The Last of the Thing

Roughed-in cicada around the corner from the wasp, by Nick Sweetnam

The Ruler of a small but pleasant realm was in her chambers, with the Wizard, her most skilled improvisor. They both looked worried.

It had been thirty three days since the Thing had last spat up its so far only stunning gem of incalculable value, quite contrary to the Wizard's calculations.

"I'd looked it up in the Monsters encyclopedia," he explained. "Money-eating mammal-bird hybrids are exceedingly rare. In fact there has been only one other of its kind ever recorded. 

"That one also ate metal and coughed up gems. It was twice the size of this one here, and produced a gem once every ten days, so I did the math. Half the size, twice as long to produce.

"It's just as possible," said the Wizard, "that this was a one-time event. Monsters don't follow patterns. That's what makes them monsters."

The Ruler worried how the Greatest Ruler, her boss to the fifth power, would react to the news that the Thing's gem was a one-time wonder. She and the Wizard had already exhausted his Bag of Tricks deflecting messengers enquiring about the next gem.

"What happened to the other monster?" asked the Ruler, "the one like the Thing that ate metal and coughed up gems?"

"It died in a fire," said the Wizard.

"That's tragic," said the Ruler. "Do you find it cold in here?"

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen