Tangled Magick

by Jennifer Carson

“We have been invaded by piskies, Mother. I told you last night,” said Leif. He had a hard time keeping the irritation out of his voice.

  “Oh, such a silly notion!” Faria laughed. She pushed Leif out of the way and began closing the door. “Pay no attention to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sixteen-year-olds, what can you do with them, really? Have a good day.”

  Leif stuck his foot in the closing door. “We…have… piskies. A whole nest of the blighters in the wall of the dining room. Get over it.” He pulled the door back open and gestured with his hand. “Please, come in, Aletta.”

  Aletta looked from one Burrbridge to another. One eyebrow quirked into a near-perfect I’d-better-handle-this arch. She coughed to hide a chuckle and held her wrist to her lips before clearing her throat. “Yes, teenagers, such imaginations! What are we to do with them? Perhaps I will come back a different day.”

  Faria busied her hands fixing the wisps of hair that had broken free from her sloppy bun. “Yes, come back for tea, on Thursday, perhaps. Will that work for you?”

  The wizard smiled. “Thursday will work just fine. Thank you, Mrs. Burrbridge.”

  “Oh please, call me Faria,” Mrs. Burrbridge said.

  Aletta winked at Leif. “You do know, Faria, that a nest of piskies in the house can cause a lot of trouble?”

  “We don’t have any piskies in the house. Good day.” Faria shut the door in Aletta’s face and bustled off to the kitchen, mumbling something about people who thought they knew everything.

  Leif shook his head. What was wrong with his mother? He bolted out the front door but turned when he heard his mother yelling from the kitchen window.

  “Pick a pie pumpkin for dinner!”

  “Okay, Ma!” Leif ran to catch up to the wizard. “I’m so sorry, Aletta. I have no idea why my mom is acting so rude.”

  Aletta laughed and waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. Your mom doesn’t want to believe she has a nest of piskies in the house because she’s afraid the village will think she isn’t a good housekeeper.”

  “That’s crazy. Everyone knows my mother’s house is spotless.” Leif stuffed his hands in his pockets and fell into step with the wizard. The morning sun shone off the colorful autumn canopy of the trees at the edge of their pumpkin field. A dozen or so ravens were perched on the fence row. “Where do you think Callum and Mae are on their journey?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s only been a couple of days. I assume they are drawing close to the town of Larissa sometime today if everything is on schedule.”

  “Have you been there? To Larissa?”

  “A long time ago.” Aletta’s boot heels clicked on the cobblestone path. She pulled a corner of the cloth back and pulled out a muffin, handing it to Leif. She took one for herself as well. “That’s where I met Callum.”

  “And you haven’t been back?” Leif licked his fingers. He’d already devoured the muffin. The wizard was still on her first bite. She held the basket out to him, encouraging Leif to take another.

  “No, not since the Trillium War.”

  “The Trillium War?” Leif asked between bites of his second muffin. “I’ve never heard of that one.”

  “No, I suppose you haven’t.” Aletta leaned against the large stone that marked the edge of the Burrbridge farm. She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders. “It was a war between the humans and the trolls.”

  “How come we’ve never heard of it?”

  Aletta polished off her muffin and brushed the crumbs from the bodice of her dress. “I suppose it’s because the elders don’t want you young hapennies to get any big ideas.”

  “That’s where the armor came from, isn’t it? The copper armor some wore when we fought for the bridge.”

  “Yes, I imagine.” Aletta smiled and patted Leif’s leg. “Now, don’t go getting me into trouble for telling you.”

  “Did the humans win?” Leif asked.

  Aletta’s face fell. “In a manner of speaking, we won. But many were lost that day.”

  A cool breeze raced over the pumpkin field and ruffled the hair on Leif’s ears. “I’m sorry, Aletta.” He placed his hand on her shoulder.

  Aletta sniffled. “I didn’t think I would miss Callum and Mae so much. I’m used to being away and ‘pigging out’—I guess it’s different when you are the one left behind.”

  “I miss them too,” Leif said.

  They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the view of the farm and the play of the ravens. Finally, Leif slid off the rock. “I should probably get home. I left all my carving tools out and didn’t sweep up the shavings.”

