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The dust and mildew made the flesh on her hands crawl and her nose itch, but the pants, the shirt, and the hat seemed sturdy enough -- despite their advanced age. She lifted them out of the trunk, set them to one side on the floor, and continued to look for boots.
She had no doubt she would find boots. The attic was about a quarter mile across and jammed full of trunks, objects, and other dusty, dirty things she didn't want to think about. For example, the large stuffed dragon in one corner seemed to watch her every move balefully. She avoided looking that way.
She had her head down in a trunk when she heard a tiny noise behind her. She decided to ignore it. The attic seemed to be full of creaks.
"What you doin'?"
She shrieked and straightened up, knocking her head on the trunk lid. She whirled and almost fell into the trunk.
A little girl ghost was standing in front of her. Her pulse went down, but she shivered, even though the child didn't look any older than three.
"I'm looking for boots," the Princess stammered.
"Ain't there!"
She looked down in the trunk. "How do you know?"
The child looked crafty. "Just know."
The Princess decided on a different tack. "What's your name?"
The child looked shy. "Amelia."
"How old are you, Amelia?"
Amelia giggled. "I used to be three-and-a-half, but now I can't go that high."
The Princess felt foolish. "Oh. Of course."
The child tugged at her arm. "Want to see where I died?" she said eagerly.
The Princess blanched. "No, not really."
Amelia kept tugging on her arm. "Won't show you where the boots are if you don't. An' you're not even hot!"
The Princess looked around the attic. The child could be right -- she could take forever to find a good pair of boots.
"You can show me," she said slowly.
"C'mon!" said the child.
They journeyed onward, and the Princess started going into shock. She was walking onwards only because of Amelia's tugging. She had thought the dragon in the corner was a fluke, but they passed stuffed birds, horses, deer, manticores, and unicorns. After the stuffed animal collection, they walked by four rows of coffins -- the Princess sincerely hoped they weren't occupied.
Amelia tugged her around a corner, and she almost fainted. A Beautiful Lady -- someone who looked like that deserved to be thought of in capital letters, the Princess thought later -- was staring at them. She shrieked, then felt foolish when she realized that the Lady was covered with dust.
"C'mon!" said the child.
"Who's that!" the princess said, gasping.
"Who--her?" Amelia said, barely glancing at the body. "That's a bad lady. She's under a 'chantment."
The Princess studied her. "Are you sure she's a bad Lady? She's smiling."
Amelia kicked the Lady. "I saw her kill a kitty." She looked up at the Princess. "Oh, 'n' she killed my daddy. That was before I died." She added. "But Master Willie got her!"
"Master Willie?"
"The wizard," she said reluctantly. "C'mon!"
They dodged around a few more boxes. Amelia pointed. "There."
The Princess couldn't see anything. "Where?" she said slowly.
"There!" the girl said, disgusted because the Princess couldn't see the obvious.
The Princess' face went white. The girl was pointing at a tiny slippered foot sticking out from under a large box. The slipper was in holes, and tiny bones were sticking out.
She swallowed and said, "Yes. I see. Now -- can you show me the boots?"
"No."
The Princess was hyperventilating. "Why not!"
"I want you to get my dolly." She turned a hopeful face on the Princess.
"Your doll is--" The Princess pointed.
"Yeah!"
She looked at the child and decided that yes, she really did want to leave that badly. "We'll have to empty the box, first." She found a dragon's tooth nearby, and looked at the lid. Princesses were not supposed to do manual labor like this – at least, that was what all of the stories said! She snorted and pried the lid open, then gasped. The box was full of knives and swords of every description.
Swords. She had forgotten about getting a sword, because Princesses weren't supposed to carry them. They just carried small, little, dull, heavily jeweled knives that were good for cleaning under fingernails. Which didn't make any sense to her, after what the Dragon had taught her.
She smiled. As she emptied the box, the little ghost waiting patiently nearby, she laid out about twenty swords that she could carry easily, planning to choose a good one later. As she reached the bottom of the box, she could see the scabbards, and she smiled again.
She leaned over the edge of the box, balanced on her hips. She couldn't quite reach them. She tried to reach a little bit further, and almost fell in. The little ghost giggled, then laughed. The Princess glared at her, then overbalanced backwards and landed on her back.
The little ghost pointed and laughed at her. The Princess looked down at herself, then smiled. Soon she was rolling on the floor, giggling.
When she stopped laughing she stared at the box speculatively. Might as well get what she was after. Shredding all pretense of dignity, she climbed into the box and threw out the scabbards. Then, using the dragon's tooth as a lever and another small box as a fulcrum, she lifted up the edge of the box, while the little ghost scampered underneath and got her flat, bedraggled doll.
The Princess lowered the box and the little girl primped and murmured to her doll. "Jenny thanks you, Lady," she finally said.
"You're welcome, Jenny." The Princess turned around, then stood, astounded. The child was hugging the doll, tears on her face. The Princess didn't know ghosts could cry.
Finally, the Princess tapped Amelia on the shoulder. "Oh," the little girl said. "The boots are behind that box over there." She resumed her crying. The Princess gingerly squeezed her shoulder, then got up and looked.
No wonder Amelia knew where they were. There were rows and rows of shoes and boots, categorized by size, color, material, and, oddly enough, shape. She could only figure that they were for costumes, because she would hate to see the creature who would wear them.
