CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE GRETEL’S BIG BREAK

“Is it just me or does it feel like we got assigned the farthest-away kingdom?” Alistair says, dragging his feet along the road. “Hey, you know what would be a great invention?” he adds. “If there was some way to tell where swoop holes are. Like, you could just look at a map and go to one!”

“Isn’t the whole thing with swoop holes that they always change locations?” Gretel says, kicking stones with her leather boots. Normally she’d never do such a thing, but it’s been hours of walking and she’s getting so bored, she’ll risk scuffing her fabulous boots for at least a semblance of entertainment.

“Exactly,” Alistair continues. “That’s why it’d be an invention! I should totally tell Rosie about this.”

Gretel laughs. At least Alistair always has some far-flung idea to keep them entertained.

“I wish, right now in this moment, that Never After had already invented ride share apps,” Gretel says. “Although getting a car from Snow Country to Eastphalia would definitely include a surcharge.”

They’ve been walking for a few hours, and they have only a few more until the sun sets. The road they’re following is between kingdoms, meaning there are no villages in which to spend the night. Gretel is starting to panic a little. She still can’t forget what happened to them the last time they didn’t plan for a place to spend the night: a repeat of her origin story. There’s no way she’s getting stuck in a gingerbread house again!

Just then she sees something far in the distance and hears the clip-clop of hooves.

“Alistair, I think there’s a carriage coming toward us!”

Alistair squints to make it out, it’s still so far away.

The solution strikes Gretel. She remembers teenagers talking about hitchhiking in California. Her dad would totally kill her if he knew she was hitchhiking, but what’s the alternative? Sleep on the side of the road? That’s no safer! This might be the one case in history where hitchhiking is actually the safer choice.

Once she’s adequately reasoned with herself, Gretel shares the idea with Alistair. “I think we should try to hitchhike,” she says.

“What does that mean?” he replies.

“Like, we try to get them to give us a ride!”

“But wait, what if this carriage is on the ogres’ side? What if it’s someone dangerous?”

Gretel considers this. But as the carriage draws closer, she sees it’s white gilded with gold and deep purple.

“It’s much too glamorous of a carriage to belong to the ogres. But you’re right, we can’t tell them our allegiances just yet in case they aren’t on our side. We have no other choice; we need to get to Eastphalia before nightfall, and we’ll never do that on foot!”

Alistair sighs. “One of these days we’ll need to start planning our routes ahead of time.”

“Why don’t we come up with a cover story, just in case the people in there seem fishy?” Gretel tries.

“Hmm … I don’t really like to lie.” Alistair shrugs.

“Consider it acting, not lying. We’re playing a part! And if we play the part well, we get a ride to Eastphalia and won’t get captured by the ogres overnight. Sometimes you have to weigh the pros and cons, right?”

She can tell that Alistair sees her point. It’s not like they would choose to lie, but they don’t seem to have a choice.

“Okay. Fine. So what’s our story?”

“Why don’t we say we’re tradespeople on our way to Eastphalia to seek a new life? I’m a seamstress; you’re a cook. See? That’s barely even a lie.”

Alistair nods in agreement. It’s decided. Now they just have to get the attention of the carriage. It’s barreling toward them. Gretel prays that whoever is inside glances out the window.

“Look as cute and innocent as you can, and wave!” she instructs.

She and Alistair smile sweetly and jump up and down, waving. Come on! Come on, carriage! Just stop!

It drives by. Lily Licks!

But wait—it’s stopping! Gretel and Alistair look at each other in amazement as, several yards ahead, the carriage door opens and a gorgeously decked-out woman sticks her head through. She has a white wig about the size of a birdcage on her head, and her face is powdered and rosy.

“Children, what are you doing in ze cold on ze side of ze road!” she calls in a thick Eastphalian accent that sounds a lot like the way French people talk in the mortal world.

They run over to her. “We’re on our way to Eastphalia,” Gretel says, bowing, “but we’re hoping we might have the honor of riding with you, if it’s not too inconvenient.”

“We’re tradespeople looking for work in Eastphalia!” Alistair chimes in. “I’m a chef, and Gretel is a wonderful seamstress.”

Gretel gives sly dagger eyes at Alistair for saying her real name. This woman might read the Palace Inquirer!

The woman surveys the two of them. Alistair is bundled up in his Gretel-made outerwear: a sheepskin-lined suede jacket and matching woolen earmuffs. Gretel is wearing burgundy leather pants and a brown leather trench coat with a thick fur collar. She’s been really into seventies mortal fashion lately.

“You are very fashionable for being so young,” the woman says with suspicion. She looks at Gretel. “You made zese outfits?”

Gretel grins. “Yes, madam, I absolutely did.” An idea strikes her. “I would be happy to make something for you, if you would be so kind as to give us a ride!”

The woman narrows her eyes and pauses. “I am going to my holiday house in Eastphalia anyway. So long as you are very well behaved, it is no problem. Come in.”

The inside of the carriage is the most gorgeous thing Gretel has laid eyes on. It’s so glamorous! This woman is so glamorous, too. She’s wearing a beautiful gown in dark emerald green, and she looks almost like …

Wait a minute. This is the famous Eastphalian opera singer Lillet!

“Now, what were you saying about making me somezing?” Lillet says. Her eyes are half-closed and, with her heavy makeup, make her look mysterious and sophisticated.

“Absolutely, I would love to,” Gretel replies.

Now that she knows who this woman is, she’s even more eager to make her something. Lillet is a famous soprano; Gretel remembers seeing her all over Never After tabloids. She’s a royal performer, going from kingdom to kingdom to perform for the courts. If Gretel makes something for Lillet to wear, it could launch Gretel’s fashion career!

“Eastphalia is still a few hours away, ma chérie,” Lillet says. She smiles. “We have lots of time to go over outfit ideas.”

A ride to Eastphalia and a networking opportunity? Talk about a big break!