The Princess and the Firedrake Page 6

  Dame Strudel shrugged. “On her they look good,” she remarked. “So, darling, what’s with the abracadabra?”

  “I’ll explain later.” Alix climbed up on the base of the sculpture in the center of the fountain, which was a portrait of Griddle. Normally water gushed from his dragon mouth, but now he just drooled pathetically. “Dear friends, we must rise to defend our homeland!”

  The mob behind Schnecken, Strudel, and Blintz made appropriate noises, all at the same time, as usual: Homeland. Right. Hearth and home. My country right or wrong. I only regret that I have but one life… and so-on.

  Master Blintz was less sure. “Defend against what?” he inquired.

  She pointed at the statue of Griddle. “There’s a firedrake in Mount Sulfur.”

  “Oh, him,” said Schnecken dismissively, “he’s always been there.”

  Alix said, “But he’s causing the heat, the drought, the dead crops, the dying cattle. Citizens! We must go kill that firedrake!”

  Scattered voices muttered together, Firedrake, right. That monster drinks lava for breakfast. Broils everyone who gets near it. No one ever comes back.

  Looking away toward Mount Sulfur, Alix declaimed,

  But when the blast of war blows in your ears,

  Then imitate the action of a tiger.

  Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.

  (She had memorized Henry V from the 1600 quarto.)

  But when she returned her look to the citizens, there weren’t any. The great city square of Gdink had emptied as quickly as hundreds of terrified feet could manage.

  Alix stared, disbelieving, then shook her head sadly and wished herself back in the storeroom. This time, nobody saw her vanish.

  * * * *

  In the City Hall on the other side of the square, the Major Domo approached the king cautiously. He knew what Grogelbert sometimes did to bearers of bad news. “Ah, Sire…?”

  “What now?” said the king, distractedly. He and his throne had toppled backward off their flimsy supports and he was vainly attempting to restore the big chair to its place.

  “My sources report that the princess has been seen in Gdink.” As the king’s eyes bugged out, the Major Domo hastened on, “Last night at the British embassy and several times in the town square.”

  Fortunately, the king’s anger this time was the slow-burning type. He looked at the Major Domo and almost whispered, “Summon my secret council!”

  Chapter 8

  The Princess and the Firedrake

  It took time to round everything up, but eventually the City Hall chamber was filled with a long table improvised from sawhorses and planks. The secret council included the king, of course, plus the four old philosophers, Signor Galileo, and, for some reason, Nurse Hildegard. The Major Domo had done a fine job on short notice, and each place at the table was supplied with a pencil and yellow pad, a water carafe and clean glass, and a dish of hard candies, individually wrapped. A plate piled with Danish pastries sat in the center.

  The king was saying, “She defied me; that knowitall Alix defied my decree and left the palace. I’ll chain her up in a moldy dungeon; a moldy dungeon, I tell you; that’s what I’ll do!”

  “If we can get to her,” said one philosopher.

  “We can’t seem to open the door,” said a second.

  King Grogelbert turned to the Major Domo. “What did you do with the key?”

  “Me, Sire? I gave that key to you!”

  “Well, that’s simply wonderful!” The king sounded disgusted.

  The third philosopher quavered, “You could break down the door.”

  The king turned irate. “It’s my own palace! I can’t lay siege to my own palace. I’ll look silly.”

  Nurse Hildegard spoke up. “If them townsfolk’s all steamed up anyway, why not get them to do it?”

  Now it was clear why the king had included her. “Hm,” he said thoughtfully; “we could post a reward.”

  “Maybe ten million marks,” croaked the second philosopher.

  Alarmed at this giant amount, the Major Domo sucked in his breath; but before he could speak, all the other men scraped back their chairs and stood up, loudly congratulating one another. Good idea! Atsa nice! That’ll teach her. Ten million marks! Hey, grab some of those candies! Cheered up and flush with fresh purpose, they all left the room together.

  “Moldy dungeon,” said Hildegard with contempt.

  The Major Domo shrugged and pushed the plate toward her. “Might as well have a Danish,” he said.