After she picked out her boots (she lingered over a pretty, jeweled pair, but finally chose a serviceable looking leather boot), she went back to Amelia. Immediately, she felt guilty. The little girl was still sniffling.
"What's the matter, Amelia?" the Princess said gently.
"I miss my Mommy!" She started bawling again, and the Princess looked at her, surprised. After all these centuries?
Without thinking, she hugged Amelia, and the little ghost buried her head in the Princess' shoulder. "Where is your mommy?" the Princess asked gently.
"I dunno!"
Of course. That was a dumb question.
"Mommy and Daddy told me to stay in one spot if I ever got lost and they'd find me." She pounded her fist on the Princess' shoulder. "They never found me!"
The Princess pushed the ghost back and looked into her eyes. "I found you. I know I'm not your mommy, but. I don't think your mommy would mind if I take you from the attic."
The little girl smiled slowly. "Yeah?"
"If you can help me take this stuff to my room, maybe we can find somebody who will help you."
"Ok." Just like that, the little girl stopped crying, although she still sniffled a bit.
They got lost a couple of times, but eventually they found the door. The Princess folded the clothes neatly and placed them in a burlap sack she had swiped and brought up to the attic for that purpose. She placed the boots on top of the clothes, then stared at the sword and scabbard, wondering how she was going to carry it. After some thought, she took a belt out of one of the nearby trunks, attached the scabbard to it, then lifted her skirts and fastened the belt around her waist. Amelia giggled, and the Princess grinned at her. She slid the sword in, then lowered h
er skirts. She looked at herself. Under all those skirts, the sword was barely noticeable.
She nodded. In a couple of days, she would be ready. In the meantime--
She turned to the little ghost. "Ready?"
"Yeah!"
"Remember, this bag is our secret, right?"
"Yeah. That's your escape bag," she said. "Will you carry me?"
The Princess went a little white, then decided she wasn't as repulsed as she thought she was. She gulped, sighed, and said in a small voice, "Yes, I'll carry you." She reached her arms out, and the little girl climbed on.
Actually, it wasn't as bad as she imagined. The little ghost almost seemed to float in her arms and wasn't slimy at all. It was like being hugged by a feather, and she kept smelling something that was almost like a flower.
They went furtively back to the Princess' room to drop their loot off, and ran into another maid. Amelia faded into invisibility while the Princess glowered, and the maid faded into the woodwork. The Princess then hid the booty under her bed, while the child oohed and ahhed over the decorations in the Princess' room and tried on her tiaras. She smiled a little sadly at the child. How like the girl to be impressed by something that the Princess took so for granted.
"Come, Amelia," the Princess said.
The child looked a little disappointed, then smiled. "We're going to see Mama."
"I hope so." The Princess frankly doubted it. Surely the mother had died of old age a long time ago.
Under Amelia's direction, they went directly to the kitchen. It was lucky that the castle hadn't changed much since the little girl was alive -- the Princess would've gotten lost after the first turn.
They opened the door to the kitchen, and the kitchen staff stared at them. The Princess was immediately aware that she was completely dirty from head to toe, and that the front of her dress had a long tear in it. But then Amelia stirred, and the Princess realized they were probably looking at the little ghost.
"Is your mama here?"
"No...o..." Just then, a young, pretty, translucent woman walked in, balancing a feed bowl on her hip. Amelia literally flew out of the Princess' arms and toward the woman. "Mama!"
The mother dropped the feed bowl, startled. The bowl cracked in half on the rough floor. "Amelia!" she gasped, then grasped the girl, almost enfolding her in her skirt. The Princess realized she was grinning like a fool and appropriately composed her face. "Where were you?" the mother half-sobbed.
"The attic. That lady found me."
"The attic--but, Amelia, we looked in the attic!"
Amelia looked at her feet. "I heard you, but I was waiting for you to find me. That's what you told me to do. And I was trying to get Jenny from under the box."
"The box?"
"The box that fell on me." She looked at her mother. "But then you never came back, and I waited for the longest time! Then the lady found me." She searched her mother's face. "Are you going to spank me?"
The mother looked at the Princess, gasped, then curtseyed. "Thank you, Lady."
The Princess blushed. "Actually, Amelia found me," she said.
The ghost of a young man looked in the door. "Mary, I need some--" His voice trailed off. "Amelia." He whispered.
"Daddy!" Amelia shouted, and launched herself toward the man. The mother wasn't far behind her.
The Princess smiled and took in the scene for a minute, then looked down and thought it prudent to change her dress. It was almost dinnertime, and she was extremely hungry, having missed lunch. Turning quickly, she almost ran into the Queen, who looked at her piercingly. "And what were you doing in the attic, my dear?" she said sharply.
"Um--just looking," the Princess said lamely. She wished she had learned how to lie.
The Queen looked pointedly at her dress. The Princess lifted her chin. "Amelia wanted her doll."
"Certainly, my dear." They understood each other completely, and the Princess upped her departure date to after supper.
She took one last look at Amelia's family, then gasped. They were disappearing in a golden light. The parents were looking up, beatific smiles on their faces. "Good-bye, Lady!" Amelia said, smiling at her.
"Where are you going?!" the Princess gasped.
"Heaven," the air echoed.
"Well, they never were happy here," the Queen sniffed. "To each their own."
Second-Hand Princess Page 6
