The Salamander Spell (3 page)

As she grew older, Grassina had developed an interest in the flora of the swamp. She had studied with an old woman from a nearby village, an herbalist who was delighted to have a princess as a pupil since it meant that she ate well on lesson days and was paid in real coin. During her years of study with the old woman, Grassina’s interest in plants had become a passion, but the old woman had died the year before, leaving Grassina to study on her own. In her mind, that meant spending even more time in the swamp looking for specimens.

Although Grassina loved the swamp, she wasn’t blind to its dangers and was particularly careful when visiting the lake that bordered the enchanted forest. Once, while picking leaves from a variety of marsh mallow that grew at the edge of the lake, she had heard a shrill cry coming from the tall reeds between her and the forest. Looking up, she had seen a flock of crows descending on the reeds and whatever creature they hid. Armed only with a few stones she’d found on the ground, Grassina had gone to investigate. A doe, mauled by something in the forest, had wandered into the swamp to die. Although she was hidden from most eyes, the crows had found her and were impatient to begin feeding. The doe was close to death when Grassina saw her, but alive enough to turn her head. Their eyes met; one look was enough. As the doe lay her head on the ground again, Grassina threw her first stone into the flock of crows, being careful not to hit the deer. The birds squawked and flew off as one stone after another hurtled into their midst, missing most, but hitting enough to frighten them. Grassina had stayed to chase away birds even after the doe was no longer moving. She would have stayed all day if a bear attracted by the scent of blood hadn’t shuffled out of the forest.

Knowing that her poorly aimed stones would do little more than irritate a bear, Grassina retreated farther into the swamp. The very next day she collected stones again. Instead of skipping them across a pond, she threw them at the gnarled knot in a tree trunk, hitting the tree but only rarely the knot. The next day she was back again, staying until her arm was sore and her aim was better. Within a month she could hit whatever target she chose. Within two months she could do it while running. Although she rarely needed to use the stones, it made her feel better to know that she could.

Fortunately, on this particular day she saw no sign of anything larger than a deer in the vicinity, so she continued on, searching for certain plants. Finding a specimen with blue-flowered spikes that had opened its blooms since her last visit, she picked one stem, leaving the rest to grow and spread. She was tucking her new find into the leather sack she’d brought when she caught the faintest whiff of smoke.

“There must be a dragon nearby,” Grassina murmured. It was time to head for home.

Tilting practice was ending when she passed the field, so she sought out her father and joined him as he passed his horse’s reins to his squire.

“Hello, sweetling,” he said when Grassina appeared at his side. “I thought I saw you coming. What have you been up to today?”

As they started toward the castle, Grassina told him about her morning, including her conversation with Chartreuse. “It isn’t fair,” she said, kicking a pebble with the toe of her shoe. “Chartreuse is going to be the queen and the Green Witch just because she’s older than me. All I’m going to do is marry some old, boring suitor that Chartreuse doesn’t want.”

King Aldrid tugged on his daughter’s braid. “Chartreuse may think that fortune favors her now, but give her a few years and she’ll think that you’re the lucky one. With either of those titles comes a great deal of responsibility. Bearing both titles can be overwhelming. Just ask your mother. She never wanted to be the Green Witch. Given a choice, she would have preferred to do only small magic the way many of the village witches do.”

“Really? If I were a witch, I’d specialize in big spells that would make a big difference and really help people. I wouldn’t waste my time with the little ones like spelling my name with bubbles. But I don’t understand why Mother never told us how she felt about magic.”

Her father shrugged. “She knew that your sister would be the next Green Witch someday, so she wanted to let Chartreuse form her own opinion about magic. Seeing how the responsibility of being the Green Witch had affected her mother was what turned your mother against the job.”

“What did it do to Grandmother?”

“We all thought your grandmother was crazy; your mother thought it was because of the things she had to do to protect the kingdom as the Green Witch. The monsters she had to face . . . The horrible things they did if she wasn’t there in time . . . It was enough to give anyone nightmares.”

