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move. I had not yet mastered the art of speech that now I practice so well, as ye hear. I would have shouted, ‘Fuzzletong berry! Right next to you. Smash one on her forehead!’ But I couldn’t. The pillow’s fringe stopped jiggling. It seemed to be thinking. It turned and reached a paw, tapping it around, searching for the pouch! Oh, good! The paw found the pouch. It loosened the drawstring and dumped the berries out. It picked up a fat one and scooted to the witch. The pillow hauled itself to stand on end by climbing the witch. Luck it were that the troll were so monstrous. Being monstrous, he made a monstrous pillow, a pillow that when standing on end were taller than the witch. The pillow’s paw mashed the berry on the witch’s forehead. She blinked her eyes, squinted through her spectacles, stepped back and gasped. Then it were that my second mistake arrived.”

Chapter Twenty-Three
    THE WATERWIZARD MEDDLES
    â€œWhat second mistake? Let me guess. Let me be the first to guess!” spouted Kar.
    â€œKettle!” I snapped, not finding the right word, but one close enough to make Kar settle. I waved for the wand to continue.
    â€œNew Harick, ye possess a fine command of strength,” hummed the wand in its wooden way while tilting a sort of a bow to me. “The second mistake. It were soon enough revealed by the waterwizard. Yes, by Briny Brook. For, ye see, returned from gone, he were standing in the doorway. He saw the witch with the smash of berry on her forehead. He saw the troll, a giant pillow scuttling in circles. ‘It be as I thought,’ said Briny Brook. ‘The wand has worked mischief here, too.’ I clutched at my elusive magic, then gave up and listened while secretly glowering at the waterwizard. He said, ‘Ye tried the wand, and it did that?’ He pointed at the pillow troll. “Yoss, I ... drink ... think so,’ answered the witch, blinking her eyes. The waterwizard nodded. ‘I thought as much had spilled,’ he said. ‘Babba Ja Harick, when I left ye, I flew straight as the swiftest current home to my beckoning pool in the oasis beyond the Blue Hills and discovered that all of its lovely blue grass had been turned to tar. Murky mischief. I plunged to the bottom of my pool to ponder. I nibbled on butterscotch drainpipe. Who would do such a thing? Why? I asked myself questions both liquid and solid. And when of a sudden the drainpipe reformed its missing parts, those that I had eaten, I knew that a new day had misted clear. This day. And with the dawning of this day, ye may note that I had formed a suspicion.’ He glared at me when he said that. I did nothing save secretly glower. ‘Wands will work murky mischief. That be well known. They need to be channeled into service, guided by stronger forces. That be why I have returned here to ye, Harick. I have brought ye wand control. When ye use this, the wand be powerless to do other than what ye command it to do.’ He rummaged in his black mooned and starred white pouchbag. While he did so, the witch manipulated several of the rings on her fingers while mumbling softly. The pillow scuttling on paws in circles poofed into night blue troll scuttling on claws and knees. The witch had unspelled him. The troll rushed by Briny Brook and out the door, shouting, ‘No more magic! No more magic!’ Then it were that Briny Brook brought out the Golden Shoe.”
    â€œI knew it! I knew it! Bek, the Golden Shoe!” spilled Kar, unable to contain her excitement.
    â€œYoss, Golden ... blue ... Shoe,” I murmured, thrilled to awe that I was about to hear about a hazy legend, a legend almost completely unknown. Golden Shoe! One of the lost Gwer drollek stories! When we were youngling bendo dreen, how often had Kar and I plotted to be the first to rediscover the complete Gwer drollek of the Golden Shoe? Many times. When we met Babba Ja Harick for the first, then second, then