  “And you have to pick your mother a pumpkin.” Aletta smiled. “I’ll see you on Thursday, Leif. For tea. And I’ll try to convince Faria to let me get rid of the piskies.”

  Leif shook his head. “I hope they don’t steal away with the household before then.”

  The wizard waved as she made her way up the road. Her steps were slower than usual, as if she had no place to really be. Leif watched her walk away until the bend in the road hid her from view. He turned and jogged into the field.

  He smiled as he remembered the time pumpkins in Mae’s field grew with jack-o’-lantern faces. He twisted a nice round pumpkin from the stem and brushed the dirt from its smooth orange skin. They’d have to harvest all the pumpkins in the next couple of days—it was getting so cold at night, Leif knew snow would be falling soon. He hefted the pumpkin into the crook of his arm and made his way toward home.

  His mother was waiting for him, wooden spoon in hand, as he came through the door. “Have you seen my jar of ginger?”

  Leif placed the pumpkin on the kitchen work table. The piskies had probably taken the ginger, but his mother would never admit that.

  Faria followed him into the kitchen and began rifling through the cupboard. “I’ve got my nutmeg, the cinnamon, brown sugar… Where the ogre dung is my jar of ginger?”

  “Sorry, Ma. I haven’t seen it.” He left her rummaging in the kitchen, returning to his carving spot by the fire. He tossed in a couple of logs to keep the draft at bay, and then pointed to the broom. “Sveipa!”

  It shook itself awake and then swept into motion, pushing the wood shavings and dust into the fireplace and then resuming its position in the corner. Leif rubbed his hands over the flames, warming them. He hoped Mae was staying warm on the journey. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed. His mother would say he needed to stop mooning, but the Wedge just wasn’t the same without her.

  He turned from the fire and collected his tools. Where was his gouge? Leif looked under the table and ran his hand under the chair. He pulled out a bit of dust and red hair from the floor under the chair, but no gouge. He slammed his hand on the floor, making the dust rise, which made him sneeze. “Goose pie!” he said through clenched teeth. What would those piskies need with his carving tool?

  He stomped over to the hole in the baseboard and peered in. “Give it back!”

  A tiny squealing laugh floated out of the hole. “Finders keepers, hapa-ninny!”

  Chapter 8

  Poppy flopped into the armchair. “You have an idea of how to get us out of here? Well, I’d love to hear it!”

  “I can transform this carving Leif gave me into a real owl,” Mae said, turning toward her friend.

  “And how is that going to help us?” Poppy frowned.

  Mae paced the room. “We can get her out of the castle from the window and she can go back to the Wedge and get help.”

  “How will she know how to get there or who to look for?”

  “I’ll make sure when I create her that I give her the right memories.”

  “But we don’t know how we got here, Mae! Who’s to say she’ll ever find her way to the Wedge? She could just fly around forever. What about the magick that cloaks the castle?”

  “It’s the best shot we’ve got to get word to Aletta.” Mae scowled.

  Poppy shrugged. “What about Trina, or the hidden passag
eway?”

  “Trina is too small,” Mae said.

  The little squirrel glared at her and made an indignant squeak.

  “It would take you too long to get to the Wedge, Trina. I’m sorry, but it’s true. What were you thinking about the passageway?” Mae asked.

  “Let’s explore it tomorrow when the queen is in the Great Room. If it leads nowhere, we’ll send the owl.” Poppy sighed as the door creaked open.

  Folkvarus poked his head in the room. “You two, follow me.”

  Poppy gave Mae a worried look. Mae shrugged as if to say, He’s given us no reason not to trust him. Trina leapt into her pocket and peeked out as she followed Folkvarus into the hallway.

  The grand chamber was full of noise. Trolls squabbled and wrestled and yelled and shoveled food into their fanged mouths. The smell of roasted chicken made Mae’s mouth water, but the stench of the trolls tempered her appetite somewhat.

  Beady dark eyes followed the two hapennies as they crossed the large room. Mae could hear the licking of lips as she hurried across, pushed the swinging door Folkvarus had disappeared through, and emerged into a warm kitchen. The smell of oat and berry mush made her stomach growl. Trina’s whiskers shivered as her nose twitched with eagerness.

