Witches’ Brew by Terry Brooks

“Poggwydd. That your pet, cute little fellow behind you?” His eyes were suddenly sharp. “What is he?”

She came all the way over and stood looking down at him. Haltwhistle followed. “What are you eating?” she asked in return.

“Eating? Oh, uh, a rabbit, yes, a rabbit. Caught it myself.”

“It has a rather long tail for a rabbit, doesn’t it?” She indicated the leavings of his meal piled next to him in a bedraggled heap.

Poggwydd frowned petulantly. “Well, I forget. Maybe it’s not a rabbit. Maybe it’s something else. What difference does it make?”

“It looks like a cat.”

“It might be. So what?”

Mistaya shrugged and sat down across from him. “I just didn’t want you to get any ideas about Haltwhistle, that’s all.” She indicated the mud puppy, who was sniffing at the ground. “You’re a G’home Gnome, aren’t you?”

“Proud to be so,” he announced with uncharacteristic boldness for one of Landover’s most despised peoples.

“Well, everyone knows G’home Gnomes eat pets.”

Poggwydd threw down his bone in disgust. “That’s a lie! An outright lie! G’home Gnomes eat creatures of nature and the wild, not those of house and hearth! Now and then a stray gets eaten, but that’s its own fault! See here, little girl, we must have an understanding if we’re to continue this conversation. I will not be maligned. I will not be reviled. I will not sit here and defend myself. I was here first, so if you feel compelled to impugn the integrity and character of G’home Gnomes, you must leave now!”

Mistaya wrinkled her brow. “You seem awfully grouchy.”

“You’d be grouchy, too, if you had to spend your whole life bearing up under the abuse of others. G’home Gnomes have been wrongfully accused since the dawn of time for crimes of which they were not guilty. They have been scorned and ridiculed with never a thought given to the harm that was done. Innocent little girls like you should know better than to follow in the ways of your ignorant, prejudiced elders. Not everything you hear is true, you know.”

“All right,” Mistaya acknowledged. “I’m sorry for being suspicious. But there are lots of stories about you.”

Poggwydd screwed up his whiskered face in distaste. “Humph! Stories, indeed!” He glanced again at Haltwhistle. “So what is he, anyway?”

“A mud puppy.”

“Never heard of it,” Poggwydd held out one grimy hand. “Come over here, Haltwhistle. Come here, boy. Let old Poggwydd give you a pet.”

“You do not pet mud puppies,” Mistaya declared quickly. “You never touch them.”

Poggwydd looked at her suspiciously. “Why not?”

“You just don’t. It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Poggwydd looked back at the mud puppy. “He doesn’t look dangerous. He looks rather silly.”

“Well, you mustn’t touch him.”

“Suit yourself.” The G’home Gnome shrugged. He looked down at the bones gathered in his lap. “Want something to eat?”

Mistaya shook her head. “No, thank you. What are you doing out here?”

Poggwydd ate a sliver of meat off a bone. His teeth looked sharp. “Traveling.” He shrugged. “Enjoying my own company for a while, getting away from the noise and bustle of home, escaping from this and that.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, I’m not in trouble!” He gave her a peevish look. “Do I look like I’m in trouble? Do I? Say, what about you? Little girl wandering around out here in the middle of nowhere. Are you in trouble?”

She thought about it a moment. She was in trouble, she supposed. Not that she was going to tell him. “No,” she lied.

“No, huh? What are you doing out here, then, all by yourself? Taking a long walk, maybe? Are you lost?”

Her jaw tightened defensively. “I’m not lost. I’m visiting.”

“Hah!” Poggwydd made a face. “Visiting who? The witch, maybe? That’s who you’re visiting?” The look on her face brought him up short. “Now, now, I was only teasing; no need to be frightened,” he reassured her hastily, misreading the look. “But she’s right over there, you know. Just a mile or so off in the Deep Fell. You don’t want to be wandering about down there. Just remember that.” He cleared his throat and tossed away the last of the bones. “So who are you visiting way out here?”