They made excellent time, missing most of the morning traffic, and pulled onto the main – and only – road to Villenveuve by late that afternoon. The book shop perched on the edges of the tiny but bustling village, in between a baker selling long, crusty loaves of bread and a laundress taking in washing. Most of the people pushed carts or hurried by them, some giving them odd looks as they did.
“I guess they're not used to seeing a wizard, a minstrel, a bandit, a wolf, and a princess arrive in town in a rickety carriage,” Charles chuckled as Gene parked the carriage in a pasture with other conveyances.
“Shhh!” Brett nudged him. “Keep that bandit and princess stuff to yourself. We're normal folks, come to town to visit your uncle's good friend.”
“Do I have to wear this?” Bill tugged at the leather strip tied around his neck. “I'm not somebody's pet! At least you didn't muzzle me. I hate muzzles. She muzzled me, and was going to use me to track down people with magic!”
Gene waved him off. “This is the only way you'll be able to walk around in town. We don't want you to end up in the pound. You're lucky they didn't try throwing you in the slammer in Hans-by-the-Sea.”
They strolled into a tiny whitewashed store front, with colorful novels and brick-sized tombs on history and biology and farming displayed prominently in the windows. Inside, the sagging, dusty shelves groaned with books on every subject that existed. Tables displayed new books for reading and writing; another nook in the back showed off bright picture books for children.
“May I help you?” The little fellow sporting a yellow tunic and baggy brown hose, leaning heavily on one leg, made his way slowly to the counter. Wide dark eyes under thick round spectacles lit up when they fell on Gene. “Hey there, old friend! What brings you to our fair town? I thought you were staying in Nerdcrumbesia to keep an eye on Malade and find the royal family.”
Gene looked around him furtively before continuing in a much softer voice. “Hello there, Bill. Let's just say I decided to, er, get to the root of the problem. My friends and I are looking for the Legendary Princesses, before Queen Malade gets her hands on them. We found four, but two are still missing.”
The diminutive shopkeeper chuckled. “Oh, I see one all the time. She runs our local schoolhouse and buys her teaching materials from me. I imagine she should be around any minute. School just let out for two week's vacation a few minutes ago.”
“Mr. Cullen?” A bell rang, announcing the entrance of an extremely tall and thin woman. “Do you have the history and geography books I ordered? My third year students are moving on to the Columbia Eye-Peacock N Civil War after school resumes, and we really need those books on the movement of the troops at the front.” Sky blue skirts fluttered around long, skinny legs and simple navy flats; a flowing white blouse ballooned around the heavy books in her arms. Short gingery curls fluffed around large blue eyes.
He grinned and walked slowly out to her. “Hello, Marcia. I'm always glad to see my best customer. Your order is behind the desk. I hope your students find those books useful.”
“They always do.” She scrambled onto a ladder. “As for me...I'll borrow this one.”
“You've read it twice already!”
“I can't help it. It's my favorite. I guess I'm a sucker for a good, action-packed romance.” She brought it to the counter with the rest of her order, but Bill pushed it into her arms.
“It's yours, Marcia.”
Her coral-lipped grin nearly split her face. “Do you mean it, Bill?”
He shrugged. “No one else ever takes that one out anyway.”
“Marcia?” Brett grinned. “Beauty? What are you doing in this god-forsaken spot?”
“Snow White? Snowy?” The tall woman wrapped her thin arms around Brett's shoulders. “What you doing here? I thought you were staying at Password Palace with Jack to deal with...well, her.”
“We're here to help a friend.” “Snowy” frowned. “It's a long story, Marcia. I'll explain later.”
“Beauty?” The wolf stopped biting at his rump. “Beauty?” He got on his hind legs and put a paw on her leg. “Is your name Beauty?”
“Well, hello down there.” Marcia gave him a scratch on the balding spot between his ears. “You're friendly, for a wolf! Actually, my papa used to call me that. My real name is Marcia.”
“Princess Marcia,” Brett added, “of the Nerdocrumbesia court. I wondered what happened to you! You disappeared a few months before Malade invaded.”
“Well, I have to tell you.” The redhead sighed. “I left as soon as I heard what she did to the Summerlands. I'm not a fan of Malade taxing her subjects to death, and I knew what she'd do to Nerdocrumbesia as soon as she got her mitts on it. I figured this was as far away from the old court life as you could get.”
