Once Upon a Time: New Fairy Tales Paperback (43 page)

Ivan looked up, startled. It was the first compliment he ever

remembered receiving.

“Well, go on then, have some dinner,” said Professor Owl. “And

you’ll be up at dawn tomorrow?”

“I’ll be up at dawn,” said Ivan. He knew that the next day, he

would not go wandering around, at least until after the entries were finished. He did not want Blanchefleur calling him an idiot again in that tone of voice.

v

• 353 •

• Blanchefleur •

Summer turned into winter. Each day, Ivan sat at the table in the

tower, updating the entries for the Encyclopedia of All Knowledge.

One day, he realized that he no longer needed to compose the

updates on the backs of Professor Owl’s notes. He could simply

compose them in his head, and then write each update directly onto

the file. He had not learned much in school, but he was learning

now, about things that seemed useless, such as Sponge Cake, and

things that seemed useful, such as Steam Engines, Epic Poetry, and

Love. One morning he realized Professor Owl had left him not only

a series of updates, but also the notes for an entry on a star that

had been discovered by astronomers the week before. Proudly and

carefully, he took a blank file card out of the cabinet, composed a

new entry for the Encyclopedia of All Knowledge, and filed the card

in its place.

He came to write so well and so quickly that he would finish all

of the updates, and any new entries the Professor left him, by early afternoon. After a lunch of soup, for he had never managed to get

the kettle to make him anything else, however politely he asked, he

would roam around the rocky countryside. Sometimes Blanchefleur

would accompany him, and eventually she allowed him to carry

her on his shoulder without complaining, although she was never

enthusiastic. And she still called him Idiot.

One day, in February although he had lost track of the months,

he updated an entry on the Trojan War. He had no idea what it was,

since he had not been paying attention that day in school. So after

he finished his updates, he asked the Encyclopedia. It opened to

the entry on the Trojan War, which began, “It is a truth universally acknowledged that judging a beauty contest between three goddesses

causes nothing but trouble.” He read on, fascinated. After that day, he would spend several hours reading through whichever entries took

his fancy. Each entry he read left him with more questions, and he

began to wish he could stay with Professor Owl, simply reading the

entries in the Encyclopedia, forever.

But winter turned into summer, and one day the professor said,

• 354 •

• Theodora Goss •

“Ivan, it has been a year since you arrived, and the term of your

apprenticeship with me is at an end. Thank you for all of the care

and attention you have put into your task. As a reward, I will give you one of my feathers—that one right there. Pluck it out gently.
Gently
!”

Ivan held up the feather. It was long and straight, with brown and

white stripes.

“Cut the end of it with a penknife and make it into a pen,” said

Professor Owl. “If you ever want to access the Encyclopedia, just tell the pen what you would like to know, and it will write the entry for you.”

“Thank you,” said Ivan. “But couldn’t I stay—”

“Of course not,” said Blanchefleur. “My mother is expecting us. So

come on already.” And indeed, since it was dawn, Professor Owl was

already heading up the stairs, for he had very important things to do during the day. Owls do, you know.

The Castle in the Forest looked just as Ivan remembered. There were

cats tending the gardens, where the roses were once again blooming,

as though they had never stopped. Marmalade greeted them at the

door and led them to the Lady’s solar, where she was sitting at a desk, writing. Her cats-in-waiting were embroidering a tapestry, and one

was strumming a lute with her claws, playing a melody that Ivan

remembered from when he was a child.

“Well?” she said when she looked up. “How did Ivan do, my dear?”

“Well enough,” said Blanchefleur. “Are there any mouse pies?

We’ve been walking all day, and I’m hungry.”

Really it had been Ivan who had been walking all day. He had

carried Blanchefleur most of the way, except when she wanted to

drink from a puddle or play with a leaf.

“Wait until the banquet,” said the Lady. “It starts in an hour, which will give you enough time to prepare. It’s in honor of your return and departure.”

“Departure?” said Ivan.

