“Sisal might like some,” said Sasha.
Barza took the spoon and sniffled it, then put it in her mouth, then turned her head and spat on the ground.
“Disgusting slop,” said Barza. “Fit for dogs, and not even particularly good dogs.”
Papa made a nervous laugh. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you for your advice.”
Barza turned away from Papa without another word and said to Sasha, “Come.”
Sasha was filled with shame for her papa’s soup and for Barza’s rebuke. She waved to Papa quietly and followed Barza out of the market. Maybe these were their lives now—soup peddler and servant to the Gentry house. Maybe nothing would ever get better and everything would stay this bad forever.
CHAPTER 7
By the time she returned to the mansion with Barza, Sasha realized her life wouldn’t stay that bad forever. Because it got much, much worse.
“See this?” said Barza, waving at the entire kitchen, including a sink full of pots and pans, ovens splashed and stained with food, a messy pantry, and more dirty dishes than Sasha could count. “Clean it.”
“The dishes?” said Sasha.
“All of it. Floor to ceiling. Everything spotless.”
Sasha couldn’t even imagine how long it would take. But Barza didn’t seem to care, and Sasha didn’t have anywhere to go. She knew that if she refused, Sisal would just have to come down and “persuade” her, and she might punish Sasha with even worse chores. So she took the mop and bucket and got to work.
It was gross and grueling work. Sasha scrubbed all through dinner. She scrubbed as the sun set through the tiny window above the dishwashing station, and even after the full moon rose to the top. All the cooks were long gone. All the house was asleep.
Sasha scrubbed the last dish and arched her back to relieve the pain. She looked around the kitchens. Everything was shiny and clean. She thought, Barza can’t possibly complain this time.
Then she yawned. It was past midnight, and Sasha realized that no one had told her where she should sleep. Sasha wondered if Butta would be awake, or if she could find the servants’ quarters. Maybe there would be a bed for her, or a bench, or some corner of a quiet hallway where she could curl up and rest.
Sasha wandered out of the kitchens. The entire floor was empty. When she arrived at the staircase, she paused. The stairs leading back up to the house were dark, but a set of stairs leading down to a second basement glowed with a faint light from somewhere below. Could it be the servants’ rooms? Maybe they were all still awake.
Sasha decided to go down the stairs.
Her felt shoes didn’t make any noise on the stone steps as she went around and around and down and down.
Sasha started to worry that she had gone the wrong way when finally the stairs ended, letting her out into a long hallway. The light was coming from a door at the far end. Sasha didn’t know why, but she decided to stay quiet and tiptoe toward the light. The basement was as cold as a dungeon.
She couldn’t hear anything at first, but as she approached the light, she began to hear shuffling sounds, but no talking. That meant it was probably just one person. Suddenly, Sasha doubted that this was the servants’ rooms. She was too curious to turn back though.
She held her breath and slowly peeked around the corner, into the room. She nearly gasped when she saw Baron Vadim Gentry standing at a desk. The room had leather seats, a large desk, cabinets, and a weapons rack full of swords in every size and shape. This must be the baron’s secret office.
Sasha had always been a terrible spy because she was terrible at being quiet. But she had changed a lot in the last year, and so she calmed herself, slowly breathed in and out, and held still. From the pitch-black hallway, she watched as the baron put some papers into the oak strongbox he’d had at teatime. Then he picked up the box and walked to a framed portrait of Rose Gentry standing on her toes in a dancer’s pose, with one arm held above her head and the other holding the reins of a white horse so beautiful that it was probably a bloomhoof stallion.
As Sasha admired the painting, the baron took one corner of the frame and pulled it away from the wall. There was a secret cabinet behind the painting. And to Sasha’s amazement, she could see Papa’s vial—the cure to the persuasion potion—sitting on the bottom shelf beside a rolled-up parchment, which must have been the deed to the Juicy Gizzard.
