Princess in Disguise

by E. D. Baker

  Annie studied the petals, which were brown and crumbling around the edges. She doubted they would work, so was pleased when she stepped into the dark and the petals began to glow. They weren’t as bright as the living petals had been the night before, but their light was enough to help her navigate the turns in the tunnel that led beyond the cave.

  At first Otis seemed reluctant to step into the deep shadow, but at a little urging from Liam he shook his head and kept going. With Annie leading the way, they walked around jutting rocks and found their way through the tunnel, coming out behind the waterfall. The roar of the waterfall made Otis nervous, but Liam soothed him enough that they were able to move past the tumbling water and through the underbrush that concealed the tunnel entrance. Everyone was relieved when they came out the other side, especially Otis, who hurried down the path, practically dragging Liam.

  The horse didn’t stop until they could no longer hear the waterfall. By then the path had taken them to the bank of another stream, slower and gentler than the first. Otis nickered when he saw the water, so Liam led him to the pebbled shore and filled the waterskin while the horse drank. When they were finished, Annie and Liam climbed on Otis’s back and rode the rest of the way to the rainbow bridge.

  It was a beautiful bridge, made of alternating bands of ruby, sapphire, amethyst, emerald, and topaz that filled the air above them with color. Normally, Annie would have stopped to admire the bridge, but now she eyed its smooth surface, remembering how it had become slippery when she crossed it the last time, making her fall off into the water. “Do you think we should ride over it or walk Otis across?” she asked Liam.

  “We’ll ride across,” said Liam, urging the horse forward. “And go as fast as we can.”

  “But what if it becomes slippery while we’re on it? Maybe I should get off and let you ride across.”

  “Stay right where you are!” Liam said as Annie began to wiggle off. “We’re doing this together.”

  Otis had already progressed from a walk to a trot, but Liam wanted him to go faster, so he kicked his heels as hard as he could and the gelding shot across the bridge as if he were a racehorse. He was still galloping when the path angled away from the stream and ran alongside a pasture fence. Liam had just gotten Otis to slow his pace when the bellow of a bull in the pasture beside them startled the horse and sent him galloping again. He almost overshot the path when it turned a corner following the fence line, but Liam had him under control and they sped along the edge of the path, kicking up clods of dirt and mowing down wild daisies and buttercups. When Otis finally slowed to a walk, Liam patted his neck and praised him.

  “You know,” said Liam, “Otis isn’t just a cart horse. I think he was once a gentleman’s horse. He has a lot of heart and is very well mannered.”

  “And he can gallop with the best of them,” Annie said, slightly breathless herself. “Look, there are the minotaurs. And there’s someone on this side of the fence. Maybe he’ll know something about Moonbeam!”

  Otis seemed to be too tired to notice the minotaurs, and plodded toward the man with little urging. Liam called out “Hello!” as they approached him.

  The man looked up from scratching the nose of an adolescent minotaur and glanced at Annie and Liam. He nodded at them before turning his attention back to the young half man, half bull.

  Annie tried to ignore the man’s rudeness. “We were hoping to ask you a question.”

  “I figured there was a reason you stopped,” said the man. “Don’t get many strangers out this way. What do you want to know? Yes, they are minotaurs. And no, you can’t pet them. Big Daddy back there would be happy to gore anyone who touched one of his youngsters, except me, of course.”

  Annie looked toward the trees where most of the herd was resting. The big male minotaur was watching them and she remembered how agitated he had become the last time they approached his fence.

  “Why do you have minotaurs?” Liam asked. “What do you raise them for?”

  “People like to have them guard their labyrinths,” said the farmer. “You’d be surprised how many people have labyrinths these days.”

  “We didn’t really stop to ask about your minotaurs,” said Annie, “although they are very interesting. We were hoping you could tell us how we could find the fairy Moonbeam. She isn’t in the Moonflower Glade and we don’t know where to look next.”

