The Heart of Glass (20 page)

Fingle, after a decidedly tight-lipped inspection of the battered coach, released Gubble and harnessed the four white horses. At the same time, Marcus saddled Glee, and Gracie stood stroking the pony’s nose. “Will you be riding back with Marigold and Vincent?” she asked, trying to sound bright and cheerful and as if this was exactly what she was hoping Marcus had in mind. “Haven’t you got a wedding rehearsal today?”

“Oh.” Marcus looked bleak. “Oh. Yes. I suppose I have.”

Professor Scallio, having politely but firmly stopped Marigold midway through her third repetition of the horrors of the previous night, appeared beside him. “I’d say you deserve a day off, young man,” he said. “I’ll go back with my young friends here and”— a twinkle appeared in his eye —“I’ll make certain that your father knows how you saved Princess Marigold and Prince Vincent from the trolls.”

“
Saved
us?” Marigold burst out of the coach in fury. “SAVED us? It was all his fault we were there in the first place!”

The professor gave her a thoughtful look. “So did Marcus ask you to wear your sister’s wedding dress and drive to the edge of the Five Kingdoms?”

His tone was one of polite inquiry, but Marigold blushed a deep and unattractive plum color. “No,” she said grumpily. “No, he didn’t. But he did ask me to go on an adventure.”

“And now you’re safely back,” Professor Scallio said smoothly. “Something to tell your sisters about, I’d imagine. Very few princesses have ever had an experience such as yours.”

This was an aspect of adventuring that Marigold hadn’t thought of. She was silent for a moment, then said, “Yes. Well. I was rather brave, wasn’t I?”

“You screamed a lot,” Marcus pointed out unhelpfully.

“That,” the professor said, “is only to be expected in a young person of Princess Marigold’s extreme sensitivity, and something you will never mention again.” He gave Marcus a warning glare.

Marigold hesitated. “OK,” she said at last. “I give in. Marcus rescued me and Vincent. But I was very, very,
very
brave.”

Marcus swept her a deep bow. “The bravest princess there.”

The professor hastily opened the coach door. “Time to return you to your mother, Princess. She has been most concerned for your welfare.” He turned back to Marcus. “I’ll tell your father you’re seeing Gracie safely home and you’ll be back later, or even tomorrow.”

“What about the rehearsal —” Marigold began, but Vincent took her arm.

“Wouldn’t it be much nicer to go home on our own, darling?”

Marigold bit her lip and looked angrily at Marcus and Gracie. At last she shrugged. “All right. We can practice walking together without him interfering, and if he’s not there, Fedora will see how unreliable he is.” She climbed into the coach, and Vincent followed her, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Professor Scallio beamed at Marcus and Gracie and swung himself up beside Fingle. “My regards to the crones,” he told them. “Tell that sister of mine I’ll be seeing her soon.”

“Strange, that, kiddo,” Marlon remarked as he flew in a circle around Gracie and Marcus, closely followed by Millie, Alf, and Flo. He waved a wing at Gracie. “Trueheart effect. Works like magic — except on princesses.”

Gracie smiled, then put up her hand to cover a yawn. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m really tired.”

“Arf.” Gubble, who had been dozing on the roadside, woke with a start. “Arf. Cake?”

“Good thinking.” Marcus brightened. “Let’s go and see if there’s any left.” He turned to Gracie. “You ride Glee, and I’ll walk with Gubble.” He helped her into the saddle.

As they began to walk away, the ever-observant Alf noticed that Marcus’s hand was resting on top of Gracie’s. “Wheee!” he squeaked. “Two-by-two stuff —”

“Shh!” Millie cannoned into him and rolled him over in midair. “Don’t you say another word, or I’ll tell Dad that you kissed Flo!”

Alf stared at her in astonishment, while Flo twittered in embarrassment. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t. It was a lucky guess!” And Millie chortled as she whizzed out of her cousin’s reach.

Gracie, hearing the squeaking but unaware of the cause, turned around. “Flo!” she called. “Flo! Are you coming with us? Aunt Edna’ll cure your hay fever in no time.”

