The Princess and the Page Page 15

  I laugh. It comes out like a nervous, freaked-out kind of laugh. “Oh, no. The ghost is the last thing I’m worried about right now. It’s Monsieur.”

  “Oh, yes! I met him this morning. He seemed kind of weird, but nice enough. Hey! Not that way; the tables belong inside the castle, not in the gardens!”

  I plop down on the top of my suitcase and groan while Bella reverts to organizing the delivery for the ball. How am I going to convince her to come with us?

  If only I could tell Bella the truth about who I am, but Mom forbade me. She said if Bella knew the truth, it could put her in even greater danger. And that in itself tears my heart apart. The gravity of the situation pulls at me, and I don’t know if I can hold up under the weight of it.

  Now I understand my mom’s need to keep secrets. Now I understand the lies.

  * * *

  I rush back upstairs to find Mom. Maybe she can convince Bella we need to leave, even if I can’t. The only problem is, Mom isn’t in her room. And not only that, her suitcase isn’t even packed! What happened?

  Then I spot a note on the dresser. It’s addressed to me.

  Dear Keira,

  I have decided I was being foolish and overreacting to not allow you to attend the ball with Bella. Therefore, I canceled our tickets, and we’ll be flying back to Florida at our original date. I’m being taken to a fantasy bookstore to buy stacks of wonderful novels before we leave.

  Have fun today and I’ll see you tonight at the ball.

  Love,

  Mom

  I read and reread the letter. Why would she do this? It doesn’t make sense! I toss the note aside in frustration. This was her idea, and after talking to Monsieur, for once I agreed with her one hundred percent. Something isn’t right.

  * * *

  I march downstairs to find Bella to tell her the news. At least somebody will be happy. But back outside, I find only the Dragon, wearing a designer black pantsuit with a thick silver choker, speaking with Mrs. Jones.

  “Cook quit?” Ms. Teppernat says in a shrill voice. “The little beast. Someone should have stopped her. Now what will we do?”

  “Oh, we thought we had stopped her from leaving,” Mrs. Jones says. “But this morning she left a note saying she quit. She must have snuck out. Can you believe it? It’s quite shocking.”

  “Well, it’s no matter. I suppose I’ll just put the caterer in charge of the banquet. That cook was zany anyway.”

  Then her eyes fall on me. “Keira! Whatever is the meaning of this suitcase? Bella says you two are leaving within the hour!”

  “Change of plans,” I say. “We’re staying until Saturday morning as planned. I was confused.”

  Maybe this is a good thing, I think. Maybe this will provide a way for me to save all of the people who had been vanished or even murdered. There’s still time for me to figure out a way to save Gabrielle and whomever the stepsister decides to kidnap and take to the Dark Tower tonight.

  When I finally find Bella and tell her, she throws her arms around me. “Thank you! This ball means so much to me. I’m so excited, but nervous, too.”

  “It’s going to be completely perfect.” I squeeze her hand.

  “Don’t ever think of scurrying off on me.” Ms. Teppernat wags her finger at me. “Now, hurry along and change into the dress Cheryl has picked out for you. Or did you forget to look at your revised schedule? Today’s your boating trip with the mermaid theme.”

  “Oh, I had nearly forgotten!” Bella says. “There’s just too much to do for the ball setup.”

  “I don’t want to go by myself,” I say, but in reality what I want to do is sit down and figure out a way to solve this problem.

  “Don’t worry.” Chet’s voice comes from somewhere above us. “I’ll tag along. I’ve been bored out of my mind all morning.”

  We all look up to find Chet rappelling down from the balcony above.

  “I guess you can come.” I narrow my eyes at Chet. “But only if you promise to tell me the truth about your dad.”

  “Saints alive, get down from there at once!” Ms. Teppernat says. “And the boating trip was designated only for the girls as part of their package. But I suppose if Bella wants you to take her place, I could allow it.”

  “Awesome!” Chet practically free-falls the rest of the distance, but surprisingly lands next to us with practiced ease.

