The Wide-Awake Princess
“Then there’s no need for me to go,” Emilio said, looking doleful. He glanced at Annie, saying, “You wouldn’t want me to kiss your sister if you knew more about me.”
“Emilio is a little self-conscious about his past,” said Cozwald. “He was married to a lovely princess who bore him two sweet children. They were living happily ever after until one day he rode past the swamp and his horse’s hooves splashed mud on a nasty fairy. The fairy was furious and turned him into a frog.”
“I lived in the swamp for season after season until a princess came looking for frogs,” said Emilio. “Apparently there was a shortage of available princes and she’d heard that kissing a frog was a good way to find one. She kissed me and was delighted when I turned into my old self, but when she learned that I was already married she dumped me for the next handsome frog to come along.”
“You mean handsome prince,” prompted Cozwald. A fly landed on Annie’s wrist, tickling her. She shook her hand to dislodge the fly and it flew off, buzzing. Emilio watched the fly go, his eyes tracking it as it zigzagged back into the swamp. Cozwald nudged his cousin with his elbow.
“That’s right,” Emilio hurried to say. “So I rushed home to see my family, only to learn that my stepmother had given my wife a poisoned apple and sold my children to a woodcutter who took them with him when he moved away. I’ve scoured the kingdom looking for them, but no one has seen them anywhere.”
“Emilio was a wreck,” Cozwald said. “My mother invited him to stay with us, but he was so depressed that he made everyone else depressed. After a few weeks, my father made him go home. He spends most of his time in the swamp now.”
“It’s the only place that doesn’t remind me of my family,” said Emilio, dabbing at unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “Even so, my memories torment me every minute of the day. My wife was as pretty as a swamp rose and even sweeter. Little Clara was only a baby when I was turned into a frog, but Tomas was a strapping lad who could already ride a horse and draw a bow. If I could have anything in the world, it would be to have my family with me again. Without them, life just hasn’t been worth living.”
Annie felt sorry for the poor man, but she could see how he could make everyone depressed. She wondered if they’d been a little hasty in making the offer to Emilio.
A tree branch cracked in the forest behind them. Emilio jumped into the air, landing three feet away. Muck geysered out from under his feet, splashing Annie with droplets from head to toe. He looked wildly around for a moment, then seemed to remember himself and came back to stand beside his cousin, looking even more downhearted. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Uh-huh,” said Annie. Not only was he depressing to be near, but it looked as though he hadn’t lost his froggie ways yet; she wasn’t sure she wanted him as her brother-in-law. Even so, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t help him if she could. “I might have met your children,” she said, trying to brush off some of the bigger clumps of muck. “At least, I met a boy named Tomas and his little sister, Clara. We were in a wicked witch’s cottage, but they ran away when we escaped. They said something about living with a woodcutter who wasn’t really their father.”
Emilio’s eyes lit up and suddenly he seemed younger and more alive. “That must be them! Where did you see them? Is it far from here?”
“The cottage was in the forest south of the royal castle of Treecrest by, oh, I’d say, twelve to fifteen miles. I met a bear who was an enchanted prince and asked him to keep an eye out for them. His name was Beldegard. He was very nice and I’m sure he would have kept the children safe, if he found them.”
Cozwald looked thoughtful as he rubbed his chin. “I used to know a Prince Beldegard. He was my aunt’s sister’s husband’s second cousin. A nice fellow, as I recall.”
“I have to go!” said Emilio. “My little ones need me! I’ll look for them until I find them, even if it takes me season after season. Thank you for telling me,” he said, taking Annie’s hand in his and giving it a hard squeeze. “I haven’t been this happy since before Voracia turned me into a frog. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get ready and—”
“Did you say Voracia?” asked Annie. “That’s who I’m looking for! She’s the one who cast the spell on my sister.”
“Then perhaps I can help you just as you helped me,” said Emilio. “Voracia lives only a few miles from here in the Great Greasy Swamp. I’d take you there myself, but I want to go find my children. Perhaps you can show them the way, Cozwald?”