Gene winced. “You were smart to leave. Malade's taxing everyone left and right. That's why we're here.”
“Do you have a place to stay?” She gathered the heavy books into her twig-like arms. “I have a cottage on the end of Jacobs Street. I could put you all up there for the night, until you figure out what you're doing. It's nothing fancy, but it's better than the local inn.”
“Thanks, Marcia.” Gene smiled warmly. “I think we'll take you up on that offer.”
“That would be lovely, dear.” Richard's charming grin widened as he swept her books into his arms. “Here, let me help you with those.”
“Thanks.” She loaded three more books on the top of the pile, until all they could see were his eyes. “You're a peach, whoever you are.” She nodded at the book shop proprietor. “Why don't you join us for dinner? We'll have a real reunion.”
“I'd like that.” Bill Cullen eagerly shook Gene's hand, pumping it with more force than one would expect from a man his size. After he released the other wizard's hand, he reached into his pocket and waved a gray wand over a box of books, which vanished in a poof of smoke. “I should be around by dark. I just need to deliver these to a farmer on the outskirts of town.”
“You be careful, Mr. Cullen,” Marcia admonished. “That's awfully close to the Summerlands. Malade's forces were gathering over there. She doesn't like...well, she's not a fan of what you or I can do.”
Bill waved his wand again, making a coat appear on his arms. “It'll be fine, Marcia. I'm not going far. I swear, if I'm not at your cottage by dark, you can send the Sheriff's men after me.”
Richard's squeak peeped from behind the stack of books. “The Sheriff's men? As in the Sheriff of Nerdocrumbesia? What's he doing here?”
“Something about following bandits from Nerdocrumbesia. I think he's living in Hogan Manor near Crane Lake.” Marcia swept the remaining books into her own arms as Brett and Charles picked up a few more. “He's more of a pain than anything. Struts around, asking personal questions, annoying people...”
“Everyone, he's coming!” Gene yanked his head back in the door. “Richard, get out of here. Brett, stay with me. I have an idea.” He yanked her into a dark corner on the far end of the room. A wave from the wizard's silver wand, and the two suddenly blended into the shadows as if they'd never been there.
“Cullen!” Ira, the Sheriff of Nerdocrumbesia, shoved his way into the book shop. “What are you doing open?”
The diminutive bookshop owner raised an eyebrow. “Some people actually read things that aren't wanted posters.”
“Maybe.” Ira took in the room as his lip curled in obvious disinterest...until those roving eyes fell on Marcia. “Marcia! Beauty! You're looking every inch your nickname today. Here,” he grabbed her books, “let me take those.”
She grabbed them back. “That's sweet of you, Sheriff, but I already have plenty of help.”
“But you don't have me.” He dropped the books on the ground. “You know you want to marry me. I've got everything a woman could want.”
Marcia leaned over the copy of Pilgrim's Progress he'd stepped on. “Manners,” she muttered as she checked the book to make sure he hadn't damaged it. “You don't have those.”
“Why don't we be grown up about this?” He leaned over to pick them up...and look her right in the eye. “Marry me. I don't care about that magic of yours. I have wealth, power, position. You'd be well taken care of.”
“I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can do that myself,” she snapped. “If anything, I should ask for protection from you! This is the fifth time you've hit on me since you came here, and the fifth time I've said 'no.' I'm not interested in bearing your babies and being your little wife.”
“Look, Sheriff,” the wolf snarled, “the lady said she didn't want you. Why don't you leave her alone?”
Ira gave him a sickeningly sweet smile and patted him on the head. “Oh,” he cooed, “what a cute doggy! Here, boy! Good boy!” He yanked his hand back when the little wolf nearly bit his fingers off.
“Why don't you lay off, Ira?” Charles joined him, his back covering Richard. “He's not a dog, he's a wolf. And a grown wolf, at that. All you did was turn his stomach with the baby talk. And she said 'no.'” Richard quickly hustled out the door, still hauling the heavy books. “No means no. She doesn't like you. I'm not your biggest fan, either.”
Ira narrowed his eyes. “Stay out of this, minstrel. What are you doing here, anyway? You're lucky I don't arrest you on the spot for consorting with that...that Robin Hood and his men!”