“Yes,” said the Lady. “Tomorrow, you will go to the Southern

• 355 •

• Blanchefleur •

Marshes, to spend a year with my friend, Dame Lizard. She has a

large family, and needs help taking care of it. Blanchefleur, you will accompany your cousin.”

“But that’s not fair!” said Blanchefleur. “I’ve already spent a year with Ivan Idiot. Why do I have to spend another year with him?”

“Because he is your cousin, and he needs your help,” said the

Lady. “Now go, the both of you. I don’t think you realize quite how

dirty you both are.” And she was right. From the long journey, even

Blanchefleur’s white paws were covered with dirt.

As they walked upstairs, Ivan said, “I’m sorry you have to come

with me, Blanchefleur. I know you dislike being with me.”

“You’re not so bad,” she said grudgingly. “At least you’re warm.” So it had been her, sleeping against his back all those nights. Ivan was surprised and pleased at the thought.

That night, the banquet proceeded as it had the year before,

except this time Ivan knew what to expect. Several of the female cats asked him to dance, and this time he danced with more skill, never

once stepping on a cat paw or tail. He danced several times with

Blanchefleur, and she did not seem to dislike it as much as she had

last year. Tailcatcher, the striped cat, was there as well. Once, as they were dancing close to one another, Ivan heard a hiss, but when he

turned to look at Tailcatcher, the cat was bowing to his partner.

At the end of the evening, as he was wearily climbed the stone

stairs up to his bed, he passed a hallway and heard a murmur of

voices. At the end of the hallway stood Tailcatcher and Blanchefleur.

The striped cat spoke to her and she replied, too low for Ivan to

hear what they were saying. Then she turned and walked on down

the hallway, her tail held high, exactly the way she walked when she was displeased with him. Ivan was rather glad Tailcatcher had been

rebuffed, whatever he had wanted from her.

As he sank into sleep that night, in the curtained bed, he wondered

if she would come to curl up against his back. But he fell asleep too quickly to find out.

v

• 356 •

• Theodora Goss •

The next morning, they started for the Southern Marshes. As they

traveled south, the forest grew less dense: the trees were sparser,

more sunlight fell on the path, and soon Ivan was hot and sweating.

At midafternoon, they came to a river, and he was able to swim and

cool himself off. Blanchefleur refused to go anywhere near the water.

“I’m not a fish,” she said. “Are you quite done? We still have a long way to go.”

Ivan splashed around a bit more, then got out and dried himself

as best he could. They followed the river south until it was no longer a river but a series of creeks running through low hills covered with willows, alders, and sycamores. Around the creeks grew cattails, and where the water formed into pools, he could see water lilies starting to bloom. They were constantly crossing water, so Ivan carried

Blanchefleur, who did not like to get her feet wet.

“There,” she said finally. “That’s where we’re going.” She was

pointing at one of the low hills. At first, Ivan did not see the stone house among the trees: it blended in so well with the gray trunks.

Ivan walked through a narrow creek (he had long ago given up on

keeping his shoes dry) and up the hill to the house. He knocked at

the door.

From inside, he heard a crash, then a “Just a moment!” Then

another crash and the voice yelling, “Get out of there at once, Number Seven!”

There were more crashes and bangs, and then the door opened, so

abruptly that he stepped back, startled. He might have been startled anyway, because who should be standing in front of him but a lizard, who came almost up to his shoulders, in a long brown duster and a

feathered hat askew over one ear.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” she said. “They’ve been impossible today.

But they are dears, really they are, and the Lady told me that you were a competent nursemaid. You are competent, aren’t you?” Without

waiting for a reply, she continued, “Oh, it’s good to see you again, Blanchefleur. Did you like the shrunken head I sent you from Peru?”

“Not particularly,” said the white cat.

• 357 •

• Blanchefleur •

“Splendid!” said the lizard. “Now I’ll just be off, shall I? My

train leaves in half an hour and I don’t want to miss it. I’m going

to Timbuktu, you know. Train and then boat and train again, then

camel caravan. Doesn’t that sound fun? Do help me get my suitcases

on the bicycle.”

