Goblins on the Prowl Read Free Page B

trying it on would wear it out, I thought.
    Looking around to make sure Granny wasn’t watching, I placed the metal circle over my throat. Then I pulled the ends of the leather strap behind my neck. As I tried to figure out how to fasten the collar, I heard a soft click and felt a burst of heat against my throat.
    I cried out as I realized the collar had fastened itself!
    â€œIs something wrong?” asked the squirrel.
    I jumped in surprise. I had understood the thing!
    â€œWell, are you going to talk to me, or nut?” the squirrel asked. Then he chattered with laughter. “Get it?” he cried, clutching his belly. “Talk or nut ? Oak and beech, sometimes I kill myself!”
    I was beginning to understand what Granny had meant when she’d said being able to talk to animals was a mixed blessing.
    The squirrel stopped laughing and looked at me, obviously waiting. I realized it was my turn to talk. The thing was, I didn’t like talking all that much, even to humans.
    â€œIf you’re not going to use that collar, you probably shouldn’t have put it on,” the squirrel said, sounding cross.
    â€œI just wanted to try it.”
    He smacked his paw against his forehead. I got the feeling he knew something I didn’t.
    â€œFauna!” called Granny. “It’s getting dark. Carry in the last load and we’ll call it done.”
    I knew I shouldn’t be wearing William’s gift, so I reached behind my neck to remove the collar. To my horror, it wouldn’t open!
    â€œUh-oh,” said the squirrel. He covered his eyes with his paws, then moved one paw aside so he could watch anyway.
    â€œGo away!” I whispered. “Scat!”
    He turned and scampered across the branches.
    â€œCoward,” I muttered.
    â€œI may be a coward,” he called over his shoulder, “but at least I’m not stupid!”
    That stung, because I was feeling plenty stupid right then. Plenty scared, too. Granny had clearly told me the collar was for William. I never should have put it on. I thought the squirrel had the right idea in running away, and I longed to do the same. The problem was, the only thing stupider than putting on the ­collarto begin with would be trying to run from Granny Pinchbottom.
    â€œFauna! Did you hear me?”
    I turned to face the cottage.
    Granny was at the door, outlined by the light from her fireplace.
    Granny could be kind.
    Granny could be helpful.
    Granny could turn you into a toad if you made a mistake.
    I had made a mistake. I was pretty sure it was a big one.

Though what happened to us in Toad-in-a-Cage Castle was horrific, the humans who live there now are fairly nice. We are still trying to figure this out.
    â€”Stanklo the Scribbler
    CHAPTER THREE
    THE MYSTERIOUS BOOK
    I have learned over the years that fear can be inspirational. In this case it inspired me to put on my coat, then raise its collar and button it around my neck. This hid that other, magical collar, so Granny would not see I was wearing it.
    I gathered the last of the wood and headed for the cottage.
    â€œYou’ve got your coat on,” Granny said when I reached the door.
    â€œIt’s cold.”
    She looked at me sharply but said only, “It’s getting dark. Stack the wood over there, and you can be on your way.”
    Did she know what I had done? I thought so, but maybe it was just my conscience bothering me. Since I didn’t really believe I had a conscience, that seemed unlikely. But if she knew, why didn’t she say something?
    When I had finished stacking the wood, Granny cut a rose from the bush beside her door. She cupped her fingers beneath the blossom, then gave it a shake. The thorns slid off. This made me feel a bit odd. I have always envied the way roses have thorns. They keep people from getting too close.
    Tucking the smooth stem over my ear, Granny said, “This will stay fresh for three days.”
    The small act of