'They're nice people,' she said firmly. 'I've done a lot of business with them over the years. I'd love to bear what has been happening to her. Go ahead and let me see her diary. Sit down. Would you like a whisky?'
Ayerish whisky was the best in the dimensions. I accepted a 'wee, small' portion that filled a glass large enough to drown in, and opened up my scroll.
By the end of the tale, Elliora was weeping into her own whisky. I waited until she had dried her tears with a beautifully embroidered handkerchief.
'Well, if there is a thing in this world that I can do for her, you have but to ask mc. Go on, then, ask!'
I launched into my speech about helping her to restore the kingdom to its former prosperity, and how although her people loved her, she had no real means of pulling the place out of debt or advertising to the rest of the dimensions that Foxe-Swampburg was once again open for business.
'And you want to force this nasty, rotten prime minister out of the picture by overwhelming him with debt that can only be satisfied by restoring the rightful princess to the throne?' Her green eyes twinkled. 'You're a wicked, awful boy. What else'?'
I pressed on, encouraged that when I mentioned further loans or grants, she nodded enthusiastically. When I got to the part about offering a Cake ceremony in exchange for Elliora's consideration, she bounded out of her chair and danced around the room.
'What a wonderful idea it is!' she declared. 'That's a fine exchange for my time.'
'Great''' I said. 'So can I tell Hermalaya you want to meet her?'
'Oh, yes, and do all the fancy bibs and bobs that she does with her Cake. I've heard a lot about that in the past weeks—as you know.' The eyes twinkled again. I had to shake myself not to fall into the
Leprechaun's spell. 'There's only one thing I would ask you in return, my lovely lad. I want to have my Cake ceremony done in the castle. In the throne room, if you don't mind. I've lent a lot of money to the royal house of Foxe-Swampburg over the last few years, but I've never been there. I want to see the place. I've heard it's a fine old building. It would please my sense of humor if the throne itself could be included in the ritual of Musical Chairs, but I'll live without that if the princess balks, of course.'
I gulped 'Uh, did you hear the part where she was condemned to death, and going back would mean her life is forfeit?'
Elliora frowned at me. I could see the steel that had allowed her to become a powerhouse even among other financial advisors in Aver, 'And did I hear the part from you that with my help you can get the vile usurper out of the castle and her back in her rightful place?' She stood up 'When you can do what I want, then we'll do what you want How about that tor an idea?'
I couldn't argue with that. 'We would have to sneak in. but I bet I can figure out some way,'' I said. 'Let me check with Hermalaya.'
'Good lad,' she said, clapping her hands. 'I'll wait to hear from you.'
I hopped back to Possiltum, elated and worried at the same time. Elliora and I discussed how much paper she held on Foxe-Swampburg. Some of it had been incurred since Matfany had taken over. I had a list of the sums involved, and they were astronomical.
'We really have him now,' I finished, gleefully.
'Attaboy, Skeeve,' Massha cheered. 'I knew Aahz couldn't keep us down forever. That Matfany is as good as exiled.'
'Hear, hear,' Chumley added, holding his cup of tea on high.
'Likewise,' said Nunzio. Hermalaya sighed.
'It's okay,' I said to her. 'Once we get the visitors coming back, you won't need him anymore. You can find a better prime minister.'
'I guess so,' Hermalaya said, but she looked unhappy with the prospect. I was puzzled.
I looked at her. The Swamp Vixen princess kept her gaze down, playing over and over with her Cake server. 'What's the matter?'
She lifted large, woeful eyes to me.
'Well, Mister Skeeve, I appreciate everything that you have been doing. It just seems as if in order to make me sound more vulnerable to our kindly patrons, you are well and truly blackening Matfany's name. You make him sound like he is a terrible man, and he's not! I really do like him.'
'You do?' I asked, surprised. 'After all that he did to you?'
'I do,' she replied.
'How much?' Massha asked, immediately.
'Well, you know, he's honest, and hardworking, and even a little funny, and he's generous when he isn't being so worried. He's ... well, he's the kind of guy I might have wanted to marry one day.' She gave a fetching little sigh.
'He's the kind of guy, or he IS the guy?' Massha asked, bobbing over to her on the air. Hermalaya dropped her eyes modestly.
'He is.'
'Well, well, well,' Massha said, beaming. 'Can commoners marry royalty in your country, honey?'
'There are some precedents. About three generations back my great-grandfather married a seamstress who beguiled him. He became the best-dressed monarch in all Foxe-Swampburg history. And there was a great- aunt about nine generations ago, too.'
'Sounds like you've been looking into it.'
Hermalaya's little white nose turned pink. 'Just out of curiosity, Miss Massha, nothing else.'
'It's good to know, though, just in case?'
I was shocked. 'How can you even THINK of fraternizing with the enemy!'
'Matfany's not the enemy ...' Hermalaya began. 'Well. I guess maybe he is, but he isn't really.'
'Matfany is the one who threw you off the throne, Miss Hermalaya,' Nunzio said.
'I know,' she said with a sigh. 'But he's not a bad guy, honest. But he doesn't know any of what I just told you, so don't you go telling him!'
'You have my promise,' I said.
'Us, too,' Massha said. She squeezed Hermalaya's hand. The two of them giggled. I was disgusted. It was completely illogical for her to feel that way.
'But that isn't our problem right now,' I said. 'At the moment we have to work out how to have a Cake ceremony in your castle without getting caught.'
'Who let these people in?'
'I'm so excited,' Elliora said, as I escorted her from her office directly into the throne room of the Foxe- Swampburg castle. We arrived in an outrush of air. Hermalaya, in her headcloth and apron, knelt quietly beside the low table where the Cake sat.
I'd seen the chamber only once before, when I had delivered Hermalaya there to get everything set up. In the space of only two hours, the princess had mustered my friends to decorate the vast room. The change was astounding. Colored bunting lined the stone walls. Pride of place was given to the Dragon tapestry, which hung on the wall opposite the main doors. The thrones had been taken off the dais and were arranged back-to-back in a circle with several lesser seats. The war banners and suits of armor that hung from the rafters over our heads had been festooned with colored ribbons, making them look like the last battle they had waged was in a toy store. Massha must have been responsible for the aerial bombardment of glitter and streamers. She wore a lei made of braided crepe paper over her orange harem costume. Chumley's purple fur was sprinkled well with glitter. Only Nunzio had escaped any festive ornamentation. Hermalaya wore only her plain white-silk apron and headcloth Elliora was so taken by the decor that she danced around in a circle.
