The Salamander Spell (14 page)

“Pippa!” Grassina called as she passed under the ruined tree house. “Pippa, where are you?”

After pausing for a reply and hearing nothing but silence, Grassina shifted her bundle in her arms and continued walking. Pippa may not have stayed around the tree house, but she still might not have gone far. Calling the little snake’s name, Grassina followed her usual route to the swamp, looking for Pippa the entire time.

She was still calling to the snake when she reached the last of the trees that grew at the edge of the swamp. Suddenly, something fell off a branch and landed on her shoulder. Grassina shrieked and dropped her bundle, then began slapping at herself with both hands.

“Hey!” Pippa said, squirming under the neckline of Grassina’s tunic to avoid being slapped. “What’ss wrong with you?”

“Help! I . . . Oh, it’s you. Why did you do that? You nearly frightened me to death!”

“Ssorry,” said Pippa, “except it wass your fault. You kept calling me! I wanted to sstay away from you. After all the bad thingss my luck hass done, I thought you’d be better off without me. But you’re my only friend, and when you kept shouting my name, I decided that you musst really need me for ssomething. Iss everything all right?”

Grassina took a deep, shuddering breath, ready to tell the little snake about her father’s death and her sister’s cruel words, but she found she didn’t want to talk about it, at least not yet. Instead she let her eyes wander from the blue sky that seemed to go on forever, to the light reflecting off the water half hidden by cattails, to the bees humming around a patch of wildflowers, and she realized that she felt better than she had in days. Her stomach had been in knots from the last time she spoke with her sister, but now that she had reached the swamp, she was finally able to relax.

“It’s been awful, but I think it’s about to get a lot better,” Grassina told the little snake. After all, she had a friend, a place to go, and the beginning of a plan. She didn’t expect the Swamp Fairy to be easy to find. If she hadn’t shown herself yet, she wasn’t likely to just because it was what Grassina wanted. Even so, Grassina knew exactly what to do. She’d make herself a shelter deep in the swamp at the end of one of the more difficult-to-find paths, somewhere safe where nasty relatives would never find her should they ever think to come looking. She would go out during the day and look for the Swamp Fairy, who was bound to want to meet her face-to-face eventually. Grassina wasn’t sure what she would do then, but at least she could thank the only person who’d helped her. In the meantime, there would be plenty to eat, at least for the rest of the summer, and she was sure she’d meet the fairy before the weather grew cold.

Although she doubted that anyone would care enough to try to find her, Grassina planned to hide her trail by stepping on rocks and avoiding the softer mud. Taking the less obvious routes, she could go places that only she knew existed.

“I’m going to live in the swamp for a while. Things have gotten worse at the castle and I have to get away,” said Grassina.

“It got worsse when I wassn’t even there? Maybe my bad luck rubbed off on you!”

Grassina sighed. “I don’t think you have bad luck. If anything, I think your luck is good, at least for you. When that monster broke into the witch’s cottage and wrecked everything, he set you free, didn’t he?”

“Yess, and sstepped on my tail!”

“Which wasn’t bad enough to kill you. Think about what would have happened if he’d stepped on your head!”

“That’ss true,” said Pippa. “But what about your little housse in the tree?”

“It was ruined, which was lucky for you when you think about it. I hadn’t brought you any food; if the tree hadn’t broken the cottage roof, you couldn’t have gotten out and found something to eat.”

“I never thought of it that way!”

“That’s what I mean. It’s all a matter of how you look at it. So I don’t want to hear any more about your bad luck,” Grassina said as she set her feet just so, to avoid the sucking mud.

“All right,” Pippa said. “But I have sso many other thingss I want to tell you. Even though I’ve been frightfully cold, I’ve learned a lot during the lasst few dayss. Did you know that dollss can live in trunkss and don’t need to breathe?”

“Most of them don’t talk either,” muttered Grassina.

“What did you ssay?”

“Nothing. What else have you learned?”

“That thosse metal birdss couldn’t ssay anything but nonssensse. I don’t think they have any real thoughtss in their headss. Mice aren’t too bright either. They go the ssame placess time after time, which makess them eassy to catch.”

