by Temre Beltz
Pippa looked up when the dining hall door swung open, revealing the largest cake she had ever seen. It was at least four feet tall, attached to a skinny pair of legs, and must have been extravagant even according to Triumphant standards based on the stunned looks on the other students’ faces. When the cake scurried forward and slid onto the buffet table, Pippa was relieved to see that the legs didn’t actually belong to the cake but rather to a sparkly-eyed, flush-faced Maisy. When Mistress Peabody wasn’t looking, Maisy sent Pippa a little wave and a flash of a bright smile. Pippa marveled at how even her hair seemed to have an extra spring to it. Regrettably, Maisy didn’t stick around for long, but shuffled out almost as quickly as she had shuffled in.
With a slight nod to the cake, Mistress Peabody rose gracefully out of her chair and delicately cleared her throat. Seeing how composed she was made Pippa feel squirmy inside. Surely Mistress Peabody wouldn’t be acting in such a manner if she knew that two wily magicians had been traipsing around Triumph Mountain just two nights ago and speaking suspiciously about a secret plan. But as much as she hated to admit it, Pippa also knew that Council member Slickabee was right: even if Pippa and Ernest told Mistress Peabody everything, she’d never believe them, and she’d most likely punish them. Accordingly, they had decided to keep quiet, but that hadn’t done a thing to relieve Pippa’s fears.
Mistress Peabody turned her dazzling smile up to full wattage. “Students, you may have heard the saying that good news comes in threes, perhaps especially when you are a Triumphant! And so, without further ado, I am pleased to inform you that today we will be taking a . . . field trip!”
A chorus of cheers erupted from the Triumphants. Some even began to applaud. Mistress Peabody executed several deep curtsies, and for the first time all morning, Prudence’s expression brightened a hair. “Will there be reporters from the Wanderly Whistle?” she asked, likely hoping to redeem herself after the humiliating incident with Leonardo. “Will there be adoring fans and a chance to practice our waving technique?”
“Yes, yes, and yes!” Mistress Peabody said, eyes shining. “We will be traveling to the Crowne Stadium to attend the Triumphant-Dragon Duel. The Chancellor has even set aside a special cheering section for the students of Peabody’s Academy for the Triumphant!”
“Ooooh, caramel corn and butter toffee pecans!” one of the younger boys, Simon, exclaimed.
Anastasia beamed and added, “Pink cotton candy and Fizzoops!”28
As the Triumphants began to chatter and babble excitedly, Pippa leaned over to Ernest. “Is it just me or has everyone missed that Mistress Peabody just said the word ‘dragon’? I’m not sure I want to see a real dragon.”
“Don’t worry, Pippa,” Ernest said. “I’ve been to tons of these things, and I’ve never once been scared. You’re gonna love it!”
“Are they, um, miniature dragons, then?” Pippa asked hopefully.
Ernest grinned. “Nope, full grown and full toothed. But the Triumphants usually have the dragon under complete control before anyone’s even taken their seats. Sometimes the dragons are so wiped, they start snoring!”
Pippa felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle the way they did whenever she encountered a glaring inconsistency. Since she had arrived at Peabody’s Academy for the Triumphant, it seemed to be happening often. “Ernest,” Pippa mused, “does it really count as a duel if no one sees it?”
“Well, sure it . . . does,” Ernest said, his voice trailing off. He frowned. “It is sort of strange, isn’t it?”
“And not very heroic, if you ask me,” Pippa tossed in.
“Even though the Triumphant always wins?”
Pippa shrugged. “I don’t think winning has nearly as much to do with being a hero as the Chancellor says. I think one of the bravest things a hero can do is be willing to lose.”
Ernest nodded thoughtfully while Mistress Peabody clapped her hands to regain the chattering students’ attention. “Now for my second bit of good news! Since all of our Triumphant students have been matched with their loyal companions, it’s time to celebrate with our Annual Fall Picnic Extravaganza! There will be games, food, fun, oodles of reporters to capture every shining moment, and of course . . . prizes! Plus”—Mistress Peabody paused and looked significantly around the room—“this year we have invited some very special guests. But do not ask me who, because it is a surprise, and I shall not breathe a word of it—not a single word!” she finished with a giggle.
