A Hidden Magic
Authors: Vivian Vande Velde
Vivian Vande Velde
illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman
MAGIC CARPET BOOK
HARCOURT INC.
Orlando Austin New York San Diego London
Copyright © 1985 by Vivian Vande Velde
Illustrations © 1985 by Trina Schart Hyman
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First Magic Carpet Books edition 1997
First published by Crown Publishers, Inc. 1985
Magic Carpet Books
is a registered trademark of
Harcourt Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Vande Velde, Vivian.
A hidden magic/by Vivian Vande Velde; Illustrated by
Trina Schart Hyman
p. cm.
"Magic Carpet Books."
Summary: Lost in a magic forest and separated from her prince,
Princess Jennifer seeks help from a kindly young sorcerer
in battling an evil witch.
ISBN
978-0-15-201200-7
[I. Fantasy.] I. Hyman. Trina Schart, ill II. Title.
PZ7.V2773Hi 1997
[Fic]—DC20 96-42014
Text set in Spectrum
Designed by Kaelin Chappell
E G I K M N L J H F
Punted in the United States of America
OTHER BOOKS BY
VIVIAN VANDE VELDE
Curses, Inc.
Tales from the Brothers Grimm
and the Sisters Weird
Companions of the Night
Dragon's Bait
User Unfriendly
A Well-Timed Enchantment
Once Upon a Test:
Three Light Tales of Love
For Jim
prince, sorcerer, and husband
Jennifer 1
A Walk through the Enchanted Forest 12
The Cottage in the Woods 20
The Magic Mirror 24
The Old Witch 39
The Sorcerer 54
Norman 63
Again the Old Witch 71
The Jinni 84
A Second Plan 93
In the Valley of Darkness and Despair 99
Still in the Valley of Darkness and Despair 115
Nighttime 127
Malveenya 139
The Wish 150
Magic 163
O
NCE UPON A TIME
—before kings and queens were replaced by an act of Congress and when kissing a frog still sometimes resulted in more than a case of warts—there lived a young princess named Jennifer.
Now Jennifer was not your average beautiful princess living in a magnificent palace. In fact, she was actually rather plain and shy, with the chubby, good-natured kind of face parents tend to call nice. And as for the magnificent palace—the kingdom over which Jennifer's father reigned was very tiny, and the
nicest thing that could be said about the old castle was that it hadn't fallen down on anyone yet.
One morning in early spring Jennifer was lying on a sun-warmed rock by the river. She had been helping wash the castle linens, but the servants had wandered off while the clothes were drying, and she could no longer even hear them.
She had her eyes closed and was smiling. "Then the king invited the whole kingdom to the ball," she whispered. She couldn't place exactly where she had read that, but remembered the drawing that went with it—a huge room decorated with gaily-colored lanterns and crowded with young people dancing and laughing.
A cloud drifted over the sun and the air became uncomfortably chilly. Jennifer sat up and sighed.
It wasn't that her father wouldn't give a party for her—Jennifer was his only child and he doted on her. The problem was that there were so few people around who were her age. Young people had a tendency to drift away, looking for the chance to make their fortunes in larger, livelier kingdoms.
Jennifer sighed again. She sometimes felt that she had been born into a kingdom of old people and young children.
She sighed a third sigh, the loudest and longest yet, and then Jennifer turned her attention back to the laundry. She had just decided that one of her father's nightshirts needed further cleaning and was busily at work scrubbing when she heard someone approaching.
She looked up and saw the most splendid man she had ever seen anywhere, picture books included. He had curly golden hair, deep blue eyes, and very broad shoulders. His suit was gleaming white satin, and he had a marvelous maroon velvet cloak with fur trim. Everywhere about him there were flashes and sparkles as the sun reflected on gold buckles and rings.
His horse was white also, outfitted like its owner in maroon studded with gold. Both horse and rider carried themselves as if they expected to elicit breathless admiration.
Jennifer jumped to her feet and ran her hand through her hair. The stranger stopped several feet away from her and flashed a brilliant smile. "Hi, there. I'm Prince Alexander," he said, then added, "the king's son."
She could tell by the way he said it that he wasn't referring to a small woodland kingdom like her own, but one of the vast and mighty lands told of in song and story. She made an awkward curtsy while trying to keep her hand over one of the larger smudges on her dress.
The prince smiled graciously. "My horse seems to have lost a shoe. Could you tell me how to get to the nearest blacksmith?"
Jennifer finally remembered to breathe, then shook her head. "He's not here," she said. Then, seeing the prince's smile start to broaden at this obvious fact, she stammered,
"I mean, he's not in town. He's gone on a fishing trip."
"Well, the second nearest, then," the prince suggested.
"I'm sorry, there's only the one. It's a small village," she added apologetically.
"I guess so. When will he be back?"
"Two days."
"Two?" the prince cried. "Days? Very unprofessional attitude there. What am I supposed to do?" He tapped his foot impatiently in its stirrup and glared at her.
Jennifer gulped. "I'm sorry. You'll just have to wait."
