- You'll never be a mudl, despite all your technical stuff! Leave me alone at last!
The scream was hard for Mergie. She had never yelled at anyone before, especially not for nothing. She was wrong. She was disgusting and must have lost a friend now. This understanding came when Gutter's room door slammed shut. Mergia looked at her stupidly, and she had an idiotic habit of wrapping a strand of hair around her finger. They faded as if they had been poured with rusty water. It was all because of that. Everything.
Mergue got out of bed and walked towards the exit of the room. She pressed her palms against the door and touched her forehead.
- Porrie... - she whispered, not believing that Butter was still here.
She went back to bed and stared at the attached plaque. Wizardus anemia. Something turned upside down inside again, and tears came to her eyes. Mergie rushed to the bed and covered herself with a blanket. As a child, she always did so when she was afraid - covered and muttered kindergarten spell Lie, not find or even more kindergarten Mom behind the wall. And it became calm, it was possible to fall asleep, having embraced the favourite teddy crocodile with clock ticking inside - a gift of the oddly English uncle who once by chance has enchanted own hand and has turned it into a hook.
But now she didn't even have a stupid spell working without a stick. There was no uncle, no mom, nothing. And she slept very badly, barely slept at all, but only thought and feared. Where would she go now? They wouldn't leave her at school, they couldn't go home - never, ever, ever, ever, because her friends from the yard would laugh. To Brainless? Only to Brainless. Where there will be nothing at all. And, most importantly, where there will be no Porrie. The hay will not be there either, but for some reason, it is not so important.
Mergie put her hand under the pillow and felt a small metal object there. A nut, one of the many nuts lying around in Gutter's room. Porrie would throw them all the time, forget about them, lose them, and, swearing, take them out from under the bed, then out of sneakers, and once even dig them out of his own bamboo magic wand. He was very funny at times like this. It was the cute one, not the ridiculous one. One day, Mergie couldn't resist and for some reason took one nut for herself. I just wanted to, you know. That's what I would say if someone was interested if someone asked why the witch carries a Moodle nut with her. Now no one will ask. She is no longer a witch.
Mergie stuck her face in her pillow and cried.
***
Father Browning was standing by the window and going through the rosary. It seems he prayed, or what is the name of Moodle witchcraft? Moodles like to talk, not only to each other but also to someone invisible. Porrie, hoping that the investigator priest was carried away by his conversation, tried to slip past. He didn't bypass three mentor patrols to get caught by a strange guy with piercing light eyes and a grudge against everything magical. This guy suspects him, and...
- What's your hurry, Mr Gutter?
...and this guy just stopped him. At least shout the Shuher the Leader spell and drop two tons of toothpaste on the investigator. Porrie sighed and said hello to the harmful priest, wishing him to be eaten by a dragon or at least a couple of hungry dews:
- Good evening. And I'm here... walking...
- On the run?
Browning said without turning his head. He slowly put the rosary in his pocket and put his hands behind his back, as all the detectives in the Moodle films had done. Only in Moodle movies, it wasn't impressive. And then Gutter literally grew up to the place where he stood, and replied with restraint:
- Sort of.
The detective finally turned to him, and suddenly Porrie saw a smile. Understanding. Pathetic.
- Pager or Aeslie?
- To Mergion,- Gutter quietly confessed and, warning the new question, sharply added: "Do not finish. To save. Madame Camfrey won't let her in.
Browning nodded satisfactorily.
"Wrap it up," Porrie thought sluggishly. "Won't wrap it!" - Encouraged by the enlightenment. Seems to be the one that made you carry the nonsense behind the potato dragon. It was a long time ago.
- Run. Only quietly.
And the priest turned his back on the window, continuing his interrupted conversation.
- Thank you! - and shouted out and picked up speed again.
Read the second part here