Good Curses Evil

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Good Curses Evil Page 8

by Stephanie S. Sanders


  “I’m afraid not. The time draws near when our presence is needed in the village.”

  I roused myself from sleep, wondering what kind of business the three fairies would have in Ieri. Could they be blessing a baby? Could I possibly get that lucky? I didn’t dare to hope, but secretly began to calculate what I would do if we found a baby there.

  Soon, Jez, Cappy, and I were clothed once more and following the Zâne through the forest. It was hard to tell how much time had gone by; aside from the glow of the Zâne, the forest was as black as Master Dreadthorn’s onyx desk. Thinking of the desk made me think of the crystal ball. Thinking of the ball made me think of Chad, and thinking of Chad made me worry. What if he was the one who’d sent the sprites after us? Or maybe the Zâne were under his command. Maybe they were leading us to Muma Padurii’s gingerbread house.

  But I had nothing to fear. In less than thirty minutes, we entered a clearing that turned out to be the road. Overhead, shredded clouds ghosted across the moon.

  It was nearing two o’clock in the morning when I noticed another light.

  “Do you see that?” Jez asked. “I think it’s the village.”

  It started as only a mild glow far ahead of us. Then I realized the trees were getting smaller and fewer. We were coming out of the Forgotten Forest.

  “Finally,” I said, relieved that the forest—and its numerous deathtraps—would soon be left behind.

  We emerged completely from the shadows of the trees and into open land just as a light rain began. The hill we were standing on sloped gently downward, into a valley. The village of Ieri was just below us at the foot of the hill twinkling with firelight.

  I turned around to see the Forgotten Forest looming behind us. For a moment, I was sure I saw a small shadow move in the trees. Could Chad have sent someone—or something—to spy on me? No, I was being paranoid; it was probably just an owl or something.

  “Our magic will not last long outside of the forest,” the white rose lady said. “We can only stay in the village as long as darkness lasts.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “We can take it from here.”

  “Oh?” she asked. “And what are your plans for Cappy? He will surely be shunned by the villagers. I fear for your safety. Perhaps he should remain in the forest?”

  “No!” I said, a little more severely than I meant. “I mean, we’ve grown … uh … fond of Cappy—right, Jez?” I jabbed Jezebel with my elbow.

  “Huh? Oh! Yes, very fond of him and … uh … he doesn’t have any friends or family in the forest anyway,” Jez said. I had no idea if this was true, but Cappy didn’t argue. He just smiled his big, dumb smile.

  “And we have a friend we’re meeting in the village square,” I added.

  “Then perhaps we can accompany you until the time for our departure arrives?” the white rose fairy said.

  I couldn’t think of a good argument. I especially didn’t want to insult the Zâne’s hospitality after all the help they’d given us. But what would happen when they saw we were meeting Wolf in the village? Surely they’d know we were villains, and then what?

  We didn’t have a choice. The Zâne were already leading the way down the rain-soaked hill into the village. Jez, Cappy, and I followed behind them.

  When we neared the town, we could see it had an enormous wall built all around it. The gates had been shut for the night, and beyond the gate we could hear the sound of guards playing a dice game.

  “Now what?” Jez asked as we stood shivering in the wet cold. “That wall must be thirty feet high!”

  Jez and I exchanged glances, and I knew what she was thinking. If the fairies had just stayed behind in the forest, Jez could transform into a bat and fly over, unlocking the gate from within. But as it turned out, she didn’t have to.

  “I think we can manage,” the poppy fairy said.

  She flew over the gate toward the guardhouse and disappeared. In a matter of minutes, she returned announcing the coast was clear. We pushed through the now unlocked gate and found the guards sleeping soundly in the guardhouse with their arms crossed over their chests and big smiles on their faces.

  We made our way to the village square without any trouble. It seemed the entire village was asleep, and anyone who did happen to be up late suddenly got very sleepy as we approached, and they rushed into their houses, closing their doors and turning off their lights.

  The village square was lit all around by torches. They had burned low in the rain but still gave off a faint glow. In the middle of the square was a well—the main water supply for the village. I knew in the morning it would be crowded with townspeople, but for now the place was deserted. I expected to find Wolf sitting there, waiting for us, but he wasn’t.

