7 Tales Of The Neworld - Written By Stephanie Poppins

In this episode, Jeremiah learns of a deadly secret in the Land of Summer which will poison everyone in the Meadow if it is not dealt with immediately.

Tales of the Neworld are heart-warming short stories set in a natural haven. They are original fantasy stories suitable for all ages. They are also available in novel format.

Transcript

Tales of the New World by S.

D.

Hudson This audiobook is read by the author.

A Deadly Secret Chapter One Sighed Jeremiah one frosty morning as he stepped out of his cosy woodland home.

It'd be much colder out here today.

The season in the meadow was turning.

Winter was peeping over the threshold,

And with it,

A longing for the endless days and warm summer nights since past.

At the perimeter,

Each tree donned a bald outfit in anticipation,

And swollen dewdrops hung heavy with the weight of what was to come.

Jeremiah missed his land sometimes.

His sensitive skin was not designed for cold mornings like these.

He closed his oaken door behind him,

Straightened his welcome mat,

And polished the brass knocker with a furry clove.

Never mind,

He would be back in the warm soon enough.

Yeah,

You've still got it,

Jeremiah said to himself as he checked the reflection of his tusks in the meadow well.

He took a long,

Cool draught of the liquid within.

It slithered down his thick throat like medicine.

Just two more minutes and I'll be good to go.

He sat back in the woodland wishing chair as it hummed his favourite song.

And there he remained until the pale sun brought the meadow folk with it,

Some with a jump,

And others with a calm acceptance of what the new day had in store.

Morning,

Me old bucka.

Now rest for the wicked.

Jeremiah sighed.

He might have known that Sassony would be the first to pipe up.

There was no avoiding her,

Least of all when he was tired.

When she walked,

The ground wobbled.

When she picked things up or put them down again,

The grass parted ways.

And even if there was nobody listening,

The golden-haired Sassony would fill the silence with her latest gossip.

Morning,

He grumbled back.

Don't mind me,

The Sassony continued.

It'll be as though I'm not here at all.

Then she busied herself with her new pegs and recited one of her latest verses,

Although today her voice was unusually hoarse.

Now,

I've heard little rumours of a telling tale where the pog,

He's been eaten from the meadow grail,

And I'm sure if I listen there'll be more to tell once this washing's hanging high.

Not one to leave it,

Be it sweet or sour.

That Jasper,

He won't wait till the eating hour.

He'll be foraging already and he'll take no cover till the sun drops low in the sky.

Sounded a bit croaky there now,

Said Jeremiah.

Ain't it time to rest that tongue of yours and let a fellow dream a little?

The Sassony took no notice.

For all his complaints,

She knew Jeremiah liked to be entertained and two better at this time of the morning than her.

So she began another verse before leaving to collect her latest batch of washing.

Ta-da!

She called as she waddled away.

But Jeremiah didn't reply.

He was too distracted.

There was something wrong.

It wasn't just her hoarse voice.

Her neck was swollen and her eyes were red.

He got up reluctantly to see what she did next.

And sure enough,

The moment the Sassony thought she was out of view,

She slumped down by her washing basket and bowed her head in pain.

She ain't at all well,

Jeremiah said to himself.

Just what in the far land she been up to now?

The Sassony wasn't quite sure why she was ill.

She had spent longer than usual foraging in the old world copse.

Ascension was upon them after all.

But all poison had successfully been removed,

So it couldn't have been that.

Maybe it was the potion the Wendel witches gave her in the land of winter that time.

Some said those winter illnesses took moons and moons to show themselves.

Her roughened cheeks reddened at the reminder of how stupid she'd been.

As one of the meadow elders,

She was old enough to know better.

But no one took her seriously at the best of times,

And this wouldn't help matters.

If she kept herself to herself,

She'd get better without a fuss.

The last thing she wanted was folk knowing how stupid she'd been.

Over in the land of summer,

The Tricoteau was planning a way to avoid the inevitable.

Ascension Day was here.

