Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,49

to finish making your cake?" Mandy asked. "I thought you were hungry."

"No! I want her money." Olive's voice rose.

Mandy tried again. "What does a rich young lady such as yourself want with the wee savings of a scullery maid?"

"To make me richer. Mother and Hattie have much more than I do." She started to wail. "It's not fair."

My head hurt from not obeying, as well as from Olive's noise. I pushed the mixing bowl away. "Come with me."

My money was in my room, at the bottom of my carpetbag. I hunted through it without letting Olive see my Agulen wolf or my glass slippers. She probably wouldn't have recognized their value, but she might have talked about them to her mother or to Hattie.

I had only three silver KJs, enough to buy a few meals or a night at an inn.

Olive counted them twice.

"I have to put them away." She closed her fists over them and marched off.

I was penniless, stripped of the power that even a few coins bestow.

For a quarter hour I sat on my bed, enjoying the quiet and trying fruitlessly to think of new ways to break the curse. Then I returned to the kitchen to help Mandy with lunch. When I entered, Olive was there.

"Talk to me," she said.

* * *

IN THE EVENING, there was to be a formal dinner to console Mum Olga for Father's departure. I had to wash the floor in the hall in preparation while Mum Olga came by frequently to supervise.

"You must scrub on your knees, and add lye to the water. It scours best."

As soon as I submerged my hands, they smarted and burned. I drew them out of the bucket.

"Don't stop before you've started. The dinner is tonight, not next week."

The task took three hours, but my knuckles were bleeding in a quarter of the time. Occasionally other servants passed by. Some gawked, some seemed sympathetic. Nancy, the serving maid, came during one of Mum Olga's inspections. She crept behind Mum Olga and pantomimed dumping a pail of water over her head.

"Something amuses you?" Mum Olga asked.

I shook my head and stopped smiling.

At last I finished. In addition to bloody hands, my knees were bruised, and my arms ached. I wished I were a real servant, the sort who could quit one situation and seek another.

I returned to help Mandy in the kitchen. Fortunately, she was alone. As soon as she saw me, she rushed to her store of herbs and unguents and to the jug of Tonic.

"Sit down, sweet. I'll have you good as new in a minute."

Her remedies worked miracles, but better yet, during dinner I had revenge.

Mandy had just sprinkled parsley over thing servings of trout, and Nancy was ready to convey them to the guests.

"Wait!" I dashed to the herb cabinet. "Here." I scattered ground passiflora over one of the plates. "Give this one to my stepmother."

"What..." Nancy looked startled.

"Don't do it," Mandy said. "I won't have her ladyship blaming me when she starts snoring in front of her guests."

"Oh, is that all? Serve her right." Nancy took the plate and was off.

"A good lass, Nancy," Mandy said, grinning at me when she had gone.

Two servants had to carry Mum Olga to bed before the meal ended. But the festivities continued, culminating in dancing. I witnessed the dance because Hattie called me to tend the fire, and everyone saw me in my greasy, sooty state.

Afterward, while I undressed in my room, I thought about escape. Mandy would only use small magic, which was smaller help than I needed. And Char was hundreds of miles away and mustn't know of my troubles anyway.

Father. I hated to ask him for anything, but he was the only one who could help. I would write to him.

24

IN MY LETTER I played on Father's pride and described the part of my servitude that would most enrage him: tending the fire in front of the courtiers.

How dare they treat me so. And against your express wishes too! They order me about, and the more menial the task, the better.

I beg you to come home. Many merchants trade right here in Frell; why can't you join their number? Please come. My need is great. You know I would not ask otherwise. Come quickly. I am counting the days.

Your

daughter,

Ella

I gave the letter to Mandy to post. Perhaps it would overtake Father on the road. The mail coach driver knew him. It might reach him before my earlier letter got to Char. Father