The Wide-Awake Princess (6 page)

“Rabbit stew.”

“That’s right. And I’m just about to take a nice berry pie out of the oven. Come in, my dear, and make yourself at home.”

Annie’s foot bumped something as she began to move away from the window. She bent down to see what it was and found a large chunk of striped candy. Picking it up, she realized that it was the piece of the shutter that had broken off. The air smelled like nutmeg and ginger. When she looked closer, she saw that the walls were made of gingerbread decorated with sugar dots and icing swirls.

Annie frowned as she walked toward the open door. The humming of the magic was constant and reminded her of an old lullaby. It also reminded her that the old woman was probably a witch, yet there was no indication that she was a bad witch, at least none that Annie could hear.

“Just call me Granny Bentbone, dear. So many people do.”

“I’m Charlie,” Annie replied, hoping that the clothing she wore made her look enough like a boy to make the name believable.

“Are you hungry, my sweet? I’m sure you must be,” the woman said, ushering Annie into the cozy kitchen. “I’ve cooked... what is it again?”

“Rabbit stew,” said the boy.

Annie paused for a moment to admire a peppermint
stick that rose from floor to ceiling. It was as big around as her waist and looked like a support post put there to hold up the roof. She glanced up and saw that other sticks acted as beams to support the candy ceiling.

“Won’t you join us, dear?” The woman gestured to a stool next to the one where the little girl was perched. The stools and the table were shorter than normal, as if they had been built for children or dwarves with small bottoms. Annie smiled at the little girl as she sat down. The girl’s lips parted in a shy smile, showing the gap of missing teeth. Seated on the other side of the girl, the boy nudged her and placed another piece of bread on her trencher, drawing her attention away from Annie.

Something scrabbled at the floor on the far side of the room and Annie raised her head to look around. A ladder led up to a loft across from where she was sitting. A wide cupboard painted a cheery yellow with a green vine and red and blue flowers stood beside a fireplace where a crackling fire burned. A metal door on the other side of the fireplace covered the opening for an oven big enough to fit a small ox. On the floor near the oven door there was a woven basket. Inside the basket a gray-furred animal lay staring up at Annie with beady eyes that didn’t blink. It had a sharp little twitchy nose and whiskers that quivered with every breath.

“That’s the biggest rat I’ve ever seen,” Annie said under her breath.

Granny Bentbone saw where Annie was looking.
“That’s my little dog… What’s his name again? Just a minute, dear.” The old woman walked along the wall, eyeing it closely, until she stopped suddenly and said, “I think it’s... Yes, that’s it. He’s Fluffy. I need to feed him.”

“He bites!” whispered the little girl, looking solemn.

“I bet!” Annie said, and the little girl giggled.

While Granny Bentbone cut a chunk from a wheel of cheese and set it in a dish for Fluffy, Annie peered at the wall, puzzled by the way the woman had been studying it. And then she saw them—little candy hearts, some made of pink sugar, some of yellow. They were everywhere and they all seemed to have something written on them. Annie leaned toward the one closest to her. It read:

Brush your teeth before you go to bed.

“Interesting,” Annie murmured.

The little boy had been watching Annie. “She forgets things a lot,” he whispered. “She reads those hearts and they tell her what to do. Sometimes she remembers things, but then she forgets them again. Can you read? We can’t, although I wish I could. I’d like to know what some of those hearts say.”

“So would I,” Annie whispered back. The writing on the hearts was so small that she could read only those closest to her. The wall on the opposite side of the room sported dozens, some of which were covered with the tiny writing.

Granny Bentbone was carrying a mug to the cupboard when she said, “You must be lost. So many are. That’s why they come this far into the forest.”

Annie turned to the children seated beside her. “Were you lost?”

The little boy nodded. “I’m Tomas and this is my sister, Clara. We’re here because of our new stepmother. She said we eat too much and didn’t leave enough for her children, Poopsie and Wiggles.”

“Why would anyone name their children Poopsie and Wiggles?” asked Annie.

“They are dogs,” said Tomas. “She just calls them her children. She gave them our food to eat and put our clothes on them and called them by our names, then took us for walkies in the woods and left us there.”

