There were several other suspicious items within that locked closet, but he chose not to investigate them. Rather, he returned directly to Princess Alberta, expectant that she would give him a new task.
She had immersed herself in books all afternoon, perfectly content to run him ragged while she idled away her day. As he stopped on her threshold this time, though, she looked up from a large, leather-bound volume. “You really can’t tell me what sort of a curse it is?” she inquired.
Duncan frowned. “No,” he said. He was determined not to betray Wildfire’s secret.
Alberta sighed and jotted a note in another book beside her. “This might take a while, then. There are a dozen different types of curses with any number of variations to each and an array of possible cures. I can’t guarantee that the one you need will be among them, either. That being said, come back in the morning if your resolve hasn’t wavered. Stick to your gardening if you’ve had enough errand-running already.”
With dawning wonder he realized that she had taken his request to heart. Far from lazing about all afternoon, she had occupied herself with the research he was incapable of doing.
He stammered his thanks and quickly bowed. She shooed him away with careless fingers, but Duncan thought he saw a hint of a smile on her lips.
He discovered the next morning that her reach extended beyond the castle walls into Midd proper.
“Can you read a map?” she asked him first thing, and when he expressed confidence that he could, she produced a patterned grid of the entire city as it would have been seen from a bird’s view.
“Since you can’t read the names, you’ll have to count the streets,” she told him, and then she used a pencil to circle three buildings across the spread of the map. “I have deliveries that need to go to these three houses. You’ll probably encounter servants. Just hand them the package and don’t you dare even mention my name. They should pay you for the goods, and it’s possible that they’ll tip you a little extra for the delivery. You’re welcome to that, if they do, though I hardly think you need it with that head of yours.”
Duncan ignored this provocation. He took the three small packages together with the map and went on his way. He retrieved Wildfire from the stables as insurance against getting lost. He had not apologized to the white horse for their conversation of the previous day, but they seemed to have an unspoken agreement not to mention it. Because Duncan had run errands for Princess Alberta before, Wildfire did not find this one out of the ordinary in the least.
Two of the recipients tipped an extra farthing for the delivery. The third one stiffed him. He made certain that all of Princess Alberta’s money was safely stowed in his pockets before he turned back to the castle stables.
“What’s she up to now, I wonder,” said Wildfire as he ambled into his stall.
“Same tricks as usual,” said Duncan lightly. He might’ve elaborated, but he still thought the horse was an idiot. Besides that, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Princess Alberta might not have any more answers on how to break a curse than anyone else had.
He returned to her rooms to discover her still immersed in books. The pile around her seemed to have grown. “Can’t you at least narrow it down for me?” she asked.
“What?” said Duncan in confusion.
Alberta scowled. “The curse—is it something that affects the body or the surrounding environment? I mean, does your friend have ensorcelled lands or tools or livestock, or does the curse rest solely upon him?”
He had assumed that curses were a simple matter and hadn’t considered the vast array of options available to a malevolent witch. Even so, he hesitated to answer, wary of giving away too much information.
She persisted, though. “Even a bodily curse has multiple variations: there’s transfiguration, sensory deprivation, altered personality, somnolency—”
“What’s somnolency?” Duncan interrupted.
“Something that causes sleep,” said Alberta, “like what Dame Groach tried to do to my great-grandmother. Is that it?”
“No,” he said.
She immediately struck through a line in her notebook. Then, she looked up expectantly.
“It affects his body,” said Duncan reluctantly. “I don’t want to say any more than that.”
Alberta scratched through several more lines. “Take this stack back over to the bookshelves,” she commanded, and she gestured absently to a dozen volumes piled on the floor next to her. Duncan noticed little scraps of papers hanging from within the books, presumably place markers for whatever curse-related items she had discovered.
“So none of these has to do with curses of the body?” he asked.
“No, those are the ones that affect things around a person—thorn hedges and cursed axes and the like. I must say I’m a little relieved it’s not one of those, because breaking them seems a lot more complicated than breaking a bodily curse.”
“Really?” said Duncan with a swell of hope in his heart.
“Breaking a bodily curse isn’t easy, either,” she added with a narrowed glance. “It’s just simpler, that’s all.”
He frowned. “What’s the difference?” Easy and simple were the same things, according to his understanding.
She waved her pen at the books she was still searching through. “Most of these tell of curses broken quite simply, through a single item or act. However, if you discover that a curse can be broken with something as simple as, for example, true love’s kiss—which seems to be a favorite among malevolent fairies—you first have to find the person’s true love, and that might not be easy at all. Then you’d have to convince the true love to kiss the cursed person, and that could be even more difficult.”
Duncan thought about Princess Margaret’s aversion to horses and immediately understood what Alberta meant. “I see,” he said with a frown.
“Yes, well, that seems to be the trend with bodily curses—some simple remedy that’s almost impossible to discover or perform. If your friend suffers under a bodily curse, it might take some time to discover the remedy. When you’ve finished carting those books, you can go for the afternoon.”
“You don’t have more deliveries for me?” he asked in surprise, jarred by her abrupt change of subject. After yesterday afternoon and this morning’s adventures, he just assumed that she would have another list lined up for him.
