The Awfully Angry Ogre (3 page)

“S
TARS AND MOONBEAMS!” THE OLD WOMAN
exclaimed. “And who might you young ladies be?” Her eyes were so sharp and gray, they sent a shiver down Tansy's spine.

But when the old woman stepped outside in her baggy flowered dress, suddenly she didn't seem so frightening anymore. After introducing herself and her friends, Tansy said, “We're searching for my two brothers. I wonder if
you've seen them.”

“They look a lot like her,” Lysandra added helpfully. “Only they're bigger and hairier.”

“One has dark hair and lots of muscles,” said Fatima. “The other is sandy haired and a bit shorter.”

“And they're on horseback,” said Elena.

The old woman ran a bony hand through long, wispy hair. “Nay. I've not seen hide nor hair of them.”

Tansy's shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

“Be they lost, my child?” the old woman asked kindly.

“I don't know,” said Tansy. “We've been searching, but we can't find them. They went hunting this morning, only we're not sure…that is, we think maybe…” Her voice trailed off. She was uncertain of whether to say more.

But the old woman didn't need to be told
what Tansy was thinking. “Stars and moonbeams!” she exclaimed again. “I suppose they be after the ogre!”

Sighing, Tansy nodded.

The old woman shook her head. “I tells them and I tells them,” she muttered, “but I be just an old woman. And they be hotheaded young fools. They won't listen to me. More's the pity, says I.”

“Excuse me, please,” Elena said politely. “But who are ‘they'? And
what
do you tell them?”

Fixing the princesses with her sharp, gray-eyed stare, the old woman pushed the cottage door open wider. “Come inside, dearies. I be just about to make tea, and then we can sit and have a chat.”

Before they went inside, Lysandra picked up a piece of broken shingle from beside the door. Winking at Tansy, she pretended to bite
into it. “Just making sure it's not made of gingerbread,” she whispered.

Tansy stifled a giggle. The old woman might look like a witch, but she seemed kindly enough. Besides, whoever heard of a witch wearing a baggy flowered dress?

The cottage was only large enough for a tiny kitchen and a cozy living room. There was nowhere to sit except for a rocking chair in the middle of a woven rug. The princesses settled on the rug, politely leaving the chair for the old woman while she put a kettle on the stove to boil.

“Eight young men in eight years,” the old woman said, joining the princesses. “All be turned to stone.” She sighed. “Such a waste.”

“Did they all stop here before they tried to fight the ogre?” Elena asked.

Rocking back and forth in her chair, the old woman nodded. “I tells them to go home.
I tells them the ogre means no harm. But not a one of 'em listens. They laughs at me. Then they rushes off.” She tapped the side of her nose. “But I be knowing things they don't know.”

“What kind of things?” asked Tansy.

The kettle whistled, and the old woman started to rise. But Elena jumped up first. “Please relax,” she said. “I'll make the tea.”

“I'll help,” offered Lysandra. They found a tin of tea in the cupboard and poured cups for everyone.

“Thank you, dearie,” said the old woman. She blew on her tea to cool it. “There be a way to face the ogre and not be turned to stone.”

Tansy's eyes widened. “How?”

“By wearing a veil.”

Fatima sipped her tea. “A veil?”

“Aye. To cover your eyes.” The old woman gazed at Fatima's filmy purple pantaloons. “I be thinking the fabric in those be good for veils.”

Fatima almost choked on her tea. “We'll keep that in mind,” she replied. “Thanks.”

As the princesses prepared to leave, Lysandra untangled her hair from the straps of the purse she always wore around her neck—a
magic
purse that never emptied of coins. She reached inside and then slipped a few gold pieces into the old woman's hand. “I hope you'll accept these coins in gratitude for your hospitality and advice.”

The old woman's eyes misted over. “Thank you, dearie, and good luck!” she exclaimed as the princesses seated themselves on Fatima's flying carpet. “If you be seeing the ogre, don't be afraid. Look with your hearts, not with your eyes.”

The princesses waved good-bye as they sailed away.

“One more thing,” the old woman called to them. “Be using your gifts!”

“What do you suppose she meant by ‘looking with our hearts' and ‘using our gifts'?” Tansy asked as the flying carpet cleared the treetops.

