The Warrior Princess of Pennyroyal Academy

by M. A. Larson

  She heard the same giggle now.

  “What do we do?” hissed Basil.

  In the next instant, the entire forest filled with laughter.

  “We run.”

  They tore down the hill, bounding through the brush. Evie glanced back. Basil was struggling to keep up, the chair and the stone hawk swinging wildly on his back. Then came Forbes, sword raised. Behind him were about thirty goblins.

  “Run!” screamed Evie. It was only the shortness of the goblins’ legs that kept them from overtaking the cadets as they barreled down the hillside through the darkness. Then, just ahead, Evie saw something that didn’t belong. It was a tin stovepipe. A moment later, she saw the roof it was coming out of, then the rest of the small cottage. It had been built into the side of the valley, tucked away beneath a copse of birch trees.

  “There!” shouted Evie. She raced toward the cottage. Basil and Forbes skidded down the steep hill after her, with a wave of goblins pouring through the undergrowth. Their delighted laughter echoed through the wood.

  She blasted through a pile of dead leaves at the side of the cottage. The front door was shut but yielded easily when she slammed her shoulder into it. Inside, the air was thick and moldy. It seemed the cottage hadn’t been occupied in many, many years. Except, that is, for the piles of treasure strewn everywhere. Furs and boots and shields and scepters, all shimmering with gemstones.

  Forbes burst in next, Basil just behind. The chorus of giggles surrounded the cottage as Evie slammed the door shut. She fumbled in the darkness for some sort of lock. She found a board nailed just above that could be rotated to bar the door. She wheeled it down just as a swarm of tiny fists began to bang against the wood.

  “The windows!” shouted Basil.

  Forbes lunged toward one as two sneering goblin faces appeared behind the filthy glass. They tried to force it open. He leaned his body onto the handle to hold it shut.

  Another goblin appeared with a laugh. Then another. And another. Together, they were stronger than Forbes. “Someone help!”

  Basil, however, was using the same tactic at another window and getting similar results. Six of the sharp-toothed monsters smiled in at him, their long arms slowly forcing the window up. Evie was occupied as well. Dozens of fists rained down on the door, which was starting to loosen from the jamb. She searched frantically for some way to fortify it but found only treasure, which was proving utterly worthless at the moment.

  There was a loud chink in the other room, then the flickering orange of firelight. The goblins’ laughter poured through the cottage like the wind as the windows kept inching open. The light approached, and a lumpy troll hobbled out from a bedroom. He was rotund and hairy in a coarse sleeping gown, though taller and leaner than his brother. He and Rumpledshirtsleeves shared the same wiry beard, however, and the same ambling stride. Rumpelstoatsnout walked to the center of the room, candle in stumpy hand, and grunted in annoyance. He seemed to not even notice the hordes of goblins that had nearly made it inside the cottage.

  “What are you doing in my house at this hour?” he barked. His voice was as dry and rumbly as his brother’s but inflamed with hostility.

  “Help us!” shouted Evie. “Goblins!”

  “Yes, goblins, yes, I see. And what have you brought them here for?”

  Evie threw her body against the door as the bit of wood barring it wobbled loose. Across the cottage, Forbes gave one last shout as the window slid open. He dove back to the center of the room, sword raised. Rumpelstoatsnout’s candle flickered orange against the sinister smiles of the goblins as they climbed inside.

  “Well, don’t let them in, you fool!” shouted the troll.

  Now Basil lost his battle, and a second window opened. Evie could feel the thumping at her back and knew it was only a matter of moments before the door would fall as well.

  “Go on, get them out of here!” bellowed Rumpelstoatsnout. Basil and Forbes backed toward him with their weapons in the air. The goblins fanned out across the room.

  Evie’s feet slid forward. The wooden brace clanked to the floor. The door eased open and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Laughter filled the cottage. Her mind swirled for a way out and finally landed on an idea. She reached around to her knapsack, fumbling with the clasp. One of the goblins was in now, smiling up at her with teeth like thorns. Another entered.

  Evie’s hand fluttered around inside the knapsack and found the thick, hairy stem of the flower she’d taken from Cumberland Hall. The first goblin grabbed her arm and opened its mouth for a bite. She ripped the flower from the knapsack and snapped the stem in two.

  In an instant, the goblins transformed into a fluttering cloud of ravens. The sinister giggling became panicked squawks. Huge black wings flapped as the creatures banged around the ceiling searching for a way out. Evie threw open the door and dove out onto the mossy ground. Ravens cawed as they poured into the night. Basil and Forbes raced out and crouched near Evie.

  The forest was nearly black except for the wavering light of the candle Rumpelstoatsnout held in one hand. In the other, he was swatting at the remaining birds with a straw broom.

  “Get out, demons! Begone!”

  There were more squawks from the darkness as the ravens found branches on which to perch. Rumpelstoatsnout peered down at the three cadets. They huffed and puffed, amazed to be alive.

  One of the troll’s rust-colored eyes nearly closed as his mouth curled into a malevolent frown. His ashen skin was even more dotted with warts than his brother’s. Strands of thick black hair sprayed out from the top of his otherwise bald head. The ravens continued to squawk.

