My Epic Fairy Tale Fail (5 page)

After we'd left Ralph behind (once Melissa promised to go out on a date with him someday), Trish got right back into academic mode.

“Sir Knight,” she said, notebook at the ready, “did you choose to become a knight or were you born into it?”

“
Choose
to become one?” he said, as if the idea were totally foreign to him. “I was born a knight. How could you suggest I could be anything else?”

Trish blinked. “Sorry if I offended you.”

Sir Knight bowed his head.
Clang.
“My apologies,” he said. “Being a knight is all I've ever known. It's not something I think about. It is simply who I am.”

“And you're clearly good at it,” I said, trying to smooth things over.

“Do you think so?” Sir Knight said, his face lighting up. “That means so much coming from someone as brave as you.”

“Jenny,” Melissa announced, “I've been working on a song for you. Do you want to hear it?” I had a feeling she was trying to show off in front of the knight, probably because he'd been paying more attention to me than to her. Sometimes Melissa could get weirdly competitive, but I knew she didn't mean anything by it. It probably wasn't easy having two super-talented parents.

“Sure.” I plastered a smile on my face, hoping this song wasn't anything like the last one Melissa had subjected me to. That one had sounded like it had been written by a dying cat that had just learned to rhyme.

Melissa glanced excitedly in Sir Knight's direction before clearing her throat and singing in a high, sweet voice:

Jenny
is
an
adventurer.

She
couldn't be any awesomer.

She's helped by a gnome named Anthony.

He
likes
to
eat
lots
of
beans
jelly.

The song went on and on, and I had to look at my feet to keep from cracking up. Melissa's voice was gorgeous, and the melody wasn't bad, but the words…weren't great.

When the song finally ended, Sir Knight clapped his metallic hands as if the performance were the greatest thing he'd ever heard.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

“Splendid, maiden,” he said. “Simply splendid!”

Melissa's cheeks flushed from the attention. Even Trish, who usually groaned the minute Melissa started singing, was applauding. I couldn't remember the last time my friends had looked so happy. Maybe bringing them along on the mission
had
been a good idea.

A few minutes later, we passed by a field where several kids were running around with logs tied to one of their legs.

“What are they doing?” I asked, watching the kids stumbling more than running. They looked determined to go as fast as possible, even if that meant wiping out every few steps.

“They're training for the festival,” said Sir Knight. “The three-legged race is one of the most popular events.”

“Why not just tie their legs to each other's?” said Trish, scratching her head with the end of her pencil again. I was afraid she'd scratch off some of her curly hair if she wasn't careful. “Wouldn't that make training easier?”

Sir Knight furrowed his brow. “Then it would be a four-legged race, wouldn't it? The logs are a good way to get used to having an extra leg.”

“An extra leg?” said Melissa, her eyes widening in horror.

“Wait,” I said. “Sir Knight, are you saying that the kids actually have three legs during the race?”

He nodded. “After Ilda works her magic, yes. The effect is temporary, of course, and only lasts for the day of the festival, but it's enough to make Ilda laugh. The more amused she is, the more generous she'll be with prizes. One year, I came in first in the dirt-eating contest, and I won enough food to feed myself and my brother for months.”

Did Ilda really get her kicks from forcing people to eat dirt and watching kids stumble around on extra limbs? That qualified as a particularly horrible brand of evil.

“You have a brother?” Melissa piped up, looking hopeful.

“When is the festival?” I said loudly. We were
not
here to help Melissa's dating life.

“In three days,” said the knight.

The last day of the curse. Figured. Big events often came at the same time during my adventures. Hopefully, I'd have completed the three tasks, brought back the magic, and gotten rid of Ilda long before the three days were up. Then no one else would have to be humiliated in exchange for food.

“Sir Knight,” I said, “what can you tell me about the Impossible Tasks?”

His face fell. “Nothing, I'm afraid. Part of the curse is that you can't speak to anyone else about the specifics of the tasks.” He hung his head and whistled a few sorrowful notes. “Alas, I barely even began the third task before I failed.”

As we rounded a bend in the road, I spotted a cottage in the distance. “Is that Ilda's house?”

