Once Upon A Marigold Pdf Free Download
In one case Upon a Marigold
Jean Ferris
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Harcourt, Inc.
San Diego New York London
* * *
Copyright © 2002 by Jean Ferris>
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Ferris, Jean.
Once upon a Marigold/Jean Ferris.
p. cm.
Summary: A fellow with a mysterious past and a
penchant for inventing things leaves the troll who raised
him, meets an unhappy princess he has loved from afar,
and discovers a plot confronting her and her male parent.
[1. Fairy tales. 2. Princesses—Fiction. three. Kings,
queens, rulers, etc.—Fiction. 4. Family life—Fiction.
5. Trolls—Fiction. 6. Humorous stories.] I. Title.
PZ8.F387On 2002
[Fic]—dc21 2002000311
ISBN 0-15-216791-9
Text set in Berling
Designed by Lydia D'moch
G H
Printed in the United states of America
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For A. G. F., my prince charming
Function 1
ane
Edric knew he should caput for home. It would be dark soon, and even though he was as familiar with his function of the forest every bit he was with the dorsum and the forepart of his paw, in that location were dangers when the lights went out—wild animals, evil spirits, big glowing eyes attached to who-knew-what, stuff like that. But Beelzebub and Hecate were having such a skilful fourth dimension sniffing under every bush and barking all the grouse out from their hiding places that Ed was reluctant to spoil their fun. Also, he'd been having a very adieu of gathering.
Some days there was nothing; nobody passing through the forest dropped a thing. Simply today he'd establish a ring with a large shiny pink rock, a collapsible telescope, a book of Greek myths, an virtually-new leather jerkin, and a flask half full (he knew there were some people who would take said half empty) of a quite palatable wine—rather frisky, with some floral notes and a nice, lingering, jaunty sort of terminate. Information technology had been a very good solar day indeed.
He heard the dogs yapping their heads off up ahead. Not an encouraging sign. He could tell Bub was working himself into a state, trying to act as fierce as he looked, and Cate was overemoting, every bit usual. Whatever they were barking at must accept gone straight up a tree, taken off for parts unknown, or had a coronary.
"Hey, you guys!" Ed yelled. "Cut that out!" He came through the trees and saw the two dogs—big shaggy Beelzebub and petite well-clean-cut Hecate—in front end of a dodder of bushes, carrying on equally if they didn't have a brain in either of their heads.
"Hey!" he yelled again. "End that!"
Abruptly they stopped barking. But both noses were pointed at the bushes, both tails out straight and quivering.
"What'due south in in that location?" Ed asked nervously. The calorie-free was fading through the trees, casting long shadows that wavered and fooled the eye into thinking threatening things lurked in the gloom. Or perchance the shadows weren't fooling at all.
"Come on," Edric said in a low voice. "Let'southward become habitation."
The dogs didn't move.
"Would you mind to me?" he pleaded, peering anxiously around as the lite grew dimmer. If simply he'd idea to bring along some squirrel knuckles, their favorite treat, he could take lured them away easily.
He wasn't supposed to be snaring squirrels, of course, since these were King Swithbert's woods, or possibly Rex Beaufort's—it was hard to tell where the boundaries between the ii kingdoms lay—but who was going to miss a few squirrels when in that location were then many? Well, the other squirrels, possibly, but he didn't let himself think about that. Hayes Centaur, King Swithbert's gamekeeper, was conscientious (different Rex Beaufort's more laid-dorsum Claypool Sasquatch) and would love cipher better than to catch Edric poaching a squirrel, simply even he couldn't keep count of all the squirrels, or tell which were Swithbert'south and which were Beaufort's.
Ed pushed his way between the dogs, who were quivering so difficult that they sent up a faint hum. He extended the collapsible telescope and poked it gingerly into the bushes. "Hello?" he said tentatively.
"Howdy," came a small vocalisation.
Edric and the dogs jumped in unison.
"Who's in there?" Ed demanded gruffly, hoping he sounded seven feet alpine instead of his actual three anxiety, 4 inches.
