Tangled Magick (9 page)

Mae thought she saw a small smile curve upon Folkvarus's lips as she peered over her shoulder.

P
oppy stopped short of entering the Great Room, her bravado vanishing like the last lavender honey muffin at a hapenny picnic. There were even more trolls in the Great Room today than there were yesterday. Piles of bones littered the crumbling stone floor, mounds of food were piled high on the tables, and fat candles dripped everywhere. Trolls fought over the choicest meats and snatched full goblets from one another, spilling the contents onto themselves, the benches, and the floor. Snarls and growls echoed through the room. They were like a pack of wild dogs fighting over scraps.

“Don't worry overmuch,” Folkvarus whispered into their ears as he steered the girls forward. “They've been given orders not to eat the queen's new servants.”

“In my experience, trolls don't follow orders all that well,” Mae mumbled. She wrapped her arms around herself. It was so cold in the chamber that she felt her nose hair stiffen.

Her gaze traveled nervously over the army of trolls as they crossed the room. Drooling fangs seemed to point in her direction, tongues licked lips, claws reached out and pinched her flesh. She heard the phrase “sweet meats” entirely too many times. The girls climbed the stairs onto the dais, where the queen hunched over her dinner plate. There were no forks, no knives, no embroidered linens. It was the most uncivilized group of diners Mae and Poppy had ever had the misfortune to join.

“It's about time you two showed up,” the queen mumbled. “Serve my dinner.”

Mae and Poppy exchanged a glance. There were no utensils to serve the queen with.

“What are you waiting for? You've got hands, don't you?” Huldfrejya snarled.

Mae could just see over the table. She grabbed the handle of a badly cracked tureen and slid it toward the queen. A gold liquid oozed from the fracture. The handle broke away from the lid as Mae lifted it. She quickly set it on the table and rose on her tiptoes to pour the soup into the queen's bowl. It sloshed and splashed Mae's face. She gasped. “The soup is cold as a stone.”

“That's how I like it,” Huldfrejya said. She gave Mae a shove and then picked up her bowl, slurping from the edge.

“But it would taste so much better if it was warm,” Poppy chirped as she reached for the flagon of wine.

“I like it cold!” Huldfrejya screeched.

The cacophony faded as the trolls in the chamber turned to look at what was happening on the dais. Black eyes glittered in the candlelight. Fangs gleamed.

Huldfrejya waved a dismissive hand at the trolls. “Go on, then! Eat!”

With shaking hands, Poppy poured wine from the flagon into a tarnished silver goblet. The trolls resumed their bickering over who was going to eat what and bets on when they were going to get to eat the new servants. Mae replaced the lid on the tureen, though it really didn't matter since the soup was so cold anyway. She peered under the table, since it was much easier to look under than it was to hold herself up on her tiptoes to look over. Tattered banners hung from the beams that crisscrossed above to form the roof of the chamber. There were at least two hundred trolls at some twenty-odd tables. A wide path between the tables led to the doors at the end of the room. The doors looked old and heavy, with hammered iron hinges
and black handles. Many of the panes in the long round-top windows were broken. Ivy climbed through the spaces left behind by the missing panes and forced itself through cracks in the walls and floors. Debris filled every nook and cranny. Mae wondered if the queen even noticed the castle crumbling around her.

A crash and the sound of glass shattering made Mae jump and bump her head. The queen stood up abruptly, sending her chair flying out from beneath her. She slammed her fist on the table, breaking her soup bowl in the process. The golden liquid oozed off the tabletop and dripped onto the floor. “Break another of my windows and I'll break your bones!”

Poppy righted the chair and pushed it forward. The queen flopped back into it with a grumble, shoving the broken bowl away. Mae tried to scoop up the biggest pieces of pottery. Once they were in her hand, she didn't know what to do with them, though.

“I don't know why I put up with these no-good trolls. What have they ever done for me?” Huldfrejya turned her icy glare on Mae. “What's wrong with you?”

Mae looked at the shards in her hands.

“Just throw it on the floor.”

Nodding, Mae walked to the back of the dais and dropped the broken bowl in a pile of other broken dishes. Didn't anyone ever clean this room?

