Dream a Little Dream Read Free Page A

distastefully.
    After a short rest, Mich remounted Heat and they moved on intothe forest. Mich hoped the trip would be uneventful. There were many creatures in the forest, some of which could be dangerous.
    The forest is quiet. I’m worried, Heat thought to Mich’s mind.
    “Yes, it is. I’m sure it has something to do with the river. It’s been like this ever since the villagers reported the drop in the water level.”
    If the river runs dry we could all be forgotten. Heat shook his silken mane disdainfully.
    It was kind of scary. To be Forgotten was to be dead. No one had ever told Mich what the river had to do with life in Kafka, but he knew that they were somehow connected. If the river went, so would Kafka.
    The small group traveled on for two days. Just before nightfall, on the third day, they set up camp at the base of the Mangor Mountains.
    The Mangors were a forbidding place. Their charcoal slopes were rough and rugged, as well as steep. It was as if they suddenly shot straight into the air. They would be impossible for any ordinary creature to climb. That is why Madrid lived there: she enjoyed the solitude.
    Mich took the last of his food from the bag tied around Heat’s neck. He sat on a clump of grass next to Snort, who was already resting. Gentle curls of steam rose from his nostrils as he exhaled.
    He put the lucream pastry into his mouth. A loud noise caused him to squish out all the luberries, which splattered onto Snort’s nose. Heat reared up, his bright silver hooves flashing red in the sunset.
    “What is it?” Mich whispered.
    Trolls! Wood Trolls!
    Snort sat upright and curled back his lips, showing his dangerous, needle-sharp teeth. Mich stood on guard.
    The trolls soon emerged from the surrounding brush. They wereabout five feet tall. They were stout creatures that hadn’t a whit of beauty about them. Their faces were the color and texture of squashed green caterpillars.
    There were twelve of the little anal-retentive creatures and the closer they came, the worse the odor. They each carried a torch and a little dagger or a club. At last they stood close to the group, forming a semicircle.
    Mich got to his feet. One of the trolls stepped forward and focused his beady black eyes on him. “What are you doing out here, brothher?” it asked.
    “Yesss, what?” hissed another troll.
    Mich decided to be more polite than these creatures deserved. “None of your business, you putrid ilk, and I am not your brother.” Foul language was the only dialect some creatures understood, and wood trolls had the foulest mouths in the forest.
    “Oooh, he sspeaks harsshhly to me! What have I done to you to desserve thiss, brother? We only need a favor,” the first one said, kneading his hands. The other trolls were crowding in to hear the dialogue better.
    “Why would I do you a favor, you vile creature? I wouldn’t give you the pleasure of urinating on you, much less helping you.”
    The troll was undaunted. It looked Mich over from head to toe and did the same to his companions. “Look at thiss, brotherss! A stareless bassilisssk! He’ss no threat!”
    The trolls cheered and took turns walking up to Snort and staring him in the face. The basilisk was angered terribly by this treatment. He was very sensitive about his handicap of not being able to kill with a glance. It was the price of being tame. He did have fire, but he knew that if he fired on the ugly green trolls, they would only explode into a noxious gas cloud and the remaining pieces would reconstruct into twice as many new trolls. This was an ability more than one type of creature had.

    At last the trolls became bored with this game. They moved on to more entertaining things. “Give usss that sssword, bassstard mann child,” one troll said courteously.
    “Yesss, you two-legged grub. Givve!” another echoed.
    “We neeed a fine weaponn like thhat.”
    “Nooo!” another troll cried. “Take the flying mucilage factory and do away with the