My Epic Fairy Tale Fail (3 page)

“Get us out of here!” I cried as the villagers rushed toward us like a fuming snake.

Anthony gathered us all together and—
Pop
!—we were instantly on the palace steps. I could still hear the mob's cries below. In fact, the villagers sounded even angrier, probably because we'd used magic in front of them when they didn't have any of their own.

As Anthony ushered us inside the palace, I expected guards and servants to greet us, but there was just an old man with a few wiry hairs on his shiny head. His uniform was a sad, faded red, and most of its buttons had been replaced with random things like rocks and pieces of metal and what looked suspiciously like small bones.

“The princess has been expecting you,” he said, his voice thin and scratchy. He led us down a dank hallway that smelled like rotting turnips. We had to weave around bowls of water that had been left out in front of almost every window.

“What's with all the bowls?” I finally asked.

The servant sighed. “I keep hoping the sunlight will bring the water to a boil, but so far it has not worked. I promised Her Highness that I will find a solution, and I shall keep trying until I do.”

Anthony gave me a knowing look. This kingdom really was in pathetic shape without magic. People couldn't do even the most basic things for themselves. Finally, the servant ushered us into a cold chamber with only a rocking chair and a throw rug in the center. Princess Nartha was poised in front of a dusty window, standing so still that at first I thought she might be a statue. Then she let out a long sigh.

“Wait here,” I told Trish and Melissa. Neither of them looked happy, but they stayed put.

After I'd left my friends safely in the corner, I followed Anthony to meet the princess. She had the stooped posture of someone old and weathered, and her clothes hung on her like oversized curtains, so I was surprised to see that she was actually only a few years older than me.

Something that sounded like cooing echoed above my head. I glanced up and spotted a handful of pigeons roosting in the rafters. Luckily, they were on the other side of the room so I didn't have to worry about getting “rained on.”

“Stop right where you are!” Princess Nartha cried when Anthony and I had taken a few steps.

My foot hovered above the rug. Maybe the princess had a thing about people wearing shoes in the palace. Not that it would matter in a place as dirty and run-down as this.

“Please,” she said. “Come around this way.” She waved us along the outer edge of the room until we met her in front of the window.

“Your Highness,” I said with an obligatory bow. I nudged Anthony, and he reluctantly bobbed up and down. Hunger definitely did not bring out the gnome's polite side.

“So, you've arrived,” Princess Nartha said with a sigh. Her greenish skin and under-eye circles made her look like she hadn't slept in weeks, but otherwise, her face was impossible to read. I couldn't tell if she was glad to see us or if she was going to cook us for dinner.

“Next time, you might want to send a greeting party instead of an armed mob,” I couldn't help saying.

The princess shrugged under her too-long cape. “I didn't send the mob, but my people are wary of your kind.” She looked me up and down. “The Committee told me your parents were the last adventurers sent here. I'm surprised you would show your face after what they did.”

I clenched my fists so tightly that they shook. “You're wrong. There's no way my mom and dad had anything to do with your magic disappearing.”

“I want to believe you.” Princess Nartha walked over and rested her hand on the back of the rocking chair. “My mother and father put their faith in the Committee for years. But now my parents are gone, and my kingdom is dying.”

“I was sorry to hear about the king and queen,” said Anthony, sounding oddly sincere.

The princess nodded as she stroked the arm of the rocking chair. Then she knelt down to run her fingers over the edge of the rug.

“Thank you,” she said. “I only hope they're not in pain like this. I do what I can for them, keep them clean and safe, but…” She shook her head.

“Wait,” I said, studying the well-polished chair and the plush woven rug. “
Those
are your parents?” I'd seen people turned into frogs, frogs turned into goats, goats turned into dinosaurs, and a million other bizarre combinations, but I'd never heard of anyone being turned into a rug. Suddenly the phrase “letting people walk all over you” had a totally new meaning.

The princess stood up. “One of Ilda's jokes. She said my parents were as interesting as furniture, and then she cursed them.” Her eyes locked on mine. “That was why your mother and father were called here, to help return my parents to their rightful forms. But they failed.”

