Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,22

went. Hattie issued commands and I retaliated. But there was no balance. Hattie was always ahead. She had the power. She held the whip.

Areida was my only comfort. We ate our meals side by side. We sewed together. In our dancing lessons, we were partners. I told her about Frell and Mandy and Char. She told me about her parents, who kept an inn. They weren't wealthy, another reason she was unpopular. When she left school, she would use her accomplishments to help them.

She was kinder than anyone I'd ever known. When Julia, the tall wench, ate too many grapes from Madame Edith's arbor and was sick all night, Areida nursed her, although Julia's friends slept soundly. I helped, but only for Areida's sake.

My nature was not so forgiving.

In the garden one evening, I found myself telling Areida about Mother.

"Before she died, we used to climb trees like this one." I rested a hand on the trunk of a low-branching oak. "We'd go way up and sit as quiet as could be.

Then we'd toss twigs or acorns at anyone who passed beneath."

"What happened to her?" she asked. "Don't tell me if you don't want to."

I didn't mind. When I finished telling her, she sang an Ayorthaian mourning song.

"Hard

farewell,

With

no

greeting

to

come.

Sad

farewell,

When

love

is

torn

away.

Long

farewell,

Till Death dies.

"But

the

lost

one

is

with

you.

Her

tenderness

strengthens

you,

Her

gaiety

uplifts

you,

Her

honor

purifies

you.

More

than

memory,

The lost one is found. "

Areida's voice was as smooth as syrup and as rich as gnomes' gold. I cried, steady tears, like rain. And, like rain, they brought ease.

"You have a beautiful voice," I said when I could speak.

"We Ayorthaians are all singers, but Singing Mistress says my voice is too husky."

"Hers is thin as a string. And yours is perfect."

A bell rang in the house, calling us in to prepare for bed.

"Is my nose red from crying?" I asked.

"A little."

"I don't want Ha-- the others to see. I'll stay out awhile longer."

"Manners Mistress will be angry."

I shrugged. "She'll only tell me I've disgraced the king."

"I'll stay with you. I can watch your nose and tell you when it's not red anymore."

"Pay attention. Don't let your eyes wander." I wrinkled the feature.

Areida giggled. "I won't."

"Manners Mistress will ask what we're doing out here." I was laughing too.

"I'll tell her I'm watching your nose."

"And I'll tell her I'm wrinkling it."

"She'll want to know what the king would think of our behavior."

"I'll tell her the queen watches every night while he wrinkles his nose seven times."

The bell rang again.

"Your nose isn't red now," Areida said.

We ran for the house and met Manners Mistress at the door, on her way to search for us. The sight of her set us off again.

"Young ladies! Go to your room. What would the king say?"

In the hall, still giggling, we met Hattie.

"Having a nice time?"

"We were," I answered.

"I won't keep you then, but tomorrow, Ella, you must spend some time in the garden with me."

* * *

"YOU SHOULDN'T associate with the lower orders, like that wench from Ayortha," she said the next evening.

"Areida is a higher order than you are, and I choose my own friends."

"My dear, my dear. I hate to cause you grief, but you must end your friendship with her."

12

HATTIE RETURNED to the house, but I stayed outside. I watched her leave, hating her way of walking -- a mince combined with a waddle. She stopped to pick a flower and lift it to her nose, posturing for me.

I sat on a bench and stared down at the pebbled walk. In all the times I'd imagined the miseries she could inflict on me, I'd never imagined this. I'd thought of injuries, and I'd imagined terrible embarrassment, but I'd never thought of this kind of hurt.

Areida was in our room now, waiting to give me a lesson in Ayorthaian. I remained seated. I couldn't face her.

Was there a way to stop being her friend without hurting her? I could pretend I had suddenly become mute so I wouldn't be able to talk to her. But in that circumstance she'd be my friend as much as ever. She'd talk to me, and we'd invent a sign language, which would be great fun. And that wouldn't be ending our friendship, so the curse wouldn't let me do it. Besides, a mistress would be sure to say, "Speak, Ella," and I would have to.

I could announce I'd taken a vow of loneliness. But Areida would be hurt that I'd taken such a vow.

If only Mother hadn't forbidden me to tell about the curse. But then again, explaining would be an act of friendship, which the curse also