  * * * *

  The next morning the owl glass showed Alix the ten million mark reward for her capture. Though saddened, as always, by her father’s hostility, she refused to take this new affront seriously. “Ten million marks?” she said, shaking her head, “the whole royal treasury doesn’t hold half that much money. Thank you, Owl.” The mirror went dark. “No one will believe it, anyway. People aren’t stupid.”

  The owl replied, “Some of the people are stupid some of the time and all of the people are stupid all of the time. Full disclosure: I cribbed that from a famous quotation.” It shrugged wooden wings. “Any fish will bite if the bait’s good enough.”

  Reviewing the people she knew in the kingdom, Alix had to admit that the owl might be right. The burghers were all on her side and she hated to call them stupid, but they didn’t seem to think very clearly - some of them not at all.

  But her new friends… “Jack and Lord Wilfred won’t take this seriously.” She looked at the owl. “Will they?” The owl shrugged again. “Maybe they will!” Jumping up, Alix said impulsively, “Ring, I wish to be where Jack Brambel is.”

  Poof!

  “About that reward…” Alix said as she flashed into being in a work room at the British embassy.

  Jack Brambel looked up from a list he was reviewing with Lord Wilfred. “Hul-lo!” said Jack, “Well, that clears up one question!”

  “My father… uh, what question?” Alix for once was confused.

  “Tights look better on women than men.” Jack was grinning happily at her.

  “Rather more fetching,” his father added, with half a twinkle in his eye.

  Jack nodded. “Definitely more aesthetic. Good of you to drop in, Princess - and I do mean drop in.”

  “Tights? What’s all that about…?” Alix realized she was not in her usual floor-length gown. “Oh, sorry!”

  “I’m not offended; are you, father?”

  Lord Wilfred ramped up to full twinkle. “Quite the contrary. You may set a new fashion, your highness,” his voice dropped to a mumble, “probably too much to hope, though; pity.”

  Jack rescued Alix by recalling her opening words. “Yes, I read the king’s proclamation.” Before she could continue, he added, “Including the fine print. It says you may not go through the palace door. Now what makes me think that you are not, in fact, using the palace door at all?”

  “It’s magic, of course; I just wish myself here.”

  “Mm-hmh, so you’ve never defied the king’s order, have you? Not technically, anyway - never gone through the palace door.”

  “Well, come to think of it…” Alix began.

  “There it is, then,” said Lord Wilfred hastily. “Now how about a good English breakfast, what? Do you fancy kippers?”

  Alix recited from memory, “Kippers um: ‘smoked North Atlantic herring, mostly bones, inedible except by the British.’”

  “Ah, quite so; well, perhaps toast and jam then.”

  * * * *

  Princess Alix didn’t need breakfast - she’d wished for her own an hour ago - but she felt nourished by Jack’s easy acceptance and Lord Wilfred’s unquenchable cheer. By the time she had wished herself home again she felt charged up and ready to take on the firedrake.

  After rummaging through the faerie gifts, she looked at herself in the mirror, which was just a mirror when it wasn’t wanted for viewing. “Cap,” she said, “check. Excalibur, check. Ring, got it. Dragon feather, ditto.” She puf
fed out a breath. “Right: the sooner I do it, the sooner it’s done.”

  The owl’s expression was disapproving. “Take care, bold warrior. The firedrake has slaughtered countless knights.”

  Alix settled the sword in its scabbard. “But they didn’t have magic weapons.”

  “Weapons won’t help without a plan to deploy them.”

  Alix waved this away. “I’ll think one up on the spot; I always do, you know.” Running to the tower window she leapt into the air and flew through it.

  For the first time, the owl separated itself completely from the mirror frame, flexing its wings and rattling their feathers. “This should be a hoot,” it said sardonically as it too flew out the window.

  At the Mount Sulfur crater, Alix found the firedrake lolling on a shelf just below the surface of the lava, leaning back on his iron elbows, one bull’s leg crossed over the other. All around him small lava jets bubbled soothingly. As the princess circled above like an eagle patrolling, the beast dipped its great head, scooped a mouthful of boiling liquid, and gargled noisily. It swallowed the lava with evident pleasure, then produced a resonant belch full of cinders and smoke.

  “That was a juicy one!” Alix called down.

  “What? Oh, beg your pardon; I didn’t see you up there.”

  Alix now hovered in place, high enough to withstand the heat of the crater. “You would be Griddle, correct? A pleasure to meet you.”

