That was faster. I waited for several minutes until it no longer felt like my heart was beating against razor blades, then walked to the next pile. It was a little bigger than the last and I winced as I put my hands against the coarse straw. I knew what was coming. “Straw mound, gold, gold, gold.”
Pain ripped through me as the straw collapsed into a golden heap.
I looked around the room. Seven more mountainous straw piles were pushed against the walls. “I can’t change it all,” I said aloud. “Not even King John needs this much gold.” But when the throbbing in my heart subsided, I walked to the next mound, and the next, until half the room was a glittering mess of tangled gold twigs.
Vague sounds filtered in from outside. Faraway commands boomed out from deep, distant voices. I had no idea what it meant. Was it a nighttime guard drill of some sort? I wished whoever was yelling would go to bed. It would be harder to escape if people were running around the courtyard.
I put my hand over my heart. It was no longer bleeding, and the pain was lessening too, or perhaps I was just getting used to it.
I was moving to the sixth mound when the door burst open and Hudson stepped inside. He gripped a large ax in one hand and had a look of grim determination on his face. I froze. It generally isn’t good news when ax-wielding men come looking for you. The cynical part of me said: See, you always go for the wrong guys. He came here to kill you.
Hudson’s gaze went to the beam where I’d been chained and his brows dipped in worry. He scanned the room, taking in the piles of gold, and then saw me. Relief flashed across his face, and he motioned for me to come to him. “We’ve got to go. The castle is under attack.”
“What?” That couldn’t be right. That didn’t happen in the story.
I grabbed the magic book and the candle. As I hurried toward Hudson, I cast glances at the ax in his hand. “Are they coming in here? Is that why you have an ax?”
“I brought this to cut through your chain. How did you get free?”
“Clover helped me.” I didn’t say more, and he didn’t ask. I ran the rest of the way over to him, ignoring the jabs of pain the motion caused. My mind was focused on the words “under attack.” Well, most of my mind was anyway. The sentimental, romantic part was busy gloating over its victory against the cynical part. He came to rescue you, not kill you, it said, and then it sighed dramatically.
We reached the door, but he didn’t open it. “Who’s attacking?” I asked.
“We don’t know.” Hudson dropped the ax and unsheathed his sword. “Some men put up ladders and were over the wall before the watch could stop them. We can only see a few dozen men outside the wall, but they’re good shots and they’re keeping the garrison busy.”
He opened the door a crack and peered out.
“Where are we going?” I asked. An attack on the castle meant I couldn’t escape tonight—not when guards were marching around inside the gates and dangerous men were on the other side.
“We’ve got to get the Gilead.”
He tried to pull me out the door but I resisted. “What?” I asked. “You want to break into King John’s bedroom now?”
Hudson let out a frustrated breath. “I left my post to get you, Tansy. Haverton didn’t want you freed, but I couldn’t leave you chained here while enemies were roaming around. Do you know what they’ll do when they find me?” He held a hand out in the direction of the castle. “King John is probably out with the captain of the guard. If you don’t want to wait for a wedding, we need to get the Gilead now.”
I fingered the magic book in my hand. I hadn’t been able to make it work. Maybe it wouldn’t. The wizard might be our best bet to get home. “Okay,” I said, “let’s go.”
Scanning the darkness, Hudson led me onto the grounds. I kept pace with him even though each quick step sent shivers of pain into my chest. The candle flame jiggled in my hand, threatening to go out.
I didn’t want to go to the castle or be anywhere near King John—not when I knew what the story had planned for me next. It felt like no matter what I did, I couldn’t change the fairy tale. I was turning a page and heading right into the wedding dress portion of the book. I would spend my days guarded, turning things into gold while pain jolted my heart because I had an enchantment that was never intended for humans.
I was breathless when we reached the castle guards. Hudson told them that King John had sent for me and they let us through without question. The castle was dim now. The torches hanging on the walls cast shadows that pooled across the corridor floors in crisscrossing circles.
Hudson held on firmly to my arm, so I couldn’t make a break for it. I wasn’t sure whether that was for show or if he really did worry that I’d have second thoughts about his plan.
A few of the people we passed gave me appraising looks, checking, I suppose, to see what the king’s fiancée looked like, but most of the servants ignored us. They were preparing for a full assault, carrying pots of boiling oil and huge stones to throw down on the attackers.
We reached a set of circular stairs. They were in a different part of the castle than the other stairs I’d gone up, but they were identical: jutting stones, no handrail, so narrow we had to go up single file. Hudson went in front, holding the candle up so that light spilled back to me. His long legs strode upward, outpacing me. My breaths came in labored pants and my heart started bleeding again. I knew because I could feel my dress sticking to my chest.
Hudson turned, saw me struggling, and came back. He held out his hand for me, then noticed the blood on my dress. He grabbed hold of my arm as though I might tumble down the stairs if he didn’t. “What happened? Were you stabbed? Why didn’t you say something?”
Between breaths, I said, “Rumpelstiltskin gave me an enchantment so I could turn things into gold myself. That’s where it attached itself.” I wiped at the spot. “Apparently I’m too tenderhearted.”
