“That’s a good point,” Gabriella admitted. She didn’t dare take too long to think of an answer for fear of losing the momentum she had gained. For the first time, all the members of the Council appeared receptive to human reason and open to the possibility of Benlos’s innocence. Except, of course, for Ardforgel: He looked nervous. “A very good point.” Gabriella licked her lips, hoping this didn’t make her look as uncertain and shifty as Ardforgel did. So she hastened to say, “The answer is clear.”
Well, not exactly.
She forced a laugh. “Though clear and clearly have … um … clearly … been overused words today.” While nobody pointed out that clearly she was stalling for time, nobody smiled at her little wordplay, either.
She glanced at Benlos, but there was no help from him, as he watched her in apparent expectation that she knew what she was doing. She glanced at Parf …
… and suddenly the answer was clear.
She asked, “Parf, why are we here?”
Miserably—he definitely wasn’t so certain of her talents as his father was—Parf admitted, “I haven’t a clue.”
“Yes, you do.”
He gave her a don’t-you-be-playing-your-word-games-with-me look.
“Who told us your father was appearing before the Council? That he was in trouble?”
As though suspecting a trap, Parf muttered, “Aunt Vimit.”
“And how did she know?” Gabriella asked. She was watching Ardforgel and saw she was on the right track, even though Parf replied, “Dunno. Vomit knows everything and likes to tell everybody everything.”
But Ardforgel was squirming.
More to the Council than to Parf, Gabriella asked, “Could she have come home and found the one dragon’s tooth was gone? Could Ardforgel have admitted he’d given it to Benlos, and why? Could your aunt Vimit have been the one to point out that this cauldron plan could not possibly work, and that the only way to get back the tooth was to accuse Benlos of stealing it?”
“No,” Ardforgel protested, but weakly. “Sylvimit wouldn’t bring charges against Benlos over one tooth.”
Gabriella reconsidered quickly. “But would she accuse him if there were fewer teeth than she expected there to be—because she has been spending them so freely, and you didn’t want to admit you were running short, didn’t want to tell her that both of you needed to be more frugal?”
Ardforgel’s gaze took in the Council members. Gabriella was sure his lips were about to form the word maybe, but he shifted to, “You have no proof.”
“Which,” Gabriella pointed out, “is hardly the same as no.”
“No,” Ardforgel said, though it was—very clearly—too late.
Irate Fairy Woman slammed her hand against the table to get everyone’s attention. “Serious questions have been raised,” she declared. “This hearing will reconvene tomorrow and we can declare our official verdict then.”
“But—” Ardforgel started.
“Tomorrow!” Irate Fairy Woman repeated.
And Gabriella even dared to hope the Councilwoman sounded impatient with him.
It was a start.
Fortunately, the search party that was looking for them was stumbling and bumbling through the woods, making enough noise that both Phleg and the bear heard them coming long before anybody was close enough to see or be seen. Fred was busy yawning, and so didn’t notice.
“Thank you,” Phleg told the bear.
The bear growled what was so clearly a You’re welcome, and thanks for all the stories that Phleg was sure even someone who didn’t speak bear would understand.
But … apparently there was clear and then there was clear.
Fred had seemed, if not comfortable with the situation, then at least willing to accept the idea of all three of them resting against the tree trunk. But now he suddenly paled. He scrambled back, as though trying to reverse himself through the trunk and out the other side.
The bear stood on its hind legs, momentarily looming over Fred—which was no more than polite leave-taking manners in bear society. But perceiving how nervous this made Fred, the bear considerately dropped to all fours and shambled off into the woods without another word.
“Whew!” Fred said. “That was a close call!” He saw the look Phleg was giving him. “Ooorrrr … maybe not?”
“Not,” Phleg corrected him.
Fred’s head drooped, and Phleg realized he was embarrassed. And ashamed. Both at having been afraid, especially unnecessarily so, and at proving yet again that he did not know as much about the world—at least the wilderness world—as she did.
