Some time later, Howard stood on Amaldea’s leg while she sat in the crook of an oak tree. It was Sunday, when the people of Garoo went to their church. Amaldea never felt comfortable there and the Mrs. Gadsby was none too eager to be seen in public with the girl; nor was the rest of the family, for that matter, so Amaldea had Sunday mornings to herself.
She preferred to spend her free time in the copse of trees above the village overlooking the stream. It was cool in the summer heat and few other people came here.
Today, Howard was teaching her of her family’s history.
Her family was Valais, she had learned; after years without a family name, years of wondering, she now knew it. To Amaldea, it now seemed surprisingly trivial: it made no difference to her life now, she was still an orphan with no family to take her away from the Gadsbys and Garoo.
She did have a talking mongoose now, but that didn’t seem to benefit her much.
“What can you teach me of use?” she asked.
Howard cocked his head to the side. “Use?”
“What can you teach me that will help me leave here,” Amaldea elaborated.
“Ah!” Howard said delightedly. “I was just coming to that, for it is my task to begin your education in the magical arts of your family!”
“Great,” said Amaldea. “How do we start?”
“Do you have an emerald amulet of some sort?” Howard asked.
“Yes,” Amaldea said and showed it. “Here.”
“Good,” Howard hopped onto her shoulder and pointed to an acorn. ”Call that to you,” he said.
Amaldea glanced at him, then said: “Acorn, come.”
The Acorn steadfastly refused to move.
“No,” Howard said. “That’s not how to do it.” He hopped onto a branch so he could look her in the face. “A word is not always what you think of it: change it, change the word until it sounds exactly like what it means to you, to command that acorn to come.” He hopped back onto her shoulder. “Now; command it to come, using your words.”
Amaldea thought for a moment, then said a word.
The acorn shifted, but did not break free from its twig. “Ow!” Amaldea grunted and clutched at her head.
“Very good!” Howard congratulated her. “Do not let the pain worry you, it will pass.”
And indeed it was already gone. “Why- why did it hurt?” Amaldea asked.
“Because you’re out of practice,” Howard replied. “With time it will disappear completely and never return.”
A sound below made them both quieten and glance down: a boy little older than Amaldea was walking below down to the river. “That’s Gal,” she hissed to Howard. “Hi, Gal!” she called and waved.
He stopped in surprise and looked wildly about, then glanced up, a little nervously. He smiled widely on seeing her. “Hi, Amaldea!” he called, waving wildly. “What are you doing up there?”
“I’m watching you!” she called back.
“Oh.” He seemed mildly disconcerted by this. “Well. . . don’t watch me too hard!” he said.
Amaldea sighed. “I won’t. What are you doing?”
“I’m going down to the river!” he said, pointing to it.
“Well, have fun!” she said.
Looking slightly relieved, Gal walked away.
Amaldea heaved a sigh of relief. “He’s hard to talk to,” she said to Howard.
“I see,” he said with a nod. “Well, I think that’s enough for today.”
“Yeah,” Amaldea agreed. “And if Gal’s here, that means they’re out of church; I better get back before they start to miss me.” That last was said a trifle sarcastically.
They climbed down the tree, then turned and started back toward the village.
Gal watched them go, nervously glancing at Amaldea then quickly away, lest she turn and see him staring at her.