CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
PUB MEAL
“They can’t have gotten very far,” Filomena says, dusting herself off and getting up. She holds out a hand to help Jack to his feet.
He takes it gratefully. “Hopefully not.”
“It’s so strange,” says Filomena. “All my life I thought my parents were exaggerating about child-snatchers and fairy abductions, but here we are and two of our friends have actually been snatched.”
“We’ll get Alistair and Gretel back.”
“We have to,” says Filomena. “Why did the trolls take them, anyway? Trolls don’t eat … um … people, do they?”
“No, trolls are mostly vegetarian.”
“More like carbo-terian,” says Filomena, remembering their penchant for buttered noodles. “By the way, I keep meaning to tell you they’re not all named Alfredo. It’s a joke I made up for myself. I call them Fettucine Alfredos because that’s all they eat. Noodles with butter and cream.”
“Pretty much the troll diet,” says Jack.
“Who knew?” she asks with a wan smile, which he returns. “So do you think they were sent to the school to, uh, keep an eye on me or something?”
“Yeah,” says Jack. “Someone knew you were there and who you really are.”
“But who am I?” asks Filomena. “Even I don’t know.”
“You’re marked by Carabosse. You must be someone important,” says Jack, without looking her in the eye.
“Nah, I’m nobody,” says Filomena, wishing Jack wouldn’t make such a sour face every time he says the evil fairy’s name. Except, Zera swore her sister wasn’t evil. Filomena doesn’t know what to believe.
“We’re all nobody and somebody,” says Jack.
“Okay, fine, but what do you think they want with Gretel and Alistair?”
“Mmm,” replies Jack with a shrug as he mulls over the question.
“I guess her dad is rich,” says Filomena. “He could pay a ransom, maybe?”
“Come on,” says Jack. “Let’s find out if anyone’s seen them.”
They stop the first creature they encounter with a polite “Excuse me? Mr. Gruff?”
The harried billy goat stops and turns to Jack. “Yes?”
This is the biggest of the billy goats, Filomena realizes, almost as big as a horse. He’s the famous billy goat who tossed the troll off the bridge.
“Have you seen a band of trolls leaving the bridge dragging two large bundles?”
“Trolls?” asks the billy goat. “Hmm. I haven’t seen a troll on the bridge since … well, you know.”
“They’re small trolls. Dwarfish,” adds Filomena.
“Oh! Them I might have seen. They went that way,” the goat says, pointing his hoof in the direction of the woods.
Jack and Filomena shout their thanks and run to where the goat pointed. Jack kneels down in the dirt and inspects the tracks. “They went this way, all right.”
But the tracks end near the river, and there are no tracks on the other side. Jack and Filomena question every creature they encounter, and look under every rock, inspect every ditch, and scour every treetop, but there’s no sign of their friends.
As darkness settles over the kingdom, Jack suggests they stop at a nearby village pub to get a bite to eat and to rest for the night. There’s no use looking for Alistair and Gretel in the dark. Unlike in her world, he explains, no decent business is conducted here once the sun has gone down, and they’re sure to be robbed or attacked on the road. While Never After is imbued with magic, it doesn’t have the one thing that makes the night safe in the mortal world: electricity.
Filomena is grateful. As worried as she is about their friends, her stomach is growling, and she’d like to lie down.
They make their way through the crowded, noisy establishment and find two seats at a long, empty table.
A ghoul with sockets for eyes floats over, an apron around its midriff. “Welcome to Dine, Drink, and Die,” the specter says lifelessly. “What can we get for you this fine evening?”
“Two large bowls of Something Stew. And two mugs of Riotous Root Beer, good sir. And two rooms at the inn, if you’ve got them.”
“Excellent,” mourns the ghoul, who disappears.
Filomena turns to Jack. “Something Stew? Do you even know what’s in it?”
“No one does. That’s part of what makes it so appetizing.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding skeptical. But then, anything’s better than the vegan bologna sandwiches from the school cafeteria.
The ghoul eventually returns, first with their drinks and then with their bowls of stew.
“Now, that’s a good spirit,” Jack says, flipping the ghoul a gold coin from his pocket.
The stew, as Jack promised, is delicious. While it isn’t Zera’s bountiful feast, there’s something to be said for eating a mystery meal. Filomena tries to place the ingredients—bone broth for sure, and a variety of vegetables, spices, and … tulips? She can’t quite put a finger on it, but she eats everything.
“We’ve got to find them,” she says after wiping her mouth.
“We will, we will,” Jack reassures her. “They can’t have gotten too far. It’s dark now. They’ve had to stop and camp as well.”
“Okay. But shouldn’t we ask if anyone here has seen them?”
Jack sighs, then sets down his spoon and leaps atop the bench. “Oi! Has anyone seen a bunch of trolls wandering around here? Dragging two person-shaped bundles?”
“And a suitcase!” Filomena adds.
Some pub patrons shake their heads and mutter to themselves, while others ignore Jack completely.
“Hmm … living or dead?” asks a serving ghoul.
“Living!” cries Filomena.
“Can’t say we have,” the ghoul responds, wiping a table down. “Sorry, lads.”
Jack shrugs, sits back down, and finishes eating. “They’re not going to tell us anything—they’re too scared of the ogres around here. And everyone knows the trolls work for the ogres.”
“Oh,” says Filomena as they head upstairs to turn in for the night. They have two rooms across the hall from each other.
She hopes Alistair and Gretel are okay. This is all her fault. The trolls were after her, and now her friends are paying for it. She’s never felt so helpless and frustrated.
Inside her spare but clean room, she looks out the window and up at a lone star in the sky, wishing her heart were as full as her belly.