Troll Overboard Page 5

  Kevin let out a squawk and flung the flower away before rushing into the water, scrubbing frantically at his hooves.

  The prince let out an obnoxious sigh. “Can we skip the budding fish/pig romance and get to the part where you rescue us—or at least catch us some fish?”

  I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, so I moved a couple steps away. S’wella gave Roquefort an annoyed look.

  The prince let his head fall back. “Seriously?! Seaweed?!? That’s all you’re gonna do for us??”

  She smiled patiently. “Oh, trust me. There are plants you know nothing about. Ever had Troggle Pods?”

  The prince shook his head, looking sullenly away.

  “They taste just like gooey cinnamon buns. I’m not kidding. Or how about Fetzzle Stalks? They taste like mutton.”

  Kevin stopped scrubbing at himself and looked over.

  S’wella flipped her hair off her shoulders and laughed. “Oh, I’ll bring you extra, Kevin. It’s a ways away, so it may take me a while. Don’t y’all go anywhere!”

  She turned around, dove into a small wave, and with a couple kicks of her long tail, she was gone—leaving barely a ripple.

  * * *

  Kevin had it bad.

  Roquefort snorted as we made our way back up the beach. “She’s half sushi, if you didn’t notice.”

  Kevin was horrified. “You take that back! She saved your stupid life!”

  The prince chuckled as he leaned against a tree. “Look. To each his own.”

  Kevin’s face turned red and he huffed a few times before stomping off, kicking sand everywhere.

  I leaned against another tree and stared at the prince for a while. For once I wasn’t so much mad as I was . . . fascinated.

  Roquefort looked away like he hadn’t heard me. So I went on. “No, seriously! It’s in your bones. You have to be a jerk the way sharks have to swim. If they stop, they die.”

  “Look, troll.” The prince looked over at me like he was speaking to a toddler. “You may think it’s easy being the prince, but it isn’t. Things are expected of me that you wouldn’t even understand.”

  I was digging around in my ear for any remaining sand.

  “Well, there are the twice-a-day wardrobe changes and my nightly moisturizing ritual and . . . and . . . NEVER MIND!” The prince started walking away.

  “No, I really want to know!” I followed him. “If we have to share this stupid island, I’d like to—”

  Roquefort spun around to face me.

  “It’s my island and you two are just barnacles clinging to my hull. If I had the proper . . . the proper . . .”

  He was frantically making a hand gesture, so I guessed, “Scraping tool?”

  “Yes. Thank you. If I had the proper scraping tool, I’d scrape you right off!” He stormed away in the opposite direction from Kevin. “Leave me be, troll!”

  Kevin and I spent the next couple of hours looking for food—and not finding any. I kept looking out at the water hoping I’d see S’wella returning.

  Kevin was starting to freak out.

  “I’m so hungry, Zarf. They’re gonna find me here, all shriveled up!”

  He wasn’t alone in the hunger thing. Turns out it’s tough to get through a boat smuggling, a fight with a sea monster, a day adrift at sea, and being stranded on an island on a measly third of a banana. I’d never been this hungry. It wasn’t just my stomach anymore. My ears were hungry. My toes were hungry. Each of my teeth felt like a tiny little empty stomach.

  We were still walking along hoping we’d find something to eat when we came up behind the prince sitting on a rock. His head was down, so I thought he might be asleep . . . until he turned around.

  He was eating! I mean, really mowing down on something!

  I’ve described before how sometimes my troll anger comes rushing up from my toes. Well, this time it just exploded into me—one second it wasn’t there and the next moment it was. I think it was the rage and hunger combined. I took two steps and drilled into the side of the prince, both of us crashing into the sand.

  “YOU’RE HOLDING OUT?? What are you eating?”

  I tried to peel open the prince’s hands until Roquefort shouted, his face muffled by the sand.

  “Okay! Okay! It’s the beans!! My magic beans!”

  I was furious. “SHARE THEM, you sniveling little . . .”

  But Kevin grabbed my arm. “NO! Let him have it, Zarf! We don’t have any idea what those beans do!”

  I’ll admit—hunger may have been clouding my judgment. “Yeah, I do! They’re gonna FILL MY BELLY! That’s all I need to know!” Roquefort slapped my paw away, but I reached back in and got a big chunk of mushy beans away from him. I scuttled away like a wild animal guarding its dinner.

  Kevin was beside himself. “Zarf, stop. You know I’m right. Those things have been in the water for decades! I’m hungry too, and nobody wants to be tall more than me, but let’s see what happens to Roquefort first!”

  Roquefort jumped up and backed away, cupping his little stash of beans to his chest. He started laughing like he was losing it.

  “I’m going to take my rightful place as the tallest boy in Cotswin Middle School!” He turned and scampered away across the sand. “People will give me nicknames like Stretch and/or Beanpole!”

  I looked around at Kevin and met his pleading eyes, but I couldn’t help myself. Blame it on my troll brain. I crammed those beans in my mouth, chewed twice and swallowed.

  Kevin lost it.