He didn’t let go of my arm. He kept staring at the spot.
“I’ll be fine in a minute.” I looked up the stairs. “Probably.”
Hudson took hold of my hand and we walked up the stairs slower. He kept checking over his shoulder to see how I was doing.
“What if King John is in his bedroom?” I whispered.
“I’ll tell him you were so worried about your safety that you begged me to take you inside the castle. I agreed and then you wanted to see him about something.”
“I can’t lie.”
“Then don’t,” he said. “Want to see King John. Think of something you want to tell him.”
Not hard to do. I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t marry him. I couldn’t say that though.
I thought about it for a few steps then decided I could tell him I had left some of the straw unchanged. People and animals both used it for bedding, so I could ask him if he wanted me to change something else into gold instead.
“What will we do once we have the Gilead?” I asked, half whispering, half panting.
“We’ll find a way over the walls.”
“During a siege?”
“It’s only a small group that’s attacking. It will be over soon.”
Sooner than morning? “The fairy tale says my wedding is tomorrow.”
He glanced back at the book clutched against my side. “Isn’t that Clover’s Change Enchantment? I thought it was supposed to let you alter the ending so you could de-wed-ify tomorrow.”
“I’ve been trying to change the story, but I don’t know how.” I held the book up to look at it. “I’m not sure this thing is even working.”
“Sure it’s working.” He smiled back at me. “The original story has no mention of the handsome and dashing young guard who saved the miller’s daughter from her room on the last night.”
“Maybe the author left it out because he was killed tragically by falling down a dangerous staircase. Who built this thing anyway?”
Hudson’s breath was hardly even labored. “The stairs were made with defense in mind. People going up can�
�t use their swords in their right hands without banging them into the wall. So in a fight, the person coming down the stairs always has the advantage.”
“Great,” I said. “We’re going up.” I nearly stumbled, and his grip on my arm tightened.
He paused to let me catch my breath. I paused to hug the wall and consider all of the things a person could break while falling down the stairs.
Hudson watched my newfound affection for the wall. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“No, I’m fine with heights. It’s plunging to my death that worries me.”
He gave my hand a squeeze and pulled me slowly up the stairs again. “Just don’t look down and don’t think about it.”
The best way to guarantee that you’ll think about something is to have someone tell you not to think about it. All I could think about were long, uneven circular steps that went up higher and higher so you could fall farther. “How did you learn that stuff about the stairs being built for defense?” I asked.
“I’ve been here for three months. You pick things up. I could tell you how they tan leather, forge steel, and salt meat.”
“Oh. All I’ve learned is how to take a bath with two inches of water.”
He laughed and I liked the warm sound of it.
Finally, we reached the third story, left the stairwell, and went down a corridor. The hallway was empty, but rows of tapestries hung on the wall. Wild-eyed unicorns and running boars stared at us through embroidered forests. We came to an ornate wooden door. Hudson knocked. “Sire?”
I waited, heart still pounding from the climb, to see if King John would answer.
Please don’t be there. I pressed the book to my chest hoping this would magically help the wish come true.
No one answered. Hudson pushed the door open and we slipped inside. It was a sitting room of sorts, perhaps a place where King John met with visitors. We didn’t stop in this room, just walked through it to a door on the other side. Hudson knocked on this door as well. “Sire?”
The seconds plodded by. No one answered here either. We crept inside and shut the door behind us.
Hudson held the candle up to better take in the room. The dim light revealed a large canopy bed—the original king size—a few chairs, a couple of small tables, a wooden chest, and dozens of gold spools. They spread out over the floor. One had been unwound and lay draped across a chair. I wondered if it was my old friend Bob the spool.
Hudson and I padded around the room together, searching. I didn’t see any plants. We went to the table by the window. It was empty except for a bowl full of coins. I pointed at it. “I suppose that’s King John’s mad money.”
The corner of Hudson’s mouth lifted, but he forced back the smile and continued rummaging through things. As the candlelight fell on the gold, each spool shined.
“King John named all of those,” I said. “But then, that’s not surprising since he’s the sort of man who thinks money talks. Probably literally.”
Hudson was barely paying attention to what I said. His gaze swept around the room. “It’s got to be here. I’ve looked everywhere else.”
“Have you forgotten that King John is insane? He might keep it in his fish pond or his pantry or maybe he set up a little house for it with some friendly shrubbery.”
Hudson went back to the table by the window even though there were clearly no plants sitting on it. “He might be crazy, but he’s no fool. The plant is too valuable for him to—” He grunted as if he couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been, then bent down and looked under the table. At first I thought King John had thrown a robe down there, but once Hudson pulled the thing out, I realized we hadn’t seen the Gilead because we’d been thinking like people from the twenty-first century. In modern homes, you didn’t have to worry about keeping plants away from cold, drafty windows.
King John must have put the plant on the table during the day to get some sun, then covered it and moved it underneath the table to protect it during the night.
Hudson took the cover off, revealing a foot-tall bush. It seemed to be mostly twigs, with only a scattering of tiny oval leaves on its branches. Hudson smiled and took a knife from his belt. “There’s our ticket home.”
