Wrede, Patricia C - SSC (3 page)

"Not from me, you don't,"
Elyssa muttered. She decided that the cat had been right to call the unicorn a
stuck-up goat. "I'm sorry, but we really must leave," she said in a
louder tone. "Good-bye, unicorn." She picked up her bundle and
started for the edge of the hollow.

The unicorn watched with glittering
eyes, but it made no move to stop her. "I don't like this," the cat
said as he and Elyssa left the hollow.

"You're the one who found that
pool in the first place," Elyssa pointed out.

The cat ducked its head. "I
know," he said uncomfortably. "But—"

He broke off abruptly as they came
around one of the huge trees and found themselves at the edge of the hollow
once more. The unicorn was watching them with a smug, sardonic expression from
the other side of the pool.

"We must have gotten turned
around in the woods," Elyssa said doubtfully.

The cat did not reply. They turned
and started into the woods again. This time they walked very slowly, to be
certain they did not go in a circle. In a few minutes, they were back at the
hollow.

"Had enough?" said the
unicorn.

"Third time lucky," said
the cat. "Come on, Princess."

They turned their backs on the
unicorn and walked into the woods. Elyssa concentrated very hard and kept a
careful eye on the trees.

"I think we're going to make
it this time," she said after a little. "Cat? Cat, where are— Oh,
dear." She was standing at the edge of the hollow, looking across the pool
at the unicorn.

"The cat is gone for
good," the unicorn informed her in a satisfied tone.

Elyssa felt a pang of worry about
her friend. "What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"I got rid of him," the
unicorn said. "I don't want a cat; I want a Princess. Someone to comb my
mane, and polish my horn—"

"—and make you garlands, I
know," Elyssa said. "Well, I won't do it."

"No?" said the unicorn.

"No," Elyssa said firmly.
"So you might as well just let me go."

"I don't think so," the
unicorn said. "You'll change your mind after a while, you'll see. I'm much
too beautiful to resist. And I expect that with a little work you'll improve a
great deal."

"Elyssa doesn't need your kind
of improvement," said the cat's voice from just above Elyssa's head.

Elyssa looked up. The cat was
perched in the lowest fork of the enormous tree beside her. "You came
back!" she said.

"Did you really think I
wouldn't, Princess?" said the cat. "I'd have gotten here sooner, but
I wanted to make sure of the way out. Just in case you've had enough of our
conceited friend."

"You're bluffing, cat,"
said the unicorn. "Princess Elyssa can't get out unless I let her, and I
won't."

"That's what you think,"
said the cat. "Shall we go, Princess?"

"Yes,
please,"
said
Elyssa.

"Put your hand on my back,
then, and don't let go," said the cat.

Elyssa bent over and put her hand
on the cat's back, just below his neck. It was a very awkward and uncomfortable
way to walk, and she was sure she looked quite silly. She had to concentrate
very hard to keep from falling or tripping and losing her hold as she sidled
along. "How much farther?" she asked after what seemed a long time.

"Not far," said the cat.
Elyssa thought he sounded tired. A few moments later they entered a large
clearing (which contained neither a pool nor a unicorn), and the cat stopped.
"All right, Princess," the cat said. "You can let go now."

Elyssa took her hand off the cat's
back and straightened up. It felt very good to stretch again. When she looked
down, the cat was lowering himself to the ground in a stiff and clumsy fashion
that was quite unlike his usual grace.

"Oh, dear," said Elyssa.
She dropped to her knees beside the cat and stroked his fur, very gently.
"Are you all right, cat?" she asked, because she couldn't think of
anything else to say.

The cat did not answer. Elyssa
remembered all the stories she had ever heard about animals who had been
gravely injured or even killed getting their masters or mistresses out of
trouble, and she began to be very much afraid. "Please be all right,
cat," she said, and leaned over and kissed him on the nose.

The air shimmered, and then it
rippled, and then it exploded into brightness right in front of Elyssa's eyes.
She blinked. An exceedingly handsome man dressed in brown velvet lay sprawled
on the moss in front of her, right where the cat had been.