“I think I should go with you,” said his cousin. “You may need my help.”
“Just give us directions,” said Annie. “I’m sure Liam and I can find it.”
After saying their farewells to Cozwald and his cousin, Annie and Liam rode around the edge of the swamp, looking for the way in that the princes had described. They were still looking a few hours later, crossing and recrossing the same general area, when they paused by a patch of ground choked with swamp briars.
“I think we should go back and start again,” said Liam.
“Just a moment,” said Annie. “I thought I heard something.” Dismounting from her horse’s back, she stepped carefully across the sodden ground and stopped to listen near a clump of bushes with longer prickers than the rest. A discordant series of notes drew her close enough to know that magic surrounded the bushes. “The path is this way,” she said, and kicked the closest plant. The entire clump broke free and rolled aside at her touch.
Liam tried to nudge his horse closer, but the animal tossed its head and refused to move. When he dug his heels into its side, the usually calm horse danced backward and fought the reins.
“It looks like we’ll have to walk from here,” said Liam.
Once again they tied their horses to a tree and started out on foot. The path twisted and turned, crossing over hillocks and narrow strips of land that wound between murky, weed-choked water and deep, scum-frothed pools. Some sections of the path were made of grass, some of stone, and some of crushed insect casings that glistened in the sunlight.
The sky became overcast as they moved deeper into the swamp. After a time the clouds seemed to settle around them as a thick fog smelling of dead things and rot moved in. The fog plagued Liam, swirling around him so that he couldn’t see the ground and had difficulty staying on the path. Annie didn’t have any problem, however; the fog thinned to pale wisps at her approach and crowded in behind her once she’d passed by. She might not have noticed when Liam missed his footing and sank knee deep in the muck if he hadn’t cried out in surprise.
“Need a hand?” Annie asked, reaching to help him.
“No thanks,” said Liam as he struggled to pull himself out of the muck. “I already have two. I would like to have my feet back, however.” Spying a low-hanging branch, he grabbed hold and tried to pull himself free, but it held for only a moment before breaking with a loud crack! Liam sat down hard in the mud. “I think the swamp is working against me.”
“Let me help,” said Annie, grabbing the back of his tunic.
Suddenly the mud that had held him like frozen molasses let go. Annie tugged and he slid back, nearly knocking her over when his shoulder hit her knees. She kept her hand on his sleeve as he clambered onto solid ground, but let go when he stepped away from her to stomp the mud from his feet. A vine immediately wrapped itself around his ankle and began to pull him off the path.
“I think you should hold my hand,” Annie said, extending hers toward him.
“That won’t be necessary—,” Liam began, but Annie grabbed hold anyway. The vine shuddered and let go. “Oh,” he said. “I guess it will.”
Liam’s hand was nearly twice as big as hers, the skin rough and the sides of his fingers calloused from long hours of practice with bow and arrows. She liked the way it enveloped her hand.
“Some of my non-magic transfers to you when we touch,” said Annie.
Liam nodded. “Like when you pulled me off the kelpie’s bac
k. I should have remembered that sooner.”
The look he gave her was warmer than that of a normal guard, or even a normal friend. His eyes lingered on her face, and she could feel heat rising up her neck to color her cheeks.
“Don’t let go,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I won’t,” said Annie, and she had to force herself to look away.
They had walked a good distance into the swamp and Annie was beginning to wonder if they had gone the wrong way after all when the path ended abruptly. Suddenly, the tall grass surrounding them began to wave furiously and two small figures the size of human infants jumped out, landing only feet away.
“What are you doing here?” asked the taller of the two. His sharp-featured face looked out from beneath a mass of feathery white hair, looking to Annie like a grumpy hedgehog in a patch of dandelions that had gone to seed. The black tunic and leggings that he wore were made from strips of sewn snakeskin that quivered when he moved.