  “Where did you get that flower?”

  • • •

  When Rumpelstoatsnout’s mind was working, his body seemed incapable of standing still. Unlike his brother, who always looked as though he was about to collapse in a pile of bones and loose skin, Rumpelstoatsnout’s movements were almost graceful. He had been a doddering, sour-faced old troll until his eyes found the chair strapped to Basil’s back, at which point he had transformed into something resembling a hungry fox with an eye inside the henhouse.

  “I’ll need to inspect it, of course,” he said in his customary rasp. “I’ve lived in Goblin’s Glade long enough to have had my trust withered to naught.” The troll paced, bobbing up and down with one leg shorter than the other. His eyes never left the Bandit’s Chair. “My brother sent this? To give to me?”

  “After you help us get the harp from Rumpelstiltskin,” said Evie. “When we have the harp, the chair is yours.”

  “Shame I didn’t know that before. I could have given you to the goblins, and it would already be mine.”

  Basil gulped.

  “Will you help us or not?” said Evie.

  Rumpelstoatsnout stopped pacing. He looked hungrily at the chair, his teeth chewing on nothing. “Rumpelstiltskin will not give up the harp easily.”

  “Then he’ll give it up difficultly,” said Evie.

  “I think you mean ‘with difficulty,’” said Basil.

  “No, I don’t!” she hissed, keeping her eyes fixed on the troll.

  Rumpelstoatsnout considered, and then his lips spread to reveal blocky yellow teeth. “I’ll help you, children. But I warn you, if you try to cheat me, you’ll never leave the Glade again.”

  “Agreed,” said Evie.

  “Uh, pardon me, Cadet Basil here.” He gave a nervous wave. “Er—we were told there might be someone called the Gray Man living round here?”

  “Will you stop with that nonsense?” said Forbes. “He’s just agreed to help us with the ha—”

  “The Gray Man, you say?” said Rumpelstoatsnout. Hearing the tension between Basil and Forbes seemed to have ignited his mind once again. He began to pace. “Why, he lives just down the valley. I could take you there now if you’d like.”

  “Yes,
we should like that very—”

  “Basil,” snapped Evie. “Outside.”

  “We are outside.”

  “Over here, then.” She pointed away from Rumpelstoatsnout, who watched from the doorway with a grin. Ravens squawked in the trees. “You as well.” Forbes came over and joined them. The fog grew ever more dense with each step down the valley, which felt as though it might funnel straight down to the center of the world. “Forbes is right. We cannot afford to veer from our mission. There’s no time.”

  “Especially not for the cursed brother of someone who’s not even alive anymore.”

  Basil stared at the ground. He didn’t say anything, but his nostrils flared.

  “Bas, what is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Look, I know this has been hard, but we’re almost there. We’ve nearly finished the mission—”

  “Sod the mission. I’ve got a mission of my own.”

  Forbes threw his hands in the air. “Brilliant.”

  Evie scowled at him, then turned back to Basil. “I know Marline asked you to find a cure for her brother, but that can’t be our mission right now.”

  “It isn’t about Marline. It isn’t about her brother, either.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  Basil glared at Forbes. “I don’t want to say with him here.”

  “Fine,” he said. “I don’t care. I’ll just go chat with the murderous troll over there.”

  He stalked off, leaving Evie and Basil alone. She took his hand, but he still wouldn’t look at her. “Basil. What is it?”

  He took a deep breath as emotions played across his face. Finally, when he had brought them under control, he spoke. “It isn’t this bird that I need the Gray Man’s magic for.” He looked up and met her eyes. “It’s my sister.”

  Evie was astonished. “What did you say?”

  “My mother didn’t send me to the Academy because she always wanted to have a girl to train as a princess. She already did have one. Her name was Charlotte Amelie, and she was my best friend.”

  “Bas . . . why didn’t you tell me you have a sister?”

  “Because I don’t anymore.” Tears welled in his eyes. “She was turned to stone.” A frigid breeze swept across the valley. Ravens sang out as they flew off into the night, bored with the people down below. “It was my decision to train as a princess. I did it as a tribute to her. To at least attempt what she’d always wanted to do but never had the chance.” He wiped his eyes. “I never thought I’d last a month, much less two years. Charlotte would have breezed through all three. She was the kindest person I ever knew. She would have made a brilliant princess. And she’d be howling with laughter at the idea that I was only one year away from doing it myself.” He chuckled ruefully.

  “I’m so sorry, Bas. Why did you keep it to yourself?”

  “The only way I could make it through the day was to pretend she never existed. She’s right there in our castle, but I haven’t gone to see her since they brought her back. It’s just too painful.” He sniffled and sighed. “That’s why I’ve got to find the Gray Man. I’m sorry, Evie, I know what’s at stake, but if I have the chance to bring my sister back to life, then how am I supposed to give that up? I may never get this opportunity again.” The loss of his sister was suddenly so plain in his face, in the sadness that had always lurked beneath his bright eyes. “If you and Forbes want to go on without me, I understand. But I can’t leave this place until I’ve spoken to the Gray Man and found out if he really does have a cure.”