  “S’wella’s gonna bring food at any time! Those beans could be poisonous for all we know. Or the magic could have gone bad. They could turn you both into—”

  I cut him off. “Stop being a worrywart for once, Kev! Just stop! Those beans are fine! Nothing is going to happen to Roquefort! You and I both know I’m—”

  I stopped as a bloodcurdling scream from our bean-eating prince drifted up from the beach.

  • 13 •

  BAD MAGIC

  Have you ever seen a werewolf movie? In most of the good ones, there comes a point where you get to see the main character turn into a wolf in a slow, disgusting, painful-looking way. They collapse and writhe in pain while thick hair grows out of them and their shoe size grows from a ten to a forty-three in a matter of seconds. Their nose and mouth stretch out of their face like they’re . . . Anyways, you get the idea.

  This was happening to Roquefort. Sort of.

  As we ran up, he was down on the sand on his hands and knees, groaning. At first I thought he was going to yarf, but then I saw his legs. They were starting to turn green from the toes up . . .

  And then they started to stretch.

  This sight was almost more than I could handle, but it was made waaay worse by the feeling of those beans settling into my empty stomach. I felt like I’d swallowed a time bomb.

  The prince looked back and saw his elongating green legs and let out a wail. I felt something in my stomach flip over as the prince’s legs started to twist and—I kid you not—sprout leaves.

  Kevin mumbled something about not passing out, then passed out. I had to sit down as I watched the prince’s legs get longer and longer. They were looking more and more like the beanstalks we’d seen underwater. The prince flopped over so he could see what was happening.

  And then the growing stopped.

  Roquefort and I sat there in shock, panting, staring at his new trunk legs. They were easily four or five times as long as his old legs.

  That’s when my first wave of pain hit. Only mine struck in my scalp and at the base of my ears. I doubled over next to Kevin—blissfully unconscious Kevin.

  It felt like someone had hooked my ears to two Speed Griffins and they took off at full speed. I could feel my hair swirling around like there was a tornado up there.

  I glanced over at Roquefort,
who had forgotten his new gnarly legs and was watching my head transform with a look of horror. I curled up in a ball and concentrated on breathing for what felt like hours—but was really about twenty seconds, from what Roquefort said later. And then the pain just . . . stopped.

  I sat up and looked at the prince.

  The stunned prince looked down at his legs and wiggled some of the roots at the bottom like toes. “Bad magic, I guess.”

  I noticed a thick vine hanging by my shoulder. I gave it a gentle tug and realized it was my ear, transformed. I could still hear, but it was kind of . . . half ear half vine. I was inspecting it when a big leaf fell in front of my face. I reached up into my hair, but it felt like sticking my hand in a plant.

  I guess magic beans affect trolls and humans differently.

  The prince exploded. “That’s nothing!! Look at my legs!! I’m half vegetable! And bathing suit season is coming up!!”

  Kevin stirred and sat up. There was panic in his eyes as he looked at my leafy hair and ears and then over at the prince’s legs. “What did I tell you, Zarf? What did I say??” Then he crossed his arms and looked away.

  The prince glared back at him. “If I could walk, I’d come over there and shove some of these beans down your . . .” One of his stalk legs bent at the knee and he stopped. “Hold the phone. Maybe I can come over there . . . If I just . . .”

  He bent the other leg and maneuvered himself onto his knees. Then—super wobbly at first—he stood up. Sort of.

  Finally he was standing—maybe six feet tall with the new stems—looking down at Kevin and me. He put his hands on his hips and looked around.

  There was a loud splash in the water behind us and we all turned. S’wella was lugging a big net full of plants behind her into the shallow water.

  Kevin took off running to help her—and to get his hooves on some of that mutton plant, no doubt. He splashed into the water, gushing. “Thank you, S’wella! Thank you thank you thank you.” S’wella smiled at Kevin, glowing, as he grabbed hold of the net and helped her pull. The prince and I walked up as Kevin reached in and jammed a wad of stalks into his mouth.

  S’wella was watching Kevin enjoy the plants until Roquefort piped up. “Um, HELLOOOO? Princes eat first? Was nobody taught manners?”

  S’wella turned around and looked up at Roquefort, taking in his new appearance.

  • 14 •

  LOVE ON THE HALF SHELL

  S’wella watched with a smile on her face as Kevin and I plopped down in the water and started stuffing our faces full of plants. The cinnamon bun pods were amazing, and she’d brought another plant that tasted a little like orange soda. Of course, once Kevin got a taste of the mutton-flavored Fetzzle Stalks, he didn’t care about the others.

  The prince, on the other hand, waded in, grabbed a big armful of plants, and stalked (get it?!) up the beach to eat and sulk by himself.

  We sat there happily stuffing our faces for a while, and I noticed that S’wella couldn’t take her eyes off of Kevin. Finally, with some effort, she looked over at me and raised an eyebrow.

  Kevin laughed so hard, a chunk of stalk shot out of his nose and he started choking. S’wella slid over and patted him on the back until he got himself under control, then she turned back to me—a serious look on her face.

  “You ate some of the beans, didn’t you?”

  I lowered my eyes and nodded.

  “I was really hoping that wasn’t where y’all had been.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her tail. “That’s the sea witch’s territory. She doesn’t take kindly to visitors.”