The other sprite seemed shy, and stayed behind his friend to peek around his shoulder. His coppery red hair was the same color as his clothes, and his pale face looked ghostly white. His tunic, created from autumn leaves, made a crinkling sound when he brushed against the other sprite, shedding dried, leafy fragments.
“We’re here to see the fairy Voracia,” said Annie.
“Liar!” said the taller sprite. “No one comes to see Voracia. They come here because they’re lost or because someone has dragged them, kicking and yelling.”
The other sprite tweaked his friend’s pointed ear. “They might be ensorcelled, Poke ’Em. Or maybe they’re evil witches done up to look like no-account humans.”
“We’d better take them to Voracia. She’ll know what to do with trespassers.”
“Maybe she’ll turn them into slime mold like that man who wandered into the swamp last week.”
“I hope not,” said Poke ’Em. “I stepped in him the other day and he oozed onto my favorite shoes. I don’t think I’ll ever get the stain out. Come along, you two,” he told the humans, wiggling a stick in their direction. “Voracia will want to see you right away.”
The two sprites ushered Annie and Liam through the swamp, one sprite pinching them when they took too long crossing the squishy ground, while the other poked them with his stick when they lost their footing. Gray fog drifted across their path, evaporating at the sprites’ approach. Now and then Annie caught a glimpse of a large white outcropping in the distance. The fog hid it for a while, then there it was again, closer and even bigger, leering at them like an enormous skull carved out of stone.
They entered a part of the swamp where limbless, blackened tree trunks stood sentinel. A small flock of crows circled overhead, watching humans and sprites. Poke ’Em shouted at the crows, but it was his smaller friend who found pebbles and chucked them at the birds.
Once more the fog closed in, and even though it didn’t come near Annie and Liam, it kept them from seeing more than a few feet away. When the view cleared again, they were standing on a patch of dead swamp-grass twenty yards from what Annie now saw wasn’t stone at all, but the giant skull of the world’s largest bird, the roc.
The skull was located on an island not much wider than the skull itself. Annie eyed it with interest as she and Liam followed Poke ’Em. They were nearing the island when Liam bent down and whispered in Annie’s ear, “I’ve never seen a roc’s skull before. Where do you suppose the rest of it is?”
Poke ’Em waved his stick in their direction, gesturing for them to be quiet. Annie noticed that the little sprite held back and let his friend approach the island. The smaller sprite hadn’t seemed so mean the last few hundred yards, not since the last time he’d pinched Annie, and he’d begun to look less surly and more fearful. Poke ’Em was looking a little less nasty, too, even though he hadn’t touched her. Unlike his friend, he didn’t look the least bit afraid. He was about to say something when they heard muted voices coming from the skull.
“… the wickedest one in the land,” said a harsh voice.
“Well, you, but not by much,” responded a voice so faint that Annie had to strain to hear it. “There’s a new witch in the neighborhood whom everyone’s talking about.”
“What are they saying about her?” growled the harsher voice.
“Her name is Terobella and she’s almost as terrible as you. I heard that she eats baby bunnies and downy chicks for breakfast.”
“Sounds yummy,” said the voice that must have been Voracia’s. “Maybe I’ll have to invite myself over for breakfast. Where does she live?”
“In the deep dark swamp where the little snakelets dwell, where globs of scum float past your toes and give off a pungent smell.”
“You mean she’s my next-door neighbor?”
“That’s what I heard.”
“I’ll have to look into this.”
Annie could hear the grating sound of the fairy’s magic, but there was another sound as well. A faint melody repeated itself over and over and grew louder each time the whispery voice spoke, making Annie think it was the roc skull itself.
“By the way,” said the roc. “Pinch ’Em and Poke ’Em have brought two humans to see you.”
“Really?” said Voracia, and her face appeared in one of the roc’s eye holes. “Well, well, what have we here?”
“I just told you, Pinch ’Em, Poke ’Em, and two humans,” the skull replied.
“I know that, dummy! But who are they and what do they want?”
“Hmph!” said the skull. “I can’t answer that if I’m such a dummy. You’re just going to have to find out for yourself.”