So she fibbed, saying, “But it was a natural mistake.” And she gave an encouraging nod and smile.
Fred smiled back—but while Phleg was still enjoying that, Fred at last became aware of the ruckus being made by the oncoming humans tromping through the woods toward them. “Hey!” he told Phleg as though he was breaking the news to her. “Listen! I think we’re about to be rescued!”
Phleg was tempted to say Not! to that, too.
She did not need rescuing. She was tempted to run off after the bear, leaving the humans to sort things out. After all, nothing had changed since yesterday, when she had decided her only option was to run away. She was only here for one more day, because she was not the real Princess Gabriella, however much Fred might think she was.
It was no use growing fond of him.
But running, she realized, could put the bear in danger, if the rescue party chased after her.
And … it would mean saying good-bye to Fred, whom she would probably never see again. Even if she had no business liking him, she would find that final good-bye difficult, so she preferred to put off saying it.
“Over here!” Fred called out to their rescuers, waving his arms, though surely the searchers could hear him long before they would see him.
Phleg didn’t recognize the people from the castle, though they recognized her—or rather, they recognized Princess Gabriella. And they seemed more relieved to have found her than to see Prince Fred. Probably, Phleg thought, because the princess was likely to be even more inept in the forest than Fred.
It was a scary thought.
“I’m fine,” she assured them several times as they hovered and twittered over her like anxious robin parents. The three men had each brought fur-lined cloaks for her, presumably in case they should not find her until the dead of winter, which was only—what?—five months away. (And how many cloaks could one princess have, anyway?) Two of the men proceeded to bundle her up against the chill of the summer afternoon, and the third was simply waiting for the other two to get out of his way. All this concern, she thought, and they didn’t even know that she and Fred had been in the stream, as the sun, mercifully, had dried their clothing.
“Enough!” Phleg said, squirming out from beneath the heavy cloaks. “You’re going to kill me with heat stroke! I’m totally unharmed. Prince Fred, however, is injured and needs to be helped back to the castle. Why don’t you use the cloaks as a sort of sling to carry him?” She layered all three cloaks on top of one another for added strength and positioned one man at the end with the neck openings and the other two at the spread-out hems.
As they settled him on the not-quite-a-litter sling, Fred told the men, “Princess Gabriella has been amazing! She found me when I was lost, pulled me from the stream, and tended my injuries.”
All of the men looked at Phleg in varying degrees of dumbfoundedness that grew with each of Gabriella’s stated accomplishments. “Really?” one of them said, in the tone that polite people use instead of saying You liar, you!
Phleg realized that such deeds would have been beyond the real Gabriella. If the men believed Fred, she worried they might start to have doubts about her.
But, meanwhile, Fred was in no condition to recognize the nuances of skepticism. He nodded. “Not only that,” he continued, “but she can talk to animals.”
“Well,” Phleg murmured, eager to deflect suspicion, “anybody ca
n talk to animals.”
“But they can understand her!” Fred insisted. “And she can understand them! She got a bullfinch, and a pair of beavers, and a bear to help me.”
Phleg made sure she was standing where Fred couldn’t see her as she tapped her head to indicate to the men that there was something wrong with Fred’s thinking. “Prince Fred might have a fever,” she informed them.
“Ah!” they said as they hefted him up on the litter and started back toward the castle. And they even periodically said, “Yes” and “Of course” and “Imagine that” as Fred chattered on and on about beavers and their yearlong busy season, and bears who liked stories …
Gabriella was amazed that the Council didn’t hold Benlos in captivity. They said he could go home or not as he wished, so long as he was back in the morning to hear their judgment.
“Surely that’s a good sign,” Gabriella observed to Parf after she, he, and Benlos stepped through the doorway and found themselves back in the Everywhere Room. “It must mean they trust him.”
Benlos smiled and said, “Indeed.”