"Me," came the minor vocalization. And a handsome piddling boy with big brown eyes and tousled brown pilus—a few leaves clinging haphazardly to it—stuck his head out of the bushes. "Will those dogs eat me?" he asked solemnly.
Edric was so relieved, his knees went weak. "Naw," he said. "This one"—he put his hand on Beelzebub's shaggy neck and felt the dog's shivers of terror—"is a coward who hides behind his large bark. And this one"—he scratched Hecate's ears—"is a show-off who simply wants to be the centre of attending." Cate wagged her plumy tail vigorously and grinned.
"Who are y'all?" the boy asked, crawling further out of the bushes.
"Edric's my name. Simply mostly I'1000 called Ed. And who are you lot?"
"Christian," the boy said. "I'm half-dozen."
"Well, come out of in that location, Christian, and tell me what you're doing here."
Christian crawled all the manner out from the bushes and stood up. "I'm almost equally big as you," he said, surprised.
Ed pulled himself to his total height. "I'thou tall for a troll," he said defensively.
"I've never met a troll before," Christian said.
Ed stuck out his hand and shook Christian'south. "At present you have. And what about you?"
"I'm a boy," Christian said seriously. "Tin't you tell?"
"Well, sure. I know you're a boy. What I want to know is, where are your folks? It's most dark out hither."
"I don't know where they are now. They looked for me for a long time, only their voices got farther and farther away until I couldn't hear them at all."
"You lot mean you were hiding from them?" Ed asked. "Why?"
"I don't desire to live with them anymore. Information technology's too hard."
"So yous thought you'd live in the wood? Practise you have any idea how hard that would exist for somebody wearing a ... a ... What is that? A velvet suit?"
"What should I wearable instead?"
"What I mean is, somebody like yous doesn't know annihilation well-nigh living in a forest. That cup of tea is definitely not down your alley, if you know what I mean. What would you do for shelter? Food? Heat? Protection?"
"I was going to live in that bush." Christian gestured. "It has berries on it."
Ed rolled his eyes. "I tin see I'1000 beating my head against a expressionless horse. In that location are berries now because it'southward summertime. There won't exist any in a few more weeks." He considered for about one-half a second and then said, "You'd improve come home with me. I can take yous dorsum to your folks in the morn."
Christian's lower lip came out. "I'll become with you now, but I won't become habitation in the morning time. I don't even know where habitation is."
Ed put his hand on Christian'southward shoulder. "Let's get out of hither. It'll be pitch-night in a few minutes, and I don't desire to run across whatever more surprises. We tin finish this conversation once we're within. Come on, Bub. Get going, Cate. Let'due south get this bear witness on the brawl."
Cate scampered ahead, throwing herself into her performance as a courageous guide domestic dog. Bub, sticking shut to Ed, could feel a sick headache coming on—he always got one after he'd had to be brave—and he could hardly wait to bomb downward in front of the burn and pull himself together.
"What'due south that shiny blue stuff upwards there?" Christian asked afterwards they'd wound along narrow rutted paths for a while, doing their bests not to run into whatever copse, fall in any streams, or become supper for anything else wandering around out there.
"Where?" Ed asked. "Oh, yeah. Not bad! That'southward the cave. We're about dwelling." The dogs ran ahead and disappeared into the shadows.
"You live in a cave?" Christian asked. "Why is information technology blue?"
"Information technology'south blue, and red, and green, and pink, and royal, and yellowish, also," Ed said. "It's a big cavern with lots of rooms, and in each room the walls and ceilings are studded with a different kind of crystal. I don't know how, just they glow in the dark. Kind of pretty, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Christian breathed equally they approached. "It looks like magic."
"Well, maybe it is. I don't know of another cave similar information technology. When I discovered it, the archway was all blocked by rocks and clay. I was ill of being a nomad and knew I'd finally found my home. Trolls have to spend at least one hundred years of their lives in a cave; did you know that? It's a tradition. I've been hither, oh, must exist one hundred and seventeen years now."
