# Whimsy StoryBook

# Pip and the Additon Spell

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-for-oakley-cartwrigh" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/Ncoimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/Ncoimage.png)

</td><td>For Oakley Cartwright

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-pip-set-off-for-the-" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr style="height:10px;"><td>Pip set off for the Moonberry Fair in a red raincoat with a satchel full of chalk and a pocket full of courage.  
<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Well. A </span>**small**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> pocket.</span>

The path through Turnip Wood was quiet.

Too quiet.

Then—POP! POP! POP!  
Out bounced a band of bristly hobgoblins in button coats and crooked boots.

They grinned. They snickered. They blocked the road.

</td><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/E0oimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/E0oimage.png)

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-pip-knew-many-useful" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>Pip knew many useful things.

Pip knew where blackberries grew sweetest.  
Pip knew how to whistle through an acorn cap.  
<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Pip knew that </span>**2 raindrops on a snail look like tiny spectacles**.

And Pip knew simple addition.

But hobgoblins?

Hobgoblins were another matter.

</td><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/qMlimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/qMlimage.png)

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-the-smallest-hobgobl" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/hjqimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/hjqimage.png)

</td><td>The smallest hobgoblin snatched Pip’s snack basket.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“Ha!” he cackled. “I stole </span>**1 apple tart**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> and </span>**1 jam bun**. How many treats have I got?”

Pip swallowed.

Then Pip whispered,  
“**1 and 1 make 2.**”

At once, two bright stepping-stones blinked into the muddy road.

The hobgoblin’s hat spun sideways.

Pip blinked too.

“Count it quick, count it true—little sums can see you through!”

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

###   


<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-a-taller-hobgoblin-l" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>A taller hobgoblin leapt onto the stepping-stones.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“Then answer this! </span>**2 frogs**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> sat on a log, and </span>**1 more frog**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> jumped up. How many frogs?”</span>

Pip tapped a finger on the satchel strap.

“**2 and 1 make 3.**”

THRUM!

Three blue lanterns lit in the trees.  
The frogs croaked in a perfect chorus.  
The hobgoblin’s ears drooped.

Pip stood a little straighter.

</td><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/Gwlimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/Gwlimage.png)

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-another-goblin-cartw" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/7qeimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/7qeimage.png)

</td><td>Another goblin cartwheeled from a bush with glowbugs in a jar.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“I caught </span>**2 glowbugs**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">, then </span>**2 more**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> flew in. How many now?”</span>

Pip answered faster this time.

“**2 and 2 make 4.**”

FLASH!

Four turnip lanterns bobbed overhead like moons on strings.  
The goblin yelped and hid under a leaf.

“Count it quick, count it true—little sums can see you through!”

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-at-the-crooked-bridg" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>At the crooked bridge, a mossy hobgoblin dumped acorns into a boot.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“Fine, fine,” he grumbled. “What about </span>**3 acorns**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> and </span>**2 acorns**?”

Pip could almost feel the answer lining up in neat little marching boots.

“**3 and 2 make 5.**”

CLACK!

Five silver bridge-planks slid into place across the stream.  
The water below burbled, as if it approved.

Pip crossed one careful step at a time.

</td><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/mtVimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/mtVimage.png)

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-on-the-other-side-wa" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/Zldimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/Zldimage.png)

</td><td>On the other side waited two drumming hobgoblins and a circle of mushrooms.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">They boomed, “We picked </span>**3 mushrooms**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> here and </span>**3 mushrooms**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> there. How many mushrooms?”</span>

Pip took a breath.  
This one felt friendly somehow. Easy. Round.

“**3 and 3 make 6.**”

BUM-BUM-BUM!

Six mushrooms sprang up in a neat row like little stools.  
The drumming stopped.  
The hobgoblins stared.

Pip didn’t just stand straighter now.

Pip grinned.

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-but-then-came-the-bi" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>But then came the biggest hobgoblin yet, riding a wheelbarrow like a king.

He flung feathers everywhere.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“Add </span>**4 feathers**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> and </span>**3 feathers**, if you’re so clever!”

The feathers whirled.  
The leaves swirled.  
Pip’s heart did a nervous somersault.

Still—Pip counted.

“**4 and 3 make 7.**”

WHOOSH!

Seven windy kites burst from the trees and tugged the wheelbarrow right into a blackberry bush.

The kingly hobgoblin was no longer kingly.

He was mostly prickly.

</td><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/nLuimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/nLuimage.png)

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-at-the-gate-to-the-f" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>[![ChatGPT Image Apr 6, 2026, 07_07_07 PM.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/chatgpt-image-apr-6-2026-07-07-07-pm.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/chatgpt-image-apr-6-2026-07-07-07-pm.png)

</td><td>At the gate to the fair, the path went dark.