Voracia scowled and thumped the edge of the eye socket with her fist, but when the roc skull remained silent, the fairy turned her glare on Annie and Liam. She was a tall woman with sharp, angular features and dark, sunken eyes. Her gown was black with the skulls of newborn baby mice dangling like beads from a chain around her neck. A copper and brown striped snakeskin wound through her silver hair, lending her outfit its only touch of color.
The fairy tapped her long, thin fingers against the bone of the skull’s eye socket. “Well, out with it! Who are you and why are you here?”
Poke ’Em prodded Annie and Liam with his stick, making them walk through a gap in the side of the skull. The air inside was cold and damp, and a draft rose from a set of steps that descended from just inside the back of the skull to deep into the ground. “Pinch ’Em and I found them wandering through the swamp,” said the sprite. “They said they wanted to talk to you.”
“They must be crazy,” said the skull.
“Toss them into the bottomless pool,” Voracia declared. “Normal humans are bad enough. I don’t need crazy ones lost in my swamp.”
“But we’re not crazy!” Annie hurried to say. “We weren’t lost, either. We came to the swamp because we need your help. You cast a spell on my sister sixteen years ago and we need you to tell us how to undo it.”
“How refreshing,” murmured the skull. “She’s using the direct approach. That hasn’t worked on Voracia in years.”
The fairy laughed. It was a jarring sound, like a sharp-toothed rasp scraping on metal, or an iron bar ramming home into the lock of a dungeon door. “Why would you think that I would want to help you?” the fairy asked.
“Because of what will happen if you don’t,” Annie said, and reached out to grab hold of the fairy’s wrist. Even in the few seconds that their skin made contact, Annie could hear the sound of Voracia’s magic growing fainter.
Voracia tried to pull away, but Annie tightened her grip until her fingers dug into the fairy’s flesh. “You’ll help me,” Annie told her, “because if you don’t, I won’t be able to help my family, so there won’t be any reason for me to go home. I might as well stay here with you then.”
“Uh, Voracia,” said the skull, its voice fading. “Something’s happening to me.” The sound of its magic stopped as the skull became silent.
“Let go of me, you
disgusting creature! How dare you touch me!” The fairy’s dark eyes snapping with fury, she thrust Annie away, whipped out her magic wand, and pointed it at the girl. “To the bottomless pool!” she screamed. A flash of orange light shot from the wand, hit Annie, and bounced back at the fairy, who vanished in an instant.
Annie hadn’t had time to cover her ears, so the sound of the rebounding magic hit her like a clap of thunder. She staggered back, falling into Liam’s arms.
“Where did she go?” Poke ’Em asked even as he backed away.
Liam’s lips brushed Annie’s ear when he bent down and said, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she replied. She let him help her to her feet.
Suddenly Voracia returned, dripping wet and furious. She staggered, bumped into Annie, and they both fell down in a heap on top of Liam. Annie set her hand on the fairy’s shoulder, trying to push her away. Voracia rolled off the two humans and hopped to her feet. The sound of her magic had dwindled even more in the brief time she’d been touching Annie, and her clothes looked older and more ragged than a dip in the water could make them.
Voracia tossed her head, flinging her hair behind her and showering Annie and Liam with droplets of muddy water. “How did you reverse my magic?” the fairy asked through clenched teeth. A freshwater snail oozed off her chin and plopped onto the floor, landing in the puddle of water that was forming around her shoes.
“I didn’t do anything,” Annie declared. “You did it to yourself.”
“Don’t be absurd,” the fairy said, raising her wand again. This time the orange light was pale and lasted for only a second, just long enough to make a soft fizzing sound.
Annie glanced behind her at the sound of splashing feet. Poke ’Em and Pinch ’Em were running away, jumping from hillock to patch of soggy ground even as a light breeze carried off the last wisps of fog.
“What kind of powerful magic do you have that you can do this to me?” wailed Voracia, her chin trembling. A dimple had appeared in her cheek and her features no longer looked so sharp.