That meant Jeremiah would be collecting her magic scarf when the red moon rose.

The last thing she wanted to do was give that up.

She'd been working on it for so long.

But she was desperate for the old world stuff she'd get in exchange,

So she didn't see she had any choice.

When I knit those shiny foils and plastic into my work,

She said to herself,

They'll catch the light and bring my fabrics to life.

Then everyone will say I'm the greatest artist in the new world.

She couldn't wait.

But being as greedy as she was,

The Tricoteau wanted more than just old world stuff for all the hours she'd put in.

She was a lazy creature and had never worked so hard.

If it wasn't for Jeremiah talking her round,

She'd never have made such a sacrifice in the first place.

But then she'd been taken in by his charm,

Just as she always was.

Why oh why did I agree to such a thing?

She said to herself impatiently.

But agreeing wasn't the whole story.

It was the Tricoteau's turn and she knew it.

Just like the other far land craftsfolk,

She was obliged once in her lifetime to make a magical item for the meadow.

It would be held in the Grand Orb for four meadow seasons in case of far land emergencies.

And in return for her hard work,

She would ascend.

That meant she'd have access to all that old world stuff she was craving.

Knitting a magic scarf had taken more skill and patience than even she knew she had.

Only skill and patience combined makes far land magic.

The Tricoteau resented every minute of it.

She liked to knit what she liked,

When she liked.

No more,

No less.

Just enough to keep her head above water,

It was said.

And sometimes not even that.

Her fine jersey cloth was merely for looking at.

It was for hanging upon her walls and draping across her chairs so she could marvel at her skill and wallow in her own achievement.

It was not for the benefit of others.

If I'm quick enough to trade some of this magic before handing it over,

I won't have made so much of a sacrifice now,

Will I?

She hid the scarf quickly.

When the others were up and about,

She'd trade as much magic as she could.

Then,

By the time Jeremiah turned up,

She'd not only have immeasurable wealth,

She'd also have that old world stuff to look forward to.

Yes,

She exclaimed out loud.

With any luck,

This'll turn out to be a win-win situation.

Meanwhile,

Back in the Grand Orb,

Jeremiah was getting ready to leave.

The other masters could visit their lands later,

But he had to go now.

It had taken a lot of emotional blackmail for this sasnee to tell him what was going on.

And when he finally got it out of her,

He wasn't surprised.

Quite why she'd been stupid enough to drink a potion when she was in the land of winter,

He didn't know.

It had certainly taken a long time for it to do its worst.

But Wendel Witch potions were like water hemlock to summer folk.

Slow-acting and deadly.

Just wait for the presentation at the Red Moon,

He said to the sasnee.

Then we'll use the magic scarf to make you better again.

It's from our land,

So it'll work sure as night follows day.

Summer magic always gets rid of winter.

But the sasnee didn't want to wait until the presentation.

She hated the thought of everyone knowing how ill she'd made herself.

Making a mistake was bad enough,

But she didn't want everyone else gossiping about it.

So against his better judgment,

Jeremiah agreed to heal her in secret before the presentation took place.

It wouldn't be easy,

Though.

He wasn't looking forward to keeping something from his fellow masters,

Especially for Tenua.

But the sasnee had begged,

And he had promised.

So that was that.

Then,

Once he'd used the summer magic to heal her,

He'd present the scarf to the wise one,

And no one need be the wiser.

He placed his key in the lock and entered the summer tunnel.

The trickadoe would just have to hand over the scarf early.

That was all there was to it.

She was not the easiest of folk at the best of times,

But Jeremiah was not only a master at arms,

He was also a master of charm.

He'd just have to lay it on thick.

Very thick indeed.

Chapter Three And how in the far lands are you doing,

Little Miss Trixie?

Jeremiah's early arrival was making the trickadoe very uncomfortable.

Not only had she failed to brush her fur,

Her eyelashes hadn't been curled,

And she was supposed to leave soon to do her secret trading.

All well and good,

Thank you,

She replied,

Straightening her knitted skirt over her bulging hips.