“It is, indeed!” said Sir Knight.

I'd expected Ilda's lair to be dark and ominous, so I was surprised to see a small, happy-looking cottage with a brick-red roof. Like the houses in the village, this one was made out of gingerbread, but unlike those, it looked fresh and—I had to admit—delicious.

Good thing Anthony was already gone, or we'd have a serious Hansel and Gretel situation on our hands.

As we got closer, something crowed loudly behind the house. A second later, the bonnet-wearing monstrous rooster came around the corner. He cocked his head to the side at the sight of us. Then his eyes widened in fear, and he let out a deafening squawk. The Monsterooster staggered backward and fled around the house again where I could hear him clucking to himself. Clearly, he found us terrifying. The feeling was mutual.

“Okay, you guys stay here,” I told my friends. “I'll go see this Ilda person.”

“But, Jenny,” said Trish, “this is a real witch we're talking about!”

“Exactly. That's why I don't want you near her. Sir Knight, will you watch over my friends and make sure they stay out here where they're safe?”

“It would be an honor.”
Clang.

I pretended not to notice Melissa pouting. I'd rather have my friends mad at me than turned into coffee tables…or worse.

I sucked in a deep breath, marched up the path, and knocked on the candy-covered door.

“Fee, fie, foe, fum!” I heard someone say from inside the cottage. Then there was a loud giggle before the door flew open.

I stared at the witch, not because she was a hideous hag, but because she wasn't. She looked totally normal. Her face was round and pleasant; her gray hair was in tight curls around her head; and she wore a light pink cardigan with kittens embroidered on the front. She reminded me of my math teacher, only with fewer warts.

“Are you Ilda?” I said, making sure Sir Knight had brought us to the right house.

“I certainly am,” the witch said, adjusting the clasp of a silver necklace that was peeking out from under her sweater. “And you must be the new adventurer. Welcome, welcome! It's always lovely to meet someone new. You never know what you might learn!”

I didn't buy the cheerful act for a second. I was tempted to grab the witch's shoulders and shake her until she told me everything she knew about my parents, but I had to feel out the situation before I did anything drastic. Besides, I wasn't a people-shaker by nature.

“I've been told that the magic in this land is almost gone and that you're the one to blame,” I said instead.

“Oh dear. Blame?” Ilda said, like she was genuinely hurt. “I would hate to think people blame me when I'm just trying to help this land.”

“How is stealing the kingdom's magic and forcing people to do the Three Impossible Tasks helping anyone?” I said.

Ilda smiled, and I noticed her front teeth were crossed over each other, like they were lying. “I'm just trying to challenge people to learn. After all, puzzles stretch our minds.” Wow, she even sounded a little like my math teacher.

“What about the king and queen? How do I turn them back into their real forms?”

“Oh, those two,” she said, shaking her head like she was talking about misbehaving kids. “I'm afraid we've never quite seen eye to eye. But if you're serious about changing them back, I'm sure we can work something out.” She took a step forward, and her thick, old-lady perfume threatened to suffocate me. “And if you'd like to know more about your parents, Jenny, I can help you with that too.”

I blinked. “How do you know who I am?”

She shrugged, playing with her necklace again. “I hear things. I do have large ears, you know.” She turned her head and mumbled something under her breath. Her ears started to grow before my eyes until they were the size of pumpkins. Then—
Bam
! They exploded right in my face.

I shrieked and ducked, convinced I was covered in pieces of ear, but there was nothing on me. I straightened up and saw that Ilda was totally back to normal—ears and all—and smiling like she'd just won top prize at the state fair.

“You should have seen your face!” she said, tittering. “It was priceless.”

Anthony had said that Ilda was crazy with a capital Q, but that was starting to seem like a serious understatement.

“Okay, here's the deal,” I said, smoothing my hair back into a ponytail. “I came to get this land's magic back, so tell me what I need to do to complete the tasks.”

“We're jumping right to business, are we?” said Ilda. She sighed like she was disappointed not to be able to pull any more exploding ear tricks. “All right, I'll show you. Come along!”

We left the cottage and walked up the road together past Sir Knight, who was shielding Trish and Melissa with his body and humming tunelessly the way people do when they're nervous.