“I’m sure it does,” said Grassina.

“And the hairy humanss who run on all fourss are much fasster than the oness who aren’t hairy and run on two feet.”

Grassina stopped walking. “Hairy humans? Do you mean werewolves? Have you seen any around here?”

“A few. They were on their way to your casstle. They came back talking about the guardss and the fori . . . forfif . . . the moat and wallss and sstuff.”

Grassina nodded. “You mean the fortifications. They’re the things that keep the castle safe. Have you seen any hairy humans today?” she asked, glancing behind her.

“I never ssee them when the ssun iss out. Do you think they could be related to owlss? Owlss come out at night, too.”

“I’m sure there’s no connection,” said Grassina. “Please do me a favor. Tell me if you see any sign of those hairy humans. I’d like to know where they are and what they’re doing.”

“Ssure,” said Pippa, “although I don’t know why anyone would want to talk to them.”

While the little snake kept watch for the hairy humans, Grassina followed the secret pathways that only she knew, zigzagging where the hidden path required it, jumping across patches of quickmud to another path when the first arrived at a dead end. She thought she smelled smoke, but the wind changed direction, carrying the odor away before she could locate its source. The possibility of dragons in the area made her walk faster, yet it still took her most of the morning to reach the heart of the swamp.

Grassina knew exactly where she would build her cozy little home. An island about a quarter the size of the Great Hall supported a spring and a scattering of wild plum trees. With its own moat of quicksand and open water surrounding it and a thick screen of trees and brush concealing it, the island was almost impossible to find let alone reach unless one knew exactly where to look. Grassina had visited it many times and was familiar with every tree and rock.

To her surprise, when she arrived at the island the little grove of plum trees was occupied. A makeshift lean-to stood between two of the larger trees. Only a short distance away, a pile of kindling and a still-smoldering log marked a fire pit ringed with stones. Draped over the branch of one of the plum trees, a ragged tunic and a pair of breeches dripped water onto the trampled grass, evidence that someone had been washing laundry. Even so, one quick glance around the tiny island showed her that no one was home.

“Now what will I do?” Grassina murmured.

“Iss
that
where you’re going to live?” asked Pippa. “It doessn’t look very warm.”

“That lean-to isn’t mine,” said Grassina. “I don’t know who made it. It wasn’t here the last time I came this way.”

She considered turning around and going in search of another likely spot, but her feet refused to obey. Her whole plan had been centered on this island, and to find that living there was no longer an option was almost more than she could bear. Shouldering her bundle, Grassina crossed onto the island and began to look around, wondering who had taken over her secret hiding spot.

The campsite held little of a personal nature. An old wooden trencher and a small iron pot rested on the ground beside the fire pit. Inside the lean-to she found a simple pair of leather shoes in good condition and a neatly folded blanket, clean, sweet smelling, and serviceable despite the patches that seemed to hold it together. She didn’t think there was anything else to find until she picked up the blanket and saw that it had been concealing a slim wooden chest. With water marks discoloring the wood and deep grooves and scratches in its top and sides, the chest looked like it might have come from a trash heap, but there was something about it that intrigued her.

Pippa flicked her tongue at the chest. “What’ss that? Iss there a doll like Marniekinss inside? Hello there!” she called, sliding down Grassina’s arm so that she was closer to the wooden chest. “Can you hear me?”

“Pippa, not so loud! I don’t think a doll would fit in there. Just a minute and I’ll see if I can open it.” Grassina knelt beside the chest and tried to lift the lid. It stayed shut as stubbornly as if it had been made of one piece.

“That’ss not going to work,” said Pippa. “Maybe if you bit it, or hit it with a sstick . . .”

“I think I know a better way,” said Grassina.

Determined to know what the interloper on her island might be hiding, Grassina inserted a slim, pointed stick in the tiny gap between the lid and the base, and attempted to pry it open. Aside from jamming her thumbnail, nothing happened, however, so she took the chest in both hands and was shaking it when an angry voice behind her said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Startled, Grassina stood, bumping her head on one of the posts that supported the lean-to. The lean-to tottered and swayed. A strong arm reached out and pulled her to safety just before the shelter fell with a crash. While Grassina staggered and tried not to fall, Pippa slipped under the neckline of her tunic.

