With a Kiss (Twisted Tales) (23 page)

“Try to catch one.”

He made a show of reluctance. “Deal.” She hopped up in joy, clapping her hands and twirling, kicking the snow into a dust devil behind her.

Sparkle grabbed a gum wrapper. “What’s this?”

“You can stick your gum in it.”

“Gum?”

“It lasts you forever.”

“Oh. Forever!” She crinkled it in her hand and liked the noise. “How about a love potion for it?” She pulled out a bottle of black sparkly potion and held it under Hobs’ nose. “Black for the color of your heart . . . or maybe for your eyes.” She gazed deeply into his and sighed lovingly. “If you want, you can use it on me.”

“Use it on me,” the girls shouted in an ugly unison.

“No, me!”

“Me!”

Hobs hurriedly stole the potion from her. “I’ll take it.”

“What are you doing, Hobs?” I whispered.

“Confiscating.”

I couldn’t imagine anything more dangerous than a love potion in
his
possession, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. It was like arguing with a guy holding a gun.

“I’ll take these for a sneeze!” A nymph had already gotten into my pink lipstick. It was all over her face, and she threw down a packet of sneezes for it. At least that’s what she said it was. It looked like a teabag.

Before I could get a good look at it, another nymph pressed in. “Hobs, I want the earrings!” My mother’s chandelier crystals? A nymph traded a bracelet for them and danced away with them on her ears. The nymph with the lipstick was now covering her arms with the fascinating pink stuff.

“How about this?” Glistenda’s knowing look wasn’t lost on me. She had our book of faerytales in her grip. Bugul’s face tightened. According to Hobs, it was our map out of here. We couldn’t lose it.

Before I could argue, I watched Hobs mold the expression on his face into one of absolute boredom. “That stupid thing? Take it.”

I jerked in surprise, but she just threw it into the backpack until she found something better belted across his chest. Her fingers caressed the strap. “How about your bow?”

“You’d leave me without a weapon? You really don’t care about me, do you Glistenda?”

“Of course I do. Just take me with you. I’ll protect you.”

He blanched and she didn’t miss it. Once again, her beautiful eyes transformed into vengeful slits. “Okay.” Her voice went husky. “Then what about these?” Her hands skipped over the stuffed animals and the unmatched sock until she found the cotton. “I need something to plug my ears. Things can get pretty . . . complicated with all the festivities we have around here.” She met his eyes evenly and I knew that she was planning on doing just that.

“What’s the trade?” Hobs asked slowly.

“Frog’s breath.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“And nymph kisses,” another nymph suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck, “for when I’m not here for you.”

I frowned, but he smiled. “That would be perfect, Orange Blossom.”

“Peach Blossom,” she corrected with crazed delight and danced away.

“Yeah.”

“So, it’s a deal.” It wasn’t a question and Glistenda swept the cotton away from our reach, setting the frog’s breath and nymph kisses heavily down on the table in clever little capsules and lotion containers. Judging by her catlike expression, she had no intention of letting us use them.

Bugul glared across the table at her. It intimidated me, but Glistenda dimpled prettily. Her dainty fingers traveled across the table to take Hobs’ hand. He unobtrusively picked up the frog’s breath, at the same time flicking her off like a speck of dust on his sleeve. She’d be a complete moron not to notice. She shot him a dirty look.

“And how about a way to cross Crystal Lake?” he asked.

“Swim,” Glistenda said. Her beautiful eyes were on me.

Sparkle was horrified. “And get drowned by Merrow? Poor Hobany! No!”

“Who knows?” Bubbles said with a glittery little snort. “Hobs, they might spare you because you are so beautiful . . .
and kill her!
”

Yeah, I got it. No one liked me. What did they think Hobs and I had going? I thought of slapping him to ease their minds, but knew that would only confirm their suspicions.

Glistenda bobbed her head grandly. “Ah yes, that’s an idea. Perhaps that’s your problem, Hobany. This girl. Where did you find this oaf—in some trashy sixties diner?”

