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Part 30

Posted on Saturday, 1 May 1999

Beauty stood before the library door, which seemed ominously massive in its stance at the end of a still-dark hallway, the morning light not having crept so far into the castle. Her hand was raised to knock, but she could not bring it forward the required few inches to rap on the wooden panel and request entrance. That the Beast was within she did not doubt; though all was silent, a faint glimmer of firelight showed at the door's lower edge, proclaiming that the room was indeed occupied.

It was that silence, however, which unnerved her. Storming roars of anger or the thundering stomp of heavy paws were what she had expected to hear, since that was the behavior the Beast she knew would have displayed. But she didn't know him at all, did she? She looked down at his letter, carefully folded and firmly clutched in her other hand. All of her expectations and prejudices were overthrown, and without them she was at a loss.

The humor she had seen in the situation when she left her rooms had completely evaporated during the long walk through the empty and brooding corridors of Castle Lochlein. How she wished she had stayed in her room, where she might have had more time to think and reflect what her next step would be - and to scold herself for having acted so stupidly! She, who prided herself on her clear judgment and acute discernment of every aspect of human character, had been so terribly blind.

Her misperceptions had led her into folly before this, and each time she had blithely given an apology to those she had wounded, though until this moment she did not truly understand the nature of her offenses. But then surely an improved understanding would make penitence easier to accomplish? Why should the task now seem so impossible? Obviously accusing a king of having enchanted a castle and killed one's sister was a more serious error than, say, presuming the goodwife down the road had stolen a chicken which was later found to have wandered off on its own. However, if she was now aware of her own fault in having judged each person too quickly, Beauty thought, then the apology in the former case ought to be as simple as had been the apology in the latter.

Such rational explanations did nothing to convince her hand, which still refused to knock upon the library door.

Oh, why could not the fairy Elegant reappear, and magick the entire situation into perfection with the merest wave of her hand? Surely a being who showed such concern for the princes (and frogs) under her care would take pity on the distress of a humble woodcutter's daughter? And then this miserable situation would be resolved without any effort on Beauty's part...

No fairy did materialize, despite her wishing - probably because the woodcutter's daughter in question was not so humble as she would like to believe, and because since the distress had been hers to create, it was hers also to dispel. The fault was hers and so must the remedy be.

Beauty took another look at the door, having come another inch closer to knocking upon it. Well, she would make the best apology she could. And if the Beast spurned her contrition, what then? All she need do was wait in the castle until her sister returned, and then they could both depart - after Serenity freed Prince Cheerful, of course, for Beauty did not doubt that her sister's quest would be successful.

And yet - could she truly leave, without a thought for those she left behind: the King and his sister, his counselor, and the entire court still trapped in a terrible enchantment with no hope of release? No, the very idea was intolerable. Beauty's ideals and perceptions might often lead her astray, but her sense of honor and loyalty would not countenance such a cowardly action. Whether or not she regained the Beast's good opinion, she must do everything within her power to end the sorcerer's spell.

Well enough. There was her decision. Her hand was now within reach of the door.

She knocked firmly and waited though an eternity of quiet until she heard a deep rumbling voice say, "Enter."

Beauty slowly pushed open the heavy door, which swung inward on noiseless hinges, allowing the guttering firelight to spill into the carpeted hall. She did not at first see the Beast, but a slight movement alerted her to his presence in one of the large armchairs drawn up before the fireplace. A large book set on a table by his side showed that he had been continuing his research through the contents of the castle library.

"I require nothing, thank you." He had apparently mistaken her for one of the castle's invisible servants.

Beauty took firm hold of her courage, before it threatened to leave her again. "I gave you offense, my lord, and I have come to offer my apology."

The Beast was very quick; in an instant he realized who was visiting his library and was on his feet to give a bow of greeting. "Madam, I beg your pardon. I did not immediately see you..."

"No, my lord, it is I who must beg your pardon," Beauty interrupted. "I insulted you most abominably, and entirely without reason. Please say how I may earn your forgiveness." He turned back towards the hearth with a brusque gesture before she finished speaking, and Beauty felt afraid that she would never be able to make amends. "My lord...?" she asked, hesitantly.

"You will address me as Beast, madam, if you please. That will be kindness enough, from one who owes me no such courtesy."

Beauty took another step into the room. "Surely not, my lord! Your shape may remain an unnatural illusion, but it is no more than that. The gentleman who wrote the letter I received this morning deserves every respect I can give."

"Madam, I insist. You..." He hesitated as he finally realized what she had said. "A letter? You received a letter this morning? But I..." He looked directly at her for the first time, a perplexed expression crossing his features.

Beauty offered the letter to him, and he accepted it from her hand carefully. He spent a moment examining it, turning it over in his hands to read the inscription on the outermost sheet and to see the waxen seal on the opposite side. "This letter," the Beast murmured, so low Beauty could hardly hear him. He looked at the fireplace again, where the bed of embers had nearly extinguished itself. "Still more magic at work here - I no longer ought to be surprised."

She dared another step forward as the Beast returned the letter to her. Only a little farther, and she would be able to rest her hand on the tall back of the armchair.

"Madam, however you came to possess that letter, I am sorry to have imposed on you for the length of time required for it to be read."

"I must confess it was delivered to me in an unusual fashion, my lord," Beauty replied, "but why should you be sorry for it? There was much in it which I sorely needed to know, and I am glad to have seen it. Without it I should never have known the extent of my own folly - for which I must still beg your forgiveness."

The Beast still looked pained as he answered, "I assure you, madam, that there is nothing for me to forgive. All the offense was on my side, in recognition of which I must ask you again - please - to address me in no other fashion than what I have requested."

Beauty would have made another protest, but his obvious distress stopped her before she could speak. She could not, however, stop the impulse to move a little farther into the room. "We have both made mistakes since we first met, and now that we have recognized them we may put them behind us. You have my free forgiveness, and I hope I may have yours." She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she saw him slowly nod, not realizing until he made the gesture how afraid she was of his continuing displeasure.

"I thank you, madam," he said, turning towards her again. "You have made my heart easier than it has been for many long days."

Beauty blushed slightly at the warm tone of his voice and took a final step forward, gently laying her hand on his arm. The dark fur was surprisingly soft. She smiled then and looked up into his face, saying, "And I thank you, Beast."

They stood that way in shared quiet, until Beauty suddenly pulled her hand away, her eyes dropping to look at his arm in wonder. For the briefest instant, it seemed that her hand had touched the smooth sleeve of a man's linen shirt, but when she looked, she saw only the Beast's corded muscle and shaggy pelt.

Beauty gave herself a little shake to dismiss the strange impression - it had been a stressful morning, full of surprises and odd meetings, so no wonder if she was imagining things. She brushed aside the Beast's concerned inquiry with a light laugh, attributing her behavior to not having rested well the night before. Her companion offered a look of agreement, having struggled through his own sleepless night.

To the Beast's suggestion that a stroll in the garden might help to refresh them both, Beauty responded with a delighted affirmative. However, she did not again place her hand on his arm.

Part 31

Posted on Sunday, 16 May 1999

With the master of Castle Lochlein as her guide, Beauty found that the many glories of the central garden, previously blurred into a riot of color and scent, at last assumed their separate characters and significance. Here was the bed of lavender which his mother had planted when she first came to the castle. There were the soothing herbs with which his favorite nurse always tended him in illness. And away in the corner was the grand and stately oak which his distant ancestor, who set the first stones of the castle upon their foundation, had brought to this green and pleasant country as only an acorn.

In a sunny patch along one of the walls was a small area which was permitted to grow somewhat wild, and which held a variety of greenery in addition to half a dozen particular types of flower. This, the Beast explained, was his sister's creation, and she had designed it to attract the butterflies she loved so much. Indeed, many of the flowers were almost totally obscured by the bright fluttering creatures, and Beauty even managed to spy a few contented caterpillars munching happily upon the leaves of some of the other plants.