  Detectives for Dummies Tip of the Day:

  If your investigation dead-ends, look at it from a

  different viewpoint.

  Cheryl changed me into a medieval-style dress. The top is sea green with a black corset secured around my stomach using a ton of intersecting strings. Then the ocean-blue skirt flows to my ankles and a matching bow is tied to the back of my hair. My face has been dusted with green and blue sparkles to portray a “mermaid glow” according to Cheryl. Chet and I follow Ms. Teppernat and the two camera guys down the path, all the way to the pier. Just ahead, two rowboats bob in the water. Ms. Teppernat’s cell rings as we reach the dock.

  “Unbelievable,” Ms. Teppernat says. “This better not be a problematic call.”

  She answers the call in her usual perky, sweet voice. Then her eyes bulge. She presses the phone against her shoulder and tells Chet and me she’ll be just a moment.

  “WHAT?” she screams. “That is completely unacceptable! I refuse to take no for an answer.” She paces the pier, her heels clicking against the wood. “I can’t work under these conditions. A wandering ghost, no cook, a destroyed ballroom, obnoxious kids. What next?” She stops mid-stride. “YES! The ball is tonight!”

  She throws her phone into the river and rattles off a string of really bad words.

  Chet and I clamp our lips, not daring to speak. Even the camera guys look uncomfortable.

  “Everything is a disaster!” she says. “It’s as though I’ve been cursed!” I cringe, hating that word. “Tonight has to be perfect,” Ms. Teppernat continues, now focusing on Chet and me. “My job is on the line here. Do you think you can manage that?”

  “To be honest,” Chet says, “perfection and I don’t really mix well.”

  “Um,” I say, all the while knowing the odds of tonight being a disaster are very high. Like maybe a one hundred percent chance. But Ms. Teppernat looks as if she wouldn’t mind breathing fire and scorching us alive, so I figure it’s always best to keep the Dragon happy. “Yes, I’m confident it will be perfect.”

  “Well.” Ms. Teppernat smooths out nonexistent wrinkles from her suit and clears her throat. “I may have gotten a little carried away. You two have a nice boat trip. The camera crew will follow you in the second boat. Be back at the castle after lunch. I’m going to deal with the madness that awaits me.”

  I don’t want the ball to go perfect for Ms. Teppernat. I want to find a way to keep someone from getting taken by the ghost tonight. Not only would I be able to save Gabrielle, but then it will also prove to Monsieur that he’s wrong about me being a Word Weaver. Even if he isn’t.

  Ugh! So much is riding on me fixing everything. If only I knew how to stop the disaster.

  After Ms. Teppernat storms away, Chet and I hop into one of the boats, me holding my skirts so I don’t trip, and push off from shore, each holding a paddle. The camera guys take the second boat.

  The castle emerges into view as we make the turn in the river. Seeing it, so beautiful and perfect, when in reality I know it’s haunted, only saddens me. This is all my fault. How could I have let this happen? I study each window, thinking about the different rooms, each already holding a memory. My eyes scan the roof.

  “Chet.” I squint harder at the roofline. “Remember when we went up into the attic?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Weren’t there only three front windows and two side windows on this side of the castle?”

  “Maybe. But I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  “Look at the top floor to the left of the turret. There’s a window I never noticed before because the only way
you can see this side of the castle is from the river.”

  “So you think there is another room up there?”

  “Yes! The room on the far side has to be the one that was lit up when the Pegasus flew me by the castle. When we went up there before, I was so focused on discovering the missing objects that I didn’t consider the room I saw with Pegasus could be hidden.”

  “We should check it out.”

  I study him. Can I trust him? What is the truth behind him and his dad?

  “Is your dad really an actor?” I begin as I dig my oar into the water. “And if so, why is he pretending he’s not?”

  “Okay, truth time.” He sucks in a deep breath. “Yes, my dad really is Shan Valrose. And yes, he really is an actor.”

  My oar pauses mid-stroke, surprised at his admission. “Wow. And what about working as a spy?”