“He's my new assistant,” Marcia threw out quickly. “He teaches drama and music to my students. That's still allowed here, you know.”
“Not for long.” Ira swept his hand around the room, sending a pile of Marcia's books flying. “Malade's coming. I wish she wasn't, but she is. She and her trolls will take over everything. Once she comes, there's no getting away from her.”
“Hey!” Marcia returned to stacking books. “Watch it! Don't you have any respect for good stories?”
“Yeah!” The little wolf nudged a copy of Gulliver's Travels as Charles leaned over to help gather novels that spilled under a table. “There's some great works of literature here!” His paw pushed one open. “I haven't read Pilgrim's Progress in years...”
“You read?” She gazed at him in surprise. “I didn't think...I mean, I didn't expect a wolf...”
“I'm not good at it, but I can read, and write, too.” He gently took the book in his jaws and placed it on top of her pile, doing his best to not get it wet. “There's not much to do at...well, where I come from.”
Ira did not like being cut out of the conversation. “I came to post this.” He shoved the thick white paper into Cullen's arms. “Hang this on your wall. That's an order from your sheriff.” He handed Marcia hers. “If you want to, darling, you can hang this on the side wall of your schoolhouse, or a tree outside. I don't want to upset your students.”
The book shop owner squinted at the small print and thick black lines on the artwork. “Robin Hood? What would a bandit want with our little town? Besides, I heard he mostly works in Nerdocrumbesia.”
“He hasn't been seen there in weeks.” Ira leaned another wanted poster in the window. “He's been a thorn in my side for two years now. My boss wants to marry him. I think she's spent too much time bent over the fumes in her workshop. The moment I get my hands on him, I'll make sure he gets in front of a firing squad faster than you can stack a pile of books!”
Marcia and Charles quickly gathered the remaining books in their arms. “Uh, yeah,” she added as fast as she could, “I wish you luck with that, Sheriff. We'll just let you protect all those law-abiding citizens and get going.”
“Wait.” He swerved around, taking in the entire area. “Weren't there three other people in this room a few minutes ago?”
“Customers.” The book seller shrugged. “They were on their way out.”
Ira started towards the door. “They looked awfully familiar...”
The door lead into a narrow back alley running between buildings. Narrow shafts of light illuminated the muddy strip of dirt and ragged grass. “See?” Marcia made a face. “There's nothing here. You're paranoid, Ira.”
“If you're done,” Cullen added as he shuffled over, “I really need to shut down the store now. I have deliveries to make in Beaumont, and I'd like to be back by nightfall.”
The sheriff's eyes widened. “You're not thinking of going that way? Near the Summer-Winter Castle? Don't you know it's haunted?”
“What?” Bill the wolf barked as he turned pale under his brown fur. “What makes you think it's haunted?”
Ira twisted his face and crooked his fingers in a scary pose. “Ever since Malade invaded and Prince William disappeared, people have heard strange noises at night around the Summerlands. Laughter, chatting, dancing, music...but no one is there. A huge monster howled at the moon and killed all who ventured there until a few months ago, and while the howling is gone, the voices remain.”
Marcia winked at Charles and Bill Cullen, then closed her eyes, raised a hand over a book...and made it float over Ira's head. He spun around the second the book dropped on a table. “What was that?”
Her eyes innocently tripled in size. “I didn't see anything. Did you see something, boys?”
“Not me.” Charles shook his head so hard, his toupee nearly flew off. “You must have imagined it.”
The second Ira turned around, a silver wand in the shadows let off a stream of orange light. It sent a book flying into the sheriff's back! “Ow!” Ira nearly jumped into a shelf. “Ok, I know someone did that. Come out, come out, wherever you are!” He waved a long, bony finger at Cullen. “Look, you shrimp, if you have anything to do with this, I'll arrest you and close this fire trap faster than you can shelve these damn dust catchers!”
Even as Ira spoke, Marcia closed her eyes, leaning against the counter. He'd no sooner gotten to the end of his rant than he'd found himself standing in mid-air, a good foot off the ground. “Ouch!” His head finally grazed the ceiling, even as he looked over his shoulder. “What in the...who's doing this! If I find out who's playing these tricks...”