But Parf was making a face that indicated Gabriella was wearisome. “Or,” Parf said, “it might have something to do with the fact that the Council have all linked with him, so they’ll know when he’s using magic, and for exactly what spells.” At her puzzled expression he explained, “It’s like a leash. Like you use to lead your animals around.”
“I don’t personally have any animals,” Gabriella reminded him.
Parf shrugged. He turned to his father. “Are you coming home with us? Or are you off on more of your travels?”
“Of course I’m coming home,” Benlos said evenly, refusing to rise to Parf’s bait.
Gabriella had no idea why Parf was in such a foul mood, but in any case it was a barely-speaking-to-each-other trio who stepped through another doorway out of the Everywhere Room … and into the yard in front of the little round house in the woods.
One or two of the younger children happened to be outside. “Daddy! Daddy!” they cried. “Daddy’s home!”
The rest of the family came tumbling out of the house or from around the back.
Benlos swept up the youngest boy. “I’m so happy to see you!” he told the child. “Which one are you again?”
By the gleeful way the child announced his name, Gabriella could tell this was a regular game with them.
“My! There’s an awful lot of you!” Benlos said as the children clamored for attention, even Daisy, who was next oldest after Phleg and Parf. “Just how many of you are there? Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?”
“Twelve!” they corrected with squeals and laughter.
Gabriella found herself … well, she had been warned Benlos was charming, and she knew she should not be swayed by smiles and an easy manner. But she couldn’t help but be won over by his relationship with the children. Still, at the same time her heart ached for missing her own father.
And then Mumsy came out, not rushing, wiping her hands on a rose petal towel. “Come back, have you?” she greeted her husband.
“Ahhh!” Benlos said. “And there’s the light of my life, my bride, looking as young and beautiful as the day we met.”
Mumsy snorted. But when Benlos touched the dragon’s tooth necklace and a bouquet of wildflowers appeared in his hand, she accepted them from him.
“Waste of a good spell,” she chided even as she buried her nose in the blooms. “If we wanted flowers, we could have picked them.”
“But I picked these for you,” Benlos told her. “And these for the children … ” He held his arms out, and toys cascaded from his empty hands onto the lawn: whirligigs, and hoops, and dolls.
Mumsy looked up in alarm. “What have you done?” she demanded as the fairy children rushed forward with eager cries of anticipation to sort through the toys. “Where have you gotten that dragon’s tooth?”
“Ardforgel,” Benlos said. “And, no, this is not one of the ones in contention.”
“You have more?” Mumsy asked in horror. “And things haven’t been settled? You’re still in trouble with the Council?”
“Not to worry, not to worry,” Benlos assured her. “Parf and Gabby did an excellent job of defending me.”
“So it is settled?” Mumsy asked, not sounding convinced.
“Well … ”
Mumsy turned to Parf and Gabriella. “Can I get a straight answer from either of you?”
Since Parf was sulking, Gabriella answered, “The Council needs more time to decide, but it’s looking—”
“Fabulous!” Benlos interjected.
“Hopeful,” Gabriella countered.
Parf snorted.
Benlos once more touched the dragon’s tooth locket, and Mumsy’s bedraggled dress—originally an elm leaf, Gabriella suspected—suddenly became a sparkly lilac confection such as worn by the other fairy ladies Gabriella had seen.
“Oh my!” Mumsy said.
Several of the children looked up from the new toys. “Mumsy, you’re beautiful!”
“Thank you,” Mumsy said. “But, Benlos, this is too extravagant. Where am I ever going to wear this? Into the woods to take care of the animals?”
“No,” Benlos said, taking her into his arms, “to dance with me under the moonlight.”
Music came out of nowhere, reminiscent of handbells, soft and slow and beautiful.
It being only afternoon, there was no moonlight; but Benlos began to dance with Mumsy, and—after a moment of resistance—she gave in.
