No Place for Magic
Read No Place for Magic Online
Authors: E. D. Baker
Praise for
THE TALES OF THE FROG PRINCESS
"High-spirited romantic comedy. . . . This gives the well-known folktale a decidedly less than 'Grimm' cast, and fans of Gail Carson Levine's 'Princess Tales' should leap for it."
-Kirkus Reviews
on
The Frog Princess
"Quests, tests, hearts won and broken, encounters with dragons, and plenty of magic . . . As tasty as its prequel."
—SLj
on
Dragon's Breath
"Baker's . . . vividly imagined fantasy world, so rich in the details of jousting tournaments, conversational horses, fire-breathing dragons, cranky cursed aunties, or rancid evil fairies, [is] irresistible and loaded with humor."
-VOYA
on
Once Upon
a
Curse
"Emma encounters a full dictionary of magical creatures in this adventure, which includes some rousing and scary moments stitched together with a humorous, lighthearted spirit."
-Booklist
on
No Place for Magic
Books by E. D. Baker
THE TALES OF THE FROG PRINCESS:
THE FROG PRINCESS
DRAGON'S BRTATH
ONCE UPON A CURSE
NO PLACE FOR MAGIC
THE SALAMANDER SPELL
NO PLACE
FOR
magic
Book Four in
the Tales of the Frog Princess
E. D. BAKER
Copyright © 2006 by E. D. Baker
First published by Bloomsbury U.S.A. Children's Books in 2006
Paperback edition published in 2008
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Published by Bloomsbury U.S.A. Children's Books
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
Distributed to the trade by Macmillan
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Baker, E. D.
No place for magic : book four in the tales of the frog princess / by E. D. Baker.-ist U.S. ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Emma and Eadric travel to Upper Montevista to ask his parents to bless their upcoming marriage and discover that Eadric's younger brother has been kidnapped by trolls.
eISBN: 978-1-59990-218-0
1. Magic-Fiction. 2. Witches-Fiction. 3. Trolls-Fiction. 4. Humorous stories.]
I. Title.
PZ7.B17005N0P 2006 [Fic]-dc22 2005035544
Typeset by Westchester Book Composition
Printed in the U.S.A. by Quebecor World Fairfield
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
All papers used by Bloomsbury U.S.A. are natural, recyclable products made from wood grown in well-managed forests. The manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.
This book is dedicated to Ellie for being my sounding board, to Kimmy for laughing at all the right places, to Victoria for her insight, to Nate and Emiko for their support and enthusiasm, and to all my wonderful fans who wrote to me wanting to know what happens next.
Contents
A
tendril brushed my face, tickling me on the nose. I jerked my head back and whacked it on the table leg behind me. "Wretched plant!" I said, rubbing my head with one hand as I pushed the vine away with the other.
Ever since my aunt had returned to her normal self, she hadn't been able to keep her mind on anything but her beloved Haywood. Her magic had suffered for it, becoming muddled and not quite as she'd intended. The flowering vines she'd planted in the Great Hall to celebrate their reunion had spread across the walls, engulfed the table legs, and threatened to cover the doors and windows. Because they were too tough for an ordinary knife to cut, it was up to me, the Green Witch, to keep them under control. Once again I was on my hands and knees, bumping my head and banging my elbows as I used magic clippers to trim the ever-growing vines.
Being the Green Witch meant that I had a lot of extra responsibilities. Although I was the most powerful witch in Greater Greensward, as well as its only princess, most of the things I had to do as its protector were neither glamorous nor exciting. At least I didn't have to clean out the moat very often, a job I really hated.
I was reaching for the next curling vine when a bright yellow butterfly landed on my finger and fluttered its wings as if trying to get my attention. "What do you want?" 1 asked.
The butterfly stomped its feet with impatience. I raised my finger to my ear and tried to listen, but couldn't hear anything over the usual early morning bustle of the Great Hall. Squires were cleaning their knights' weapons while flirting with passing maids. My father's hounds were scuffling over a bone in the corner. The steward was directing the hanging of new banners along the walls.
I could hardly hear the tiny insect, but then I remembered that their voices were extremely soft. Hearing them requires a magic spell, undivided attention, and a very keen ear. I'd had enough practice creating my own spells that coming up with one to hear the butterfly was easy.
Although I'd never spoken with a butterfly before, I expected its voice to be sweet. Instead it sounded like an old man who was hoarse from shouting. "Take your time, lady," said the butterfly. "I don't have anything better to do—just flit from flower to flower until I've inspected every one in that garden. It shouldn't take me much longer than, say . . . my entire life! So, what's it going to be? Are you going to see the old lady or not?"