“Ow! What are you doing? Oh . . . my . . . ,” said Grassina, glancing from the scowling boy who had saved her to the jumbled branches that had formed the lean-to moments before. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .”

The boy let go of her arm and stepped back. “To what? Destroy the only shelter I have or snoop around in my personal possessions?”

“Both. Neither. I mean . . .” Grassina bit her lip. “Wait a minute. I’m not the one in the wrong. You shouldn’t even be here. Who are you, anyway?”

“That’s not the point,” said the boy. “Hey, give me that!” Snatching the dilapidated chest from her hand, he inspected it as carefully as if it were his most precious treasure. Grassina decided that, from the way he was dressed, it probably was. The oversized tunic he wore came down past his knees. His feet were bare like an urchin’s and his sandy brown hair was long and uneven, as if he’d trimmed it himself. He was taller than Grassina, although not by much, and she might have been afraid if he hadn’t had such an open, honest face and warm brown eyes that would have looked friendly if he weren’t so angry.

“Why are you here?” asked the boy, looking up from the chest to glare at her. “You weren’t supposed to come anywhere near . . .” His voice trailed off as if he’d said something wrong, leaving Grassina wondering what it might have been. “I mean, no one was supposed to come here. This is my home, and I want to be alone.”

“You can’t make me leave! I have more right to be here than you do. I’m . . .” It occurred to Grassina that it might not be a good idea to tell this stranger exactly who she was. Although some people might respect her royal status, others might try to use it to their advantage. He didn’t look like a bad person, but looks could be deceiving, as her old nurse used to say. Grassina didn’t know anything about this boy—who he was, where he came from, and certainly not what his intentions might be should he hear the truth about her.

“You’re what?” asked the boy.

“Not leaving, that’s all. I spend more time in this swamp than anybody else. What makes you think you can show up all of a sudden and lay claim to it?”

“I’m not claiming the whole swamp, just this island. And I didn’t just show up. I’ve been here for a while.”

“Then how come I haven’t seen you before?”

The boy shrugged. “I guess you haven’t gone to the right places. It doesn’t matter though. I built my home here, so this island is mine. You can just—”

“If that’s all it takes to claim it, I’m going to build my cottage here, too. It will be a lot better than that thing you had. Your
home
was all crooked and wobbly . . .”

“It was a perfectly good lean-to!” said the boy, sounding indignant.

“It was more of a lean-from, if you ask me!” said Grassina. “I hardly bumped the thing and it fell over.”

“Ha!” said the boy. “I doubt you could build anything, let alone a cottage.”

“We’ll see about that!” said Grassina.

“Fine!” said the boy. “Tell me when you’re finished. I could use a good laugh!”

Grassina turned her back on the boy so fast that the end of her braid whipped around and stung her cheek. She was careful not to look his way as she studied the ground, trying to decide where to build her cottage. Finding a level spot, she cleared away the debris and left the island in search of long, straight branches.

Although she’d envisioned the cottage as roomy and large enough to walk around in, she began to think that might not be practical if she was going to build it all by herself. Without an ax or saw, she’d have to take whatever windfall she could find, which wouldn’t leave her much to work with. She found a few branches that might suffice, although they weren’t nearly as long as she’d hoped.

Grassina was about to start back to the island when Pippa said, “I’ll sstay here for a while. I don’t want that boy to ssee me.”

“I wouldn’t let him hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” said Grassina.

“It’ss not that. I don’t like meeting new people. You’re nicer than mosst sstrangerss. The old witch wouldn’t come near me without a forked sstick in her hand. She alwayss looked like she wass afraid I might bite her.”

“Would you?”

“Only if I had to, but that’ss besside the point. I think it’ss better if I keep to mysself while you’re around him.”

Grassina shrugged. “If that’s what you want.”

“What I want is a nice fat mousse,” said Pippa. “But that’ss ssomething elsse I’ll have to do on my own.”