Ravenspell Book 2: The Wizard of Ooze Read Free Page B

chocolate cake and a slice of old pizza, and made a small feast of it.
    Afterward, Amber, Ben, and Lady Blackpool all scurried through Ben’s old backyard, under the tall grass and dry thistles, into the shadow of some huge fir trees, hopping on a carpet of fir needles, passing fir cones that looked as big as buses.
    Just beyond a patch of yellow mushrooms was the opening to their burrow.
    Amber was just about to go in when a pair of small birds—a tiny black-and-white wren and his gray mate—flew down to the base of a fir tree, their powerful little talons clinging to the bark. They were both shaking nervously.
    The male bird asked, “Is it true, oh great wizardly mouse, that you are granting wishes to those in need?”
    Great, Ben thought, now we have to save the birds of the world, too.
    “Uh, maybe,” Amber answered.
    “The reason I ask,” the handsome male bird chirped, “is that our nest tipped over in the high winds two nights ago. All of our eggs fell out and broke, and my wife here—well, both of us really, are heartbroken.”
    The female bird held off a few inches, and she just chirped sadly.
    “What do you want from me?” Amber asked.
    “Would you be so kind as to fix our eggs?” he asked.
    Ben felt fear rise up into his throat. Of course Amber would want to heal the eggs. But how much magic power would it use? Would she be able to heal them and still take care of Ben’s little problem?
    To his relief, Lady Blackpool advised, “Fixing eggs is almost impossible. There were living creatures inside, and Amber would have to bring them back to life. She won’t be able to do that kind of magic until she has some further training—if ever.” The words hung in the air for a moment, and Amber looked from Lady Blackpool to the wrens.
    It seemed as if she was torn between her desire to help and the difficulty of the task.
    Amber won’t try it, will she? Ben wondered. Right now he objected to everyone’s wishes, he realized. He wanted Amber to keep her promise to him.
    But am I doing it because they have dumb wishes, Ben wondered, or because I’m selfish?
    “I’m sorry,” Amber told the wrens. “I really would help you if I could.”
    The birds peered at each other sadly.
    “It’s still early in the spring,” Lady Blackpool told the wrens. “Go build another nest, lower in the trees this time. Secure it well, and it is my wish that your young will grow up safely.”
    The birds didn’t seem to like the advice, especially since it would require work on their part. They turned their beaks up at Lady Blackpool but bowed their heads to Amber.
    “Thank you,” the male bird said. “You are a kind mouse, and I know that you’ll be nice to birds when you take over the world.” They flitted away.
    “Well,” Lady Blackpool asked Amber at the mouth of the burrow, “how does it feel to be famous?”
    “It’s all right, I suppose,” Amber answered in a tired voice.
    “Me,” Lady Blackpool said, “I was never much of a glory hound. Never wanted fame. Back home, I used to just keep to myself, hide out in my little burrow by day, come up and hunt for slugs and bugs at night. I even worked at building a nasty reputation, just to keep the beggars away.”
    “They’re not beggars,” Amber said. “They just . . . want things. Like those birds—I really felt sorry for them. I wanted to help. I really did.”
    “They beg,” Lady Blackpool said, “and that makes them beggars. ”
    Am I a beggar? Ben wondered.
    No, he decided. I worked for Amber. I helped her free the mice from the pet shop. I’ve earned the right to be turned back into a human again.
    But then he thought about how little he had really done, and Ben despaired. He hadn’t done much to help Amber, not much at all. He mainly just stood around while she drained magic power from him.
    Amber looked forlornly down at an acorn. The forest was quiet, though songbirds could be heard at the woods’ edge. The sun was rising, and the clouds