She glanced up with arched brows. “You’ve already made all my deliveries for the next week,” she told him plainly. “I never get to make them all in one go—I have to sneak around behind everyone’s back so no one catches wind of everything I’m doing. You know to keep your mouth shut on that count, I’m sure, Goldilocks,” she added, and her voice held that hint of menace that foretold dire consequences should he go blabbing her affairs to the other servants.
“Yes,” said Duncan confidently. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to anyway, but he wasn’t about to risk his identity being exposed just to share some gossip about the middle princess.
Even though he made this declaration with such certainty, the opportunity to break it presented itself not an hour later. Duncan had returned to his gardening duties for the first time in two days, only to be interrupted by his fellow under-gardener, Jimmy.
“What’s the royal witch got you doing now?” asked the boy as he knelt to pull weeds beside Duncan. He tried to pretend he wasn’t interested in having his question answered, but there was this odd glint of curiosity in his eyes.
Duncan put on a silly grin and shrugged haplessly. “Same as always,” he said.
“What’s that?” asked Jimmy.
“Well,” said Duncan, and he screwed up his face in thought, “I’d really rather not talk about it. I heard that servants who talk about Princess Alberta get cursed with dysentery.”
Jimmy shuddered and swallowed uncertainly. “Look here, Scurvyhead,” he tried again, “don’t you think it’s terrible the way that witch-princess treats you like you’re her personal slave? She’s downrigh
t cruel to all of us!”
For some indiscernible reason, Duncan was annoyed to hear Alberta spoken of in those terms. He could hardly say as much without appearing suspicious, though—all the servants badmouthed Princess Alberta, after all—so he simply stared as though uncomprehending.
Jimmy could not continue this thread of conversation under such a stare. “All right,” he said at last. “Here’s the truth: you know this Lord Briarly fellow? He’s been confined to his rooms for the past week sick as a dog, but he’s finally recovering. His visit ends in a couple of days, though. He wanted to be able to enjoy the time he has left here, and he thinks Princess Alberta is the one who made him sick, so he wants to know what she’s up to so that he can avoid her.”
“I heard he was trying to abduct her and smuggle her out of the country,” said Duncan with a frown. The story had circulated as a rumor among the servants ever since the first couple of them had contracted their debilitating intestinal disease, so it was safe enough to mention now.
“No, no,” said Jimmy quickly, and he glanced self-consciously over his shoulder. “He’s given that business up. What fool would try to abduct a princess of Meridiana? And who would help him if he did? No, he just wants to stay out of her path, to make sure that she’s not plotting anything else against him.”
Duncan said nothing, and Jimmy squirmed beneath his stare. “Here,” he said, and he produced a few silver coins from his pocket. “He’s given me this in exchange for word of Princess Alberta’s doings. I’ll split it with you if you tell me.”
“But I don’t know anything,” Duncan lied. “I really don’t want dysentery either.”
Jimmy winced and shoved the money back into his pocket. “You wouldn’t tell her about me, would you?” he asked suspiciously.
“Why would I tell her about anything?” Duncan replied. “I’m just a scurvy-headed peasant. She doesn’t care what I have to say.”
Reluctantly Jimmy nodded. They weeded together for half an hour more in complete silence before he moved on to another job.
That evening, Duncan retired to his little garden shed. He removed his sheepskin wig and blew out his candle. Just as he curled up on his mattress to go to sleep, though, a sharp knock sounded on his door.
“Who’s there?” he called apprehensively.
“Open up, dog,” said Princess Alberta from the other side.
He felt around for his wig and jammed it atop his head before scrambling for the door. In the dark of the night, with a hooded lantern swinging from one arm, Princess Alberta stood waiting expectantly.
“Get your horse and another for me and meet me by the servants’ entrance to the castle,” she commanded. She turned to go, but he caught her arm. “What?” she demanded crossly.
Duncan glanced apprehensively at the garden around them. “You know that Lord Briarly is recovered from his illness, don’t you? Should you be moving around like this?”
Alberta shrugged from his grasp. “Don’t worry about him,” she said lightly. “Just get the horses and come.”
He wondered if she had enacted some new misdeed upon the unfortunate nobleman, or if she was simply dismissing whatever threat he posed. Duncan didn’t have time to question her, though, for she immediately turned and headed back toward the castle. He made his way to the stable and, rousing Wildfire, informed him that they were to accompany Princess Alberta on some nighttime errand.
“Has she gone crazy?” Wildfire asked.
“Who knows,” said Duncan as he hoisted the saddle upon the horse’s back. He located the same chestnut mare Alberta had ridden before and saddled it as well. Then, he snuck the two creatures out the back of the stable and away to the little door in the side of the castle.
Alberta waited there with a couple of large items next to her. Duncan recognized them as the bundle of straw and sack of ashes he had stowed in a closet for her.
“You’re not actually making lye at this hour?” he demanded, for he had surmised that this was the ultimate destination for these two objects.
His question took her by surprise. “And why not?” she asked defensively. “Am I supposed to make it in the middle of the day when people are keeping tabs on my whereabouts?”