“But the Green Witch is the most powerful witch in the kingdom. She can handle anything!” said Grassina.

“Yes, but at a tremendous cost. The horrors she has to deal with . . . Not to mention that her responsibilities as the Green Witch take precedence over her private life. Your mother never got to spend time with you the way she would have liked. Even now, she has no time for all the little things that she used to enjoy so much.”

“I didn’t realize . . .”

“As for whom you’ll marry . . . You’ll have a say in choosing your future husband. I’ll see to that. Chartreuse, however, will marry whomever your mother and I decide would make the most suitable husband for someone in her position. The man who marries the queen of Greater Greensward must meet the kingdom’s needs before his wife’s. Whoever marries the Green Witch must not be someone who would try to misuse her magic. Chartreuse’s choices are far more limited than yours will be.”

“You’re not saying that just to make me feel better?” asked Grassina, studying her father’s face.

Her father laughed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare try to convince you of anything. I know you too well.

Just don’t let Chartreuse upset you when she talks about her brilliant future. Nothing is ever exactly what we expect it to be.”

Three

Y
ou’ve changed and I don’t like it,” said the queen on the other side of the closed door. Her voice was ill-tempered and angry, which was unusual for her. Grassina had been about to knock, but she dropped her hand and hesitated, torn between wanting to hear what her mother said next and knowing how upset the queen would be if she knew that someone was eavesdropping.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said King Aldrid, sounding puzzled.

“You were so attentive when we first met. Don’t you remember singing love songs outside my window at night until my father threatened to have you dragged off to the dungeon? You gave me so many gifts that I didn’t know what to do with them all. You even begged me for a lock of my hair to keep by your heart. After we were married, you took me to tournaments and on that grand tour. We were so happy together, and you promised that it would never end.”

“I remember,” he said. “We were young then and didn’t have the responsibilities that we have now.”

“Don’t talk to me about responsibilities! I know exactly what’s expected of me by you and everyone else in this kingdom. All I’m asking for is a little romance . . . some sign that you still love and cherish me and that I’m still important to you and not just because of what I do for our kingdom. I want you to be the man you used to be. I want to feel the way I used to feel.”

“I didn’t know you weren’t happy,” said King Aldrid. “You’ve never said anything before. What brought this on?”

“Nothing, really. I was talking to Chartreuse and I remembered how it once was, that’s all. She’s so bright-eyed and certain of her future, like I was at her age. I suppose I just need to know . . . Are you still the Aldrid I married? Do you still love me the way you once did?”

“Of course I do!” the king said, beginning to sound irritated.

“You certainly never show it!” The queen’s voice was louder, as if she were coming closer. Grassina stepped back a pace, not wanting to be caught listening.

“You have to tell me what you want. I can’t read your mind!” said the king.

“That much is obvious!” The queen had almost reached the door. “You never even
tell
me that you love me anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have to say it.”

“Perhaps not, but it would be nice if you did it without having to.”

Grassina’s heart was pounding when she darted down the corridor and slipped behind a wall hanging that covered a small, drafty alcove. Peeking out from behind the hanging, she searched her mother’s face as the queen passed by and was dismayed to see tears streaking her cheeks. As a child, hearing her parents argue had frightened Grassina, perhaps because they did it so rarely. It upset her even now, although she couldn’t have explained why. Talking to someone about it might help, but it had to be someone who felt the same way she did. Only one name came to mind.

Grassina often forgot just how big the castle was until she had to find someone. She looked for Chartreuse in her chamber, but it was empty. Even her sister’s new kitten was gone. Chartreuse wasn’t in the Great Hall either, nor their mother’s chamber, nor any other room where she might usually be found. To her surprise, she finally found her in the kitchen.

A few years before, Grassina had developed a love for cooking and had persuaded the cooks to give her lessons. She still visited the kitchen often to try her hand at new dishes, but as far as she knew, her older sister had never set foot in the kitchen. Grassina could tell from the sour expressions on the cooks’ faces that they weren’t pleased about Chartreuse’s current visit.