  Panic bubbled in Evie’s stomach. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person on this journey that seemed to be robbing her of one loved one after another. Still, she couldn’t imagine trying to convince Basil that he was wrong to try to cure his sister while he had the chance. She nodded, then walked back up the hill. Through the gnarled branches, the sky seemed less black than she’d expected, more ashen, like the color of the end of night. Forbes turned to face her as she approached. Rumpelstoatsnout smiled. It made one of his eyes nearly close, like a wink. “Well? Have we a destination?”

  “We’d like to see the Gray Man—”

  “Oh, for the love—”

  “Quiet, Forbes.” She turned back to the troll. “Can you take us to him on the way to your brother’s castle?”

  “Aye, it’s only a short jump out of the way. But why should I agree to that? Our terms were already in place: the chair for the harp. Now you’d like to make use of more of my expertise?”

  Evie’s mind began to race. What else did she have to offer? Now that the flower stem had been broken, there was only a feather, a needle, and some dried meat in her sack, none of which seemed big enough or powerful enough to entice the troll to help.

  “Give him the bird statue.”

  “Forbes, you are not helping.” She took a deep breath. “If you lead us to the Gray Man . . .” She reached up and unfastened her enchanted neckband. She held it out at arm’s length, and when she spoke, her disembodied voice caused Rumpelstoatsnout to jump. “You can have this.”

  The troll ambled forward, and the corners of his smile plunged down. His large, bulging eyes stared intensely at the treasure.

  “Evie, you can’t give up your voice,” said Basil.

  “It’s all I’ve got left,” came the voice from her hand.

  “Say, Stoatsnout,” said Forbes, “isn’t there a fair round here we could pop by? Or a tournament of some sort? Now that we seem to have this extra time to traipse about?”

  “My name is not Stoatsnout!”

  “Will you do it?” said Evie.

  Rumpelstoatsnout lowered his thick eyelids and looked at the jeweled neckband. “For the chair and the jewels . . . aye. You have a deal.”

  “Lovely,” said Forbes with bile in his voice. “Shall we have some tea before we set off upon our leisurely journey to complete the mission? And I do hope you’ll show us the scenic points of interest along the way.”

  Rumpelstoatsnout disappeared back inside, where they heard the sounds of hammering and windows slamming shut. Forbes glared at Basil. “Any other stops you’d like to make?”

  “Forbes,” said Evie with a scowl. “Princesses adapt to the circumstance.”

  “And knights don’t. They kill dragons no matter the circumstance.”

  A surge of anger coursed through her, which, of course, was exactly what he wanted. Rumpelstoatsnout emerged wearing a large hat. The brim was filthy, stiff from rain and sweat. He used a special key to turn the piece of wood inside the door. He tested it, and it held. With his stolen treasures protected, he began to limp down into the valley. “This way.”

  They followed him on a thin trail with a gentle grade that wound around the slope of the forest. Evie was behind Basil, with Forbes behind her. As they descended, the air became so crisp, it bit at their skin. The fog stayed one step ahead of them, always obscuring the parts of the valley they were walking into. Ravens cawed from their hidden perches in the trees. Real ravens or former goblins? she wondered.

  Finally, as she began to feel herself settling in for a long night of walking, Rumpelstoatsnout spoke: “Just up there.”

  Evie was jolted from her thoughts. “Already?”

  “Aye, the Gray Man is my neighbor.” He turned back with an evil sneer. “He’s going to love my new neckband.”

  “Hang on,” she said, stomping her foot. They all stopped and looked at her. She pointed back the way they’d come. “You want me to give up my voice for a short walk in a straight line?” The troll’s cottage was still visible on the hillside in the distance.

  “Are you trying to cheat me?” snapped the troll, raising his shoulders.

  “No one’s cheating anyone,” said Basil.

  “Gray Man won’t like hearing I’ve been cheated. Perhaps I’d better tell him what sort of people you ar
e.”

  Evie’s foot was tapping. She knew she was trapped. “All right, all right. But I need it until we get the harp. I can’t talk without it.”

  “Fine.” He pointed a stubby finger at her. “But then I want the chair and the neckband with no trouble attached.”

  Evie nodded. “Lead on.”

  Satisfied, Rumpelstoatsnout continued down the trail. The cadets followed him straight to the valley floor. It was a vast meadow of trees and tall grasses beneath a constant drip of rain, and it was dotted with pools of black water. Scattered all across the valley were statues. As the group went on, the scene became even more frightening. The statues were moving. Their stone heads turned to watch as the four of them passed. They were soldiers, each of them, an army of statues frozen on the march.

  “Look!” said Basil, a hopeful smile forming. “Look at them!”

  “This is the Gray Man’s garden,” said the troll. “These are the ones he’s tending.” The frigid water pooled on the valley floor wicked straight into their shoes. Some of the statues turned almost completely around to watch them, while others could only move their eyes. Evie tried to keep her head down, watching Basil’s feet splash along the trail, but she couldn’t look away from the stone eyes that followed her.