The 10th Kingdom

by Kathryn Wesley

  But that was silly. She tested it, and when she turned back around, he was only six feet away. She glanced at the path to see if she could escape, and now he was only three feet away.

  She didn’t want him to get any closer. She was afraid of what he would do.

  She was afraid of what she would do.

  She stared at him, and didn’t move.

  She didn’t move at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A hand over her mouth awoke Virginia. She opened her eyes and was startled to see Wolf so close. For a moment, she was back in her dream. He must have seen the panic in her eyes, for he held his hand in place a moment longer than he probably should have.

  Her father was gathering their things. A bit of light had seeped into the clearing. It was dawn. But the Gypsies still slept. Virginia sat up. Wolf put a finger to his lips just in case she didn’t understand the importance of remaining silent. But she did. She wanted to get out of there as much as he did.

  She finger-combed her hair, wished for a toothbrush, and dusted herself off. Her father already had Prince Wendell and his little cart pointed in the right direction; Virginia could only hope that the cart’s squeaking wheels didn’t wake up the Gypsies. Wolf and her father apparently had the same thought. They started to carry Prince Wendell out of camp.

  “Set us free,” one of the magic birds said. “Please set us free.”

  Virginia looked over her shoulder. Wolf and her father had Wendell safely out of earshot. She glanced at the birds. Their tiny bodies were pressed against the cages.

  They’d have their wings broken, or worse. All because of what they were.

  She couldn’t stand it. She’d never be able to live with herself. Quickly she opened the cages, and the birds flew free.

  “Virginia,” Wolf whispered.

  Virginia heard him, but she pretended she didn’t. There were a lot of cages, and a lot of birds. She knew she was ruining someone’s work, but she didn’t care.

  Lives were at stake.

  She had gotten ail the cages. And then she looked at the Gypsy Queen’s caravan. One more cage bung over the door.

  “Oh, no, please,” Tony said to her. “That’s enough.”

  He was right. But that single birdcage would bother her as much as all the others did. She bit her lower lip. Three wooden steps led to the door. She climbed the stairs carefully, trying to avoid the creaks she knew were there. When she reached the stoop, she reached up. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach the cage door. For a moment, her fingers brushed against the catch. Then they hit it, and the door opened.

  The magic bird flew off, but Virginia slipped. Her foot banged down on the steps. The force of her landing sounded like a gunshot in the still air.

  She turned just as the caravan door ripped open. A Gypsy she had never seen before started after her. Virginia ran as fast as she could. The Gypsy was yelling and the others were waking up. She only had a short lead.

  She followed Wolf and her father’s path into the forest, but she couldn’t see them. She knew they had seen what she did. Were they hiding?

  Behind her, the Gypsies pounded through the woods, obviously not caring about how loud they were. Virginia stopped for a brief second; she had to figure out which way Wolf and her father had gone.

  Something caught her ankle. She looked down, fearing it was a trap. Then the something yanked. She fell, sliding down a bank. Wolf pulled her close as the Gypsies ran past.

  She was beneath a river bank overhang. The river flowed below them. The dirt had gotten into the back of her shirt. She was breathing hard, and Wolf put a finger to his lips for silence. She was trying, she really was, but she needed air.

  “They can’t have got away,” a Gypsy said above them. “Search around for them. They’re hiding somewhere.”

  Virginia’s throat went dry. They weren’t hiding that well.

  She could hear the Gypsies in the underbrush, snapping twigs, calling to each other. She pressed herself deeper into the bank, and so did her father and Wolf.

  Dirt drifted down on them. A Gypsy was above them. Virginia closed her eyes. Then she heard the Gypsy Queen’s voice, faint and reedy. The Gypsy above them cursed. More dirt fell, and then Virginia heard the sounds of Gypsies moving away from them.

  The woods got very silent. Virginia opened her eyes. Wolf was frowning. Her father was still hugging Wendell. If the prince were alive, Virginia wondered how he felt about all this dragging around.

  Wolf motioned to them to be silent. Then he climbed up the bank and disappeared.