Sasha couldn’t believe it. She stepped closer to get a better look. But the baron placed the box on the shelf, swung the painting back into place, and turned around too quickly. It caught Sasha by surprise. She jumped back out of the doorway.
“Who’s there?” said the baron.
Sasha froze in the dark hallway. She hoped the baron would go back to his work. But just in case, she began to tiptoe slowly back down the hall. It was good that she did.
The baron was a suspicious man. A few moments later, a lamp was thrust into the hallway, and the baron stuck his head out the door. “If you’re down here, you had better beware the dog.”
Sasha had already snuck out of the light’s reach and hid in another doorway. She didn’t want anything to do with the guard dog, Abrus. She moved as quickly and quietly as she could, and she didn’t breathe until she reached the stairs and rushed back up to the kitchens.
Sasha had nowhere to go or sleep.
She was exhausted from work, terrified of the baron and his dog, and worried for Papa, but she had something very important that gave her the smallest bit of hope—the location of the deed.
Sasha walked to a corner of the kitchen and crouched beside the warm oven, where she would be hidden and safe. “Well,” she thought to herself, “I guess this is my new room now.” She tried to make herself comfortable. Then she reached into her satchel, took out a pencil and her notebook, and began to write.
Dear Mama,
I am writing you from the Gentry mansion. Everything is so terrible. We miss you. Are you really in the middle of a war? I heard the Knights of Daytime are valorous, and each one is a storybook hero. Have you met Belfort the knight? Have you seen the Make Mad Order in person? What’s it like? Do they really walk backward? We lost the house, but you know that already. I work for the Gentrys now, and Papa is a soup peddler. There are rumors that the Willow Wood has a roving beast like before. A wild boar, people say, but I think it might be Otto. We had to set him loose when we lost the house. We could use a hero too, you know.
Love,
Sasha
P.S. How do you know Puck?
CHAPTER 8
The next morning, Sasha was jolted awake by a splash of water in her face. Chef Barza stood above her, holding a now-empty pitcher.
“Wake up,” said Barza.
Sasha rubbed her eyes.
“Now,” said Barza, as she turned and walked to the counter. Sasha tried to get up and realized that her entire body was sore from curling up beside the pots and pans on the hard kitchen floor. She winced.
As soon as Sasha stood up, Barza shoved a tray into her hands. It had Sisal’s breakfast arranged on it. “Here,” said Barza. The warm bread smelled so good that it made Sasha’s knees buckle. She thought perhaps Barza would be nicer if she remembered how good a job Sasha had done.
“Did you like the kitchen?” she asked, hoping to remind her.
“Of course I like the kitchen,” said Barza.
“I mean the cleanness.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I just thought—I mean—it was spotless this morning.”
“Yes,” said Barza, annoyed. “That’s what I told you to do—make it spotless.”
“And it is.”
“So then you’ve done what you were told. Do you need a parade for doing your job?”
“No,” said Sasha.
“Everyone here does what they’re told.”
“I know. I just—”
“That’s not something extra. You’re not special for doing your job.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Sasha. She wasn’t expe
cting a parade, only some acknowledgment. Or at least the same respect that Barza seemed to give her cooks.
Sasha took the tray and started to walk out. “Wait,” said Barza.
What now? thought Sasha. Would she scold her for holding the tray wrong?
“Take a roll on your way out.” Barza nodded at a basket filled with glistening golden-brown butter bread. “I make them for my crew every morning,” said Barza.
Sasha took a roll. It was still warm. She hadn’t eaten anything for a day and a half. She took a bite. It was soft and fluffy and salty and buttery and perfect. All the aching in Sasha’s bones seemed to disappear. It occurred to Sasha that Barza would have to wake up hours before her crew to make them breakfast. And that was so much extra work. She must have worked even harder to do it quietly as Sasha slept.
“Thank you,” said Sasha with a mouthful of bread. Barza gave her a short nod. Sasha stuffed the roll into her mouth and took off toward the stairs.
