Beauty and the Beast (17 page)

Since my tutor, Master Cedrick, has not been seen in the village since my arrival, the only person with a chance of being able to decipher the book is Alexander. And he is still on a wild goose chase to find me a girlfriend. His time would be much better spent doing, well,
anything
else. After my last date tried to stab me, I am fairly certain romance is not in my future. Unfortunately, Parker returned to the castle alone, so all I can do is wait.

Thank goodness Freddy is here to keep me from checking the windows every moment. He keeps me busy playing games and sharing stories, both in the castle and outside on the back lawn in the cover of darkness. We experiment with how fast I can run (faster than a horse!), how heavy an object I can lift (a table, and a fallen tree trunk), and how quickly I can climb the sides of the castle walls by wedging my nails between the stones (very quickly). Mother does not approve of that one at all.

Freddy continues to impress me. I worried when he was finally in the same room with my invisible parents he would find it too strange and retreat to the safety of the hidden tunnels. But he simply shrugged and said that sometimes he imagines his own parents are still with him, only they are invisible, too. That put things in perspective. At least mine are still with me, even though I cannot see them. (Which at this point may be a blessing, since according to Mother, Father has stopped wearing any pants over his knickers.)

I have just blown out my candle on the eleventh day of my brother's absence when I hear the carriage pull up outside. I throw back the blanket and jump out of bed. I am getting better with my balance and coordination, but still, the crash of my feet landing on the floor is loud enough to cause Freddy to run in from his guest room down the hall.

“Alexander is back!” I tell him. “He can read the book now!”

“Are you certain he will be able to?” Freddy asks as we race down the stairs in our slippers and nightclothes.

“He is the only person I know who speaks five languages. If he can't do it, no one can.”

By the time we get downstairs, Godfrey has already come inside, and is resting on the couch. He is quite old for such a long journey, and I hope he is not unwell.

“Are you all right, Godfrey?” I ask. “Was the trip too much for you?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually quite exciting. It has been many, many years since I have visited the outer kingdoms. The different sounds, the smells of the local markets, all very new. And of course, everywhere I went, people thought me daft since I was always talking to someone who was not there.”

I chuckle at that. “I imagine you were the talk of the town. Where is Alexander now?”

“I am right here, brother,” Alexander replies, slapping me on the back. “And wait till I tell you what I have found! Or shall I say, who!”

“Never mind that,” I say, “we have more important things to deal with.”

“And who is this?” Alexander asks, no doubt meaning Freddy.

“Do you not remember him? He started as a castle page a few weeks before I became a beast.”

“And he is still here because …?”

“Long story. I remembered this book I saw in the library about witches, and Parker went to find you, and then I was stabbed by this girl, and then —”

“You were
stabbed
? By a
girl
?”

“That is not important. I have healed already.”

“You were very brave,” Mother says, squeezing my arm.

“Do tell,” Alexander says.

“Later, I promise.” I thrust the book open in front of where I imagine his eyes would be. “This was written by that expert on witches that the royal doctor told us about. Only it is in some strange language. If we can read it, maybe we can break the spell.”

If he were to take the book, it would disappear. Instead, I slowly turn the pages for him. “Interesting,” he murmurs, “most interesting.”

“What does it say?” I ask, barely containing myself. Freddy and I push in closer.

“It is indeed instructions on how to break a witch's spell!”

“Hurrah!” I shout. “Did you get all the ingredients on my list? The minerals? The herbs?”

“I did indeed,” he says. “It was at the apothecary's that I met your future bride, in fact.”

I brush him off. “Enough with that. This is what we need to focus on.”

“You won't need your herbs or minerals or crushed donkey horns or any of the odd things you had me buy. The solution is much simpler than that. Follow me.”

Freddy and I exchange a glance. “Um, how can we do that when we can't see you?”

“Sorry. Heading to the kitchen. Invisible people first.”

Freddy and I hang back to let my family pass. We leave Godfrey snoring comfortably on the couch.

“Lovely knickers, Father,” Alexander says as they walk down the short hallway.

“Thank you, son. Nice haircut.”

“Oh, do you like it?”

“It looks like you hired a blind man to cut it,” Mother says.

Alexander laughs. “That would be Godfrey.”

“Are they always like this?” Freddy asks as we follow behind.

I nod. “Mother is fighting a losing battle trying to keep the two of them presentable. Can't say I blame them. If I were invisible I probably would have given up on washing altogether.”

