The Salamander Spell

by E. D. Baker

  Chartreuse shuddered. “You’re right. Never mind. It probably wouldn’t work on a person anyway. And if it did, it probably wouldn’t do me any good, not if it was one of Mother’s spells.” She stopped talking to peer into the darkness that seemed to move just beyond the light of the torch. “What is that? Is someone there?”

  Grassina looked in the direction her sister was pointing. “It’s probably this fog. It makes things look different.”

  “Maybe so, but it looks so real, almost as if—”

  “I may not know a lot about courtly manners, but it seems to me that pointing is rude,” said a wavering voice. “Who do you think you are, chit, pointing at me that way?”

  “Now Hubert,” said a younger and steadier voice, “I’m sure the girl didn’t mean any harm by it.”

  “Who are you?” demanded Chartreuse, looking at the two approaching figures. “Are you blind that you can’t see to whom you’re speaking? I’m Princess Chartreuse and this is my sister, Princess Grassina. I expect, no, I demand an apology this . . .”

  Chartreuse’s voice faded away as Hubert and his companion drew closer. It wasn’t so much the way the old, stooped figure in the tattered tunic and his younger, well-dressed companion walked that drew her eye as the way they weren’t walking at all. Both men appeared to be floating a few feet above the ground, which was convenient since neither one seemed to have any legs below their knees. The rest of their bodies began to materialize as she watched, open-mouthed, although they remained slightly transparent.

  “Are you . . . Can you be . . . Is it possible . . . ,” stammered Chartreuse.

  “They must be ghosts,” Grassina whispered in her sister’s ear.

  “Ghosts?” Chartreuse said, the word ending in a squeak.

  “Pardon me, Your Highness,” said the younger figure. “I’m Sir Jarvis, and this is my friend Hubert. At your service.” With a polished gesture, the ghost whipped off his pointed cap and bowed deeply. Chartreuse gasped when his head fell off and rolled across the floor.

  The head came to a stop faceup, but its lips had collected dirt as it rolled. “Pleh! Pleh!” Sir Jarvis spit, then rubbed his lips together and said, “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. There are still times I forget that I’m not all one piece.”

  Chartreuse’s voice reached a higher octave when the headless body began patting the ground with its right hand. She swayed when its right arm dropped off.

  “Don’t lose your head, Jarvis,” said Hubert. The hand on Sir Jarvis’s unattached arm was still patting the ground when Hubert picked up the head and set it back on his friend’s neck.

  “Ah, there we are,” Sir Jarvis said, reaching with his remaining arm for the one on the floor. “It’s been more than two hundred years since I was drawn and quartered, but one tends to forget such things.”

  Chartreuse swayed once and collapsed, lying sprawled on the cold stone floor.

  Sir Jarvis was still talking when he shoved his arm bone into the socket. “I apologize for . . . Oh dear, I believe the young lady has fainted.”

  Grassina dropped to her knees. “Chartreuse! Are you all right?”

  “I think we should go,” Sir Jarvis told Hubert. “There’s nothing we can do, and no one wants to be in such an embarrassing position around strangers.”

  “She must be weak in the head,” said Hubert, “fainting that way and all.”

  “Quite possibly,” said Sir Jarvis as the ghosts faded away. “Too much inbreeding in the royal lines, you know.”

  “Chartreuse!” said Grassina, shaking her. “Wake up! You can’t stay here.” When her sister didn’t respond, she slapped her once on each cheek.

  Chartreuse opened her eyes. “What are you doing? What happened?”

  “You fainted. If you stand up, we’ll . . .”

  “Don’t make up stories, Grassina.” Chartreuse pushed herself up with her elbows. “I’ve never fainted in my life. I’m not one of those weak-kneed Nellies who can’t . . . What is that ?”

  The fog had moved on, but something else was coming their way. A shape even darker than the deepest shadows was drifting toward them out of the gloom. About the size of a calf, it had glittering red eyes that glared malevolently at them. Chartreuse scrambled to her feet, clutching Grassina’s hand for support. “Let’s go, Grassina. Let’s get out of here.”