A whispery hobgoblin rattled a tin full of buttons.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“Last few, little counter. </span>**4 buttons**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> and </span>**4 buttons**. How many?”

Pip opened their mouth—

and nothing came out.

The woods felt big.  
The gate felt far.  
The hobgoblins leaned in.

Then Pip remembered the chalk.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Pip drew </span>**4 little circles**.  
<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Then </span>**4 more**.

“Oh,” Pip said, smiling. “I can see it.”

“**4 and 4 make 8.**”

Eight golden sparks skipped around the gate latch.

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-now-the-latch-was-gl" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>Now the latch was glowing, but still it would not open.

From above, a goblin dangled upside down from a branch.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“One more! </span>**5 blackberries**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> in one hand and </span>**4 blackberries**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> in the other. How many berries?”</span>

Pip didn’t even flinch.

“**5 and 4 make 9.**”

PING!

Nine bells rang across the fairground fence.  
The gate shivered.  
The hobgoblins shuffled backward.

Pip laughed. A real laugh this time.

</td><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/FJGimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/FJGimage.png)

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-then-the-hobgoblin-c" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/ah4image.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/ah4image.png)

</td><td>Then the Hobgoblin Chief stomped out, wearing a fern cape and a crown made of spoons.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">“You may know sums,” he growled, “but you cannot defeat </span>**all of us**!”

Pip looked carefully.

There were 5 **hobgoblins**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> on the gate, and 5</span> **hobgoblins**<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;"> on the wall.</span>

Pip pointed.

“**5 and 5 make 10.**”

BOOM!

Ten bright number-stars burst above the path.  
The spoon-crown spun.  
The fern cape flipped.  
<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Every hobgoblin tumbled into a soft pile of turnip leaves with a shocked little </span>**oof**.

The gate swung open.

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

<table class="align-center" id="bkmrk-moonberry-fair-spark" style="width:100%;border-style:hidden;"><colgroup><col style="width:240px;"></col><col style="width:240px;"></col></colgroup><tbody><tr><td>Moonberry Fair sparkled ahead.

Pip could have marched in alone.

But behind came ten rumpled hobgoblins, looking suddenly less fierce and more… embarrassed.

The Chief cleared his throat.  
“Would,” he muttered, “would you teach us the berry sums?”

Pip smiled and held the gate wide.

“Of course.”

And all the way to the bun stall, Pip sang,

**“Count it quick, count it true—little sums can see us through!”**

</td><td>[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/LEximage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/LEximage.png)

</td></tr></tbody></table>

---

# Oakley and the Honey on Mars

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[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/1NZimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/1NZimage.png)

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/6Ayimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/6Ayimage.png)

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/cyiimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/cyiimage.png)

Oakley was four years old and absolutely certain of three things.

He loved rockets.  
He loved adventures.  
And he loved honey on toast.

So when a shiny silver letter whooshed down from the sky and landed in his paddling pool, Oakley clapped so hard he nearly fell into the daisies.

It said:

**OAKLEY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO VISIT MARS?**

“Oh, yes,” said Oakley. “Very, very, VERY yes.”

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/UKuimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/UKuimage.png)**.**

Soon Oakley was zipped into a puffy space suit with round boots and a helmet like a fishbowl.

His little rocket rumbled.  
It roared.  
It zoomed past clouds, past the Moon, and out into the deep, dark sparkle of space.

Oakley pressed his nose to the window.

Mars glowed ahead, red and dusty, like a giant rusty marble.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/vQIimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/vQIimage.png)

When Oakley landed, he took the tiniest step…

and boinged!

Mars has less gravity than Earth, so Oakley felt lighter there. His boots made soft, springy hops across the ground.

“Bouncy boots, curious eyes,” Oakley giggled,  
“what a rusty, sticky, sweet surprise!”

He did not know about the sticky part yet.

But Mars did.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/Mdoimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/Mdoimage.png)

Mars was quiet.

Very quiet.

No trees swishing. No bees buzzing. No dogs barking. Just dusty wind whispering over red rocks.

Oakley remembered what he had been told:

“Mars is called the Red Planet because its dust is full of rusty iron.”

Oakley looked around.  
Red hills. Red pebbles. Red cliffs.

“Rusty planet,” he whispered.

Then his boot stuck to the ground.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/Ew6image.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/Ew6image.png)

“Squish,” said Oakley.

He looked down.

Under his boot was a golden, gooey blob.

Oakley poked it with one gloved finger.

It stretched.

It shimmered.

It smelled…

sweet.

Oakley blinked. “That,” he said slowly, “is definitely not ordinary Mars mud.”

He looked up.

All across the red ground were globs and glimmers and dribbles of golden honey.

Heaps of it!