  Kevin sprayed chewed-up stalk. “Wait, WHAT?!?”

  “Ursula? She’s real. Sorry to upset you, but I’m sure she knows y’all took some beans. Her entire being is tuned in to those beans. She can track them. It’s like radar. Or bean-dar.”

  “HE TOOK BEANS!” Kevin stood up, pointing at Roquefort. “HIM! NOT US!”

  S’wella looked down and shook her head. “That won’t matter to her. Y’all just need to be careful. Lady Ursula holds a grudge worse than a beluga whale.”

  “But then again, you just took a few beans. It’s not like you messed with one of her children.”

  S’wella reached over and grabbed a Fetzzle Stalk. “That’s what people call them, but they’re more like . . . guards. Big dumb serpent guards. You’d know if you saw one.”

  My mouth went dry as I pictured a school bus– sized serpent who was probably nursing a pretty bad stomachache right about now.

  S’wella went on, waving the stalk around as she talked. “Now, if you mess with one of her ‘kids,’ she’ll hunt ya to the ends of the earth.” She leaned back in the water. “But thank goodness y’all don’t have to worry about that.”

  I suddenly felt ill. “I, um . . . I think I’m gonna go up in the shade and let my . . . let the food digest. Feeling kinda tired.” I faked a big yawn.

  Kevin looked around nervously. I thought it was about the sea witch until he spoke. Or blurted, which is more how it came out.

  She looked over at him and blushed. “Really?” Then she waggled her long tail in front of his face. “But, um . . . a walk? Is that a joke?”

  “What? I . . .” All the blood left Kevin’s face as he got flustered. “I mean a swim!! I didn’t . . . I don’t . . . !”

  S’wella started laughing. “I’m just messing with you, Kevin. I’d love to. But, while I can kind of flop along on dry land, it’s a whole lot easier in the water. Would you mind going for a wade instead?”

  Kevin got a goofy, relieved grin on his face. “Yeah. No. That’s good.” He let out the breath he’d been holding. “A wade sounds good.”

  They got up and headed down the beach as I walked up to find a nice spot to freak out for a while. I watched them go, but I couldn’t stop thinking about jabbing that thorn into the serpent’s insides.

  I plopped down under a tree, trying to ignore the loud prince snores coming from inside the shelter. I drifted in and out of sleep, but I was kind of losing it.

  I’ve mentioned the nightmares I’d been having. That afternoon, on that beautiful beach under swaying palm trees, I had the worst of them. Or I should say a bunch of the worst. As I slipped in and out of dreams of wolves and weasels and serpents, it became hard to tell when I was awake or asleep.

  I lay there in the cool shade sweating like I was in a furnace, my leafy hair wilting and lying plastered against my furry cheeks.

  In a word, it sucked. I had doomed us all to be hunted down by a vengeful . . . What the heck was a sea witch, anyway?

  I was relieved when Kevin and S’wella came back. I got up and joined them in the water, the sun setting behind them. They were laughing and teasing each other, and I was really glad Kevin had someone to distract him. Otherwise he’d probably be curled up under a big shell somewhere.

  S’wella said she had to get home or her family would be worried—and promised us she’d bring us more food in the morning.

  I figured I’d ask. “Is there anything you can do to help us get home?”

  S’wella smiled. “That’s tricky. We’re not really supposed to go near the mainland if we can help it. Sea rules and all.”

  She flopped back in the water, ready to take off. “Your best bet is to build your fire up. Hopefully someone will see the smoke.”

  She flipped her tail twice and was gone.

  Kevin and I worked for a couple of hours building a new, larger fire on the beach before sitting down in its glow to eat more of the plants. The only time we saw the prince was when he stumbled out on his new stalk legs and grabbed some Fetzzle Stalks. He grunted something about being “super tall now” and took them back to his little man cave.

  I listened to Kevin go on and on about his new love for a while before I finally flopped back and drifted off to thankfully dreamless sleep. I guess Kevin ran out of
steam sometime later.

  When I woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a deep chuckle and a sharp jab. I opened my eyes and realized someone was holding the tip of a sword to my nose. My eyes followed it up to the hilt, past the filthy fingers holding it, and up at one of the roughest-looking gnome pirates I could have dreamt up.

  • 15 •

  SWASHBUCKLED

  Kevin woke up when the gnome spoke, and let out a strangled yelp when he saw the motley crew staring down at us. I leaned a hair to the right and saw an enormous pirate ship anchored a ways out from the shore. It must have been five or six stories tall, with more sails than I could count, but it was the sight of the Jolly Roger flying at the top that made my stomach clench.

  There were three pirates, each one looking worse than the next. The old one seemed to find Kevin’s cowering particularly funny. He kept chuckling, revealing a mouth with only a few straggler teeth left behind.

  With an amazingly fast move, the old guy and the goat grabbed Kevin and me. I growled and spit and struggled against the goat, but he yanked my arms behind me and slapped a pair of rusty handcuffs on my wrists. I looked over and locked eyes with Kevin, who was in the early stages of a Code Red Flip-Out.