  The firedrake sat upright. “You too,” he roared cheerfully, “come for some one-on-one action?”

  “Mano a mano,” yelled Alix. She thought, I’ll be using more than a hand, but I’m not telling him that.

  At the same time the monster was thinking, three challengers in a week! “Excellent!” he bellowed, “let’s get right to it. Ruucck-TOOEY!” The beast’s fireball loogie sailed upward toward Alix, but reached the top of its arc and fell harmlessly into the crater.

  Griddle sized up his opponent, eyes narrowed. “Got any spears, bombs, cannon - that sort of thing?”

  “Only my sword,” she called back.

  “Then you’ll have to fight up close and personal; long-range artillery’s no fun. Ruucck-TOOEY!” Again, the projectile fell short.

  As she floated downward toward the monster, Alix said, “Oh. I get your drift.”

  “And now I’ve got yours, Rucck…” Alix jammed her cap on and instantly vanished. “…TOOEY!”

  At the top of the fireball’s arc, Alix’s disembodied voice yelled, “Whoa!” The beast swiveled his head to the right and let go again, Ruucck-TOOEY! The invisible Alix shouted “HEY!” and for several moments, the firedrake shifted his aim repeatedly, spitting one missile after another, while Alix’s voice seemed to be all over the place: “Hoo!... Ha!... Ow!... Ee!.... Whoa!”

  When the princess pulled off her magic cap, she was again hovering at a safe altitude, breathing heavily. “How are you following me?”

  “Infrared vision,” confided the firedrake. “I only use it for dueling. It’s too hard to keep up all the time.”

  “Never heard of it; how did you get it?” Alix let herself drift downward a bit.

  “A survival adaptation; pure natural selection.”

  “Natural what?” Still lower.

  “Evolution,” said Griddle airily, “but you wouldn’t know about that.”

  Still sinking gently, Alix called, “Tell me; I’m fascinated.”

  The firedrake grinned at her. “That was the plan, Ruucck-TOOEY!”

  Alix shot upward but not fast enough. The fireball grazed her on its way by, setting fire to her jerkin and burning her back.

  Circling high above her, the wooden owl winced. “Ooh, that had to hurt,” it remarked.

  Losing control, Alix wobbled and started to fall toward the crater. Gasping in agony, she groped for the ring on her finger. “Wish… wish to be healed!” Just in time, she recovered and swooped out of range. Her burns were healed though her blackened jerkin and shirt were still smoking.

  Hovering again, she thought, through her angry confusion, I’ll just get it over. “Ring,” Alix said, “I wish the firedrake dead!”

  Nothing happened.

  “I said, I wish…”

  By now the owl had flown over to join her. “Would you listen? No, you would not.”

  Alix nodded frantically. “I’ll listen; now I’ll listen.”

  “I’ve already told you: the ring can neither take a life nor give one.”

  “Fine, then I’ll invent something else.” And before the owl could reply, the princess had flown away.

  The owl called, “you didn’t wait…” but Alix was out of shouting range. The wooden bird shrugged, a tricky move in mid air, and resumed its grandstand view of the game.

  Circling at a safe height, Alix recalled the words of Signor Galileo: Spray joost-a one spot wid cold water and crrrack! Da whole ting shatters! Her face lit up at one of her brilliant ideas. “Ring,” she commanded, “I wish for a bucket that is always full of ice water!” Without warning, she was gripping the rope handle of a large, heavy pail. Abruptly dragged downward by its load of water, Alix fought to regain altitude, then leveled off as she adjusted to her burden. She pocketed her cap, since the beast could see her anyway, took a deep breath, and started a bombing run.

  Dodging nonstop lava flak, Alix sped downward in a zigzag path, the bucket ready to pour. When she was as close as the heat would allow, she upended the pail and gallons of water splashed the beast’s iron hide, turning to steam and leaving rotten black spots on its skin. The firedrake howled in surprise and pain as Alix swooped up out of range. Another attack and another and then still another. On each bombing run, the princess scored ice water hits while the firedrake screamed with outrage and thrashed in its lava lake. More and more of its red iron hide was now black, and it moved sluggishly, as if wounded.