In the large yellow-crystal room that Ed used for his master parlor, he congenital up the fire, stumbling repeatedly over Bub, who was laid out in front of it like a hearth rug, breathing deeply in relief at being safe at home.
For supper there was leftover raccoon ragout, seasoned with wild garlic, onion, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. There were acorn-meal biscuits and new strawberries and the vino Ed had plant that day. When it was all gone, Ed let out a satisfied burp.
Christian imitated him and giggled. "If I did that at home, I'd be sent to my room," he said. "Really, I'd be dragged off to my room, probably by my ear."
A bit drastic for a burp, Ed idea, merely perchance he'd lived in a cave for and so long he'd lost whatever social graces he might one time take had.
"And you can forget well-nigh taking me back there," Christian went on. "I'm tired of being told what to practise, and of being too clean, and of not being able to make a mess. Inventing is messy, and that'due south what I like to do. My parents will be glad I'chiliad gone."
"I thought they searched for you all afternoon."
"Oh, they'll forget about me pretty soon. They accept lots of other kids," Christian said. "Male parent never listens to me. And Mother simply cares well-nigh how clean I am—and I'k never clean enough. The rest of the time she just wants to play bezique and piquet with her lady friends."
Ed could see in that location was no bespeak in arguing with this kid. He figured he could manage to put upwardly with the little squirt for i night and and so he'd rail down the parents and paw him over. "Come on," he said. "It's late. Yous tin wear this for a nightshirt." He handed the male child a shirt of sparse cambric that he had found beside a pond. Well, he had to admit he could see the possessor of the shirt splashing in the swimming, simply he'd left him his boots and his breeches, hadn't he? What else did a torso need to become dwelling in on a warm summer day?
Ed made a bed for Christian out of furs in the dark-blue-crystal room. Sleeping in at that place was like sleeping up in the night sky with the glitter of stardust all around you. The niggling boy looked quite happy bedded downwardly in the furs, the sleeves of his nightshirt rolled upward four and a half times. Equally soon as he put his head down, both dogs came padding in to flop on either side of him.
With an arm around each furry neck, he murmured sleepily, "Yous can throw that stupid velvet suit away. I'm never wearing it again." Then his eyes closed, and three sets of soft snores rose to the shining ceiling.
"Who does he call back he is?" Ed muttered, picking up the trail of discarded wear as he went back to the burn in the yellow-crystal room. "Imperious little son of a gun, acting like some big cheese in a pocket-size pond, expecting me to pick up after him like I was his servant."
He dropped the clothing in front of the fire and sat on the picnic rug he'd found years before, way over on King Beaufort's side of the woods. Information technology was a picnic that had been interrupted suddenly; he could tell that much from the scattered plates and utensils and food. Non that there was much nutrient left. Whatsoever brute had come upon the picnickers had enjoyed the meal more than they had. Simply Ed had enjoyed the kitchenware, the hamper, the big napkins embroidered with the letter B, and the carpet, all of which he'd hauled dwelling.
He shook out each small detail of clothing and dusted it off. As he folded the velvet shorts, he heard a faint tinkle. In the pocket he institute a gold chain with a gold charm hanging from it. The charm was in the shape of a bird different any Ed had ever seen in the forest, though that certainly didn't mean it didn't exist. The globe was total of fantastical creatures. The bird seemed to be function pheasant and part eagle.
Ed returned the concatenation to the pocket. Under other circumstances he would have added it to his collection, but he had a feeling the child'south parents would discover if it was missing. Then he wrapped the stack of clothing in one of the large picnic napkins, stashed the parcel in the hamper, and settled down with his briar pipe and the book of Greek myths. Nothing like a picayune fratricide, patricide, matricide, and infanticide to send a fellow correct off to slumber.
two
In the morning time Christian folded his arms across his sturdy chest and said, "I'm not going out there with yous. I told you I didn't want to be plant."
"Oh, requite me a break," Ed said, annoyed. The last thing he needed was a picayune male child, for pete'south sake. "What can be so bad near going home?"
