Only Hedric came back. He’d sent the good ravens to carry messages to the dwarves and Bert and to look for the royal dogs. He’d also sent some to see what was happening at Trallonia Castle, which was good thinking.
Anya spoke to him very seriously about the danger the Duke represented, to the forest and to the whole world, and the little she knew about the All-Encompassing Bill of Rights and Wrongs. When she was done, she asked him to gather any druids who might help her cause. After a short discussion about the rights of plants, which went nowhere because Anya felt she couldn’t promise anything, Hedric agreed to help anyway and left again, to go and collect the closest druids.
By the time the first glow of the sun could be seen above the forest canopy, the lip balm mixture was ready to be removed from the fire, and the beeswax mixed in. As Anya had a much better knowledge of the consistency of moat monster snot, Martha deferred to her on the question of how much wax to stir in. They both added the dried plums, which Martha had cut up into tiny pieces.
“Now it just has to cool for a while,” said Anya. She felt like she ought to be happy that she’d succeeded in her Quest. But she was too tired, and anyway, the Quest didn’t feel finished. It wouldn’t really be completed until she’d used the lip balm, and Denholm was a man again, and Shrub a boy, and Smoothie an otter, and all the frogs in the barrel back to being whatever they had been in the first place.
Duke Rikard also had to be defeated.
Anya had shied away from thinking about exactly what that meant, but she needed to think about it now. Before talking to Bert about the Bill of Rights and Wrongs she’d had the thought at the back of her mind that it was kill or be killed. The Duke wanted to kill her, so she would have to return the favor. Now that she had committed to at least trying to uphold the ancient laws, she supposed they’d have to capture the Duke and somehow stop him from using sorcery so he could be tried. But then they’d need to know the Laws Set in Stone, and get whatever it was Dehlia had said was required for a fair trial. A true mirror, or a unicorn, or something else.
It was all very difficult and made her head hurt.
“That’ll be cool in an hour off the fire,” said Martha. “You’ll kiss my Shrub first, I hope?”
Anya nodded. Her eyes closed as she did so, and she caught herself almost falling asleep. Ardent appeared at her elbow and touched her hand with his wet nose.
“All quiet,” he said. “Nothing happening. Not even rabbits.”
“I have to sleep,” said Anya. “Wake me up when the lip balm is cool, please. Or if … if anyone arrives. The Duke, or my friends.”
“I will, Princess,” said Ardent.
Anya smiled, lay down where she stood, and fell instantly asleep.
Anya was awoken by a kiss. Or, more exactly, a lick. On her open mouth. Though she loved Ardent very much, this was a bit excessive. The princess pushed the grinning dog’s snout aside, wiped her face with her sleeve, and levered herself up.
“What is it?” she asked crossly. The sun had hardly moved; she must have only been asleep for twenty minutes, if that. “Can’t you let me sleep?”
“Weaselfolk!” Ardent cried. “One of the good ravens reported two dozen of them, c-c-coming this way along the forest road. Maybe fifteen minutes away. Advance guard for a larger army the Duke is getting ready at the c-c-astle. Hedric’s got a couple of druids in though, and they’re going to try to slow them down with some grasping vines and the like.”
“Have any of our friends arrived?” asked Anya, suddenly very awake again, her stomach flipping in sudden fear. She gulped and tried to steady herself. “The dogs? Any Responsible Robbers?”
“No one,” said Ardent. “We should retreat, go deeper into the forest. Quickly.”
“But the weasels will ambush anyone coming here if we do that,” protested Anya. “You said the Duke is back at the castle?”
“So the raven told Hedric. Transforming another c-c-artload of weasels. He’s already got an army of them, and it looks like some at least are getting ready to march into the forest. They must know we’re here.”
Anya looked around. There was only Martha, Smoothie, Shrub, and a barrelful of frogs. There was no way they could fight even the advance guard. But they also couldn’t easily retreat. The cauldron with the precious lip balm was too heavy, and the barrel was as well, without time to put the frogs back in a sack.
Frogs.
Anya staggered to her feet and thrust her finger into the lurid purple mixture in the very middle of the cauldron. It was still warm there, but not as hot as the stuff around the edges. She smeared some of the balm on her lips.
“Got to transform the frogs back,” she said hurriedly to Ardent. “They’ll fight for us. I hope. If they’re not all useless princes.”
She started towards the barrel, but stopped as Martha stepped in front of her.
“You said you’d kiss my Shrub first,” she said.
“There’s no time. I need warriors!” exclaimed Anya.
Martha didn’t get out of the way. She folded her arms and glowered.
“All right, all right!” gabbled Anya. “I hope this works.”
She beckoned to Shrub.
The newt didn’t respond, though everyone else rushed over. Smoothie climbed up a nearby branch to get a better view of the proceedings. Ardent plumped himself down on Anya’s foot. But Shrub still didn’t move from the hole he’d dug for himself under a stunted hawthorn.
“Hurry up, Shrub, you’re first!” called out Anya. She wondered where the safest place to kiss him would be. “Don’t forget. No poison secretions, all right?”
Shrub shook his head and sat lower in his scrape.
“Shrub!” bellowed Martha. “You come here this instant! Anyone would think you want to stay a newt forever.”
“What is wrong with you?” asked Anya crossly. “We’re about to be attacked by weaselfolk and all you can do is sit there?”
She ran over to the newt, and despite his urgent scrambling, bent down and kissed him right between his goggly eyes.
Nothing happened.