“Where’s the mirror?” Virginia asked her father.
“It’s on this boat,” Tony said. “We can go straight home—”
He looked toward the river as he spoke. Then his forehead creased. Wolf had a bad feeling even before Tony started to shout, “They’ve taken it! They’ve stolen the boat. Look, there it is!”
A single dwarf sat on the back of a heavily loaded boat. He was far down the river. When he saw Tony jumping up and down on the bank, he waved.
Tony moaned. Virginia closed her eyes. Wolf suppressed a smile. She’d be with him a bit longer then. This wasn’t so great a tragedy after all.
For one brief moment, Relish the Troll King thought everything was going his way. Two dainty footprints in flour, two larger footprints beside, had meant that the witch had gone inside the prison, just as he had expected. But from there everything had gone horribly wrong.
Alarms were ringing, warders were shouting about a prison break, and Relish had a hunch who had caused that break. Maybe his children weren’t as incompetent as he thought. Maybe this witch did have more powers than he expected.
He had run to the side of the prison, his son Burly ahead of him. Burly shouted, “There they are!” and Relish saw them as he hurried down the hill.
The witch, the Wolf, a man he’d never seen before, and Prince Wendell were casting off in a large boat, almost a ship. They were much too far away for comfort.
“Don’t let them get away,” Relish ordered.
His children sped past him down the towpath. Relish had to hurry to keep up. Blabberwort and Bluebell reached the water first, but they couldn’t stop properly and they fell in. Burly narrowly missed landing on the boat. He swam behind it and grabbed the rudder.
“You are dog food!” he shouted, his voice echoing to the shore. Relish stood at the water’s edge, ignoring his flailing children, hoping Burly would stop the boat.
Burly hauled himself onto the stem. Relish felt a bit of hope.
“Hit him!” Wolf shouted. “Get him!”
The man Relish didn’t recognize backed away from Burly as if he were afraid of him. But the witch grabbed a piece of wood and smashed Burly on the head.
He screamed and let go, disappearing underwater as the boat pulled away. By the time Burly surfaced again, the boat was too far away to reach.
Relish crossed his arms and shook his head. “What a pathetic display.”
Light filtered into the Queen’s bedroom, revealing years of dust and cobwebs near the ceiling. She’d had her servants clean this room and it wasn’t as bad as it had been, but it still needed work. The work would have to wait, however, until she was ready. Her bed was cleaned, the mattress aired, and the blankets newly washed. The furniture was dusted, and the floor gleamed. But it didn’t gleam as much as the five newly cleaned mirrors that surrounded her.
She stood in front of her favorite mirror. It was dark green, ornate, the edging a mass of squiggles like a thousand snakes. And unlike the others, it reflected nothing. All it showed her was a deep blackness.
“Mirror?” she said. “Wake from your sleep.”
For a long time, nothing happened. Then there was a noise like the scraping of sandpaper. The mirror bubbled ever so slightly, and behind the darkness something started to glow. Then the surface moved, becoming liquid.
The Queen smiled. The power was strong, even now. When it seemed ready, she said, “Summon Relish the Troll King.”
One by one, Relish’s children climbed out of the river. They were soaking wet, and they all shook themselves off like dogs.
“How dare you call yourself my children!” Relish shouted. “You are the most—argghh!”
A blinding pain flashed through his head. Something was in there with him. A command. More than a command. A compulsion. A voice, deep and haunting. He closed his eyes, trying to fight it, but that only made the pain worse.
“Are you all right, Dad?” Blabberwort asked.
“What’s wrong?” Bluebell asked.
“Mirror,” Relish said. “Find a mirror.”
Getting the words out made the pain recede a little. But his children were watching him as if he were crazy. He kept his hands clasped to his head, and he wandered away from the prison, down the towpath toward Beantown.
The pain made his eyes water and he stumbled forward for what seemed like a very long time. After a while, he realized he was mumbling, “Mirror. Find a mirror.”