Poppy reached for the tray of meat. “Would you like a breast or a leg?”

“I don't care, just put it on my plate,” Huldfrejya spat.

Poppy set a chicken leg before the queen. Mae heard Poppy's stomach growl, and hers followed suit. The smell of the feast was almost too much for her to handle. After all, she'd not eaten anything since the bowl of oat and berry mush yesterday afternoon. Forget about skipping breakfast and midnight nibble—living in the castle was like living with Gelbane all over again. She set the platter back on the table, but she couldn't
take her eyes off it. She wondered if Huldfrejya would notice if she took just a small bite of meat. Her hand inched toward the platter. Poppy was shaking her head furiously. “No, Mae!” she whispered.

Mae diverted her fingers and grabbed a plate of vegetable stuffing. Sliding her fingers into the sticky substance, she asked, “Stuffing, miss?”

Three loud booms echoed in the Great Room. The candle flames flickered and swayed as the two large doors at the end of the hall whooshed open. A tall, thin man entered. He wore a pointed hat and long, flowing robes. His beard was short and oiled into a point, and the staff he carried clanged against the stone floor as he sauntered into the room. A few of the feasting trolls slunk away. Those who remained watched him with wary eyes. So did Mae.

The stuffing dropped out of her hand and plopped onto the plate Poppy had exchanged for the broken bowl.

“Huldfrejya, my queen.” The young wizard swept his hat off and bowed. His hair was the color of pepper and oiled like his beard. It shone in the candlelight like the skin of an eel shines in the sun.

“What do you want, Geindride?” Huldfrejya picked at the food on her plate, her head cradled in one hand while a piece of chicken dangled from the fingers of her other.

“I heard you had a successful raid,” Geindride said.

“If you count a bunch of hapennies a successful raid, then yes, it was successful,” the queen said through a mouthful.

“So the magickal skin I disguised you with lasted long enough to fool them?”

Huldfrejya's eyes flickered with brightness and then slowly faded as she glanced at the wizard before returning her gaze to her plate. “It was adequate.”

The wizard made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat. “I heard the wizard Callum was amongst them. Quite a catch, if I do say so myself.”

Geindride's voice was so slick it oozed over Mae like a snail trail.

“I'd like to…speak with him.” Geindride bowed again, his free hand held palm up above his head in supplication. He raised his eyes to Huldfrejya. “With your permission, of course.”

Huldfrejya jerked her thumb to the stairway that rose out of the chamber to her left. “He's in the tower. You ain't gonna get much out of him, though. I used the elixir you gave me.”

“You used the forty winks elixir?” Geindride asked. He straightened up, and a slow smile spread on his lips.

“Almost the whole flagon!” Huldfrejya cackled.

Geindride frowned. “He won't be much use to us in a suspended state. I don't know if I can brew a strong enough antidote to wake him.”

“I don't care nothin' about waking him!” the queen yelled. She stood up and pushed her chair away. “He can rot in that tower as far as I'm concerned, just like I've rotted in this castle.”

Poppy chewed on her lower lip. Tears stung Mae's eyes.

“Yes, my queen.” Geindride approached the dais, taking a packet out of his robe. “Tonight is the first night of the full moon. Remember to take a dose of your medicine for the next three nights. I've brought you a fresh batch.”

Medicine? Poppy and Mae exchanged a look. Mae did not like the sickly sweet tone of Geindride's voice.

He placed the packet on the table and patted it with a long finger. His nails were yellowed and dirt rimmed the cuticles. Geindride gave the girls an inquiring gaze and then turned on his heel and strode toward the staircase. Mae watched him as he disappeared into the tower.

“I'm tired,” Huldfrejya announced. “And you all have ruined my appetite.” She turned to the girls. “You have three minutes to eat and be back in my chamber. Don't be late.” The queen grabbed the packet and walked down the dais stairs, pushing her way through the trolls. Mae went into action, pocketing
what could be eaten later, like muffins, apples, and carrots, and filling her mouth full of chicken and stuffing. Poppy quickly followed her lead.

