Shannon Hale - Bouncing the Grinning Goat

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Bouncing the Grinning Goat 2013 by Shannon Hale

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EPub Edition AUGUST 2013 ISBN: 9780062289704

FIRST EDITION

W hen I staggered into the town, I hadnt eaten in three days. My big brothers armor pressed heavy on my shoulders. His sword hung long from my belt, scraping the ground. I tripped over it, fell face-first into a mud puddle, and wondered, If I just lay here, how long would it take me to die?

The noon suns heat on my back felt like a pat of encouragement. I found the energy to crawl back to my feet and stumble on, past houses, tanners, cobblers, and weavers, following the maddening smell of food. A tavern! Its carved wooden sign bore a smiling goat.

Good morning, sir, I croaked at a short, round man who was nailing a paper to the door.

I was about to askthat is, beg for a scrap of food when I read the notice hed nailed up: BOUNCER WANTED .

A bouncer! If the job included meals, I could be a bouncer. Keep the tavern-goers in line, stop fights, toss out the troublemakers. After all, I looked after my nine little brothers and sisters. Or I had before I ran away.

Id like to be your bouncer, I said. I know I dont look like much at the moment.... I tried to scrape the mud off my face. But I have excellent bouncer experience.

Hmm, a stranger might work better than one of their own telling them what to do, he said. His voice was surprisingly high, like a morning birds screech. But what makes you think you could bounce my tavern any better than the last fellow?

What makes me think? I made my face indignant. What makes me think?

The wind shifted, blowing rich scents from the tavern kitchencharred beef, bacon grease, milky potato stew, oat muffins. My stomach shrank one more size. Just then, Id have said anything to get fed, but the first solution that popped into my mind was

Im from Old Hollow.

The little man blinked twice and took a step back. Old H-h-hollow? Oh my oh my. He rubbed his hands together and looked everywhere but my face. Yes, yes, an Old Hollower. Thatll do. Oh my, yes.

He didnt ask for proof. After all, who would dare falsely claim to be an Old Hollower? The twisting of my thin stomach took up so much of my attention I didnt feel guilty yet. Because I was actually from New Hollow, which is just down the mountain and on the other side of the wood. But we shared the same stream, so that sort of counted, didnt it?

No, it didnt. Id never seen an Old Hollower, but Id heard the talesthey fought with swords forged of hot light, their eyes burned like fire to see through lies, they could turn into living flame and chase away their enemies. New Hollowers like me were normal boring folk.

Welcome to Bendy Stream, said the little man. Im Churn. What was your name?

My big brothers all got warrior names like Forge, Strike, and Tackle, while I got

Spark, I said. It sounded like something you would swat awaya firefly or flitting ash. I suppose it could have been worse. My little sisters were named Ponder, Silence, Listen, and Behave. By the way, Behave was the naughtiest four-year-old in the Five Kingdoms.

I tried to sound casual as I asked, Now, about meals...

You can eat after work, said Churn.

My belly made a pathetic squeak.

Inside, the tavern was smoky from the hearth fire and as dark as evening. At this time of day, our little tavern back home would be mostly empty, but the Grinning Goat was half-full of people eating their noon meal.

The salty scent of meat made me wobble. I grabbed a chair back. Itd be hard to look fearsome while in a dead faint.

Hey! Churn screeched. Hey!

The talking and clanking died down.

Churn adjusted his apron. You all know what happened to my last bouncer, rest him, though maybe only one of you knows exactly how he ended up in that ditch.

The last bouncer was... dead? My legs tried to fold beneath me.

But never you mind because my new bouncer isnt going to put up with your fighting and thieving and accumulating of excessive meal tabs. This one is an Old Hollower.

The silence got silenter.

Please feed me , I wanted to beg, but I guessed that tactic would get me tossed out the door. I needed to convince them I was an Old Hollower. I did have some practice in storytelling. The little ones wouldnt go to sleep without a good story.

Greetings, Bendy Stream! I said grandly. I am Mistress Spark. My stomach let out a groan so loud it couldve been a dragons snore. I tried to cover it with a cough. As you can see, Im young, and the powers of young Hollowers are still raw. If I were forced to fight you, I might hurt you terribly. So lets just avoid fighting at all costs. Um, thank you.

Someone whispered, That little girl is a Hollower?

Looks more like a half-drowned rat than a mage, someone else whispered.

So... so lets just all be nice, I said not as grandly. If you dont mind. Please.

I put my shaking hands in my pockets and gripped my lucky rock.

Hey, Blaze, I heard a man whisper, I dare you to shove her over and see what happens.

Years ago Id found my lucky rock on the mountainblack, big as a duck egg, its irregular facets smooth like glass. On boring winter days back home, I used the rock to reflect a spot of sun or firelight onto the ground, wiggling it for the little ones to chase. Old Hollower powers seemed to involve light. Could I fool this lot with a light trick?

I stepped into the brightest spot in the room, where sunlight poured through the window. I held the rock down low by my side.

You! I said, pointing to the man who had just spoken. When he looked at me, I twisted the rock, reflecting light into his eyes.

Aah, he said, squinting.

And you, and you, and you, I said, reflecting that bright light directly into the eyes of three more people. Ive marked you four with my... my light mage powers. Ahem . That was just a flutter of magic. You dont want to feel my, uh, full wrath.

I slipped the rock back into my pocket. The four Id shined were shielding their eyes, afraid to look at me.

Im not going to blind you. Today. I smiled. Just be nice and you have nothing to worry about. All settled? All right, lets eat up!

Everyone went back to their meals, whispering about the Old Hollower bouncer.

At the bar, Churn took out a wooden bowl. I took a step closer. He ladled not one, but two whole scoops of stew into the bowl, topping it with half a torn loaf of dark, nutty bread. I felt drool trickle out the corner of my mouth.

Eat up, Mistress Spark, he said. The evening crowd is worse.