My Very UnFairy Tale Life (3 page)

Chapter 5

My hair whipped around my head as the monster flew past. With its shimmering wings and silvery, round body, it looked like a cross between a dragonfly and a submarine.

“Halga, you bewitching ogre!” I heard Crong cry from somewhere nearby.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, realizing both frogs were standing in plain sight. “Get down!”

“No need to fear, Mistress,” said Crong. “Halga is an old friend.”

The ground shook under us. I looked up to see the beast landing nearby on two elephant-like rear legs. Her head reminded me of a silver ant's, but the center of her back was lined with what looked like dinosaur spikes. As I stared up at her narrow face, I could swear the monster was wearing glittery eye shadow around her buggy eyes.

“Crong, is that you?” the beast asked in a booming voice.

“It is indeed!” said Crong. “Is guarding castles how you're keeping busy these days?”

Halga shrugged her giant, silver shoulders, her wings fluttering behind her. “Not many job openings for washed-up actresses,” she said.

I dared to raise my head a little higher as Crong hopped to the beast and gave her giant toe a big hug. “Is it really safe?” I asked Ribba.

Ribba flicked her tongue. “Halga's pretty harmless, even though she could use some serious makeup tips. But Crong can't control himself around her. He's the one you need to keep an eye on.”

I watched as Crong tried to tickle Halga's enormous foot. The beast let out a giggle, sending out a gust of wind that made my head snap back. Then Crong waved his froggy legs around and—
poof!
—a sparkling rock appeared.

“It's beautiful!” cried Halga, scooping the rock up with one of her front claws. Her nails were covered with sparkly polish. “And so shiny!”

Ribba hopped onto my shoulder, her green lips pressed together. “They used to be a couple back in their theater days,” she said. “But after Crong joined the League, they were always on different sides of the kingdom. He still talks about her
all
the time.”

I couldn't stop staring at the couple. It was the weirdest pairing I'd ever seen. One misstep from Halga, and Crong would be crushed.

Then an angry horn sounded nearby, snapping me back to reality. “Crong!” I called.

The frog held up one of his tiny hands as if putting Halga on hold and then hopped to my side. “Yes, Mistress?”

“Now that we're at the castle, how do we get to the dungeon?” Besides the oversized wooden door, there didn't seem to be another way in. I couldn't even see any windows.

“I was just discussing strategy with Halga,” he said. “She has no loyalty to Klarr, you may be sure. She will see to it that we get inside safely.”

“Good. Then we'd better go now. I don't know what that horn was, and I don't want to find out.”

“Halga has informed me there is an entrance nearby that will lead us straight to the dungeon.” He pointed in the direction of one of the towers. Now that we were up close, I realized the towers' roofs were covered in red-and-yellow-striped fabric. Klarr certainly had some interesting decorating ideas.

“How many guards will there be in the dungeon?” I asked.

“Most likely dozens,” said Crong, “but fear not. With our magic and your, er, adventurousness, we should have no troubles. Halga will guard the entrance from the outside so that we will not be followed.” He gazed lovingly at the beast.

“All right. Let's go.”

We went around the castle, weaving our way through enormous bushes and trees until finally we came to the dungeon entrance. It was little more than a big hole in the wall with stairs leading down from it. Crong and Ribba hopped in first. Then it was my turn to go through the door.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, and I had to look down the entire time to keep from stumbling on the uneven steps. By the time we finally saw a light below, my neck was aching from being bent at the same angle for so long.

I gave the frogs a signal, and together we burst through the doorway at the bottom of the steps. We found ourselves facing three oversized guinea pigs dressed in shiny armor. I could just imagine how thrilled Aunt Evie would be to meet guinea pigs that stood on their hind legs and were nearly as tall as I was.

The guards scrambled to clap small, flat plates of metal over their furry mouths and secure them in place with rubber bands. Since Klarr hated mouths, I figured the masks were part of the guards' uniforms.

“What are you doing in here?” asked one of the guards, his voice muffled by the metal plate.

“Why do you have mouths?” asked another.

“Have you come to hurt us?” asked the third as he cowered behind the first two.

“To answer your questions,” said Crong, “we are here to rescue one of your prisoners. We have mouths because we were unaffected by the Silence. And if you do not let us pass, we
will
be forced to hurt you.”

The guards looked terrified for a moment. Then they all let out high-pitched squeals and started trying to scamper away on all four legs. But since they were all running in different directions, they only managed to crash into each other. Then they began to apologize.

“I didn't see you there.”

“No, it was my fault.”

“Is my nose bleeding?”