He sighed and helped her secure the two bundles, one to each horse. Together they left through the back gate and into the night.
“How did you know I was making lye?” she asked when they were a sufficient distance from the castle walls. They were headed in the direction of the ruined abbey.
“What else are you going to do with straw and ashes? Besides, you’d need it if you were making soap.”
“Who said I made soap?”
He looked as her as though she were crazy. “You had me take a whole block of it to the housekeeper,” he reminded her.
“I might’ve bought it,” she retorted.
“You had me buy the suet with your sister,” he said. “What else were you going to do with suet but make tallow, and tallow makes soap!”
“Or candles,” she argued.
“Either way,” said Duncan, “it wasn’t much of a guess.”
She grunted unhappily. “What else have you figured out?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Rumor has it I’m a drunken witch who makes potions and poisons in her bedroom. True or false?”
“You do make poisons,” said Duncan logically, “but you’re not a drunk—at least, you don’t have any of the symptoms. My father was a drunk. He reeked of alcohol most of the time, and I always knew when he’d been drinking from the way he talked and moved. You’re not a drunk.”
“So what did I do with all that alcohol you bought?” she asked. “It’s quite gone, I assure you.”
Duncan decided to be frank. “Look,” he told her, “if you want to set yourself up as an apothecary, it’s none of my business. These rumors that you’re anything other than that are ridiculous, though. My mother was an herbalist,” he added with a sidelong glance her direction. “I may not remember any of her recipes, but I remember the ingredients she used well enough. It’s pretty obvious what you’re doing. Why you’re doing it is another matter entirely. You can afford to buy any of the items you go to the trouble to make.”
“I’d hate to be too predictable,” Alberta grumbled. “It started with Bella, though, if you must know.”
He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Her hair isn’t naturally blonde,” she said. “It’s brown, like mine. The first concoction I ever made was a hair dye. The recipe calls for lemon juice. It lightened her hair in stages, gradually so that no one noticed unless they were really paying attention. She still uses it regularly, which is why I wanted a lemon tree at the castle.”
He couldn’t imagine Princess Bellinda as a brunette, but Princess Alberta didn’t seem to be lying. “Why does she need to dye her hair at all?” he inquired.
“Because all the best fairy-tale princesses have golden hair,” said Alberta, as though this was a perfectly logical answer. Duncan’s lack of comprehension showed on his face. She decided to elaborate. “Bella had to become the perfect woman.”
“Why?”
“Because Father wasn’t going to let Mae mourn forever, that’s why. Bella and I schemed together, and that was the solution we came up with. She became the perfect woman, and I became the brick wall that made her unattainable. Mae’s suitors come and fall head over heels in love with Bella, and then they leave in despair because she can’t marry until after I do, and no one’s going to marry a villain like me.”
Duncan had figured this pattern out, but he hadn’t realized it was so carefully orchestrated. “What about the ones you poison?” he asked.
Alberta scoffed. “Poison is such a strong word,” she said. “I just debilitate them for a bit. You can hardly expect Bella to seduce everyone.”
“And why are you telling me any of this?” he asked suspiciously. It was night, and they were halfway down the trail to an abandoned rui
n with no one else around. These circumstances were strange enough without Alberta suddenly becoming chatty.
“It’s not as though you can tell anyone else, Goldilocks,” she reminded him, an unspoken threat in her voice. He said nothing. Alberta pursed her lips, then. “I don’t like being out here in the dark,” she admitted. “Talking makes it seem less sinister. You probably didn’t expect me to be such a coward. Do you see how the abbey looms out there like a giant black creature hunched against the starry sky?” she added, and she pointed ahead of them on the trail.
A silhouette of jagged walls jutted up into the darkness. Duncan hadn’t found it eerie until now. He suppressed a shudder. “Why do we have to come out here in the dark? Couldn’t you come out early in the morning, at first light?”
“The whole castle’s abuzz first thing in the morning,” Alberta replied. “That’s the absolute worst time for me to try to sneak out. Early afternoon is fine as long as I’m not carrying anything with me to draw attention. The servants’ suppertime is best for errands into the city. After dark is best for everything else.”
“What about marauders on the path here?”
“No one goes near the abbey after dark,” said Alberta. “It’s haunted.”
He pulled Wildfire to a halt and stared at her in horror. “Then why are we going there?”
“It’s not really haunted,” she replied, though she didn’t sound entirely certain of that. “Come on, now. Let’s get this over with.”
Wildfire moved forward without instigation. Duncan steeled his nerves by reminding himself that he had been to the abbey after dark before, that he had stumbled through its ruins to hide his halberd, and there had been no signs of ghosts or ghouls anywhere.
“I have most of my supplies in the old abbot’s quarters,” said Alberta. “They’re tucked back from the rest of the abbey, so someone would have to go prowling about the place to find them. The rain barrel might not be full, but I’ll still need help pouring it. I usually make Bella come with, but she always complains about losing her beauty sleep.”
“I don’t have to worry about that,” said Duncan dryly.
Goldmayne: A Fairy Tale Page 26