“We waited for Papa to come get us, but he never did,” said the little girl. “So we started walking until we saw this cottage.”

Fluffy brushed past Annie’s legs. She grimaced and pulled her legs back, then watched him waddle to the peppermint stick post, which he began to gnaw.

“Papa probably hasn’t noticed we’re gone yet,” Tomas told Annie. “He leaves every morning before the sun comes up and gets home after we would be in bed.”

“Do you need someone to help you find your way back?” Annie asked. She was in a hurry to get to Shimshee, but if their cottage wasn’t too far out of her way...

“We don’t want to go back,” said the girl. She yawned and rubbed her eyes with her fists.

“Papa wasn’t our real father,” said Tomas. “Our real father lived in a castle. Papa stole us away when Clara was just a baby. That’s where we’re going now—to find our real father.”

“Don’t lie, Tomas,” Clara told him. “Papa will take a strap to you again if he finds out you’ve been telling fibs.”

The little boy looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he glanced from his sister to Annie and Granny Bentbone before turning his face away.

“I’ve invited them to stay here with me,” said Granny Bentbone.

Annie watched the old woman pick up a big bowl of rabbit stew. She was carrying it to the table when she staggered and nearly fell. “Fluffy!” she said, wagging her finger at the rat. “You have to stay out of my way. I’m too old for such shenanigans.”

“Maybe he needs to go out,” said Annie. “Our dogs at home like a little exercise before they go to bed.”

“What a good idea!” said Granny Bentbone. “Come along, Fluffy. A little fresh air will do us both good.”

Annie waited until the old woman had shooed her “dog” outside, then she sprang to her feet and ran to the wall. She was curious about the candy hearts; reading them might be a good way to learn about Granny Bent-bone. The first few weren’t much help.

Remember to feed Fluffy!
If you are hungry—eat!
You sit on the white pot.
You cook with the black pot.

If children come to the cottage, invite them in.
Do not let adults in!

“That’s odd,” Annie said to herself. “Is she afraid of something?” The next heart was a reminder that the dog was named Fluffy. The note after that made Annie feel as if a cold finger were tracing her spine.

When children come to the cottage,
lock them in the cages at night.

“And this woman does what these things say? That’s horrible!” It took Annie only a moment to peel the candy heart off the wall and stuff it into her pocket. Hearing Granny Bentbone at the door talking to Fluffy, she knew that she didn’t have long to read, and there were still dozens of candy hearts on the wall.

A heart on a door leading off from the kitchen simply read
Cages
. The next heart was bigger than the rest, as if it was more important.

Look in the room marked “cages.”
If there is a child in there–feed it.

You want it to be fat.
If it is fat, cook it.

Annie shuddered and glanced at the children sitting at the table. The food piled on the plates in front of them suddenly had a new and horrible significance. She broke her fingernail peeling the big heart off the wall and crushed it into dust once it was in her pocket. The door was already opening when she peeled off one last candy heart.

Find recipes for children in the big
blue book in the cupboard.

Annie shoved the candy heart into her pocket even as she hurried back to her seat. She broke it with her thumbnail and crumbled it while Granny Bentbone came back into the house alone.

Clara stopped licking the icing off a piece of cake long enough to ask, “Where’s Fluffy?”

“Who?” asked Granny Bentbone. She stared at the children, puzzled. “What are you doing here? Do I know you?”

“It’s us, Granny Bentbone,” said Annie as she got to her feet. “Charlie and Tomas and Clara. You said we should go to bed in the loft upstairs, remember? We were just waiting to say good night.”

“Oh, yes. I remember now. Good night, children.”

“But…,” said Clara.

“Good night, Granny,” said Annie as she pulled the children from their seats. When Clara tried to protest, Annie shushed her, saying, “If you go to bed now, I’ll tell you a story.”

Tomas saw the look on Annie’s face. “Let’s go, Clara,” he said, and helped Annie get his little sister up the ladder.

Annie had brought a candle from the table, and after closing the trapdoor, she used the candle’s light to find her way around the loft. There were no beds, nor had she really expected to find any, but there were baskets of well-worn clothes and a few old toys.