"Who are you talking about?"
"I knew you weren't paying attention. I could be back at work doing something important, but no, I had to carry a message to someone who can't even be bothered to listen!"
"I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you. What was your message?"
"I don't have time for this! The old lady with the roses wants me to tell you that she's going to work on her house today. She wants to know if you're going to come help. That's it. That's all I know. If you'll answer her question, I'll be on my way. I have a lot of flying ahead of me, so if you don't mind .. ."
"Yes, I'll be there. You have your answer—now go."
A shadow loomed over me as the butterfly zigzagged across the Great Hall- and up to one of the windows. "What was that all about?" demanded my mother, who had slipped up behind me.
I sighed and turned around. Although the removal of the family curse had made my grandmother and aunt sweet and kind again, it hadn't done a thing for my mother. She hadn't been affected by the curse, so she was the same as she'd always been. It didn't matter to her that I was the Green Witch and sixteen years old; she still treated me as if I were five. The only time she listened to what I had to say was when I turned into a dragon, and then
everyone
paid attention to me. Most of the time, she tried to tell me what to do while I tried to avoid her.
If I'd been thinking clearly, I might have given her some excuse, but instead I made the mistake of telling her the truth. "I told Grandmother to let me know when she was going to work on her cottage. She sent word that she's about to start."
"So you're going to the Old Witches' Retirement Community? Then we can ride in my carriage together. I was planning to go see her today anyway."
"Ride?" I said, adding the vine clippings to the pile I'd already started. I hadn't ridden in a carriage for months, because I hated the jostling and bumping and now had other ways to get around. As the Green Witch I toured Greater Greensward on my magic carpet every few weeks. When I wasn't using the carpet, I generally flew another way, as a bird, a bat, or a dragon, although being a dragon was the most fun.
"I was just about to leave," I said. "If you have something to do first, you can come when you're ready." I was still hoping that I could go by myself. The Old Witches' Retirement Community was only a few minutes away if I went as a dragon, leaving me enough time to stretch my wings and soar above the clouds and . . .
"I'm ready now," said Mother. "You won't get out of it that easily."
It had been almost two months since I'd learned how to turn myself into a dragon. I'd done it out of necessity at the end of the tournament held to celebrate my sixteenth birthday. My grandmother and aunt had gotten into a magical argument, and I'd had to turn myself into the biggest, fiercest creature that I could think of to get them to listen. Since then I'd taken to saying the spell so often that the people of Greater Greensward had grown used to seeing a green dragon soaring overhead. I liked being a dragon because it made me feel stronger and freer than I'd ever felt before. As a dragon, I could also fly farther and faster than in any other form I'd ever tried.
Unfortunately, traveling with my mother meant that I wasn't going to get a chance to be anything but my human self. She never had wanted me to do magic, although she had gotten used to it after I proved that I had the talent. Recently, we'd formed a sort of unspoken truce; she wouldn't tell me how awful magic was and I wouldn't use it around her unless it was absolutely necessary, but there was always the chance that one of us might forget and slip. Because this made our relationship even more strained and uncomfortable than it had been already, being in a confined space with her for any length of time was one of the last things I wanted to do.
The ride was worse than I'd feared; a heavy rain the night before had scoured large ruts in the roads, and of course my mother refused to let me use my magic to do anything about them. She and I both knew that I would eventually be the one to fix them, just not while she was there. We were well inside the enchanted forest on the road to Grandmother's cottage when we hit a bad bump and I thumped my head against the side of the carriage.
Mother clicked her tongue and said, "I suppose you're going to tell me that you'd rather be flying. Don't bother," she added when I opened my mouth to speak. "I know you don't like spending time with me. You never have. You always preferred my sister's company over mine, and who could blame you? Her responsibilities were exciting, whereas I had the boring and thankless job of supervising the running of a castle. And now that you're safeguarding the kingdom with your magic, you have even less time for me."
"I didn't know that you . . ."
"Of course you didn't," she snapped. "You never think about how I feel. I just hope that when you have a daughter, she considers your feelings more than you have mine and shows you more respect as well. I know you think I'm foolish and don't know what I'm talking about, but I'm right far more often than you think I am."
"I never . . ."
"It would serve you well to start listening to me. Ah, here we are," she said, leaning forward to peer out the window. "I hope your grandmother has the presence of mind to let me choose the candy for those shutters. Oh, dear, is that my father? I thought he was still at the castle."
"He is moving in with her," I reminded my mother.