The sight of the butterflies reminded Beauty of the portrait of Princess Graceful in the long gallery inside the castle, and the Beast responded to her subsequent remark with several amusing anecdotes about his young sister. These stories did even more to put Beauty at her ease, since they told not of a prim royal lady who never moved from her perfectly postured position upon the throne for fear of wrinkling her court gown, but of a happy and easily delighted girl who tended as much to the needs of the villagers who looked to the castle for protection as to her beloved flowers.

As she had when looking at the portrait, Beauty felt that the princess must be a treasured friend to all who knew her. However, it was presumptuous to imagine that a royal princess would offer friendship to a woodcutter's daughter, even taking into account her improved relations with the Beast. Beauty had to smile and laugh at herself; she might be more aware of some of her faults now, but she had not been cured of her tendency to indulge in wild and fanciful daydreams!

For his part, the Beast was pleased to be able to express his affection for his sister to a person who could comprehend the strength of a bond between siblings. Fond memories of past days, however, could not ease the pain of the current situation - if anything, they made his sister's plight harder to witness, as he and Beauty completed their circuit of the garden and returned again to the spot where the golden lily stood.

Its petals were as gleaming and golden as ever, shining in the sunlight, and the velvety leaves seemed to reach towards Beauty's hands in a caress as she resumed her daily task of watering the delicate flower. He could appreciate the loveliness of the plant, the Beast thought, but he would rather see something that was to his eyes even more beautiful: his sister's face.

Beauty, newly aware of the tender relationship between the enspelled king and princess of Castle Lochlein, could perceive the slight change of the Beast's mood as he gazed at the golden lily. Her reassurance that everything would somehow be resolved well would be meaningless, she knew; so instead she again asked the Beast about the day the sorcerer had come to the castle.

"It was here that you discovered him, was it not?" she asked. "Yet was there nothing in his actions which might suggest how the spell could be broken?"

The Beast sighed, "If I had arrived even a moment earlier, there might have been. To the misfortune of everyone in the castle, I heard nothing and saw only enough to comprehend that the villain was in the very midst of his conjuring. My sole thought was for my sister's safety, not for any details of how the enchantment was accomplished."

"You must not blame yourself," Beauty quickly replied. "The sorcerer might well have caused more mischief had you not appeared when you did."

The Beast did not answer, obviously disagreeing with her assertion that he should not take the blame to himself, but unwilling to argue the point. Instead he moved to his customary position by the wall and leaned against it, arms folded, silently brooding.

Thoughtfully Beauty once again regarded the golden lily, having been struck by an idea. "You may not have heard something, but your sister must have. After all, she was the intended target of the sorcerer's magic. If we could restore her to her proper shape, we could discover if she knows how to break the spell!"

The Beast's countenance had lightened visibly as he listened. Such a simple realization, and yet he had missed it! Unfortunately, his lengthy researches in the library had yielded nothing that might counteract any of the sorcery pervading Castle Lochlein, and he reminded Beauty of this sobering fact.

She refused to be daunted. "The sorcerer whom my sister met told her of a way to break the portion of the spell responsible for Prince Cheerful's imprisonment; therefore breaking the rest must also be possible. The fairy Elegant also assured me that she would do whatever she could to help, so the situation is far from hopeless."

Another sorcerer and a fairy? This was news to the Beast, who said, "My castle has had some strange visitors, it seems. Will you tell me about them?"

"I know very little of the sorcerer," Beauty replied. "Only what my sister wrote in the note she left for me: that he is called Steadfast, and that he told her how to free Prince Cheerful. Serenity did not have time to say what must be done to accomplish that task, but it apparently required her immediate departure." She felt a sudden pang of longing for her sister - how could Serenity have gone to face unknown danger alone, and when would she return?

"And the fairy? What had she to say?"

Beauty roused herself from thoughts of Serenity to answer, "For the present, not very much more than her assurance that she would offer her aid. However, since she made the offer, she will certainly come again to tell us whether she has learned anything useful." Beauty decided that the Beast did not need to know how the fairy had discovered her in a state of sulking self-pity; however, there was something else worth adding. "It was she who gave me your letter. I imagined that she had seen you earlier and offered to deliver it."

The Beast shook his head. "No, I never saw her. As I said earlier, I never meant for you to read that letter - I burned it almost as soon as I finished writing it."

Beauty went to stand next to him. "Why?"

"I thought you despised me, especially after my...my disgraceful behavior." He was reluctant even to mention the proposal he had made, but looking down at Beauty's face he could tell by the slight blush in her cheeks that she understood him. "I had done nothing but offend and provoke you, and you had no inducement to believe a word of what I wrote. So, rather than make a doomed effort to convince you of my innocence, I cast the letter into the library fireplace."

"Then I must thank the fairy Elegant when I see her again, for bringing it to me."

Now it was the Beast's turn to ask a question. "Was it she who made you change your mind? I did not think you could be swayed in your opinion of me."

"Yes, you know enough to me to know how blindly stubborn I can be," Beauty laughed.

"I would say rather that your loyalty was overly determined."

"There is no need to be gallant and diplomatic - just as you prefer to name yourself Beast at present, so do I prefer to name my failings, the better to overcome them."

"As you please," said the Beast. "Pray continue."

"It was not only the fairy who helped me alter my very wrong suppositions about what had happened here at Castle Lochlein, although it was she who first told me about the wicked sorcerer and his magic orb. She also left me with the excellent advice that I should not always believe what I see and that I should beware of forming hasty conclusions. Then there was also a postscript in my sister's note, in which she told me that the golden lily was truly Princess Graceful - which you had claimed all along, but which I did not believe. However, it was your letter which removed my final doubts - although I did not want to acknowledge the truth in it, at last there was nothing else I could do. That led me to a recognition of how disgraceful my own behavior had been, and so I had to make my apology."

Their conversation returned to lighter topics after this, and they soon went back inside the castle: the Beast to his studies in the library, and Beauty to the glass coffin, to take up Serenity's vigil. Neither could know that their thoughts continued along similar lines even when they parted. The morning had passed rapidly, and the Beast and Beauty had found themselves taking pleasure in the other's company - a discovery equally surprising to them both, for after beginning their acquaintance in such an adversarial manner, they had not expected to share more than a polite cordiality.

In fact, the only visitors to the garden who did not enjoy themselves that morning were the crows, ravens, and magpies upon the roof, who glared down with sullen black eyes and ruffled their feathers in dismay.

Part 32

Posted on Sunday, 23 May 1999

After dinner the next evening, Beauty expressed a wish to see the portrait gallery again, so that the Beast might tell her the histories behind the images hanging on the walls. The Beast had no objection to this plan, so he commanded the waiting hands to bring additional light, and then escorted Beauty upstairs.

With torches placed in the sconces on the walls and candelabra held beside each frame by deferential hands, the color and texture of each painting was even more pronounced; surely if she laid her hand upon them, Beauty thought, she would feel velvet and satin instead of canvas and pigment. She listened with great interest to the Beast's tales of the older pictures, but her attention was occasionally distracted by the flickering shadows cast upon the walls by the dancing flames. Her own shadow looked as it always did, but was there not something strange about the darkness thrown behind the Beast? It was almost as if there was a smaller shape held within his familiar furry outline, which seemed oddly less substantial than the shadow of his large shape ought to be.

Nonsense - it was just an effect of having shadows thrown about by so many different candles and torches, that was all. Beauty scolded herself for allowing her imagination to run away with her and returned her attention to the Beast's stories.

Learning about his family removed more of Beauty's awe of the Beast; it was a comfort to know that his relations included their fair share of oddities, just as her own did. For every intimidating ancestor - for example, Sir Roderick the Just, whose wise and learned counsel had convinced the combatants in a twenty-year-long civil war to lay down their arms - there was an equally ridiculous one - for example, Lady Griselda, who had such a love of birdhouses that she eventually built a giant one to live in herself.

In return, Beauty shared tales of her own family; and although the stories sounded humble and boring to her own ears, the Beast showed great interest and prompted her to continue when she faltered. In this way he learned of Solemnity's penchant for reading large books and growing larger vegetables; of Echo's entrenched dislike of housework; and of Caprice's talent for finding trouble anywhere, and always escaping from it.