The bicycle was in a sort of shed. Ivan helped her tie two suitcases onto a rack with some frayed rope that he hoped would hold all the

way to the station.

“Such a handy one, your young man, my dear,” said the lizard to

Blanchefleur.

“He’s not—” said Blanchefleur.

“Kisses to you both! Ta, and I’ll see you in a year! If I survive the sands of the Sahara, of course.” And then she was off on her bicycle, down a road that ran across the hills, with her hat still askew. As she rode out of sight, Ivan heard a faint cry: “Plenty of spiders, that’s what they like! And don’t let them stay up too late!”

“Don’t let who stay up too late?” asked Ivan.

“Us!” Ivan turned around. There in the doorway stood five—no,

six—no, seven lizards that came up to his knees.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“These are her children,” said Blanchefleur. “You’re supposed

to take care of them while she’s gone. Don’t you know who she is?

She’s Emilia Lizard, the travel writer. And you’re her nursemaid.”

Blanchefleur seemed amused at the prospect.

“But the Lady said I was supposed to help,” said Ivan. “How can I

help someone who’s on her way to Timbuktu? I don’t know anything

about taking care of children—or lizards!”

“It’s easy,” said one of the lizards. “You just let us do anything we want!”

“Eat sweets,” said another.

“Stay up late,” said yet another.

“Play as long as we like,” said either one who had already spoken

or another one, it was difficult to tell because they kept weaving in and out of the group, and they all looked alike.

• 358 •

• Theodora Goss •

“Please stand still,” he said. “You’re giving me a headache. And tell me your names.”

“We don’t have names,” said one. “Mother just calls us by numbers,

but she always gets us mixed up.”

“I’ll have to give you names,” said Ivan, although he was afraid that he would get them mixed up as well. “Let’s at least go in. Blanchefleur and I are tired, and we need to rest.”

But once they stepped inside, Ivan found there was no place to

rest. All of the furniture in the parlor had been piled in a corner to make a fort.

“If I’m going to take care of you, I need to learn about you,” said

Ivan. “Let’s sit down—” But there was nowhere to sit down. And the

lizards, all seven of them, were no longer there. Some were already

inside the fort, and the others were about to besiege it.

“Come out!” he said. “Come out, all of you!” But his voice was

drowned by the din they were already making. “What in the world

am I supposed to do?” he asked Blanchefleur.

She twitched her tail, then said in a low voice, “I think it’s the Seige of Jerusalem.” Loudly and theatrically, she said, as though to Ivan,

“Yes, you’re right. The French are so much better at cleaning than

the Saracens. I bet the French would clean up this mess lickety split.”

Ivan stared at her in astonishment. Then he smiled. “You’re wrong,

Blanchefleur. The Saracens have a long tradition of cleanliness. In a cleaning contest, the Saracens would certainly win.”

“Would not!” said one of the besiegers. “Would too!” came a cry

from the fort. And then, in what seemed like a whirlwind of lizards, the fort was disassembled, the sofa and armchairs were put back

in their places, and even the cushions were fluffed. In front of Ivan stood a line of seven lizards, asking, “Who won, who won?”

“The Saracens, this time,” said Blanchefleur. “But really, you know, it’s two out of three that counts.”

Life in the Lizard household was completely different than it had

been in Professor Owl’s tower. There were days when Ivan missed the

silence and solitude, the opportunity to read and study all day long. But

• 359 •

• Blanchefleur •

he did not have much time to remember or regret. His days were spent catching insects and spiders for the lizards’ breakfast, lunch, snack, and dinner, making sure that they bathed and sunned themselves, that they napped in the afternoon and went to bed on time.

At first, it was difficult to make them pay attention. They were

as quick as seven winks, and on their outings they had a tendency

to vanish as soon as he turned his back. Ivan was always afraid he