  A moment later he returned. Virginia’s father turned on him. “What did you do that for?”

  Wolf didn’t answer, at least not directly. He dusted himself off and shook his head. “I don’t understand. The old woman has called off the hunt.”

  For some reason that news didn’t make Virginia happy. She felt the way Wolf obviously did—the Gypsies wouldn’t have called off the search without a reason.

  Her father moved away from the bank. “Maybe we just got lucky,” he said. “Let’s get going. The sooner we’re out j of this forest, the better. Help me carry Prince until we get j back on the path.”

  Wolf looked at Prince Wendell with an antipathy that he hadn’t shown before, although Virginia knew he had felt it.

  “Can’t we bury him?” Wolf asked. “We can always come back some time in the future.”

  “I’m not leaving him,” Tony said. “I got him into this j mess, and I’ll get him out.”

  Virginia smiled. Her father really was a gentle man, even though he was the world’s biggest screw-up.

  But Wolf wasn’t thinking about Prince Wendell. Wolf was looking over his shoulder toward the Gypsy camp.

  “I wish I knew why they gave up so easily,” Wolf said. “That’s not like Gypsies at all.”

  The Gypsy Queen stared at the empty birdcage above her caravan door. Seven years of work ruined. And to think she had shown the travelers kindness. They had shown their true natures this morning.

  She took out the pot that contained a lock of Virginia’s hair and sprinkled gray powder over it. The liquid caught fire even quicker than she expected it too.

  The Gypsy Queen closed her eyes and began to recite: “Stretch it, twist it, make it grow. Like a river, make it flow. Make it pull and pinch and tweak. Make it grow ’til she grows weak. Make her moan and scream and cry. Make her wish that she would die.”

  Then she opened her eyes and watched the lock of hair bum. People should never take advantage of a Gypsy’s kindness—no matter who they were.

  Wolf felt uneasy. The hackles on his neck had risen and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t just the Gypsies. He knew they were no longer chasing the group, but he didn’t know why. Perhaps that was what disturbed him so much—the not knowing why.

  He led the others through the forest. The squeak-squeak-squeak of the cart wheels was really beginning to annoy him. Prince Wendell was a giant hunk of gold and an even bigger pain in the rear end. Tony wasn’t capable of making this better. Knowing Tony’s propensity for messing up, he would only make things worse.

  Still, he wasn’t responding to Wolf’s not-so-subtle hints to get rid of Prince Wendell. In fact, Tony was acting just a little bit strange. He kept glancing at Virginia, a small frown on his face.

  Virginia must have noticed it too, because she glared at her father. “What are you looking at me for?”

  “Your hair looks different,” Tony said.

  “Right,” Virginia said. “That’s because I went to the beautician last night.”

  “No, it’s grown,” Tony said.

  “Grown?”

  Wolf looked at it too and jumped back in shock. “So it has,” he said.

  It hadn’t grown a little bit. It had grown a lot. Virginia reached to her skull and touched her hair. She frowned. She didn’t know what was going on, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her.

  Wolf glanced at Tony, who raised his eyebrows for an explanatio
n Wolf wasn’t yet ready to give. Instead he led them forward.

  They walked for nearly an hour when Wolf saw a small pond up ahead. Virginia saw it too, and rushed to it. She bent over and stared in it.

  Her hair had grown to the middle of her back.

  “Oh, no,” Virginia said. “It’s even longer than it was a half hour ago. It’s growing all the time. What’s happening to me? What am I going to do?”

  “Braid it?” Tony said.

  Wolf closed his eyes. He had to tell her now.

  “The Gypsies,” he said. “They had some of your hair. They have cursed you.”

  “What do you mean, cursed?” Virginia demanded. “Stop it. This is really freaking me out.”

  It wasn’t his fault. Although he would probably be as upset as she was if his hair started growing like that.

  He removed his knife from his pocket and held it out, silently asking her if he could cut her hair. She nodded, frightened, as if her hair were an alien thing that clung to her head instead of a part of her.

