Tangled Magick by Jennifer Carson Page B

nowhere, we’ll send the owl.” Poppy sighed as the door creaked open.
    Folkvarus poked his head in the room. “You two, follow me.”
    Poppy gave Mae a worried look. Mae shrugged as if to say,
He’s given us no reason not to trust him.
Trina leapt into her pocket and peeked out as she followed Folkvarus into the hallway.
    The grand chamber was full of noise. Trolls squabbled and wrestled and yelled and shoveled food into their fanged mouths. The smell of roasted chicken made Mae’s mouth water, but the stench of the trolls tempered her appetite somewhat.
    Beady dark eyes followed the two hapennies as they crossed the large room. Mae could hear the licking of lips as she hurried across, pushed the swinging door Folkvarus had disappeared through, and emerged into a warm kitchen. The smell of oat and berry mush made her stomach growl. Trina’s whiskers shivered as her nose twitched with eagerness.
    â€œWhat’s this, then?” Cook Barley turned and scowled. He had the same slightly vacant and sad look as Mr. Whiteknoll. He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to remember something. Then his face softened. “Oh, girls. Your beautiful hair.”
    Poppy’s hand reached for the braid that wasn’t there. Mae smoothed her chopped curls.
    â€œThe girls will be needing something to eat, Barley,” Folkvarus said.
    Cook Barley nodded and gathered a couple of bowls. He ladled a bit of mush in each one and set them on the table. His scowl had returned. “And for you, Folkvarus?”
    â€œNothing now.” He gave the girls a little shove. “Go on. Eat it. Meals for servants don’t come at regular intervals—only when you can sneak them in.”
    Mae picked a berry out of the bowl and gave it to Trina as another troll-like creature entered the kitchen. A loud roar of voices followed her, fading as the door swung shut. She carrieda tarnished silver tray filled with bones. “She must be in a good mood today,” she said as she eyed the girls sitting at the table.
    â€œWere those
our
chickens?” Poppy asked. Her face turned as red as her hair.
    Mae elbowed her. She felt Trina wiggle out of her pocket and jump to the floor.
    â€œYes, I’m afraid they were,” the troll-like creature said. “Name’s Gilda. Head server for the queen…unfortunately.” She flashed a grin, which could have been scary except for the fact that her eyes twinkled. “You’re new, so I’ll tell ya that I’ve found hopefulness keeps the enchantments at bay,” she said. “Without it, you’ll easily fall into despair.”
    Mae’s ears perked. “Enchantments?”
    â€œThat’s enough, Gilda.” Folkvarus cut her short and gestured with his eyes to the gargoyle carving above the hearth. The gargoyle wiggled his ears and crossed his eyes at Mae. She averted her gaze quickly.
    Gilda nodded and cleared her throat. “Eat up and get back to work, you two!” She scowled at them. “The queen’s castle ain’t gonna clean itself. That much is obvious.”
    Cook Barley tossed a couple of rolls on the table and gave Mae a wink. “Chin up!”
    â€œWhen you are finished, return to the queen’s chamber,” Folkvarus said.
    â€œWhat will we have to do now?” Poppy said. “We’ve already scrubbed the floors, gotten rid of the cobwebs, polished the wardrobe, dusted the mantel, gathered the laundry—”
    â€œWhatever she wants you to do.” Folkvarus nodded to them and strode across the kitchen. The loud cacophony of voices again filled the room until the door swung closed behind him.
    â€œI suppose we’re in for a cold night on the stone floor.” Poppy stuck her spoon in her oat mush and pushed it around.
    Mae nodded, but her thoughts were on Gilda and Folkvarus’s strange behavior and the gargoyles who seemed togrow right from the walls and mantels. “Cook