She looked down into the dark depths of the well. The water was far enough down, lost in shadows, she couldn't catch the slightest glimmer of the surface. She reached for the handle to lower the bucket.
"What do you think you're doing?" a young girl called. "You're supposed to wait for me to help you."
Merrigan looked around and located another path coming toward the well from the opposite direction of the road. A girl, maybe fourteen years old, dressed in bright clothes, probably her festival outfit, trudged down the path, lugging a silver pitcher.
"Oh, dear," she muttered, sensing she had stepped into a fable, but not quite sure which one and where she had entered. "Are you supposed to help me? Dear?" she added. After all, she looked like an old, skinny, helpless widow. Might as well play the part.
Did she have a part to play in this particular story? Merrigan hoped not. She was a queen, which meant she was the one who did the manipulating of others. No one manipulated Merrigan of Avylyn and Carlion.
"That's what Mother told me to do. I'm supposed to come to this old well that nobody goes to anymore, unless you're in trouble, and be polite and sugary like Drusilla and draw water for a ragged old granny, and she'll reward me. Then maybe we'll have enough money she can leave Drusilla's lazy old father and we can go somewhere far away and be better off." The girl plunked the silver pitcher down on the stone lip of the well. The pitcher rang slightly off-key, indicating the silver wasn't pure. Definitely a lower-class family. "You're not ragged, and your hair isn't that disgusting shade of white that really isn't white, so maybe you aren't a granny?"
"Oh, not yet. What's your name?" She settled on the edge of the well, careful to sit forward so she wouldn't topple in. If this was indeed an enchanted well, whoever lived in it would not be happy at having an uninvited visitor.
"Pearl."
"Well, Pearl, let me guess. Drusilla got sent to this well for a punishment, am I right?"
"Every time her nasty old father gets Mother angry, she makes Drusilla do twice as many chores as me—and he doesn't even notice! Who needs a lazy old useless father like that?"
"You are so right, dear. Let me guess. When Drusilla came here, an old lady was waiting and she asked for a drink of water, and Drusilla was, as you put it, sugary and gave the woman water, and the woman turned into a Fae and rewarded her?"
"Every time she talks, three copper pennies come out."
Cheapskate Fae.
Bib chuckled, his voice muffled by the bag and her cloak.
"Mother hopes since Drusilla used the old copper pitcher and she got copper coins, if I used the silver pitcher, I'd get silver coins."
"I'm sorry, dear, but that is not how all the stories go. You're lucky you ran into me, an ordinary old woman ..." She slid off the lip of the well and gestured for Pearl to follow her. "With a magic book," she announced, pulling Bib out of the bag, and putting him down on the bag on the edge of the platform. "Bib, my dear friend, please tell this poor deceived child what always happens to the well-dressed stepsister who gets sent to the well after her idiot stepsister gets all the good rewards."
Pearl jumped back a step when Bib flipped himself open. Her eyes widened with wonder as the words on the pages swirled around and resolved into line drawings to illustrate his stories.
I didn't know you could do that, she thought to him.
Not to be cheeky, Mi'Lady, but you didn't ask.
Merrigan managed a smile. She wasn't ready to laugh just yet.
Bib went through three variations on the same theme—the stepsister with the father was downtrodden and abused by the stepmother, the father paid no attention, and the daughter of the stepmother followed the instructions to the letter, prepared to be polite and sweet to an old lady. But of course, the Fae changed the rules halfway through. When the Fae woman showed up dressed like a queen, the poor stepsister, confused by the change and positive that she had lost her opportunity, was in a bad mood when she offered water to the royal lady. This always resulted in something nasty happening to her, in direct contrast to what her stepsister received—snakes or toads falling from her lips, instead of the jewels and flowers her stepsister received.
"That's not fair," Pearl murmured, when Bib finished his story and flipped closed again. "Drusilla isn't that bad. I mean, yes, she can be stupid sometimes, but look at her father. I'm sure Mother would take her with us when we escape, if she didn't think the law would accuse her of kidnapping." Turning, she sat on the edge of the well platform.
"What am I going to do? Mother is packing, ready to flee on the next coach to the capitol. We shouldn't even have to leave. It's our house, but that stupid old man wasted all the money my father left us and then he sold Mother's jewels and ..." She sniffled. "And for some reason, everyone in town thinks Mother is evil and we abuse Drusilla horribly. The fact is, nothing would get done if Mother wasn't constantly reminding him and arguing down our bills with the merchants. Drusilla is just too stupid to be mean-hearted and I don't mean to be angry with her all the time, because I did like her at the beginning, but she tries my patience so!"
Merrigan was quite impressed by the girl's self-control that she didn't burst into ugly, sloppy sobs that would turn her into a red-eyed, snotty mess in minutes. Still, she knew how much comforting a fourteen-year-old needed. Especially one so level-headed and yes, generous, because she seemed to like her idiot stepsister despite her flaws.
