Story: The Potion Master's Apprentice
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The purple liquid inside the square bottle sparkled with flecks of gold. Annabel tipped the contents into a metal bowl. Then she found a tub of strange yellow stones. She threw them all in as well. Finally, there was a jar full of the tongues of some unfortunate animals.
Annabel mixed it all together with a large wooden spoon, bringing her candle closer so she could see. The potion changed colours many times. Annabel was thrilled. But then she heard a noise. The potion master had woken up. Quickly, Annabel hid the bowl under the table, and she crept back to her bedroom.
Annabel woke up early, like always. As the potion master’s apprentice, she had to make his breakfast before he came downstairs, clean his laboratory before he started to work, and sell potions to his customers before he had finished making them.
Annabel entered the kitchen and started to make the porridge. The potion master’s dog sat down next to her, and Annabel petted it.
“Ooh, that feels nice,” said the dog.
Annabel jumped and threw the porridge all over the ceiling.
“Careful!” barked the dog. “You almost hit me!”
“You can talk!” cried Annabel.
“There was a bowl under the table in the laboratory. It smelled really nice. I tried some. And now I can talk! Isn’t it wonderful?”
“No!” Annabel hissed. “I am going to be in so much trouble!”
“Who are you talking to?” came the voice of the potion master from the dining room. “Where is my porridge?”
“She’s talking to me!” barked the dog excitedly.
“Shh!”
“Who’s in there with you?”
Before Annabel could do anything else, the door opened and the potion master came in, carrying a mug of coffee. He saw the pot on the floor, the porridge on the ceiling, and the dog jumping towards him.
“Good morning, master!” said the dog, and the potion master spat his coffee onto the ceiling as well.
But Annabel didn’t get into trouble. It wasn’t long before the potion master realised he could sell Annabel’s potion, and that he needed her to make it again. Soon, their shop was busy from dawn till dusk.
Everyone in the town wanted to talk to their animals. Common folk wanted friendship with their pets, farmers wanted animals they could give instructions, and the rich wanted to spy on their rivals. Before long, Annabel and the potion master could afford fine clothes and sumptuous meals.
One evening, as they enjoyed a dinner of roast pork, there was a knock at the door. “Who’s that?” the dog barked excitedly. Annabel got up and opened the door.
There was a horse standing in the doorway. It pushed its way inside, followed by two more. They were huge beasts with black hair, and they did not look friendly. Annabel could see there were even more horses waiting outside.
“Which of you knows the recipe?” neighed the first horse loudly, baring its teeth.
“Her! Her!” cried the potion master. He grabbed his cloak and fled out the back door.
Annabel and her dog backed into a corner as the horses closed in on them.
“You work for that man?” asked the horse.
Annabel nodded.
“Not anymore.”