Even though the other students oohed and aahed, Pippa wasn’t impressed. The last special guest to show up at Castle Cressida, Ms. Bonecrusher, nearly had her way with them. Even if the Chancellor himself showed up, Pippa didn’t know if she actually wanted to meet him. Indeed, the only people’s names who Pippa hoped to hear were Mother and Father, Charlie, Jane, Louisa, Miles, Artie, Finn, and baby Rose. The Norths.
Pippa swallowed back the knot in her throat. She wondered how long she could be away from home before her family—out of sheer necessity—began to slowly fill in the hole she’d left behind. Had Jane taken over helping their mother with the cooking at dinnertime? Who was folding her father’s holey socks? Did anyone remember that Rose liked to be sung “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” five times before she was put down for her afternoon nap? Or was it possible they were all getting along just fine without her? Maybe even better?
“Pardon me, Mistress Peabody,” Prudence said with a small, expectant smile. “But you said you had three bits of good news. And that was only two.”
“Right you are, Prudence!” Mistress Peabody said. She whipped out that morning’s edition of the Wanderly Whistle, and there, on the front page, was a picture of Pippa from the day of her first official training session with Ferdinand. Pippa’s jaw gaped. Prudence’s smile fell flat. Mistress Peabody exclaimed, “My news has to do with none other than Bettina!”
Without missing a beat, at least a dozen Triumphants corrected, “Pippa!”
“Ah yes,” Mistress Peabody said, shaking her head. “I’m not sure why I still have such difficulty with that. Anyhow, the Chancellor—yes, the Chancellor—was so smitten with the idea of the fire horse returning to Triumph Mountain that he has chosen to honor Ferdinand with a visit to the Capital!”
Pippa’s pulse began to race. A wave of heat washed over her. She couldn’t think of anything worse than sending Ferdinand off to the Capital. “But, Mistress Peabody,” Pippa began, “you saw what happened with Ms. Banks the other day. Ferdinand was terrified at the sight of her hat! Who knows what might set him off in a place as crowded as the Capital?”
Mistress Peabody waved her hand through the air. “Nonsense! That visit went smashing.”
Pippa was at a loss. Mistress Peabody seemed fully incapable of seeing or remembering anything at all as less than smashing. Even still, Pippa couldn’t give up. “And—and he’s terribly skinny. He’s only just starting to fill out a little bit. And what about his flames? I’ve never once seen him ignite anything more than a flicker or two.”
Mistress Peabody raised her eyebrow. “And that’s not enough for you?”
“Of course it’s enough for me, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough for the Chancellor. The—the paintings of the fire horses—they always show them as being larger-than-life and Ferdinand’s . . . not.”
“Are you saying you have concerns about accepting the Chancellor’s invitation?”
Relieved that Mistress Peabody seemed to be coming around, Pippa bobbed her head up and down. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
But Mistress Peabody didn’t bob her head in return. Instead, her eyes narrowed. “Are you also saying you believe the Chancellor is incapable of appreciating the significance of a symbol as meaningful and heroic as a fire horse? Tell me, Pippa, what kind of ruler do you think we have?”
The room grew suddenly very quiet. All the Triumphants turned to stare at Pippa.
Pippa took a deep breath. She answered carefully, “I’m just worried about Ferdinand
is all. Aren’t Triumphants supposed to be concerned about their loyal companions?”
Mistress Peabody’s dazzling smile returned, but it left Pippa feeling cold inside. Nothing about Mistress Peabody was ever truly genuine. “Yes, of course they are, dear. If it would make you feel better, you can stay with Ferdinand until his escort arrives—”
“Could I go with him?” Pippa blurted out.
“To the Capital?” Mistress Peabody said, and then, almost immediately, “No! That would hardly be appropriate. One does not simply invite themselves to an appointment with the Chancellor. Now are you going to stay behind or not? It really would be a shame to miss a trip to a place as lovely as the Crowne Stadium.”
Pippa was hardly torn. Based on Ernest’s comments, the Triumphant-Dragon Duel sounded as heroic as the agendas governing school villain visits. Pippa couldn’t see much value in that. But above all else was Ferdinand. Pippa had never wanted a loyal companion, and she certainly never thought she could become attached to one, but neither could she keep from reliving that moment when Ferdinand stormed into the Triumphant Training Forest to rescue her and Ernest. Pippa might not be able to keep Ferdinand away from the Chancellor, but at least she could send him off the way a true loyal companion should.