She managed to say as little as possible about her mother. Speaking about her belief in malevolent curses cast by nonexistent witches, her worries about being turned into a toad, and her never-ending quest to find husbands for her daughters might have entertained the Beast, but it was mortifying for Beauty.

No such reservations were necessary for speaking of her father, and the Beast could see in what obvious love and respect Beauty held him. She described plainly but with great affection how he went into the forest each day to cut wood. A man who was able to find satisfaction in his daily labor, completed skillfully, was admirable to the Beast; indeed, more admirable than any court lackey whose only ambition was to be granted title and lands without being required to work for them.

With this realization, the Beast felt even more ashamed for having ignorantly slandered Beauty's family while making his disastrous proposal - what justice was there in making false assumptions about people of whom he knew nothing? One's character was decided by more than the degree of one's birth, whether high or low; so much was obvious when a king could act the knave and a woodcutter's daughter could be a true lady.

As they came to the end of the gallery, the Beast unconsciously quickened his steps, for he had no desire to gaze upon his own portrait. The sight of his human features would only mock him for being trapped within the semblance of a Beast. In addition, the young man in the painting was subtly different than the man looking at it. The youth had not yet learned any manner other than pride and arrogance; the man was doing his best to overcome them and did not wish to be reminded of his past folly.

Beauty, however, was unwilling to pass the portrait by, since she had a question about it to ask. "Beast," she said as she drew near the gilded frame, "will you tell me who this man is?" She pointed to the figure in the background, offering the golden cup.

The Beast did not need to look at the canvas to know to whom she referred, so he kept his eyes turned away. "That gentleman, madam, is my cousin and dear friend, Gallant. He is also my counselor and most trusted advisor."

"He is the man whom the sorcerer's spell caused to vanish?" She recognized the name, which the Beast had mentioned in his letter.

"He is, madam. I have no inkling of what has befallen him, and I worry for him greatly."

Beauty required nothing more than the strained tone of the Beast's voice to convince her that his concern for his cousin was genuine. She listened attentively as he went on to tell her how Gallant had come to Castle Lochlein at a young age - the separation from his parents being made for his own safety, since their kingdom was at the time under attack by an army of trolls, which had threatened dire injury to the royal family. Gallant had remained even when the danger was past, however, for he proved to be a good influence on his young cousin. It was decided that he would do better to be of use at Castle Lochlein than to return home, where the best he could expect was to be bullied by his older brother.

There was more to Gallant's character than the qualities which made him loyal, wise, and deliberate enough to rise to the position of king's counselor. He was unfailingly kind to the young princess, always devising new games and surprises for her benefit. In fact, it was he who had inspired her love of butterflies, by performing a magic trick which released a bright cloud of them into the air at a party given in honor of her tenth birthday. He also attempted to balance the heavy burden of his cousin's royal responsibilities, by constantly reminding him of the importance of such simple things as friendship or joy.

"I did not attend to my cousin's lessons as well as I attended to those of my tutors," the Beast said. "Perhaps if I had learned from his example, to be less over-protective of my sister or less assured of my own superiority, the current unfortunate situation might have been prevented."

Beauty was not about to let her friend slip back into self-pity, having extricated him from its entanglement not long before. "You are blaming yourself again," she said, "and you must not." She was about to continue when she suddenly recognized her previous thought. My friend? A king and a woodcutter's daughter? Impossible.

She must not allow her fancies to run on in such an uncontrolled fashion, so she quickly changed the subject before she could think about it any more. "Your description of your cousin perfectly matches the impression that my sister and I formed when we first saw this painting. The artist was very talented, to have caught just the proper touch of mischief in his face. In fact, Serenity and I were wondering whether there was a tadpole in the goblet which he is offering to you."

The next sound to reach Beauty's ears surprised her - was the Beast laughing? It was certainly the first time she had heard him do so.

"There was not a tadpole in that goblet, madam," the Beast said. "There was a goldfish."

Now Beauty's laughter joined his, warming the atmosphere of the gallery even more than the wavering torchlight. The servants might even have been taking advantage of their invisible state to look at one another in amazement; they would have been hard-pressed to maintain an impassive demeanor if they were visible.

As the Beast watched his companion, all of his feelings of admiration returned in a rush. Since that disastrous afternoon in the garden, he had done his utmost to ignore and deny them. However, in that moment her name was only a poor description: Beauty could not begin to encompass her lovely features, her lively spirit, her light and pleasing figure, her sharp wit and intelligence, or the devotion of which her heart was capable.

The words were said before he could stop them. "Beauty, will you marry me?"

Silence instantly blanketed the hall. Even the flames on the candles seemed to hesitate for a moment. Beauty, caught off guard here as she had not been in the garden, could not form a reply. The thought that the Beast might repeat his proposal - the thought that there might have been enough real regard in the first proposal to make a repetition even remotely possible - had never occurred to her.

Of course accepting him remained unthinkable. He had demonstrated that he intended to improve his character, but who knew when he might revert to his former haughty behavior? She briefly considered that his friendliness over the past few days might only have been a pretense, designed to trick her into thinking well of him, so that a second offer of his suit would not be rejected. However, she quickly put the thought aside - having read of and witnessed his struggles, she could not believe that it was all deceit.

Refusing him the first time had been so easy, buoyed as she had been by her indignation at his rude and insensitive declarations. To do so again, however, would surely cause him pain, and this she was reluctant to do, knowing everything else he was suffering.

The Beast saw the confusion in her face and desperately wished he had remained silent. Cursing himself for a fool, he quietly said, "I beg your pardon, madam. I should not have spoken, and you need make no reply."

"How can I let such a question lie unanswered?" She lifted her eyes to his face, but was again distracted by his shadow. She almost thought it looked man-like, but surely that was because she had been looking at the king's portrait only a moment before, so that was the shape she expected to see.

"Then say yes or no without fear," the Beast said. "I have only myself to blame for any disappointment I receive from your words."

She sighed and looked away again. "No, Beast."

Beauty turned and walked away, leaving the Beast behind to contemplate his own image.

Part 33

Posted on Monday, 31 May 1999

Beauty sat bolt upright in bed - what on earth had awakened her? There it was again! What on earth could be making that horrid screeching sound? As quick as she could, she went to the window in her sitting room and flung open the curtains.

She was momentarily blinded by the change from the dimness of her chamber to the early sunlight outside. When her eyes cleared, she opened the window casement and scanned the garden for anything unusual. A third repetition of the hoarse shriek brought her gaze towards the fountain. There on one of the marble benches was seated the fairy Elegant, and with her was a brilliantly plumed peacock, who was presumably the source of the odd noises.

The fairy had noticed the window opening and called up to her. "There you are, my dear! I half believed you meant to sleep all morning! Do come downstairs - I have something important to tell you."

Beauty immediately assented and in no time at all had thrown on a gown and some shoes and stockings so that she could greet her visitor properly. Her haste made her slightly out of breath by the time she reached the garden, but she was more excited than annoyed at having been roused so suddenly. Could Elegant have news of her sister?

"Good morning, madam," Beauty said as she came near the bench. "Do you not wish to come inside? I could ask the servants to bring breakfast, if you would care for it."

"I thank you, but no," Elegant replied. "My rather loud companion gives me quite enough to handle out of doors; I would not wish to inflict him on your carpets. I cannot vouch for his behavior in his current form, although he was brought up quite nicely. The garden is by far the safest place for him."

Beauty was intrigued. "His current form? He has not always been a peacock, then?"

"Oh no, my dear - he is yet another of the princes under my charge. Really, I don't know how any of them would survive to take charge of their kingdoms without my help. This one looked into a magic mirror when a sorceress expressly forbade him to do so, and here is the result. I will restore him to his proper shape as soon as I have taken him back to my palace - however, being a peacock does not appear to distress him, so I felt he should not mind if we made a slight detour in our journey so I could speak to you."