Sasha made it up to the tower bedroom and entered just as Sisal was waking up. “Ah! Servant girl, you’re on time this time.”
Sasha set the tray beside Sisal’s bed and started to walk out.
“Wait. What’s this?” said Sisal.
“Your breakfast,” said Sasha.
“No. Wrong. Water first. I mean, don’t you want to slap your forehead and say you’re a dum-dum bird?”
Sasha clenched her fists. She had to do it. She slapped her forehead and said, “I’m a dum-dum bird.”
“But do you know why you’re a dum-dum bird?” said Sisal.
“No,” said Sasha.
“Because I need to wash my face first. Don’t you want to get me water?”
“Yes, princess,” said Sasha.
“Quickly,” said Sisal.
Sasha rushed down the tower, got the water, then rushed back up. The whole time, she grumbled. But even though her future seemed like an endless loop of climbing up and down the tower steps, she wasn’t hopeless anymore. She knew the location of the deed. All she needed next was a plan.
But plans weren’t easy to come by. She needed just a few minutes to think.
Sasha was out of breath as she poured the water into the basin in the washroom. She entered the bedroom and said, “It’s ready.”
Sisal had already begun eating her breakfast. She hopped out of bed and pranced to the washroom. As she left, she said, “Wouldn’t you like to open the windows and dust everything and, I dunno, do servant things?”
Sasha reached into her satchel. She was tempted to throw the bottle of soup at Sisal. Instead, she grabbed a rag and began to draw back the curtains and dust the windowsills. At the last window, she heard a rustling sound. Sasha drew back the curtain.
“Ah!” Sasha jumped back in surprise. On the other side of the window, Puck was hanging upside down, looking in.
Puck laughed as Sasha composed herself and hurried to open the window latch. “What are you doing hanging from a window? It’s so good to see you! Did you contact Mama? Sisal will be back any second. You scared me!” All the thoughts were coming to her at once.
Puck was hanging like a monkey. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the height. He reached out and said, “Guh!”
It was a “come here” grunt.
Sasha was in such a panic about Sisal returning that she took his hand. He pulled her toward him. “Oh no,” she said.
“Gooby!”
Puck pulled, and Sasha was afraid that if she let go, he would fly backward and fall from the tower, so she climbed onto the sill. Then Puck helped her step onto the stone ledge outside. The wind was blowing softly. The morning sun was still gently warm. Puck had been hanging from the eaves above the window. He sat back up and guided Sasha up onto the roof of the tower.
Before she knew it, Sasha was sitting on the tallest peak of Gentry mansion, high in the air, above the Village, the King Sea, and the Willow Woods. The view was spectacular. She could see the Sparkstone Mountains glittering in the distance.
For a moment, it was magical.
And for the first time since losing her house, Sasha felt a restful calm.
“Puck,” she said, “I know you can understand me.”
“Guh,” said Puck.
“But you can’t quite talk.”
“Guh.”
“I always thought you were an ordinary forest baby, but just in case you’re actually magic, I wanted to say thanks for looking out for me. You’re my best friend.”
Even though Puck’s face was covered in dirt, Sasha could see a powerful blush. He looked down and smiled and then plowed into her for a hug. Sasha would have usually pulled away because she hated getting dirty, but she was already covered in sweat and grime. And she didn’t care anyway. She would rather be with a dirt fairy like Puck than a spotless princess like Sisal.
Puck buried his face into her side and made a purring sound. She thought she heard him say, “You’re welcome,” but she must have been mistaken.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” said Sasha.
She knew that Sisal would be back from the washroom any minute. Puck reached into his tattered shirt and pulled out another soiled and crumpled letter. “Guh, guh!”
Was it a new letter from Mama? But Sasha hadn’t even given hers to Puck yet. She unfolded the parchment and read:
Dear Sasha,
I heard the predicament from Prince Carvalio (who says you call him Puck. That’s funny. He must like you).
Sasha paused her reading to say, “Wait. You can talk?”