“I’d like to stay behind, ma’am,” Pippa said at the exact same time that a terrible groan erupted from Ernest’s direction. Pippa and the rest of the Triumphants looked over to where Ernest was seated with Maisy’s extravagant cake in front of him. Or at least Maisy’s extravagant cake used to be in front of him. All that remained on the platter was a pile of messy crumbs, a few smudges of frosting, and Ernest rocking himself to and fro with an anguished look on his face.
Hours later, Ernest’s stomachache still hadn’t subsided, but that was hardly the worst of it. Pippa and Ernest stood shoulder to shoulder in front of Ferdinand’s empty paddock. Their eyes were glued to the back of the Quill member’s carriage as it jostled along the road, dipped below the hill, and slipped, finally, out of sight.
For the time being, Ferdinand was gone.
Pippa’s lower lip quivered. “Ferdinand looked so scared, Ernest. I—do you think he’s going to be okay? Do you think I should have done something more?”
“Against an officer of the Quill?” Ernest shook his head. “The Chancellor doesn’t pick those guys on accident, Pippa. You couldn’t have done anything to stop him, at least not without getting into serious trouble. Ferdinand would have tried to protect you, and then who knows what they would have done to him? You did everything you could, Pippa.”
Pippa’s chest squeezed tight. The ends of her ponytail lifted gently in the breeze. “I hope so,” she said quietly.
She dipped her hand into her pocket and fished out one of Maisy’s butterscotch candies. Even though Maisy’s butterscotches had the uncanny ability to make her rock heart feel the smallest bit lighter, it wasn’t nearly the same as having Maisy’s company. Of course, as soon as the Triumphants left for their field trip, Pippa and Ernest had run, slightly doubled over in Ernest’s case, to the kitchen to fill Maisy in. But, strangely, she wasn’t there. Pippa didn’t think she had any real reason to worry—especially considering Maisy’s radiant mood that morning in the dining hall—but Maisy hadn’t mentioned anything about having somewhere to be, and the day felt hopelessly gloomy.
Pippa held out a butterscotch candy in Ernest’s direction. “You want one?” she asked.
Ernest winced. “Ugh! Candy, Pippa? I don’t think my stomach’s going to be back to normal for a week. I didn’t think it was possible to get enough of Maisy’s baking, but now I know the cold, hard truth.”
“But why did you have to eat the entire cake, Ernest?”
“That’s easy,” Ernest said. “It was the best way I could think of to stay behind with you. It’s not like I could just ask to be excused from something like the Triumphant-Dragon Duel! But nobody—especially Mistress Peabody—likes a sick Triumphant. The scary part is, Maisy’s baking is so good, eating an entire cake, especially one that huge, was a lot easier than it should have been.”
Pippa stared at Ernest in disbelief. She shook her head. “Ernest, you didn’t have to—”
“I know,” Ernest said shyly. “But I wanted to. It’s actually pretty nice to have somewhere you really want to be instead of just always going where you’re told.”
Pippa’s eyes glistened. For all the hard things that had happened since she’d left Ink Hollow, there were some good things too. Meeting Ernest was perhaps the brightest of them all. Pippa looked hard at Ernest. “Thank you,” she said.
Ernest smiled and leaned gently back on the rail of the paddock when a loud RIBBIT burst forth at his feet. He yelped and shot straight up in the air, landing on top of the paddock gate. Perched beneath Ernest, planted on the delicate green grass, was the ugliest, wartiest, largest toad Pippa had ever seen. The toad blinked unbecomingly. It let out a small, unceremonious belch. It looked from Ernest to Pippa and back again.
Still clinging to the paddock gate, Ernest whispered loudly, “What do you think it wants?”
“I think it’s a toad. I don’t think it wants anything. I also don’t think it understands words,” Pippa whispered just as loudly.
The grass around the toad suddenly began to bend and ripple. Pippa’s breath caught in her throat, and she lifted her head in time to see the Winds of Wanderly swirl near.
“Uh, Pippa . . .” Ernest began warily.
