The Fairy's Return and Other Princess Tales

by Gail Carson Levine

  What could she try?

  Bombina began all her spells by standing on her left foot, so Parsley tried to do the same. But balancing on one foot was hard. Her shape was all wrong for it. She struggled for twenty minutes before she finally managed it and stood, wobbling a little for ten whole seconds. Then she started to go over, and she had to hop three times, while her head nodded and wagged, before she got steady again.

  A silver lady’s comb appeared in the air before her and fell into the moss at her feet.

  She’d done it! Accidentally, but she’d done it. Too bad she had no hair.

  She started to topple again. She frowned and hopped back two steps, stumbled, and got back onto her left foot.

  A crock of brown boot polish landed next to the comb.

  Parsley meant to laugh, but it came out as a croak, her first croak. It was a warm and melodious sound. She liked it and croaked again. She extended her four legs and stood tall and croaked again. The pitch was a trifle lower that way. She sat back to try to raise the pitch, but before she could open her mouth again, she found herself rising into the air, eighteen inches at least. She flew across the stream and crash-landed on the opposite bank.

  She lay still. Gadzooks! Making magic was fun!

  On the first morning of the contest, Tansy passed through the hamlets of Harglepool, Flambow-under-Gree, Lower Vudwich, and Craugh-over Pughtughlouch. In the afternoon he passed through Snug Podcoomb, Woolly Podcoomb, Podcoomb-upon-Hare, Upper Squeak, Lower Squeak, Popping Squeak, and Swinnout-of-Crubble.

  “. . .AND CRASH-LANDED ON THE OPPOSITE BANK.”

  Wherever he went, Tansy asked Biddlers how they thought Biddle should be ruled, and he looked at linen. Each hamlet had its own master weaver, but not one of them could weave linen fine enough to squeeze through a bracelet, let alone a ring. Tansy worried that he would have found better cloth if he’d taken the Royal Road with his brothers.

  Meanwhile, Randolph and Rudolph passed through towns with important-sounding short names like Ooth, Looth, Quibly, Eels, Hork, and Moowich. In Ooth the twins stopped at the first master weaver’s shop they saw. The weaver pulled down his finest bolts of linen to show them.

  “Hmm,” Randolph said, “that one might do.” He picked up a corner of cloth.

  “Yes, it might.” Rudolph picked up the other corner and glared at his brother.

  “I saw it first.” Randolph pulled the linen away from Rudolph.

  “No, you didn’t.” Rudolph grabbed his corner again and yanked.

  The linen tore down the middle.

  “What have you done?” the weaver yelled. He wouldn’t let the twins leave his store until one of them bought the ruined fabric, even though it didn’t come close to fitting through a pinky ring. Randolph wound up paying, since he had touched the cloth first. His footman loaded it into his carriage.

  There were fourteen master weavers in Ooth, and by the time the twins’ carriages rolled out of town, seven bolts of torn linen were in each carriage. And not one square foot of cloth was fine enough to go through a pinky ring.

  Parsley spent the afternoon learning to make magic. She made mistakes at first and created a big pile of objects that a toad didn’t need, like a frying pan, a bow and arrows, and a bass fiddle.

  But finally, she figured out how to make blue and pink and yellow balloons appear over the stream. They were a lovely sight, dozens of them, drifting over the water in friendly flocks.

  By sundown she’d learned how to make almost anything she wanted, including a sprig of parsley, which had tasted awful. She’d taught herself how to make things vanish too. It was simple. All she had to do was hiccup twice, just as Bombina used to. She’d also perfected her flying, and even more important, she’d discovered how to land. She’d learned to knock her knees into her belly in order to see or hear anywhere in Biddle. She looked at Biddle Castle immediately, but she couldn’t find Tansy or his horrible brothers there.

  There was one bit of magic she couldn’t perform, though. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t turn herself back into a human.

  Nine

  Bombina peeked at Parsley while Parsley was making magic. She hadn’t known that her toads could do that. Hah! she thought proudly. I bet Parsley is the only one smart enough to figure it out.

  At dusk Princess Alyssatissaprincissa came by with her goats. “Oh, Sir Toad,” she called, “Your Royal Highness, where are you?”