Elyssa blinked again. The man
propped his head on one elbow and looked up at her. "Very nice,
Princess," he said. "But I wouldn't mind if you tried again a little
lower down."

"You're the cat, aren't
you?" Elyssa said.

"I was," the man
admitted. He sat up and smiled at her. "You don't object to the change, do
you?"

"No," said Elyssa.
"But who are you now, please?"

"Prince Riddle of Amonhill,"
the man said. He bowed to her even though he was still sitting down, which
proved he was a Prince. "I made the mistake of stopping at Queen
Hildegard's castle some time ago, and she changed me into a cat when I refused to
marry her dreadful daughter."

"Queen Hildegard? But I was
supposed to go see her!" Elyssa exclaimed.

"I know. I told you you
wouldn't like her," Prince Riddle said. "She condemned me to be a cat
until I was kissed by a Princess who had drunk the water from a unicorn's pool.
Her daughter was the only Princess the Queen knew of who had tasted the water.
If she had also managed to kiss me I'd have had to marry her." He shuddered.

"I see," said Elyssa
slowly. "So that's why you brought me to the
Enchanted
Forest
and then found the unicorn's
pool."

Riddle looked a little shamefaced.
"Yes. I didn't expect to have any trouble with the unicorn; they usually
aren't around much. I'm sorry."

"It's quite all right,"
Elyssa said hastily. "It was very interesting. And I'm glad I could help
you. And—and you don't need to think that you have to marry me just because I
disenchanted you."

"It
is
traditional, you
know," Riddle said, with a sidelong glance that reminded Elyssa very
strongly of the cat.

"Well, I think it's a silly
tradition!" Elyssa said in an emphatic tone. "What if you didn't like
the Princess who broke the spell?"

Riddle smiled warmly. "But I
do like you, Princess."

"Oh," said Elyssa.

"You were always very nice to
me when I was a cat."

"Yes," said Elyssa.

"And I like the idea of
marrying you." Riddle looked at her a little uncertainly. "That is,
if you wouldn't mind marrying me."

"Actually," said Elyssa,
"I'd like it very much."

So Elyssa and Riddle went back to
the castle to be married. Elyssa's family was delighted. Her papa kissed her
cheek and clapped Riddle on the back. Her step-mama cried with joy and then was
happily scandalized to hear about the doings of her old school friend Queen
Hildegard. And both of Elyssa's sisters agreed to be bridesmaids (much to the
dismay of the King's councillors, who felt that it was bad enough for a middle
Princess to be married first without emphasizing the fact by having her sisters
stand up. for her).

The wedding was a grand affair,
with all the neighboring Kings and
Queens
in attendance.
There were even a couple of fairies present, which made the King's councillors
more cross than ever. (Fairies, according to the chief councillor, were
supposed to come to christenings, not to weddings.) After the wedding, Elyssa
had her stepmama send a special note to Queen Hildegard. A few days later,
Queen Hildegard's daughter disappeared into the
Enchanted
Forest
, and shortly thereafter
rumors began circulating that the unicorn had found a handmaiden even more
conceited than it was.

And so they all lived happily for
the rest of their lives, except the King's councillors, who never would stop
trying to make things go the way they thought things ought to be.

Light and the raucous noise of a
heavy-metal band spilled from the long, open windows onto the patio outside,
overwhelming the pale reflected gleam of the full moon and drowning the hum of
the cicadas. Even from halfway down the long drive, where she leaned against
the hood of her mother's Lexus,
Adrian
could feel the bass beat thumping in her bones. Samantha's music, Samantha's
friends, Samantha's party. It was a good thing they had no near neighbors to
complain. Not that anyone would have. No one but
Adrian
ever complained about the outrageous things her younger sister did.

I don't mind Dad throwing her a
party, Adrian told herself for the hundredth time. Really, I don't. But the way
she swept in, like the prodigal daughter coming home. . . yes, I mind that. And—
Oh, I don't know. Why can't things be simple?