  “That’s true, too. Although I didn’t realize it until the other day when we were at the Internet café. I saw Dad’s email and put the pieces together. Apparently, that’s why we’re on this trip. So I asked him. When you guys came in, we were having a fight about it.”

  “So your dad is an actual spy and was sent to watch us?” I say, putting the pieces together. “That’s horrible. Not only are you liars, but you were paid to lie to me.”

  “You gotta believe me. He says it’s like acting. But hey, you call yourself a detective, right? How much different is that from spying?”

  “It’s completely different. Besides, its not acting if you’re living out real life. How can I trust anything you say now?”

  Chet paddles some more, quiet now. That excited, wild look that’s usually plastered all over his face has vanished, leaving only emptiness.

  “It was Monsieur who hired him, wasn’t it?” I say.

  “How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  My stomach turns. Not because the water is starting to get rough, but because this is how it feels to be betrayed.

  It’s all now clear how Monsieur knew the details of what had been happening at the castle and with the ghost. Chet told his dad, who in turn told Monsieur. The betrayal felt like someone stabbed me in the chest. I scrutinize Chet, still unsure if I can trust him.

  “Listen,” Chet finally says. “I’ve never had real friends before. Everyone always wants to be my friend because my dad is a famous TV actor and we are rich. And here I had the chance to be normal and for you to like me just because of me.”

  “That makes a lot of sense,” I snap. “You hang out with Bella and me and act like you’re our friend when you’re really sneaking around and telling all of our secrets to your dad and Monsieur? That’s not what a friend is.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But this is the first time Dad’s ever taken me on one of his trips. We finally got to be together, even if this place was boring at first. And when he gave me the spying assignment, it seemed really cool and it wasn’t hurting anyone. For the first time since I can remember, my dad and I had awesome talks.

  “But you’re right. It was dumb of me to think I could make friends and have a dad who wants to hang out just for fun.”

  “It’s not that, Chet,” I say. “You’re a cool kid. Even if your dad is some famous guy. You don’t need to pretend to be someone else to make friends.”

  “You really think I’m cool?”

  “Yeah, except when you’re spying on me.”

  “Listen,” Chet says. “Give me a second chance. I really want to help you with this ghost thing. Let me prove to you that I’m doing all this as your friend. Not actor kid or spy kid.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  I wonder what it must be like to always be trying to get your parents’ attention. I had the opposite problem. My parents are excessively protective and noisy. I hide things like my writing utensils and novels from my parents. While Chet goes to extremes to get any attention from his dad.

  A heavy wind blows across our faces as we float down the river Cher. In the distance, a gonging sound echoes. That couldn’t possibly be the grandfather clock in the castle, could it? My pulse quickens. The boat shifts and dives down a small dip in the river. I set my paddle aside and clutch the edge of the boat to keep myself from falling overboard. But the waves are becoming too strong and my oar flies into the river.

  I glance back to see where the camera guys are, but it appears they are stuck in a bramble of fallen trees. They’re digging their oars into the water and arguing.

  “Don’t worry.” Chet hunkers down and pushes his oar into the water to keep us from crashing into a massive rock ahead. “I’ve got plenty of experience with river rapids. At least on my Outdoor Adventures video game back home.”

  “I don’t think Ms. Teppernat knew this river had rapids,” I say. “And why didn’t we think to wear life jackets?”

  “Life jackets?” Chet’s voice trembles slightly for the first time since I met him. “Yeah, maybe that would’ve been a good idea.”

  Whitecaps build up along the tips of the water’s surface. Our tiny boat tosses about along the river that has become a frothing surge of water. As the waves crash against the rocks, the water sprays into the air, reminding me more of glitter than water. The water crystals almost hang above us, as if transforming before my eyes, sparkling like stars.

  “Something is wrong!” I have to shout over the surging waves. “Paddle to the shore.”

  “I’m trying! The current won’t let me.”