Oh,

Don't mind me,

Winked Jeremiah.

Smooth or ruffled,

I like nothing better than a little meat on the bone.

The trickadoe sat down fast.

She knew his game,

But she was determined it wouldn't work on her this time.

What's he doing here?

It's far too early,

She said to herself.

Never mind,

Just relax and remember the plan.

If she pretended to be busy,

He'd come back later.

Then she'd have time to trade some of the magic.

I've got a lot on at the moment,

She said,

Shuffling through the many items on her large work table.

She knew Jeremiah admired her work.

He'd said so before.

Let him carry the burden of conversation.

Let him pick through his words and shuffle his phrases while she hid her magic scarf from under his nose.

I can see you're busy,

Jeremiah said between oohs and ahs.

I know someone who'd love this beautiful work.

A friend of yours,

Is she?

The trickadoe probed.

But Jeremiah refused to bite.

Jealousy was the lowest of all emotions,

And he despised the trickadoe for it.

He eyed her closely.

With a right side bigger than her left,

So she relied on an old thumbstick to redress the balance.

She was a strange-looking creature.

But her workroom was warm and her cloth outstanding.

There was no doubt about that.

He looked around.

The warm summer sun had cut through the rustic window panes and caught the fine strips of cloth draped over the rafters.

Hmm.

The trickadoe twitched nervously behind her work table.

There was no way the bunyip would be able to pick out the magic scarf from the others,

Would he?

Jeremiah was known for his sense of touch,

Not his sense of sight.

She'd knitted it wisely so it looked exactly the same,

And he couldn't get up to the rafters anyway.

She was sure of it.

I'd be mighty grateful to collect the scarf now and be on my way,

Said Jeremiah,

Spotting the panic on the trickadoe's face.

But he was wasting his time.

The trickadoe's barriers were well and truly up,

And his charm had just careered headlong into them.

It's taking a little longer than I thought,

Said the trickadoe.

But I'll be needing it earlier than expected,

Jeremiah persisted.

Before the red moon?

She had to stall him somehow.

Yeah,

It's rightly so.

The trickadoe shuffled her clues to and fro beneath the table.

It's just not possible.

Jeremiah inhaled slowly.

Then,

Without thinking,

He touched his waistcoat pocket.

His watch was getting warm.

Something wrong?

The trickadoe asked.

Hmm,

I had wondered why the urgency.

Jeremiah could have kicked himself.

Everyone knew when his pocket watch glowed there was danger in the meadow.

Now the trickadoe had something to use against him.

He would have spoken about it at the start if it was common knowledge.

You'll have to come back later,

The trickadoe smiled.

She was enjoying her new position of power.

But Jeremiah was not in the mood.

It ain't wise to be playing games,

Miss Trixie.

It ain't that kind of situation and you know it.

Exactly what do I know?

The trickadoe persisted.

But Jeremiah refused to tell her anything.

How dare she hold him to ransom like this?

There was more than one way to skin a wallagus.

It was less convenient but he had little choice.

That magic scarf was up in those rafters somewhere.

He just knew it.

It was just a case of finding out where,

Before the trickadoe did something stupid.

But why me?

You know I cannot stand that interfering busybody or the Land of Summer for that matter.

Get Delilah to go.

She is quick and she is a meld.

She can get up into the rafters in a second.

Portenua was not happy.

She already had a magic item to collect from her own land and she really didn't want to be wasting her time in Jeremiah's.

But you know her wings ain't strong enough for the journey to both her land and yours,

Said Jeremiah.

Besides,

You'll be able to spot the magic without even trying.

Well I failed to see the urgency.

A trickadoe will give you the scarf later anyway.

Now Jeremiah was stuck.

He'd promised the Sassni he wouldn't say anything and he always kept his promises.

There must be another way around this.

Well,

He began.

There's a lot to be doing between now and the Red Moon and I've a feeling the trickadoe's got something up her sleeve.

Better collect the magic scarf before there's any problems.

