The Salamander Spell (6 page)

“I thought we came to the stable because we didn’t know where else to look,” murmured Chartreuse.

“Shh!” said Grassina, darting an angry glance at her sister. Turning back to the spider, she smiled and said as graciously as she could, “We’ve come to ask if we might have a selection of your finest webs.”

“What sort of special project?” asked the spider, sounding interested in spite of itself.

“Don’t you dare listen to her, Corinne,” whispered the spider named Inez. “You can’t trust a web beater.”

“She didn’t beat your web,” said Corinne. “The other one did.”

Inez turned from Grassina to Chartreuse. “They all look alike to me.”

“Tell me about the project,” Corinne said again.

“Oh, right, the project.” Grassina thought fast, trying to come up with something convincing. “My mother is the queen. She’s made a wager with another queen that our spiders are finer weavers than any human in her kingdom. Of course Mother wants the best webs she can find to show the other queen—”

“Then it’s no wonder you came here,” said Corinne. “But you were going about it all wrong. Here, I’ll show you.” The spider darted to the edge of the web and worked one of the anchoring threads free. “You can have this one. It’s one of my best efforts, if I do say so myself.”

“Don’t do it, Corinne!” shouted Inez. “They don’t deserve it.”

“Stop being an old stick in the web,” said Corinne, loosening a second thread. “I’ve heard about contests like this. The spiders always win if their webs are half decent. I’m giving the queen the best webs we have.” Working on one thread after another, she freed the web until it began to sag.

Olivene had made the girls boil vinegar to wash the webs, then gave them a gray powder to mix with the vinegar, saying, “That should do the trick!” The resulting concoction had smelled so strong that Chartreuse had made Grassina lug the pail to the stable, saying that the odor gave her a headache. Grassina crinkled her nose at the smell as she held up the pail to catch Corinne’s falling web.

“Is this going to take much longer?” Chartreuse asked, stifling a yawn. “It’s getting late, and I would like to get to bed sometime tonight.”

“How many more do you need?” the spider asked Grassina. “Morris! Francine! Your webs should do very well. The queen will need one of Astoria’s special weaves, too. Tori, if you undo that end, I’ll get started on this one.”

By the time the spiders had finished donating their webs for the queens’ wager, Grassina had collected more than two dozen. Chartreuse waited impatiently at the stable door while Grassina thanked the spiders.

“That was some story you made up,” Chartreuse said as her sister joined her.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have lied, but what did you expect me to tell them—give us your webs so our mother can use them in a potion? I’m sure that would have gone over well.”

Chartreuse patted her sister on the back. “Don’t be so prickly. I thought your story was good.”

“Maybe,” said Grassina, “but I didn’t like deceiving them that way.”

“Don’t let it worry you. They’re just bugs.”

“So it’s all right for a princess to lie to certain people?”

“Certainly not, but spiders aren’t people, are they? Now, let’s finish these horrid webs. I’m sick of them already.”

“Where should we wash them?” asked Grassina.

“Your chamber will do. The smell will keep me awake if we do it in mine. Your room already reeks of all those plants you have drying.”

“I’d rather have it smell like herbs than the way that kitten makes your room stink,” Grassina muttered as she shifted the weight of the heavy bucket from one hand to the other.

Whatever the powder was that their mother had given them, it kept the webs from clumping or dissolving and made them sparkle as they sloshed around in the pail. Grassina’s burden seemed to grow heavier as she climbed the stairs, and she had to stop now and then to rest. Chartreuse finally offered to take a turn, but she did it grudgingly and complained the entire time.

The stars were shining outside Grassina’s window when the girls reached her room. Rather than find someone to light her candles for her, Grassina borrowed a flame from a torch in the hall and lit them one by one. A draft from the window made the drying plants hanging from her ceiling rustle and carried their pungent odor down to the girls. Chartreuse wrinkled her nose, but Grassina liked the smell and turned her face up with a sigh.

“What are you waiting for?” said Chartreuse. “I don’t have time for this. Don’t you realize how late it is?”

“Oh, I realize . . . ,” Grassina grumbled, reaching for the bucket, “since you keep reminding me.” Although she washed the first web by herself, she was afraid it would tear when she took it out. “Help me with this,” she said, glancing at Chartreuse.

