Spindle excerpt, 3

“Well,” said the boy, “I went all through that house — the top floor, at least, and I saw all sorts of things that the giant has taken from other people. There’s armor, there’s treasure; I even saw a phoenix feather (I think, or something like it) standing in an ink pot! Why do people let Mudferthing get away with it?”
“Well, what,” said Kibber, “do you think people should do? And who do you think should do it?” He had crossed his arms across his chest, and looked like a grandfather who could not wait to hear his grandchild explain a spilt honey pot.
“I think people should stop him,” said the boy. “There’s all sorts of heroes and knights and hunters in the Forest of Anything, isn’t there? You’ve already told me about the King’s gamekeeper and how he was so good at guarding the King’s land that the King made him guard his people and castle as well, and the Lorrigan has all kinds of –“
Shh, boyo, I get your point.” Kibber looked over his shoulder to make sure no one had heard. “But you don’t know about Mudferthing; if you did, you’d understand.”
“Then tell me,” said the boy.
Kibber gave him his very best angry look, but the boy didn’t budge. Kibber sighed. “Fine, boyo. If you must know, Mudferthing cannot be hurt.”
The boy frowned. “What, by anything?”
Kibber nodded. “There is nothing in Anything that can cut Mudferthing’s hide, and nothing so heavy it can crack his noggin wide — that’s how the saying goes, and that’s why heroes (and those who aren’t so much heroes) the land over can only dream of getting what was once theirs back from Mudferthing — no one can kill him, so they know that no matter what, he’ll come after them, and he’ll find them.”
The boy thought for a long time.
“I suppose that only makes sense,” he finally said. Kibber nodded and went on his way, sure that he had gotten his young friend to see reason.
But he whispered to himself after Kibber had gone. “I suppose it makes sense, except I don’t believe it.”

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