The first two guards crowded around the third and peered at his pink nose. They had completely forgotten about us.

I could have watched this circus for hours, but I knew it was only a matter of time before more guards came. We couldn't count on them all being clueless.

“Crong,” I whispered, “can you conjure some rope and tie the guards up?”

The frog seemed uncertain for a moment. Then his green face took on a determined look. He waved his tiny arms around until there was a soft
poof!
and a thick rope appeared in front of him. Carefully, Crong conducted the rope through the air so it flew toward the guinea pigs and circled around them. In a minute, all three were tied tightly together.

“Hey!” one of the guards said, finally realizing what was happening.

“You tricked us,” said another.

“Why would you do that?” asked the third.

“Sorry,” I said. “We're on a mission.”

We went down the stone corridor, leaving the guards' pathetic squeals behind. As we went deeper into the dungeon, it got colder and gloomier. I couldn't imagine the prince, or anyone else, having to live here. A few feet away from the first set of prison cells, I spotted a bunch of keys hanging on the wall.

“Well, that's lucky. Seems they're not too big on security here,” I said. “Let's split up.”

“But how will you know what the prince looks like?” said Ribba.

“He's a mouthless lamb, right?” I said as I handed out the keys. “I think I'll be okay.”

Crong and Ribba headed down one hallway, the keys in their mouths. I ran down another corridor, unlocking door after door. Dozens of startled eyes stared back at me through the bars, most of them belonging to various mouthless animals.

Finally, I came to the end of the hall, but there was no sign of the prince. I backtracked and headed down another hallway. At the end was a mouthless boy around my age. Not having a mouth looked even stranger on a human than it did on an animal.

“It's okay,” I told him. “We're getting you out of here.”

I was just about to unlock his cell door when a horn sounded from down the hall. I whirled around to see Ribba and Crong hopping toward me. A huge, hooded figure was on their heels.

“Mistress, it's Klarr!” said Crong. He turned and shot a beam of light out of his tiny hand, but the sorcerer waved his meaty arm and the beam hit the wall instead.

“Let's get out of here!” I cried as Crong raced to catch up with Ribba.

The two frogs leaped into the air. I braced myself as they sailed onto my shoulders.

The hooded figure was getting closer and closer. He was massive but surprisingly graceful for his size. The hood fell back, and I caught a glimpse of Klarr's face. I couldn't help it: I screamed.

Until that moment, I'd had no clue that Klarr was a clown. But he wasn't just a clown. He was the most terrifying clown I'd ever seen.

His face was painted white; his eyes were outlined with every color of the rainbow; and his curly wig was blood red. Where his mouth should have been was a set of drawn-on lips. They were grinning.

The floor shook under my feet as Klarr's big red shoes clopped toward me. I couldn't look away from his painted face as he drew closer and closer and closer.

Pop!

I waited to feel myself being pulled out of the world. But instead, the frogs disappeared. And I was left all alone to face Klarr.

The sorcerer came to a stop in front of me and reached out his white-gloved hand. I tried to back up, but I couldn't move. My entire body was frozen.

Klarr twisted his fingers, and I gasped as I felt a horrible churning inside of me. My stomach was being wrung out like wet laundry.

“What do you want?” I cried.

Klarr's painted smile only grew wider.

“Let me go or I'll—” I couldn't think of a single threat. I couldn't even think of something cheesy to say. All I could do was stare into the sorcerer's laughing eyes.

Klarr took one more step toward me. I shrieked in pain as he gave my insides another fierce twist.

“Anthony!” I screamed. “Anthony, help me!”

Pop!

I could have cried with relief as Anthony appeared behind Klarr.

“Hey, circus freak!” he called.

Klarr whipped around and focused his attention on Anthony. The sorcerer was easily three times his size.

“Why so glum?” said Anthony with one of his big belly laughs as the sorcerer charged toward him.

I held my breath, afraid that Anthony didn't stand a chance. But suddenly, Klarr froze and grabbed his head as if he was in pain.

Anthony's face lit up. “I know what you need!” He held up his hand and snapped his fingers. A flood of circus peanuts rained down from the ceiling, covering Klarr in a mound of orange.

Anthony trotted over to me. The minute he touched my shoulder, the pain disappeared and I could move again.

“Let's go!” I said. The pile of circus peanuts wouldn't hold Klarr for long.

“Agreed, Jenny-girl.”

I grabbed on to Anthony's arm just as one of Klarr's giant hands emerged from the circus peanuts. A beam of rainbow-colored light burst from his fingertips and fired straight at me.

Pop!

I was ripped out of one world, twisted around, and tossed into another. It took me a second to realize the cold, hard surface under me was my kitchen floor.

