Shardae the Sundae Snail

Every sundae snail is made from 100% cotton yarn, unless requested otherwise. Other color palates available upon request. Please allow a month of production time. Because the sundae snails are hand-made, expedited production time is not possible, although we don’t expect it to take a full month.

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To skip the story and order your Granny, email me at dressedlilies@gmail.com, and we’ll get all the details sorted out! 🙂

(If you’re like me, you’re not here for the product but the pattern. Well, my dears, this Sundae snail pattern is from Knot Bad on Ravelry. Have fun and happy making!)

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Kaan the Khan had a problem; he reflects as he paces the length of his cell. His problem is that he had accidentally stepped on a stick while he was scouting, leading the enemy to find, capture, and disarm him. Which meant, of course, that they had taken his staff. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cast spells without his staff–his power was stored in the ink of his tattoos, just like any witch. But Kaan had always had a problem focusing his power, and the staff really helped with that. Sort of like how a spyglass helped in seeing things far away. It wasn’t that you couldn’t see things far away without it, but it made that a lot easier and the item you were focusing on a lot clearer.

Waist-down picture of a man with a staff stepping on a stick and making it crack. Man is wearing robes

Of course, the enemy hadn’t known that’s what the staff was for. That was small comfort, seeing as how it wouldn’t have changed the situation he was in now if they had. They definitely would’ve taken it away had they known it did that. No, Kaan’s enemies had taken the stick away because they were cruel. ‘Meanie-heads,’ as his granddaughter would call them. They enjoyed seeing a witch hobble about without a walking stick. Sadistic, that’s what they were.

That wasn’t the most significant problem Kaan the Khan had, though. No, Kaan’s biggest problem was that, even if he knew the way out of this infernal prison, none of the help he was trying to summon was coming out the way he’d hoped.

Finally, Kaan comes to a stop with his arms crossed, looking at the creature in front of him.

“Tell me what you are, again?”

The thing sighs, and he could swear it rolls its plastic eyes at him. Regardless, it introduces itself once more. “I am a sundae snail.”

Kaan crosses his arms and studies the creature. ‘Sundae snail’ about sums it up, he supposes.

“And how are you supposed to help me get out of here?”

The sundae snail looks indignant. “How am I supposed to answer that? You think I want to be here? I didn’t wake up this morning and think, ‘gee, you know what would really make my day, today? Getting summoned by an incarcerated, incompetent witch’!”

Kaan frowns and pushes the ink in his arm toward the creature in order to lift it threateningly into the air. The bench that–he thinks–is supposed to serve as his bed falls over. He frowns back at it before turning back to the creature. “I’m not incompetent. I’m perfectly able to preform my magic, thank you very much.”

“Which is why I’m here, I suppose?” The sundae snail shoots back, “because you’re so ‘perfectly abled’ as to have complete control of your abilities?”

“Y-yes.” He hates the certainty his voice was missing, “that’s exactly why you’re here. You’re to serve as a distraction to get me out of this place.”

“And be left to deal with whatever people were able to capture and detain a witch? No, thanks. Send me back to where I came from; I’m out of here.”

Kaan hesitates but then rolls his eyes, siphoning off a bit more ink. “Fine. You’ll be back with your people in two seconds, and good riddance.” He shoves the ink in the direction of the sundae snail. The ink changes to magic midair. A second sundae snail lands across from the first.

“Ow! That was rude! I was just about to beat–where am I?”

“Shardae?” The first sundae snail demands, surprise coloring its voice.

Kaan throws his hands in the air and paces in a circle.

“What happened?” the newcomer demands.

“Incompetent here was trying to send me back to my people. Looks like he did the opposite.”

The second sundae snail — Shardae, apparently — frowns. “What happens now? I’m guessing NSF doesn’t know where we are down here.”

“Only if you somehow cut your tracker out,” the first snail retorts, “I know I didn’t.”

“So even if I did, they’d still know where we are.”

Kaan hears an intake of breath, but the original sundae snail doesn’t say anything for a moment. “…yeah, I guess they do. So all we need to do is wait for them to get here.”

Kaan interrupts before the other sundae snail can respond. “And I don’t suppose these PDQ people–“

“NSF,” Shardae corrects gently.

“Yeah, them. I don’t suppose they might be able to help all three of us out of here?”

The first snail considers him. “…maybe. They deal in protecting the commonly strange, and a witch that can’t use their magic does seem to be that.”

Kaan blinks at the creature. “What does that mean–‘the commonly strange’? Are you insulting me?”

The snail rolls its eyes. “No.”

Shardae cuts off its companion with a gentler explanation, “it means something that deviates from the norm just a little bit. Something you might think was impossible. Like talking mimes.”

“Or witches that, somehow, even though they’ve lived for a good many years, somehow still can’t control their magic,” the first sundae snail cuts in.

Kaan scowls. “I can control my magic. Just… my staff helps, and these buffoons took it from me.”

“I stand by my statement,” the snail retorts.

Kaan groans and sits back on the bench. Except he’d knocked the bench over earlier, so what he actually does is fall on his butt. He wants to scream, but all he does is move past the bench, pull his hood over his head, and stare down at his hands. “How soon are they going to get here?”

Not nearly soon enough, as it turns out. Somehow, even though both sundae snails are made of yarn and stuffing, they seem to be melting by the time the rescue party arrives. But, come, they do. And, while Kaan isn’t entirely sure he’s not their prisoner, the room they set him up in is by far nicer than the cell he was in previously. So at least there’s that.

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