Chapter 21
JACOB
HONAU
The tavern is practically bursting at the seams as Wilhelm and I enter.
We find a table in the corner beneath a row of stuffed boar’s heads, far from the roaring hearth, but at least it’s out of the way of anyone listening.
After we dropped Prince William off at the castle, we headed back to town for food, but Rumpelstiltskin refused to join us, saying he wouldn’t come two feet from the tavern that serves watered-down swamp water.
“Everyone in Honau must be here,” I say as the two of us settle into our chairs, shaking off the snow from our cloaks. “She does make the best bratwursts.”
“Either that or something is brewing in town we’re not aware of,” Wilhelm says.
“Which is never good in our line of work.”
“How did we miss that the prince was a frog? And that dungeon. I still can’t believe my eyes.”
“It was something from a horror story,” I agree. “When we get home, I want to start a story about Princess Maria and our frog prince immediately. Their names will come up on the hourglass at some point.”
“It will be a fun one to write, at least. Fetching her golden ball.” He chuckles. “If I haven’t seen everything.”
I pull out the book labeled Volva and flip it open. “On the ride home, I took a look at the text,” I tell Wilhelm. “Based on my initial translation of the Old Norse, it seems to be a book of spells. Except there’s a section here on the Enchantress’s Hunters.”
“The witches know about us.” Wilhelm groans. “That makes things exciting.”
I rub my chin, studying the words carefully. “It looks like the Enchantress found a loophole in their spell. I think it says, ‘She’s gathered Hunters to send us all back to her foul land. They’re nearly indestructible, but they can be killed.’”
“I suppose that’s one way out of this curse.” Wilhelm’s mouth quirks into a wry half-smile.
“Then here it says, ‘I have ideas on spells that will work. Just need subjects.’”
“Well, that’s reassuring,” Wilhelm says sarcastically.
I drum my fingers on the worn pages. “I wonder if there are others like us.”
“I pray not.”
A barmaid saunters over to our table, slapping down two huge steins, the brew frothing over the sides. “You two just here to enjoy my good company or to order some food?”
“Bring us cold vegetables and we wouldn’t mind,” I say. “We’re that hungry.”
She laughs. “Well then, I’ll see what’s still kicking and twitching in the kitchen.”
“What’s the occasion?” I wave to the groups of older men toasting and laughing. It’s like they’ve forgotten all about the wolf attacks.
“You haven’t heard? Ah, now, I expect you wouldn’t, since you don’t have marrying-age daughters in your house. The king has announced a grand festival and invited every girl of marrying age to attend the three balls he’s hosting. Even commoners. Quite the gesture, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.” I frown. What is King Frederick up to? He only does things that make him richer or more powerful. And inviting commoners into his castle doesn’t fit any of those criteria. “I wonder what has brought on this bout of goodwill from our king.”
“Goodwill?” She sniffs. “He wants his son married. Rumor has it that it’s the king’s revenge on the prince for refusing to marry Princess Maria of Hohenzollern.
He told his son he’d invite all the women in the land, and then the prince would see the error of his ways once he saw how dreadful commoner girls were.
How’s that for a king’s confidence in his people? ”
Now that sounds like the king we all know and adore.
“Fascinating,” I say, sipping my drink. “We were left in the dark on this extraordinary news.”
“The couriers are delivering the invitations this very moment. The king isn’t wasting a moment.
The first ball is in three days. I’ve a feeling tonight many young women will dream of a crown on their head and a prince on their arm.
It’s all quite romantic, except I worry many girls are going to come away disappointed. ”
Once the barmaid sashays away, my thoughts drift to Ella. What does she think of this ball? Will she attend? The prince would be a fool not to fall for her. She’s not only beautiful, but the kindest, gentlest person I know.
“You’re thinking of Ella,” Wilhelm says, interrupting my thoughts as our food is brought to the table.
“I wasn’t.” I pick up my fork and dig into my plate of steaming hot bratwurst, thick chunks of cheese, brown bread, and cabbage. But the thought of eating doesn’t seem as appetizing as before.
“You’ve got that look on your face.”
I glare. “I don’t have a look.”
“A dreamy expression.” He leans back with a smirk, enjoying himself too much. “You get it when you’re thinking of her. It’s the only time you don’t look completely miserable.”
“This is the most ridiculous conversation. Let’s focus back on the task at hand.”
“You want to attend the ball.” Wilhelm sighs and stares at his cabbage gloomily. “I hate festivities. We’ll have to wear itchy clothing and stand stiffly. Knowing our luck, we’ll be one of the few bachelors there, and I’ll be expected to dance.”
“As revolting as it sounds, you know it’s our best opportunity to find out what’s going on, plus scout out the area for new story prospects.”
“Don’t call them that.” Wilhelm pushes his plate away. “They may not be from our world, but they are real people and creatures with real feelings.”
“Absolutely. Like that monster we killed in the woods had real enough feelings to rake her claws down my back and lick her lips as she imagined eating me whole.” Wilhelm rolls his eyes.
“Speaking of eating, better get to it. You’ll need your energy because after our meal, you’re going to write a letter to the king, reminding him that he’s commissioned us to this region and wouldn’t he wish for us to join the ball and make sure everyone is safe? ”
“If you’re so eager to go, why don’t you write him yourself?”
“Because you’re a better writer than I,” I point out. “Your persuasion skills are impeccable. Besides, I need to make a trip out to visit Ella von Maier.”
“I knew it!” He starts laughing.
“Your imagination is blinding you, brother. I’m simply going to make sure Ella accepts the invitation to the king’s ball and attends. After our struggle today, we obviously need her.”
“I rue the day I supported the idea of her helping us,” Wilhelm grumbles.