“Well, that wasn't so hard,” said Anthony.

“Speak for yourself,” I shot back. Or at least that's what I would have said if I'd still had a mouth.

Chapter 6

“Oh my,” said Anthony as he helped me off the kitchen floor. “To be honest, Jenny-girl, that's not a good look for you.”

My fingers flew to my face, feeling the horrifyingly smooth spot where my mouth should have been. I grabbed a spoon off the kitchen table and held it up with a shaking hand. An upside-down, mouthless face stared back at me.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't—I couldn't make any sound at all! I turned back to Anthony and threw the spoon on the floor.

“What's the matter?” he said.

I couldn't believe it. Was he not seeing what I was seeing? I pointed at my mouth, or lack thereof.

Anthony studied me, his orange eyebrows crinkling. “Do you mean your mouth?” he said finally.

I jumped up and down, as if we were playing the worst game of charades ever.

“Didn't I warn you that might happen?” he said as a box of chocolate-covered raisins appeared in his hands.

I shook my head. I would have remembered a conversation about the possibility of my mouth disappearing.

“Huh,” said Anthony, popping some candy in his mouth. “I could have sworn I went over the risks with you before we left for your adventure.”

My patience had run out. I stomped over to Anthony and snatched the box of raisins out of his hand. Then I tossed it across the room, where it hit the wall and landed on the floor.

“Hey!” said Anthony. “I was eating those.”

The hurt look on his face just made me angrier. Did he really not care that my mouth was gone? Was candy all he ever thought about?

I grabbed my aunt's clipboard from the kitchen table and started scrawling furiously. “Fix this!” I wrote.

“I would if I could, Jenny-girl,” said Anthony. “But that would take magic that's way beyond me.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I wrote.

Before Anthony could answer, Aunt Evie appeared in the doorway. She gasped at the sight of a gnome standing in the middle of her kitchen. Then she gasped again when she saw me.

“Oh my.” Aunt Evie blinked a few times, her face growing pale. “Would anyone like some tea?” she asked. Then she wandered over to the stove and picked up the teapot, whistling to herself as if we weren't even there.

I turned to Anthony and pointed at the clipboard again.

“We don't have time to think about your mouth right now,” said Anthony. “You need to go back and complete your mission.”

I couldn't believe it. He had to be joking.

“Don't look at me like that,” said Anthony. “Your job was to rescue the prince, and you didn't deliver. The Committee will be far from thrilled.”

I didn't care what the Committee thought. “I'm not going anywhere until I get my mouth back!” I scrawled on the clipboard.

Anthony threw up his pudgy hands. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult? None of my other adventurers ever gave me so much trouble.”

I held up the clipboard and pointed to the words I'd written before. “Fix this!” The words swam together as my eyes started filling with stupid tears. I wasn't a crier. I'd never been a crier. But even I had my limits.

“How many times do I have to say it, Jenny-girl? There's nothing I can do!”

The annoyed tone in Anthony's voice only made things worse. I didn't think I could hold my tears in a minute longer. The last thing I wanted was for Anthony to tell me I was being a baby.

It was a low blow, I knew, but there was one sure-fire way to get rid of a gnome. I gripped the pen again and wrote in big, angry letters: “Leave me alone, you big, fat ELF!”

Anthony sucked in his breath as he read the words. Then his normally pink cheeks flushed blood red and his nose turned purple. “How
dare
you?”

I turned my face away as a pesky tear rolled down my cheek. I just wanted to be left alone.

“Fine,” Anthony spat. “That's what I get for rescuing you.” With an ear-splitting
POP!
he was gone.

A moment later, Aunt Evie came up to me with a steaming cup of hot water. She took another look at my mouthless face and went pale all over again. “Oh my,” she said. “I forgot to put in a tea bag.” She turned and hurried into the pantry.

I had to get it together. Crying was not only pointless but also really hard without a mouth. The stuffier my nose got, the tougher it was to breathe. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. There had to be some way to fix this.

Aunt Evie emerged from the pantry, her mug now loaded with a dozen tea bags. She sat down at the kitchen table, still looking shaken.

At that moment the doorbell rang. I was perfectly happy to ignore whoever was at the door until I heard Dr. Bradley call out: “Jenny, are you there?”

The familiar sound of his voice made me feel a little better. He was a doctor, after all. Maybe he could do something to help.

I opened the door a crack, expecting Dr. Bradley to be grinning back at me as usual. But his face was more serious than I'd ever seen it.

“Oh dear,” he said. “I was afraid something like this might happen. I think it's best if you come with me.”