I swallowed. I couldn't blame the princess for being bitter. After all, I knew what being left alone in the world felt like. But there had to be a reason my parents had failed the mission.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I promise I'll fix things.”

“You are my last hope,” said the princess, shaking her head like she wished that weren't the case. “I've lost nearly all control of my land. Thanks to Ilda's festival, my people are more loyal to her than they are to me. Once the magic is gone completely, I'm afraid the village will turn on me.”

“What is this festival everyone keeps talking about?” said Anthony.

Princess Nartha sighed. “The Humiliation Festival. It's a yearly event now, a chance for Ilda to torture my people. I tried to put a stop to it at first, but these days it's the only way for many to get food for themselves and their families.”

The princess's shoulders now drooped so much that I was afraid she might sink right onto the floor. “Can you tell us more about the Three Impossible Tasks?” I asked.

The princess went back to her spot by the window. I could imagine her standing there for hours, looking down at her dwindling village. No wonder she was acting so depressed.

“I'm starting to believe they truly are impossible,” she answered. “When the curse first began, all the able-bodied people in the land tried their hands at the tasks. Each year, children who are old enough attempt them. But only one person has ever gotten beyond the first task.”

“Who?” said Anthony.

A voice rang out in the hall: “Me!” It was followed by loud clanging.

Princess Nartha rolled her eyes as the sound drew nearer. “Yes,” she said. “Sir Knight is the only one who has ever completed two of the tasks. And he will never let you forget it.”

Clang. Clang! CLANG!

I turned just as the shiniest person I'd ever seen came through the doorway. Blinding armor covered every inch of his body. Each step he took made me think of the time a family of lemurs got loose in the pots and pans cabinet in Aunt Evie's kitchen.

The knight stopped, bowed to the princess—
Clang
!—and flipped up his helmet—
Ding
! I had to admit he was as handsome as a knight could be. I could see Melissa's eyes sparkling from all the way across the room.

“Fair maidens,” Sir Knight said, bowing to Trish and Melissa.
Clang!
Before coming forward—
Clang, clang
!—and dipping into another bow in front of me.
Clang!

I was starting to get a serious headache.

A door on the far side of the chamber opened and the old servant scuttled in. “Your Highness,” he said. “Princess Aletha wishes to greet our guests.”

“Very well,” said Princess Nartha. “Give us a moment to prepare.” She turned to Sir Knight. “Remember what you promised me.”

Sir Knight bowed—
Clang
!—and then straightened up. “I will be perfectly silent, Your Highness.” Then he froze like he was made out of nothing but metal.

Before I could ask what was going on, the door opened again and Sleeping Beauty walked in.

Seriously.

Princess Aletha looked exactly like I imagined the Disney cartoon would if she were turned into a real, live person. Impossibly bouncy, golden hair. Milky skin and perfect features that didn't need a hint of makeup. And a flowing, pink dress that seemed to swirl even when she was standing still.

From the look on Melissa's face, I could tell she was instantly suspicious of this gorgeous newcomer.

“You must be the adventurer!” Princess Aletha said in a melodic voice. She rushed over and wrapped her arms around me in a lilac-scented hug. “Thank you so much for coming to help our kingdom.”

Now this was the kind of welcome I could get used to.

“I hope I can help, Your Highness,” I said, giving her a little bow.

“Please,” she said, taking my hands in hers. “Call me Aletha.” She glanced over at the other people in the room and her eyes stopped on Sir Knight. He was still standing perfectly still, but he was gazing at the princess like she was his favorite kind of ice cream.

Aletha let go of my hands and turned toward the knight. “Hello again,” she said with a shy smile.

The knight blinked back at her. There was no doubt that these two seriously had feelings for each other. I could practically see pink hearts floating in the air between them.

Suddenly, the spell was broken as Sir Knight's eyes widened and he let out a cry: “Maiden!”

Then he lunged forward, grabbed me in a metallic grip, and threw me to the ground.