  “What’s this, then?” Cook Barley turned and scowled. He had the same slightly vacant and sad look as Mr. Whiteknoll. He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to remember something. Then his face softened. “Oh, girls. Your beautiful hair.”

  Poppy’s hand reached for the braid that wasn’t there. Mae smoothed her chopped curls.

  “The girls will be needing something to eat, Barley,” Folkvarus said.

  Cook Barley nodded and gathered a couple of bowls. He ladled a bit of mush in each one and set them on the table. His scowl had returned. “And for you, Folkvarus?”

  “Nothing now.” He gave the girls a little shove. “Go on. Eat it. Meals for servants don’t come at regular intervals—only when you can sneak them in.”

  Mae picked a berry out of the bowl and gave it to Trina as another troll-like creature entered the kitchen. A loud roar of voices followed her, fading as the door swung shut. She carried a tarnished silver tray filled with bones. “She must be in a good mood today,” she said as she eyed the girls sitting at the table.

  “Were those our chickens?” Poppy asked. Her face turned as red as her hair.

  Mae elbowed her. She felt Trina wiggle out of her pocket and jump to the floor.

  “Yes, I’m afraid they were,” the troll-like creature said. “Name’s Gilda. Head server for the queen…unfortunately.” She flashed a grin, which could have been scary except for the fact that her eyes twinkled. “You’re new, so I’ll tell ya that I’ve found hopefulness keeps the enchantments at bay,” she said. “Without it, you’ll easily fall into despair.”

  Mae’s ears perked. “Enchantments?”

  “That’s enough, Gilda.” Folkvarus cut her short and gestured with his eyes to the gargoyle carving above the hearth. The gargoyle wiggled his ears and crossed his eyes at Mae. She averted her gaze quickly.

  Gilda nodded and cleared her throat. “Eat up and get back to work, you two!” She scowled at them. “The queen’s castle ain’t gonna clean itself. That much is obvious.”

  Cook Barley tossed a couple of rolls on the table and gave Mae a wink. “Chin up!”

  “When you are finished, return to the queen’s chamber,” Folkvarus said.

  “What will we have to do now?” Poppy said. “We’ve already scrubbed the floors, gotten rid of the cobwebs, polished the wardrobe, dusted the mantel, gathered the laundry—”

  “Whatever she wants you to do.” Folkvarus nodded to them and strode across the kitchen. The loud cacophony of voices again filled the room until the door swung closed behind him.

  “I suppose we’re in for a cold night on the stone floor.” Poppy stuck her spoon in her oat mush and pushed it around.

  Mae nodded, but her thoughts were on Gilda and Folkvarus’s strange behavior and the gargoyles who seemed to grow right from the walls and mantels. “Cook Barley, can I ask you something?”

  Cook turned from the dishes he was washing and sighed. His eyes wavered to the gargoyle above the hearth. It stuck out its tongue and blew raspberries. “It’s best you don’t.”

  Mae was startled by Cook’s answer, but nodded and finished eating. She wondered how they could find out whose side the gargoyles were on.

  Poppy yawned and laid her head on the table.

  A loud roar echoed through the kitchen door as Gilda pushed her way in again. “Best be off with you two. The queen has decided to retire early. Hurry now!”

  Mae looked for Trina but didn’t see her. She was probably exploring the castle. That was good; perhaps she could find a way out. Mae and Poppy shoveled what was left in their bowls into their mouths and scrambled back through the noisy chamber, trotting down the hallway.

  Mae pulled on the queen’s chamber door, but it wouldn’t open. Poppy grabbed the iron handle and yanked with all her might.

  Still the door did not budge.

  “Wait,” Mae said. “Folkvarus never opens the door—it opens for him by itself.” She knocked on the door three times and stepped back.

  The wood grain swirled and made a face. Poppy covered her mouth with her hand and froze. The face protruded from the wood and cackled.

  “Well, if it isn’t the new servants to our green queen. Don’t just stand there! Come in, come in!”

  The door swung open, and Mae and Poppy stepped into the room.

  Poppy shivered. Her nose twitched. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the gargoyles, Mae.”

  “I’m not a gargoyle! Phffft!” The face in the door was back, but this time on the inside.