You know what I mean?

Portenua scanned Jeremiah with her red eyes.

He was uncomfortable lying to her.

She could see that.

So,

You gonna help me or not?

She clicked her beak.

Something was up,

But she couldn't quite put her wing on it.

There was nothing wrong with him,

That was for certain.

His organs were intact,

His skin without rash,

His eyes clear,

His teeth as bright as ever,

His brain firing on all cylinders.

So what exactly was it?

Portenua looked at the facts.

She would only have to go collecting later anyway,

Be it in a different land.

So why not help the bunyip out while she was at it and get the job done early?

Jeremiah would not have asked if it wasn't important.

All right,

Have it your way.

Let us get this over and done with.

Booyah!

Jeremiah smiled to himself as he placed his key in the door to the Land of Winter.

He had successfully shielded his pocket watch from the prying eyes of another master.

His power of Bekji was as strong as ever.

True to its name,

The Land of Summer was hot,

And the cockatrice resented every minute of it.

Quite why she had been hoodwinked into collecting the magic scarf early,

She didn't know.

The only thing she was sure of was the blazing sun.

It was scorching her precious feathers and drying out her sharp beak.

Did you run,

Jeremiah?

She scoffed in disbelief.

How in the Far Lands did you manage to get here before me?

It's amazing what I can do when I need to,

Jeremiah said cryptically.

Fortenya ignored him.

She was getting sick and tired of his puzzling behaviour.

Let us get this over and done with,

She said,

Not for the first time that day.

And bursting through the wooden door unceremoniously,

She looked to her fellow master for answers.

Is this what you meant when you said the trickadoe had something up her sleeve?

Jeremiah was furious.

The trickadoe had disappeared,

And there was a gap in the oaken rafters where one of the cloths had previously hung.

There ain't no time to lose,

Huffed Jeremiah.

She's gone and done it now.

That magic's promised her the wise one,

But it looks like she's going to use it for herself.

Typical,

Screeched Fortenua.

I might have known this is the land of summer after all.

This was one step too far.

Now look here,

Fortenua.

I'm summer,

Your winner,

And we work alongside each other every single day,

Said Jeremiah.

Just because we ain't in the meadow now don't mean we forget the one true word.

The cockatrice pulled her neck in.

Jeremiah was right.

They were masters.

They should not let their frustration cloud their vision.

Kindness above all else,

That was the one true word,

And speak it she should.

My apologies.

That's okay,

Said Jeremiah.

Now let's get to it.

She can't have got that far.

But he had underestimated the trickadoe.

Being as greedy as she was,

She'd wrapped the scarf around the first person she'd come across who had something she wanted to trade for.

And when the magic emerged in a pink haze around them,

She took the best they offered in exchange before moving on to another,

Then another.

That's quite enough of that,

Screeched Fortenua,

Spotting her from afar.

Ascension will not be granted to those who drain the magic from their gifts before even offering them to the wise one.

What kind of deceit is this?

But the trickadoe hadn't finished.

I wish to escape from this place immediately,

She yelled as she wrapped the scarf around her.

She is getting away,

Screeched Fortenua.

That scarf has got more magic in it than we thought.

But Jeremiah wasn't having any of it.

With the power of bed-chi,

He declared,

Placing his middle digits and thumbs together.

One,

Two,

Three,

Four.

He filled his lungs and held the air in tight.

Four,

Three,

Two,

One.

Then letting it go gradually,

He became almost invisible,

So focused was he.

The trickadoe stared,

Unable to speak.

The bunyip's bed-chi had stunned her and she was floating in the void between magic and bed-chi.

Your greed has gone too far this time,

Spat the cockatrice,

As Jeremiah pulled the trickadoe back to where he stood.

But the trickadoe was not in the mood to be slighted by someone from the land of winter.

I think you'll find,

Fortenua,

She said viciously,

There's a little more to this than meets the eye.

Why don't you tell her about it,

Jeremiah?

A chill ran up Fortenua's spine.

