Read Online Elf Killers by Carol Marrs Phipps, Tom Phipps - Free Book Online
Authors: Carol Marrs Phipps, Tom Phipps
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stories, maybe."
"That's right," said Doona. "How many of us know something that the rest of us don't? Some little tidbit could save our lives."
"She's got a good point," said Kieran in a grand way which vexed Oisin.
"I quite agree," he said. "Any other stories?"
"Well they can't fly, but they're awfully fast," said Lilee. "And Grandfather Martyn told about their nests on the ground with brown speckled green eggs, the size of a newborn baby's head."
"I've heard that yearling birds hunt in packs with their parents," said Kieran.
"And there's nothing out here fierce enough to eat the parents," said Olloo with a sigh.
"Yea," said Oisin, "maybe we'll just have to change that."
Chapter 6
Dyr sat on his favorite rock in front of the Hooter Cave, watching his subjects milling about as they began their night (troll day). He was particularly fond of this rock because it allowed him to keep a careful eye upon his multitude by gazing out across them as if they were altogether unimportant while imposing his endowments upon them at the same time.
"Dyr," said Gnydy with a sly look as he came up from behind. "It be grow-moon, grow-moon and big-moon-rise and still-no Rre-gafi-ni-oow-fn, no Fnadriph, no Dofan-ay-yr-pi.”
Dyr ignored him as he continued, "Something be tumble-down. I nod-said those young grab-up-squeakers be-more hee-hee-think than just ho-hums." He crossed his arms with a nod.
He quickly looked at the ground as Dyr turned about and said, "Then you take your hee-hee-think and ay-ooo, ay-ooo some Dyrney-brutes and go-find Rre-gafi-ni-oow-fn, Fnadriph and Dofan-ay-yr-pi. Now." He thrust out his chin beneath his beetle-browed blue eyes and thumped his chest as if he were running off a misbehaving dog. "Ooot-ooot!"
As Gnydy scuttled away to hoot up his brutes, Dyr turned aside to peer down at Fnarry-irrny as she put a half cooked leg of Elf on a spit and stamped out to the fire with it and then returned to their spot to pick up bones and fling them out where everyone else had to walk on them. " What a bad-breath bristle-dog, " he thought. " What a gravel-growl butt-bite. Poor Drf-nyri-fyrri. I sad-wish she could still-be my-sow. Poor-poor dead-thing. Next-time she die, I'll scratchy-chin think-think before I hee-hee-grab some Fnarry-irrny. And poor-poor little dead Ganf. No-be way-back from the land of the dead. Did Fnarry-irrny head-smash little dead Ganf? No way to ever-can nod-think. " He gave a heavy sigh and stepped down from his rock.
"Dyr!" barked Fnarry-irrny, as she looked up from the green hide she was chewing on to soften. "Will you be sneak-leading tonight's hunt-grab or do you scratchy-head-nod to-be a dirt right here-for me to trip-over?"
"You finger-point me to jump-answer? Here-be your jump-answer, I jump-crawl for nobody, nobody, nobody. I be Thunder-man, and I be Thunder-man for you. And if you poo-hoo-think that one, you can-just humpy-doodle off to some stinking-little hole where I'll never-see you again."
"Humpy-doodle off? You want me to no-be big-sow?"
"I like my rock. I be Thunder-man. I want no more growl-bite. If you be big-sow then you big-big-big-nod that I be Thunder-man. And if you can't do-that, then go be sow for some piddle-brute.”
Fnarry-irrny sat there wide-eyed, working her mouth.
"I see-that you have plenty-to-say," said Dyr with hard cold eyes. "So champ-bite this, Fnanar no-be on this spot again. No sleep. No champ. No hum-de-dumdle choice."
The Great Strah covered most of the Eastern Continent, known to the Elves as Lobhadh at that time, with a carpet of big bluestem grass, six to eight feet tall nearly everywhere, criss-crossed with shifting paths tramped by the deer, elk, aurochs and strike falcons. Oisin hurried the children through the grass, urging them to be quiet as he made straight east by the moon for the only safe place Radella knew
"That's right," said Doona. "How many of us know something that the rest of us don't? Some little tidbit could save our lives."
