by Jim Stinson
She had discovered a room that hadn’t been opened in nearly 20 years.
The floor was littered with odd, dusty stuff that didn’t look useful, but Alix noticed an old family trunk against the far wall. Thinking of her hopelessly dirty gown, she opened the lid. The good news was that the trunk was full of clothing; the bad news was that the clothes were for men.
Or was it bad news? The garments were clean at least, and not badly worn. Thoughtfully, she stripped off her own things and dressed in a shirt, a leather jerkin, and tights. She wiggled into a pair of low boots and checked the results in the mirror she’d found. She didn’t look bad! Not bad at all, and much more practical than smothering gowns. She should have thought of this ages ago. Alix was too busy brushing the cobwebs away to see that the eyes of the wooden owl carved on the mirror frame were following her.
Glancing around, Alix noticed a rakish cap on the floor. She picked it up and put it on, turning away from the glass as she did so. “How do I look, Max?” she asked, grinning.
Max only whimpered and cowered, because the cap was the Cap of Darkness that Puck had given her, and it instantly turned her invisible. “That bad, eh?” said Alix’s voice in the empty room; then she reappeared as she took the cap off.
“I wonder what else is in here.” Rummaging about, she opened a small, strangely carved wooden box. The ring inside held a blue stone that glowed oddly in the torchlight. Trying to keep her own spirits up, she slipped it on and said lightly, “Accessories too. I’ll be quite the young man about town. What’s this tiny bag?” When she shook it, it clinked, so she dumped the contents into her hand. “Hey! Three gold coins. That’s enough to buy dinner.” She dropped them back in, not noticing that three more coins had appeared in their place, for this magic purse would never be empty.
Then her brief try at cheering herself collapsed and she sighed bitterly. There was nothing to eat in the palace. She couldn’t even buy food with the money she’d found because she couldn’t walk down to Gdink. She was forbidden to go out the palace door. Absentmindedly, she twisted the ring on her finger. “I wish I were down in Gdink,” Alix sighed.
Without warning, there she was, standing in the very center of the Gdink town square, surrounded by City Hall, the shops, and the Unicorn Inn. Still the only restaurant in town, the Unicorn had briefly been challenged by a ragged man outside it selling bratwurst and kraut from a cart. Dame Strudel, the Unicorn's owner and cook, had fought back by adding a sidewalk café with the usual undersized tables, butt-numbing chairs, and umbrellas supplied by a bottler of pear juice.
Ordinarily, Alix would have sized up the situation at once, but she was so tired that even her amazing brain had gone off duty. She thought vaguely that she must have walked down the hill in her sleep - or something. As for the locked door, she forgot it completely.
But when she saw the sign with the snowy-white unicorn swinging in the hot breeze and smelled the wonderful smells from Dame Strudel's kitchen, she began to revive at once. “Right!” Alix said out loud, and put her new cap on.
Of course she turned invisible, which was probably just as well because a Gdinker was walking by and Alix was standing right in the town fountain, which sat in the middle of the square. She had wished to be down in Gdink but she hadn’t told the blue wishing ring where in Gdink. The fountain was nearly dry in the horrible drought, fortunately for her, if not for Gdinkers. Still without truly thinking about all this, she stepped invisibly out of the fountain. A ghostly trail of damp footprints appeared and then instantly dried on the hot cobbles, and a moment later the tavern door opened, then closed by itself. The lone Gdinker departed and the empty square sat in the twilight, releasing the day’s awful heat.
“AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!”
The tavern door banged open and a thick clot of mixed Gdinkers tumbled outside in a heap. Still yelling, they sorted themselves into a motley crew of people. The burghers scrambled to their feet and backed farther away from the open door, through which floated a ghostly chicken leg with a bite out of it and a steaming stein of hot pear juice. The Gdinkers froze in pure terror. The rest of the chicken meat ripped itself off the drumstick and disappeared in thin air, then the bone floated tidily into a rubbish can.
Princess Alix took off the magic cap. “What’s got into you people?” she asked conversationally as she flashed into being in front of them.
“There he is,” screamed Master Blintz, “a terrible warlock!” Blintz was an overstuffed, balding burgher who owned a used wagon lot on the cheap side of town.