And then to Ernest’s utter horror and Pippa’s delight, the offensive toad exploded into a cloud of green dust. Almost immediately, the Winds of Wanderly lifted the dust up and transformed it into a letter. The Winds didn’t linger but paused just long enough to brush gently against Pippa’s cheek and tickle Ernest beneath his chin. Despite his bulging eyes, Ernest couldn’t keep a few peals of laughter from spilling out.
When everything grew still and quiet, he finally managed to stutter, “D-did that really just happen? Were those the real Winds of Wanderly? And why did the toad have to explode?”
“That wasn’t a real toad, Ernest,” Pippa said. “I’m not sure why my fairy godmother’s letters arrive like that, but her last one blew in as a bright green dragonfly. And as far as those being the real Winds of Wanderly . . . well, can you possibly imagine they were anything else?”
“No,” Ernest said softly. But a moment later he furrowed his brow and said, “I am sort of curious about that letter though. If you ask me, ugly toads and buzzing dragonflies don’t exactly scream ‘fairy godmother.’”
Pippa, who had tried not to think too hard on the matter, didn’t respond. Instead, she brought the letter near and read:
Dear Pippa,
I received your last request to reduce the price of your wish, and guess what? Today just so happens to be Free Wishing Day. It’s sort of a new thing here in the Merry Meadow, and we don’t really like to advertise it. Still, based on what you said regarding those cockroaches, it sounds like you really need it.
If you’re up for it, and if your rock heart hasn’t slowed you down completely (because I’ve heard sometimes that happens), I’ll meet you at the South Peak of Triumph Mountain on Wednesday at sunset. Also, if you’re wondering how I know you’re stuck on Triumph Mountain, just remember that you SHOULDN’T KEEP SECRETS from a fairy godmother. On that note: don’t be late! I’m pretty sure granting a wish for a Triumphant is against a bunch of the Chancellor’s rules, but I won’t tell if you won’t.
Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo,
Fairy Dash
Pippa’s hand trembled. She lowered the letter and looked toward Ernest, but his eyes were glued to the toes of his shoes.
“Ernest, can you believe it?” Pippa said. “I—I never imagined the price of my wish would go from an impossible one hundred grubins to . . . free. Ernest, this means that—”
“You’re leaving,” Ernest said flatly.
As if all of Triumph Mountain were listening in, over Ernest’s shoulder Pippa saw a green vine
sprout up from the ground and wrap itself around the west wall of Castle Cressida. Castle Cressida sagged unwittingly beneath its weight.
“Now everything’s going to go back to normal,” Ernest said, kicking the toe of his shoe through the grass. “And since knowing you, I’ve decided that I don’t really know if I like our normal anymore.”
“What don’t you like about it?” Pippa asked carefully. Normally Pippa wouldn’t have had any problem laying out the very many concerns she had, but saddling Ernest with that, knowing she might not be around to help anymore, hardly seemed right.
“Do you think any of it is real?” Ernest burst out, his eyes searching Pippa.
“Yes,” Pippa said solemnly. And then, “I think you’re real.”
Ernest let out a little sigh. “Well, of course I’m real. That’s not exactly what I meant—”
“I know what you meant, Ernest. And I meant what I said too. You belong here at Peabody’s Academy for the Triumphant because you’re a real hero.”
“I almost believe you,” Ernest whispered. “And maybe that’s why I really, really don’t want you to go. Are you sure you can’t stay? Even just a little while longer?”
For as much time as Pippa had spent dreaming about leaving Triumph Mountain, she’d never once considered that it wouldn’t be easy. She laid her hand gently on Ernest’s shoulder. “As much as you belong here, Ernest,” she began, “I belong with my family. I can’t imagine Free Wishing Day comes around more than once a year, and I’m afraid if I don’t go now, I might never find my way back home.” Pippa paused. Her eyes lingered on Ferdinand’s empty paddock. “I do have one favor to ask though.” When Ernest straightened up, she continued, “If—I mean when—Ferdinand gets back from the Capital, can you keep an eye on him for me? I know he’s a fire horse, but he . . . needs something. I haven’t figured out exactly what yet, but I don’t think it’s something he can do on his own.”
Ernest was silent for a moment, but then he nodded his head. “I don’t think any of us were meant to do things alone,” he said, and then he pushed away from Ferdinand’s paddock and walked briskly through the grass.