Trixie looked up at the night sky, her mouth drawn up in a cunning smile. The moon looked several times its size, and had exchanged its silvery hue for a golden glow. The unicorn knew that tonight was the night. After weeks of studying from the ancient book, she was finally ready. She glanced back ahead of her at the forest of dark, twisted trees. The book had told her what lay sealed away in those trees for ages, desperate to get out. It was wild, it was ancient, and it was very powerful. It was perfect for Trixie’s questionable intentions. The unicorn looked at the dusty pages of the aged tome, and then at the seven-pointed star she had drawn in the dirt ahead of her. She had painstakingly followed each step to make sure everything was perfect. The spell wouldn’t work if even the slightest error was made. And she had a very small window of time to cast it. But if things went as planned, the results would be spectacular.
Trixie looked up at the moon one last time. Now was the moment. She couldn’t wait any longer. The unicorn reached down and picked up a turnip from her pile of magical tools. Very carefully she placed it in the dead center of the star. The effect was instantaneous. The very moment the turnip touched the earth, an explosion of energy threw Trixie back. The lines she had scratched into the dirt suddenly shone with an eerie yellow light. The cool autumn breeze suddenly picked up into a frightening gale, shaking dry, brown leaves from the forest’s branches. The leaves formed a crinkling river in the sky, and began to weave their way towards the star. Trixie watched in wide-eyed excitement as they circled around the symbol, slowly shrinking into the middle and forming a pillar of spinning leaves.
It was working. The spell was actually working. The unicorn giggled gleefully, taking enormous pride in herself. Crooked shafts of energy shot out from the miniature cyclone, connecting to the earth. Trixie knew that they were drawing upon the ancient powers of nature, a magic far older than any known. And then it stopped. The wind abruptly halted, the shafts of energy blinked out of existence, and the pillar of whirling leaves fell to the ground. Trixie’s face fell. For the briefest moment she thought she had failed. But as the leaves fell flat to the grounds, something remained where they had been spinning.
He was thin and sinewy, almost emaciated, with fur as black as coal. His light frame stood upon cloven hooves. A dark, tangled mane ran down his neck, each hair seemingly pointed in a different direction. Emerging from his brow were the twisting horns of a goat. His head was large, and his long muzzle bore an enormous grin. The teeth were yellowed and covered in plaque. His snarled tail wagged back and forth as he looked at Trixie with peculiar golden eyes. This creature could be none other than the timeless spirit of all that was wild and untamed: The Pooka.
Trixie was ecstatic. He looked every bit as bizarre as the book had described him. And he was all hers to control. The spell would make sure of that. It was brilliant. All that been required to appease him was a turnip. A single turnip. The thought of this made Trixie smile. If she was an ancient spirit, she wouldn’t have settled for anything less than a full banquet.
“Welcome, Pooka,” she said as she proudly strutted up to him, “I, The Great and Powerful Trixie, have summoned you to aid me in extracting revenge on my nemesis.” The Pooka let out a whinnying laugh, that like himself, seemed both old and young at the same time.
“Whit do ye take me for?” he cackled, “A peelie-wally imp?” He had a dry, raspy voice, and spoke with a peculiar accent. Trixie’s face suddenly went blank. This wasn’t part of her plan.
“Excuse me?” she asked, her voice suddenly quiet.
“Ah, yer a glaikit lass, ye are,” he snickered, “Thinkin’ ye could control the Pooka.” Trixie didn’t understand the words he was using, but from his tone it was clear what he was doing. He was making fun of her. Her face suddenly became a seething portrait of anger.
“How dare you mock the Great and Powerful Trixie!” she spat, “Especially when I just released you from your arboreal bonds!”
“And for that I thank ye,” said the Pooka, “Noo then, I’ll be aff.” Trixie’s face darkened as he turned to leave.
“You get back here this instant!” she shrieked, “I almost got caught stealing that book! I spent weeks learning that spell! It took me a whole day to get that stupid star drawn right! You aren’t going anywhere!” Her horn sparked violently as she sent a bolt of energy at the ungrateful creature’s hooves. Trixie gave a smug smile as the Pooka tumbled to the ground. It quickly disappeared, however, when he jumped up on his hooves and turned around, his enormous teeth exposed in a sneer.
“Oh, yer ganna regret that, ye gallus besom,” he growled as started towards her. Trixie's face fell as she suddenly realized just how stupid it was to offend a spirit who presumably held more power than her. She whirled around to run, but felt something wrap around her legs. The unicorn looked down to see the grass had suddenly tangled itself around her hooves, knotting her to the spot. When she glanced back up she found herself looking into the grinning face of the Pooka. All of her pomposity and arrogance shriveled up and died as the horned equine leered at her.
“I’m…I’m sorry…” Trixie whimpered with the demeanor of a frightened filly, “It’s just th-hat the b-book said you’d help me--”
“If ye had somethin’ tae give me,” finished the Pooka, “And I dinna see anythin’ ye planned to give me.”
“Yes I did!” cried the unicorn, “I gave you the turnip!” The Pooka let out his whinnying laugh again.
“The turnip?” he chuckled, “Ye think I’d help ye for a turnip? That was just tae get me here!”
“Then what do you want?” breathed Trixie. The Pooka didn’t respond verbally. He turned his head, his grin growing impossibly wide. From the look she saw in his eyes, Trixie was instantly able to tell exactly what he wanted.
“I-I--You--NO!” she cried, “Never! Not in a million years!”
“Och, wha not?” said the Pooka, “Yer a fine-lookin’ lass, and it’s a canny night-”
“I don’t want your help!” screeched Trixie as she uprooted the grass that kept her in place, “I don’t want anything to do with you!” The Pooka’s face darkened. Trixie's legs buckled with terror as his grin turned upside-down.
“Ye think I’m ugly, is that it?” he grumbled, “I’m not good enough for ye?”
“No!” Trixie shouted, “I mean, yes--I mean--” She let out a long sob of frustration. The Pooka rolled his eyes and sneered at her.
“Och, it’s yer loss then,” he snorted, “I’m aff. And by the way, ye might wanna get yerself a trim, plump-rump!” He let out his grating cackle, turned around, and ran off into the night.
Trixie let out a sigh as she watched him disappear down the road. Six weeks of her life were now wasted on summoning a creature that was apparently incapable of displaying gratitude. Trixie mumbled bitterly to herself as she tore herself loose from the grass that ensnared her hooves. Once she had freed herself she started over to her wooden cart. It was late, she was tired, and she had a lot of thinking to do tomorrow.
As she walked into the cramped quarters, she looked into her mirror. The bright moon allowed enough light for her to see her reflection. She screamed loud enough to be heard in the nearby town of Hoofington. Her mane was now a horrifying mess of snags and snarls, each hair tangled up with the next in a monstrosity of a rat’s nest.