buzzard. “It’s officially delivered, so I’m off. I’d read it right away if I were you. You don’t have much time since you’ve already slept away most of the morning.”
Grassina glanced out the window as one of the castle’s roosters crowed. The sun was just rising over the tops of the trees in the distance, and the first rays had yet to reach the cold stone walls. The buzzard flapped its wings and flew away, shedding a loose feather that drifted onto Grassina’s bed. She didn’t notice, however, because she was already trying to decipher her mother’s handwriting.
Grassina,
Get your lazy rump out of bed and go to your precious swamp. Find enough eggshells from just-hatched blackbirds to fill a washtub and bring them back to me before midnight tonight. If you fail to do this, go straight to the moat and make yourself comfortable, because I’ll be turning you into a slimy, loathsome snail.
Signed,
Queen Olivene (your mother)
P.S. Have Cook bring me some rotten grapes, stale bread, and a flagon of brackish water. Yesterday’s breakfast was so good I can’t wait to taste it again.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Grassina muttered, thinking about the size of the washtubs she’d seen in the kitchen. The task was so daunting that she was tempted to give up before she’d even begun, but she couldn’t—not if she didn’t want to become a snail for who knew how long.
This time when Grassina sought out a scullery maid, she asked for the smallest washtub. Unfortunately, even the smallest tub was unwieldy when the princess tried to carry it herself. Grassina staggered under its weight as she lifted it with both arms and lugged it out of the castle and across the drawbridge. She had to set it down twice so she could rest before reaching the tree house, groaning each time she picked it up.
Grassina was setting the washtub down once again when she thought about Pippa. It had been days since she had last visited the little snake, but she’d been so busy, she hadn’t had a chance. Grassina bit her lip. She hadn’t taken Pippa any food in all that time either, and with the queen’s magic keeping the snake inside . . .
Something crunched under her feet as Grassina approached the ladder. Broken glass sparkled on the ground, some of it still in the shape of feathers. Worried, Grassina hurried to the ladder and began to climb, almost falling when a rung snapped beneath her foot. She gripped the ladder with white-knuckled hands, her heart racing. After that she tested each rung before putting her weight on it and was relieved when she reached the platform. Her relief gave way to dismay when she saw the cottage. Wasps buzzed through the open window. Branches from the supporting tree had broken, smashing through the roof and some of the platform boards.
“It’s like the castle,” murmured Grassina. “When Mother changed, she stopped caring about a lot of things. She must have let the maintenance spells lapse.” Stepping over the larger debris, she set her hand on the door, which was sagging so badly that she had to give it a hard shove to move it out of her way.
More shards of glass littered the floor inside, and the copper birds were gone. The fire was out in the fireplace, where even the ashes were cold.
“Pippa!” called Grassina. “Are you here?”
At first there was no reply, but then over the creaking of the tree’s branches and the angry complaint of the wasps, Grassina heard a faint, almost tentative tapping coming from the wooden trunk in the corner. Skirting a branch that protruded through the ceiling, she reached the trunk and lifted the lid. Hector’s eyes were wild when he whinnied to her, but Marniekins looked even worse. Her dress was disheveled, her wool hair a stiff corona around her head. The poor doll was so upset that she couldn’t stop wringing her hands.
“Oh, Princess, I’m glad you came!” exclaimed the doll. “There was a big storm and the wind shook our tree and
Grassina glanced out the window as one of the castle’s roosters crowed. The sun was just rising over the tops of the trees in the distance, and the first rays had yet to reach the cold stone walls. The buzzard flapped its wings and flew away, shedding a loose feather that drifted onto Grassina’s bed. She didn’t notice, however, because she was already trying to decipher her mother’s handwriting.
Grassina,
Get your lazy rump out of bed and go to your precious swamp. Find enough eggshells from just-hatched blackbirds to fill a washtub and bring them back to me before midnight tonight. If you fail to do this, go straight to the moat and make yourself comfortable, because I’ll be turning you into a slimy, loathsome snail.
Signed,
Queen Olivene (your mother)
P.S. Have Cook bring me some rotten grapes, stale bread, and a flagon of brackish water. Yesterday’s breakfast was so good I can’t wait to taste it again.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Grassina muttered, thinking about the size of the washtubs she’d seen in the kitchen. The task was so daunting that she was tempted to give up before she’d even begun, but she couldn’t—not if she didn’t want to become a snail for who knew how long.
This time when Grassina sought out a scullery maid, she asked for the smallest washtub. Unfortunately, even the smallest tub was unwieldy when the princess tried to carry it herself. Grassina staggered under its weight as she lifted it with both arms and lugged it out of the castle and across the drawbridge. She had to set it down twice so she could rest before reaching the tree house, groaning each time she picked it up.
Grassina was setting the washtub down once again when she thought about Pippa. It had been days since she had last visited the little snake, but she’d been so busy, she hadn’t had a chance. Grassina bit her lip. She hadn’t taken Pippa any food in all that time either, and with the queen’s magic keeping the snake inside . . .
Something crunched under her feet as Grassina approached the ladder. Broken glass sparkled on the ground, some of it still in the shape of feathers. Worried, Grassina hurried to the ladder and began to climb, almost falling when a rung snapped beneath her foot. She gripped the ladder with white-knuckled hands, her heart racing. After that she tested each rung before putting her weight on it and was relieved when she reached the platform. Her relief gave way to dismay when she saw the cottage. Wasps buzzed through the open window. Branches from the supporting tree had broken, smashing through the roof and some of the platform boards.
“It’s like the castle,” murmured Grassina. “When Mother changed, she stopped caring about a lot of things. She must have let the maintenance spells lapse.” Stepping over the larger debris, she set her hand on the door, which was sagging so badly that she had to give it a hard shove to move it out of her way.
More shards of glass littered the floor inside, and the copper birds were gone. The fire was out in the fireplace, where even the ashes were cold.
“Pippa!” called Grassina. “Are you here?”
At first there was no reply, but then over the creaking of the tree’s branches and the angry complaint of the wasps, Grassina heard a faint, almost tentative tapping coming from the wooden trunk in the corner. Skirting a branch that protruded through the ceiling, she reached the trunk and lifted the lid. Hector’s eyes were wild when he whinnied to her, but Marniekins looked even worse. Her dress was disheveled, her wool hair a stiff corona around her head. The poor doll was so upset that she couldn’t stop wringing her hands.
“Oh, Princess, I’m glad you came!” exclaimed the doll. “There was a big storm and the wind shook our tree and
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