  I remembered the Zâne had said Cappy might not be welcomed in the village because of what he was. I thought maybe Wolf had had the same idea. Perhaps he had been hiding nearby waiting for us to show up. We made our way to the well and waited. And waited. And waited. No Wolf. Finally, the Zâne grew restless.

  “Perhaps your friend mistook the time?” the daisy lady said.

  “Maybe,” I answered, exchanging a look with Jezebel.

  “I’m afraid we can’t wait with you much longer,” said the white rose lady. “We have urgent business, and I sense the time is near at hand.”

  “Um, if you don’t mind my asking … what exactly is your business here in town tonight?” Jez asked. It was the question I had wanted to ask but was too chicken … I mean, too cautious to ask myself.

  “You will soon see. Look! Someone approaches!” the poppy lady said, pointing to a dark alley on the opposite side of the square.

  “Come with us. Quickly!” said the white rose lady.

  We followed the Zâne into the shadowy overhang of a tailor’s shop and watched as a figure emerged from the alley. At first, I thought it might be Wolf, but I quickly ruled that out. The figure was too slender beneath the hooded cloak. A woman, then. She clutched tightly to something as she flitted like a wraith from shadow to shadow.

  “What’s she doing?” Jezebel whispered.

  “Watch and see,” the daisy fairy said sadly.

  The woman dashed into the open space of the town square and stopped at the well. She lifted her hood to reveal a very young, lovely face, although it was twisted with worry. Then she uncovered the bundle she’d been holding so tightly. From our position across the square, it was impossible to see what she had uncovered. And yet, somehow, I knew. The gentle way she pulled the blanket. The soft kiss as she dusted its face with her cheek. It was a baby.

  Jez and I both exchanged excited looks.

  Jackpot! I mouthed to Jez, making sure the fairies weren’t watching us.

  The woman bent over the well and with mounting horror I thought she would drop the baby into the deep water. And I couldn’t care less about the baby’s safety. That’s just cracked! I was only worried about losing a chance to steal the kid—I was pretty sure it needed to be a live one.

  But I had nothing to fear. The woman laid the baby gently on the rain-soaked grass near the well. She tucked a note carefully into the folds of the blanket. Then, with one final glance behind her, she pulled the cloak hood over her head and melted into the shadows.

  In a matter of moments, we had all crossed the square to where the sleeping baby lay. Even in the dark, I could see tufts of bright red curls peeking out from under the blanket’s frayed edge.

  Now I just had to figure out how to convince the Zâne to let me have the stinky little thing. My planning was interrupted by an outburst from Jez.

  “Why did she do that?” she said. I was shocked at the accusation in her voice. “How could anybody do that!”

  “Shh. Be still, child,” the white rose lady said. “It will be for the best. You’ll see.”

  Jezebel plucked the note from the blanket, being careful not to wake the sleeping infant.

  “What’s it say?” I asked as we stood in the rain, which was fading into a misty d
rizzle.

  “It says she was a poor girl who could not afford to take care of her precious baby. It says ‘Please love her as I always will.’ ”

  Jez wiped quickly at her eyes and sniffled. I’d never thought of the countess as the kind of girl to get all choked up over an abandoned baby. She noticed me watching her.

  “What? I’m probably just getting a dumb cold from all this rain,” she said.

  However, Jez’s reaction was not the biggest surprise. That award went to Cappy. One look at the little pink bundle and he was hooked.

  “Oooooh,” he said, grabbing for the baby with his big, clumsy claws. I reached out to stop him, but the Zâne held me back.

  “Just a moment,” the white rose lady said, smiling affectionately at Cappy and the baby. It seemed all the Zâne had changed their minds about him. You might even say they’d grown fond of him.

  Cappy scooped the bundled baby into his massive ape-arms with a surprising gentleness I would not have thought possible from the big oaf—especially after he’d pulverized that moth. He cradled the baby close to his chest as if he’d done it a thousand times before.