  “Now, I don’t know the answer to that one. I’ve never had much to do with Moonbeam. She keeps to her side of Rainbow Creek and I keep to mine. The one you should ask is Footrot. He takes care of the glade when she isn’t around. I expect she tells him where she’s going and when she’s going—if she tells anyone, that is.”

  “And where could we find this Footrot?” asked Liam.

  “If he isn’t in the glade, he’s probably in Gruntly Village. Spends most of his free time in the tavern.”

  “Which tavern would that be?” asked Liam. “I seem to recall that there are two, both with birds on the signs.”

  “Then it would have to be one or t’other, now wouldn’t it?” the farmer said, looking at Liam as if he weren’t too bright. When the farmer turned back to the young minotaur, Annie and Liam knew that they’d been dismissed.

  Within minutes of leaving the farmer, Annie and Liam rode into Gruntly Village. It was much as Annie remembered it, with tall buildings, strange angles, and windows in odd places. There were two taverns—one at either end of the only street. The first tavern had a sign that bore the picture of a duck lying on its back with “X”s over its eyes and the words THE DEAD DUCK underneath. Annie and Liam were about to dismount to go inside when they noticed a small sign nailed to the door. CLOZED FOR REPARES, read the sign in thick black letters. Battered and dirty, it looked as if it had been reused more than once.

  “At least we won’t have to look for Footrot in both taverns,” Annie said as they continued on.

  When they saw that the other tavern was open, they slipped off Otis’s back and tied him to a post. The horse pinned his ears back and lifted his leg as if to kick the ogre walking toward them. Seeing this, the ogre changed direction and made a wide berth around Otis. Annie glanced up at the sign as they stepped onto the porch. The picture on the Foolish Finch showed a small bird squashed flat by a departing wagon wheel. Somehow, it was even less appealing than the dead duck on the other sign.

  The sun was shining when they stepped across the threshold, but inside the tavern, it was cool and dimly lit. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Annie saw that the room was filled with tables, many of them propped up on makeshift legs. A cage holding a single bedraggled finch rested on the table by the door. Deep gouges scarred the floor and walls, although some of them had been filled in and sanded over. As they stepped into the room, Annie saw that the center of the room was empty, the surrounding tables pulled well back. There were at least twenty ogres in the room, crowded around a few tables, and all were so intent on what they were doing that they failed to notice Annie and Liam.

  “Let’s watch awhile,” said Liam, “and see what’s going on.”

  He led the way toward the tables until they were close enough to see. At one of the tables, a group of ogres were drinking from flagons while watching three slugs inch across a slab of wood. Although they were laughing and talking about all sorts of things, their eyes never left the little creatures. Listening to their comments, Annie decided that they had bet on which slug would reach the end first.

  At another table, the ogres were comparing two stripes of paint, one red, the other blue. At least Annie thought it was paint, until she realized that they were betting on whether paint would dry faster than blood. She wondered who had contributed the blood sample.

  The ogres at the third table were just finishing negotiations when Annie and Liam walked up. Two of the biggest ogres stood and shook hands before stalking to the middle of the room. Another pair of ogres handed them knobby clubs, while the rest jockeyed for seats.

  “What are they doing?�
�� Annie asked Liam.

  “Bludgeoning contest,” said an elderly ogre seated at the table where the slugs were still racing. She recognized him as the ogre who had given her and Gwendolyn directions when they’d visited Gruntly Village before. He had been the only ogre to talk to them in a nice way, chasing off some of the rough young ogres who had been pestering them. When she looked around the room, Annie saw those three ogres there as well, avidly watching the ogres wielding the clubs. She decided right away to stay clear of them.

  Annie shuddered when the two ogres in the middle of the room started hitting each other, with the clubs. The resounding thwacks filled the room, but as they continued to fight, the other ogres started talking again, giving the combatants only occasional glances. “How long will those two fight?” Annie asked the elderly ogre.