  Then the water before us bursts up like a geyser. Chet’s paddle is ripped away by the wind. We cling to the sides of the boat, barely able to hold on. The water drops like an endless waterfall, with our boat hovering at the precipice. The geyser’s center opens up and a horde of fish fly out of it. But these aren’t just normal fish. Their mouths widen, revealing jagged teeth. Snapping with hungry jaws. The air fills with the sound of barking.

  “Ahhh!” Chet screams. “Piranhas!”

  A gleam inside of the boat catches my attention. Strapped to each side is a sword. My fingers fumble to release one from its bindings.

  “Chet! Get your sword!”

  He glances back. “What are you talking about?” I toss him the jewel-hilted one. He snatches it out of the air like he’s been fencing all his life. “Hot fire!”

  “Remember when I wrote that story in my room and you said you wanted to be a pirate with a jeweled sword. I think this is my story coming to life.”

  He slashes at the oncoming monster fish. “But I didn’t say anything about piranhas!”

  Finally, the other sword is free, and I grip it tightly in my hand. At first I’m not sure I even know what to do with it. But when a flying fish sails through the air, eager to take a chomp out of me, I slice the air in a perfect arc, severing the fish in half.

  “What’s up with the rowboat?” Chet says. “Next time, make the pirate boat be a ship. A big, giant one. With a glass case to keep these suckers out.”

  “How about next time don’t mention boats or swords or pirates. It’s too dangerous!”

  Chet and I fight side by side, wobbling back and forth in the tiny rowboat, desperately trying to not fall in. One of the fish clamps down on his arm. The teeth are razor sharp, digging into his skin. He yowls out in pain. I don’t hesitate. I stab the fish in the eye. Its jaws release their hold and it flops about on the boat. I kick it overboard.

  “Fire and smoke,” Chet says. “You saved my life.”

  I cut the air, slicing the last of the fish in half, and shrug. “More likely your arm.”

  And then all is silent, other than the churning of the waves. I’m about to sit back on the bench and attempt to use my sword for an oar when the center of the geyser bubbles up again.

  “Uh-oh,” Chet says. “Tell me I didn’t ask you to write about a sea serpent.”

  From the depths of the river rises a massive sea serpent. Its green scaled skin glitters like emeralds stitched together. Its body is wider than our entire boat. It slithers around us, slipping in and out
of the water like it’s playing hide-and-seek. Sharp spikes peak up along its back all the way to the giant tail fin. An eye blinks, assessing us, while it flicks its tail into the water, causing massive splashes and sending our little boat tossing and churning.

  “Next time you write a story, I promise, promise, promise I won’t mention sea serpents,” Chet says. He’s holding his sword bravely, but his legs are shaking.

  “Next time?” I laugh hysterically. “I don’t think there will be a next time.”

  “Word Weaver,” the sea serpent says. I’m so shocked that it can speak, I almost miss its next words. “You should not interfere. Danger lies ahead if you do.”

  “But what if I have to?” I yell back, coughing from the spray of water that gushes around me. “The princess will be taken to the Dark Tower and the vanishings will only continue if I don’t do something. And if the story happens as it’s supposed to, then some really bad people will take my mom and me away.”

  “There is only one way to proceed,” the serpent says, voice rumbling like thunder. “Yet it is a perilous risk. Things of the past must be made right.”

  The serpent’s long, spiked tail beats against the water’s surface, causing the boat to be flung into the air. Perhaps he meant for us to go flying back to land, except that’s not what happens. I claw at the edge of the boat, desperate for its solidness.

  But all I find is empty air.

  My body plunges into the water and I sink down, down, down.

  Darkness fills the river and slices off any glimpses of sunlight from the surface. I kick and grope, hoping to find the surface or even the bottom of the river. But I don’t. Then I remember the advice from my camp instructor. If you fall into water and you can’t figure out where the surface is, just allow your body to naturally float upward.

  So I steady myself, waiting. My lungs are exploding. Panic floods my senses. I have only seconds left.

  Safety Tip of the Day: When boating, always wear

  coast guard–approved life jackets. Do be sure to check

  that your life jacket fits snugly.