“Say
please
,” her sister told her. “Princesses must never forget their manners.”

“Please,” Grassina said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t see why you can’t do it yourself,” Chartreuse said as she helped carry the dripping web to the windowsill. After they’d draped it over the ledge, she shook her hands to dry them, splattering her sister with droplets.

“I’m sure you can handle it from here. It shouldn’t take you much longer, so I’ll be off to bed now.”

“We’re supposed to do this together,” said Grassina.

“We did. I have to go. I’m too tired to stay awake a minute longer.”

“We’ve barely started . . . ,” Grassina began.

“Good night, Grassina,” Chartreuse said pointedly as she closed the door behind her.

Grassina reached into the pail for another web. The vinegar was cold and stung the little cuts she hadn’t known she had, but she handled the webs as carefully as she could. It was very late when she realized that only a few remained in the pail. Even so, the castle wasn’t completely silent. The sound of the guards making their rounds on the battlements carried through the still night air. The yowling of cats in the courtyard seemed extra loud and made Grassina feel edgy. She was relieved when a hound broke up the catfight.

When she’d laid out the last web to dry, Grassina tumbled into bed and fell asleep instantly. It seemed only a few minutes had passed before she woke to a voice screeching in her ear, “Get out of bed, you lazy lump!” Startled out of a deep sleep, Grassina lurched bolt upright with her heart trying to thud its way out of her chest.

Olivene stabbed her collarbone with one long, crooked finger. “It’s almost dawn. Why are you lying around when you have work to do? I need you to find me a toad with seven warts.”

“Can’t I sleep a little longer?” Grassina asked, rubbing her eyes. “I was up most of the night washing the spiders’ webs.”

“No, you can’t sleep! I need that toad now if I’m going to get my potion to work. Your sister is already on her way to her next chore. Why can’t you be more like her? Get up and get busy!” Olivene waved her hand, using magic to tilt Grassina’s bed so that it stood on end, dumping the girl and all her bedding onto the floor.

“Ow!” Grassina exclaimed. Untangling herself from her blankets, she glared at her mother. “You didn’t have to do that! I was going to get up.”

Olivene cackled and rubbed her knobby hands together. “I know! That’s why it was so much fun.” Turning to leave, she stomped out the open door, stopping only long enough to say, “Make your bed before you go anywhere. This room is a pigsty! Say, that gives me an idea—” Olivene pointed her finger at her daughter, but before she could do anything, Grassina had scrambled off the floor and slammed the door in her mother’s face. The sound of hysterical laughter faded as Olivene walked away.

Grassina looked at her upended bed and bit her lip. It had been five days since her mother had become this awful creature, and every one of them had been terrible. Fortunately, Grassina had learned a lot since then, such as what she could and couldn’t do around the queen. She knew better than to show fear in her mother’s presence or to let her see that she was upset. It had surprised her to learn that standing up for herself was her best defense because it seemed to amuse her mother instead of making her angry. Chartreuse had yet to learn any of this, however, even though she’d spent the first day as a chicken.

It didn’t help that Olivene had decided to make the girls assist with her magic, sending them on errands and giving them chores around the castle. Claiming that she didn’t trust anyone but her own daughters to do the work, she’d had them collect milkweed pods in barrels, then made them take off their shoes and stockings, climb into the barrels, and stomp on the pods until the milky liquid squelched between their toes. Olivene had siphoned off the milk herself while sending the sisters to collect old snake skins from the woodpile and press them with hot irons, being careful not to damage the scales. Although they hated that job, it was less taxing than collecting the rainwater that puddled in the right footprint of left-handed people. That chore had taken most of one drizzly afternoon and had given both girls the sniffles. Not only had Olivene been unsympathetic, but she’d seen them returning to the castle and had immediately sent them to gather the dust under the benches on the western side of the Great Hall.

Grassina sighed. Finding the toad wouldn’t be easy, but at least she could do it in the swamp, away from her mother’s ever-watchful gaze. As she righted her bed and straightened the bedding, she wondered what chore her mother had devised for Chartreuse. A least they wouldn’t be working together.