I hit the floor like a can of soup, my head thumping against the cold stone. Sir Knight had me pinned down, his metal-covered hands crushing my shoulders. For some reason, he was humming heroic-sounding music as he shielded me with his body.

My instincts kicked in, and I surveyed the room for danger. Nothing.

I squirmed out from under Sir Knight's grasp. “Why'd you do that?” I asked. He was still humming a song that could have been the soundtrack for an action movie.

“There was something falling from the ceiling,” he said. “I was trying to save you.”

The sound of gnomish laughter echoed through the chamber. “It was a feather,” Anthony said through his giggles. “Good thing he saved you from it, Jenny-girl. You might have sneezed to death!”

Sure enough, a pigeon feather was lying on the floor near my head. I brushed Sir Knight away as he tried to help me up. “Thanks, I got it.”

Then I heard Melissa let out a little cry. “There's something wrong with the princess!”

I spotted Aletha sprawled on the floor, clearly unconscious. “What's wrong with her?” I asked, rushing over.

“Alas, it was my fault,” said Sir Knight, clanging alongside me. “I startled her, the poor sleeping beauty.”

“More like
fainting
beauty,” Princess Nartha muttered as she knelt beside her sister. She glanced up at me. “Aletha has a mild but very dramatic illness. The slightest scare makes her swoon. That is why I've requested that Sir Knight remain absolutely still around her.”

“I couldn't help myself, Your Highness!” he said. “A maiden was in danger.”

“Yes,” Princess Nartha said dryly. “Jenny, I suppose we are now both indebted to Sir Knight. Just yesterday he saved me from a swooping pigeon.”

“All right, folks. Step aside. I can help her,” said Anthony, reaching for the pouch of medicines he always wore around his waist.

Princess Nartha waved him away. “She'll be all right. We simply need to wait until she awakens.”

As if on cue, Aletha started to stir. Instantly, Sir Knight went into statue mode again.

“Oh,” she said, glancing at all of us gathered around her. “I am so embarrassed. I didn't mean for everyone to make such a fuss.”

“Aletha,” I couldn't help saying, “I have a question. How do you feel about spindles?”

“Spindles?” she said, slowly sitting up. “I must admit, I avoid them because of my delicate disposition. If something so much as scratches me, I instantly faint away.” Aletha's eyes locked on Sir Knight's again. “It's ever so tiring.”

Well, that explained
that
particular fairy tale. Trish was smiling triumphantly as she hunched over her notebook. No doubt there'd be a very interesting bit about the Sleeping Beauty tale in her paper.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Anthony said. “But since Princess Aletha is better now, can we get back to business?” I could tell he was itching to get out of here. Either to conserve his magic or—more likely—to go tear into the candy Trish had given him. “Princess Nartha, if I leave Jenny and her companions here, will they be safe from that mob?”

I glanced out the window. Sure enough, dozens of villagers were still coming toward the castle, armed with pitchforks and shovels and rolling pins.

“I will speak to my people,” said Princess Nartha. “I promise they will not harm your friends. But when it comes to Ilda, there is no protection I can offer.”

“Don't worry about that,” I said. “I'll handle her.”

Princess Nartha shrugged her hunched shoulders. Clearly, she didn't think I had a chance. That made me even more determined. I'd dealt with all types of witches—sparkly, warty, good, and wicked—and I knew I could handle whichever kind Ilda turned out to be.

“I guess I'm done here,” said Anthony. He glanced at me, and for the first time I could remember, he seemed reluctant to leave. “You're sure you'll be okay, Jenny-girl?”

Finally, I realized why he was so worried. My parents had come to the Land of Tales thinking they'd be fine, and they'd never returned. Of course, if Anthony was really so concerned for my safety, why had he agreed to bring Trish and Melissa along? But I guess when it came to the promise of candy after all that celery, the gnome just couldn't resist.

“I'll be fine,” I told him. “If I need you, I'll call.”

He nodded, gave my elbow an affectionate pat, and—
Pop
!—disappeared.

“Now,” I said, turning to the princess. “Where is that witch?”