Basilisk Eyes

Chapter 95: Goats

Harry felt as if the mud was trying to pull his wellies off. He was using his staff more like a cane to keep himself from toppling into the muck; he was glad that it was sturdy. The mud was fetid—it smelled like rotting leaves, piss, and manure. There was a buzz of flies that erupted with every step. Each suctioning step made the odor rise around him and he struggled not to gag. He didn't blame Mei for holing up in the Farm house. Besel was very patiently talking to her, trying to convince her to venture out.

Arig and Aminah were struggling through the mud near Harry, Gemma and Peter were a bit farther along—nearing the fenced area where Harry could hear the goats yelling at them. It must be feeding time.

Besel came breezing by him. "You're doing great. Just a few more feet and you'll be out of the worst of it... well, until we get into the pens. I'm going to catch up with Gemma and Peter."

"Is Mei coming?" Aminah asked, her wellies squelching in the muck.

"Yes, I'm right here—just bobbing along like a giant fish lantern during the Lunar New Year behind Besel." Mei's sardonic reply came from higher up than usual.

"That's the way to travel!" Arig hooted in delight. "C'mon! Healer Geller! Let us fly over the mud, too! Get me out of this muck—it's trying to take my Wellie off."

Harry paused for a second, tempted to get his broom out of his staff.

"You're getting along just fine!" Besel encouraged from across the yard.

Finally, Harry made it to the wood fence where Gemma, Peter, Besel, and Mei were waiting. He ran his hands over the worn planks. Aminah and Arig were right behind him—Arig's breath was labored as if he'd just run a distance. Harry had managed not to fall in the mud. Aminah was not quite so lucky, but she didn't get hurt and Besel had helped clean her up. Harry swatted at flies that kept wanting to land on his ears and nose.

"The goats are happy to see us. They are hungry and ready to be milked," Besel said.

"Milked? No way are we milking goats!" Mei exclaimed.

"Well, I'll do most of the milking, but you can assist and give it a try if you're interested," Besel said. "It takes a while to get the hang of it. Let's throw them some hay and then we'll come back for milking after we visit the chickens."

"Arig, can you grab a flake of hay?" Besel instructed.

Harry listened as Arig made his way slowly over to a nearby barn that he knew was there thanks to his staff. It sounded like the mud wasn't so bad by the building that was situated on higher ground and Arig wasn't slipping around as much as he had been in the middle of the yard where the rainwater had puddled, creating the deep ruts of muddy sinkholes that they had just crossed.

Harry heard the hay rustling as it passed by him and then land in some kind of container on the other side of the fence—he guessed that Arig had sent it to the goats, rather than try to carry it while managing his crutches in the mud.

"Er, Healer Geller, I don't think I'm going to be able to go near the livestock," Arig announced from the barn. "They are already looking cagey. I'll just stay over here and rest." Harry could hear the sound of hay moving and guessed that Arig was settling down on a hay bale.

"Right, that's probably wise," Besel agreed.

Harry used his staff to identify Gemma and Peter who were standing at the fence and let them know he was there by waving across their backs.

Mei was describing the goats to Aminah—though her descriptions focused on how muddy they were. He had always wanted to visit a farm ever since he was a kid devouring picture books at the local library and he wasn't going to let Mei spoil it for him. Granted, those books never really described the odors... or the ravenous mud.