The Wide-Awake Princess Page 4

  “Fenley’s never going to stop complaining about those thorns.”

  “Shaddup, Twitch! You’ll be the first to have a go at them the next time she makes us try. Then we’ll see who’s laughing when we pull the thorns out of your pudgy self.”

  “The old bat won’t make us try to go in there again. My bet is once she sees that the princess is trapped like everybody else, she’ll forget about this castle and build a new one somewhere else. That’s what I would do.”

  “Is that bacon almost ready? I likes it limp, not that burnt stuff you always make.”

  Annie crept away, careful not to make a sound while the men argued behind her. There wasn’t a minute to waste. She had to get Digby to come kiss Gwendolyn as soon as she could. The sooner her father woke up, the sooner he could chase away the interlopers before they could do any real damage. It sounded as if a woman had sent them, although she couldn’t imagine who. Voracia wouldn’t need men like that to do her work for her. But if it wasn’t the wicked fairy, then who could it be?

  Annie decided not to go to the town after all. If the woman didn’t know that Annie had left the castle, she might think she had a lot more time to do whatever it was she had planned and not be in a hurry to do it. Realizing that by not talking to the townspeople, Annie might be buying her father a little more time, she turned away from the road to the village and headed east to Shimshee, the kingdom where Digby’s family ruled.

  Because much of Annie’s childhood had been spent exploring the land around the castle, she knew this part of the forest, including the location of a little-traveled path that would take her in the general direction that she wanted to go. She walked for most of the morning and didn’t stop even when her stomach started to growl. Taking out the bread and cheese she had packed in the satchel, she continued to walk even as she tore off a hunk of each. Intent on putting the rest away, she didn’t notice the old woman standing in her path until she’d almost run into her.

  “You wouldn’t have any food to spare for a starving old woman, would you, dearie?” the old woman asked. “It’s been three days since I had my last bite to eat and I—”

  “Sure,” said Annie, who was more concerned with getting to Shimshee than she was in talking to strangers. “Here,” she said, handing her the food she’d already torn off. “I’m sorry I can’t stay to talk, but I’m in a hurry and—”

  “I ask for food and you give me this?” the old woman said, sniffing the cheese and looking at it with disdain. “I wouldn’t give this to my dog, if I had one.”

  Annie watched aghast as the old woman pitched the bread and cheese into the underbrush. “That was perfectly good food!” Annie exclaimed. “I was about to eat that myself.”

  “Liar!” said the old woman. “You probably have the good stuff hidden in your satchel. And for refusing to be kind to an old woman in need...”

  “I gave you my lunch!” said Annie.

  “You will have to pay!” the woman concluded as she raised her hand and pointed one gnarled finger.

  “You really don’t want to do that,” Annie told her. The old woman was already chanting something ominous about words and snakes when Annie brushed past her. “I don’t have time for this,” she said as she walked away. The sound of rattling bones reached her ears just before the magic hit her and bounced back to the old woman. There was an anguished cry and Annie glanced over her shoulder. Frogs, snakes, and lizards spilled from the old woman’s mouth as she tried to scream at Annie.

  “You can’t say that I didn’t warn you,” Annie said, and hurried on her way.

  CHAPTER 4

  AN HOUR LATER, Annie reached unfamiliar ground. She stayed on the path she thought would take her to the branch of the Crystal River that led toward Shimshee, but by late afternoon she was no longer so certain. Although the path seemed to be going in the right direction, she had yet to see or hear running water. She began to wonder if she was lost. By the time the sun began to sink behind the trees, she was sure of it.

  A wolf howled somewhere in the forest and Annie remembered the story she’d heard about a wolf following a little girl and eating her grandmother. She was considering climbing a tree for the night when she smelled wood smoke. Hoping to find the home of a woodcutter, she hurried toward the source of the smoke and entered a clearing, where she found a small cottage that hummed with magic. The candles flickering in the window looked ordinary enough and the magic didn’t sound like the nasty kind, so Annie tiptoed to the window and peeked inside.

