Given the way I had "sussed out" John's thoughts
it was pretty obvious where we would start.
The mouse nodded at my suggestion and agreed to lead me to Salazar the
following weekend.
Once the van was parked up and ready, I set John down on the
ground and he set off, tail in the air, looking just like a real tour
guide. He took us along a long and
winding route where in places the forest began to resemble a jungle a little
bit, with vines and a muggy feel to the air and where, after half an hour or so’s
walk, the trees began to look more and more like they had been gnawed at, even
eaten away a little by some sort of chemical.
I shot John a quizzical look. He
just nodded and I guessed we were getting closer to our destination.
Upon our arrival I discovered that John was a charmed mouse
for sure. On approaching the great home
of the snakes we were ourselves approached by a snake guard who instantly made
to pounce on John for his brunch only to suddenly think better of it. After that initial moment and a brief interrogation-slash-chat
we were both treated as equals and a messenger was dispatched to fetch Salazar.
Salazar, very much unlike me, was a sociable animal. He lived in a nest with at least a thousand
other snakes of all sizes and colours.
Variation was huge among the species, the enchanted forest snake, as
Salazar had informed me at our first meeting.
There were pink and yellow snakes, blue and red, green and brown, purple
and white, and combinations went on and on.
The nest itself was formed in a clearing of its own. I was informed that it was built in a pit the
exact mirror opposite of the paper-formed (just like a wasp's nest!) dome that
could be seen above ground and was filled with a series of tunnels connecting
the hollows the snakes called home. And
still do, as far as I know.
I sat cross-legged against a tree at the edge of the nest's
clearing while John went for a wander and I spoke with Salazar: at first
remembering myself to him before running the plan I had come prepared with past
him, amending it a little with Salazar's advice and suggestions.
Soon we laid in wait in every bush around three sides of the
unicorn’s clearing ready to flush her out of the fourth side and toward the van
and sweet victory. If it worked, that
was. Salazar had assured me that
unicorns were scared as hell of snakes, especially these "creepy talking
ones," as he put it. So it could
work - she would surely bolt - but would they be able to control that run?
I began to find out at the epicentre of the afternoon when
the unicorn bounded into the clearing full of beans and ready and excited to
face the next challenge.
And so it was that, with the unicorn facing toward my side
of the clearing I shouted out the serpentine word for "NOW!" and the
stampede began.
Thin stripes of every colour flooded the clearance in an
instant and the unicorn quickly turned tail in the one direction available to
her. Salazar had told me the forest
snake could shift itself but I hadn't quite guessed just how fast, or even
believed him to be honest. I thought the
other snakes, cunningly hidden along the forest paths would provide the main
force in directing the unicorn to her capture.
Instead they were just the steering wheel to this great snake propelled
machine, the slower (both young and old) snakes that could not help provide the
main thrust.
Or so I supposed for there was no way I could have kept up,
even if it had been a part of the plan - this was the era of animal help after
all. Instead, while the snakes directed
the unicorn round the houses, so to speak, I legged it back to the van as fast
as possible by the quickest route. There
I was to wait for the unicorn and to slam the doors.
John was waiting upon my return, not fancying the chase much
himself - either on foot or in my shirt pocket - and so he‘d hiked back to the
van from the nest. And there we waited,
imagining how the unicorn would suddenly appear flanked and followed by rivers
of snakes, leaping into the van as the only possible option.
There we waited a considerably long time before a weary
looking snake slithered dejectedly out of the undergrowth to apologise for
their failure, the unicorn had overcome her initial fear and, once she had done
that, was just too wily with her sudden turns and jumps across the snake's
ranks, breaking them and getting the wrong side, meaning they were unable to
overtake and so finally lost her somewhere close to the ancient wizard stones
or maybe the great (haunted) lake, they couldn't be sure.
I told Salazar it was alright, not to worry and I thanked
him for his time before returning home to consult John on the next plan. And to build a board to aid communication.
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