  “What are you, then?” Mae asked.

  “I’m a wood nymph.”

  “But I thought nymphs lived in trees,” Poppy asked.

  The nymph sighed. “Yes, we do. This door was made from the tree I lived in. It was cut down in the depths of winter, when we hibernate, and I was trapped. Oh! She’s coming!” The nymph disappeared back into the wood grains, and the door creaked open.

  “Will you be wanting to wash up before bed then, miss?” Mae asked the queen as she entered the chamber.

  Huldfrejya scowled and turned her back on Mae. “Unlace my dress.” She pointed to Poppy. “You, put another log on the fire.”

  Mae climbed onto the bed in order to reach the laces and picked at the frayed ribbon that held the queen’s bodice together. Poppy tossed a log onto the brazier. When the bodice finally loosened, Mae gasped at the queen’s back through the thin material of her shift. She was so thin that the bones nearly poked through her green-tinged skin.

  “Hurry up, you little twit. There’s nothing back there to be gazing at.” Huldfrejya tossed the bodice to the floor.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mae pulled at the tie on the queen’s skirt and let it fall into a puddle around her feet.

  “About time!” Huldfrejya kicked the skirt into the corner and climbed into the tall bed. “Get off! And pull the cover up.”

  The girls scurried to cover the queen. Mae reached for the bedcovers and stopped. The queen’s feet were still pink and fleshy. She bit her lip. What could it mean? Poppy cleared her throat and Mae snapped to attention. She grabbed the corner and pulled her half of the bedcovers up to Huldfrejya’s chin. The sheets were grimy and stiff. The coverlet was moth-eaten, and the matted batting was showing through the holes. Mae crinkled her nose at the filth and vowed to wash the sheets and blankets tomorrow, along with the pile of laundry they’d gathered.

  “Stop loitering!” Huldfrejya shrieked. “Close the curtains.”

  The girls pulled the bed curtains, buffering the queen against the draft that came snaking through the window.

  “What should we do now?” Mae whispered to Poppy.

  Poppy grabbed the queen’s bodice, pinching it between two fingers and holding it away from her as if she were carrying t
he tail end of a skunk. Mae scooped up the skirt and tossed it into the pile of laundry. Mae grabbed the broom, feather duster, mop, and bucket and carried them to the far corner of the chamber.

  Soft snores filled the darkened room.

  “She didn’t take any time falling off to sleep, did she?” Poppy scoffed. “Her garments haven’t been washed in ages. It’s a right crime to have so many beautiful gowns and not take care of them.”

  “It’s not her fault,” Mae said.

  Poppy stared open-mouthed. “Of course it’s her fault. She’s a troll. That’s what they do.”

  Mae shook her head. “She looks like a troll, but she’s not. Neither is Folkvarus, nor Gilda.”

  “Not trolls?” Poppy said. “What are you talking about?”

  Mae shrugged. “I don’t know. But they aren’t.”

  “Then who invaded our camp?” Poppy asked.

  Mae shivered. “Those were trolls.”

  Poppy shook her head. “I’m confused. How can you tell the trolls who aren’t actually trolls apart from the real trolls?”

  “Take a good look at Folkvarus. He has hair on his ears, big bushy brows. He’s shorter than the others, and he’s a hard worker. His clothes are clean too—threadbare, but clean. Gilda’s too. I’d bet ten pints of wedgeberry rum that there is a spell on the queen, her castle, and its inhabitants. I just don’t know who put the enchantment on them. But we are going to find a way to break it.”

  “How?”

  Mae shook her head and flopped on the floor in front of the fire. “I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with the fact that the skin on her feet turned pink when the mop bucket spilled water on them.”

  Poppy giggled. “The bucket must have thought she was extra dirty.”

  “Well, it’s not likely that we’ll be able to talk her into the bathtub on our first day in the castle.” Mae grinned.

  “Probably not even on our thirtieth.” Poppy sighed and sank next to Mae.

  “Let’s hope we aren’t here that long. We should start by washing her clothes.” Mae pulled her wand from her pocket. She pointed it at the feather duster and it hopped back into action. “Even if it doesn’t make her feel better, it sure will help the stench in the room.”