Beauty was watching the bird and could not repress a laugh. At that moment he was spreading his rather magnificent tail and admiring his reflection in the fountain. He strutted one way, then turned and went the other, cocking his head to determine which side was more flattering; and as he postured and preened Beauty noticed the tiny golden crown set among the plumes on his head.

"Indeed, it does not bother him in the least," she said with a smile. "Now what have you to tell me? Does it concern my sister Serenity? Oh, please tell me that she is safe!" She sat down next to the fairy and looked at her with imploring eyes.

Elegant hurried to reassure her. "Your sister is perfectly well, my dear. She has completed the quest that took her away from you - quite successfully, I might add - and I am sure you will see her before too long."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Beauty exclaimed, a happy smile showing on her face. "Then she will be able to free Prince Cheerful from the crystal coffin! I knew she could not fail!" Then she sobered again. "But what of the others? The invisible servants, the birds? The king and his sister?"

"Unlocking the glass casket will take care of the first two," Elegant replied. She gave Beauty a knowing sidelong glance as she continued, "So now you do say he is the king?"

Beauty had the grace to blush, remembering her first encounter with the fairy and the changes that meeting wrought in her perceptions. "I do say he is, but he will not allow me to call him so. He insists that I refer to him as Beast."

"How interesting," the fairy said. "I must say I would not have expected that of him. Perhaps some good will come of his misfortune after all..." She trailed off and was silent a moment, looking thoughtful.

"I beg your pardon, madam?" Beauty said, perplexed.

Elegant did not explain herself but continued speaking on her previous topic. "I am sorry to say that the sorcerer Steadfast and I have not yet found a way to undo the illusion holding the king, but we believe there is a way to reverse the spell on Princess Graceful. Will you make the attempt?"

"Of course I will!" Beauty cried. "If there is anything at all I can do, tell me at once! The Beast will be so pleased to know that his sister's enchantment can be broken - he has worked so hard trying to find a counterspell, but without success."

"His efforts are certainly laudable, especially for one not trained in the magic arts." Elegant paused and gave Beauty that sidelong glance again. "You care very much about his happiness, do you not?"

Beauty was surprised by the sudden question and stammered for a moment before she could make an answer. "I...that is, he...well, of course I do. Since we reconciled our differences, he has become..." - again she hesitated - "...a very good friend."

"And it is no surprise that you would want to help a friend," the fairy said. "Now listen carefully - this is what you must do."

The fairy's explanation was not long, but she made Beauty repeat it twice to be sure that she understood every detail. She would have to travel far, and the task was not without danger, but Beauty never considered changing her decision to undertake it.

After Elegant took her leave - with the peacock, who was acting petulant for being separated from his reflection - Beauty hastened back to her room to prepare for her journey. She put on her own clothes, which would fare much better on the road than silk and satin, and enlisted the servants' help in putting together a little pack containing food and drink, a spare cloak, and a few other items she thought she might need.

However, she had to see the Beast before she left. No matter how awkwardly they had parted yesterday, she simply could not depart without a word. After all, it was his sister she meant to rescue, and he needed to know what was happening.

Beauty found him, as she expected to, in the library. He was at first surprised and somewhat self-conscious to see her again, since the memory of last evening was as fresh for him as it was for her. The momentary discomfort was forgotten as soon as he took in her altered apparel and understood what she was planning.

"...and that was what the fairy Elegant said I had to do! Just think, when I come back, the spell on your sister can be dissolved!" When she was done speaking, Beauty could see that the Beast did not share her excitement. "Why, Beast, whatever is the matter? I thought you would be happy to hear this news."

He had returned to his former silent habit of staring at the fireplace, which was empty and cold at this early hour. "Of course it makes me happy - saving my sister is my dearest wish, as you know." Or perhaps second most dear, he thought to himself.

"Then why are you so solemn? Will you not wish me luck before I go?"

"You are determined to go alone?" the Beast asked.

She thought she understood what was bothering him. "I shall manage very well on my own, and I think it is best for you to remain," Beauty said. "Your company and assistance would be most welcome, but I thought you would prefer to be here, where you could keep watch over your sister and Prince Cheerful. I would also be happier to know that my sister would not find an empty castle when she returns."

"You speak as if I were a child to be cosseted," he said, directing his remarks to the poker and tongs that hung by the mantel. "Are you so eager to be off, so that you may quickly forget those who are left behind?"

"Beast, you are sulking and such behavior does not become you." She came forward and stood next to him. "You are afraid I will not return, but you are wrong to think so. How could I desert you? And not only you, but also your sister, and the prince, and all the other good people who are trapped in the castle's enchantment."

He sighed and turned to face her at last. "Thank you, then, for taking this risk for my sister. Will you forgive me for thinking you would run away? You have had plenty of opportunities to leave before, but you did not; it was foolish of me to think you would do so now. It is just that I could not bear the thought of never seeing you again."

Beauty nearly smiled to see him look so forlorn. Would he really miss her so much? Before she thought, she took his paw between her hands and pressed a kiss to the thick black fur. "Dear Beast, you will certainly see me again! But then you will pay no attention to me, because your sister will be restored to you, and you will have not a moment to spare for me. No matter what happens, I promise I will not forget you."

"Then farewell, and may all good luck attend you on your quest, Beauty," he answered.

She left him with a final smile and made her way downstairs, eventually exiting through the main gate of the castle. How long ago it seemed that she and her sister had first stood here, wondering and afraid, before being beckoned inside by the ghostly hands. It was strange that a hand-haunted, bird-bedecked, and thoroughly ensorcelled castle could come to feel so welcoming and familiar - almost as strange as the thought that the Beast's paw had felt remarkably like a man's strong, warm hand as it rested in her own.

Part 34

Posted on Friday, 4 June 1999

Caprice was reduced to traveling on foot - again. Really, it was too annoying that there had been a loose bolt on the carriage wheel! And it was such a nice carriage, too, by far the nicest she had ever ridden in - all that golden trim and those soft velvet cushions! But then the wheel came loose, everything went crash, the horses got loose, she lost her pretty ermine muff, her dress got torn...and here she was, stuck walking along the road. The way was covered in muddy puddles, and her feet hurt. Why hadn't a prince come along by now to rescue her? If her present condition didn't qualify her as a damsel in distress, then what would?

Suddenly she thought she heard a noise from behind her - was that a horse coming along the road? Just one, from the sound. Well, if it was a horse by itself, then perhaps she might be able to catch it and ride it - even bareback would be better than walking. And if it was a horse and rider, perhaps it would be someone willing to assist her. She turned around and squinted into the distance, trying to determine where the horse was.

There - that dark blot coming towards her. The horse was trotting at a controlled pace, so it had to be carrying someone. Quickly Caprice made a few adjustments to her appearance, to be sure she looked the part of a distressed damsel: one corner of her cloak trailing in the dirt, a few tendrils of hair pulled astray, and an exaggerated limp in her step.

"Oh, sir! Sir!" she cried as the figure on horseback came nearer. "For pity's sake, please help me!"

Her plea had the desired effect as the rider approached and reined the horse to a halt. Caprice eyed him appreciatively - now here was a handsome specimen of manhood! His dark clothing was suitably dashing to be paired with a coal-black horse, but he was no dandy: his attire showed more of the hard wear that a soldier might see. This impression was further confirmed by a black helmet with a silver visor which was hanging from the back of his saddle. The pommel of a broadsword showed at his side, half-hidden by a fold of his cloak. He rode bareheaded, letting his fair hair tangle in the wind, and his eyes flashed a hard blue.

Yes - he would do very well, indeed.

"Sir! Thank you for stopping! Oh, I thought no one would ever come!" Caprice lurched towards the horse and clutched at the stirrup, conveniently giving the man a glimpse of her dramatically heaving bosom. "I was set upon by bandits...cutthroats...robbers...and they..." She ended with a shriek and tumbled away from the horse as a black shape, claws extended, plummeted out of the sky towards her face.

From her position in the ditch, when she dared to uncover her head, Caprice saw that the monstrous apparition which nearly attacked her had resolved itself into a hawk, which came to rest on the man's outstretched fist. "That was not very polite," she heard him say to it. Talking to a hawk? Well, some men were terribly devoted to their hunting animals...