Master Schnecken squinted nearsightedly. “Looks like our own Princess Alix to me - only he’s a prince, er…” he stopped in confusion. Schnecken was a skinny old geezer with no teeth.
Dame Strudel, a big, good-looking woman now flirting with middle age, crossed two long wooden spoons in front of her, yelling, “Evil! Evil!!”
“You sure that ain’t Princess Alix - or maybe Prince?”
Dame Strudel rounded on Schnecken, “What are you, blind? That can’t be our lovely princess. That’s got to be Evil Krank in disguise!”
“Warlock Krank?” said Alix incredulously.
Schnecken nodded obediently. “Krank; right. Evil! Evil!!”
“Aroint thee, Krank!” Blintz intoned.
Alix looked stunned. “Aroint thee?”
Schnecken, Strudel, and Blintz were the town's leading citizens, which didn't say much for Gdink. Now they and the others started gathering dried mud and worse things from the cobblestones. Alix was quite bright enough to know what they were thinking, so she took off running as fast as her men’s tights and boots would now let her. The Gdinkers pursued, but they were slowed by the need to target their missiles, so the hail of garbage and stuff fell short. Alix ducked into a handy alley, then set down her stein and put her cap on. The burghers went thundering right past the alley, which looked quite empty to them, except for that stein sitting there on the pavement. As soon as the coast was clear, the princess carried on fleeing.
She was three streets away and still invisible when she paused for breath. As she stood puffing near a shuttered shop, the cobbled street suddenly rang with the clatter of horse shoes and ironbound wheels as a coach with four wagons behind it rumbled past her and stopped in a traffic jam at the steps of a large, well-lit building. A young man stood there, surrounded by servants.
The carriage door banged open and a middle-aged man bumbled out of it, nearly tripped on the coach step, and fetched up on the street. He was the size and shape of a very large barrel, with a round rosy face and a bushy moustache that turned up at the ends. He looked so hearty and cheerful that Alix had to smile at the sight of him.
The big man emitted a thunderous shout and embraced the younger man fiercely. “Splendid to see you, Jack, m’ boy! Sorry we’re late. Would have been here two hours ago, but we threw a wheel on that confounded hill and couldn’t find a wheelwright to fix it. Never seen a town equipped with a mountain, I must say. How have you been keeping?”
Grinning with affection, the younger man hugged him back. “Splendidly, father. Now go along; your welcome reception has already started.” He handed the big man off to a servant, who guided him up the steps. As he disappeared into the building, Alix heard him say, “So this is our embassy, is it? Jolly good!”
Surrounded by servants, coachmen, and carters, the young man gave rapid instructions, pointing to the luggage, the horses, the carts, and the alley next to the building. In what seemed like a minute or two, everything was unloaded and stowed and the horses and vehicles had disappeared. Alix watched him, smiling. There was something about him - she couldn’t say what - something, well, tingly.
Who were these strangers, anyway? As the young man disappeared into the large and brightly lit house, party sounds floated out of the open door, and snatches of dancing music. The big house was alive with people, and their music and laughter only sharpened her aloneness. Impulsively, she wanted more than anything to join them, meet them, talk to them.
>
Then Alix smiled sadly. She knew what she did to people, even if she didn’t know why. She knew her engaging remarks about solid geometry and the Peloponnesian War made people smile politely and excuse themselves. Why all she had to do was walk into the Unicorn Inn and people ran out screaming!
That made her remember all the weird things that had happened: her sleepwalking down to the town and the strange response of the burghers. Why didn’ they recognize her? Warlock? Aroint thee?? Absently, she took off her cap. As it happened, she was facing the shop window so she couldn’t help notice her reflection pop into view in it. She studied herself with eyes narrowed, thinking; then she put the cap on. Her image vanished. Cap off: she appeared; cap on: disappeared; off, on, off, on.Off. Somehow this cap made her invisible! “I wish I knew what was going on,” she muttered, nervously rubbing her hands.
As she looked in the window, ghostly script began to form on the glass; and when it stopped, the glowing letters spelled out a message:
Ye helmet of darkenesse is magick, Princesse.
Ye ring of blue is a wishinge ring.
Rubbe it and wishe what ye liste.
Wishing ring, Alix thought sarcastically; Magic helmet! besides, it’s only a cap. Still, strange things were happening. What did Galileo say? Always test every hypothesis. Right, then: rubbing the blue stone, she cleared her throat, “Wishing ring, take me back to the tower room!”
