Rump: The True Story of Rumpelstiltskin (22 page)

The miller scoffed. “He
gave
you all the riches you have.” I hated to admit it, but he had a point. “And you shall have plenty more children when we are through,
only take care not to bargain them away.” The miller’s voice turned harsh and cold. “Give him the child, girl.”

“Please!” Opal broke down and cried, each breath coming out in racking sobs. I was filled with pity for her. I fought as hard as I could against my next step. I thought of my own mother, holding me close as she whispered my name in my ear. Had she meant to bestow such a mean fate upon me? Did she want for me to be tangled in all this magic? All because of a name. A name is supposed to be your destiny, it’s supposed to give you power, but I was utterly powerless. My name told me I was, and I didn’t see how I could change that.

Opal was before me now, kneeling and holding her baby to me. He was fast asleep, a tiny creature. Luckily, he looked nothing like his father.

“What is his name?” I asked.

“Archie,” she whispered. “Archibald Bartholomew Oswald.” And she sobbed more after saying the last two names. I couldn’t blame her.

I took the baby from her arms, and Opal slumped to the ground, wetting the wood planks with her tears. Here I held the future king in my arms. He started to squirm and make noise. What was I supposed to do when it made noise?

“Good,” said the miller. “Now that bargains have been kept and promises fulfilled, I think it best that we move on. Yes, little demon, we have business to discuss.”

The miller’s eyes were now overflowing with an insatiable greed. I looked away in disgust, and suddenly I
realized why the room felt so small. Straw. Walls of straw, mountains of straw. It towered on both sides of the room, covering all the walls to the ceiling. There was only a narrow space from the door to the center of the room, where the cradle lay, and then a small clearing behind that for the window. To my right, the straw was cleared for the fireplace. In front of the fireplace was a spinning wheel. A chill ran down my spine and I shivered.

“No,” I said.
Never again!

“Oh, come, come,” said Oswald. “I think you rather enjoy making the gold. Gives you a feeling of power, usefulness. Your mother felt the same.” He grinned wickedly.

“My mother? But you … she …”

“Oh yes,” he said. “I knew of her gift. I met her long before she came to The Mountain. I believe I was the first to benefit from her skill, as I shall be the last. How delighted I was to learn that these things can be passed on.”

My insides went cold. The floor tilted beneath me. “You’re the merchant,” I said. “You’re the one who made her spin all that straw into gold.”

“No, no, I never
made
her. I believe she was rather enthusiastic, and we always struck a bargain. It was always a fair trade. Straw isn’t worth all that much, you know. I was rather generous, really.” He rubbed his immense belly.

“But then she ran away to that blasted mountain. Thought she could hide there in all the gold, but I caught up to her—and a good thing too. Provident, even. The miller had just died with no sons to carry on his work. I was wealthy enough to buy the mill, and I think your mother was glad in the end. I daresay you’re alive because
I kept her so well fed after your father died. And aren’t you grateful? You probably wouldn’t have been born had I not bargained with her, the poor soul. It’s a pity she died.” He gave out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“But I did hope that her son might show a bit of the same promise. So I waited. I was patient, and you did not disappoint. Frederick and Bruno were charged to keep an eye on you, and how delighted I was when my sons came and told me the outlandish story that you had a pile of gold in your cottage.

“It was all too easy to get you to come begging, and then you became quite greedy. Wanted more food than everyone else. You didn’t even share. Shameful. And then we had the blunder with the king! Yes, he’s a bit more attentive than his predecessor when it comes to the gold being traded in his kingdom. I should have known.… Ah, well, things turned out better than I had hoped, what with you spinning for Opal. And now she is the queen.”

Opal remained curled on the ground, sobbing.

“But we are not through. You see, little demon, though Opal is the queen and I am Lord of The Mountain, the king is not pleased with her lack of performance these past months. Of course we have made our excuses with her delicate situation, but that has all passed. And so it has become necessary that we please our king, and perhaps ourselves, a little more.” He chuckled, running his hands over the straw.

I hated him. Rage gathered in my stomach, burned in my chest, making my head throb.
He
was the demon. He
was the reason for my mother’s sorrow, her entrapment, and her death. All my troubles had begun with the miller. “I’m not spinning any more gold,” I said.

“Really?” said the miller, amused.

The baby began to cry in my arms, and Opal wailed too.

“I think I’ve got all I can handle. Thanks.” I backed away. He could hold me here forever, but there was nothing he could offer me that would make me spin a single straw into gold. Nothing!

“But you haven’t heard what I have to offer,” he said, grinning wickedly.

A chill ran down my spine. I just knew it was going to be something awful.

“I don’t want anything. I’m not spinning.” I started to back away with the baby in my arms. Better to stop here. Just take the baby and leave. But Frederick and Bruno grabbed my arms on either side and held fast.

“Oh, I think you’ll reconsider in a moment,” said the miller. “It’s such a good bargain. For your gold, I shall give you …” He reached behind a stack of straw, and the whole pile shook, as though an animal was struggling to get out.

“… I shall give you your friend unharmed.”

The miller pulled a girl from out of the straw, bound and gagged. One of her eyes was black and swollen, but the other was wide, burning with a fierce and savage rage.

Red.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Grasping at Straws

Red fought against her bindings and gave a muffled scream beneath the gag until she was purple.

The miller laughed. “She is a feisty one, I’ll say. Rather impolite. It took both Frederick and Bruno to catch her. They told me she was your only friend in the world, and, well … I suppose if you have only one friend, you might want to keep her. In one piece, that is.”

Frederick and Bruno laughed, and Red flailed and struggled against the ropes. Frederick and Bruno stopped laughing and stepped back. Even though she was bound, Red was like a mad beast that might break free at any moment.