When he was done scolding the bird, he turned back to Caprice, who was getting back to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster. "May I offer you my assistance, madam? Captain Etienne de Navarre, at your service."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, I'm sure," Caprice replied, fluttering her eyelashes at him. The bird made an irritated squawk but she ignored it. A captain, was he? Perhaps he worked for a prince! She could easily convince him to take her back to whatever castle he defended, where she would meet and instantly charm his royal employer. In the meantime, however, such a virile fellow would surely not object to a little...amusement?

The man lifted his arm and launched the hawk into the air again, but instead of flying off, the bird flew in circles above them, complaining loudly. Captain Navarre made no reply except for an ironic smile when Caprice coyly commented that the bird seemed rather jealous of his attention. He only pulled Caprice up to sit behind him, then set his heels to the horse so that they went cantering down the road.

Caprice wished for a long road ahead, so that she might enjoy the feel of the captain's well-muscled back under her hands as long as possible; and she was prepared to explain the necessity of the tight grasp of her arms around his waist as relief for her timely rescue. She was disappointed, then, when they came to a small village where the captain - casting a wary glance at the rapidly setting sun - decreed that he would stop for the night.

"As for yourself, madam, no doubt you will be able to find lodging at the local inn. I am sure tomorrow morning you will be able to find transportation to wherever you desire."

"I am most grateful to you for bringing me so far in safety," Caprice gushed in response. "Perhaps I could show my thanks by offering you dinner, or sharing a flask of wine? You will also be taking a room at the inn, I presume?" Again she gave him her best eyelash-flutter and an inviting smile.

He bowed with a debonair sweep of his cloak. "You will excuse me, madam - I am not inclined to join the company I would find inside...besides, I always sleep with my horse." He turned smartly on his heel and strode off to the stable, towards which the hostler had taken his mount.

Caprice harrumphed to herself in annoyance. So that's the way you want it, eh, captain? she thought. If you so enjoy the thrill of the hunt, I will certainly make you my quarry. And if I must come to you, then I have no objection to a tumble in the hay!

She was not about to forego the prospect of a bath and a hot meal, however, so it was not until several hours later that Caprice crept across the darkened yard of the inn and slowly pulled open the stable door. She had convinced the innkeeper that she would settle her account the next morning, but she intended to be long gone - preferably with Captain Navarre, in the same manner in which she had arrived - before she had to worry about paying for the bath or the meal.

"Captain? Ooh, captain!" she called quietly when she had pulled the door closed behind her. Blast it all, where had the man gone? She could hear his horse sleepily shifting position in its stall, and no doubt that infernal hawk was perched somewhere, but it was likely to be hooded for the night and should not be a bother.

The slight rustle of a footstep gave away the presence of a cloaked figure behind her. Caprice spun around, ready to welcome the captain into her enthusiastic embrace...only to be brought up short when she realized that the figure was a woman. The hood of the cloak fell back, revealing a lovely face with wide-set eyes and high cheekbones, framed by a spill of surprisingly short fair hair. Caprice's mouth fell open in disappointed surprise, and she was about to demand to know where the captain had gone, but the woman brought a finger to her lips and silenced her.

Who does this hussy think she is? Caprice fumed to herself. If she has seduced my captain before I could get to him, why I'll...

Before she could finish her thought, the woman slid to the stable door, opened it, and stepped outside. In the faint moonlight, Caprice realized that the woman's cloak looked very familiar - it was the same that Captain Navarre had been wearing! Good heavens! Had this woman murdered the captain while he slept and stolen his clothes? But what a very odd thing to do! Caprice reflected that, while she had been a thief, she had never stolen anyone's clothes...well, there was that girl with the red velvet cape and hood, and then the girl from whom she had taken the dress she was currently wearing...but that was different! She had never murdered anyone, but this deranged woman who was now walking across the inn's yard - calm as you please! - must have killed Navarre, since Caprice couldn't imagine him just handing his clothes to anyone.

On the other hand, if the woman had indeed stolen the captain's clothes but had somehow done it without killing him, then that would mean the captain had nothing to wear at the present moment...now wasn't that a delicious thought?

Caprice found herself torn between a desire to immediately seek out the captain - that is, if he was still living - or to rouse the innkeeper and alert him to the presence of a murderess among his guests - that is, if the captain was no longer living. But before she could resolve this indecision, she saw something in the yard which put all thoughts but blind terror out of her head.

A wolf! A huge, black, shaggy, monstrous, ferocious, horrible wolf had entered the yard! It was moving towards the woman wearing Navarre's cloak! Assassin she might be, but she did not deserve to be torn to pieces by a wild animal!

Caprice was just about to scream a warning when she saw an even stranger sight: the woman approached the wolf, caressed its enormous head, and then walked out of the yard with the beast loping by her side!

Right. That was quite enough for one evening. Whatever company she would find tonight, she would find inside - away from mysterious, ghostly women and their wolfish familiars! Caprice promptly marched out of the stable and back to the inn, where she was determined to find some friendly fellow to buy her a good stiff drink.

Part 35

Posted on Sunday, 27 June 1999

The sun was shining, the weather was mild, and birds perched in the nearby trees were filling the air with song. In short it was a perfect day to be traveling on the way to fulfilling a magical quest. Beauty hardly noticed, for she was too far busy wrestling with a strange sense of melancholy to pay attention to sunlight, or soft breezes, or birdsong. Could it be that she was sad to leave Castle Lochlein behind?

She did not like to leave the castle before her sister returned, that was certain. It was all very well to have the fairy Elegant's assurance that Serenity was unharmed, but Beauty would have preferred to see proof of the assertion with her own eyes. Besides, if Serenity had found the way to open the glass coffin, Beauty wanted to be present when Prince Cheerful was released. If a Prince was going to fall madly in love with her sister at first sight - or in this case, second sight - another member of her family ought to be present to make sure his intentions were honorable.

Of course, she could have waited to begin her task until after Serenity returned, since the fairy had said nothing about a need for an immediate start. It seemed wrong, however, to make Princess Graceful wear her beautiful but no less unnatural shape for one instant longer than necessary, if the only reason for the delay was Beauty's selfish wish to see her sister again. Did not the Beast wish to see his sister also?

Aiding the princess was a worthy goal, but Beauty had to admit that it was not the first thought in her mind when she decided to leave so quickly. Instead she could only think how happy the Beast would be when the princess was freed. Besides, if she could complete this quest and return victorious to Castle Lochlein, then she would prove to the Beast how much she was willing to undertake to ensure his happiness, which in turn would prove that she was truly worthy of the love he had declared.

Beauty stopped dead in her tracks. Where had that thought come from?

Impossible. Ludicrous. Preposterous! She started walking again, faster than before, as if she could leave the traitorous idea in the dust of the road behind her.

Even if she desired the Beast's admiration - which of course she did not - she had effectively destroyed any possibility that he would offer it again, hadn't she? Really, it was too ridiculous. She had heaped scorn and humiliation upon him in her first refusal, and although her second refusal was delivered with more tact, it still must have caused him pain and disappointment. Yet less than a day later she was having a change of heart? It was beyond absurd that she should suddenly hope he would make a third proposal, when after the treatment he had received it was impossible he could have any affection remaining for her at all.

Why should her thoughts of him have altered so greatly? Yes, the Beast was handsome - at least, his portrait showed that he was, and presumably reality would show the same, once the sorcerer's illusion was broken. However, looks alone could not account for her feelings, since Beauty had withstood many a handsome face before now. He was rich and powerful, but that signified nothing. Her affections could not be bought with money or treasures. He was kind and caring and considerate - or at any rate he was learning to be, while still struggling with the remains of his pride, stubbornness, and arrogance. Perhaps it was this change in his character that attracted her, foolish as it was to believe that he had changed only because of her influence.

Beauty could not name any single reason for her fledgling feelings. She only knew that her heart and her soul whispered that this man was her equal, and a man whom she could love if she only allowed it.