  Uh-oh! Parsley decided to fly out of danger. She stood tall and croaked. But before she could finish the spell, Princess Alyssatissaprincissa picked her up.

  “I apologize, Your Majesty. I didn’t know the right way before. Now I’ll turn you back into a prince in no time.” She hurled Parsley into the side of the bridge.

  Oof! Parsley landed in a patch of dirt. Yow! She wondered if her back was broken. She lay still and tried not to cry.

  Princess Alyssatissaprincissa waded into the stream. Just a toad, she thought, just a stupid toad.

  After Princess Alyssatissaprincissa had gone, Parsley sat up carefully. Her back wasn’t broken, but she was sore all over. For the first time she understood why Bombina turned people into toads.

  Days passed. Randolph and Rudolph fought over linen in twenty towns. They hired extra carriages to carry all the cloth they had to buy. But none of it would pass through a pinky ring.

  Tansy had no better luck. In Woolly Podcoomb he bought the best bolt of linen he saw, hoping it was better than anything his brothers had found.

  The sixth day of the contest dawned sunny and hot. Tansy purchased an apple in the hamlet of Whither Prockington and looked at linen. In Thither Prockington he looked at more linen. He was surprised, two miles farther along, to come upon Hither Prockington, which wasn’t on any of the maps in the Royal Library. But Hither Prockington didn’t have any fine linen either.

  He rode on. After an hour he came to a stream.

  Parsley saw the horse and rider coming and hopped under the bridge. Tansy let Bhogs drink and slipped off her back to stretch his legs.

  “It’s you!” Parsley cried—and discovered that she could speak.

  Tansy thought he’d heard a voice, but he didn’t see anyone.

  Parsley hopped toward him. “Prince Tansy! Your Highness!” She wished she could hop faster. He was only a few yards away, but that was a fair distance now. She thought of flying, but she didn’t want to startle him more than he was about to be startled.

  Tansy was sure a maiden was calling him. Was she hiding under the bridge? He started toward it.

  “Pray watch your feet.”

  He stood still.

  “Look down, Your Highness.”

  A chartreuse Biddlebum Toad blinked up at him. A talking toad! Was he bewitched?

  “I’m so glad to see you.” Parsley tried to curtsy and almost toppled. “Especially without your wicked brothers.”

  Tansy gasped and fell back a step.

  “They’re lying snitching stinkers.”

  It’s the heat, Tansy thought. I’m hearing things. He rushed to the stream and dunked his head. The cold water felt good.

  Parsley hopped down to the stream.

  Tansy stood up. He felt his mind clear. He wouldn’t hear any talking animals now.

  “In truth, I hate your brothers.”

  The toad again! He was bewitched.

  “In truth, I admire you. I admire you so.”

  There she was, chartreuse and warty and smiling at him. Such a nice smile. Something in his heart fluttered.

  Bombina saw Tansy with Parsley. It was that prince again! She began to feel jealous, but she stopped herself. She had sworn not to, and she’d keep her oaths from now on.

  “THERE SHE WAS, CHARTREUSE AND WARTY AND SMILING AT HIM.”

  Maybe the prince would be good for something. After all, her Parsley’s smile was still the sweetest most adorable sight there was. Maybe . . .

  Tansy sat on the riverbank and moaned. “I’m bewitched.”

  “No, you�
��re not.” Parsley opened her mouth to tell him about her transformation, but the words wouldn’t come. She croaked to clear her throat and tried again, but she still couldn’t. She stood on her left leg, spun around, and hopped twice, hoping to get some magic going, but nothing happened.

  He watched her. He’d never seen a toad spin before.

  She gave up. “You’re not bewitched, Your Highness. I’m a talking toad.” Maybe this would convince him. “If you were bewitched, you’d hear your horse speak too, wouldn’t you?”

  Perhaps she was right. He went to Bhogs, who was grazing near the weeping willow. “Bhogs, speak to me. Am I bewitched?”

  Bhogs switched her tail and went on grazing, which meant either she couldn’t speak or she didn’t have anything to say. Either way, he could still be bewitched.

  “If you were bewitched, the fish would be talking to you, and so would the dragonflies and the caterpillars and the”—Parsley’s tongue snaked out. She snagged a gnat and swallowed it—“and the gnats and the . . .”

