A Boggart's Journey: Talented, #0.5

By Amy Hopkins

A boggart, a hobgoblin, and a very bad debt. What could go wrong?

 

Gibble isn't cut out for adventure. He'd much rather stay in the tea shop he runs with his master, Emma, tucked up with a good book and a warm blanket. 

He's a good boggart, though, and a good friend, so when Barg turns up on his doorstep being chased by an angry debt collector, Gibble knows it's up to him to help dig the mischievous hobgoblin out of trouble. After all, what are friends for?

A Boggart's Journey tells the the story of how Barg ended up owing Gibble a Really Big Favour, and acts as a prequel to A Drop of Dream, the first novel in the Talented series. It is a short story of 12,000 words. Just long enough to enjoy with a hot cup of enchanted tea, if you happen to have one ready.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amy Hopkins
• Release date: Oct 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9798215494943

Book preview

Do you have the whole Talented series yet?

A DROP OF DREAM

A DASH OF FIEND

A SPLASH OF TRUTH

A PROMISE DUE

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Part One

At half-past nine on this particular Monday morning, the Lattersby Tea Shop was closed. The usual bustle of customers was absent and the chime of metal spoons in china cups had ceased, replaced only by the soft rustle of a page as it scraped on Gibble’s large stomach when he turned it.

Gibble turned another page, enamoured with the story. A Boggart’s Journey, a memoir penned by Gibble’s second-cousin, had arrived only yesterday. The ancient creature was enjoying it as much for the rollicking adventures his cousin had described, as for the knowledge that his cousin was leading the very best life a boggart could lead.

Well, Gibble thought, looking around the cozy shop. Almost the best.

In fact, Gibble had never been so happy. Just last week he had celebrated his nine hundredth birthday. It had been a quiet affair, comprised of a simple dinner, a handful of cards wishing him the happiest of days, and a tall stack of books gifted to him by his master, the Lady Emma Beaumarchais.

The Lady had insisted Gibble did not look a day over five hundred, but the boggart knew that was not the case. The stubbled, whisker-like hair that grew over his skin had begun to thin, his big orange eyes did not shine quite like they used to, and the hard muscle that once covered his 7 foot frame had begun to soften. Of course, his stomach had always been round enough to act as the perfect resting place for a good book—as any good boggart's stomach should—and the loose-wrinkled skin around his neck really did make him look at least a hundred years younger.

Gibble scratched that stomach absentmindedly, as he decided that, all things given, he was doing pretty well for a boggart of his age. Not only had he held onto his good looks, he quite enjoyed his current job. Although he had been quite sceptical when Lady Beaumarchais suggested he spend his time serving customers and selling tea instead of playing tricks and souring milk, he had to admit that he quite liked the change. Never in his life had he met so many fascinating creatures from the Other.

It do be good to have a day to a boggart's self, though, he mused, cracking the book back open to where he had left off. Now, where did I be up to?

Just as Gibble found his place in the story—an interesting passage about the protagonist’s attempts to spoil a pat of butter—he was interrupted by a scratching sound at the door. A moment later, it flew open, only to be slammed shut again.

Panting so hard that his tiny chest strained against the buttons of his waistcoat, with a thin sheen of sweat crossing the green skin of his bald forehead, stood a hobgoblin. His long, pointed ears twitched with a nervous energy and his cord toes drummed anxiously on the wooden floorboards. Oh, fortuitous fortunes, flowery friend. I am utterly excitable to see that you are here!

Gibble gave a long-suffering sigh, shut the book, and placed it flat on his stomach. "And what be making you so excited, friend