“Boys,” said the miller, “set our little friend in the corner. Then go find a place to wash. You smell like swine.”

Frederick and Bruno shoved Red into the corner by the fireplace and then left.

“Now,” said the miller, turning to me. “Do we have a bargain?” Red made a muffled growl and shook her head behind Oswald. What did she think I should do? I couldn’t let her get hurt.

The baby in my arms had been squirming and whimpering all this while, but suddenly he exploded in shrill wails. He sounded like a whole swarm of mad pixies.

“He’s hungry! Let me have him!” cried Opal, rushing toward me, but the miller stopped her. “Not until he starts spinning.”

Spinning, spinning, spinning. Red and gold and Opal and the baby. I couldn’t think with all the wailing! I would have to think while I spun.

“Take him and feed him!” I shouted to Opal, and sat down at the spinning wheel. My hands shook as I picked up the straw. The spinning wheel vibrated when I put my foot on the treadle, like it knew something bad was happening. This was the sort of magic Hadel had warned me about. It was
wrong
. Twisted. I pushed the straw through the wheel and began to spin.

“Very wise,” said Oswald. “Now, the king grows impatient. He is eager for his queen to display her talents once again, and as you can see, he’s gathered straw all this time, just for her to spin. You have three days.”

“Three days?” I asked. “I can’t finish this in three days!”

“In three days the king will return with his hunting party,” said the miller. “We have promised him results. Therefore you will promise to make the gold. Three days. Fail me, and the bargain is off.” He smiled malevolently at Red. She glared at him. Anger welled up in me
stronger than I had ever felt it before. I wanted to punch him—punch him in his big red belly and make him explode! And then the anger faded into despair. I was back where I started. Three days would not be the end. I would never stop spinning the straw into gold. Gran had tried to keep me from all this, from the miller and his greed, from my own stupidity, but maybe there was nothing either of us could have done.

The miller stepped forward with a length of rope and bound my legs and ankles to the spinning wheel. “We wouldn’t want you to get lost,” he said.

No, I couldn’t be lost. My name was Rumpel. I was trapped.

One spool of gold.

Red was sitting on the floor. She was dirtier than I’d ever seen her. She had scratches and cuts, and the dirt on her face was streaked as though she had been crying. Red crying. Strong, fierce, fearless Red, crying. I hated to imagine.

Two spools of gold.

Opal sat in a pile of straw, feeding her baby. She was crying too. When she finished, the miller made her put Archie in a basket next to me and told her to back away, to remind us both that he was mine. Some grandfather.

Three spools of gold. Four.

The miller gathered the gold as I spun it, draping it around his neck and waist, and laughing all the while.
Finally, after he was more tangled in gold than Red was in rope, he slumped down and his head began to nod. I was feeling hopeful. If he fell asleep, I could untie Red and we could make a run for it, but then I remembered Archie. Even if I could free myself, I would have to take the baby and Opal would probably start shrieking and that would be that. But I wanted to at least talk to Red.

“Opal,” I said after the miller started snoring. “Ungag Red.” Opal looked at me as if I had insulted her. I tried to sound more submissive and pleading.

“Your Highness, please? Take off Red’s gag?”

“No,” she said sharply. “I’m the queen, and you don’t give me orders. She’s a mean creature. She always pulled my hair when I was a girl. Evil, that’s what she is. Red is
evil
.”

Red gave Opal a look that could certainly be called evil, and Opal cowered and then lashed out at me. “And so are you, you little demon baby stealer!” She began to wail again. Oh, make it stop! I couldn’t think! I needed Red’s brains right now. Mine were just too scrambled.

“Opal, Your Majesty. If you let her speak to me, I may be able to tell you a way that you can keep your baby.” It was a hollow promise, but I knew it would work for now. Opal stopped crying and her eyes widened.

“My baby? You’ll give him back …? For good?”

“I can tell you how it might be possible if you take off Red’s gag.”

Opal obeyed, and as soon as she did, Red let out a slew of curses that I didn’t think appropriate for infant ears. The baby didn’t either, because he started crying and
the miller began to stir in his sleep. Quickly, Opal picked up Archie and rocked and soothed him, which soothed the sleeping miller as well. I had to admit, seeing Opal cuddle and whisper to her baby was very sweet. It made my heart pinch and swell all at once. I really didn’t want to take her baby.

“Rump, you idiot,” said Red in a harsh whisper, “why did you come back?”

“I didn’t want to,” I said, still spinning the straw. “Frederick and Bruno found me and kidnapped me, and I almost got away until a gnome found me and announced the birth of Opal’s baby. Then I had to come. Did you know that magic can force you to do something you don’t want to?”

“Magic will make you do anything you’ve bound yourself to,” said Red. “Why do you think witches don’t like to get involved in anything? You’re in a tangle, Rump.”

Since birth.

“Well, what about you? Unless I spin this gold, you’re going to die.”

“And what do you think they’ll do with you? Make you lord of the pixies? Oh, please, Rump!
You’re
the one who’s going to die if you
don’t
stop!”

“I can’t. Red, I can’t.” In a whisper, I quickly told her what I had learned about my aunts and my mother and my name. Her eyes widened as I spoke, and when I finished, all she managed to say was “Oh.”

The things I’d said hung in the air for a heavy moment.

“This is my destiny, Red. I don’t have any choice.”

“That’s not true, Rump. You do have a choice.”

I started to feel irritated. “I
don’t
have a choice, Red, unless I choose to let the miller hurt you, maybe even
kill
you. Or kill me. Do you want me to make that choice?”

“No, Rump! That’s not what I—”

The miller snorted and sat up abruptly, looking dazed and confused. “Wha …? What are you …?”

Red whispered frantically to me. “Your name, Rump. There has to be more than that. Your mother wouldn’t have done that!”