  An old woman with white hair and the plump, sweet face of a kindly old grandmother carried food to two small children seated at a wide plank table. She used a cane when she walked, shuffling across the floor with an unsteady gait. When Annie bumped into the shutter, breaking off a corner, the children turned in their seats and stared at her through big, dark eyes set in pale faces. They were beautiful children with silky hair the color of walnuts and dark lashes framing their eyes, but their cheeks were dirty and tear streaked, and their clothes were soiled and torn. The boy looked as if he was a few years older than the girl, but their features were similar enough that Annie thought they must be siblings.

  The boy and girl appeared frightened at first, but when they saw Annie they looked at her for only a moment before shifting their attention back to the food on the table. The old woman had seen them turn their heads and had followed their gaze to Annie. She smiled now and said in a playful voice, “Nibble, nibble, little mouse. Who’s that nibbling at my house?”

  “I wasn’t nibbling,” Annie replied. “I just wanted to see if anyone was home.”

  “I’m here, so you’re welcome to come in. Children are always welcome, especially if they’re tired and hungry. I have some very yummy food cooking. It’s... What did I tell you it was, little boy?”

  “Rabbit stew.”

  “That’s right. And I’m just about to take a nice berry pie out of the oven. Come in, my dear, and make yourself at home.”

  Annie’s foot bumped something as she began to move away from the window. She bent down to see what it was and found a large chunk of striped candy. Picking it up, she realized that it was the piece of the shutter that had broken off. The air smelled like nutmeg and ginger. When she looked closer, she saw that the walls were made of gingerbread decorated with sugar dots and icing swirls.

  Annie frowned as she walked toward the open door. The humming of the magic was constant and reminded her of an old lullaby. It also reminded her that the old woman was probably a witch, yet there was no indication that she was a bad witch, at least none that Annie could hear.

  “Just call me Granny Bentbone, dear. So many people do.”

  “I’m Charlie,” Annie replied, hoping that the clothing she wore made her look enough like a boy to make the name believable.

  “Are you hungry, my sweet? I’m sure you must be,” the woman said, ushering Annie into the cozy kitchen. “I’ve cooked... what is it again?”

  “Rabbit stew,” said the boy.

  Annie paused for a moment to admire a peppermint stick that rose from floor to ceiling. It was as big around as her waist and looked like a support post put there to hold up the roof. She glanced up and saw that other sticks acted as beams to support the candy ceiling.

  “Won’t you join us, dear?” The woman gestured to a stool next to the one where the little girl was perched. The stools and the table were shorter than normal, as if they had been built for children or dwarves with small bottoms. Annie smiled at the little girl as she sat down. The girl’s lips parted in a shy smile, showing the gap of missing teeth. Seated on the other side of the girl, the boy nudged her and placed another piece of bread on her trencher, drawing her attention away from Annie.

  Something scrabbled at the floor on the far side of the room and Annie raised her head to look around. A ladder led up to a loft across from where she was sitting. A wide cupboard painted a cheery yellow with a green vine and red and blue flowers stood beside a fireplace where a crackling f
ire burned. A metal door on the other side of the fireplace covered the opening for an oven big enough to fit a small ox. On the floor near the oven door there was a woven basket. Inside the basket a gray-furred animal lay staring up at Annie with beady eyes that didn’t blink. It had a sharp little twitchy nose and whiskers that quivered with every breath.

  “That’s the biggest rat I’ve ever seen,” Annie said under her breath.

  Granny Bentbone saw where Annie was looking. “That’s my little dog… What’s his name again? Just a minute, dear.” The old woman walked along the wall, eyeing it closely, until she stopped suddenly and said, “I think it’s... Yes, that’s it. He’s Fluffy. I need to feed him.”

  “He bites!” whispered the little girl, looking solemn.

  “I bet!” Annie said, and the little girl giggled.