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/EJJimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/EJJimage.png)

Oakley followed the honey trail over little rocks and through a shallow crater.

Ahead, he saw a giant mountain rising in the distance.

“That must be Olympus Mons,” said his chirpy backpack computer. “The biggest volcano in the solar system.”

Oakley stared. “The biggest?”

“The biggest,” said the computer.

Oakley nodded seriously. “Mars does not do things halfway.”

Then he slipped bottom-first into a honey puddle.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/nicimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/nicimage.png)

He slid past red stones.

He slid past sparkly pebbles.

He slid right into a hidden cave beneath the dusty hill.

Inside, everything glowed warm and gold.

There were amber honeycombs stuck to the cave walls. There were bright yellow flowers growing from cracks in the rock. There were tiny floating creatures with fluffy stripes and shimmering wings.

They were not bees.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">They were </span>**space buzblers**.

And they were making honey.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/YJLimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/YJLimage.png)

The space buzblers zipped in cheerful loops.

Bzzip! Bozzle! Bzzip!

They bounced from flower to flower, gathering sweet golden nectar and tucking it into wobbling honeycombs.

Oakley laughed. “You’re honey makers!”

The buzblers wiggled proudly.

Above the cave roof, evening came, and through a crack Oakley could see Mars’s two little moons—Phobos and Deimos—peeking down like curious pebbles in the sky.

Mars, Oakley decided, was showing off now.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/z9eimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/z9eimage.png)

But then Oakley noticed something else.

Honey was spilling everywhere.

It dripped down rocks.  
It plopped into puddles.  
It oozed right across the cave floor.

The buzblers were trying very hard, but their combs were too full and too wibbly.

“Ohhh,” said Oakley. “You don’t need a taster.”

The buzblers paused.

“You need a helper.”

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/gtpimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/gtpimage.png)

Oakley got to work.

He stacked flat red stones into little shelves.

He used his lunchbox lids as honey trays.

He rolled round pebbles to guide the drips into neat golden pools.

The buzblers buzzed excitedly and followed his lead.

Soon the cave was less splatty and more splendid.

Honey gleamed in tidy rows.  
Flowers stood tall.  
Nobody got stuck upside down.

“Well,” said Oakley, “only a little stuck.”

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/PXMimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/PXMimage.png)

The buzblers thanked him in a grand buzzy parade.

Then their queen floated forward wearing a tiny crown of petals.

She gave Oakley the smallest jar in the world, filled with glowing Mars honey.

Just one spoonful, the backpack computer explained, because Mars is cold and dry and delicate—and good explorers take only a little and leave the wonder behind.

Oakley nodded.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/fHkimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/fHkimage.png)

Back home on Earth, Oakley sat at breakfast with a smile as wide as a rocket trail.

He drizzled one shining drop of Mars honey onto his toast.

It tasted sunny and warm and just a tiny bit sparkly.

Oakley looked up at the sky and whispered,

“Bouncy boots, curious eyes—what a rusty, sticky, sweet surprise.”

And far, far away on the Red Planet, the space buzblers buzzed back,

“Bzzip!”

Because sometimes the biggest adventures begin with one small step…

and one very sticky boot.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/vwhimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/vwhimage.png)

# Oakley and the Honey on Mars (Audio 📢)

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/1NZimage.png)](#bkmrk--8)

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/6Ayimage.png)](#bkmrk--8)

---

[![Oakley receives the Mars letter](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/cyiimage.png)](#bkmrk--8)<video class="align-center" controls="" height="50" width="100%"><source src="https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/attachments/150"></source></video>

Oakley was four years old and absolutely certain of three things.

He loved rockets.  
He loved adventures.  
And he loved honey on toast.

So when a shiny silver letter whooshed down from the sky and landed in his paddling pool, Oakley clapped so hard he nearly fell into the daisies.

It said:

**OAKLEY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO VISIT MARS?**

“Oh, yes,” said Oakley. “Very, very, VERY yes.”

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/UKuimage.png)<video class="align-center" controls="" height="50" poster="" width="100%"><source src="https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/attachments/152"></source></video>](#bkmrk--8)

Soon Oakley was zipped into a puffy space suit with round boots and a helmet like a fishbowl.

His little rocket rumbled.  
It roared.  
It zoomed past clouds, past the Moon, and out into the deep, dark sparkle of space.

Oakley pressed his nose to the window.

Mars glowed ahead, red and dusty, like a giant rusty marble.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/vQIimage.png)](#bkmrk--8)<video class="align-center" controls="" height="50" poster="" width="100%"><source src="https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/attachments/153"></source></video>

When Oakley landed, he took the tiniest step…

and boinged!

Mars has less gravity than Earth, so Oakley felt lighter there. His boots made soft, springy hops across the ground.