"She's got a good point," said Kieran in a grand way which vexed Oisin.
"I quite agree," he said. "Any other stories?"
"Well they can't fly, but they're awfully fast," said Lilee. "And Grandfather Martyn told about their nests on the ground with brown speckled green eggs, the size of a newborn baby's head."
"I've heard that yearling birds hunt in packs with their parents," said Kieran.
"And there's nothing out here fierce enough to eat the parents," said Olloo with a sigh.
"Yea," said Oisin, "maybe we'll just have to change that."
Chapter 6
Dyr sat on his favorite rock in front of the Hooter Cave, watching his subjects milling about as they began their night (troll day). He was particularly fond of this rock because it allowed him to keep a careful eye upon his multitude by gazing out across them as if they were altogether unimportant while imposing his endowments upon them at the same time.
"Dyr," said Gnydy with a sly look as he came up from behind. "It be grow-moon, grow-moon and big-moon-rise and still-no Rre-gafi-ni-oow-fn, no Fnadriph, no Dofan-ay-yr-pi.”
Dyr ignored him as he continued, "Something be tumble-down. I nod-said those young grab-up-squeakers be-more hee-hee-think than just ho-hums." He crossed his arms with a nod.
He quickly looked at the ground as Dyr turned about and said, "Then you take your hee-hee-think and ay-ooo, ay-ooo some Dyrney-brutes and go-find Rre-gafi-ni-oow-fn, Fnadriph and Dofan-ay-yr-pi. Now." He thrust out his chin beneath his beetle-browed blue eyes and thumped his chest as if he were running off a misbehaving dog. "Ooot-ooot!"
As Gnydy scuttled away to hoot up his brutes, Dyr turned aside to peer down at Fnarry-irrny as she put a half cooked leg of Elf on a spit and stamped out to the fire with it and then returned to their spot to pick up bones and fling them out where everyone else had to walk on them. " What a bad-breath bristle-dog, " he thought. " What a gravel-growl butt-bite. Poor Drf-nyri-fyrri. I sad-wish she could still-be my-sow. Poor-poor dead-thing. Next-time she die, I'll scratchy-chin think-think before I hee-hee-grab some Fnarry-irrny. And poor-poor little dead Ganf. No-be way-back from the land of the dead. Did Fnarry-irrny head-smash little dead Ganf? No way to ever-can nod-think. " He gave a heavy sigh and stepped down from his rock.
"Dyr!" barked Fnarry-irrny, as she looked up from the green hide she was chewing on to soften. "Will you be sneak-leading tonight's hunt-grab or do you scratchy-head-nod to-be a dirt right here-for me to trip-over?"
"You finger-point me to jump-answer? Here-be your jump-answer, I jump-crawl for nobody, nobody, nobody. I be Thunder-man, and I be Thunder-man for you. And if you poo-hoo-think that one, you can-just humpy-doodle off to some stinking-little hole where I'll never-see you again."
"Humpy-doodle off? You want me to no-be big-sow?"
"I like my rock. I be Thunder-man. I want no more growl-bite. If you be big-sow then you big-big-big-nod that I be Thunder-man. And if you can't do-that, then go be sow for some piddle-brute.”
Fnarry-irrny sat there wide-eyed, working her mouth.
"I see-that you have plenty-to-say," said Dyr with hard cold eyes. "So champ-bite this, Fnanar no-be on this spot again. No sleep. No champ. No hum-de-dumdle choice."
The Great Strah covered most of the Eastern Continent, known to the Elves as Lobhadh at that time, with a carpet of big bluestem grass, six to eight feet tall nearly everywhere, criss-crossed with shifting paths tramped by the deer, elk, aurochs and strike falcons. Oisin hurried the children through the grass, urging them to be quiet as he made straight east by the moon for the only safe place Radella knew
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