Tangled Magick (7 page)

“It's the best shot we've got to get word to Aletta.” Mae scowled.

Poppy shrugged. “What about Trina, or the hidden passageway?”

“Trina is too small,” Mae said.

The little squirrel glared at her and made an indignant squeak.

“It would take you too long to get to the Wedge, Trina. I'm sorry, but it's true. What were you thinking about the passageway?” Mae asked.

“Let's explore it tomorrow when the queen is in the Great Room. If it leads nowhere, we'll send the owl.” Poppy sighed as the door creaked open.

Folkvarus poked his head in the room. “You two, follow me.”

Poppy gave Mae a worried look. Mae shrugged as if to say,
He's given us no reason not to trust him.
Trina leapt into her pocket and peeked out as she followed Folkvarus into the hallway.

The grand chamber was full of noise. Trolls squabbled and wrestled and yelled and shoveled food into their fanged mouths. The smell of roasted chicken made Mae's mouth water, but the stench of the trolls tempered her appetite somewhat.

Beady dark eyes followed the two hapennies as they crossed the large room. Mae could hear the licking of lips as she hurried across, pushed the swinging door Folkvarus had disappeared through, and emerged into a warm kitchen. The smell of oat and berry mush made her stomach growl. Trina's whiskers shivered as her nose twitched with eagerness.

“What's this, then?” Cook Barley turned and scowled. He had the same slightly vacant and sad look as Mr. Whiteknoll. He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to remember something. Then his face softened. “Oh, girls. Your beautiful hair.”

Poppy's hand reached for the braid that wasn't there. Mae smoothed her chopped curls.

“The girls will be needing something to eat, Barley,” Folkvarus said.

Cook Barley nodded and gathered a couple of bowls. He ladled a bit of mush in each one and set them on the table. His scowl had returned. “And for you, Folkvarus?”

“Nothing now.” He gave the girls a little shove. “Go on. Eat it. Meals for servants don't come at regular intervals—only when you can sneak them in.”

Mae picked a berry out of the bowl and gave it to Trina as another troll-like creature entered the kitchen. A loud roar of voices followed her, fading as the door swung shut. She carried
a tarnished silver tray filled with bones. “She must be in a good mood today,” she said as she eyed the girls sitting at the table.

“Were those
our
chickens?” Poppy asked. Her face turned as red as her hair.

Mae elbowed her. She felt Trina wiggle out of her pocket and jump to the floor.

“Yes, I'm afraid they were,” the troll-like creature said. “Name's Gilda. Head server for the queen…unfortunately.” She flashed a grin, which could have been scary except for the fact that her eyes twinkled. “You're new, so I'll tell ya that I've found hopefulness keeps the enchantments at bay,” she said. “Without it, you'll easily fall into despair.”

Mae's ears perked. “Enchantments?”

“That's enough, Gilda.” Folkvarus cut her short and gestured with his eyes to the gargoyle carving above the hearth. The gargoyle wiggled his ears and crossed his eyes at Mae. She averted her gaze quickly.

Gilda nodded and cleared her throat. “Eat up and get back to work, you two!” She scowled at them. “The queen's castle ain't gonna clean itself. That much is obvious.”

Cook Barley tossed a couple of rolls on the table and gave Mae a wink. “Chin up!”

“When you are finished, return to the queen's chamber,” Folkvarus said.

“What will we have to do now?” Poppy said. “We've already scrubbed the floors, gotten rid of the cobwebs, polished the wardrobe, dusted the mantel, gathered the laundry—”

“Whatever she wants you to do.” Folkvarus nodded to them and strode across the kitchen. The loud cacophony of voices again filled the room until the door swung closed behind him.

“I suppose we're in for a cold night on the stone floor.” Poppy stuck her spoon in her oat mush and pushed it around.

Mae nodded, but her thoughts were on Gilda and Folkvarus's strange behavior and the gargoyles who seemed to
grow right from the walls and mantels. “Cook Barley, can I ask you something?”

Cook turned from the dishes he was washing and sighed. His eyes wavered to the gargoyle above the hearth. It stuck out its tongue and blew raspberries. “It's best you don't.”