Gabriella felt a tingly sensation on her skin, and she realized Benlos had given all the rest of them, including her, new clothes. Hers were not exactly what a princess would wear—being more gauzy milkmaid-ish—but it was better than the nightdress she’d been wearing for two days now. Parf, too, had a new set of clothes, though that did nothing to soften the sourness of his expression.
The fairy children, in honor of their new clothing, began to chase one another around the yard.
“This is ridiculous,” Parf grumbled.
“Mmmm,” Mumsy said, her eyes closed, her cheek against Benlos’s chest. Her feet had left the ground, supported by her fluttering wings and her husband’s embrace.
Parf continued to complain. “You’ve got a brand-new powerful dragon’s tooth, and you’re using it on frivolous things. Has it ever occurred to you to save your wishes for some other day?”
“Today I have the tooth,” Benlos said. “Who knows what some other day might bring?”
Behind the expanse of lawn where he and Mumsy danced, the house shimmered and grew larger, brighter. There was a porch now, and a fine table, laden with bowls and platters of food.
Gabriella asked, “Speaking of other days, shouldn’t we be doing something to prepare for tomorrow?”
“What … specifically?” Benlos asked dreamily, swaying to the music with Mumsy in his arms. He also had begun to hover just above the ground.
“I don’t know.” She was the princess, but he was supposed to be the adult. Exasperated, Gabriella said, “Investigating … looking for witnesses … preparing statements … ”
When his father didn’t answer, Parf said, “You always do this. You’re gone forever, then you breeze back in for a little bit, then you’re gone again. Why do you keep leaving? What are you looking for? What’s more important than us?”
“Nothing’s more important than you.” Benlos extracted his hand from Mumsy’s long enough to pull a book out from under his shirt.
So much for patting himself down during the Council hearing, to prove he didn’t have Ardforgel’s dragons’ teeth hidden on his person.
Parf’s look was contemptuous. “That’s human stuff.” Parf used the same tone one would to say, That’s a BIG pile some horse left behind. “What’s that good for?”
“There’s stories inside,” Benlos said.
Parf wouldn’t take the book, so Gabriella did, and Benlos resumed dancing.
Interested despite himself, Parf put his ear to t
he cover. “I don’t hear no stories.”
Gabriella opened the book to show Parf the words and the beautiful pictures.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She explained, “The words are written down so people can remember the stories.”
Parf snorted. “The stories can’t be much good if writing down is the only way people can remember them.”
Gabriella sighed. “You don’t understand.”
Parf gave her a scornful look. “That’s what I just said.” To his father, he repeated, “This is human stuff. Fit for humans, maybe, like Princess Gabby.” He turned away from all of them and stomped into the house.
“I like stories,” Benlos said, soft and disappointed to Parf’s retreating back. Then he looked at Gabriella and mused, “Gabby is rather a different name for a princess.”
Gabriella nodded in agreement. “My name is really Gabriella.” She gave a proper curtsey, despite the milkmaid outfit. “Gabby sounds more like a misbehaving dog. Or an eighty-seven-year-old woman who sits in the town square and gossips all day.”
“No,” Benlos said. “That wasn’t what I was thinking. I was thinking it was nice. A pet name. For a person, not a pet. A term of endearment.”
“But nobody calls me that except for Parf,” Gabriella said.
“Ah!” Benlos said, and after that he gave himself over to dancing with Mumsy.
The rescue party ran into a pair of men who were also searching for the lost princess. They were but a short distance from the castle now, evidenced by the fact that the trees were getting more spread apart, and the castle’s spires could occasionally be glimpsed above the branches.
“Yay!” these new men said.
“You’ve found the princess!”
“Well met, Princess.”
Then they turned their attention to those guards who were carrying the sling fashioned from Gabriella’s cloaks, and the injured Fred within it. “Here, let us help with that.”
But the three men who had carried Fred so far refused to give him up now. “No. I’ve got it,” one of them said.
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