He cut a stem from the plant, making it look mournfully unbalanced. King John was bound to realize someone had hacked part of it off the moment he saw it.
Hudson tucked the stem into a pouch at his belt, placed the cover back onto the plant, and then pushed the pot back underneath the table. “I can almost feel the warm shower and taste the pizza. And yes, I do plan to do those things simultaneously.”
I was just happy we could leave King John’s room. I didn’t want to stay in here one second longer than I had to. We hurried out of the bedroom and through the sitting room. Hudson reached for the door handle.
Before he could open it, the door swung open, and King John walked into the room.
Chapter 15
King John’s eyes flew wide open and then narrowed as he saw us. He drew his sword in one quick motion—so smoothly that the oil lamp in his other hand didn’t even wobble. “What’s this?” he growled. “Trespassers?”
I could only grip the book to my chest like a shield and stare in surprise, but Hudson gave him a quick bow. “Sire, your fiancée asked that I take her to you. I thought it was best not to leave her chained up among piles of gold while invaders roam the grounds. I knew you wouldn’t want her hurt or kidnapped.”
King John lowered his sword, but didn’t sheath it. I watched the blade warily.
Certain things shouldn’t be mixed together. Crazy people and weapons are two of those things.
Would King John be able to beat Hudson in a sword fight? Hudson was taller, younger, and stronger, but he had only been practicing for a few months.
At the mention of piles of gold, King John turned his attention to me. “Did the fairy give you the enchantment as we instructed?”
When I nodded, an expression of glee bloomed across his face. I wondered if he’d be as excited if I told him I had to trade our firstborn child to get the enchantment.
I wanted to glance at Hudson, to ask him with my eyes what we were supposed to do next. I didn’t dare. I couldn’t give King John any hint that I knew my guard.
King John put his lamp on a table next to the door, then plucked the book out of my hands. “Is this the enchantment?”
I had to restrain myself from grabbing it back. “No, that’s a storybook. The enchantment is attached to my heart.”
King John clutched the book, but his gaze traveled to the bodice of my dress. “Ah yes, the heart is the right place for it. Easier to keep track of.” He tossed the book onto the table and smiled. “Mother always said we should marry a girl with a heart of gold. How right she was.” He still didn’t sheath his sword. “Now then, what did you wish to discuss with us? If it is details about the wedding, we can’t be bothered. We are currently busy crushing our enemies.”
I made sure no lie slipped into my words. “I didn’t change all of the straw. I figured the castle might need it and I can turn something else to gold instead. Or if you would rather, I can change the straw.” I gave a nervous curtsy. “Forgive me. It was wrong of me to bother you when you’re busy crushing enemies.”
I made to go but he held his sword across the doorframe, blocking the way. “Do we understand you correctly? You can turn other things to gold?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Hudson. His jaw was clenched, his expression tense. We were still in danger. When King John uncovered the Gilead in the morning, he would know the truth behind our visit tonight. Hudson and I had to escape from the castle before then. But King John probably wouldn’t let me walk out of here now. He’d call Haverton and have him chain me to something else.
No wonder the miller’s daughter had to send out servants to discover Rumpelstiltskin’s name. She was probably under lock and key the rest of her life.
King John leaned toward me, sti
ll keeping his sword firmly across the doorway. “What else can you turn to gold, my dear?”
“I’ll show you.” I put my hand gingerly on the edge of the sword and forced a smile at him. “Sword, gold, gold, gold.”
My heart gave a little rip of pain and then the silver sheen on the sword blazed into gold. The next moment the sword dropped from King John’s hand and clanged to the stone floor. It had become too heavy for him to hold.
Instead of being distressed that he was now weaponless, King John chortled and knelt on the ground to examine the sword. “It’s sublime,” he whispered. “It’s exquisite.” He caressed the shining hilt. “We shall have dishes and tables and fountains of gold. We shall have an entire castle of gold.”
He looked up at me, the greed fixed in his eyes. Which was why he didn’t notice Hudson pick up a bottle from the table, and why he didn’t see Hudson swing it toward his head.
“We shall—,” King John started. Then the bottle hit him, and he fell to the ground with a thud.
“—have an immense headache when we awake,” Hudson finished. “Here, help me drag His Majesties into their bedroom.”
I took one of King John’s arms, Hudson took the other, and we pulled him across the floor and behind the bed where he wouldn’t be visible. “He won’t be out for long,” Hudson said, “and when he comes to, he’ll be fit to be tied. So we’d better tie him up now.”
Luckily, it wasn’t hard to find string. Golden spools of it were everywhere. We wound it around his arms and legs. Then Hudson cut part of the bed’s canopy and made it into a gag. “That will buy us a little time,” he said.
But I wanted even more time. “I’ll weigh him down,” I said, grabbing hold of his sleeve. “Shirt, gold, gold, gold.”
Nothing happened. I felt no pain. The cloth didn’t change. “It didn’t work,” I said, puzzled.
Hudson cast a nervous glance at the door. “Maybe because you didn’t call it by the right name. It’s a tunic, not a shirt.”
My Unfair Godmother Page 18
