Muggah smiled slightly. “Can’t go on without pie. I’m so frail, so needing of sustenance . . .”
“But,” Hycy exclaimed, “You didn’t tell us if Shem—”
“Forget Shem,” Vid cut her off. “She didn’t get to the part when they went to—”
“Ohh,” Muggah sighed loudly and put a hand dramatically to her forehead. “Need pie. No more words until pie. Memories . . . fading . . . only restored by . . . pie.”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Hycy rolled her eyes. Vid nodded in disgusted agreement at the old woman sitting in the garden with them. “We’ll find you pie, all right?” Hycy said.
Muggah winked at them. “Pie for words, then. And don’t worry—the story will still be waiting for you,” she promised as the teenagers stood up and brushed off their clothes.
“And a glass of milk would be nice to go along with it,” she announced as they trudged off. “And a napkin. I’m not a filthy Guarder just sitting out here in the dirt, you know.”
She grinned as they groaned loudly.
Then she looked up at the warm sun and laughed.