Amber Magic

Chapter One

The night was moonless and still. Underneath the dark sky sat a tranquil farmhouse. A soft orange light glowed from the farmhouse windows.

A tiny manling parted the leafy hedge with delicate, thin-boned hands. He watched the farmhouse and barnyard for several minutes, but there was no sign of the River Folk, or their beasts. The creature leered hungrily at his goal: a clay pot set out upon the back porch that brimmed with fresh, creamy milk.

A dark, overly-long tongue snaked out, swept across the creature's lipless mouth and snapped back from whence it had come.

Crouching for the sprint, the tiny thief pushed his cap down squarely upon his head and gripped his walking stick. He burst from the cover of the hedge and dashed across the barnyard. His coattails fluttered as he ran. He shoved his face into the pot and greedily slurped up the feast, pausing only for quick wheezes of breath. Although the clay pot was nearly as big as he was, the milk was gone in a thrice.

Face dripping and belly distended, he cast about for more solid fare. His candle-stick nose wrinkled and twitched in the evening air. He caught an enticing scent-that of fresh fur, fresh life, fresh meat.

Bounding from the porch, he followed the scent to the barn, where cows lowed fearfully at his approach. An old carthorse nickered and kicked once in its stall.

A pile of loose straw obscured a wooden crate. From inside came mewling sounds. Grinning at his good fortune, the manling dug furtively at the straw and poked his face inside. Six gray-furred kittens squirmed deliciously. Their eyes were not yet open. The manling grinned more widely.

Some moments later, a great ruckus brought Aunt Suzenna to the back porch. She noted the absent milk.

The screeching sounds from the barn continued. She called to her husband over her shoulder, “Mama-cat has caught something in the barn!”

The screeching and commotion grew in intensity.

“Here, puss, puss,” Suzenna called, looking with concern toward the dark hulking building.

Suddenly, a tiny figure bounded out into the yard. It wore clothes like a man but was no bigger than a doll. It took incredible leaps, despite its swollen belly, each stride carrying it a dozen feet or more. Right behind it was Mama-cat, ears flat, eyes blazing.

The chase went around the farmhouse once and then off into the woods.

“Wee Folk!” gasped Suzenna, eyes wide with wonder and fear. Trembling on her feet, she looked in on the newborn kittens in the barn. She counted all six, although she had to scoop up two of them and put them back in their wooden crate. She stepped back into the house and pulled the door shut.

Soon after that, the shutters slammed and the house fell dark. None inside dared speak above a whisper for the rest of the night.