His children were following him, asking idiot questions. What else could he expect? Support?
“Are you all right, Dad?” Burly asked.
He tried to answer, but all that came out was, “Mirror. Mirror.”
They were in Beantown now. He recognized it through the haze of pain. People were moving out of his way as if they’d never seen a Troll before. Probably not a Troll under a spell
He staggered until he saw a tailor’s shop. They would have a mirror. He shoved the door open and shouted, “Everybody out. Now.”
A dwarf and a tailor ran outside. Relish didn’t see anyone else in the small space. But there was a mirror. He pulled the door closed so that his children didn’t come in, and then he went to the mirror.
Its surface rippled and finally revealed the Queen. She was standing in her palace bedroom, her hands clasped before her.
“Thank you so much for joining me,” the Queen said.
His headache and the compulsion were gone, leaving only a faint tinge of embarrassment.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Relish said. “Or I’ll kill you.”
A new pain shot through his face, and his nose exploded as if he’d been punched. He put a finger up to it. It was bleeding. “Well?” the Queen asked.
He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. She’d pay for this. Only he knew better than to say that aloud this time. “Well, what?”
“Have your children got the dog for me?”
His embarrassment grew, but so did his fury. She had no right to order him around like this. “Not exactly,” he said.
“You do surprise me, Your Majesty,” the Queen said. “How did he possibly escape your tiny little grasp?”
“Don’t you talk to me like that!” Relish shouted.
“He must be caught,” the Queen said. “Send your children after him. And what are you doing still in Wendell’s kingdom? Return to your palace and await my further orders.”
“I do not take orders from y—”
But she had already vanished. All the mirror showed him was his own furious, blood-spattered face.
Chapter Eighteen
Wolf sat on the bow of the ship, his legs stretched out before him. The setting sun reflected off the water, and the river had a strong algae smell. He had to squint to read, but he continued. The books were helping him. He knew it.
Virginia sat beside him, clutching the magic shoes. She hadn’t let them out of her grasp since she took them off. The addiction was getting worse.
“Virginia,” Wolf asked, “would you say you were ‘desperately hungry for love and approval, but destined for rejection?’ ”
“I’m quite happy as I am, thank you.”
He smiled at her. She smiled back trustingly. Then he attacked. He grabbed the shoes and, in a single movement, threw them overboard.
“No!” Virginia shouted. “No, no—”
She got to her feet and was about to dive in after them, when he grabbed her around the waist. She was stronger than she should have been and she whipped him back and forth for a moment before he managed to hold her down.
“What did you do that for?” She sounded like a child who’d had her favorite toy broken.
“I had to,” Wolf said. “For your own good.”
She struggled against his hands. ‘You threw away my shoes!”
“You were already dreaming of wearing them tonight, weren’t you?” Wolf asked.
“Yes,” Virginia said. “How did you know that?”
She stopped struggling and f
or the first time that day looked at him with clear eyes. She was coming back. He liked that.
“Magic is very nice,” Wolf said, “but it’s very easy to get addicted.”
She glanced at the water. She was obviously still addicted, but it was wearing off. It would only be a matter of time.
“But why didn’t you want them?” Virginia asked. “Why were you able to resist the shoes and I wasn’t?”
Good question, and one he wasn’t sure he should answer. But he did, as honestly as he could.
“Because,” he said gently, “you have such a strong desire to be invisible.”
Tony stood a few feet away, Prince Wendell at his side. Prince Wendell had been watching Wolf and Virginia. Tony had been taking deep breaths. He’d never enjoyed freedom so much before. It really was true. A person did take things for granted until those things were taken from him. Never again would he complain about his job or his life or Mr. Murray. Well, maybe Mr. Murray if the old fart had reverted back to normal. But nothing else.
“Anthony,” Prince Wendell said, “if you value the safety of your daughter, then we must get rid of this Wolf immediately. He’ll have her for breakfast.”