  When Alix finally paused for breath at a safe altitude, the owl flew over to join her. It noted her charred, smoking clothes and singed eyebrows. “Are you all right?”

  Alix nodded, gasping. “Just a couple more runs and he’s done for,” she said grimly.

  “Listen…” the owl began as Alix swooped away again, “whatever you do, don’t let him submerge!”

  Too late! Griddle was disappearing into the bubbling lava.

  Alix flew back up out of range. “Is he dying?” she asked.

  “Quite the opposite,” the owl pointed grimly toward the lake below them.

  Sure enough, Griddle had risen to the surface again, black spots healed, iron hide red as ever, vigor restored. Now he was carefully unfolding first one bat wing, then the other. He shook their kinks and wrinkles out and tried a test flap or two. The wings resembled a classical dragon’s, but seemed to work like an insect’s, becoming a blur as they reached takeoff speed. The enormous beast rose majestically into the air and hovered like a bumblebee.

  He dipped his huge head in acknowledgment. “You’re a fine opponent, Sir Knight. No mortal has forced me to fly in centuries.” Then, with a thunderous roar, the firedrake buzzed into shooting range and fired.

  But now Alix had the advantage. The great cumbersome beast was a clumsy flier, and she had no trouble avoiding his lava spitballs. Like a hummingbird deviling a lumbering crow that has wandered into its airspace, she whizzed over, under, around the firedrake, drenching its hide with ice water. Again and again, the water turned to steam and the red iron hide turned black, as the firedrake’s roars and bellows changed to screams of agony.

  But then the princess screamed as well, when a lucky hit set her clothes and hair aflame. Ready with the ring, she croaked, “Heal me; give me clothes,” and by the time she was out of range she was whole again. Looking down on her foe, she saw the firedrake was still whole too, still flying, despite its wounded hide.

  Hovering above the battle with her, the owl began, “You might want…” But Alix flew off again. The owl threw up its wings in frustration, then dropped 30 feet before recalling that it needed wings for flying.
>
  “What are we up to now, Plan D?” Alix muttered as she traced a giant arc through the air to the firedrake’s rear. Turning, she flew straight at her quarry. When she came so close that her clothes again were smoking, Alix propped the bucket on her shoulder and turned it on its side so that an endless torrent doused her own head and body. Now water-cooled, she drew Excalibur from its scabbard, flew right up to the beast, and hacked its wing off with a single slashing blow. The firedrake tumbled out of control and crashed to earth on the slope of the mountain.

  Though desperately wounded, the powerful creature began crawling upward toward the crater rim, while Alix poured a constant waterfall on its steaming hide. Inches at a time, the beast dragged itself unstoppably upward. Finally, Alix upended the bucket on herself again, plunged downward toward the firedrake, and slashed its neck half through with Excalibur. Boiling lava spurted out of this mortal wound and the firedrake finally fell.

  But he was close enough to the crater edge to topple into the lake. Instantly, the firedrake was whole and strong again. Shooting up his iron head, he sent a blast of fire after Alix, setting her hair and clothes ablaze once more. She jerked violently, then fought the pain enough to touch the ring.

  “Home,” Alix whispered, defeated.

  Instantly, she appeared in the tower store room and crashed to the floor, too agonized to speak.

  Puffing and wheezing, Owl flew through the window and landed beside her. “Firedrake one, home team nothing,” it gasped, and then hopped on to Alix’s charred fingers. “Ring, heal the princess,” said the bird.

  Chapter 9

  Master Blintz Seeks Civic Improvements

  Unaware of the duel on Mount Sulfur, the good Burghers of Gdink were gathered in the town square. Like the princess before him, Master Blintz was addressing the crowd, clinging to the fountain statue of the firedrake, in this case because Dame Strudel had yelled at him when he’d tried to stand on one of her patio chairs.

  “Masters,” he boomed, “The king left the palace to escape Princess Alix. Fair enough, but why is the court camping out in City Hall?” Blintz waited while a thick clot of indistinct mutters floated up. “BECAUSE!” Blintz fought to regain their attention, “Because we don’t have a hotel.”

  Schnecken called out, “What’s a hotel?”

  “A place for strangers to stay when they come here.”

  Flute the bellows mender piped up, “Nobody ever comes here.”