“Iss she gone?” whispered the little snake, whom Grassina had named Pippa. Complaining that she was cold, the snake had taken to sleeping under the blankets at the foot of Grassina’s bed at night. Having a snake sleeping beside her feet had made Grassina nervous at first, but she and Pippa had soon grown used to each other. Each day after Grassina got out of bed, Pippa explored inside the castle walls, where she ate the mice that threatened to overrun the castle now that Queen Olivene was no longer maintaining her housekeeping spells.

Grassina had wrapped the snake’s injured tail in a bandage, immobilizing it so it could heal. Because the tail was mending nicely, Grassina was already thinking about where she’d release Pippa when she was completely healed. Unfortunately, if the queen was going to make unannounced visits to Grassina’s room, the chance that she might see the snake was something they couldn’t risk.

“She’s gone,” Grassina said, feeling guilty that she hadn’t done more to hide the snake. This was the first time her mother had visited the room since she’d changed, but Grassina was mad at herself for thinking that meant Olivene never would. Bending down, she picked up Pippa, saying, “You can’t stay here any longer or Mother will see you. Who knows what she’d do to you then.”

The little snake sighed. “It’ss my fault your mother actss the way she does. My bad luck changed her, and it keepss making her do awful things. You never should have brought me here. Don’t missunderstand; I’m grateful for all you’ve done. You’ve given me a ssafe place to ssleep and all the fresh mice I can eat, but I jusst know you’d be better off without me.”

“That isn’t true!” said Grassina. “I told you before, I don’t believe in your so-called bad luck. I’m sure that witch blamed you for all her problems because it was easier than blaming herself. If she’d patched her roof, or shut her door, or stayed awake, none of the bad things you mentioned would have happened. And as for my mother—my father would have brought her the flowers whether you were there or not. You had nothing to do with the curse. Now come with me and I’ll take you somewhere safe where no one will bother you until your tail finishes healing.”

“Will I be alone there? I don’t want my bad luck to hurt any of your friendss.”

“But I just told you . . .” Grassina shook her head and sighed. “Yes, you’ll be alone, although I will come to see you as often as I can.” With Pippa wrapped around her wrist, Grassina stroked the top of the little snake’s head and wondered if there really was anywhere she could take her that would be truly safe.

Six

T
he guards had grown used to lowering the drawbridge early in the morning so the princesses could do their mother’s bidding, which made it easy for Grassina to smuggle Pippa out of the castle. What wasn’t so easy was getting the little snake to stay hidden when she wanted to see everything that was going on around her.

Grassina had almost reached the drawbridge when Chartreuse called from the center of the courtyard. “Grassina! Wait for me!”

Although she considered pretending not to hear, Grassina knew Chartreuse wouldn’t believe her. Sighing, Grassina stopped and turned, hoping she wouldn’t have to wait long. Instead of hurrying, however, Chartreuse dawdled as if looking for someone, glancing back at the castle as she walked. Finally, a young man came through one of the doors. Chartreuse’s face lit up, and she waved gaily when he looked her way. It was Prince Miguel, dressed for a morning ride.

While Grassina watched her sister smile coyly and laugh at something the young man said, Pippa poked her head out of the leather sack the princess was carrying. Grassina didn’t look away from the flirting couple until she felt the little snake wiggle, making the sack thump against her hip. “What
are
you doing?” Grassina asked. “I told you to stay hidden.”

Pippa peered up at her. “I wanted to know why we sstopped. It’ss imposssible to ssee anything from insside thiss sstuffy old bag, and the rockss in the bottom pinch my tail. I ssupposse it could be worsse though. With my luck it could have been filled with prickerss.”

Grassina glanced at the closest guard. “Shh! Keep your head down,” she whispered to the snake. “We stopped so we could wait for my sister.”

“Really?” said Pippa. “I’ve never met your ssisster.”

“And you’re not going to, either. She’d probably scream and make a fuss, which is something I’d rather avoid.”

“I bet she’ss like mosst humanss and doessn’t like ssnakess.”

“Lately, the only creatures she likes are handsome princes, so unless you’re really an enchanted prince . . .”

Pippa sighed. “I’m not an enchanted anything, although I wish I were. Then maybe my luck would be better.”