Delighted by the invitation, Flo recovered herself sufficiently to zigzag her way onto Gracie’s shoulder. “Thank you ever so much,” she said. “But do you know what, Miss Gracie? I haven’t sneezed once since we had that party last night.”

“Maybe it was the tunnels that made you sneeze,” Gracie suggested. “But you’re still very welcome to come with me.”

Flo dithered and looked coy. “Actually,” she whispered into Gracie’s ear, “I might just stay with Alf, if you don’t mind.” She stroked Gracie’s cheek before circling up to join Alf and Millie, and Gracie watched her go with a fond look.

“Hurrah!” Alf did a victory roll. “We’ll give you a guard of honor all the way back home, Miss Gracie! Me and Millie and Flo and Unc . . . Unc? Uncle Marlon — where are you?”

Marlon, perched in between Glee’s ears, sighed. “He’s a good kid at heart. But noisy . . . very noisy.”

I
n the House of the Ancient Crones, Edna inspected the shimmering silver web with a snort of satisfaction. “No trouble there,” she announced. “I expect Gubble and Gracie and Marcus will be back soon.”

The trainee crone sitting beside her hiccuped, and Edna looked at her suspiciously. “Are those cake crumbs on your dress? Chocolate cake crumbs?”

Foyce looked guilty. “They might be.”

“Hmph.” The Ancient One gave her a considering look. “We’ve still got a way to go with you, Foyce, but at least you’re admitting when you’ve done something wrong. Now, leave what you’re doing and go and find Val and Edna. I want a fresh chocolate cake made as soon as possible, and a large pot of tea.” She squinted at the sun outside. “You’ve just about got time.”

Sure enough, by the time Marlon came flitting in through the window to announce Marcus, Gracie, and Gubble’s arrival, the smell of baking was heavy in the air. Gubble headed straight for the cake plate with a determined expression on his face; it took all Gracie’s powers of persuasion to get him to agree to being washed first, and then having his bruises treated.

The Ancient One sat back in her chair and inspected Marcus. There was stone dust in his hair, and the royal tailor would never have recognized his clothes under the layers of dirt, but something about him must have been satisfactory, because Edna was smiling. “Enjoyed yourself?” she inquired.

Marcus scratched his head. “Kind of. Gracie was heroic. She nearly got herself killed, but she hasn’t said a word about it.”

“She’s a Trueheart,” Edna said, and sighed. “Not always an easy life. It’s good that she’s got you as a friend.”

“Is it?” Marcus asked, surprised.

“You make a good team,” Edna told him. “You’re loyal and truthful, and you’re very fond of each other.”

A slow blush crept up Marcus’s neck, over his face, and into his dusty hair. “I’d do
anything
for Gracie,” he said fiercely.

“Good,” said the Ancient One. “Maybe you should tell her sometime. Now, go and have your tea. That cake smells as if it ought to be taken out of the oven right this minute.”

I
t was difficult for Marigold to tell her story. When she and Vincent finally reached Dreghorn, her mother burst into tears as soon as she saw the battered coach. The queen continued to weep copiously all through Vincent’s disjointed and rambling explanations, and she refused to believe that her daughter had been returned to her safe and unharmed. “Oh my poor darling girl whatever have they done to you when Fedora’s pretty pony came trotting up the drive — and I will
not
tell you what Fedora said on that subject as no daughter of mine should ever have spoken in such a way or used such terms of abuse — I just knew you were lost to me lost lost lost and gone forever and ever and ever — and with the wedding so near and everything all but organized and what was I to do . . .”

Hortense and Queen Bluebell bore with her as long as they could, but in the end a glass of icy water was called for, and Queen Kesta, water dripping from the end of her nose, finally came to her senses. Even then she was unable to ask any coherent questions, as Fedora seized the moment to list her own complaints and to inform Marigold that she was most certainly
not
going to take any part in the wedding, and if she thought she was going to be a bridesmaid, she was very VERY much mistaken.

This tirade set Queen Kesta off again, and Bluebell took Fedora by the elbow and marched her away to hear a few home truths. She then did the same with Marigold, with the result that the sisters, both extremely red-eyed and apologetic, kissed their mother and each other and made up.

“So now,” Hortense said hopefully, “we can all look forward to a wonderful wedding.”