“See, this isn’t an instantaneous kind of magic. It takes
time.” He sat down and put his hands behind his neck,
wondering how far he could go before Grelgen gave up.
“Now, this kind of magic is called sirups. Up, down, up,
down … you in the back there, no slacking, now… up,
down…”
He worried constantly that Grelgen and her colleagues
would become impatient before the new exercise regimen
had time to do its work. He needn’t have worried. The
enchanted folk took weight off as rapidly as they put it on.
By the second day the most porcine of the villagers could
boast of shrunken waistlines. By the third the effects were
being felt by all, and by the fourth even Grelgen could stay
airborne for short flights.
“I don’t understand, mate,” said Kludge. “You said it
’tweren’t magic, yet see ‘ow quick-like they’re shrinkin’
down!”
“It’s their metabolic rate. They burn calories much
faster than we do, and as soon as they get down to where
they can fly again, the burning accelerates.”
The results were reflected in Grelgen’s changing atti-
tude. As the exercises did their work, her belligerence
softened. Not that she became all sweetness and light, but
her gratitude was evident.
“A most wondrous gift you have given us, man. A new.
kind of magic.” It was the morning of the fifth day of their
captivity and a long time since any of the enchanted folk
had suggested having one of their guests for supper.
“I have a confession to make. It’s not magic. It’s only
exercise.”
“Call it by whatever name you wish,” she replied, “it