The thought was frightening, for Beauty had never really loved a man before. There had been friendships, crushes, and flirtations, naturally, but nothing deeper. Her definition of love required a total commitment of her heart, mind, body, and soul to another person; however, she also required the same kind of commitment in return. Love, for her, would be like stepping off a lofty precipice. If she had found the right person with whom to share that headlong plunge, their fall would transform to exhilarating flight. The wrong person might not step off with her at all, and then nothing could stop her final crash.

Worst of all, what if she allowed this first timorous hint of an emotion to develop into a true and loving regard for the Beast - which was a fantastical notion, but just possible - only to realize that he would never return her feelings? The doubt alone was enough to pull her heart back from the edge of that daunting precipice! And if she was unsure, though her feelings had never been discouraged, then how many more doubts must the Beast have, since his proposals had been twice refused?

The most he could feel towards her now would be gratitude for freeing his sister and doing what little she could to end the castle's enchantment. Receiving gratitude when one hoped for love would be like receiving a skunk cabbage when one hoped for a rose! Better to receive nothing at all.

Her only reasonable course of action would be to suppress every fond or affectionate thought about the Beast that dared to appear. She had made up her mind that it was impossible for him to love her, so therefore she would not love him. (Beauty never asked my opinion, but as an experienced storyteller I could have told her that those kinds of thoughts are not so easily controlled. Not that fairy tale characters ever listen to such excellent advice, of course...)

Beauty was concentrating so hard on the confused tangle of her feelings that she did not notice as the landscape around her gradually changed. The trees grew more numerous and more closely spaced, and their limbs touched and then interlaced over the roadway, gradually obscuring the sunlight. The road itself narrowed to a track, which soon became thickly covered in fallen leaves that muffled her footsteps. By the time she became aware of her surroundings, Beauty was in the midst of a dim, silent wood.

The quiet was unnerving - the breeze had fallen away, and no birds remained to give a friendly chirp as she passed by. Then she heard a stealthy rustling sound from the shadowed bracken at the edge of the path! Beauty hurried along, trying to outdistance whatever was causing the noise. But then the sound came again, this time up ahead from the opposite side of the road! Could there be more than one creature following her? On she went, hoping all the while that she would come to the end of the forest, but still being pursued by the mysterious noises, which soon came from every side and all around, until she was running with her heart pounding and her breath loud in her ears, but with something getting closer and closer with every step...

There, before her - could that be daylight? She was ready to sob with relief at the sight, but then a large animal bounded out of the underbrush and landed squarely before her in the center of the path. Beauty did not even have time to shriek before she heard:

"Another brave lass here I meet,
Who seems very light on her feet -
But with me to assist her,
And to tell of her sister,
She need not run on quite so fleet!"

It was the Fox! His red fur gleamed in the sunlight that was beginning to return through the forest canopy. As usual, he looked tremendously pleased with himself for having played such a trick.

"Fox, it's you!" Beauty cried. "How could you frighten me so?" She grabbed hold of the scruff of his neck but only pretended to shake him, since in truth she was happy to see her friend once more.

For his part, the Fox went along with her teasing and behaved as if he was receiving the worst scolding of his life. He ended with his entire furry length on the leaf-covered ground, looking up at Beauty with eyes that might have been mournful if they had contained less of a mischievous glint. "How was I to know you wouldn't stop? Then you began to run, and I couldn't very well be left behind, could I?"

Beauty narrowed her eyes as if she were giving the question some serious consideration. "Well, I suppose not. I would have been sorry to leave you behind, I'm sure!"

With that matter settled, the Fox picked himself up out of the leaves and assumed a precise sitting position, with the tip of his tail just barely curling around his front paws. "Now then, my dear Beauty, where are you traveling so quickly?"

"I am looking for the way to break the spell holding Princess Graceful in the form of a golden lily at Castle Lochlein," she answered.

"And how to you propose to achieve such a difficult goal?" the Fox asked. "The magic at the castle is very strong indeed, and it will not be easy to counteract."

"The fairy Elegant discovered the solution. I must find the Rosy Dragon and bring back a flask of water from the spring she guards. When that water is sprinkled over the golden lily, Princess Graceful will regain her true form."

The Fox looked alarmed. "The Rosy Dragon? Be not deceived by her pleasant-sounding name, for she is a fearsome monster! Many brave knights have faced her and failed."

"Nevertheless," Beauty said, with more courage than she felt, "I must make the attempt. Will you help me at all?"

"Of course I shall! You don't suppose a dragon is enough to frighten me, do you? Take your seat on my tail, hold tight to my fur, and I will take you to where the dragon has her lair. And as we go I will tell you what I know of your sister."

"Oh, thank you, dear Fox!" Beauty cried, embracing him. Then she seated herself on his tail, as she was instructed, and they sped away down the road.

Part 36

Posted on Sunday, 4 July 1999

The Fox ran and ran, letting the countryside flow past on either side, as if it were a river swirling around the steady rock of his passage. They traveled for a night and a day, pausing only for brief periods to refresh themselves. While they rested, the Fox told Beauty all he knew about Serenity's journey, from his meeting with her at the gates of Castle Lochlein, to her departure with the old fisherman at the ocean's edge.

If Beauty had heard the tale from anyone else, she would never have believed it. "An eagle? An ant? A fish? And they all gave her some gift in return for her kindness? How amazing! I wonder how these strange objects could be of use to her on her quest?"

However, the Fox could not answer this last question, since he knew nothing of what had befallen Serenity after she boarded the small fishing boat. Like Beauty, he was forced to rely on the fairy's assurance that all had gone well with her.

The Fox ran on for some time longer, and when they finally stopped, they were in the midst of green rolling farmland, which reminded Beauty of the fields around her home village. In the near distance, the land started to rise higher, becoming the foothills for a misty mountain range. The road upon which they traveled appeared to lead into these mountains.

"The cave in which the Rosy Dragon has her lair is within those hills," the Fox said, gesturing in that direction with his paw. "I dare not carry you closer upon my tail - it would be better to approach the dragon more cautiously."

Beauty was not opposed to this idea, since she had no experience of dragons herself and was willing to follow the Fox's advice. Unfortunately, a slower approach to the dragon's cave meant that she had more time to think about how foolish it was to be confronting a dragon at all!

Their progress along the road was abruptly halted when they came around a curve and discovered the way was blocked. The obstacle was the ugliest little man Beauty had ever seen. He could not have been more than four feet tall, his head seemed overly large for his body, his skin had a sickly yellow cast, and his black hair hung limply around his face. Added to this unfortunate conglomeration of features was an amazingly protuberant nose, which overhung his lip by at least three inches.

When he caught sight of the travelers, he immediately cried out,

"Today I brew, tomorrow I bake,
But first this toll from you I take:
You must return the way you came,
Unless you shortly guess my name!"

The Fox looked affronted. "See here, my good fellow, what do you mean by blocking the road in this manner? Let us pass at once."

The little man shook his head and solemnly intoned,

"Only those who take their chance
Can make me yield my fearsome stance;
Or else withdraw in failure's shame
Having not the wit to learn my name!"

"How he does keep harping upon that single topic!" the Fox remarked innocently to Beauty. Then returning his attention to the little man, he asked, "And how do you propose to prevent us from going by, if we do not care to make a guess? You are a rather small person - not as wide as the road, certainly! Besides that, I have claws and teeth enough to deal with you if you oppose me!"

The little man gave a horrible grimace and replied,

"Tomorrow I bake, today I brew,
A warning dire I give to you!
Challenge not this mountain troll,
Or heads from shoulders soon will roll!"

The Fox gave a snort that was eloquent with disbelief, then turned aggrieved eyes upon Beauty. "Troll? He, a troll? What we have here is nothing more than a gnome or a dwarf, suffering grandiose delusions of self-importance. Why, if he's a troll, then I'm a codfish! We need not linger here."

He began to walk forwards, ignoring the little man, whose face had gone nearly purple with suppressed rage at the insults. However, Beauty stopped the Fox by laying her hand on the soft fur at his shoulder.