Bill Cullen grinned. “It's the ghosts, Ira. They don't like you.”
“I'll get you for this, shrimp!” The force directed him to the back door, even as he blew kisses to Marcia. “Beauty, I'll see you tonight! Shall we say, 7:30?”
Marcia finally opened her eyes...and they blazed with blue fire. “How about I see you in hell?” The force tossed him to the alley behind the shops, where he crashed into two pigs rooting for food and a large metal container of garbage. She leaned out the door, glaring at him. “Oh, and by the way, we do not have a date for tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or any night. I wouldn't date you if you were the last man in the kingdoms! Which I wouldn't wish on anybody.”
Bill the wolf bared his teeth and tried to look mean. “So there!”
“Gene,” Bill Cullen called to the room as they returned, “wherever you are, thanks for helping us get rid of Ira.”
Gene and Brett appeared in a burst of orange and green sparkles. “You're welcome,” he added with a grin. “Anything for an old friend.”
“I got Richard out the door.” Charles swept another stack of books into his arms. “If he's smart, he's getting the cart over here as fast as he can.” He staggered over to Marcia under the weight of the heavy textbooks. “How did you do...what you did? I know you did it. I saw you close your eyes.”
She took the books from Brett and dropped them in a basket. “Oh, easily.” Her eyes closed again, and the basket floated onto her arm. “It's the way my mind works. I'm the Princess of Wisdom. In other words, this strange little mind of mine can make things move, vanish, dance a jig, and do all kinds of interesting things.”
“The same way I make plants toss trolls around. Magic.” Brett took her own basket. “Shall we move along?”
Marcia nodded. “Let's.” She gave Bill Cullen a hug. “See you later tonight?”
He patted her arm. “Wouldn't miss it.” A wave of his wand made the remaining books on the counter vanish. “By the way, is there anything you want while I'm out there? I should get a nice profit off of those books, enough to pick up a few things I need. What about you? More books for your class? A new dress? A necklace?”
Her hand went to her short russet curls. “You know, I'd like a red rose. I haven't seen a real rose since I left Nerdocrumbesia. They don't grow them around here. These people usual grow vegetables in their gardens. I used to like to put roses in my hair. It's about as romantic as I ever got.” She wrapped her thin arms around the kindly book shop owner one more time, then followed the others out the door.
Richard pulled up with the carriage just as they emerged, tugging his hood over his head. “Thanks for helping out there, Marcia,” he rasped, trying to make his voice deeper and not as recognizable. “I owe you more than you know.” He kissed her cheek, grinning under the hood.
She grinned. “Nice try, Robin Hood, but I'm afraid my heart already belongs to someone.”
Bill nudged Marcia in the side with a slight growl. “Who? Who has your heart?”
Marcia sighed, looking wistfully down at her book-filled basket. “Not long before I left, I wrote a nobleman in the Summerlands to ask him for help dealing with Malade and her weirdos. I never knew his real name, but he called himself Will. We wrote each other back and forth for over a year. He had terrible spelling, but he was witty and charming and told great stories. We really had something going for a while. He even asked me on a date in his last letter.”
“Well,” Brett continued gently, “what happened? How was your date? How come you never told me about him?”
“I never met him in person.” Her hands went to the book as her voice tightened. “Malade invaded the Summer-Winter Castle the day we were supposed to have a date in the rose garden. He said it was his favorite place in the whole courtyard. I later found out that everyone in the castle was either killed, taken as slaves, or disappeared.” One tear ran down a narrow pink cheek. “The letters stopped coming after that. Never found out what happened to him, if he died or was captured or poofed into thin air.”
“Marcia,” Bill gasped, butting his head gently into her side, “he's...castle...she...I...” He finally trailed off into soft, frustrated growls as he laid his head on her lap.
“Really?” She absently stroked his fur. “Wolf packs roam around the Summerlands at night, but no one's ever heard them talk, that I know of.”
“He's tried to tell us something since we found him,” Charles explained. “I don't know what it is, but every time he tells us where he's from and who transformed him, he ends up howling.” He gave Bill a small grin. “It's the only time he doesn't talk. Usually, we can't get him to stop!” Bill nipped a little at his heel, but it wasn't really mean.