  Maybe he was only a little bewitched, just enough to understand Toad.

  Parsley decided to change the subject. “What brings you here, Prince Tansy?”

  He didn’t want to be rude and not answer, even if he was only imagining that the toad was speaking. If there really was a toad.

  He sat again. “My father has set a contest for my brothers and me.” He told her about the test and the prize. “The linen I bought isn’t nearly good enough.”

  “I can help you!” Oh, it was wonderful to be a magical creature! “I can give you linen fine enough to go through the eye of a needle.”

  “If only you really could.” He sighed.

  Parsley felt irritated. How could she prove herself? She couldn’t. He wouldn’t believe the linen she made was real, no matter what. But maybe he’d believe it when his father gave him that golden medallion.

  She had an idea. “Close your eyes, Your Highness.”

  Tansy closed his eyes, certain that when he opened them, he’d see a length of perfect linen. Perfect, but imaginary.

  Parsley balanced on her left foot, feeling nervous. She had to get this just right. She tapped her nose with the fourth and last finger or toe of her right hand or front foot. Then she bent over and tapped her chin on the ground. Next she croaked at the highest pitch she could manage. And it worked.

  “You can open your eyes.”

  Tansy did, and there, on the ground near his knee, was about three inches of coarse dirty linen.

  Ten

  Parsley tried not to laugh at Tansy’s astonished face. “Put the linen in your saddlebag, Your Highness, and be sure it doesn’t fall out.”

  “Thank you.” Feeling silly, Tansy put the useless cloth on top of the bolt he’d purchased. “I must be going.” He mounted Bhogs and galloped off without looking back.

  “Farewell, dear Prince Tansy.”

  He shuddered and rode on. When he reached Biddle Castle, servants were unloading bolt after bolt of fabric from Randolph’s and Rudolph’s carriages. He took his saddlebag and followed the servants to the throne room.

  King Humphrey IV was surrounded by a sea of cloth. He didn’t know why the lads had carried so much home and why all of it was torn, and why none of it was nice enough to wipe his nose on.

  “I have better linen somewhere, Father,” Randolph said desperately. “I don’t know where it’s gotten to.”

  “I have better linen too,” Rudolph said. “I don’t know where mine has gotten to.”

  As soon as he saw the torn cloth, Tansy knew that his brothers had fought over every bolt. But most of it still looked better than the stuff he had.

  King Humphrey IV said, “You lads are disappointing duffers.”

  “Father?” Tansy said. “I have linen too.” He knelt before the throne and opened his saddlebag.

  And the softest, creamiest linen he’d ever seen billowed out.

  What? Tansy thought. Where’s the scrap the toad gave me? Am I imagining this cloth? His fingers trembled as he drew it out.

  “Let us see.” Frowning, King Humphrey IV reached for the cloth. He didn’t want Tansy to win, but the fabric was the finest he had ever touched. “Superb, son. Sublime.”

  There had been a toad! A magical talking toad.

  “It will pass through the eye of a needle, Sire,” Tansy said. He’d won! He was going to be king. King of Biddle!

  “There’s my cloth,” Randolph said, “the cloth that I was searching for.”

  “There’s my cloth,” Rudolph said.

  Together they said, “Tansy stole it.”

  Parsley saw and heard it all, and she hopped up and down in fury. But she dared not fly to Tansy’s aid. No one would believe a toad, and Randolph or Rudolph would step on her.

  “I didn’t steal anything!” Tansy said. “I wouldn’t.”

  King Humphrey IV was confused. Tansy probably had filched the fabric. But from which brother? The king looked back and forth from one twin to the other until he was dizzy, but he couldn’t tell.

  “We shall have another contest.” King Humphrey IV paced, threading his way between the mountains of material. Hmm . . . What should it be? he wondered. Hmm . . .

  He had it! His grandfather, King Humphrey III, had failed at this quest and had brought home that frightful flea instead.

  “Whoever brings us a dog small enough to fit in a walnut shell shall win the throne.” There.

  Tansy kept protesting that he’d already won until King Humphrey IV said that if he didn’t shut up, he wouldn’t be allowed to take part in the new contest.