Chartreuse was standing at the long table where she’d shoved aside a mound of vegetables, leaving a cleared space for her to work. A book, a bowl of flour, a saltcellar, a lump of butter, and a dozen apples lay on the table in front of her. An orange-striped kitten sat on the table at Chartreuse’s elbow, lapping a bowl of milk. Supper was hours away, but roasts were already turning on the spit, making Grassina’s mouth water from the aroma of the sizzling juices. She was wondering if the cook might give her something to tide her over when Chartreuse began to read aloud from the book.

Pour the flour and the salt.
Drop in a bit of lard.
Mix it till it’s nice and smooth.
Add water—it’s not hard.

Although Grassina was watching carefully, nothing seemed to be happening. “A cooking spell,” she murmured. “I wonder where she found that.”

Roll it flat and roll it wide.
Cut squares with a blade.
Lay the apple slices there.
Don’t stop—it’s nearly made.

The ingredients hadn’t budged from the table. “It’s not working,” said Grassina. “Why are you going on with the spell if it’s not doing what it’s supposed to? And why are you wasting your time on a cooking spell in the first place? You can cook without magic. Now if
I
were trying to do magic, I’d do something big that could make a real difference that I couldn’t make any other way.”

Chartreuse looked up from the table to glare at her sister. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it. Go away. I’m busy.”

“But I need to talk to you,” Grassina said, glancing at the cooks and their score of assistants. Although none were looking in the sisters’ direction, they were all working so quietly that she was sure they were listening. “It’s about our parents,” she told Chartreuse in a fierce whisper.

“Didn’t this afternoon’s conversation sink in at all?” asked Chartreuse. “I don’t want you anywhere near me when I’m doing my magic!” Picking up the book, she pointedly turned her back on her sister.

Chartreuse’s kitten licked its paw, then used it to wipe its face. Cat hairs floated in a sunbeam coming through one of the windows set high in the wall. Grassina crinkled her nose when some of the hairs drifted into the bowl of flour. She picked up the kitten to set it on the floor, and it mewed, earning her a nasty look from Chartreuse.

“I have to talk to you,” said Grassina. “This is important. They’ve been fighting.”

Chartreuse slammed the book on the table and spun around. “So you think that what I’m doing isn’t important? Get out of here and leave me alone! And that goes for my kitten, too. I never said you could touch it.” Giving her sister a nasty look, she snatched the kitten off the floor and set it on the table. The kitten backed away, bumping into the bowl of flour. The bowl overturned and the flour splashed out, coating the kitten from head to toe. Howling, the kitten jumped to the floor and dashed around the kitchen, leaving a white, powdery trail.

A scullery maid was carrying a bucket of water when the kitten ran under her feet, tripping her. The bucket went flying, the water gushing over the spitted roasts, drenching them and extinguishing the fire. The head cook roared and, grabbing a broom, flailed at the kitten. Terrified, the kitten tore out of the kitchen and down the corridor toward the Great Hall. Chartreuse snatched up her book and ran after her pet. Grassina grabbed some apples and was only a few paces behind.

Although most of King Aldrid’s hounds had gone outside to pester the stable boys, one hound had stayed behind to take a nap by the fireplace. Woken by the stillyowling kitten, the hound scrambled to its feet and took off after the dusty white ball of fluff. Bigger and faster than the kitten, the hound would have caught it if, just as its jaws were about to close, the flour puffing off the warm, furry body hadn’t tickled the hound’s nose. The hound sneezed, giving the kitten enough time to launch itself onto one of Queen Olivene’s prized tapestries decorating the closest wall. Its needlelike claws dug into the woven fabric as the kitten climbed until it was too high for the hound or anyone else to reach. This didn’t discourage the hound, who leaped at the tapestry, barking hysterically. Dragged down by the weight of the hound, the tapestry tore at the top where it was fastened to the wall and began to sag.