The Robe of Skulls (12 page)

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Authors: Vivian French

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BOOK: The Robe of Skulls
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The bat sighed. “The prof said you were quick on the uptake. Guess even a prof can be wrong.”

“The professor?” Marcus did more gaping. “You know the
professor
?”

“Who d’you think put me up to chasing you around, kiddo? I don’t do charity.” The bat sounded peevish. “You never noticed me checking you out in that bookstack of yours?”

Marcus, trying hard to absorb this new information, gently put the frog on the grass. It hopped away without a backward glance. “Sorry,” he said, and stood up. “So we have to find that girl — what did you say her name was?”

“Foyce. And what’s with the
we
? This is
your
adventure, kiddo.” The bat yawned. “Not to say I don’t have an interest, but it’s you at ground level. Me — I need a break. All this day stuff — wears a fellow out. See ya later!” He flipped a wing, soared up toward the church tower, and vanished. A second later he flew a loop over Marcus’s head. “Fracture,” he called down. “Look for the dame in Fracture. . . .” And he was gone.

“Wait!” Marcus yelled, but the only reply was a snuffle and the clink of a bridle. “Glee,” Marcus said as the pony butted him affectionately. “Oh, Glee! Am I glad to see you. . . .” He put his arms around his pony’s neck and burst into tears. “Oh, Glee, we’ve got to find Arry — but I don’t know where to go! Where’s Fracture?”

“Evilness,” grunted a headstone. “Prince.
Zap!
Frog.”

Marcus hastily wiped his eyes. “Come on out, troll!” he said as bravely as he could. He pulled the map out of his pocket and rolled it into a tube. “I’m . . . I’m ready for you!”

Gracie woke up slowly and lay wondering if she’d died and gone to heaven. Never in her life had she had smooth white sheets, or soft pillows, or a feather bed that rustled comfortingly every time she moved. She turned over luxuriously, enjoying the warmth.

There was a tap on her door, and she sat up. “Hello?” she said, and Val came in carrying a tray laden with boiled eggs, toast dripping with butter, a jar of marmalade, and a mug of hot milk.

“Wow,”
Gracie breathed. “Thank you
so
much.”

“Ancient says she’ll see you after,” Val said brusquely.

“I’ll be as quick as I can.” Gracie hesitated. “Excuse me for asking — but do you want to be back in the world very badly?”

Val’s eyes filled with tears. “I have a brother I’d like to see,” she said. “I hear news of him, but it’s not the same. We planned to retire together . . . take a little cottage . . .”

“I’m so sorry,” Gracie said. “And you can’t leave until someone else comes to take your place?”

Val heaved a heavy sigh. “Who would want to stay here?” she asked.

“Well . . .” Gracie said, “I was thinking. Maybe when I’m older, I could help out. Perhaps I could do a couple of days a week, or something like that?”

For the first time since Gracie had met her, Val smiled. “You’re a real Trueheart,” she said. “And thank you. But I’m afraid minding the web is a punishment. You have to be a Falseheart — and a bad one at that — before Ancient takes you on.” She saw the look on Gracie’s face. “Oh, I’m a Trueheart now. Have been for years — paid my dues in full measure.” She looked wistful for a moment. “I felt bad about stealing the treasure chest, but there was
such
a lovely train set inside. It took me years to repent, but I did in the end. I’d better get back. The web’s acting up, and Elsie’s not as good at handling it as me.”

Gracie ate her eggs and toast slowly after Val had gone, enjoying every mouthful. When she got out of bed, she found that her clothes had been washed and ironed, and the rips in her dress had been neatly darned.

They’re so kind,
she said to herself.
Maybe having a mother would be a bit like this.
I wonder what I can do to thank them.
She made her bed neatly, piled her breakfast things on the tray, and carried it out of
HEDGEHOGS ONLY
.

“There must be a kitchen somewhere,” she said hopefully, and the quill pen zoomed over her shoulder and fluttered in front of
WATER WINGS.

HOT AND COLD WATER
, it wrote at enormous speed.
GOOD SLEEP HOPE SO TAKE CARE DANGER
. It quivered for a second, then did its usual vanishing trick.

“Thanks!” Gracie called, and opened
WATER WINGS’
s door to find a large and well-equipped kitchen piled high with dirty dishes.
Well, that’s something I can help with,
she thought cheerfully as she put down her tray. She filled the sink with scalding water, put as many plates in to soak as would fit, then dried her hands and went to find door seventeen.

The Ancient One was asleep under her cats, but as Gracie coughed politely, she sat bolt upright. “Ah! There you are, my dear. Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Gracie said. She had been about to offer her services in the kitchen, but she was distracted by the web. A dark stain was spreading over the silver fabric, and Elsie was throwing the shuttle to and fro considerably faster than she had been when Gracie saw her last. Val was poring over the fabric with an anxious gaze.

“Things aren’t good,” Edna said, “and we need your help, if you are willing to give it.”

Gracie nodded. “I’d be pleased to,” she said. “I was going to offer to wash dishes, but if there’s anything else, I’ll do that instead. Or as well,” she added quickly, in case it sounded as if she was being choosy about doing dishes.