And suddenly there she was, in the light of the flickering torch, with old Max asleep at her feet.
Chapter 6
The Princess Awakens
Princess Alix inspected the wishing ring, cocking her head on one side. There had to be a scientific explanation; the only trick was to find it. “Hmm,” she said to old Max, who of course, hadn't moved, “let’s see what else it can do. Ring, I wish to be bathed and clean!”
A flash of blue light and Alix stood there, squeaky clean to be sure, but quite bare and sopping wet too. “Oops,” she murmured, “Ring: dry and dress me.”
Another blue flash and she was dry all right, but dressed in a court jester’s motley, complete with cap and bells.
“Ho ho that’s rich; now dress me in my best party clothes.”
Flash! The princess was wearing a silvery gown traced with gold, and the ring even threw in a bonus tiara. “I’ve got the concept,” said Alix, “you have to be quite specific.” She studied this wonderful tool. “Hmm, let’s see: I wish… I wish for 200 gooseberry pies.”
POP POP POP POP! The room filled to overflowing with freshly baked pies, oven-warm in the already stifling heat. She had not wished for pie pans, so the bakery mountain was already slumping into a mess of limp crust and drooling gooseberries.
“Impressive!” She nodded, but wished all the pies away again. “Oh, and stains off my gown, if you please.” The sticky red marks disappeared.
“All right, something really, really tough: ring, I wish for peace throughout the world.”
Nothing happened, but then, how could she instantly tell if a wish like that worked or not?
As Alix frowned at the ring, a new voice was heard in the empty storeroom, the dry, brittle voice of an ancient professor: “The ring does have its limits, you know.” Alix jumped and turned toward the sound.
The mirror behind her began to glow as the carved wooden owl on its frame came to life. Its yellow eyes shone with intelligence and it opened and shook its wood wings. “Glad to be up and about again,” it remarked, stretching gratefully. “Now pay attention, young lady: the ring can only grant wishes to you or those near to you.”
“Physically near or, um, relationship-wise?” Alix countered, to hide her surprise.
“Both,” said the owl in a fussy, pedantic tone.
“And what tricks can you do?” she went on, trying to regain the initiative.
“My glass can show you anything you ask for.”
“It can, eh? Then show the young man from the coach!” Her own face in the mirror dissolved to a scene at a ball. As Alix watched, the young man revolved into the frame as he gracefully danced with a lady, then rotated out again. “He’s the one!” Alix cried, “I wish to be back downtown!”
ZZAPP! and the princess popped up in Gdink - right in the fountain again.
But this time, the square was well-populated. “Krank’s back!” Blintz yelled.
“But he’s a girl again,” said Schnecken uncertainly.
Realizing her mistake, Princess Alix said the first destination she could think of. “I wish I were in… ah, ah, in the throne room!”
ZZAPP! Alix stumbled slightly and looked about her. Instead of the old palace throne room, she found herself in the City Hall council chamber, now converted to a makeshift audience chamber by propping two thrones up on unstable piles of boxes and books. The queen perched on one throne with her feet dangling above the floor, squinting to read in the light of one smoky candle.
“Mother! What are you doing in City Hall?”
Queen Athena didn’t look up from her book. “Attempting to read, my dear. What are you doing here, Alexandra?”
“The most amazing things, mother! I’ve found an old storeroom…”
“Well, don’t let your father find you; he’ll have six kinds of fit. You’re supposed to be locked up, you know - not that I mind; I believe I’m happy to see you.” She paused, looking thoughtfully at the candle, then said, “Yes, I am happy to see you.” Queen Athena dropped her eyes back to her book.
Alix’s feelings were not hurt. She knew that her mother loved her, from whatever planet it was that she lived on, and she was starting to see her own behavior in her mother. “Oh, right,” Alix said, “well, nice to see you, mother. Ring, I wish to be back in the palace storeroom.” She winked out of existence.
“Always pleasant to talk to you, dear,” said the queen, “drop in any time.” She turned another page.
Safe in the old storeroom again, Princess Alix paced the floor, thinking. “Specific; I have to be specific. Let’s see: I wish to be where, uh, the men from the coach went.” Once again, Alix winked out.