  “Until they get tired of it or one knocks the other out,” he replied. “They won’t really hurt each other, though. Footrot and Nose-wipe are best friends. They do this at least once a week for fun. Those two love their contests! Look! They’re quitting already. Now comes my favorite part—the tooth-spitting contest! My friend Fleemer here is the village champion. But he doesn’t compete anymore, do you, Fleemer?”

  The old ogre sitting beside him gave Annie a wide-mouthed grin. She could understand why he no longer competed in the tooth-spitting contest. He didn’t have a single tooth in his mouth.

  “And the winner of the bludgeoning contest is Footrot,” announced an ogre with orange hair that stuck up all over his head, “with Nose-wipe coming in a close second.”

  “How could he not?” Liam whispered to Annie. “There were only two of them.”

  After laying his club on a nearby table, the bigger of the two ogres clasped his meaty hands together and shook them in the air, as if he’d won something significant. “At least now we know which one is Footrot,” Annie whispered back.

  Both ogres were grinning when they went to a line painted on the floor at one end of the open space. With their toes on the line, they took turns spitting the teeth they’d had knocked out. Footrot spit two teeth, but Nose-wipe spit three, and all of his went farther.

  “And the winner is Nose-wipe!” shouted the ogre with the orange hair.

  Footrot clapped his friend on the back, making Nose-wipe stagger. They were walking past Annie and Liam, heading to the back of the room, when Liam said, “Pardon me, Footrot. May I speak to you for a moment?”

  “Well, look at you!” bellowed the ogre so that everyone turned to stare. “There’s a little human come join us for a day of fun and games.” Footrot was over seven feet tall, and he had to look down to see Liam almost as if he were talking to a child. “Impressive win, wasn’t it, little man? You want to learn my secret to winning?” The ogre bent down as if he were going to confide something important. “Have an extra-thick skull!” he said, and roared with laughter. Standing up, he winked at his friends and would have walked on if Liam hadn’t planted himself directly in his way.

  “I need to ask you a question,” Liam told him. “It will take only a minute of your time, if you don’t mind.”

  “But I do mind,” Footrot said, no longer looking amused. “Why should I waste my time talking to a pipsqueak like you? Out of my way, little man, or I’ll step on you.”

  “Challenge him to a contest,” Annie whispered to Liam. “Think of something that you’re sure to win.”

  “Against an ogre?” Liam whispered back.

  While the other ogres bet on whether the human would get out of the way or not, Liam looked around the room. His gaze fell on the finch in the cage. Suddenly his expression brightened. “I want to challenge you to a contest,” Liam told Footrot. “If I win, you have to answer my question.”

  “And if I win?” asked the ogre.

  “Then you can squash me flat.”

  Annie gasped. Liam getting squashed had never been part of the plan.

  “I can also squash you flat if no one wins,” said Footrot.

  “Agreed,” Liam replied.

  “Then you have a deal,” Footrot said with a grin. “What is the contest?”

  “You have to make the finch sing,” said Liam.

  Footrot scratched his ear. “They do that? I don’t think I’ve ever heard one sing.”

  “They sing when they’re happy,” Liam told him.

  “Then bring on the finch!” Footrot ordered his friends. “This fool just told me the secret and I’m going to win!”

  The ogres cleared off one of the tables and set the cage in the middle. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Annie asked Liam as Footrot took his seat.

  “Stay on the other side of the room,” Liam replied. “Don’t come near me until it’s over.”

  “Are you sure? Because I can—”

  “I’m positive,” said Liam. “You’ll be helping me a lot if you’ll do that.”

  Annie was confused, but all she said was, “Then I will.”

  While Annie went to stand by the door, Liam took a seat across from Footrot. “I’ll go first!” said the ogre. He stared at the bird for a minute, then crooked one of his fingers to a young ogre and whispered something in his ear. The ogre was laughing when he left the tavern. While he was gone, Footrot poked the finch with one long finger. The finch darted to the other side of the cage.

  The young ogre was back in a few minutes. When he approached the table, Footrot held out his hand. The other ogres laughed as the young one dropped a worm onto Footrot’s palm. Holding the worm between his thumb and forefinger, Footrot used his other hand to open the door, then draped the worm over the perch. The finch fluttered around its cage until the ogre shut the door again, finally settling down as far from the worm as it could get.