“Bouncy boots, curious eyes,” Oakley giggled,  
“what a rusty, sticky, sweet surprise!”

He did not know about the sticky part yet.

But Mars did.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/Mdoimage.png)](#bkmrk--8)<video class="align-center" controls="" height="50" poster="" width="100%"><source src="https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/attachments/157"></source></video>

Mars was quiet.

Very quiet.

No trees swishing. No bees buzzing. No dogs barking. Just dusty wind whispering over red rocks.

Oakley remembered what he had been told:

“Mars is called the Red Planet because its dust is full of rusty iron.”

Oakley looked around.  
Red hills. Red pebbles. Red cliffs.

“Rusty planet,” he whispered.

Then his boot stuck to the ground.

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/Ew6image.png)](#bkmrk--8)<video class="align-center" controls="" height="50" poster="" width="100%"><source src="https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/attachments/159"></source></video>

“Squish,” said Oakley.

He looked down.

Under his boot was a golden, gooey blob.

Oakley poked it with one gloved finger.

It stretched.

It shimmered.

It smelled…

sweet.

Oakley blinked. “That,” he said slowly, “is definitely not ordinary Mars mud.”

He looked up.

All across the red ground were globs and glimmers and dribbles of golden honey.

Heaps of it!

---

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/EJJimage.png)](#bkmrk--8)<video class="align-center" controls="" height="50" poster="" width="100%"><source src="https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/attachments/161"></source></video>

Oakley followed the honey trail over little rocks and through a shallow crater.

Ahead, he saw a giant mountain rising in the distance.

“That must be Olympus Mons,” said his chirpy backpack computer. “The biggest volcano in the solar system.”

Oakley stared. “The biggest?”

“The biggest,” said the computer.

Oakley nodded seriously. “Mars does not do things halfway.”

Then he slipped bottom-first into a honey puddle.

---

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He slid past red stones.

He slid past sparkly pebbles.

He slid right into a hidden cave beneath the dusty hill.

Inside, everything glowed warm and gold.

There were amber honeycombs stuck to the cave walls. There were bright yellow flowers growing from cracks in the rock. There were tiny floating creatures with fluffy stripes and shimmering wings.

They were not bees.

<span style="white-space:pre-wrap;">They were </span>**space buzblers**.

And they were making honey.

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The space buzblers zipped in cheerful loops.

Bzzip! Bozzle! Bzzip!

They bounced from flower to flower, gathering sweet golden nectar and tucking it into wobbling honeycombs.

Oakley laughed. “You’re honey makers!”

The buzblers wiggled proudly.

Above the cave roof, evening came, and through a crack Oakley could see Mars’s two little moons—Phobos and Deimos—peeking down like curious pebbles in the sky.

Mars, Oakley decided, was showing off now.

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But then Oakley noticed something else.

Honey was spilling everywhere.

It dripped down rocks.  
It plopped into puddles.  
It oozed right across the cave floor.

The buzblers were trying very hard, but their combs were too full and too wibbly.

“Ohhh,” said Oakley. “You don’t need a taster.”

The buzblers paused.

“You need a helper.”

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Oakley got to work.

He stacked flat red stones into little shelves.

He used his lunchbox lids as honey trays.

He rolled round pebbles to guide the drips into neat golden pools.

The buzblers buzzed excitedly and followed his lead.

Soon the cave was less splatty and more splendid.

Honey gleamed in tidy rows.  
Flowers stood tall.  
Nobody got stuck upside down.

“Well,” said Oakley, “only a little stuck.”

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The buzblers thanked him in a grand buzzy parade.

Then their queen floated forward wearing a tiny crown of petals.

She gave Oakley the smallest jar in the world, filled with glowing Mars honey.

Just one spoonful, the backpack computer explained, because Mars is cold and dry and delicate—and good explorers take only a little and leave the wonder behind.

Oakley nodded.

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Back home on Earth, Oakley sat at breakfast with a smile as wide as a rocket trail.

He drizzled one shining drop of Mars honey onto his toast.

It tasted sunny and warm and just a tiny bit sparkly.

Oakley looked up at the sky and whispered,

“Bouncy boots, curious eyes—what a rusty, sticky, sweet surprise.”

And far, far away on the Red Planet, the space buzblers buzzed back,

“Bzzip!”

Because sometimes the biggest adventures begin with one small step…

and one very sticky boot.

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[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/vwhimage.png)](#bkmrk--8)

# Character Codex

# Pip

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/pvIimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/pvIimage.png)

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/1Mvimage.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/1Mvimage.png)

# Buzblers

[![image.png](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/scaled-1680-/kp9image.png)](https://bookstack.thecartwrights.nz/uploads/images/gallery/2026-04/kp9image.png)