"A moment, Fox, if you please. All the old tales say that travelers foolhardy enough to disregard the warnings of such odd creatures - whether dwarf or troll - have come to misfortune. Facing a dragon will be sufficient misfortune for me, I believe, and I would not care to create more by angering this fellow."

The Fox's whiskers drooped a little in disgust. "I see. Well, madam, if you must humor him, go ahead." He shot an annoyed look at the little man, who by contrast looked irritatingly smug and satisfied. "Will you hazard a guess about this interesting person's name?"

Beauty began to list every name she could think of. "Is your name John? William? Henry? George?"

"No, that is not my name," the little man replied.

"Could it be Thomas? James? Christopher? Richard?"

"No, that is not my name."

"Are you called Walter? Robert? Andrew? Geoffrey?"

"No, that is not my name."

"Might your name be Frederick? Julian? Seth? Rupert?"

"No, that is not my name."

When she had exhausted her supply of common names, Beauty tried to think of more uncommon ones. "How about Balthazar? Septimus? Willoughby? Fitzwilliam?"

Their exchange might have dragged on in this manner for hours, with Beauty questioning the little man with every name she could imagine, and the little man always giving the same answer. However, Beauty suddenly caught sight of another young woman coming along the road from the opposite direction. Since the little man never moved from his position facing Beauty and the Fox, he did not notice this other person approaching.

When the young woman came near enough to comprehend what was happening, she stopped walking, planted her hands on her hips, and shouted, "RUMPELSTILTSKIN!"

The effect on the little man was immediate. He whirled around and started berating the young woman in a nasal voice utterly unlike the impressive tones he had previously employed. "You have spoiled it! You gave it away! How dare you tell them my name?"

The young woman paid no attention to his ranting. "You've been bothering travelers again, haven't you? And after you promised me you wouldn't do it any more, too! Well, it's no use detaining this lady any longer - she knows your name now, so you must let her go by."

"Do I have to?" The little man looked sulky and stuck out his lower lip in a most unbecoming fashion.

"Yes, you have to. Now run along - you said you would check the beehives today."

The little man stomped off without a word of farewell, muttering ominously under his breath.

The young woman watched him go, then turned to Beauty with a smile. "Well, that should keep him busy for a while! Whenever he gets bored and up to his old tricks, I pack him off to take care of the bees, and that seems to content him. Would you like to come to my cottage with me, for some refreshment? It's the least I can do after my husband has been such trouble."

"Thank you, that's very kind..." Beauty's words stumbled to a halt as she could not quite believe what she had just heard. "I beg your pardon - that little man is your husband?"

"Yes, that's right," said the young woman, turning to walk back down the road. Beauty hurried to catch up, and the Fox trotted alongside.

"I don't wish to seem rude," Beauty said, "but how is it possible that you are married to such an odd creature? Is he bewitched or under some spell?"

"No, not at all!" the young woman answered. "I am the eldest daughter of a large family, and my father, being poor, had no money to give me for a dowry. I told the dear man not to worry about it, and went off into the world to seek my fortune. I had no thought of marrying a prince, or of freeing some handsome lord from a terrible enchantment - all I sought was a comfortable home and the means to earn a living. So, when I met this dwarf - his name is actually Stumpwort, by the way - and discovered that he owned a sturdy cottage and some nice farmland, I decided that I could do worse than marry him. He spends all day out in the fields, and I can sit inside with my spinning and sewing, so for the most part we get along famously."

"It sounds charming," muttered the Fox.

Beauty quickly spoke up before the Fox could say anything else. "Then why does he amuse himself by tormenting innocent travelers?"

The young woman sighed in exasperation. "One evening last winter, we were passing the time by telling stories back and forth. I told the one about Rumpelstiltskin, and he hasn't let it rest since! However, I'm sure that he will drop the whole thing soon - now that he has finally stopped asking me if I can spin straw into gold, he should also stop making people try to guess his name."

They soon arrived at the young woman's cottage, which was only a short distance down the road. Beauty and the Fox happily accepted the young woman's invitation to share her supper, and afterwards she prepared a warm bed for Beauty in the spare room. The Fox preferred to sleep outside - though Beauty made him promise not to cause any mischief, he simply couldn't resist taking a peek at the chicken coops.

Part 37

Posted on Thursday, 22 July 1999

The young woman was not able to tell Beauty and the Fox much about the Rosy Dragon. She had never seen the dragon herself, and what little she knew about it came from the many knights who came to the area with the goal of slaying the monster. (All of them believed that dragon-slaying was of paramount importance for a knight's reputation, of course.) Whether arriving on their magnificent war-horses or dragging their battered bodies away from the fearsome encounter, the knights agreed that the dragon was at least a hundred feet long, with claws like scythes and teeth like swords, with wings gigantic enough to blot out the sun. Its preferred method of dispatching its challengers was to spit fire at the unlucky fellows, although occasionally it would simply take a swipe with its long sinuous tail, allowing a knight to escape with only a few dozen broken bones.

This conversation left Beauty feeling quite discouraged. How on earth was she to conquer such a powerful monster and find her way to the magic spring inside its lair? There must be some way to accomplish the task, since she felt sure the fairy Elegant would not have sent her on a hopeless mission. The fairy had said it would be difficult - Beauty only wished it was slightly less difficult than this!

Well, sitting around worrying wasn't going to make things any easier. Beauty gathered up her courage, thanked the young woman for her hospitality, collected the Fox (who was discovered next to a hole dug halfway underneath the wire fence that surrounded the chicken run, and who innocently protested that he knew nothing about how the hole had appeared), and started on her way.

They continued in the same direction they had been traveling the day before, and the green grass of the farmlands gradually transformed itself into tumbled rocks and boulders as the road climbed into the mountains. Beauty did her best to control her fears as they approached their destination, but she did not have much success. Princess Graceful seemed very far away, and thoughts of the Beast did more to unsettle her mind than to calm it. In the end she could only console herself with the thought that perhaps it wouldn't be very large dragon after all.

Beauty's hopeful thoughts faded away as they came over a rise in the path and found before them an enormous opening in the rock face. It had to be the dragon's lair - there was nowhere else that the monster could have hidden herself. As she cautiously moved forward to take a closer look, Beauty's foot struck an object that made a metallic noise against the stones: a knight's discarded helmet, scorched black down one side.

"Fox, you must wait here for me," she said. Her voice was surprisingly steady, but her throat was dry.

The Fox moved in front of her, blocking the way to the cave's entrance. "Beauty, you don't mean you're just going to walk in there? Don't be foolish!"

"What else can I do? I have to fetch some water from the spring, and the spring must be inside the cave. Therefore, I must go in."

"I know that," the Fox said in an exasperated tone, "but didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to enter someone's home without announcing yourself first?"

Beauty let out a laugh in spite of herself. "At a time like this, you're worried about proper manners?"

The Fox gave a toothy grin and stroked his whiskers with a casual paw. "What better time to worry about manners than a time like this? Now, trust me and do as I say."

Beauty supposed that it couldn't do any harm. Looking about for something that would suit her purpose, her gaze lit on the battered helmet. She hefted it experimentally in one hand as she considered what to do with it. There, that should do the trick! She heaved the helmet at a large boulder near the mouth of the cave, which it struck with a satisfyingly loud clang. (I should inform my readers that woodcutter's daughters in general have very good throwing arms and excellent aim - it was a certainty that the helmet would hit the boulder, and that it would make nothing less than a satisfyingly-loud clang.)

There was a moment of silence after the echoes of the helmet's impact died away. Then from the depths of the cave came an ominous scraping sound, as of reptilian scales being dragged over stone. The monster appeared in the rocky opening and...

Beauty laughed. "That's it? That is the fearsome Rosy Dragon? Oh, Fox, was this all another one of your tricks? You had me so frightened!"

The creature on the stone ledge before them was an unhappily-scrawny example of the draconic species. There could be nothing remotely awe-inspiring in dull, beady black eyes, or pallid greyish skin, or spindly legs with hardly any claws to speak of. The creature partially unfurled its limp wings when it caught sight of Beauty and the Fox and gave a venomous hiss, but that was all it could do. It attempted to breathe fire at them, but all it produced when it opened its mouth was a thin stream of black smoke, which promptly gave the dragonet a coughing fit.