“Yuh huh, gooby,” said Puck, nudging her back to the letter.
Sasha let it go and kept reading:
I believe in you. You can get the deed back. I know it. I’ve sent three potions to help you form a plan. One is to create a distraction. One is to give you light in the darkness. And one is to make you invincible with superstrength—it tastes like cherries. I know you will use them well, my darling girl.
All my love,
Maxima Bebbin
Sasha was so relieved that she laughed aloud as she tucked the letter into her pocket. Mama had saved the day, especially with the superpower potion. She said, “Of all the odds and oddity, Mama did it. She saved us. Now, where are the potions?”
Puck rooted around in his shirt and pulled out two glass vials. One was labeled DISTRACTION, and the other ANTI-DARK. He handed them over.
“Great,” said Sasha, “but what about the superpower one?”
Puck suddenly became bashful.
“You didn’t,” said Sasha.
Puck let out a burp.
It smelled like cherries.
“How dare you,” said Sasha. “I take back everything I said. You’re a wicked monkey. You’re a wastrel. You’re disobedient and unreliable.”
Puck giggled and gave her a salute. “Tantu!” he said. He knew she wasn’t serious. Then he fell backward off the roof.
Sasha rushed to the edge in time to see him falling backward through the trees. At the last possible second, he twisted his body and landed on all fours like a squirrel.
Either the superpower potion had protected him, or Puck was some kind of mud-covered stray cat. Sasha didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Puck waved to her from below then scampered off. Sasha could see the guard dog, Abrus, barking and chasing after him, but Puck was too tricksy and quick. He scurried through the gardens and bounded over the wall as the dog gnashed at his heels.
Sasha took one last look at the valley. Even without the third potion, she had everything she needed for a plan. She took a deep breath and thought, By golly, this just might work.
When Sasha climbed down to the window ledge and back into the tower, Sisal was waiting with her arms crossed and a furious scowl. “Where have you been?”
Crumbsy bumsy, thought Sasha. This will never work.
CHAPTER 9
Sisal was not pleased.
Even though she assumed that Sasha was cleaning the roof because the persuasion potion had
worked too well, she wanted her servant girl available at all times. She punished Sasha by suggesting that she clean the entire tower, scrub three loads of laundry, complete all of Sisal’s schoolwork, and polish all her shoes.
It took all morning.
Sisal stayed in bed and read her favorite picture books the entire time. When the bells finally rang for family teatime, Sasha’s hands were blistered from all the scrubbing. “Come now, servant girl,” said Sisal. “I think you’d love to watch me eat rice pudding, wouldn’t you?”
“Sure,” said Sasha. She only had to survive until that night. Her plan was simple:
1. Wait until everyone was asleep, even the baron.
2. Sneak into the dungeon office.
3. Grab the deed from behind the painting.
4. Drink the antidote to the persuasion potion in front of Sisal so that she would think Sasha was free of the spell (even though there was never any spell).
5. Escape through the back door of the kitchens.
6. Give the rest of the antidote to Papa, so he would stop thinking he was under the spell.
7. Move back into the Juicy Gizzard and save Papa from soup peddling and write letters to Mama and be happy forever.
Simple.
But when Sasha took her place next to Barza along the wall, she got the worst possible news. The baron Vadim Gentry was pouring wax onto a folded letter. Then he placed his ring in the hot wax to create a seal. As he waited for the wax to cool, he waved Butta over. “Butta,” he said, “I want you to go to my office…”
Butta whispered something that Sasha couldn’t hear.
“No, the other one,” said the baron. “To the special shelf, and get the papers.”
Sasha stepped forward to hear better, but a heavy, familiar hand clamped on her shoulder. It was Barza, pulling her back to her position by the wall.
Sasha strained to hear, but all she caught was, “Put them on the first caravan to my safe in the Rozny bank. I want that deed locked away forever.”
Sasha and Puck and the Brew for Brainwash Page 4