  He did shut up, and he set out again with his brothers the next morning. Even though he was angry at his father and the twins, he was glad to be going back to the toad. He wanted to thank her and to apologize for not believing in her. And, of course, he wanted to ask for her help again, to beg for it, if he had to.

  At the fork in the road outside Snettering-on-Snoakes, Randolph’s carriage and Rudolph’s carriage followed Bhogs onto the Biddle Byway.

  They mustn’t follow me! Tansy thought. One of them might step on the toad and squash her. Or they’d fight over the little dog and hurt it, or one of them would grab it and race home.

  Tansy and the twins reached Harglepool. Tansy was trying to figure out how to slip away when he saw puppies playing outside a rickety shed. He made out the shapes of more puppies inside, and he saw a sign—Best Barkers in Biddle. Ten pence per puppy.

  Some of the pups were tiny. Maybe Randolph and Rudolph could find their dogs here and stop following him.

  He tied Bhogs up outside the shed. The carriages rumbled to a stop. Tansy began to go into the shed, but Randolph and then Rudolph pushed past him. He went in behind them.

  A woman was sitting on a stool and combing a small dog in her lap.

  Randolph said, “Harrumph—”

  Rudolph said, “Harrumph, my fine woman—”

  Randolph said, “Show me your smallest dog.”

  Rudolph said, “Show me your smallest dog.” He glared at Randolph and stamped his foot. The whole shed shook.

  Randolph glared at Rudolph.

  Tansy tiptoed out of the shed.

  Eleven

  Tansy galloped along the Biddle Byway and finally reached Parsley’s stream. He tied Bhogs to the willow and walked slowly and carefully toward the bridge. “Oh, Mistress Toad,” he called.

  When he came close, Parsley said, “Here I am, Your Highness.”

  Tansy knelt down. “I apologize for not believing in you. Thank you for helping me, Mistress Toad.”

  “My name is Parsley, Highness. You’re welcome, but I didn’t help as much as I’d hoped. You’ve been most unfairly treated.”

  “You know!”

  “Certainly. You won the contest, and you have to win the next one too. For Biddle’s sake.” She beamed up at him. “You’d be our best king ever.”

  That ravishing smile! His heart fluttered again. He blushed and mumbled, “I’d try
to be, Parsley.”

  “You would be. If you finally win—”

  “I don’t think I’ll win, unless you help me again. I need—”

  “A dog small enough to fit in a walnut.” Parsley nodded. “I’ll be happy to help.”

  She had him close his eyes while she made the most charming teensy-weensy dog—curly brown fur with a black patch on its back. Then she hid it.

  “Open your eyes.”

  Tansy saw a coconut in the tall grass.

  “Crack it carefully when you get home. The dog’s name is Tefaw, which stands for Tiny Enough for a Walnut.”

  Tansy placed the coconut in his saddle-bag and thanked Parsley at least a dozen times.

  She was embarrassed and changed the subject. “If you won and became king, what would you do?”

  Tansy sat down. She squatted next to his right hand and never took her eyes off his face.

  “I would build small Royal Glass Hills all over Biddle for children to slide down. I’d breed thousands of fireflies and release them for light on dark nights. And every year I’d give a Best Biddler Award in three categories: interesting dreams, knowledge of Biddle history, and acrobatics.”

  Parsley loved Tansy’s plans, and she had some ideas of her own, like letting subjects go on quests and putting their discoveries in the Royal Museum of Quest Souvenirs, or like having the Royal Army build chicken coops for people’s chickens during peacetime.

  Parsley and Tansy talked for hours. When the goatherd Princess Alyssatissaprincissa came by, Parsley made a big haystack and hid herself and Tansy inside it.

  Bombina watched them talk. Keep smiling, Parsley, she thought. Smile, my love.

  Tansy liked Parsley’s smile more and more, until he believed that toads were the most beautiful creatures in Biddle. And the smartest and the friendliest.

  For her part Parsley admired Tansy more and more. And when he said he’d make toads the Royal Animal and make people pay a fine for squashing them, her heart almost burst with love.

  Night came. Tansy stretched out under the bridge, and Parsley settled down a yard or two away, in case he rolled over in his sleep.