I winced, wondering if Hobs would ever defend my honor. He met my eyes, at least having the decency to look apologetic. “She’s a keeper, actually, of poor little Babs.” Glistenda didn’t favor Babs with her disinterested glance—she just glowered at me. Hobs’ expression hardened. “I wouldn’t waste my time with her, Glistenda.”

“No,
you
wouldn’t. Why’s Bugul here? She must be something special for the faery queen to send him.” Glistenda had it wrong, but Hobs didn’t bother to let her in on the secret that the faery queen had sent him instead, and that he was protecting a princess, not some clumsy oaf like me. There was no telling what the nymphs would do if they found out Babs was royalty. Glistenda watched me wickedly and I knew I was in for it. “Would you like to hear a song?” she asked.

If you hear the music, run.
It echoed through my head and the tiara glowed through the dark forest. Glistenda’s quick eyes caught the magical reaction. “What is this?” She pushed the stack of my hair away from my tiara and stiffened. “What is going on here, Hobany?” Hobs stayed rebelliously silent and Glistenda straightened, trying to look clever and failing miserably. She got angry instead. “It seems you are special, oaf.” Her eyes went to Hobs. “I don’t do this often, but since you are more than you appear, I shall grant you a wish. Any wish. Just make it quick.”

Hobs didn’t give me time to think of one. He threw his chair back in his haste. “A toast.” He raised an icy glass in the air. The contents smoked out and curled around his hand. “In gratitude to the nymphs for this splendid meal!”

Never thank a faery.
I didn’t need the tiara’s reminder. The nymphs were groaning in response. It actually physically hurt them. And I thought
I
was a rule breaker? Hobs continued to thank them in his merciless way. “So, thank you, girls, for the food, the fun, the flirting. My appreciation exceeds all bounds. In every language:
Merci! Danke! Tak! Salamat! Gracias!
Dhanyawaad! Thank you!”

They gasped in pain and he grinned broadly, enjoying himself for the first time since his visit to the forest. I threw my hands over Babs’ ears. She was a faery, so it was probably hurting her too. But she didn’t seem to be in pain at all—it must only affect those who were getting thanked. “I thought you weren’t supposed to say that,” I yelled at Hobs.

“Yeah, it really annoys them.”

So much that it hurt? I guess that was how the shoemaker got rid of his helpful little elves. They must’ve been nasty little pests. Glistenda rose to her full height, her scarlet dress billowing around her legs, looking splendid and furious all at once. “I’ll get you for this, Hobany!”

“Thanks!” he returned glibly.

She shuddered. “Get out of here, you
prince
! I shan’t give you your wish now, my girl, but a curse.” I was shocked. Nymphs switched dramatically from love-struck to hatred in a very short time. Of course, Glistenda had always hated me, but I thought she was a little better at hiding her feelings than that.

“Why, thank you.” I shot to my feet. “You are such a dear! I’m so grateful!”

Hobs choked in surprise, but then he looked proud.

Glistenda howled in pain, not able to get the curse out. “Go on!” she blubbered. “Take your chances with Crystal Lake! Swim if you have to!” It wasn’t exactly a curse, but it still didn’t sound good.

“Thanks!” Hobs wrapped a hand around my arm then grabbed Babs. We shoved past the table. The nymphs’ exquisite tableware crashed against the ground into a million pieces of ice, and the girls shrieked and jumped back, saving their super cute slippers from the spill. I murmured my apologies. Hobs wrenched me away.

Bugul carved a trail ahead of us. Everywhere he went, the girls screamed and propelled backwards. I was pretty sure Bugul was on our side now—even if he hadn’t been before, the nymphs had sealed the deal. We were the lesser of two evils. They danced out of the way, paddling their arms through the air and falling inelegantly against the snow in their haste to avoid touching him. “Oooh! Ick!” they shrilled out in supersonic voices.