Edna chuckled. “I knew you were just what we needed the moment you offered to make us tea. Now, let me tell you what’s happened. While you were asleep, we’ve had more news.” She paused. “Perhaps I should go back to the beginning. Did you know your stepsister followed you?”

“Oh, yes,” Gracie said. “Marlon was so clever! We gave her the slip!”

“But she was meant to follow you,” Edna said. “That was Marlon’s plan — but it went wrong.”

Gracie took a sharp breath. “He
meant
her to? But . . . but he gave me the Trueheart Stew, and she went to sleep! He helped me escape!”

“He never meant Foyce to catch you,” Edna reassured her. “He wanted her to follow your trail all the way here so she would be caught by the Unwilling Bushes and the Bogs of Unimaginable Depths. They’d have held her fast, you see, and we could have bargained with her. Her life in exchange for a shortish spell on the web. A mere fifty years or so would have cured her nicely.”

“Erm . . . she’s not very easy to bargain with,” Gracie said.

A fierce blue fire shone in the Ancient One’s eye. “We have our ways” was all she said, but Gracie was suddenly very glad the Ancient One was her friend and not her enemy.

“So what went wrong?” she asked.

Edna leaned forward. “Marlon made a mistake. He forgot that Foyce’s mother was a werewolf. A human would have slept for hours, but she was after you in no time at all . . . and as you know, she can run like the wind. He couldn’t risk her catching you, so he abandoned his plan and brought you here as fast as possible.” Edna’s one blue eye twinkled. “For once he was a bat of his word. It seems you are his hero, Gracie Gillypot. He thinks you can hear spiders laugh.”

Gracie looked guilty. “And I thought he’d abandoned me . . . but what do you want me to do?”

The Ancient One stopped twinkling and looked serious. “Is your True Heart also a brave one?”

“Um.” Gracie thought about it. “I don’t think I know. But I can try to be brave.”

“A good answer. Now, Foyce has joined forces with Lady Lamorna of Fracture Castle. We knew the old sorceress had a plan — a very simple plan. She intended to turn a number of princes into frogs, then demand gold in return for restoring them to human form. She needs, you see, to pay for a new dress.” For a fraction of a second, the Ancient One of the House of Crones looked extremely smug. “A very beautiful new dress. Embroidered with spiders, and —”

Elsie cleared her throat in a meaningful way, and Edna lost the dreamy look in her eye.

“So,” she went on briskly, “we’ve been standing by, waiting for messengers from the palaces to come riding up to ask for help. We have antidotes, you see. In the words of Lady Lamorna’s servant, ‘Frog.
Zap!
Prince.’ Unfortunately, Foyce has tangled this plan and now has the six royal frogs in her power — and Foyce has ambitions far beyond those of the aged Lady Lamorna.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Gracie asked.

The Ancient One looked straight at her. “We want you to go to Fracture and find the frogs. We want you to bring them here so we can remove the enchantment. We want Foyce to follow you, because it is essential for the kingdoms of the Northern Plains that she is kept under our watching eye. There will be help — Marlon has sent word that a young prince, Marcus, will meet you on your way. His brother is among the royal frogs.”

“Oh.” Gracie looked down at her bare feet so Edna couldn’t see how scared she felt. When she looked up, she was grinning. “Shall I wash the dishes before I go or after I get back?”

There was a tiny flutter of applause, and Gracie saw a bat balanced on the top of the curtains.

“Marlon!” she said. “I’m
so
pleased —”

“Tch!” Edna interrupted her. “That’s
Millie,
dear.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “You mustn’t make the mistake of thinking they all look alike.” Then, in her normal tone, she went on: “Marlon is recovering from heat exhaustion in Dreghorn church tower, so Millie has offered to be your guide. By the way, she’s Marlon’s daughter.”

Gracie was surprised. Somehow she had never thought of Marlon as a family bat. She waved at Millie. “How do you do? It’s very kind of you to help me.”

Millie flew down from the curtains and looped the loop. “Delighted, I’m sure,” she said. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Gracie said.

Lady Lamorna hardly spoke on the long journey back to Fracture. The realization that Foyce had outmaneuvered her grew clearer with every step, but she could see no way of regaining her power over the girl. Foyce had the royal frogs and was obviously determined to keep them in her possession until she was paid, and paid handsomely at that.

Although Lady Lamorna still had spell powder in her traveling bag, she was uneasily aware that there was very little left. Only a few pinches. And would the frog spell work on the daughter of a werewolf, or might something much, much worse result? The old sorceress was not given to berating herself, but she could not help but think she had made a mistake. Possibly the worst of her whole life.

The road seemed endless. Foyce had insisted they stop briefly in Gorebreath while she sniffed her way up and down the two main streets. She said she was looking for a sister, but to Lady Lamorna she had the air of a ferret hunting down a featherless chick. No sister was found, and Foyce took out her frustration on the donkey burdened with the royal frogs. She slapped him so hard he took off at a gallop, and although Foyce easily kept pace with him, Lady Lamorna was hard pressed to keep her in sight.

What if she gets away from me?
the sorceress worried.
What can I do?
Even the knowledge that she alone could restore the frogs to their human form was of little comfort. She found herself longing for the familiar shambling shape of Gubble. Gubble, who was devoted to her. Gubble, whom she could have ordered to bite, bite,
bite
 . . .

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