  “I’d love to, except we have to go that way to get to the stairs,” Grassina replied, gesturing toward the corridor past the shadow beast.

  Grassina could feel her sister’s hand tremble as they backed away. She suddenly had the urge to protect her, a feeling so unfamiliar that she surprised herself, but Chartreuse was her last living relative, or at least the last one who felt like family. As Chartreuse took another step back, the red eyes swung in her direction.

  “Don’t move, Chartreuse,” said Grassina, but it was too late. The shadow beast was charging straight at her older sister.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” shouted Grassina. Pulling back her fist, she stepped in front of Chartreuse and punched the shadow squarely between its glowing red eyes. With an anguished howl, the shadow beast stopped in its tracks, turned tail, and ran the other way.

  “Thank goodness,” said Chartreuse, her voice sounding as unsteady as she looked. Tidying her hair with one hand, she took the torch from Grassina and started for the stairs, going faster when she heard the tap of her own footsteps. Grassina was right behind her when she reached the top. As the dungeon door closed behind them, Grassina started to say good night, but Chartreuse didn’t give her the chance.

  “Don’t you dare say a word. For once I want you to listen to what I have to say. I told you I didn’t want to go down there, but you insisted. We had to go see Father, who wasn’t even there. And you said that Mother was gone, except she wasn’t! And then you stood there like a stick when . . . when something tried to frighten me to death, and then there was that monster! Were you trying to get me killed? That was it, wasn’t it? You’ve always been jealous of me. You spoiled my lessons so my magic wouldn’t start and laughed at me when I tried to learn in spite of you. You hate me so much that you want to see me dead. I think you want to see all of us dead. I bet you were happy that Father died. I bet those tears were all a pretense. You’re just as bad as Mother. You don’t even need a curse to turn you into a horrible person. You were born that way. Do us both a favor and stay away from me. I don’t ever want to hear you or any of your ideas again. I wish you weren’t my sister. I wish you’d never been born!”

  Grassina was stunned. She knew that encountering the ghosts and the shadow beast had rattled Chartreuse, but even that wouldn’t account for all the horrible things she’d said. Grassina watched, gasping for air as Chartreuse whirled around and strode down the hall.

  Eleven

  Grassina didn’t sleep at all that night, although she tried for the first few hours. After that, she wrapped herself in her blanket and curled up on the window ledge to gaze at the night sky. She didn’t know what to do. The life she’d always known was over; nothing would ever be the same again now that her father was gone. Chartreuse would probably become queen soon since she wanted it so much and their mother obviously didn’t care. Because Chartreuse seemed to blame Grassina for everything bad that had ever happened, Grassina was sure that one of Chartreuse’s first acts as queen of Greater Greensward would be to banish her younger sister. And if she didn’t banish Grassina, she’d probably see her married off to one of the least desirable suitors. Perhaps it would be the one who hadn’t bathed since the day he was born. Then again, if Chartreuse didn’t marry her off, she might keep her at the castle as some sort of slave to appease Olivene, making Grassina do all the nasty chores for their mother. As far as Grassina could see, her future at the castle would be awful no matter what Chartreuse decided.

  As the first rays of sunlight turned the night sky from black to gray, Grassina collected a change of clothes and all of her throwing stones, wrapping them in a blanket. Loaded down with this bun
dle, she was the first person to cross the drawbridge that morning.

  Grassina went as far as the edge of the practice field before glancing back at the castle one last time. The sight of the mist-shrouded moat, the pennants floating from the tops of the turrets, and the silvery stone of the castle fortifications almost made her want to cry. “No more of that,” Grassina muttered to herself, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. She’d cried enough over the last few days to last her a lifetime and was afraid that if she got started again, she might not be able to stop.

  Hurrying past the practice field, she tried not to think about the last time she’d seen her father there, talking and laughing with his men. She ducked her head, refusing to look at the tree house. After bringing Marniekins and Hector back to the castle, she’d left them in a special hiding place in the buttery. She knew it was foolish, but she regretted that she hadn’t taken the time to say good-bye. It almost felt as if she’d deserted old friends. And then there was Pippa, a new friend who must think she’d been abandoned, too.

