2 Tales Of The Neworld - Written By Stephanie Poppins

Tales of the New World by S.

D.

Hudson.

This audiobook is read by the author.

A Winter Plot.

Chapter One.

It was a cold morning in the New World meadow,

And the mist sat heavy in the dew-soaked grass.

Up in the larches,

The birds called the morning sun to warm their frosted feathers.

And high above them,

The clouds cupped the remains of the night before,

To let the autumn rays trickle through.

Over by the wishing chairs,

The Sassni was busy doing the washing.

She's the only one qualified to do this.

No one else can extract the oil from the Old World cones,

And no one else can blend the oil with New World herbs to make the stacks of soap needed to keep everything free from Old World poison.

She counted her precious pegs and counted them again.

They were just enough,

So she collected them into colored piles and placed them deep into her pockets.

She had to be sure they'd match,

Of course.

Nothing could be worse than pegs that didn't match.

And happy in her endeavors,

She began to sing,

For her peg song was the one thing that made the task all that more enjoyable.

I got some pegs in me pocket,

I'm a bad old set.

I got some pegs in me pocket,

Now me towels I'll get.

And I'll make such a line of all white,

I bet.

I'm the happiest girl around.

Maybe blue,

Maybe yellow,

Maybe pink and green.

But they got to be matching if they're to be seen.

If my line the best in the meadow be,

I'm the happiest girl around.

If I'm honest I'll say,

No secret could be safe my way.

But I can't help but wanna be the one they come to when they need me.

She danced in between the towels as they swayed to and fro to and fro.

Then,

With a broad smile that lit up her eyes of china blue,

She grabbed hold of one last peg.

Blissfully unaware,

Jeremiah was watching behind a cluster of camellia bushes.

That's charming,

He said.

You've got a splendid voice,

You know.

You should be using it more often.

The sassney jumped out of her skin.

Then she darted behind a large cotton sheet before peeking back round to face him.

I'll be off with you,

Jeremiah,

You and your charm.

But secretly she was flattered.

And this was just what Jeremiah intended.

He needed to broach the subject of her latest gossip,

But he was not looking forward to it.

The golden-haired sassney is nothing if not a force to be reckoned with.

Not here to help,

Then,

I trust?

She joked.

But the sassney could think of nothing worse.

Being a bunyip,

Jeremiah's two pairs of sharp dewclaws could quite easily tear her pristine bedsheets to shreds.

Not today,

Jeremiah replied.

Dare say you got the whole thing in hand,

Anyhow.

Am I right?

As always,

The sassney winked,

Oblivious as to what the bunyip was about to say next.

And so Jeremiah began.

Not relishing the task,

But committed to it nevertheless.

Well now,

There's been some alarming talk.

Far-fetched nonsense about the bogger tree coming back to the meadow.

Would you be knowing anything about this?

He eyed the sassney closely,

But she chose to ignore him by stooping down and gathering up the many pegs she had dropped.

Anything rather than face the music.

Then all at once,

As if aware of her need to escape,

A huge gust of wind lifted up her skirts and filled her bloomers,

Making her rise into the air like a parachute.

Peg your skirts round your legs,

Quickly now,

Yelled Jeremiah,

Making a grab for her.

But the winds were just too strong,

And things being the way they were,

The sassney decided she was probably better off in the sky than facing the music on the ground.

And you never know,

She said to herself.

I might just hear some fresh gossip while I'm out and about.

Never you fear,

Jeremiah,

She called.

What's news today is history tomorrow.

It'll all come out in the wash.

With a chuckle and a wink,

She turned to face the way ahead.

But the sassney had underestimated the land of winter and its intentions,

For it was they who had sent the unruly winds to get her,

And it was they who now had her precisely where they wanted her.

Chapter Two.

It was some time before the wind eased,

But when it did,

The sassney opened her eyes again to see huge swirls of mist circling around her.

They were so dense it was impossible to see clearly,

But the moment her feet touched solid ground,

The mists cleared to reveal the brow of a little hill and a cottage to match.

She was a long way from the safety of the meadow,

But so excited at the prospect of hearing all the new gossip from the folk inside,

She failed to acknowledge the danger she was in.

She knocked and waited.

It was cold outside,

And she wanted so desperately to be in the warm,

But she needn't have worried,

For immediately the door opened to reveal a gaggle of very chatty wendelwitches.

Now at this point I will have to explain what a wendelwitch is,

As not many of us will have come across them.

A wendelwitch is someone who builds her fortunes on the misfortunes of others,

Not that she always sets out to do it,

But that she does it nevertheless.

With a face similar to an old-world cat and pointed ears designed to pick up any gossip traveling on the breeze,

A wendelwitch is a surprisingly pretty creature.

That makes her all the more dangerous.

Come in,

Come in,

Sister Witch beckoned,

Brushing aside the layers of satin wrapped around her long pale arms.

Hot under her gaze,

The Sersney had no choice but to go along with it.

Now take a seat,

Don't be shy,

Said another witch,

Eager to get the Sersney where they wanted her.

So the Sersney sat down,

Albeit uncomfortably,

For the chairs were designed for wendelwitches,

Not someone her size.

