why not?" It looked as innocent as all the others.
"Do you recall the Dirth beetles?" Ned reminded him, and Fred nodded. Ned held up the box, and now they could hear a soft buzzing sound from inside. "This box is much more dangerous, for it holds a swarm of Diluvian bees."
Fred and Ruth blinked, but Pat gasped and pulled Ruth away from the box. "What are you doing with such a thing?" she exclaimed. "Those things could kill us all!"
"Or at least put us in a sticky situation," Ned agreed. "Their honey is the most adhesive substance known in
"Ah-ha!" Ned exclaimed as he popped his head up from the mess of boxes. In his hand was a small box used to hold rings. "I've found it!"
Fred hurried up to him and the girls stopped their hasty retreat as their curiosity piqued. The youngsters went over to stand behind Ned, who smiled and slowly opened the lid to reveal a small, golden needle about two inches long. Fred frowned. "That's it? That's going to make me a cloak?" he asked Ned.
"Of course not," Ned replied. "We need some thread."
Fred looked around the room. "And where is the-yow!" He clutched at his head where Ned had plucked a hair. "What'd you do that for?" he yelled.
"Each cloak is tailor-made for its owner, and so needs a piece of the owner to make the material," Ned told him.
"But how's a tiny piece of hair going to make a cloak?" Pat wondered as she looked at Fred's head. "Shouldn't we shave him?" Fred shrank back and clapped his hands over his head.
Ned chuckled. "Watch and see."
He slipped the single piece of hair through the eye of the needle, and the moment the thread passed through the eye the metal brightly glowed. The youngsters jumped back when the needle sprang into the air and a few yards in front of them. The needle danced around in a dizzying circle, and the glowing thread spun a cloak out of the lengthening hair. Fred's eyes crossed so badly he lost his balance and fell back on his butt. Pat rolled her eyes and helped him up, and their hands were still clasped when the needle stopped. The cloak hovered in the air for a moment to be admired, and flew over to wrap itself around Fred. It pushed aside their connected hands and dragged Fred back a few feet.
"Hey!" he yelped as the coat hung itself on his shoulders and the sleeves slipped onto his arms. The droopy sleeves tightened and the large front pulled back at the waist to create two long tails out the back. Buttons sprang up along the front of the waistcoat and the high collar folded down around his neck. Two pockets opened up on the lower front, and Fred felt countless more appear on the inside. Fred looked down at himself and a wide grin spread across his face. "Nice!"
Pat looked the boy up and down, and turned to Ned. "Um, that's not a cloak, that's an overcoat," she pointed out.
Ned frowned and pulled at his beard. "So it seems. Of course, the material tailors to the individual's body and personality."
Pat snorted. "So what you're telling us is Fred is more impressive than you?"
The old castor straightened and coughed. "Yes, well, looks aren't everything, and the cloak changes over time with the personality of the wearer."
Fred ran his hand along the smooth material. It felt as soft as silk and as light as a bird feather. He hardly knew he was wearing anything but for the brush of the cloth against his shirt and pants. He felt something in one of the outer pockets, and reached in to find the needle. Ned snatched that from his hand and placed it carefully back in the box, which he then deposited inside his own cloak. "Mustn't lose this again in case of repairs," Ned pointed out.
"So can I use the pockets like yours?" Fred asked the old castor.
"Yes, but your pockets won't have the depth nor numbers as mine. Those grow with age," Ned replied. Fred was eager to try out his new coat, so he grabbed the box closest in reach. Ned's eyes widened and he yanked the container from the boy's hand. "Not this one!
Fred frowned. "Why not?" It looked as innocent as all the others.
"Do you recall the Dirth beetles?" Ned reminded him, and Fred nodded. Ned held up the box, and now they could hear a soft buzzing sound from inside. "This box is much more dangerous, for it holds a swarm of Diluvian bees."
Fred and Ruth blinked, but Pat gasped and pulled Ruth away from the box. "What are you doing with such a thing?" she exclaimed. "Those things could kill us all!"
"Or at least put us in a sticky situation," Ned agreed. "Their honey is the most adhesive substance known in
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