Tony frowned. At that moment, Wolf looked at him. Tony himself wasn’t sure whether or not to trust this guy. After all, he had given him the magic bean—which turned out to be dragon dung. Tony shivered. That experience hadn’t been what the fairy tales said it would. Except it did allow him to talk to Prince Wendell, for whatever that was worth.
Wolf raised his eyebrows as if questioning Tony’s intensity.
“Prince says he doesn’t trust you,” Tony said to Wolf.
“I don’t trust him either,” Wolf said. “A dog is a wolf crossed with an old pillow. They are tail wagging slipper collectors. And wolves can be shot on sight in his miserable kingdom.”
“Chicken rustlers,” Prince Wendell said. “Granny eaters, shepherdess worriers. Name me one story where the wolf is a good guy.”
“What’s he done so far, apart from get you in trouble?” Wolf asked. “Nothing. Whereas I have saved your life so many times I’ve stopped counting. Dogs zero, Wolf thirty-seven thousand, as far as I can see.”
Tony sighed. This wouldn’t help. And Virginia, for all her struggles, seemed to like both Wolf and Prince Wendell. Right now, Tony believed, they needed both man-animal hybrids. He shook his head at the thought, one he’d never have had in New York, and shoved his cold hands into the pocket of his very soiled jacket.
There was something in the left pocket. He pulled it out. ft was the carving Clay Face had given him. Tony looked at it properly for the first time.
It was a tiny heroic statue that reminded him faintly of the one of the guys raising the flag at Iwo Jima. Only this one had no flag. Just two men, a woman, and a dog. Beneath it were the words: The Four Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms.
Tony stared at it. He shook his head, just a little. He didn’t want to think about it. In fact, the little statue gave him the creeps. With a sharp movement of his hand, he flung it overboard.
It floated away, leaving a slightly soapy residue on the surface of the water.
“What was that?” Prince Wendell asked.
“Nothing,” Tony said as he watched the carving float away in the growing darkness. “Nothing at all.”
Relish the Troll King carried a torch and led one of his huge dogs on a lead. Who’d have thought Beantown rolled up the sidewalks at dark? He glanced over his shoulder. His henchmen were kicking at shop doors, overturning barrels, egging on the dogs. That was ail well and good-—a mild evening’s entertainment—but it wouldn’t last them for an entire week.
He should have thought of that before making Beantown his home base.
The little Mayor of Beantown, with a self-important strut, hurried up to Relish.
‘ ‘I insist you leave,’ ’ the Mayor said. ‘ ‘Trolls are not allowed in the Fourth Kingdom without proper permits. This is a gross violation of the Nine Kingdoms Treaty.”
“Shut your mouth,” Relish growled.
That should have flipped out the Mayor, but he was too dense to notice a warning when he heard it. He said in his wobbly little voice, ‘ ‘Unless you leave this instant, I shall notify Prince Wendell. And soldiers will be sent.”
Relish looked at the self-important creature before him. They could argue the night away, but that wouldn’t be entertaining at all. Better to let the idiot know who was boss.
With a quick right cross, he punched the Mayor. The Mayor’s flesh felt soft against Relish’s knuckles, and the self-important idiot fell backwards, unconscious from the first blow. If that was the kind of resistance they’d find in Beantown, then this place would be even less entertaining than Relish thought. And he hadn’t had high hopes.
He turned and saw the preparations for Wendell’s coronation. The flags, the banners, the pretty throne that someone had done up all because the Prince had come of age.
Beantown residents were staring at Relish as if he’d done something horrible. He grinned. They hadn’t seen horrible yet.
He walked to the podium and hesitated for a brief, dramatic second, knowing the effect this would have on his audience. Then, with a flourish, he sat on the throne.
There were gasps from all sides.
He leaned forward and said in his most official voice, “I am declaring war on the Fourth Kingdom, and I challenge
Prince Wendell to come and face me within seven days, or I will claim his kingdom as my own.”
That should put the Queen’s twist in a bundle. Not to mention Wendell’s, if news of this reached his poor little doggie ears. Relish grinned. Then he tilted his head back and indulged in his most evil laugh.