She sighed and sat back in her seat. "I know and there isn't a thing I can do about it. It's a very bad idea, if you ask me. She'll catch her death of cold if he stays in her cottage, mark my word!"
My grandmother's cottage was one of the more traditional styles of candy-decorated gingerbread. Since the curse had ended, she often invited the family to visit, and Eadric had grown fond of the icing on her roof. I thought it was only right that I help her patch her house, considering how much of it Eadric had eaten.
Grandmother was waiting by her gate when the carriage rolled to a stop. "Where's my favorite young man?" she asked, craning her neck to look around me as I stepped down. "I made some extra gingerbread for him."
"If you mean Eadric, he went hunting with Emma's father," Mother declared, appearing in the door of the carriage. My mother had long feared that no one would ever ask for my hand, and even though Eadric wanted to marry me, she seemed to resent him, perhaps because she hadn't chosen him herself.
"I'll save it for him then," Grandmother said. "Come see what I've done so far, Emma. I've decided to build an addition. Your grandfather should have some space he can call his own. Oh, good. Here he is now."
A blue haze drifted toward us from the direction of the rosebushes, taking on the vague outline of a man. As it drew closer, it became more distinct until I was able to recognize the ghost of my grandfather King Aldrid. Even so, the sunlight kept him from looking as nearly solid as he did when indoors.
"Hello, my dears," he said in a whispery voice. "It's a pleasure to see you."
We shivered at his approach. Grandmother pulled her shawl more closely around her shoulders and smiled up at him. "I'll go see about the candy," Mother said, backing away. Glancing at her father's ghost, she hurried around the corner.
"I'm sorry I disturb her so," said Grandfather.
Grandmother shook her head. "It isn't your fault, dearest. Chartreuse was the first to hear about your death from the banshee and took it very hard. It was difficult for her to accept that you'd come back as a ghost."
Everyone knew that my mother was afraid of ghosts. For years she had claimed that she didn't believe in them, a convenient reason for not visiting her own father, who spent most of his time in the dungeon. However, everyone had seen him kiss my grandmother, thereby ending the family curse. Mother could no longer pretend that he didn't exist. Even so, she tried to avoid his company, claiming that the chill of his ghostly presence gave her the sniffles.
Once the curse had ended and Grandmother was once again her sweet self, Mother visited her more often. "Making up for lost time," she called it. I wondered if she would still come around after Grandfather moved in.
While Grandmother and I fetched the cooled slabs of gingerbread, my mother stayed inside the cottage, collecting the candy. One of the community rules stated that the occupants had to repair their cottages themselves without the use of magic or hired hands, although they could get friends or relatives to help. This seemed odd in a community where many of the cottages walked around on chicken legs and the magic was so thick at times that the air seemed alive with it. I think it was meant to promote community spirit, but whatever the reason, it meant that even the older witches residing there remained active.
We were setting the first slab of gingerbread in place when Grandfather said, "Has Eadric heard from his parents? They were so angry when they left."
Grandmother shook her head. "I still can't believe that woman said those things. She had a lot of nerve, calling Emma a horrid little witch and all those other awful names. They suited me, not you," she said, glancing in my direction.
"Those names don't suit you anymore," I said. "And I hope that isn't how she feels about me now. After his parents left, Eadric wrote to her, telling her how much he loves me. She's my future mother-in-law—at least I want her to be."
Grandmother gave me a sharp look. "You're not going to let her stand in the way of your marriage, are you? The women in our family have more spine than that!"
"I'm still going to marry Eadric. It's just that I'd rather do it with his parents' blessing. I don't think his father hates me like his mother does, but he didn't seem too happy that I'm a witch. And didn't you hear Queen Frazzela say that they'd pass Eadric over and give his brother, Bradston, the crown if Eadric married me?"
"Do you really think they'd do that?"
"I don't know, but I'd rather not take the chance. His whole life Eadric has been planning to rule Upper Montevista. I don't want to be the one to stand in his way. And can you imagine what an awful king Bradston would make?"
My mother had returned carrying a basket of gumdrops, but I noticed that she was careful to stay as far as possible from my grandfather. "I told you that taking an interest in magic was a bad idea," she said. "If you hadn't started practicing, she wouldn't have had anything to complain about."
"Don't be silly, Chartreuse," said Grandmother. "I didn't raise you to be so shortsighted. If Emma hadn't shown an interest in magic, your sister, Grassina, and I would still be under the influence of that awful curse and I wouldn't have my Aldrid back. Frazzela is just too muzzy-headed to recognize a gem when she sees it. Our little Emma would make anyone proud."