  “Eat the blasted worm and be happy!” the ogre said, shaking the cage.

  The bird fluttered around madly. Annie was afraid it was going to hurt itself, but then Liam spoke up. “I win by default if you hurt the bird.”

  “What’s that mean?” one ogre whispered to another.

  Footrot grunted and set the cage on the table. “That bird doesn’t know how to be happy. You’ll never get it to sing.”

  “I can try,” said Liam. He waited until the bird settled on its perch again, then did something not even Annie was expecting. Liam began to whistle.

  His whistling wasn’t very loud, but everyone in the room stopped talking to listen. Annie had heard him sing, which wasn’t at all extraordinary, but his whistling was amazing. Liam had told her once that three fairies had given him christening gifts, one of which was the ability to whistle. He had never shown his skill in Annie’s presence before, probably because his whistling would be ordinary if she was close by. No wonder he didn’t want her near him now!

  All eyes were on the finch as Liam whistled the song of a meadow lark greeting the morning sun. He whistled the song of a robin, gossiping with its neighbor. Finally, he whistled the song of a finch, calling to its mate. If Annie had closed her eyes, she would have thought it was the bird singing. And then it was the bird in the cage, answering Liam’s call that had been so perfect that even it couldn’t tell the difference.

  “The winner is the puny stranger!” announced the redheaded ogre.

  Footrot waved the other ogres away and nodded to Liam. Annie hurried over to join them, eager to hear the answer to Liam’s question.

  “What was it you wanted to ask me?” said the ogre.

  “I was told that you work for the fairy Moonbeam,” Liam began. “She isn’t in the Moonflower Glade now. Where can I find her?”

  “Is that all? I thought you wanted to know something important! I haven’t seen Moonbeam in weeks,” said the ogre. “Last time I talked to her, she stopped by to check on the glade, and was leaving again to marry some human. As far as I know, she’s up in Loralet with her new husband.”

  “Can I ask a question, too?” asked Annie. “Do you think the owner of the tavern would sell us the bird in the cage?”

  “My mother owns the ta
vern and I gave her the finch myself,” said Footrot. “You might as well take it. The stupid bird doesn’t even know when it should be happy.”

  “Thanks!” Annie said. Snatching the cage off the table, she hurried out the door before the ogre could change his mind.

  Liam was right behind her. After helping her up onto Otis’s back, he handed her the cage. “Why did you want the finch? The last thing we need right now is to haul around a birdcage.”

  “I don’t want the cage, just the finch,” said Annie. “We’ll set it free once we’re back in the forest. It’s obvious that ogres don’t know the first thing about taking care of birds.”

  “I was surprised he gave it to you. I suppose he didn’t want it around as a reminder that he lost.”

  “Or he’s nicer than we thought he was,” Annie said, remembering the wink Footrot had given her just before she left the tavern.

  Chapter 8

  Annie and Liam took the road out of town and soon reached the main road heading north. They stopped when they found a patch of forest so Annie could open the birdcage to release the finch. The little bird seemed too frightened to move at first, so Annie set the cage on the ground and backed away. After a few minutes, the finch hopped out, fluttered its wings, and flew to a nearby tree. Instead of disappearing into the forest, however, it turned to watch Liam help Annie onto Otis’s back. It was still there when they rode away.

  They traveled for the rest of the day, calling each other Seth and Ruben when anyone else happened to be around. Most of the time, they were alone with no other travelers in sight, and they were able to talk about the things that really mattered to them, like how Annie’s family and all the wedding guests were faring back in the castle, and how anxious Liam was to go see his father. They started seeing more people on the road when they drew near to Loralet, but it was evening by then and they knew it was already too late to visit the fairy Moonbeam. When they finally entered the capital of Floradale, they headed straight for the area where the butcher’s shop was located, and found an inn with rooms available.