CH. 43.4 — Janine entered Fritter’s room, feeling as if she were trespassing. Fritter was a very private gnome. The small bed was neatly made. The walls were covered in shelving crowded with boxes, bags, books, and jars. Glowing transparent balls near the ceiling lit the room with a cozy light.
Janine opened Fritter’s satchel and took out the contents one by one. She came to the small bottle that read, “__ART REMOV__.” She frowned. Fart remover? The air in the caves had begun to stink after Zelda had left. Maybe this would help.
She opened the bottle and waved it around. A thick green gas floated from the bottle. The resulting stench was even worse than before. Janine began to cough. Her eyes stung. She set the bottle down on the desk and wiped her face with her apron, trying to breathe. “Well, that was a mistake.”
When she had recovered, Janine saw a book on the desk. She searched through the pages, all written in Fritter’s precise penmanship.
Fritter had recorded a vast number of experiments and the resulting correct recipes for everything from curing boils and poison ivy rash to the all-purpose Miracle Mix. He had spent a lot of time looking for a cure for warts. Her heart warmed.
The gnome also had spent a lot of time on dragon maladies. From the comments in the margins, she realized that Fritter wasn’t just an indentured servant, sent here by an angry king. Fritter cared deeply about Jay’s happiness.
The gnome had collected a lot of recipes for warding off bandersnatches, toves, and raths — some of which he’d discussed with her.
At last she came to a recipe given to Fritter by a gnome named O. Henry, who had been born over two hundred years ago. “Salt Spell: Freezes the victims into statues of salt. Made from dried troll sweat and salt crystals. Effective on all living things. Not easily counteracted.”
Janine read through the antidote. The ingredients were fairly straightforward, and they had them in the caves – except for one. Dragon’s tears.
Janine and Mr. Dumfries searched through all the cupboards and store rooms, but there were no dragon tears stashed anywhere.
“If only I’d known. Jay used to cry buckets of tears. We just mopped them up and hung the towels out to dry.” Janine groaned.
“Now, don’t fret. Something will come to us.” Mr. Dumfries began to roll out the crust for the strawberry tarts. “My old Ma used to say that you always think better on a full stomach.”
Janine sat down on a chair and hung her head. Unless something changed soon, they were doomed. What could an enchanted cat, an elderly man, and a young girl do to save a whole kingdom?
Carol Nicolas 