We arrive at the kitchen to find various jars and jugs appearing on the counter with resounding thuds. “All right,” Alexander says, “step up, please.”

I stand beside the counter while Alexander scoops out a spoonful of mustard seeds, a half cup of curdled cream, and a pinch of saffron. Then he chops up a pickle and tosses in a wrinkled, half-rotted plum. He mixes it all together in a bowl and pushes it in front of me.

I pick up my spoon and hold it over the bowl of glop. I am not a picky eater, especially now when my stomach must be four times its regular size, but this looks truly unappetizing. “You want me to eat this? Are you certain this will break the witch's curse?”

“Not this alone,” he says. “While you eat it, you must also hop on one foot while singing
She was a lovely lass.
Oh, and you should do it in the rain.”

“But the sky is cloudless.”

He pauses, then says, “In the absence of rain, the book said you may use spit.”

I lay down my spoon. “I am beginning to suspect you could not read that book at all.”

“Not a word of it,” he replies. I do not need to see him to know he is grinning. And to think, he used to be the responsible prince, the one who worked hard and could be relied upon at all times. Father's jokes and tricks used to annoy him, and now he is playing them himself.

Alexander yelps. “Ouch! Honestly, Mother, I am too old for you to tug my ear.”

“I am confused,” Freddy says, turning toward me. “What is going on?”

I growl and step away from the counter. “Come, Freddy. Let us get some sleep. We shall simply have to figure out how to read the book on our own.”

We turn on our heels and march from the room. “I'm sorry! It was just a joke,” Alexander calls after us. “I was merely trying to lighten the mood.”

“Even
I
would not have done that,” Father says, although I detect a note of admiration in his voice for a trick well played.

I stop in the doorway. “What happened to your pledge to help me? You are poking fun instead.”

“Ouch!” Alexander cries out as Mother expresses her disapproval again. “Enough with the pinching!”

“Stop acting like a child,” Mother says, “and I will stop pinching your ear.”

In a serious tone without any guile, he says, “You are right, brother, I am behaving horridly and I apologize. It has been a long trip and I missed being home. It was quite difficult remaining quiet and hidden in corners all the time so people wouldn't bump into the invisible boy.”

“I had not thought of that,” I admit, feeling a bit of my annoyance ebb away. “It must have been very hard indeed.”

Freddy rolls his eyes at my ease of forgiveness, but I ignore it. The brotherly relationship is a complicated one; I do not expect him to understand.

“But I truly did find you a girl,” Alexander says, dumping the bowl in one of the large copper sinks. “And I think you will like her.”

I shake my head. “I think we have already proven that the witch knew no girl would ever love me. Your search was in vain. It is a hopeless, impossible task.”

“And tonight we have proven that we have run out of options,” he says, his voice rising. “Your book is a scribble of nonsense. I am fairly certain you do not want to live your life as a beast, and I am absolutely certain I want to be seen again by people other than our parents.”

“Perhaps not until your hair grows out,” Father whispers.

Freddy giggles. I do not think he likes Alexander much.

I hang my head. Lately I had been thinking only of my own fate, not theirs. “What is this girl like?”

“Well, I do not exactly know for certain,” Alexander admits. “It was her older sister, Clarissa, whom Godfrey and I met at an apothecary shop over a three-day ride from here. Well, truly only Godfrey met her, since I was busy trying not to knock over any jars of strange-looking roots or balls of mercury and give my presence away. But she and Godfrey were talking as he gave her our order. By this point in the trip we had given up asking girls to come back with us, so she and Godfrey were merely talking like old friends. He brings that out in people. I heard the girl say she was filling in for her younger sister, a girl near your age, who is working hard to support their family. Their father used to be a successful book merchant, but they have fallen on hard times. If the girl is anything like Clarissa, she is sweet and generous — Clarissa gave us a lot of extra things we hadn't even asked for — and quite a spectacular beauty. In fact, that is her name.”

“The girl's name is
Beauty
? What kind of name is that?”

“A better name than
Beast
,” he points out.

“But I did not choose my name.”

“Neither, I am certain, did she.”

I suppose he has a point. “All right, so this generous, sweet, beautiful girl, why would she come here?”

“Well, I have not quite worked out that part yet. She is apparently very dedicated to helping her father and sister. Getting her to leave them will not be easy.”

I sigh. “Then why are we even having this conversation? I am going to bed.”

