Kalei-do-goat
“This has to be a joke.” A gust of wind drug the scent of manure and hay across Matthew’s face, cutting through his wool university coat and chilling his bones beyond their usual icy state. He shoved his hands into his pockets, internally pushing down the crackling, frozen ball of manna that swirled inside him. “Please, be joking.”
Dull black eyes stared back at him, uneven horns poking out of the top of its scruffy skull, an erratic patchwork of rainbow hued, coarse hair covering it from nose to tail.
The girl holding the lead rope scowled, crossing her arm, apparently unbothered by the November chill tousling her dirty overalls and black bob.
“I assure you,” the professor said, smoothing down his tie, “a lot of thought has gone into it. I know it isn’t ideal, but this was the most efficient method the university board could come up with for the time being.”
“The most efficient…” Matthew tore his eyes from the technicolored barnyard creature to glare at the old man. “A goat?”
The professor grinned. “It’s fascinating, really. A feat of biology. They’re called… what was it again?”
“Kalei-do-goats,” the girl said, her glare still locked on to Matthew.
“Kalei-do-goats,” Matthew repeated.
“Mahahaha!” the little beast bellowed.
“It’s a specialized breed.” The professor went on quickly.
“They’re found to be incredibly efficient at manna consumption via mere proximity, something of a magical sink hole, if you will. For most wizards in training, that’s a problem, but for you…”
The goat relieved itself.
Matthew’s nose crinkled.
The girl rolled her eyes.
The professor sighed, his tall frame sagging. “I know this is a lot. But, it’s practically a God send in your case.”
“I beg to differ.” Matthew huffed into his hands, his cheeks tingling, fighting the shiver growing in his spine. It was hard to think when his manna built up this thick,
his mind half frozen.
“I don’t need a goat. I need to build up stamina so that I can actually burn through all this.”
The professor sighed deeper. “Matthew, we’ve been over this. It takes time to build magical stamina. And in the meantime…” He gestured at the horned creature.
“This is preposterous,” Matthew grumbled, jamming his hands back in his pockets. “I don’t need a Kalei-do-goat. I need to build strength.”
The professor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Matthew…”
“Professor, I can-”
“Oh, get over yourself!” the girl snapped, stomping up to Matthew, the little goat trotting behind her. “You’re buzzing with manna, practically coiling in on yourself with the tension of it. It’s a wonder you’re even upright.”
Matthew bristled, instinctively trying to stand a little taller as he opened his mouth with retort, but she shoved the lead into him, startling the shiver loose to rip through him.
She shook her head. “You might not care if you explode from manna overload, but there’s a lot of us that ain’t interested in being drug to glory with you.”
“I’m not planning on blowing up,” he snapped, holding the rope out to her. “I’ll beat this.”
She glared up at him, dark brown eyes sparking hot with challenge, and perhaps a bit of compassion, black locks dancing across her face as the wind picked up.
“Good.” She slowly pushed his clenched fist back, her calloused hand warm on top of his. “‘til then, suck it up and take the goat.”
American historical fantasy, magical short story, historical flash fiction, goat short story, Nebraska flash fiction author, by SM Jake