Alexander sighed loudly. "Is this village of yours large enough to have an inn? I'll need a place to stay."
"Oh, I'm sure my father can find a room for you."
"He's the innkeeper?"
Jennifer looked down at her bare toes in the mud and said softly, "No, he's the king."
"Oh," the prince said, looking at her more closely than before. He cleared his throat. "Uhm, sorry." He smiled weakly and glanced away.
"Oh, no," she answered hastily, "the misunderstanding's all"—she looked away, afraid to see in his eyes the reflection of her drabness and the shabbiness of her surroundings—"my fault."
There were several seconds of silence before she introduced herself and added, "Here, I can show you the way up the hill to the castle."
She hurriedly threw the still-damp laundry into the wicker carrying basket, and Alexander nudged his horse out of her way as she scrambled up the slope that led back onto the road.
Jennifer tried to think of something clever to say. But she'd have to be quick, for she was rapidly running out of breath from the weight of the basket and trying to keep up with the pace of Alexander's horse. She finally decided
to ask what brought him to her father's land. She didn't add that it was a rare occasion, indeed, when a stranger came through—and that when someone did, he was usually either lost or a traveling merchant or, in most cases, both.
"I'm looking for a wife," the prince said.
Now the idea of going about the countryside searching for a suitable bride was considered somewhat old-fashioned even back then, but Jennifer thought it was rather romantic, so she didn't say anything.
"You see," Alexander started and then interrupted himself. "You look like you're having trouble with that basket."
"Well, a bit," Jennifer admitted. Beside the fact that the basket was heavy, one wet sleeve of her father's nightshirt slapped the back of her leg with every step she took.
"Whoa, slow down," Alexander told the horse. "Genevieve can't keep up. Better?"
"Jennifer," she corrected, though she felt it
was probably presumptuous to contradict such an obviously important person. "Yes, much better."
"You see," Alexander continued, "being the only son of the king—my father's the king, did I mention that?"
Jennifer nodded.
"Being the only son of the king, it's very important that I marry exactly the right person. And since I couldn't find exactly the right person in our own land, I've been traveling around the world to find her. No luck so far, though."
"It sounds very exciting," Jennifer said, picturing Prince Alexander in all the rich, exotic countries she had ever heard of. Then, looking up, she winced at the sight of the drafty old castle that was her home. "Well, here we are."
"Oh," said the prince, obviously disappointed. "How quaint."
"I'm sure we'll be able to find a very nice room for you."
The prince looked less than convinced, but didn't say so as Jennifer went to find her father and to change out of her damp, dirty work clothes.
Now it so happened that King Frederick was somewhat less impressed with their visitor than his daughter was, and he quickly, tired of hearing Alexander say, "My father, the king, this..." and "My father, the king, that..." So, anxious to be about his own business, he suggested that Jennifer and Alexander take a walk through the garden.
For his part, Alexander was not very enthusiastic, neither about the prospect of being stranded at the castle for a few days, nor about taking a walk in the garden with Jennifer. He had spent the last year visiting faraway lands, meeting beautiful women from important families in fabulously rich cities. Quite frankly, Jennifer didn't come anywhere near his high standards. But then, as a matter of fact, nobody did. On the other hand, there
was
the problem of the vacationing blacksmith. Even though a walk in the garden struck him as a rather dull way to pass the time, Jennifer seemed like a nice enough person and a good listener, so Alexander agreed.
A
STONE WALL
separated the forest from the castle garden. Jennifer walked in shy silence beside the wall as Alexander told her about his journey so far. Earlier he had talked of encountering vandals along the way. This had been smoothly changed to several reports of desperate thieves, and had now progressed to an armed gang of cutthroats shadowing him throughout the untamed wilderness. Then, abruptly, he stopped talking.
"What's this?" he asked, pointing to a metal gateway engraved with distorted figures who,
with their large eyes and wild hair, looked ready to grasp at any passerby.
Jennifer shrugged. "It's just a gate leading into the forest."
"I can see that. But where does it go?"
"Nowhere. Just the forest," Jennifer said. "Come on, let's look at the garden."
Alexander walked up to the wall. "What a funny gate," he said, putting out his hand to touch one of the figures. But then he changed his mind and let his hand drop back to his side.
"It's always been here," Jennifer said, tugging gently on his arm. "But nobody goes through. It's locked and the key's been lost for as long as anyone can remember."
"Oh." Alexander, disappointed, tapped the door with his foot, and it swung open soundlessly.
Jennifer became very nervous. "I don't like this. The gate has always been locked before." Then she added, "The forest is enchanted."
Now this was not just idle guesswork on
her part. There was a history book in the castle library that told how the wall had been built long ago to protect the people of the kingdom from the inhabitants of the forest. This book told of a time of unicorns and wishing wells and magic swords, when mysterious lights appeared in the night and strange people wandered about on secret journeys. Even then people had known that there was an evil force inside the forest, and kindly sorcerers had helped put up a wall that even the strongest magic could not tear down.