Freddy shakes his head in Alexander's direction as if to say “shame on you” one last time before we exit.

“Welcome to our crazy castle, Freddy!” Alexander calls after us. Followed by, “Ouch, Mother!”

“Can I help you?” the innkeeper asks, chomping on an apple.

“We have returned,” Veronica says. “We would like a room for one night.”

He squints at us. “Have you visited The Welcome Inn before?”

“Now, now, do not tease the children,” Flavian admonishes, striding in from the other room. He places a huge hand on both our shoulders. “These are honored guests!”

We smile up at him. The innkeeper shrugs. “If you say so. Then I shall give you my best room.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “We have heard
that
promise before. The last was not so great, to be honest.”

“Ah,” says the innkeeper, reaching for a key behind him. “But you have not seen the best of the best yet.” He winks at Flavian, who grabs the key from him. Instead of leading us upstairs, this time we go down a long, narrow hallway leading off from the main room. “I shan't be here if you visit again,” Flavian says as we walk. “I have found work closer to home.”

“That is wonderful,” Veronica says sincerely. I squeeze her hand. Her mother will not be coming home to her, but she is still happy that another little girl out there will get her father back.

Flavian stops at the last room on the end and pushes open the door. Real beds! A window that opens and shuts to let in the air! A bathtub! We look at each other and bound into the room, grinning wide.

“Where is your cousin?” Flavian asks as we flop onto the beds. I look up to see that he is still in the hallway. The ceiling is higher in this room than in our other, but not by much. He would never fit.

“He had to go home,” Veronica replies with a giggle.

“That is too bad,” Flavian says. “But no doubt you will see him soon at the next family meal.” He winks. Clearly he never believed Handsome was our cousin.

“No doubt we shall,” Veronica replies.

“Enjoy your stay,” Flavian says, tossing the key to me. “And you do not need to worry about getting locked into the upstairs latrine by mistake. We had to take the bolt off the outside of the door after a father and son were accidentally locked in there last week. For twelve hours.” He winks again and closes the door behind him.

We burst out laughing and it feels good. I shall have to remember to do it more often.

After a meal that tasted just as bad as the last time we were here, I help Veronica scrub the dye out of her hair. The tub water turns deep brown, but even so, we cannot get her hair as light as it was. Time will have to do that.

The next morning we stop for one last visit to the field of wildflowers. Most of these varieties do not grow at home. Veronica wants to collect them for her grandfather, and I for Clarissa. I shall bring some to the apothecary, too, for he uses them in many medicines. I pull out one perfect red rose, and add that to my pile. Roses always remind me of my mother, and I instinctively reach up to touch my mother's locket.

Handsome had given me his compass, so as long as we follow it south through the woods, we manage to stay on course. We talk about silly things like what Handsome's bride will wear to their wedding, and whether their cake will be made of flour and sugar like normal cakes, or from bread! This keeps our minds from worrying about meeting strangers. But in truth I am not very frightened. While I was glad for Handsome's protection, I am equally glad to be the one in charge now. I feel more at home in the world than I ever did. Plus, Veronica and I finally get to run as fast as we can without anyone slowing us down. We could certainly outrun any stranger. As we get closer, I get more and more excited to see Papa and Clarissa. I hope they fared all right without me.

We reach the outskirts of the village well before sunset. “Do you want to go to your grandfather's house first?” I ask Veronica.

She shakes her head. “I must return the robes, and repay the monks for the book. I doubt they would want it back now.”

I laugh, remembering how we shredded it. “I think you are right. People will have to learn how to rid their house of mice some other way.”

She smiles. “And you were right about the magic. I was silly to believe in the stuff of fairy tales.”

“It is never silly to believe in wondrous things.”

She hugs me good-bye and promises to bring my payment to the apothecary shop in the next few days. Before she turns away, I hand her the rose. “To remember our quest,” I tell her.

She takes the rose and sticks it behind her ear. “I am not likely to forget it.”

“Nor I.” I swing my pack over my shoulder again and begin the trek home. It feels strange to be alone after all this time, but I find myself enjoying the solitude.

Papa and Clarissa are sitting at the table eating when I burst through the door. “I have returned!” I call out.

They both jump up and run over. Papa takes my pack and Clarissa hugs me tight. “We missed you!” she shouts.

“I missed you both, too.” I hand her the flowers. Her cheeks look rosy and her dress is clean. She almost seems like her old self again. I glance around the room. They have made it look more like a home in my absence. A rug, a comfortable chair, even a picture on the wall. A few books are stacked by the front door, which means Papa must have at least started selling a bit again.

