Thrice Upon a Marigold by Jean Ferris Page A

didn’t about elephants? He spent more time in the stables with Hannibal than she did, that was for sure.
    â€œI wonder if he’ll wear dark glasses,” Marigold said.
    â€œWho? Hannibal?” Chris asked. “Why would he wear dark glasses?”
    â€œIt’s an elephant joke,” Marigold said. “The answer is, so he won’t be recognized.” She gave him a weary smile.
    â€œHuh,” he said, not appreciating yet another of her jokes. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wished the dogs could talk. I can see how hard he’s trying to tell us something, and I can only guess at what it is. What if it’s not about Hannibal at all?”
    â€œBut I think you’re right,” Marigold said. “It looks just like him. And even if dogs could talk, most of the time they’d probably just be saying they were hungry.”
    Chris thought dogs were more complex than that, but he figured this was not a good time to get into that conversation—especially since he thought that whatever dogs had to say, it would be better than an elephant joke.
    Bub
woof
ed to get their attention again, then resumed his stiff, swaying walk.
    â€œYep,” Chris said. “That’s Hannibal. I guess we have to get him out here with Bub and see what happens.”
    So once again the group made their way back to the castle through the mud and the oncoming darkness. Halfway there, poor exhausted Bub had to be slung across Chris’s saddle and hauled home like a sack of potatoes, while Cate, Flopsy, Mopsy, and Topsy sat perkily in their saddlebags, enjoying the view.
    Bub hoped Chris and Marigold had gotten the message that maybe Hannibal, with his huge trunk, would be able to sniff out any lingering, telltale scents that Bub, with only his black, dog-size nose, could not. It was a long shot, he knew, but he was desperate.
    Â 
    Trying to explain to Wendell what they thought Bub wanted wasn’t as hard as they thought it would be. Maybe it was because he was a wizard and was used to unusual happenings. Or maybe he knew how eager Hannibal would be to get out of the stables where he had been parked next to the jittery unicorns. Or maybe it was because he was as anxious to find Princess Poppy as anybody was.
    â€œWhen do you want him?” was all Wendell said.
    As much as Christian and Marigold wanted to go back into the forest immediately, they recognized the futility of trying to find anything in the falling darkness, even if they took torches.
    â€œAs soon as it’s light,” Chris said.
    And they all went off to spend the night tossing, turning, worrying, and waking suddenly from dreams so awful that they never mentioned them to anyone.
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    In the morning, they set off again, still without any of the guards but with Hannibal and Wendell. Sebastian was wondering if it was such a hot idea to go out without guards this time, but maybe the king knew best. Maybe all those guards, with their armor and their weapons jangling, would make it too hard to sneak up on the Terrible Twos. Or maybe the king feared the guards would be more interested in attacking than sneaking. Or maybe he feared Poppy could get hurt in a general melee. Still, an expedition that included a great white elephant wasn’t the most inconspicuous kind.
    â€œWere you surprised they believed us? When we said we knew it was the Terrible Twos?” Phoebe asked him.
    â€œSure,” Sebastian said. “Weren’t you?”
    She nodded. “Especially once they knew who we were. But the ransom note confirmed it, so I guess that gave us some credibility. Do you think we’ll find the baby?”
    â€œI hope so. Children should be with their mothers.”
    â€œYes,” she said wistfully. “What was your mother like?”
    â€œI wish I could remember. One day, when I was three, she went out to gather berries and never returned.”
    â€œReally?” Phoebe asked,