PEONY WAS RIGHT. She leant back against a branch and watched as carriages, coaches, horse-drawn traps and single riders made their way up the hill. All the important, grand and wealthy inhabitants of the kingdom had been invited to the christening breakfast and, as invitations to the palace were few and far between, they had all accepted. On and on they came as the sun rose higher and higher. They were dressed in their finest clothes; Peony glanced down at her torn and grubby dress as the last carriage trundled towards her. “I’ll definitely have to clean up a bit if I’m going to go to the party. Hello! Those must be the Fairy Godmothers.”
The Fairy Godmothers were wearing their summery dresses, and their wings glittered in the sunshine. As they swept towards the palace the prime minister came out to greet them; Peony ducked down among the branches, although there was no way that Skeldith could see her. Cautiously peering out again, she noticed the Hag was no longer hiding in the grass. She had left a tangle of string behind her, but that was all.
“Where can she be?” Peony wondered. Scanning the drive and the gardens, she climbed even higher and looked again. From her new viewpoint she eventually spotted the Hag hiding in the tangle of roses under her bedroom window. The fairy was bending down, tying string to the rosebushes.
“That’s strange,” Peony murmured. “How did she get there without anyone noticing? Why haven’t the guards stopped her?”
“She’s a fairy, remember.” Basil was back, strolling along the branch beneath her. “She can fade into the background, so nobody can see her unless they’re looking very carefully.”
“Oh! She’s off!” Peony reported. “She’s going round the other side … and you’re right. She went straight past the guards at the front door and they didn’t notice her at all.” She shook her head in wonder.
Basil shrugged. “That’s fairies for you. Don’t you want to know what’s going on in the banqueting hall?”
“Of course I do.” Peony turned to look at him. “Has the christening started yet?”
“There’s a lot of chitter-chatter.” The cat sniffed. “Your father has a remarkably splendid throne. Your mother looked a little peevish when she saw it. All the guests have arrived, by the way. They’ve closed the doors.”
Peony leant forward. “Did you see my baby brother? Is he all right?”
“He’s being looked after by that Beef woman.” Basil sounded less than enthusiastic.
The princess sighed. “I can’t help wondering – what if the bad fairy tries to hurt him?”
The cat jumped up beside her, and put a furry paw on her hand. “We must make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Look!” Peony pointed. “She’s moving again … and she’s still holding loads of string. What IS she doing?”
“Nothing good,” Basil said. “You can be sure of—”
He was interrupted by the sound of trumpets. There was a long fanfare, a moment’s pause, and then another fanfare.
“That’ll be Father arriving in the royal banqueting hall.” Peony looked down at the palace roof. “It feels odd to think the christening’s going on without me being there.”
Basil wasn’t listening. His eyes had narrowed and he was watching the Hag with intense concentration. “She’s circling the palace,” he said. “That’s bad … very bad.”
Peony had already begun to scramble down the tree. “I have to find out what’s going on,” she said. “I absolutely can’t stay here any longer.”
The cat didn’t move. He had noticed something Peony had not: the bundles of string that the Hag was leaving behind her were beginning to glow a faint green. “Magic,” he said to himself. “Bad magic…”
Several branches below, Peony looked up. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked.
Basil was still staring. “Princess,” he said, “I think you ought to see this.” He began to hiss. Peony, hearing the urgency in his voice, swung herself back up the tree to join him – and gasped.
The Hag had made a complete circle of the building and now she was dancing up and down waving her arms. “Wooooooo!” she chanted. “Woooooooo! Wooooooooo!”
A faint green mist began to rise, a mist that quickly thickened into a dense fog that swirled and twirled until it had the look of a green hedge surrounding the palace. The fog drifted steadily closer and closer to the walls, and Peony saw first one and then another guard collapse in a snoring heap on the palace steps. The captain of the guard, who was tall enough to see over the top of the swirling green, opened his mouth to call for help, but the Hag flicked her fingers and a tendril of mist twisted round his head. His eyes closed and he sank to the ground. In another moment not one guard was left standing.
“Oh my goodness.” Peony was breathless with astonishment. “Oh my goodness gracious me!”
“Not much goodness about it,” the cat said. “That’ll gradually seep in through the doors and windows, and send them all to sleep.”
“Wooooooo! Woooooooo!” The Hag was still dancing, her voice growing shriller and shriller. “That’ll teach them to forget me! Tee hee hee hee! Sleeping twine, sleeping twine … all asleep, that baby’s mine!”
Peony was very pale. “I was right: she wants the baby! We’ve got to do something – we’ve got to save him!”
“Of course,” Basil said. “But what about the fog? You saw how quickly those guards went to sleep.”
“Mmmmm…” Peony was thinking as hard as she could. “What if I could get higher than the fog? So I don’t breathe it in?”
“Above it?” Basil considered this idea. “But how could you? You’d need to be quite remarkably tall – much taller than the guards.”
“Exactly!” Peony’s eyes were shining. “Mr Wells – he’s taller than everyone! I could ride on his shoulders and the fog wouldn’t come near me. And guess what?” She was quivering with excitement. “I’ve had another idea! The musicians’ gallery … the gallery above the hall. You can see everything from there. I used to spy on the royal feasts! And there’s a window… How long have I got before everyone’s asleep?”
“How long?” The cat blinked. “I couldn’t say … but the fog’s moving.”
He was right. The fog was clearing at the back of the palace and growing thicker and thicker at the front, as the Hag beckoned it towards her with a long bony finger. Alternately cackling and chanting, she pointed at the door. “Wooooooo! One, two, three, four, open wide the royal door!”
The huge golden door swung open and the fog began to ooze inside. “Right. Here I go,” said Peony, and she scrambled down the tree. Next minute she was running through the cherry trees towards the back of the palace and the window of the dungeon.
She hurled the rope over the empty window frame before climbing up to knot it round the centre bar. Then she called down. “Mr Wells? I need your help! I really, really do – please help me. PLEASE!”