  “Hold her close, Cappy, while we bless her,” the white rose lady said.

  Then the Zâne gathered around the baby’s head, floating in a slow, revolving circle as they extended their hands over her—the white rose lady holding her magic wand. They whispered in a language I had never heard, and yet it sounded familiar. It was the sound of wind in the trees and clear, cool streams bubbling over rocks. It was the sound of the moon and the stars and cat-a-bats! Those girly fairy spells were making me all crazy and mushy. Thankfully, they stopped singing before I ended up in a cape fighting for justice and honor and junk like that.

  Each of the Zâne touched the baby’s soft forehead with their tiny hands. Then it was over.

  “That’s it?” I asked. “I mean … what now?”

  “That is for you to decide, Rune,” the white rose lady said. “This baby’s fate is tied up with yours now. In time, you will see her gifts. She is a very special baby.”

  “Wait … you mean, we’re supposed to take it, uh, her with us?” I asked. This baby stealing was a piece of cake!

  “That is also for you to decide. However, even if you were to leave her here by this well, it is our belief that she would somehow find a way to reach you. As I said, your fates are intertwined now.”

  “Pretty baby. Pretty baby sleepy,” Cappy whispered as he rocked the baby tenderly.

  “And now, dawn is approaching. The moon sets. We must be away,” the poppy lady said. I couldn’t see any hint of morning light, but I wasn’t going to argue.

  “Oh, uh, thanks for all your help,” I said. “We’ll take, uh, good care of it … I mean her.”

  Then the Zâne were gone in a flash of light, and we were alone in the middle of the town with a baby and no Wolf.

  “Score!” I shouted. “That was easy!”

  At that moment, the baby woke up and started to cry.

  “What now?” Jezebel asked, wrinkling her nose. It seemed her previous concern did not extend to crying babies.

  “Ummm …,” I said. “We need a goat.”

  “Are you mental?” Jez started counting on her fingers. “Henchman, baby, princess, kingdom. I don’t remember ‘goat’ anywhere in the Plot, Rune.”

  “Milk, Countess Know-It-All. The quickest way to shut a kid up is to feed it.”

  After a hasty search, we found a goat at the other end of town, tethered to a fencepost. We untied it and led it a few feet down the road when I thought better of it and went back to leave one of my gold coins on the fencepost.

  “What are you doing?” Jez asked.

  “I can’t have the whole town chasing us with pitchforks and torches looking for the village goat, now, can I?”

  Jez just rolled her eyes.

  We decided that we couldn’t wait for Wolf. We had to keep moving. With dawn on the horizon, the town of Ieri would soon be awake and wondering what a dog-headed monster was doing with a redheaded baby and what a couple of villains were doing with a pilfered goat. So we crossed over the border into the kingdom of Kaloya.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  On the Road Again

  Are there always this many patrols?” Jez asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered.

  We’d slept most of the day in a grove of trees about thirty yards from the road, waking in a late, cloudy afternoon. From the shadows of our hiding spot, we watched as yet another patrol of soldiers went by. The roads were crawling with them. We were forced to keep to the trees and fields, so we wouldn’t be questioned. Jez and I might have been able to explain why we were traveling with a baby and no guardians, but there was no way we could explain Cappy.

  “I wish we had some means of knowing what was going on,” Jez said.

  “Oh, duh!” I answered. “We do!” I reached into my pack and found my dad’s crystal ball.

  I rubbed my hands over the smooth, glassy surface until the ball started to glow. In it I saw a city. Kaloya was in turmoil over a recent uprising at the palace. Soldiers were being dispatched to patrol all major roads leading in and out of the capital.

  “We are so going to overthrow this kingdom,” I said.

  “I don’t know, Rune. There are a lot of soldiers around. This might be harder than you think.”

  “C’mon, Jez. Our luck is improving. The crystal ball is working for us. And we’ve got our henchman and our baby, don’t we?”

  We glanced at Cappy, who was happily tickling our stolen baby.

  “What about the princess? Why don’t you see if the crystal can show us where to find one?”

  “Good idea.”