She looked down at the half-inch
worm of ash on the end of her cigarette and grimaced.
My only vice, and I
don't even enjoy it.
Still, it was a good excuse to avoid the party; most
of Sam's friends were into clean air and health food. She dropped the cigarette
and ground the tip into the cement, then tilted her head back to stare at the
sky. The moon hung overhead like an old dime worn smooth and shiny.
Almost
midnight
. I wonder how much longer
they'll go on. Dawn, probably. Can I spend another five hours smoking? I don't
think I have that many cigarettes.

The music trailed off in a series
of erratic crashes. After a moment's blessed silence, it began again, loud and
indecipherable even at this distance.
Adrian
sighed and pushed away from the Lexus. Maybe if she walked farther down the
drive the noise wouldn't bother her so much.

"
Adrian
."

Startled, she turned. "Hello,
Mother. Did Dad send you—" —to get me to put in a token appearance at his
favorite daughter's home-from-prep-school bash? "—to talk to me?"

"No." Her mother's voice
was quiet and level, as always;
Adrian
almost lost the reply in a rattle of drumbeats.

"I came out to smoke."
The words sounded sullen even to her own ears. Defiantly, she fumbled for a
cigarette. She almost dropped it twice before she got it lit.

"Of course, dear."

Adrian
looked sharply across the hood of the car. Her mother's expression—or at least
as much of it as Adrian could distinguish in the dim light—was as polite and
nonjudgmental as her voice had been. But she was always polite and nonjudgmental.

The drums erupted again, with the
wail of a highly augmented electric guitar as counterpoint. When the sound
subsided to a more normal level,
Adrian
's
mother said mildly, "It's a bit noisy, isn't it?
Adrian
..."

She's going to ask me to go back in
and pretend I'm as glad to see Sam as everyone else is. I'd rather stay here
and pretend to chain-smoke. "What?"

"I'm afraid I haven't done as
well for you as I ought."

Speechless,
Adrian
stared. Darkness and moon shadows combined with her mother's habitual reserve
to make her expression unreadable. After a moment, the calm voice continued,
"It's late to be thinking of this, I know. But when you go off to college
next fall, I'd like to think..." She paused, looking up at the house.

Not knowing what to say,
Adrian
took a long pull on her cigarette. As she blew a thin stream of smoke that
frayed quickly into nothingness, her mother began to speak again.

"I grew up poor, Adrian. Dirt
poor. My father ran off when I was four and never came back. Sometimes I think
I can just remember him. Mama had nothing but three babies to raise.
This"—she made a sweeping gesture that took in the manicured grounds, the
graceful curve of the driveway, the Lexus, the house, and somehow even the,
heavy-metal band and the party inside—"this was my dream, then. Money,
lots of money, and a man who wouldn't leave me and his children, no matter what."

Adrian
shifted uneasily. She'd heard the story many times; her mother had never made a
secret of her background. But this time there was a hard edge to the tale that
she'd never noticed before. "Mother, what are you trying to—"

"Tonight is a sort of
anniversary for me," her mother went on without seeming to hear. "On
this night, twenty-one years ago, I started on my way to all this."

"I thought you met Dad in
September."

"Oh, that. . . Yes. I did.
September first, twenty-one years ago this fall." She smiled in the
moonlight; then the smile faded. "But tonight is the real anniversary,
though I've never told anyone. This was my dream, and when I had the
opportunity to make it happen, I snatched it. I never looked beyond it, never
thought there might be other dreams ..."

"Mother, are you and Dad ... I
mean, aren't you happy?''

"Happy enough, dear, and it is
the life I chose." She looked at
Adrian
.
"And no, your father and I aren't contemplating a divorce, if that's what
you're frowning about."

"Good." The strength of
her reaction surprised her.

Her mother turned toward the house
once more. "
Adrian
, I'd like
you to do a favor for me."

"What favor?"

"Stay out here for another
hour or so. There's someone I'd like you to meet, and I'm sure she'll come
tonight. Almost sure. It's a seventh year. And if you are given a choice ... be
careful, be wise. Don't rush to pick one dream before you've even looked at the
others."