CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Laurel and Bess

aurel found herself wishing that she hadn’t ignored Bess’s common sense and simply left well enough alone. In fact, what she really wished was that they were back in the garden, doing their chores like they’d promised Mama they would. Doing chores would be way better than being here.

It was pitch dark and damp in the place the little man had brought them. Underground, she assumed, since the floor was dirt, as were the walls. She hadn’t been able to reach up far enough to touch the ceiling.

“Don’t fret,” the little tree man had said before closing the door. “You won’t be here long.”

Easy enough for him to say.

She felt around in the dark until her fingers touched the sleeve of Bess’s shirt.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she said.

“That’s okay.” Bess found Laurel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I mean, it’s not okay being here, but it’s not your fault that he tricked us with his fairy music and changed our instruments into stones.”

“If I hadn’t been so greedy with that contest business—”

“He would have just found some other way to get us here.”

“But still…”

“Still, nothing,” Bess said. “There was some kind of magic spell in that music of his. It made my head go all fuzzy and probably did the same to you.”

Laurel thought about that. She had felt all muddled for the first while, but now it was as though a fog had lifted and she felt more clearheaded than she had in hours.

“What do you think they’re going to do to us?” she asked.

“I’m trying not to think about it,” Bess said.

“I wish I’d stuck some of that garlic from the garden in my pocket. Or maybe we could make a cross.”

Bess actually laughed. The sound of it made Laurel feel better, like maybe the end of the world wasn’t quite here yet.

“You’re thinking of vampires,” Bess said.

“Well, what don’t little tree men like?”

“Who knows? Fire, probably.”

“Do you have any matches?”

“Sure. Right here in my pocket with my corncob pipe.”

Laurel sighed. “That’s okay. We haven’t got anything to burn anyway.”

Bess gave her hand another squeeze.

“We just have to be patient,” she said, “and wait for our chance.”

“And then we kick butt.”

“I know I’d like to kick something.”