“It's my mother's damn curse.” Brett's growl almost matched the wolf's. “I knew I recognized the black magic over you, Bill. I'll bet you were some poor guy who turned her down, and she got pissed off and turned you into this.”
Gene frowned. “That seems to be her favorite way of eliminating people who upset her. She turned me into a tree when she figured out I was trying to find the Legendary Princesses.”
Marcia grinned and leaned into his shoulder. “I thought you said you loved only me!”
“I did!” Gene tried to ignore Bill's glare as he put an arm around her. “Marcia, Marcia, you're the only princess for me,” he teased.
“Which reminds me.” Richard tugged at the reigns, taking the horses down a narrower road that overlooked the Beaumont River. “We've now located five of the six Princesses. Three are in secure locations with men who adore them and two are with us. If you've been counting on your fingers, that leaves one still missing.”
“The Princess of Air,” Gene added as they clopped past the sparkling river. “The most elusive of all. Marcia, do you know anything about her?”
She shook her head. “I wish I did. There hasn't been a Princess of the Air in years. The last one died in the Green Tomato Kingdom over a decade ago.”
The little cottage stood on the edge of the Summerlands Forest, in a sun-dappled clearing. It was tiny, and made even smaller by being stuffed to the thatched ceilings with books and papers. There was barely enough room for a bed, a couch, a chair, and a desk. The other room held a small table and chair and a fireplace.
“It's not a castle, but it's cozy.” Marcia lead them in, dropping her basket on a side table. “Move a book and find a place to sit. Bill, I'll set up a pillow by the fire for you to lay on.”
“You know, Miss,” the little wolf rambled, “this was really nice of you to let me stay with the others, but I, uh, have to go home. I live just beyond the woods. It's been a long time since I checked in with my, er, pack. I mean, people. They're probably worried about me. I really need to get back. I live in a place in the Summerlands. Big place. Really big. I have to go. Besides, I'm a wolf. Or part of one. I need space! I need to run! I need...I need to get going.”
“Well, all right.” Marcia opened the door to let him out. “Are you sure? There are wolves out there that aren't as nice as you, not to mention trolls and demons and who knows what else.”
“I'll be fine. I'm a wolf! Or partially. I'm tough.” He didn't even get away from the door before he turned to her and got up on his hind legs to lick her hand. “Thanks for...well, for being nice to me. You're a nice lady. I hope...I hope you find him. Or that he finds you. Or that, well, you find each other.”
“You know what?” Marcia rubbed his back hard. “I feel like I already have. Do you have to leave?”
“Yeah, I do. But I'll come back. I'll see you again. I...I like you.” He gave her a quick lick on her cheek with his rough tongue, then darted off between the trees. Marcia touched her cheek where he licked her before ducking back inside.
They had a lovely dinner that night. Marcia and Charles turned the quail that Richard brought home into a tasty stew with carrots and onions. They chatted long into the night over a roaring fire, with Charles playing songs on his lute and the others singing along. Gene swung Brett into a dance as the minstrel switched to livelier music. Richard bowed before Marcia, then waltzed around the room with her.
The song wound down just as the sound of a carriage rattled up the road. “I'll get it!” Marcia waved the others away, breathing hard. “Whew! I forgot how much dancing takes out of you. It's probably Bill Cullen. Come to think of it, he's late. He should have been here before dark.”
Bill's small horse cart rattled up the drive, but it held no driver. The horse galloped right up to Marcia, wild-eyed and breathing hard. Everyone else rushed out as she stroked his mane.
“This is Bill Cullen's carriage,” she murmured, “but where's Bill? What happened to him, boy?”
No sooner had she asked the question than an unearthly howl blew through the trees and spooked the horses again. Charles gulped, wrapping his arms hard around himself. “Maybe Ira was right about the Summerlands being haunted.”
“Nonsense.” Brett took the horse's bridle to calm him. “It's just the wind in the trees.”
Marcia jumped into the carriage and grabbed the reins. “Look, you guys can stand there all day and argue over what that noise is. I'm going to investigate. Bill – Cullen and the wolf – may be in trouble.”
Richard got in next to her as Brett shoved Charles in the back and Gene followed. “There's no way we'd let you go alone.”
“I don't believe in ghosts,” Gene sighed as they sprinted down the road, “but I do think there's something rotten going on.”
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