Mae was startled by Cook's answer, but nodded and finished eating. She wondered how they could find out whose side the gargoyles were on.

Poppy yawned and laid her head on the table.

A loud roar echoed through the kitchen door as Gilda pushed her way in again. “Best be off with you two. The queen has decided to retire early. Hurry now!”

Mae looked for Trina but didn't see her. She was probably exploring the castle. That was good; perhaps she could find a way out. Mae and Poppy shoveled what was left in their bowls into their mouths and scrambled back through the noisy chamber, trotting down the hallway.

Mae pulled on the queen's chamber door, but it wouldn't open. Poppy grabbed the iron handle and yanked with all her might.

Still the door did not budge.

“Wait,” Mae said. “Folkvarus never opens the door—it opens for him by itself.” She knocked on the door three times and stepped back.

The wood grain swirled and made a face. Poppy covered her mouth with her hand and froze. The face protruded from the wood and cackled.

“Well, if it isn't the new servants to our green queen. Don't just stand there! Come in, come in!”

The door swung open, and Mae and Poppy stepped into the room.

Poppy shivered. Her nose twitched. “I don't think I'll ever get used to the gargoyles, Mae.”

“I'm not a gargoyle! Phffft!” The face in the door was back, but this time on the inside.

“What are you, then?” Mae asked.

“I'm a wood nymph.”

“But I thought nymphs lived in trees,” Poppy asked.

The nymph sighed. “Yes, we do. This door was made from the tree I lived in. It was cut down in the depths of winter, when we hibernate, and I was trapped. Oh! She's coming!” The nymph disappeared back into the wood grains, and the door creaked open.

“Will you be wanting to wash up before bed then, miss?” Mae asked the queen as she entered the chamber.

Huldfrejya scowled and turned her back on Mae. “Unlace my dress.” She pointed to Poppy. “You, put another log on the fire.”

Mae climbed onto the bed in order to reach the laces and picked at the frayed ribbon that held the queen's bodice together. Poppy tossed a log onto the brazier. When the bodice finally loosened, Mae gasped at the queen's back through the thin material of her shift. She was so thin that the bones nearly poked through her green-tinged skin.

“Hurry up, you little twit. There's nothing back there to be gazing at.” Huldfrejya tossed the bodice to the floor.

“Yes, ma'am.” Mae pulled at the tie on the queen's skirt and let it fall into a puddle around her feet.

“About time!” Huldfrejya kicked the skirt into the corner and climbed into the tall bed. “Get off! And pull the cover up.”

The girls scurried to cover the queen. Mae reached for the bedcovers and stopped. The queen's feet were still pink and fleshy. She bit her lip. What could it mean? Poppy cleared her throat and Mae snapped to attention. She grabbed the corner and pulled her half of the bedcovers up to Huldfrejya's chin. The sheets were grimy and stiff. The coverlet was moth-eaten, and the matted batting was showing through the holes. Mae crinkled her nose at the filth and vowed to wash the sheets and blankets tomorrow, along with the pile of laundry they'd gathered.

“Stop loitering!” Huldfrejya shrieked. “Close the curtains.”

The girls pulled the bed curtains, buffering the queen against the draft that came snaking through the window.

“What should we do now?” Mae whispered to Poppy.

Poppy grabbed the queen's bodice, pinching it between two fingers and holding it away from her as if she were carrying the tail end of a skunk. Mae scooped up the skirt and tossed it into the pile of laundry. Mae grabbed the broom, feather duster, mop, and bucket and carried them to the far corner of the chamber.

Soft snores filled the darkened room.

“She didn't take any time falling off to sleep, did she?” Poppy scoffed. “Her garments haven't been washed in ages. It's a right crime to have so many beautiful gowns and not take care of them.”

“It's not her fault,” Mae said.

Poppy stared open-mouthed. “Of course it's her fault. She's a troll. That's what they do.”

Mae shook her head. “She looks like a troll, but she's not. Neither is Folkvarus, nor Gilda.”

“Not trolls?” Poppy said. “What are you talking about?”

Mae shrugged. “I don't know. But they aren't.”

“Then who invaded our camp?” Poppy asked.

Mae shivered. “Those
were
trolls.”

