Chance by Nancy Springer Read Free Book Online

haste, and burbling laughter sounded from all around. Then a small brown form shot through the air and landed like a squirrel beside the other. It was the Denizen Chance had first bespoken, the handsome russet-colored young prince of them all.
    â€œPay no mind, Chance,” he said. “Fate is unkind.”
    â€œAnd you, I suppose, are kinder,” Chance retorted sourly.
    â€œIndeed so! Listen, and you shall know.” The young Denizen paused for effect, and crouched down on his bough in a manner as of a conspirator. “In the midst of Wirral,” he said in a lowered voice, “in the very fundament of it, stands a tree which bears nuts such as those you lack.”
    Chance snorted aloud. “You must take me for an ass,” he said.
    â€œYou doubt it? When Wirral grows thick as grass?”
    Chance scowled; they were rhyming with him, now. “What of it,” he said curtly, “if there is such a tree?” For he did not know all that lay in the penetralia of Wirral; no one did. Stranger things than what the Denizen named might be there.
    â€œWhat of it? Chance!” The Denizen prince seemed aghast. Still standing beside him, the female took up the tale.
    â€œJust do as we say—”
    Other voices joined in.
    â€œPluck the nuts from that bole,”
    â€œAnd you will be whole,”
    â€œAnd join the dance within the day!”
    â€œBah!” Chance exploded, but he did not turn away. If the small folk were bejaping him, they had judged nicely as to their bait. He could not turn away, not while there was even the fool’s chance that they were speaking truth. In no mindly sense did he believe them, but he had heard tales of these folk, their many powers. He had to risk.…
    â€œDanger?” he demanded.
    The Denizen prince stood up, stiffly erect, cock jutting. “Some small peril,” he admitted. “Do you care for that?” Glint of his amber eyes gave the dare to Chance.
    â€œBah!” Chance sputtered again. “Which way?”
    Instead of replying, the copper-colored Denizen turned to the surrounding forest. “What say ye?” he cried. “Shall we guide him thither?”
    Blast the cock-proud rascal, Chance fumed, he’ll have me begging next for my chance to be gulled.
    The cry went up from all around.
    â€œAway, say we!”
    â€œTo the cullion-nut tree!”
    â€œWhither, thence! Hither, hence!” the Denizen prince shouted crazily, and he vanished as handily as a squirrel, within an eyeblink. A birdlike laugh sounded somewhere, and then there was silence. Chance lurched forward.
    â€œWhere are you?” he shouted, trying to keep the fury out of his voice. Be cursed the lot of them, truly they would have him begging! For what folly? A ball tree!
    â€œHere!” came a teasing voice from somewhere far ahead.
    â€œThis way!” another cried gaily from a somewhat different direction. “With a dildo hey! Away, we say!”
    Panting with anger even before he began, Chance ran toward the voices.
    â€œFull merrily away say we!”
    And indeed they led him a merry chase through the drizzling rain. Tearing through bracken and stumbling through stones, up scarp and down dingle, into thorn thickets that pierced him even through his leathern clothing, that would have liked to have taken his eyes. The Denizens, he decided, must have some plan for him after all, for they slowed their pace to wait for him. But as soon as he stumbled out of his difficulties they were off again as wildly as ever, and he must needs trail after, with no breath left even to curse.
    â€œChance Lord’s man, he ran and ran …”
    Already they were making a song of it. They would be amusing themselves with the tale, Chance deemed, for the winter’s span, perhaps longer. No matter, for he had to know the end of the story. He ran through the waning day until the gray sky darkened into dusk. No matter, again. There