“Sir Knight,” Ilda said with a smile so fake it looked painful. “How nice to see you. Your armor is looking so wonderfully shiny today.”

The knight's face turned bright red. Clearly, Ilda's curses were all a game to her.

Then her smile faded. “Oh my, I hope you're not planning to try the tasks again,” she added. “Don't forget that you only get one chance to attempt the Impossible Tasks. Once you fail, I'm afraid it's over. You don't want to break the rules, do you?”

Sir Knight quickly shook his head.
Cling. Cling.
“No, I-I'll do whatever you say. Just please d-don't make me sit under my desk again.”

“What is he talking about?” I asked.

Ilda just laughed and turned to where Melissa and Trish were standing with their mouths open, staring at the witch as if she were a movie star. “Friends of yours, Jenny?” she said. “Will they be accompanying you on your quest?”

I swallowed. I wanted to tell her that I'd be attempting the tasks on my own, but I knew Melissa and Trish would throw a fit. “Yes,” I said finally. “We'll be doing the tasks together.”

The witch's eyes twinkled. “How lovely. Just remember, if you go as a team, none of you may try the tasks again. This will be your only chance.”

“I understand,” I told Ilda, my voice oddly squeaky.

For some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that Ilda was a cat ready to pounce, and the rest of us were unsuspecting mice.

Wait. Mice!

I peeked into my bag to check on Leonard. I couldn't believe I'd totally forgotten about Princess Aletha's gift. Luckily, the pink creature was sleeping soundly, curled up with an old tissue.

“And one more thing,” I said to Ilda as I zipped up my bag. “You need to undo all the curses you've put on people, including Sir Knight.”

The witch laughed. “My, you certainly are demanding. Just like my old students.”

“Students?” I said.

“Oh yes,” said Ilda. “I was a schoolteacher once. There was a time when I taught every single child in this kingdom.”

Now Sir Knight's comment about being punished made a little more sense. He'd probably had this crazy witch as a teacher.

“Alas,” Ilda went on, wistfully looking into the distance like a character on a soap opera. “The school mysteriously burned down one day and there wasn't enough magic to rebuild it.”

She put on a good act, but I was willing to bet Ilda had set that fire. After all, didn't
she
have enough magic to rebuild the school? But that wasn't why I was here.

“Will you undo the curses or not?” I asked.

Ilda let out a trilling laugh, though I had no idea what was so funny. She was really creeping me out. “Very well!” she said. “If you complete the tasks, we can negotiate. And rest assured, what I said about helping you with your parents was true.”

I tried to read her face, but her pasted-on smile told me nothing. “What's in it for you?”

“The pleasure of seeing people learn, of course. No one will be able to complete my tasks. They're called ‘impossible' for a reason. But it's such a joy to see the villagers attempting the tasks and realizing they can't succeed.” She giggled again and put her arm across my shoulders. I felt like a boa constrictor was wrapped around me.

I wrestled out of her grip and sped up. “Let's just get this over with.”

“Patience, my dear! Hasn't anyone ever taught you that?”

I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my cool. Ilda was like every bad teacher in the universe rolled into one.

A few steps later, she came to a stop. “Ah, here we are.”

We were at a low candy-cane fence that ran along one edge of the witch's property. I expected to see something that looked like an obstacle course set up for the Impossible Tasks, but beyond the fence was just grass and rocks and weeds.

The witch pointed toward the far-off trees, her painted nails sparkling in the sunlight. “Beyond the forest is a cave,” she intoned, sounding suddenly serious and terrifying. “Answer the troll's riddle and you will find an object within the cave. Bring it to me, and you will be rewarded.” Then she turned in the other direction. “Beyond the village is a lake. In its depths, you will find an object. Bring it to me, and you will be rewarded.”

Finally, she pointed back in the direction of the palace. “Beyond the hills is a mountain made of glass. At the top, you will find an object. Bring it to me, and you will be rewarded.” She turned to me, the now-familiar smile stretching across her face. “And if you don't…”

She didn't need to finish the sentence. We both knew would happen if I failed. The land's magic would be gone for good, and I would never find out what had happened to my parents.