Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction
When Gro had ended, the King turned him away and, taking from a shelf
a retort filled with a dark blue fluid, set it on a bain-marie, and
a lamp thereunder. Fumes of a faint purple hue came forth from the
neck of the retort, and the King gathered them in a flask. He made
signs over the flask and shook forth into his hand therefrom a fine
powder. Then said he unto Gro, holding out the powder in the open palm
of his hand, “Look narrowly at this powder.” And Gro looked. The King
muttered an incantation, and the powder moved and heaved, and was like
a crawling mass of cheesemites in an overripe cheese. It increased
in volume in the King’s hand, and Gro perceived that each particular
grain had legs. The grains grew before his eyes, and became the size
of mustard seeds, and then of barleycorns, swiftly crawling each over
other. And even as he marvelled, they waxed great as kidney beans, and
now was their shape and seeming clear to him, so that he beheld that
they were small frogs and paddocks; and they overflowed from the King’s
hand as they waxed swiftly in size, pouring on to the floor. And they
ceased not to increase and grow; and now were they large as little
dogs, nor might the King retain more than a single one, holding his
hand under its belly while it waved its legs in the air; and they were
walking on the tables and jostling on the floor. Pallid they were, and
permeable to light like thin horn, and their hue a faint purple, even
as the hue of the vapour whence they were engendered. And now was the
room filled with them so that they mounted perforce one on another’s
shoulders, and they were of the bigness of well fatted hogs; and they
goggled their eyes at Gro and croaked. The King looked narrowly on Gro,
who stood in the presence of that spectacle, the crown of Witchland in
his hands; and the King marked that the crown trembled not a whit in
Gro’s hands that held it. So he said a certain word, and the paddocks
and the frogs grew small again, shrinking more swiftly than they had
grown, and so vanished.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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