Well,

That was a fierce wind,

She began,

Eager to find out exactly where she was.

But the wendelwitches weren't interested in speaking of that they already knew,

For it was they who had sent the winds to get her.

Yes,

Yes,

It surely was,

Sister Witch agreed,

Handing her a sweet smelling drink.

The Sersney looked around.

She'd never been to a place this cold before.

This was the land of winter,

But she hailed from the land of summer.

That meant these folk were her enemy.

They had a cauldron as well,

That meant they were wendelwitches.

She'd heard all about wendelwitches and none of it was good.

They obviously wanted something from her,

But for the life of her she didn't know what.

It's so lovely to meet someone from the meadow,

Sister Witch continued.

Please make yourself comfortable,

We love to let new people in on all our little secrets.

Now juicy gossip was something the Sersney could not resist,

So forgetting the scent she arrived with,

She accepted the goblet and drank greedily.

It had been some time since she'd eaten and the liquid was sweet and thick,

Much like a chocolate milkshake from the old world.

Yum,

Yum,

She declared.

Then she noticed the strange aftertaste.

I think you must have put something in this,

Did you?

All at once the Sersney fell into a deep trance.

She'd just swallowed a do what you're told potion and was about to do just that.

Yes I did,

Sister Witch declared before turning to her friends.

This is exactly what we wanted,

One of the meadow folk and who better than this gullible one?

She'll do anything for a bit of gossip.

Hooray,

The other witches cheered.

All the while the Sersney listened but she could do nothing to save herself.

So how are we going to do this?

Asked one of the younger witches.

It'll be easy,

Said Sister Witch.

We'll take her down to the Great Lake and stick her in.

Before you know it,

She'll have pegged all the lotus roots on the bank to dry.

Then the Land of Spring can keep their precious lake.

Ever since the Masters declared they must share the Great Lake with the Land of Spring,

They'd been at war.

The lake had always been their responsibility as they lived the closest to it but they hated water.

It was only because the spring folk discovered lotus roots growing on the bottom they took any interest whatsoever.

There was no way they wanted those thieves getting their clues on them.

With the power to revive and regenerate,

Dried lotus roots could get the Wendel witches out of all sorts of trouble and as they were always in trouble,

This was just too good an opportunity to miss.

Chapter 3 Standing at the edge of the lake,

The sasny gazed into its icy depths.

And there was the reflection of the sky.

Her one connection to the meadow.

Her one connection to home.

She'd been too hasty in wanting to leave her home for the promise of something with no real value.

For what was gossip if she had no friends to share it with?

She should never have spoken of the boggatory.

He was a terrible creature who had caused the meadow so much trouble in the past.

She couldn't blame Jeremiah for wanting to tell her off.

But then that was why Jeremiah was a meadow master and she wasn't.

Jeremiah had made a pledge to the wise one.

He'd promised to practice the one true word above all else.

He'd placed his own wants and desires to the deepest part of his being and devoted his life to the well-being of others.

This was not something the sasny was strong enough to do as much as she wanted to at that very moment.

She shivered uncontrollably.

Her thick curly coat wouldn't be enough to keep her warm this time.

Now in you go,

Said Sister Witch,

Jolting the sasny from her thoughts.

So removing her blue apron,

The sasny did just that.

It's freezing,

She complained.

But once in,

Her meadow energy lit up the murky expanse.

This was why the Wendel witches wanted her.

Only someone with meadow energy could pull up the lotus roots without going to the bottom.

The Wendel witches watched with delight as the bright greens and crystalline blues swirled around and around.

And when at last the roots detached themselves from the bottom and floated to the top,

Sister Witch cried,

Gather them together,

Quickly now,

Quickly.

So the sasny did what she was told.

Now peg them out to dry on the great leaves growing round and about,

Another witch ordered.

The sasny reached into her pocket as slowly as she could.

She had no choice but to follow their orders.

The do what you're told potion saw to that.

But no one said anything about how quickly she should do it.

Meanwhile,

Over in the Grand Orb,

Jeremiah was granted an audience with the Oosema Goose.

Only the wise one could see beyond the meadow,

And Jeremiah needed answers fast.

My teacher,

Jeremiah began,

The sasny's been taken.

She could be anywhere.

He felt out of control and he didn't like it one bit.

He had no idea where the sasny was,

And he had even less of an idea where to start looking.

If she was held in the Far Lands for more than one sun,

She would not be able to return to the meadow.

The wise one,

However,

Remained his calm,

Patient self.

Fret not,

The sasny in the land of winter be,

Just in form for tenure,

And she as winter's master will justice see.

Jeremiah sighed.

He might have known this was the land of winter's doing.

He hated going to that cold place.

With any luck,

The cockatrice would deal with this problem alone.

This was her land after all.

Thank you,

My teacher,

He said.

Then he dashed to Fortenua's nest.

Fortenua listened carefully.

She knew very well what the Wendel witches were capable of.

She'd have to move fast,

Though.

The washing was getting dry.

It was almost time for a new batch,

And only the sasny could do that.

Without the sasny's help,

The poison from the clothes worn by the meadow pickers would seep into the ground and contaminate the whole meadow.