  He hacked at the hair with the knife, but it was like trying to cut stone.

  “Here, let me try,” Tony said.

  Wolf handed him the knife, then leaned back to watch. Virginia’s hair was growing fast. It was nearly to her knees.

  Tony sawed at her hair for several minutes, then shook his head. “It’s no good,” he said. “It won’t cut. It’s like steel.”

  “Maybe the knife is blunt,” Virginia said.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the knife,” Wolf said. “It’s the curse.”

  “It’s horrible,” Virginia said. “I can feel it growing.”

  “Well,” Tony said, “it never would have happened if you hadn’t tried to play Miss Francis of Assisi.”

  “Shut up,” Virginia said. Then she turned to Wolf. “How do we stop it? How do you uncurse me?”

  “Curses are not my strong suit,” Wolf said.

  “Try pulling just one hair out,” Tony said.

  Wolf grabbed a single hair and tugged.

  “Ow!” Virginia said after a moment. “Stop it.”

  “It won’t budge,” Wolf said.

  “If we help gather it up,” Tony said, “we could wrap it around you like a scarf.”

  Wolf gathered it. There was a lot of hair and it was very soft. Fragrant. Beautiful even in its length. But he knew better than to tell Virginia that. Right now, she was too upset.

  He wrapped the hair around her, resisted the urge to kiss her furrowed brow, and then led them deeper into the forest.

  They walked for some time, occasionally stopping to get Wendell out of a rut in the road or to wrap Virginia’s hair around her neck again. She was becoming a walking dress of hair. It was somewhat erotic.

  Wolf kept that thought to himself as well.

  Then thunder boomed overhead. Virginia moaned. Wolf looked up, and as he did, a sheet of rain fell from the sky as if some mighty being had poured it from a bucket.

  He waved Tony forward—he wanted to keep an eye on Tony and Prince Wendell, figuring that in this mud, they’d get stuck—and he let Virginia shuffle past him.

  She looked depressed, almost as if she had given up hope. Perhaps he should say something nice about the hair just so that she could yell at him.

  Some of the hair was dragging behind her. He said nothing, just picked it up and carried it as though it were a train.

  “You’re jerking it,” Virginia said without turning around.

  “Sorry,” Wolf said. “It’s not easy. You’ve got a lot of split ends.”

  “How long is it now?” Tony asked.

  “Don’t ask,” Wolf said.

  The rain was really coming down now. Prince Wendell was spattered with mud, and Wolf couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten this wet.

  Virginia’s hair was much heavier wet. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like to her

  “I can’t go any farther,” Virginia said. “We’ve got to stop somewhere.”

  “Where will we find shelter in the middle of the for—” Then Wolf saw it. “Cripes, look.”

  He pointed to a small cabin almost hidden by trees. Lightning flared and thunder boomed. The cabin looked abandoned. But it did have a good roof.

  They ran to the door, Tony dragging Wendell behind him. The door was covered in white graffiti. Wolf had to kick it to get it to open. It fell back in a spray of dust and cobwebs.

  “Anyone home?” Virginia asked.

  They stepped inside. Everything was covered in misspelled graffiti, including several versions of the perennial favorite, Elves Suck. But that wasn’t what caught Wolf’s attention. His gaze landed on seven pewter mugs and seven tiny lamps. They were lined up as if someone still expected to use them, even though they were covered in eons of dust.

  “What's that stink?” Tony asked.

  “Trolls have been here,” Wolf said, ducking under the low roof. “They like to mark their territory, rather like—dogs.”

  “Trolls?”

  “It’s all right.” Wolf made sure the door was closed. The rain pounded on the ceiling. “No one’s been here for a long time.”

  Tony went up a small flight of stairs, leaving Wendell behind. Wolf looked at the seven tiny spoons and the seven tiny bowls. Virginia was trying to get the moisture out of her hair.

  “Hey, come look at this,” Tony called from above.

  Wolf and Virginia hurried up the stairs. There was a small hole in the roof and leaves had blown in. The upper level was damp.

