Magic slipped free from my grip and danced, spark and glimmer, eluding my frantic clutches. A lesson were learned then there. Unless I were held in Briny Brook’s hand, I were unable to grasp my magic. I vowed to change that bothersome fact. I vowed. Ye see how I were successful. Oh, it took a long great span of time, though, a long great span. It took ...” “Why was Briny Brook sprawled on the floor?” interrupted Kar, now so such at ease to be near the wand and seemingly so forgetting its danger. “Sprawled?” said the wand, truly brought back to its story. “Ah, sprawled. Briny Brook. Yes. He were made to sprawl by a booming crash of a voice behind him. A monstrous ogre of a troll or troll of an ogre, all over covered with night blue hair and sprouting horns and claws and tusks most impressive, had asked, ‘Are you looking for Babba Ja Harick? She isn’t here. She’s away gathering fuzzletong berries for when she freezes which she does often enough, I can tell you.