  While Granny Bentbone cut a chunk from a wheel of cheese and set it in a dish for Fluffy, Annie peered at the wall, puzzled by the way the woman had been studying it. And then she saw them—little candy hearts, some made of pink sugar, some of yellow. They were everywhere and they all seemed to have something written on them. Annie leaned toward the one closest to her. It read:

  Brush your teeth before you go to bed.

  “Interesting,” Annie murmured.

  The little boy had been watching Annie. “She forgets things a lot,” he whispered. “She reads those hearts and they tell her what to do. Sometimes she remembers things, but then she forgets them again. Can you read? We can’t, although I wish I could. I’d like to know what some of those hearts say.”

  “So would I,” Annie whispered back. The writing on the hearts was so small that she could read only those closest to her. The wall on the opposite side of the room sported dozens, some of which were covered with the tiny writing.

  Granny Bentbone was carrying a mug to the cupboard when she said, “You must be lost. So many are. That’s why they come this far into the forest.”

  Annie turned to the children seated beside her. “Were you lost?”

  The little boy nodded. “I’m Tomas and this is my sister, Clara. We’re here because of our new stepmother. She said we eat too much and didn’t leave enough for her children, Poopsie and Wiggles.”

  “Why would anyone name their children Poopsie and Wiggles?” asked Annie.

  “They are dogs,” said Tomas. “She just calls them her children. She gave them our food to eat and put our clothes on them and called them by our names, then took us for walkies in the woods and left us there.”

  “We waited for Papa to come get us, but he never did,” said the little girl. “So we started walking until we saw this cottage.”

  Fluffy brushed past Annie’s legs. She grimaced and pulled her legs back, then watched him waddle to the peppermint stick post, which he began to gnaw.

  “Papa probably hasn’t noticed we’re gone yet,” Tomas told Annie. “He leaves every morning before the sun comes up and gets home after we would be in bed.”

  “Do you need someone to help you find your way back?” Annie asked. She was in a hurry to get to Shimshee, but if their cottage wasn’t too far out of her way...

  “We don’t want to go back,” said the girl. She yawned and rubbed her eyes with her fists.

  “Papa wasn’t our real father,” said Tomas. “Our real father lived in a castle. Papa stole us away when Clara was just a baby. That’s where we’re going now—to find our real father.”

  “Don’t lie, Tomas,” Clara told him. “Papa will take a strap to you again if he finds out you’ve been telling fibs.”

  The little boy looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he glanced from his sister to Annie and Granny Bentbone before turning his face away.

  “I’ve invited them to stay here with me,” said Granny Bentbone.

  Annie watched the old woman pick up a big bowl of rabbit stew. She was carrying it to the table when she staggered and nearly fell. “Fluffy!” she said, wagging her finger at the rat. “You have to stay out of my way. I’m too old for such shenanigans.”

  “Maybe he needs to go out,” said Annie. “Our dogs at home like a little exercise before they go to bed.”

  “What a good idea!” said Granny Bentbone. “Come along, Fluffy. A little fresh air will do us both good.”

  Annie waited until the old woman had shooed her “dog” outside, then she sprang to her feet and ran to the wall. She was curious about the candy hearts; reading them might be a good way to learn about Granny Bent-bone. The first few weren’t much help.

  Remember to feed Fluffy!

  If you are hungry—eat!

  You sit on the white pot.

  You cook with the black pot.

  If children come to the cottage, invite them in.

  Do not let adults in!

  “That’s odd,” Annie said to herself. “Is she afraid of something?” The next heart was a reminder that the dog was named Fluffy. The note after that made Annie feel as if a cold finger were tracing her spine.

  When children come to the cottage,

  lock them in the cages at night.

  “And this woman does what these things say? That’s horrible!” It took Annie only a moment to peel the candy heart off the wall and stuff it into her pocket. Hearing Granny Bentbone at the door talking to Fluffy, she knew that she didn’t have long to read, and there were still dozens of candy hearts on the wall.

  A heart on a door leading off from the kitchen simply read Cages. The next heart was bigger than the rest, as if it was more important.

  Look in the room marked “cages.”