  I ran my hand across the crystal’s surface once more, but it remained dark. For ten minutes I shook it and squeezed it until finally giving up.

  “What were you saying about our luck improving?” Jez asked.

  “I don’t need it to tell me anyway,” I said. “Princesses are always in castles.”

  “Right,” Jez said. “And when they don’t just let you in the front door, they always have mile-long blond hair, which they toss out the window for you to climb. Have you given any serious thought as to how you’ll kidnap a princess?”

  “Well,” I said, rubbing my chin thoughtfully, “first I’ll feed her a poison apple, then I’ll stab her with a spinning wheel spindle, and if those don’t work I’ll bop her over the head with a glass slipper.”

  This earned me another eye roll from Jez.

  As the afternoon faded, we traveled on, darting between groves of trees, always keeping in sight of the road but out of sight of would-be travelers. Several times we saw soldiers marching or riding horseback. I worried the baby’s constant crying would give us away, but Cappy always seemed to know what the baby needed. Not only could he rock it and feed it, he also changed its diaper—swapping it out with a piece of cloth torn from one of our blankets. Then, whenever we came upon a stream or pond, he would wash out the old diaper and dry it, ready to swap it out again.

  “Some evil henchman I found,” I said, frowning at Cappy as he washed another diaper in the pond where we had stopped to eat. Nearby, the goat munched contentedly at a patch of grass.

  “He’s not so bad,” Jez said. “Besides, you said yourself a good henchman should possess a quality that the villain lacked.”

  “Oh, and what’s that? Pure stupidity?” I asked.

  “How about parental instincts, Rune? Look at him! He’s a natural nursemaid.”

  At that moment, Cappy had filled one of our spare waterskins with goat’s milk and was feeding the baby while crooning a lullaby that sounded something like, “Rocky-bye baby in Cappy’s arms. Cappy loves baby, la, la, la, la.” He wasn’t too good with the rhyming.

  Cappy stood up to refill the waterskin, when he tripped over a rock and went sprawling face-first toward the ground. Amazingly, he managed to both hold on to the baby as he fell and save it from being squished under his
stony body. The waterskin, however, wasn’t so lucky.

  “Ouch,” Cappy said. Only it sounded like oumnch because his face was buried in the grass. He slowly raised his body to reveal the poor, tattered waterskin.

  “Oh, no!” Cappy said, picking up the remains of the baby’s makeshift bottle and holding it out for all to see. Then he started to cry. It was the flutterby all over again.

  I tried to tell him not to worry. We had another waterskin and could use it if we had to—although the idea of sharing drool with Cappy and a baby was beyond gross to me. My tongue felt fuzzy just thinking about it.

  Cappy continued to cry despite my reassurances. Then something remarkable happened. The waterskin rose up from Cappy’s hands into the air, floating just above the baby’s head. The baby stretched out its pudgy fingers toward the makeshift bottle, but it just continued to float.

  “What’s happening?” Jez asked.

  Cappy even stopped crying, mesmerized by the floating bottle. Then the gaping tear in the waterskin began to mend. It was like watching a zipper zip itself up. In a matter of moments, the skin was repaired, good as new, and floated back into Cappy’s hands.

  “Okay, who did that?” I asked, looking accusingly at Jezebel.

  “It wasn’t me!” she said.

  “Cappy?” I asked in wonder.

  “Cappy no do magic,” he answered. He was already refilling the waterskin with milk from the goat.

  “Goat?” I asked. Hey, I’d seen animals do stranger things. The goat only bleated and continued to munch its patch of grass.

  Then the baby giggled, actually giggled at me. It blinked and wiggled its little hands, grabbing one of its feet and sucking on its toes with a big grin on its chubby pink face.

  “No way,” I said.

  “The baby?” Jez asked. “Maybe she’s magical. She could be a witch halfsie or something.”

  “The Zâne did say it was special,” I said, staring at the baby with keen interest. A magical baby could come in very handy … if only we could figure out how to control its magic.

  “You, baby,” I said. “Make that goat fly.” I didn’t have a particular interest in flying goats; really I just wanted to see another demonstration of the baby’s power. Nothing happened.

 

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