Page 6 of Muddled Magic

Otter blew another raspberry at his cousin, cracked his knuckles, then got to strumming Django Reinhardt’s “Minor Swing.” In a combination of music and green magic I would never understand, Otter got the split pieces of wood to jump up and saunter away in an orderly line down the worn path through the trees. All but one of the black-and-white kittens who’d been so smitten with him immediately abandoned him to chase the wood. The split pieces would continue their parade in time with Otter’s music all the way back to the manor where they would then stack themselves against the wall by the kitchen, any overflow knowing to stack themselves in the auxiliary pile. The remaining kitten curled up in Otter’s lap, staring adoringly up at my cousin with its bright green eyes.

I made sure to step off the path to not hinder the woody procession and tried again. “Please, Boar.”

“Who’s your partner?”

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me like a stupid teenager thinking up a lie. Every chore has two people tasked to it. Who’s picking with you?”

After a beat, I answered sulkily, “Marten.”

“Ha!” Boar crowed, pausing his swing to look over a boulder of a shoulder at Otter. “Did you hear that growl in her voice?”

“Oh, I heard it,” Otter chuckled, his fingers not once skipping a note.

“Well now I’m definitely not switching with you,” Boar said. “One, because Marten’s an ass, and two, you can’t run away from that confrontation forever. Just man up and face it quick, for all our sakes.”

“But you have no idea how insufferable he’s going to be!”

“What did you think we listened to all day yesterday?”

I was running out of options, out of persuasion techniques. “I’ll… I’ll duel you for it.”

Otter’s fingers sputtered on his guitar strings, the blocks of wood quaking before collapsing on the ground, and Boar buried his axe into the chopping block before marching forward, getting right into my face. “What did you just say?”

Straightening my spine, I replied, “You heard me.”

“Yeah, I did. And you best be careful slinging challenges around like that,” he said, stabbing me in the chest with his finger. “Someone might actually take you up on it one of these days.”

Boar paused, searching my face. “But I’m not stupid, Meadow. You’re Grandmother’s prodigy. Ain’t no one winning a duel against you like this.” He straightened, rubbing his jaw, his eyes lowering from my face to my hips.

“What?” I asked, looking down at my dress. Had I spilled some apple butter on it during my walk over here?

“Just wondering when that brass set of balls grew in.”

Gasping, I whumped him on the arm. Both my cousins laughed as Boar returned to his axe and Otter resumed his playing, the split wood jumping upright once more to the sound of the music and marching out of the woods.

“Seriously, Meadow, you’re surprising me today,” Boar continued. “You’re normally such a pushover. It’s refreshing to see you go after something you really want for a change. Even if it’s something as simple as this.”

“Excuse me? I am not a pushover.”

Now it was Boar and Otter’s turn to share a look. “Yeah, you are,” they answered.

“You’re the obedient one,” Otter continued. “You just say ‘yes, ma’am’ and do whatever Grandmother tells you to.”

“We all do that!”

“Yeah, but if there’s something we really want, or feel strongly about, we speak up about it,” Boar said.

“I’ve never seen you—”

“Of course not in public,” he admonished. “We’re not about to question her in front of the family, but…”

“Privately, it’s another matter,” Otter finished. “How do you think I got to go to Europe in my gap year to hone my guitar skills?”

“And you?” I asked Boar. “Did you want her blessing to try out a new supplement to make your muscles bigger?”

Without looking at either of us, he said, “I told her last month I wanted to start looking for a wife. She contacted the directory the same hour. I’ve had three dates since then.”

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