  But Wolf didn’t give that more than a cursory glance. Instead he stared in gape-mouthed surprise at the seven tiny beds. They all were made of wood, and they all had little quilts and pillows. They were all perfectly straight and, even though they were covered with dust and leaves, they looked as if they were waiting for their little owners to return for a good night’s rest.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Tony said.

  Wolf grinned and stepped in deeper. He couldn’t help himself. A curious joy filled him.

  “This is Snow White’s cottage. Goodness gracious me, this is the Seven Dwarves’ house. It has been lost for a very long time.”

  His gaze met Virginia’s. She smiled at him. “Look at the beds,” she said. “They’re so tiny.”

  “This is a great piece of our history,” Wolf said. “What a pity the Prince is a stiff. This is his grandma’s cottage. Cripes.”

  He was beginning to feel pity for the mutt. That was bad.

  Still, he stood in this historic place for a moment longer before he saw Virginia shiver.

  “We have to get settled for the night, and get you dry,” he said to her.

  She nodded. Tony gave one last look to the room, then led them down the stairs. Wolf stayed up there alone for a moment. Then he slapped a wooden beam and grinned. Hardly anyone had seen this. And he’d been lucky enough to come here. That made this entire forest worthwhile.

  Then he went downstairs.

  It took nearly half an hour for him and Tony to clean up the downstairs and to barricade some furniture against the door. Virginia was trying to dry her hair with anything she could find. Finally, she gave up and used the wood piled next to the fireplace to build a fire.

  By the time Wolf figured out what she was doing, it was too late.

  “We shouldn’t really have a fire,” he said.

  “I don’t care.” Virginia held a thick strand of extremely long hair in front of the fire. “I’m not going to sleep with wet hair.”

  Wolf sat down next to her and started to help. He didn’t want her to set her head on fire. Tony collapsed in a chair. He looked tired too.

  “I can’t believe I’m asking this,” Tony said, “but what happened to Snow White after she married the Prince?’ ’

  Wolf looked up, surprised that Tony didn’t know. “She became a great ruler. One of the Five Women Who Changed History.”

  “Five women?” Virginia asked, clearly intrigued. “Who were the others?�
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  “Cinderella, Queen Riding Hood, Rapunzel, and Gretel the Great. They formed the first Five Kingdoms and brought peace throughout the lands. But they are long gone. Some say Cinderella is still alive, but she hasn’t been seen in public for nearly forty years. She would be nearly two hundred years old.” Wolf sighed and looked at the roaring fire. “The days of Happy Ever After are long gone. These are dark times.”

  Virginia was beginning to think her hair would never dry. Fortunately the new parts, the parts around her skull, were coming out dry.

  Her father had long ago gone to bed upstairs. He’d gotten Wolf’s help to put four of the tiny beds together so that he could spread out on them. Her father had placed Prince Wendell at the foot of one of the beds as if he were on watch.

  Virginia supposed she should go to bed too, but the fire still burned high, and the bulk of her hair was still wet. And she wasn’t that tired.

  Wolf was helping her dry the rest of her hair, holding up parts of it and studying it as if it were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. If the hair didn’t frighten her so, she would like that.

  But she wanted to think of something else. She leaned closer to the fire’s warmth.

  “What did you say to that boy?” she asked. “In the Gypsy camp?’ ’

  “Nothing much. Just wolf stuff.”

  “And what’s wolf stuff?”

  “I did not need to say anything to him,” Wolf said. “I just was with him. He had never seen another wolf. He was scared. It is a lonely path in life to be different. As you know.”

  She made herself smile.

  “Where’s your mum?”

  Virginia stiffened. What had made him ask that? “I have no idea. She walked out on us when I was seven.”

  Wolf didn’t seem to notice the chill in her voice. He said softly, “How sad to be left when you were so little.”

  Virginia resisted the urge to pull her hair out of his grasp. “I very rarely think about her, to be honest. She’s not really been part of my life.”

  “What happened?” Wolf rested his chin on his hand and turned toward her. His eyes seemed paler and warmer in the firelight.