The icy range of the Granite Mountains looks desolate. Yet living in it are the stonemasons whose life is flinty as the granite they hew, and their laws are merciless. At the foot of Granite Mountain lies the verdant, luxuriant Lemon Drop Valley, the Silicon Valley a hundred years from now. No one can descend there, for the only pathway to the valley is kept secret by the Royal House of stonemasons. Nevertheless, our little hero, Spark, learns the secret and plummets to the valley.
There he is captivated by lingering, intoxicating smells of tropical plants, is greeted by twin moons, encounters a giant who converses with a monument, finds himself strolling on a splendid seaside promenade, falls in love with а local beauty, and teams up (under very strange circumstances) with a rhymester Tonino who helps him sneak into the Great Wizard’s castle.
Inside the castle, he witnesses a secret Forum of Wizards in action and some frightening transformations performed by the magic Mash-fatum.
When he feels at ease in the magical valley and even produces a fantastic Behemot poem, Spark latches onto the illusory nature of his expectations and, with a broken heart, resolves to return to Granite Mountain.
Here is Spark’s poem:
There flew a giant walrus,
As fat as mega-moth,
Both hideous and wordless,
Well nigh a behe–moth.
But absent from his muzzle
Were white and bulging tusks,
And here was my puzzle:
Was walrus just a mask?
For tusks he wore the whiskers
As black as friar’s cloth,
As jovial as friskers,
Well nigh a behe–moth.
He bullied with his forepaws.
Who saw it, will fathom,
Yet lured with all his four paws:
Well nigh a behe–thom.
But truth be said, he was a cat:
An awful peril and a threat
For Bertha who was just a mouse
And didn’t even have a spouse.