Virginia put a hand to her eyes as she climbed onto the deck in the early morning light. She had a slight hangover, which she would not mention to Wolf. He was steering the boat, but he noticed her arrival on deck. He was watching her with a wariness that showed her he anticipated this reaction. So she gave him a different one.
“Everything’s soaking wet down there,” she said. “I didn’t sleep a wink.”
“You should have joined me on deck, sleeping under the stars,” Wolf said. “It was quite magnificent.”
He closed another self-help book, its spine horribly creased—did he always have to break the spines of the books?—and then tossed it overboard. Virginia watched it go. She guessed it didn’t matter now that he’d broken the spines. The water would do even more damage.
“Are we in Wendell’s kingdom now?” Virginia asked. “Or the Troll Kingdom?”
“Neither,” Wolf said. “This river divides the two. The left bank is the Trolls’, the right bank Wendell’s.”
Virginia looked at Wendell’s side of the river. A group of anglers stood there. They didn’t look like expert fishermen. Instead, they looked like thugs. They had anxious, angry expressions that seemed incongruous with everything she knew about fishing.
Virginia’s father had come up from below decks. He was standing beside her, looking at the fishermen just as she was.
“Must be a lot of fish around here with all these anglers,” he said.
“No, just the one,” Wolf said.
“The one?” Tony asked.
“There is only one fish in the whole of this river,” Wolf said.
“Let me guess,” Virginia said. “Is it magic?”
“Oh, Virginia,” Wolf said, “is it magic? Every year, around this time, some lucky fisherman catches the fish, and if he agrees to throw it back, then the next thing he touches with his little finger will turn to gold.”
Virginia sighed. She now knew where this was going. “Gold?” Tony asked. “A man could touch anything?” “Exactly,” Wolf said.
“You could turn a mountain into gold,” Tony said, starting to get really excited.
“Indeed you could,” Wolf said.
“Dad, no,” Virginia said.
“Wait a minute,” Tony said. “I just thought of som
ething. What if you catch the fish, and now you’re Goldfinger, but you forget and touch your forehead, or swat a mosquito on your Jgg or something?”
“Then you become one of the many aquatic statues called ‘The Gold Anglers Who Line the Bottom of the River,’ ’’Wolf said. “Look down and you may be able to see one.”
“Boy,” Tony said, “you want to be careful with this fish.” “That’s right,” Wolf said. “In fact, you’d do better to steer well clear of it.”
“There isn’t a fish in the world Tony Lewis can’t catch.” Virginia hoped that was one of her father’s exaggerations. Because she was beginning to believe Wolf was right. Magic was dangerous. Especially in the wrong hands.
Like her father’s.
Blabberwort was rowing. Her brothers were rowing. And it felt good. The magical music from the magical box made everything seem easier. She was singing at the top of her lungs. So were Burly and Bluebell. Bluebell was getting so into it that he removed his jacket and was starting on his shirt when the music began to sound odd.
It slowed down. It made wo-ow sounds. It was going bad. She picked up the box and shook it, but that only seemed to make the sounds worse. Bluebell’s eyes widened in panic. They all knew what happened when magic went bad.
She tossed the black box overboard. ‘ ‘Their magic is useless. The Brothers Gibb. Hah!”
Suddenly rowing wasn’t nearly as much fun.
“Row faster,” Burly said. “Faster.”
“But we’ve rowed all night long,” Bluebell said. “Bluebell,” Blabberwort said, “stop eating your head lice.”
“I wasn’t chewing,” Bluebell said. “I was just putting them under my tongue.”
“Row faster,” Burly said. “Faster.”
“Lookee look,” Blabberwort said, pointing at something in the water. “Over there.”
She reached into the water and fished out a book. But it was unlike any book she had ever seen—except in the Tenth Kingdom. She frowned at it. Women Who Love Too Much. Hmm, she thought. That sounded interesting. It might take some study....
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