“Where are we going to sleep?” asked Clara, scrubbing at her sleepy eyes with her knuckles. “I want to go see Granny Bentbone.”

“You’ll see her in the morning,” said Annie. “Granny Bentbone is going to bed now, too.”

While the children watched, Annie moved the baskets out of the way. Taking clothes from the baskets, she spread them on the floor so that the children could lie down. “There you go,” she said, helping Clara onto the makeshift bed. “That’s much better than sleeping on the ground outside. Here, I found this.” She handed the little girl a doll.

The doll’s clothes were soiled and it was missing one arm, but Clara looked as if she’d been given a treasure. Her entire face lit up and she took the doll, clutching it
to her chest. Her eyelids were drifting shut when Annie covered her with an old cloak, and she was asleep before Annie kissed her on the cheek.

“So much for a bedtime story,” Annie murmured. “Tomas,” she said, looking up. “I need to talk to you.”

Tomas followed her to the other side of the loft, picking his way just as quietly around the baskets. “I read some of those hearts,” Annie whispered. “Granny Bent-bone is not a good person. She means to hurt us if we stay here. We have to leave at first light.”

“Why don’t we leave now?” asked Tomas.

“Where would we go? It isn’t safe in the woods at night. We’ll be fine here until morning. Granny Bent-bone can’t climb a ladder with that cane. Besides, there’s something I have to do after she goes to sleep.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Annie shook her head. “I need you to stay here and take care of Clara. She’d be frightened if she woke up and found that she was alone. You should lie down and rest. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“What if you aren’t?” Tomas asked, his voice wavering.

“Then you take Clara out of here as soon as you hear the birds singing outside and run as far from this cottage as you can. But don’t worry. I promise I’ll be back.”

Tomas didn’t look as if he believed her, so after tucking him in beside Clara, Annie assured him again, then didn’t leave until he had fallen asleep as well.

When it had been quiet downstairs for some time, Annie crept to the trapdoor and lifted it ever so slowly. The only light came from the fire in the fireplace and a candle that Granny Bentbone had forgotten to blow out. No one was there, so Annie climbed down the ladder, pausing at each rung to listen for even the smallest sound.

Picking up the candle, she tiptoed to the door marked “Cages” and took a deep breath. Annie opened the door a crack. When she didn’t hear anything, she pushed it wider and exhaled in a sigh of relief. There were four big cages in the room and all of them were empty.

Annie closed the door just as quietly as she had opened it and turned to face the room. There were so many candy hearts and she had no idea how much time she had. Although it was hours until daylight, if the old woman was a light sleeper, she might not have much time at all.

While the candle burned lower, Annie crept around the room, reading the candy hearts. Most of them were reminders to Granny Bentbone to keep herself clean and fed, but a few mentioned recipes and the location of certain pots and pans. Annie took these down and crushed them. When she’d read all of the hearts, she crossed to the cupboard and began looking for the cookbook. She found a box of blank candy hearts first, along with a small pot of icing and a quill pen. Taking them out of the cupboard, she carried them to the table and
sat down. It didn’t take her long to write her own messages on the candy hearts.

Do not eat meat. It makes you bloated.
Eat vegetables, pastries, and candy.
They will make you happy.

If children come to your door, give them
food and send them on their way.

A rat is not a dog. Do not feed the rats!

When she finished, Annie used the icing to stick the hearts to the walls where she’d already taken others down. After putting away the rest of the hearts as well as the pot of icing and the pen, she continued rifling through the cupboard and found the cookbook behind a cracked clay pitcher.

Annie didn’t want to touch the book, but she knew what she had to do. Crinkling her mouth with distaste, she picked up the cookbook and carried it to the fireplace, where she laid it on top of the dying fire. The flames flared up and one of the logs beneath it broke with a loud
crack!
Annie was climbing back up the ladder when Granny Bentbone came into the room.

“Who are you?” the old woman demanded. “What are you doing in my house? Are you a thief? Did you come to rob me?”

“No, Granny Bentbone. I’m your guest, remember? I just came downstairs for a drink of water.”

“Oh,” the old woman said. “I don’t remember where the water is.”

“That’s all right. I can wait until morning.”