Beauty, who laughed even harder at this display, did not notice that the Fox was looking for cover among the tumbled stones of the valley floor. She certainly did not hear the louder scraping noise that was beginning to make itself heard, or see the larger dark shadow looming within the cave.

"Madam, if I might suggest..." the Fox said, urgently. Beauty was still laughing. "It really would be wise..." he tried again, once he had wedged himself behind a large boulder. He looked hopeful as Beauty finally moved, but it was only to seat herself on a rock and wipe away the tears of mirth that were streaming from her eyes. In frustration, he reached out and sharply nipped her hand. "Beauty, take care! Conceal yourself at once!"

The sudden pain roused her, and Beauty's fears instantly reasserted themselves as she saw the shape that now filled the cave entrance. Quickly she scrambled behind the boulder to share the Fox's hiding place, and they both cautiously peered out from its inadequate shelter.

Had they not been aware of its more lethal attributes, Beauty and the Fox would have agreed that the Rosy Dragon was quite beautiful. It was aptly named, shading from the palest pink at the end of its long snout to vibrant scarlet at the end of its wickedly pointed tail. Its scales overlaid the dramatic coloring with a pearlescent gleam, making the creature dazzling to behold. However, its needle-sharp teeth and grasping claws were exactly as vicious as the unlucky knights had described them. Lean muscles rippled under the tough, armored hide as it emerged from the confined space of the cave and spread its enormous wings - the dragon could be airborne in a moment, and nothing could hope to escape its deadly speed. Fiercely-intelligent eyes glared around the rocky valley, as it sought to discover the intruders.

"Who has dared disturb me?" the dragon screamed, its voice as harsh as a rusty hinge.

The Fox cautiously cleared his throat and slowly emerged from his rocky shelter. "Madam Dragon, I do apologize if the noise my companion and I made was at all unpleasant to your ears. The only excuse we can offer is that we were so eager to make your acquaintance, and we were unsure whether you were at home to visitors this afternoon." The Fox made a perfectly elegant bow, with both forelegs stretched out before him, and when Beauty followed him out from behind the rock, she also made her best curtsey.

The dragon gave a snort, making two ominous streams of black smoke rise from her nostrils. "I am most seriously displeased. Why, is it not known all the country round that I only receive callers between nine and eleven o'clock on the second Thursday of every month?"

"I humbly beg your pardon, madam," the Fox said, bowing again. "We are strangers to this part of the country and were grievously unaware of your schedule. Shall we call on you another time?" He turned as if to begin walking out of the valley.

The dragon considered this for a moment, with her tail lashing back and forth most impressively as she thought. "Well," the dragon said at last, in condescending tones, "you must have traveled a great distance, and as I have no pressing engagements this afternoon, there is nothing to prevent me from receiving you."

"That is terribly kind of you, madam!" the Fox exclaimed.

"Think nothing of it," the dragon replied, languidly gesturing with one of her front claws. "I usually cannot be bothered with visitors who arrive at irregular hours, but I must commend you for being more polite than the others. At least you had the courtesy to knock first! There have been many who simply came charging up the hill without so much as a by-your-leave, making the most appalling uproar with their horses and armor and shields and spears and lances, and I assure you I dealt with them very severely. I am exceedingly attentive to such matters of etiquette."

The Rosy Dragon folded her wings once more and proceeded to settle herself comfortably on the wide stone ledge before the cave entrance. Of the dragonet there was no further sign; it must have slunk back into the depths of the cave while no one was paying attention to it. After her visitors had made their introductions, the dragon spoke for a quarter of an hour on a variety of topics, ranging from the weather, to the state of the roads, to the sorry condition of the cattle herds in the surrounding area. She did her best to help exercise the lazy beasts, encouraging them into a good, healthy gallop by flying low over the meadows where they were grazing, but the local farmers were surprisingly unappreciative of her efforts. Instead of thanking her for her assistance, they actually had the impertinence to shoot flaming arrows in her direction whenever she appeared! Really, it was tremendously inconsiderate of them.

The dragon then turned her attention to Beauty, directing her to change her seat to a different rock - why, the one she had chosen faced full west, which was tremendously inconvenient at this hour of the afternoon! Did she not know it was unladylike and impolite to squint? Brushing aside Beauty's thanks, she gave her decided opinion that such a name was vastly inappropriate for a humble woodcutter's daughter and asked whether she had ever considered changing it?

The Fox quickly rejoined the conversation before Beauty lost control of her temper, complimenting the dragon for having chosen such a magnificent spot for her home. Surely there was not another dragon in all the surrounding kingdoms who possessed such an austerely-impressive domain!

The dragon looked smug - which is nearly impossible for dragons to do, but this one accomplished it easily. "Yes, I do congratulate myself on finding such a superb location. Of course, I did not come by it easily, since I had to eat the previous occupant."

Beauty was aghast, but the Fox only looked impressed. After a few more compliments, some well-placed flattery, and a contrite apology for taking up so much of a busy dragon's time, he inquired if he and Beauty might view the inside of the cave. The Rosy Dragon was hesitant to grant this request, but she finally extended the invitation after the Fox convinced her that they only wanted to view the rock formations in the front chambers - they certainly had no expectation of simply being led to the dragon's hoard of gold!

As the dragon conducted them within the cave, Beauty stifled another laugh. This was not at all what she had expected this meeting to be! Instead of a gory battle to the death with an unbeatable monster, they were simply walking into the dragon's lair as calmly as she would have walked into a neighbor's house back home. Wait until I tell Serenity about this! she thought.

The daylight penetrated only a short distance inside the cave, but there proved to be ample illumination provided by phosphorescent lichens growing on the walls. The cave was much larger inside than either Beauty or the Fox had expected, and they were both amazed by the size of the rocky chambers within the mountainside. It was just as well that the dragon herself was guiding them, since they could easily have become lost in the many twisting passageways that connected the caverns. On all sides there were fantastically shaped stalagmites and stalactites, and in the silence the steady drip of water by which they had formed could be plainly heard.

As they continued farther into the cave, however, the noise of the water changed from a drip, to a trickle, to a stream, and finally a cascade. They discovered the source of the sounds when they entered the largest room of all. In the center of this room was a natural basin, into which constantly poured a crystalline stream of water. Beauty was elated - this must be the spring that the fairy Elegant had described!

The Fox was listening politely as the dragon discussed the strategic importance of having a water supply within the cave - she could barricade the entrance against her enemies, for instance, and yet not worry about going thirsty. When she was finished, Beauty added her own comments about what a happily situated fountain it was, and how wise the dragon had been to choose such a well-provisioned cave. It was so remarkable, in fact, that Beauty could think of nothing she would like better as a souvenir of her visit than a flask of water from this very fountain - she would then have proof of the dragon's superiority of mind for anyone who cared to ask.

The Rosy Dragon found this request rather odd, but she saw no reason not to grant it. However, since this was a very unusual spring, its waters deserved to be placed an equally unusual container. Had Beauty brought anything suitable?

Feeling a slight apprehension, Beauty opened her little pack and produced the simple leather water flask she had brought with her from Castle Lochlein.

"Oh dear, no!" the dragon said in dismay. "That won't do at all! Have you nothing else? Nothing at all? What a shame..."

The Fox hurried to salvage the situation. "Perhaps, madam, you might be able to suggest where we could find something more appropriate? We would sincerely value your counsel."

"As well you should," the dragon replied. "Now, let me think...ah, I have it! I have heard that the ruler of the next kingdom west of here has among his treasures a magnificent bottle, carved from a single diamond and fitted with a golden stopper. If you can bring that when you return, I will be happy to let you take some of this water."

There was nothing now for Beauty and the Fox to do but thank the dragon for her advice and allow her to lead them back to the entrance of the cave. The dragon wished them a cordial farewell and disappeared into the shadows.

Continued In Next Section