This will not take long,

She stated matter-of-factly.

Then,

Clicking her sharp beak,

She added,

It will be a short trip,

Jeremiah.

Make no mistake about that.

Jeremiah smiled.

Fortenua was a force to be reckoned with.

If there was any master to deal with this problem,

It was the cockatrice.

He watched her fill her chest with new old air through the small apertures in her beak.

And as the space about her glowed the shade of ruby red,

She rose vertically to face the storm the Wendel witches had sent to cover themselves.

Fortenua was furious.

This wasn't the first time the Wendel witches had given the land of winter a bad name.

In fact,

They were the main reason the lands of winter and spring could never see eye to eye.

The witches were greedy,

And they refused to work alongside others.

She must remind them of their place and reassure them that to just because she lived in the meadow now,

That did not mean she had forgotten about their tricks and deceitful ways.

She cut through the storm with the precision of a sharpened blade and arrived in the land of winter with no time to lose.

Then,

Spotting the sassany in the middle of the witches,

Fortenua shook her head in disbelief.

She had somehow managed to come round from the do what you're told potion,

And was goading them with the lotus roots,

Refusing to hand them over.

And don't you think I won't?

The sassany yelled.

You should be ashamed of yourselves,

Refusing to share.

It's disgusting if you ask me.

I don't know who you lot think you are,

But I'm a sassany,

And I won't be told what to do by the likes of you skinny little wretches.

That shake of it,

I ask you.

Oh,

Hello Forten.

You all right?

Fortenua wanted to laugh,

Which was rare for her.

If anybody could make her laugh,

It was the golden-haired sassany.

The sassany,

Meanwhile,

Breathed a sigh of relief.

Fortenua hadn't seen her in the trance.

Good.

What could be more embarrassing than that?

It looks like you have everything under control.

I do not know why I bother.

Fortenua quipped.

But secretly,

She knew this was far from the case.

Those who shout the loudest aren't usually the ones who are heard,

And the wendel witches weren't as bothered with the sassany's escapades as the sassany thought they were.

It was the arrival of Fortenua that worried them.

Everybody knew the cockatrice meant business.

Oh,

She's back.

How nice,

Spat Sister Witch.

We thought you'd forgotten all about us,

And the land you were brought up in.

Laced with poison,

This was uncalled for.

But Sister Witch was furious she had managed to cut through the storm she sent her.

Fortenua ignored her.

She was a master now,

And refused to rise to such pettiness.

Come,

She said to the sassany.

The washing is almost dry.

That is enough of this folly.

But even though she was as scared of the cockatrice as she was,

Sister Witch refused to give up that easily.

After all,

Her mind powers affected everyone else,

So why not the cockatrice?

She signalled to the other witches,

And they closed in quickly.

Gossip she tells,

And gossip she is.

Nothing but gossip the sassany she gives.

They chanted over and over.

Gossip she tells,

And gossip she is.

Nothing but gossip the sassany she gives.

Gossip she tells,

And gossip she is.

On and on it went,

Faster and faster,

Until the sassany began to shake.

She had escaped the control of the Wenderwitches by eating a lotus root behind their backs,

But even the lotus root wouldn't get her out of this.

The chants whirred round and around her like psychotic snakes,

And her eyes began to close.

Seeing the sassany wane,

Fortunua shouted,

It is time to move!

Then she spread her wings as wide as she could to create a gigantic barrier of copper feathers.

One,

Two,

Three,

Four.

She placed her middle digits and thumbs together and filled her lungs with New World air.

Four,

Three,

Two,

One.

Then letting it out,

She screeched,

With the power of Bek-Chi!

A brilliant red light rose up from her clues into her chest to blind them.

No!

The Wenderwitches cried as her wings captured the rays of the piercing winter sun.

It's too bright!

But it was too late for them now.

Bright red darts shot out from the cockatrice's eyes,

Knocking them over like wooden pins in a bowling alley.

Crash!

They scrabbled around,

Desperate to get back up,

Their soft satin clothes smeared with thick black soil.

But it was no use,

Fortunua's Bek-Chi was just too strong.

That's soldier!

The sassany shouted,

Laughing hysterically.

You better get cleaned up,

You look like the blackened wallow guy in the land of spring,

And you don't half smell like them as well.

Fortunua smirked,

But the Wenderwitches wouldn't be down for long,

So she snatched up the sassany's apron and grabbed hold of her outstretched clothes before lifting her up,

Up and away in a blaze of brilliant copper and ruby red.

Smell you later!

The sassany cried as they faded into the distance.

Don't think those lotus roots will work,

Without these pegs they'll never dry.

The Wenderwitches shook their heads in disbelief,

Then they cursed the day they ever set eyes on the golden-haired sassany.

Back at the meadow it was no time at all before the sassany was back to doing what she did best,

Gossiping about what happened in the land of winter.

But this time her gossip was much more restrained,

And this time her gossip was only about herself.

Seeing how much the meadow folk had missed her,

She now understood.

She didn't need to always be the one telling the stories and knowing the latest news,

She was loved and valued as the one looking after the washing.

And this,

When all is said and done,

Is one of the most important jobs of all.

The End