"I told you. There're too many stupid rules. You tin can't talk unless somebody asks you lot a question, even if you lot take something really proficient to say, and you tin't hitting your brother even if he's done something mean, and you have to have all those ho-hum lessons, and—"
"But those are normal rules parents are supposed to have," Ed interrupted. "Mine did, and I..." He about said, "...and I never ran away." Only he had. Every one of his eight brothers had, as well. It was a troll tradition. "Well, anyway, if I permit y'all stay here, I'd feel similar a kidnapper or something."
Christian stuck out his lower lip and said, "If you tell anybody where I am, I'll tell them you did kidnap me. And that you were going to ask for a whole lot of coin to give me back, and that fifty-fifty after you got the coin, you were still going to torture me and so kill me. How practise you recollect my parents would similar that?"
Beads of sweat popped out on Ed's forehead. Why, the kid was a scoundrel. A con human being. A rascal and a rogue. And in that location wasn't a thing Ed could do about information technology. He did know what those parents would retrieve. And what they would probably practice to him. Who would believe the truth coming from him, a mere forest troll, compared to a large lie coming from an adorable child with the eye of a weasel?
"Jeez," he said. "You're a menace."
"Only when I have to be," Christian said with an unhappy piddling tremble in his voice, and went to lie in front of the fire with Cate and Bub.
And equally much every bit Ed wanted to turn him over his knee and give him a good spanking, he couldn't help noticing how relieved the boy looked to exist piled upwards with the undemanding, comforting dogs.
Christian stayed there almost all twenty-four hours, dozing or playing with the dogs, not request for anything, just maxim "Thanks" very politely when Ed brought him something to eat.
"I've got to go out for a while," Ed said. At Christian's ferocious look, he added, "And I'm not telling anybody anything, so quit giving me that blackness eye."
Outside, the forest was unusually still, as if all the creatures in it, fifty-fifty the fiercest, ugliest, most burn-breathing ones, were holding their breaths. Even the leaves hung motionless in the dusty gilt sunlight. Ed stood nonetheless himself and listened. Far off he heard the yodel of hunting horns and the baying of bloodhounds, and he understood why the forest creatures were lying low. Nobody likes to be hunted downwards.
Only maybe the horns and the dogs weren't hunting animals. Maybe they were aft
er a trivial boy. Ed set out through the trees, following the sounds—merely they just kept getting farther and farther away. And with them went his chance to unload the picayune rapscallion.
What had possessed him to bring the kid dwelling with him? If he'd left him in the bushes, his parents would doubtless have found him by now. Every bit the sounds finally faded completely away and darkness began to settle around him, Ed sighed and turned toward home. Oh well. He'd buttered his breadstuff, and now he had to lie in it.
CHRISTIAN WAS WAITING by the fire, one arm clutched tightly around each canis familiaris, his optics broad.
Ed flung his jacket onto a chair. "They were out in that location, looking for yous, but they're gone now."
The dogs went tearing out of the cave. They'd felt some instinctive protectiveness toward the boy and wouldn't have left him alone. Simply now that Ed was abode, they were way overdue for a run.
"Will they come back?" Christian asked.
"The dogs? Of course. They alive here."
"Not them. The people looking."
"How should I know? How bad do they want you?"
"Maybe not very much. They don't like my ideas."
"Ideas? What kind of ideas can a little kid have?" Ed asked. "For pete's sake."
"I have ideas," Christian said indignantly, coming over to Ed, tripping on the muddied tail of the big cambric shirt he still wore.
"Tell me one," Ed said. He needed some ideas himself. Similar, what the heck was he going to do with a child?
"I retrieve people shouldn't have children unless they really want them," Christian said.
Well, Ed agreed with that idea. He definitely didn't want a child. "What else?" Ed asked grumpily.
"I think people should be nice to each other and share what they accept with people who need things."
Ed swallowed hard. He couldn't exactly disagree with that, but he was getting the uneasy feeling that he was being manipulated. "Huh," he grunted.
"I think everybody should have six hugs a twenty-four hour period," Christian went on.
"Well, that's hogwash," Ed said. "I can't remember the last time anybody hugged me, and I'm doing fine."
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