Clarissa goes to bring me a cup of water, and Papa pulls me aside. He looks tired around the eyes but otherwise much happier than when I left, and a little plumper, too.

“You look good!” he says, holding both of my hands in his. “A quest changes a person, you know.”

I smile. “So I have heard.”

I spend the rest of the evening telling them all about our adventures. When we lay in bed later, Clarissa tells me that one of her old friends came into the apothecary shop complaining of a large scrape where her horse kicked her in the shin. Clarissa was able to make up a poultice of vinegar and myrrh, and now her friend is as good as new and no longer ignoring her. At least I think that was the last thing she said, because I faded off to sleep at the end.

Although I do believe she has begun to enjoy the job, in the morning Clarissa easily hands over the smock she had taken to wearing to the shop to protect her clothes. Papa and I walk into town together, and he tells me how his business is slowly getting on its feet again. He tries to sound enthusiastic, but I can tell he is far from feeling secure again.

When I enter the shop, the first person I see is the butcher, sitting with his head back on a chair. If he recognizes me, he does not show it. He is busy chewing tarragon leaves while the apothecary readies his tooth-pulling tongs. I smile to myself.

“You have returned,” the apothecary says with barely a glance. Then he rattles off a list of ten chores to do.

“I am glad to see you, too,” I reply, tying my apron around my waist.

He grunts and gets to work on the butcher's mouth. I spend the day reorganizing the drawers again, occasionally finding a few ingredients in the wrong place. Nothing as bad (or deadly) as the burdock and nightshade incident, but I would not want an old man to come in for a rash and leave with a remedy for womanly cramps.

As much as I enjoy working here, my mind keeps straying to the open road. The shop, and the whole village actually, seems much smaller than when I left. I remember feeling that way upon our return from trips with Papa, although they were much shorter trips. He and Clarissa seem to have fared fine without me, but it is nice to have our family all together again.

The days pass pleasantly, if slowly. I've been avoiding the bakery since I know it will make me miss Handsome. But after I've been back nearly two weeks Papa asks me to pick up the barley rolls on my way home and I can avoid it no more. A small part of me wonders if I'll find Handsome inside, baking his famous rolls, but instead I find the baker teaching his new apprentice the proper way to take bread out of the oven. Judging by the wet compress the boy is holding around his hand, it is not by sticking your arm in.

I tell the baker how Handsome had gotten kicked out of another bakery when he tried to teach the man to bake better bread. He laughed. “North of the woods, you say? That baker is my cousin. He never takes my advice, either!” He gives me my rolls and tells me that Handsome has a solid future as a baker.

“I shall tell him that if I see him again.”

“I am certain you will,” the baker says. “How can two people named Beauty and Handsome stay apart?”

I smile and thank him for the bread. I do not know what part in my life Handsome will have in the future, but I hope the baker is right.

I arrive home to find Papa waiting at the door. “Come, I have news.”

I hurry inside after him. “What is it? Is everything all right?”

Clarissa jumps up from the chair. “I forgot how boring it is at home all day! And Papa would not tell me why he is jumping around like a child on May Day until you got home.”

“I wanted to tell you both at once,” he says. “I have just received word of a shipment of books long thought lost. I have to pick it up myself, though, and it is far from here. I shan't return for near a week.”

“Is this a big shipment, Papa?” Clarissa asks.

“Yes,” Papa says. “In fact, it is such a big shipment that you can choose anything you like and I shall bring it home for you!”

“Truly, Papa?” Clarissa asks.

He nods. “Anything.”

Clarissa beams at me in excitement and then says, “I would like a silver comb, hair ribbons in pink, yellow, and green, shoes with laces rather than buckles, a hat with an ostrich feather, a pencil for my brows, and a silk scarf.”

“Is that all?” he jokes.

“Oh, and a tin of hard candies.”

“All right,” he says. “And for you, Beauty?”

I have no idea what to ask for. I look around the room and see the wildflowers I had brought back, now lying on a shelf next to the nub of a red candle. I think of the rose I gave Veronica to remind us of our journey, and of my mother's rose petal in the locket around my neck, turned to ash by the fire. “A red rose would be lovely.”

“That is all you want?” he asks.

I nod. Clarissa rolls her eyes but says nothing.

When we awake in the morning, Papa is gone.