  If there is a child in there–feed it.

  You want it to be fat.

  If it is fat, cook it.

  Annie shuddered and glanced at the children sitting at the table. The food piled on the plates in front of them suddenly had a new and horrible significance. She broke her fingernail peeling the big heart off the wall and crushed it into dust once it was in her pocket. The door was already opening when she peeled off one last candy heart.

  Find recipes for children in the big

  blue book in the cupboard.

  Annie shoved the candy heart into her pocket even as she hurried back to her seat. She broke it with her thumbnail and crumbled it while Granny Bentbone came back into the house alone.

  Clara stopped licking the icing off a piece of cake long enough to ask, “Where’s Fluffy?”

  “Who?” asked Granny Bentbone. She stared at the children, puzzled. “What are you doing here? Do I know you?”

  “It’s us, Granny Bentbone,” said Annie as she got to her feet. “Charlie and Tomas and Clara. You said we should go to bed in the loft upstairs, remember? We were just waiting to say good night.”

  “Oh, yes. I remember now. Good night, children.”

  “But…,” said Clara.

  “Good night, Granny,” said Annie as she pulled the children from their seats. When Clara tried to protest, Annie shushed her, saying, “If you go to bed now, I’ll tell you a story.”

  Tomas saw the look on Annie’s face. “Let’s go, Clara,” he said, and helped Annie get his little sister up the ladder.

  Annie had brought a candle from the table, and after closing the trapdoor, she used the candle’s light to find her way around the loft. There were no beds, nor had she really expected to find any, but there were baskets of well-worn clothes and a few old toys.

  “Where are we going to sleep?” asked Clara, scrubbing at her sleepy eyes with her knuckles. “I want to go see Granny Bentbone.”

  “You’ll see her in the morning,” said Annie. “Granny Bentbone is going to bed now, too.”

  While the children watched, Annie moved the baskets out of the way. Taking clothes from the baskets, she spread them on the floor so that the children could lie down. “There you go,” she said, helping Clara onto the makeshift bed. “That’s much better than sleeping on the ground outside. Here, I found this.” She handed the little girl a doll.

  The doll’s clothes w
ere soiled and it was missing one arm, but Clara looked as if she’d been given a treasure. Her entire face lit up and she took the doll, clutching it to her chest. Her eyelids were drifting shut when Annie covered her with an old cloak, and she was asleep before Annie kissed her on the cheek.

  “So much for a bedtime story,” Annie murmured. “Tomas,” she said, looking up. “I need to talk to you.”

  Tomas followed her to the other side of the loft, picking his way just as quietly around the baskets. “I read some of those hearts,” Annie whispered. “Granny Bent-bone is not a good person. She means to hurt us if we stay here. We have to leave at first light.”

  “Why don’t we leave now?” asked Tomas.

  “Where would we go? It isn’t safe in the woods at night. We’ll be fine here until morning. Granny Bent-bone can’t climb a ladder with that cane. Besides, there’s something I have to do after she goes to sleep.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Annie shook her head. “I need you to stay here and take care of Clara. She’d be frightened if she woke up and found that she was alone. You should lie down and rest. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “What if you aren’t?” Tomas asked, his voice wavering.

  “Then you take Clara out of here as soon as you hear the birds singing outside and run as far from this cottage as you can. But don’t worry. I promise I’ll be back.”

  Tomas didn’t look as if he believed her, so after tucking him in beside Clara, Annie assured him again, then didn’t leave until he had fallen asleep as well.

  When it had been quiet downstairs for some time, Annie crept to the trapdoor and lifted it ever so slowly. The only light came from the fire in the fireplace and a candle that Granny Bentbone had forgotten to blow out. No one was there, so Annie climbed down the ladder, pausing at each rung to listen for even the smallest sound.

  Picking up the candle, she tiptoed to the door marked “Cages” and took a deep breath. Annie opened the door a crack. When she didn’t hear anything, she pushed it wider and exhaled in a sigh of relief. There were four big cages in the room and all of them were empty.