Honeycomb by Joanne Harris (book series for 12 year olds .txt) 📕

work,” she said to the craftsman. “It’s hardly my fault that you failed to repay the money that I invested in you.”

Once more, the craftsman tried to reason with his shopkeeper friend. But as time passed, his friend became increasingly cold and distant. His letters remained unanswered; his pleas for a meeting were ignored. Finally, one day, as he was passing the city flea market, he saw his glasswork on sale there. Some of it was broken, all of it was dusty, and it was priced so cheaply that the man was amazed and angry.

“What is this glassware on sale here?” he asked the market-stall holder.

The market-stall holder shrugged. “It’s just some scrap that a merchant in town couldn’t manage to get rid of.”

And now, at last, the craftsman understood that the shopkeeper had never been his friend, and that she cared nothing for his work. And so he went back to his village, and to the things he understood, and continued to work in wood, and in glass—and sometimes in stone, or clay, or bronze—whenever the fancy took him.

The shopkeeper and the merchant of glass were both disappointed to see him go. But as they knew from experience, artists were temperamental, and unaccustomed to business.

11

T

HE

W

OLVES AND THE

D

OGS

In a time of famine and drought, the animals of a certain farm were badly in need of strong leadership. The pastures were almost exhausted; the river almost dry; and from the forests and out of the wilderness, wolves were coming to feed on the sheep. Something had to be done, and fast.

“Let us elect a leader to protect us,” said the Sheep.

The Dogs, traditionally herders of sheep, agreed with this, and made their case most eloquently. “If you elect a Dog,” they said, “we will keep you safe from the Wolves. And we will divide the pastures fairly so that no one has to starve.”

But some of the other animals objected. “We don’t want to eat grass,” said the Hens. “We want corn and barley.”

The Pigs agreed. “Bread, and cornmeal!”

“Hay,” said the Horses. “Oats and hay.”

Some of the younger Dogs chimed in, saying, “What good is hay or corn to us? We are Dogs. We need fresh meat!”

At this, one of the Wolves, who had crept closer to listen to the debate, spoke up. “Choose a Wolf to lead you,” he said, “and I promise you food in abundance.”

This sounded attractive to the younger Dogs, although the Sheep were less convinced. “But won’t you eat us all?” they said. The Wolf smiled broadly at the Sheep and said, “We must all make sacrifices, but we can survive together. And, unlike the Dogs, I can protect you all against the other predators.”

The Sheep debated among themselves. Some of them were still afraid. But the Wolf was very persuasive, and some of the young Dogs were on his side, lured by the promise of food for all. “The old Dogs are weak and toothless,” they said. “Better vote for the Wolf instead. The Wolf will bring prosperity.”

“That makes sense,” said the Sheep. “And besides, if even the Dogs believe that a Wolf could do a better job, then who are we to disagree?”

And so the Sheep, who were in the majority, voted the Wolf as their leader. The Wolf brought in some of his friends to help, and soon they were settled in happily.

“What happened?” said the older Dogs. “How could we have lost the vote?”

The Wolves sneered. “Losers,” they said, tucking into the carcass of a freshly slaughtered Sheep. “We have ended the famine.”

“Er, not really,” said a Sheep, who happened to have overheard.

But the older Dogs had been greatly moved. “That’s where we went wrong,” they said. “That’s how we lost the confidence of our younger pack members. If only we had been more like the Wolves, then we might be in charge by now!”

And so all the Dogs applied themselves to becoming as wolf-like as possible. They started to run around in packs, terrifying the other animals. They slaughtered sheep and cattle. They spread terror in their wake, and found that by doing so, they had solved both their own leadership problem and that of the meat supply.

A few of the Sheep protested. But they were only Sheep, of course, and no one really cared what they thought.

12

T

HE

G

IRL

W

HO

L

OVED THE

S

ILKEN

F

OLK

Once, there was a little girl who was always asking questions. One day, she said to her old nurse, “Tell me how you lost your eye.”

The nurse, who had a porcelain eye as blue and white as a china plate, said, “I don’t remember. Maybe I left it lying around, and one of the Silken Folk stole it away.”

“The Silken Folk?” repeated the girl.

“There are as many tribes of them as there are people in our world. They’re everywhere; in the food you eat; in the fruit you pick from the tree; on the path; in the air you breathe; in your house and in your bed; and when you die, the Silken Folk will be there still, feeding on what’s left of you.”

“That’s horrible!” exclaimed the girl.

“That’s life, my dear,” said the nurse. “Life is filled with horrors. But never hurt an insect, child—not a bee, or a wasp, or a moth—or the Lacewing King will get you, for sure, and then you’ll be in trouble.”

The girl said, “Who’s the Lacewing King?”

“Some call him Lord of the Flies,” said the nurse. “Some call him King of the Faërie. He lives under the forest floor, and underneath the mountains, and in stagnant water, and in the trees, and his people have always been in the world, even before First Man and First Woman.”

And she sang a little song to the girl; a song that the honeybees used to sing:

“He has a coat of a thousand eyes,

Far away, far away,

His people fill the summer skies,

Believe me, child, believe me.”

“Have you seen him?” said