“I'm not sure,” said Elena.

Lysandra shuddered. “Let's hope we never need to know.”

“Where to now?” Fatima asked.

Tansy thought for a moment. “Let's fly to the woods near the ogre's camp,” she said. “We
can watch for my brothers from there. If we can't stop them, at least we can give them the old woman's advice.”

Fatima guided the carpet north again, until they could see the ogre's shack and the stone well.

Counting the statues, Tansy gasped.
“Ten!”
she cried. “We're too late!”

F
ATIMA LANDED THE FLYING CARPET NEAR THE
well, and Tansy jumped off. She raced to the statues of her brothers. As if he'd been charging the ogre the instant he changed to stone, Edward's body stretched forward, his sword held high. There was a fierce scowl on his face. James, however, knelt on the ground, his hands flung up in horror.

“I should've stopped them,” Tansy sobbed.
“It's all my fault. Poor Edward and James! How will I tell my family?”

Elena ran to Tansy and gave her a hug.

“Bats and bullfrogs!” muttered Fatima. “You didn't make your brothers go after the ogre. You weren't even sure that's what they were up to! And you
did
try to stop them.”

Lysandra's forehead wrinkled with concern. “There's got to be a way to restore them to life.”

“We could try my lotion.” Elena pulled a small blue bottle out of her pocket.

Tansy stared at the bottle. She knew that Elena's lotion was magical. A small dab could make cuts and bruises disappear. But could it turn her brothers from stone to flesh?

“Wait a second,” said Fatima. Reaching down, she ripped off the bottom halves of
her pantaloons. “Veils,” she said, dividing the filmy purple fabric into four long pieces. “Well, more like blindfolds, really. In case the ogre sees us.”

“I certainly hope that old woman knew what she was talking about,” Lysandra said as the princesses tied the fabric over their eyes.

The blindfolds made everything look fuzzy, but Tansy could see well enough to watch Elena pour out a small amount of lotion. Poor James, Tansy thought as Elena rubbed the lotion over his granite hands. He'd be so embarrassed if he knew they'd all seen him this way, kneeling and begging for his life. If the lotion worked, she wouldn't mention how scared he'd looked. “How long does it take?” Tansy asked when nothing happened right away.

Elena frowned. “It usually doesn't take
more than a few seconds.”

Fatima and Lysandra stayed silent, but Tansy could see the pity in their eyes. Staring hard at James's hands, she willed him to come to life. But a few minutes passed, and still nothing happened.

“Maybe I just didn't use enough lotion.” Elena dabbed a bit more onto James's hands.
At that exact moment, a tremendous roar split the air.

Tansy turned around, then froze in horror. So did the others. Still roaring, the ogre stood before them, spit flying from his
mouth. His features were blurred by their blindfolds, but the princesses could see that the ogre was hideously ugly. He had a huge, shaggy head with thick, slobbering lips, a sloping forehead, and extremely furry eyebrows. Covered with a coat of brown bushy hair, the ogre stood taller than a church steeple, and his legs were as big around as tree trunks.

The ogre roared again. Even though her knees were shaking, Tansy forced herself to stand up straight. “I don't suppose you speak English,” she said.

The ogre responded by roaring right in Tansy's face. He seemed awfully angry, and his breath smelled horrible—worse than cooked cabbage and onion.

“I think that's a no,” Lysandra whispered.

Suddenly the ogre stopped roaring.
Staring at the princesses, he scratched his head, looking confused.

“He's probably wondering why we haven't turned to stone,” said Fatima. “I think these blindfolds are working.”

“Hooray for that,” said Lysandra. “Now he'll probably just
eat
us.”

The ogre began to whimper.

“I wish I knew what he was trying to say,” Elena whispered.

“My flute!” Tansy exclaimed, pulling it out of her pocket. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before. Maybe
that's
what the old woman had meant when she said they should use their gifts. Though her flute had worked its magic on humans many times, could it reveal the thoughts of an ogre in a language the princesses could understand? After all, Elena's gift—her magic
lotion—hadn't helped. Still, anything was worth a try. Being careful to keep her blindfold in place, Tansy brought her flute to her lips and began to play.