In the embassy downtown, the butler stood at the ballroom door and wondered how long his poor feet would hold up. Grunting with pain, he wiggled his toes in his too-tight shoes and returned his attention to duty. Not a moment too soon, either, because an amazing young woman was standing in front of him, waiting politely. He recognized her at once.
Too flustered to suck in a proper breath, the butler hastily bellowed, “HER MOST SERENE HIGHNESS, ALEXANDRA, FUTURE DUCHESS OF GEMEINSCHAFT, FUTURE ELECTRESS OF STEENSTEIN, AND CROWN PRINCESS OF SULPHRONIA!” Dangerously blue in the face, he sucked in a giant breath, as Alix floated gracefully into the hall, her tiara glinting in the light of massed candles and her silvery ball gown trailing behind her. Her rich auburn hair was piled in a chic coiffure and the blue ring had accessorized her ensemble with elbow-length gloves. She looked royal and gorgeous in equal measure.
The dancers divided like the Red Sea before Moses, murmuring comments like, Look: it’s our princess! Ooh, she looks beautiful! Yes she does clean up well. Wasn’t she locked away? Maybe the king forgave her. I hope so; poor princess!
The big man from the coach cut them short by bustling up to Alix as fast as his short legs and thick body let him. He bowed down until his stomach would not compress further and said warmly, “Alexandra, was it? Welcome, your highness!”
She nodded her head and smiled at this beaming giant. “I’m called Alix. And you, sir, would be…?”
“Wilfred, Lord Brambel, Your Highness, newly appointed ambassador from his Britannic Majesty.” He added helpfully, “English, you know.”
“You must be quite new; we haven’t yet met,” Alix said.
“Mm, only arrived an hour ago. Almost missed my own party.” Lord Wilfred and Alix were walking the length of the hall together.
“Have you begun your official duties?” she asked.
“Bit of a muddle, that. Banged on the door up at Slosh Slopstein or wh
atever it’s called - that is a hill and a half, what?”
Alix nodded and smiled. “By the way, you should fit a new set of coach wheels. The right front one was out of round too.” Lord Wilfred just stared at her. “And choose a size-larger diameter; the geometry’s better matched to your suspension.”
For some reason, as she explained this, she felt a faint hint of a strange new idea.
“I see,” said Lord Wilfred, who plainly did not. “Ah, in any event, we hallooed and banged on the castle door; couldn’t raise a blessed soul. Came back down here to hunt up the King.”
“Try City Hall,” Alix answered.
He looked even more confused. “No, not the mayor, the king…” Lord Wilfred broke off as he spied his son, who was advising a waiter on how to keep deviled eggs from sliding around on his tray. “Ah, Jack, my boy; come meet the princess. Your Highness, this is my son the Honorable Wilfred Brambel - well, of course it would be Brambel, wouldn’t it? Invaluable chap, though I say it myself. Came here ahead of me; manages everything, don’t you know.”
“I guess I do know now,” murmured Alix, who was not yet accustomed to British locutions. She turned to the young man. “I’m Alix,” she said in flawless English, one of her 17 languages. She noticed that he looked quite presentable, though his clothing was simple in contrast to his father’s exuberant costume.
His blue eyes sparkled when he smiled. “I’m officially Wilfred, Jr., but I prefer Jack.” When she raised an eyebrow he explained, “The other options were Freddy, Eddie, Willy, or Junior. I’d offer to dance, but I’m no good at galliards.”
Alix glanced briefly at the couples moving around them. “That dance is a canario,” she explained, “a galliard….” She broke off in mid sentence and asked herself, why was it important to correct him? The strange new idea drifted closer.
Jack looked at the dancers and smiled. “I do mix them up,” he said amiably, “thanks for putting me right.” He turned his smile on Alix and it was quite a smile indeed. “I’m always up for new things.” Jack offered his arm. “Will you show me how?”
* * * *
Alix and Jack danced the canario, the bouree, the gigue, the courante, the pavanne, and eventually even the galliard. Princess Alix, of course, had taught all these steps to the Royal Sulphronian Dancing Master, who of course, had then promptly resigned in a huff. Tonight she began improving Jack’s performance in them, as usual, but before long her expert advice simply dried up and stopped and she contented herself with smiling up into his face..