  “Pippa!” Grassina called as she passed under the ruined tree house. “Pippa, where are you?”

  After pausing for a reply and hearing nothing but silence, Grassina shifted her bundle in her arms and continued walking. Pippa may not have stayed around the tree house, but she still might not have gone far. Calling the little snake’s name, Grassina followed her usual route to the swamp, looking for Pippa the entire time.

  She was still calling to the snake when she reached the last of the trees that grew at the edge of the swamp. Suddenly, something fell off a branch and landed on her shoulder. Grassina shrieked and dropped her bundle, then began slapping at herself with both hands.

  “Hey!” Pippa said, squirming under the neckline of Grassina’s tunic to avoid being slapped. “What’ss wrong with you?”

  “Help! I . . . Oh, it’s you. Why did you do that? You nearly frightened me to death!”

  “Ssorry,” said Pippa, “except it wass your fault. You kept calling me! I wanted to sstay away from you. After all the bad thingss my luck hass done, I thought you’d be better off without me. But you’re my only friend, and when you kept shouting my name, I decided that you musst really need me for ssomething. Iss everything all right?”

  Grassina took a deep, shuddering breath, ready to tell the little snake about her father’s death and her sister’s cruel words, but she found she didn’t want to talk about it, at least not yet. Instead she let her eyes wander from the blue sky that seemed to go on forever, to the light reflecting off the water half hidden by cattails, to the bees humming around a patch of wildflowers, and she realized that she felt better than she had in days. Her stomach had been in knots from the last time she spoke with her sister, but now that she had reached the swamp, she was finally able to relax.

  “It’s been awful, but I think it’s about to get a lot better,” Grassina told the little snake. After all, she had a friend, a place to go, and the beginning of a plan. She didn’t expect the Swamp Fairy to be easy to find. If she hadn’t shown herself yet, she wasn’t likely to just because it was what Grassina wanted. Even so, Grassina knew exactly what to do. She’d make herself a shelter deep in the swamp at the end of one of the more difficult-to-find paths, somewhere safe where nasty relatives would never find her should they ever think to come looking. She would go out during the day and look for the Swamp Fairy, who was bound to want to meet her face-to-face eventually. Grassina wasn’t sure what she would do then, but at least she could thank the only person who’d helped her. In the meantime, there would be plenty to eat, at least for the rest of the summer, and she was sure she’d meet the fairy before the weather grew cold.

  Although she doubted that anyone would care enough to try to find her, Grassina planned to hide her trail by stepping on rocks and avoiding the softer mud. Taking the less obvious routes, she could go places that only she knew existed.

  “I’m going to live in the swamp for a while. Things have gotten worse at the castle and I have to get away,” said Grassina.

  “It got worsse when I wassn’t even there? Maybe my bad luck rubbed off on you!”

  Grassina sighed. “I don’t think you have bad luck. If anything, I think your luck is good, at least for you. When that monster broke into the witch’s cottage and wrecked everything, he set you free, didn’t he?”

  “Yess, and sstepped on my tail!”

  “Which wasn’t bad enough to kill you. Think about what would have happened if he’d stepped on your head!”

  “That’ss true,” said Pippa. “But what about your little housse in the tree?”

  “It was ruined, which was lucky for you when you think about it. I hadn’t brought you any food; if the tree hadn’t broken the cottage roof, you couldn’t have gotten out and found something to eat.”

  “I never thought of it that way!”

  “That’s what I mean. It’s all a matter of how you look at it. So I don’t want to hear any more about your bad luck,” Grassina said as she set her feet just so, to avoid the sucking mud.

  “All right,” Pippa said. “But I have sso many other thingss I want to tell you. Even though I’ve been frightfully cold, I’ve learned a lot during the lasst few dayss. Did you know that dollss can live in trunkss and don’t need to breathe?”

  “Most of them don’t talk either,” muttered Grassina.