“If we can find a way to get into the tower, perhaps I can find Callum and wake him up,” Mae whispered between bites.

“I hope you can,” Poppy said, but Mae could hear the doubt in her voice.

“I'm going to get us out of here,” Mae said. “Those doors.” She pointed to the doors at the end of the Great Room. “I don't see any trolls guarding them—do you?”

Poppy shook her head. “But maybe that's because they're eating. I doubt Huldfrejya would make it that easy. If it was, don't you think the other servants would have left a long time ago?”

Mae thought about that as she grabbed another chicken leg and ducked under the table. She felt like a rat hiding with a piece of cheese.

“C'mon, Mae. We don't want to be even a second past those three minutes, or who knows what she'll come up with.”

Mae stood and wiped her hands on her jacket, which was already quite dirty from cleaning, and her mouth on her sleeve. Poppy watched her, her mouth slightly agape. Mae shrugged. What else was she to do? She tossed the bone on the table and grabbed Poppy's greasy hand. They ran through the trolls and into the hallway.

“Do you think Geindride is a wizard?” Poppy asked.

“Yes,” Mae answered. “A bad one.”

The nymph's face appeared in the center of the carved rose. “What are you two ninnering on about?”

“Nothing,” Poppy answered. “Let us in.”

“What's the magick word?”

“Please,” Mae said. “Before the queen gets angry that we aren't there to help her prepare for bed.”

“Why should I care if she is?”

“Don't you ever want to return to the forest?” Mae asked.

The nymph rolled her eyes. “Of course I do! What an inane question.”

“What if I told you that
I
could get you back into the forest?”

“I wouldn't believe you,” harrumphed the nymph.

“You would be silly not to,” Poppy said. “Maewyn is a wizard.”

“Oh, yes, a little kitchen witchery. That's all I've seen. Are you going to save us all by enchanting the castle's brooms and mops?”

“Please let us in,” Poppy begged.

The nymph stuck out her tongue and swirled back into the wood grain. Poppy pounded on the door.

Mae shook her head. “That's not going to work.”

Poppy crossed her arms and pouted. “That nymph is a pain in the rear.”

Mae rapped her knuckles lightly on the door three times as she'd seen Folkvarus do.

The door swung open.

Mae grinned. “Maybe
pain in the rear
was the magick word?”

They walked into the queen's chamber. Since the fire had died out, the temperature had dropped considerably. Frost clung to the corners of the windowpanes. The queen was standing by the broken window, staring out at the dying rays of the setting sun. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “The full moon rises.”

Poppy looked at Mae, her eyebrows arched high over her wide eyes. Where was the snappy, demanding troll queen?

Mae shrugged and made a face that indicated she had no idea, either. “Would you like us to help you prepare for bed?”

The queen turned from the window and trudged to the bed. She sat on the edge of it, studying her hands in her lap. “I wasn't always like this, you know.”

Mae scrambled up beside her and began untying the laces on her bodice. Poppy came forward with a nightgown in hand.

The corset fell away, and Mae noticed tears dripping onto the queen's hands. She was crying, and where the tears fell, pink skin appeared and then faded away. Poppy noticed it too. She looked at Mae with a bewildered expression. Mae made a gesture for Poppy to keep the queen talking.

“Wh-what were you like before…all this?” Poppy ventured to ask.

The queen sighed. “I once dressed in lovely gowns and was considered the most beautiful princess in the realm. Then the Trillium War broke out and Geindride said he was taking me to a safe place…that I would return to my father when the war was over. But the castle has become my prison… Does the war still rage on?”

“What's the Tri—” Poppy started to ask. Mae cut her off with a furious shake of her head.

Mae untied the bow at the front of the queen's shift and slid it down her arms.

Poppy drew the nightgown over her head. “You could be beautiful again.”

“We could help you,” Mae added.

The queen snorted. “I've always heard about hapennies and how selfless they are. No wonder the trolls said you make good servants.” She turned away from the girls and lay in bed. “I need my medicine—it keeps me from feeling melancholy. Two shakes of the powder into a goblet of water.” She pointed to the brown packet, which sat next to a water pitcher and a goblet on the low table by the overstuffed chairs.