Poppy shook her head. “I'm confused. How can you tell the trolls who aren't actually trolls apart from the real trolls?”

“Take a good look at Folkvarus. He has hair on his ears, big bushy brows. He's shorter than the others, and he's a hard worker. His clothes are clean too—threadbare, but clean. Gilda's too. I'd bet ten pints of wedgeberry rum that there is a spell on the queen, her castle,
and
its inhabitants. I just don't know who put the enchantment on them. But we
are
going to find a way to break it.”

“How?”

Mae shook her head and flopped on the floor in front of the fire. “I don't know, but I think it has something to do with the fact that the skin on her feet turned pink when the mop bucket spilled water on them.”

Poppy giggled. “The bucket must have thought she was extra dirty.”

“Well, it's not likely that we'll be able to talk her into the bathtub on our first day in the castle.” Mae grinned.

“Probably not even on our thirtieth.” Poppy sighed and sank next to Mae.

“Let's hope we aren't here that long. We should start by washing her clothes.” Mae pulled her wand from her pocket. She pointed it at the feather duster and it hopped back into action. “Even if it doesn't make her feel better, it sure will help the stench in the room.”

Mae smiled at the mop swirling anxiously in the corner.

“I saw a sewing basket in one of the piles,” Poppy said.

Mae yawned and pulled off her boots. How she wished she had her bag with the special clothes-cleaning pocket. That would have made things much easier.

“Maewyn?” Poppy whispered.

Mae turned toward her friend. “Yes?”

“Do you think the others are okay?” Poppy sniffled.

Mae thought of Tory and the way her stomach had flip-flopped when he held her hand. “I hope so.”

Poppy shifted next to her and let out a huge sigh. “I feel horrible complaining about this hard floor when who knows where the others are sleeping tonight. At least we have a warm fire.”

Mae swallowed a lump in her throat. How could she even think of sleeping when she didn't know what was happening to the rest of the travelers? Despite her worries, her eyelids grew heavy as the fire warmed her toes. Soon, she promised herself, she would find out where the rest of the hapennies were being held.

M
ae wiped the sweat from her brow. Poppy had stuffed an old pair of bloomers she'd found in the laundry pile into the hole in the window to block the draft, and Mae was beginning to think that maybe they should've left it open. She and Poppy had cleaned out the copper bath and filled it with water, hauled from the kitchen and boiled over the fireplace, before they began washing every garment they could find in the chamber. They had woken early in the morning to get started, and now clothing was hanging to dry on every piece of furniture or empty nail in the wall they could reach. Mae pulled the plug on the tub and listened to the water drain into the grate in the floor, the swirling current carrying away the dirt and grime.

The queen had already slept away half the morning, and it was starting to look as if she was never going to wake up when a ripple of the bed curtains captured Mae's attention. She caught Poppy's eye and nodded toward the bed. Mae wiped her wet hands on her skirt and tiptoed toward the queen's bed.

Huldfrejya yanked back the curtains and stuck her head out. Her brows were knit together and her mouth was bent into a frown. “What are you two nitwits doing?”

“Good morning,” Mae said.

“Good morning…good morning, she says! Well, what's so good about it?” Huldfrejya scrambled off the bed and stepped onto the floor. She sucked in a breath and pulled the hem of her shift up to her calves and looked down quickly at her
feet, which were still a little pink, though the green color was beginning to spread again. “Something is wrong with the floor. It's…warm.”

Poppy gestured toward the hearth. “We've been feedin' the fire all morning!”

“Open the window,” the queen screeched. “I feel as if I'm about to melt.”

Mae started toward the window.

“Stop!”

Mae and Poppy exchanged glances.

Huldfrejya's hands were clenched in her mussed and tangled hair. She groaned deep in her throat. “Never mind, just get me some clothes. You shouldn't have let me sleep all morning. I have things to do, servants to boss, trolls to appease!”

Mae pulled down a fresh shift that was hanging on a hook by the fire. Thankfully, it was dry. She held it up for the queen.

“What have you done?” Huldfrejya looked from the shift in her hands to the clothes hanging around the room. “I never told you to wash my clothes!”

“Excuse me, miss, but you did order us to clean your chamber,” Poppy said. Her chin was thrust forward and her arms were crossed.