  “What did you ssay?”

  “Nothing. What else have you learned?”

  “That thosse metal birdss couldn’t ssay anything but nonssensse. I don’t think they have any real thoughtss in their headss. Mice aren’t too bright either. They go the ssame placess time after time, which makess them eassy to catch.”

  “I’m sure it does,” said Grassina.

  “And the hairy humanss who run on all fourss are much fasster than the oness who aren’t hairy and run on two feet.”

  Grassina stopped walking. “Hairy humans? Do you mean werewolves? Have you seen any around here?”

  “A few. They were on their way to your casstle. They came back talking about the guardss and the fori . . . forfif . . . the moat and wallss and sstuff.”

  Grassina nodded. “You mean the fortifications. They’re the things that keep the castle safe. Have you seen any hairy humans today?” she asked, glancing behind her.

  “I never ssee them when the ssun iss out. Do you think they could be related to owlss? Owlss come out at night, too.”

  “I’m sure there’s no connection,” said Grassina. “Please do me a favor. Tell me if you see any sign of those hairy humans. I’d like to know where they are and what they’re doing.”

  “Ssure,” said Pippa, “although I don’t know why anyone would want to talk to them.”

  While the little snake kept watch for the hairy humans, Grassina followed the secret pathways that only she knew, zigzagging where the hidden path required it, jumping across patches of quickmud to another path when the first arrived at a dead end. She thought she smelled smoke, but the wind changed direction, carrying the odor away before she could locate its source. The possibility of dragons in the area made her walk faster, yet it still took her most of the morning to reach the heart of the swamp.

  Grassina knew exactly where she would build her cozy little home. An island about a quarter the size of the Great Hall supported a spring and a scattering of wild plum trees. With its own moat of quicksand and open water surrounding it and a thick screen of trees and brush concealing it, the island was almost impossible to find let alone reach unless one knew exactly where to look. Grassina had visited it many times and was familiar with every tree and rock.

  To her surprise, when she arrived at the island the little grove of plum trees was occupied. A makeshift lean-to stood between two of the larger trees. Only a short distance away, a pile of kindling and a still-smoldering log marked a fire pit ringed with stones. Draped over the branch of one of the plum trees, a ragged tunic and a pair of breeches dripped water onto the trampled grass, evidence that someone had
been washing laundry. Even so, one quick glance around the tiny island showed her that no one was home.

  “Now what will I do?” Grassina murmured.

  “Iss that where you’re going to live?” asked Pippa. “It doessn’t look very warm.”

  “That lean-to isn’t mine,” said Grassina. “I don’t know who made it. It wasn’t here the last time I came this way.”

  She considered turning around and going in search of another likely spot, but her feet refused to obey. Her whole plan had been centered on this island, and to find that living there was no longer an option was almost more than she could bear. Shouldering her bundle, Grassina crossed onto the island and began to look around, wondering who had taken over her secret hiding spot.

  The campsite held little of a personal nature. An old wooden trencher and a small iron pot rested on the ground beside the fire pit. Inside the lean-to she found a simple pair of leather shoes in good condition and a neatly folded blanket, clean, sweet smelling, and serviceable despite the patches that seemed to hold it together. She didn’t think there was anything else to find until she picked up the blanket and saw that it had been concealing a slim wooden chest. With water marks discoloring the wood and deep grooves and scratches in its top and sides, the chest looked like it might have come from a trash heap, but there was something about it that intrigued her.

  Pippa flicked her tongue at the chest. “What’ss that? Iss there a doll like Marniekinss inside? Hello there!” she called, sliding down Grassina’s arm so that she was closer to the wooden chest. “Can you hear me?”

  “Pippa, not so loud! I don’t think a doll would fit in there. Just a minute and I’ll see if I can open it.” Grassina knelt beside the chest and tried to lift the lid. It stayed shut as stubbornly as if it had been made of one piece.

  “That’ss not going to work,” said Pippa. “Maybe if you bit it, or hit it with a sstick . . .”

  “I think I know a better way,” said Grassina.