She knew Jeremiah had deceived her.

The one person she trusted the most in the New World had deceived her.

What precisely was she supposed to do with that?

Don't listen to her,

Said Jeremiah.

She's just bitter because we won't let her hoodwink us like she wanted.

As soon as the words came out,

He regretted them.

Fortenua was sharp,

The sharpest,

And she was the closest thing he had to family.

Hadn't they been chosen together all those moons ago to be masters?

What was he thinking?

This was the last person he should lie to.

But before he had time to explain,

Fortenua said,

It's time to go,

And dashed off to the land of winter without so much as a bye or leave.

As soon as he got back to the meadow,

Jeremiah went straight to the Sassni's house and wrapped the scarf around her neck.

This will not take long,

He said,

As he lifted her up from the hearth rug.

But to his horror,

Nothing happened.

Bless you,

Jeremiah,

The Sassni replied.

You did your best.

Then Jeremiah realized he should have known better.

This was never going to work.

The scarf had been used too many times already.

Now what was he going to do?

Wait here,

He said,

And don't move.

You're looking a lot worse than you were earlier.

He dashed to the Grand Orb,

But not before the pigtailed Hopsi caught up with him.

There is something wrong,

Jeremiah,

She said.

Many have come down with sickness,

But I'm not sure why.

Things were much worse than he bargained for.

Go home and don't come out till I say,

He said,

His eyes flashing.

And sensing his fear,

The Hopsi left without saying another word.

I'll have to speak to the wise one,

Jeremiah said to himself.

But by the time he got to the Grand Orb,

The other masters had already done it for him.

Don't look at me like that,

Said Jeremiah.

What else was I supposed to do?

Well,

You could have been honest with us for a start,

Said Fortenua.

What,

So you could mock the Sassni for being so stupid?

There was truth in what Jeremiah said,

But Fortenua would be the last to admit it.

Pride comes before a fall,

Said Delilah,

Always.

And protecting the Sassni's pride at the cost of the meadow,

Said Fortenua,

Is not sustainable and you know it.

She was still smarting from Jeremiah's betrayal,

But she wasn't going to let him know that.

Anger was her go-to emotion and angry she would remain.

Far be it for me to stick my oar in,

Said Jasper,

Keen to pour oil on troubled waters.

The wise one only knows I've made enough mistakes of my own,

But the Sassni must have been in shock when she drank that potion.

Those Wendel witches are vicious,

I've heard.

Well,

She should have known better,

Spat the cockatrice.

Meadow folk must avoid temptation at all times.

Everyone knows that.

The tension was rising,

But before there was time to say anything else,

The Ussamagoo spoke out to put an end to it.

To help the Sassni's vanity,

You intended to do,

But now the problem is being much bigger than you.

The trickadoe to us now you must bring,

And knit she will to make amends.

So Jeremiah returned to the land of summer and dragged the trickadoe back to the grand orb.

There she was made to sit all night long,

Knitting until her eyes grew weary and her cloves ached.

A new scarf would heal the Sassni once and for all,

And she would learn not to deceive the meadow masters again.

As for the other magic items from the other lands,

They were to be used on the rest of the sick folk.

There was nothing else for it.

The next day,

Jeremiah was pleased to see the Sassni back to her usual self again,

Singing and washing,

Washing and singing.

And how's my girl,

He asked as he picked up her basket.

The Sassni hardly knew where to look.

Jeremiah's heart was elsewhere,

Everyone knew that,

But she liked it when he spoke that way.

You didn't have to go to all that trouble for me,

She said.

I should have let on sooner and gone away to heal,

Anything but put the meadow at risk.

I just didn't know who else would be able to cope with the backlog,

That's all.

This washing ain't going to do itself.

Never mind,

Said Jeremiah kindly.

You stayed away from the others as best you could.

And all things considered,

I'd miss hearing you in full voice.

The Sassni chuckled.

She knew Jeremiah liked nothing better than a bit of peace.

But it was a nice thing to say,

All the same.

The End