Hobs glowered at them. We rushed under the glistening branches of the forest, far from the nymphs’ sensitive ears. Our feet stamped our shoe sizes and brands into the snow, leaving our tracks behind. The forest breathed silently down on us. So far, the nymphs hadn’t started their revelries, but it was only a matter of time before they got their revenge on us.

“I know where they dock their boats,” Hobs said between breaths. Bugul stormed through the forest ahead, swinging his club to clear the foliage. A green swamp overflowed over the snowy banks. It looked like thick pea soup mixed with healthy chunks of seaweed and algae. Steam drifted over the surface of the bog. One dip in it, and it would swallow us whole.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t as bad as the nymphs made it out to be.” Hobs skidded to a stop, and Babs and I plowed into him. He twisted and rammed his shoulder into me to stop me from flying face-first into the swamp. I half expected another faery swear out of him when I saw the panic in his eyes; it made me completely doubt his words. This place
was
bad.

“Don’t you have anything nice here?” I shouted. “Like unicorns?”

Hobs rolled his eyes. “Where do you think we are? The land of fantasy and rainbows?” Well, yeah. “There is nothing
that
pure here.” Bugul was already untying the boat from the docks. After making sure Babs and I were settled far from the banks of the swamp near the tree line, Hobs joined him, looking huffy.

Whatever was in that water was dangerous. There had to be a way out of this. “Won’t the nymphs want an exchange for their boat?” I asked.

“I’m terrified of what they’d try to give us in return.” Hobs’ fingers fumbled over the side of the boat. “No, I’ll take a chance with their wrath. They’ll get over it. They always do. Well, with me, anyway. They’ll just give you a bad make-over and turn your skin inside out. Didn’t you hear Glistenda? She actually tried to give you a wish.”

I swallowed back the dry feeling in my throat. “What’s so bad about a wish?”

He laughed without humor. “Try it if you don’t believe me, but personally I’d consider the source. Nymph wishes are dangerous. Wish to be rich, famous, live forever. It doesn’t matter, somehow you’ll end up dead—especially if the nymphs hate you. I knew they’d be jealous of you.”

Of me and Hobs? Or was it because of something else? I hugged Babs close to me. At least
she
was safe from them. They didn’t spare her a glance.

Chapter Fifteen

I would be a mermaid fair;
I would sing to myself the whole of the day;
With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair;
And still as I comb’d I would sing and say,
’Who is it loves me? who loves not me?’

—Alfred Tennyson,
The Mermaid

S
nowflakes danced across the sky, melting into the green depths of Crystal Lake. Hobs plunged the paddle into the water after the melted flakes, rowing us further and further away from the shore. So far, there were no signs of the Merrow, but the other side looked too far away to get there easily. Something terrible was about to happen. Seaweed clung ominously to the paddle. Hobs was trying to put us at ease. “They can’t catch us . . .”

“. . . we’re the gingerbread man?” I finished for him. “And we all know what happened to him.”

He went silent. Bugul steered us away from the island in the middle of the lake. The reeds swayed silently in the cold chill. “Just keep your mind blank,” Hobs said, “or they’ll use it against you.”

“I have nothing to hide.” I gave him a significant look. The nymphs had gotten to me. Just like the wolves, they had alluded to all sorts of things that Hobs . . . Hobany—no, the prince!—was keeping from me. “How about you?” I asked. Do you have anything to hide?”

“Plenty.” As usual he was unruffled. “If we’re not careful, we’ll be their next snack. The Merrow feed on the foils of men.”

“So women are safe?”

He laughed appreciatively. “Merrow distort the truth. Ever hear anyone talk behind your back? You can’t help but listen, but when you do, you’re sorry. You’ll wish you can get it out of your mind, but it won’t leave. It’s like acid eating at you. That’s exactly what the Merrow are like. They steal your thoughts. You don’t want to hear what they have to say. Even if you know they present the truth like a lie—that’s what they do—their words eat at you anyway, and they swallow your trust whole. And then? You find yourself turning against those you shouldn’t.”