LITMIR.BIZ

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to travel with them—strode into the yard wearing his favorite pillow-top crown and long, zebra-striped robe. A blue jay zoomed by and snatched a tiny green pea from between the king’s thumb and forefinger. “Oh, well,” King King said.

      He opened his arms and beckoned for a hug. Snow nudged Duncan toward him.

      “Hello, Dad,” Duncan said as his father wrapped him in a tight embrace.

      “Son,” King King said happily. “You’ve grown. Or perhaps I’ve shrunk.”

      Queen Apricotta stepped in alongside her husband. She wore her red hair in long pigtails that flopped against her silver gown as she walked. “Hello, hello! It’s nice to see you, Snow,” she said. “Ooh, that rhymed! That was fun. I should say hello to you more often.”

      “Good afternoon, Your Highnesses,” Snow said with a curtsy. “And you, too, Mavis. Marvella.”

      The stoop-shouldered, inky-haired twins stood behind their mother, both wearing feathered shirts and homemade wings strapped to their backs. Their noses were painted yellow. “We’re owls,” the girls said in unison.

      “Fantastic,” Snow said, because that was the best thing she could think to say at the moment. “Would anyone like some tea?”

      “Tea!” the king shouted as he finally released Duncan from the hug.

      “Tea!” the queen echoed.

      “S!” yelled Mavis.

      “Q!” yelled Marvella.

      “Okay,” said Snow.

      “P, X!” added Marvella, who assumed that the game had now changed to calling out two letters at a time.

      “D, A!” said Mavis.

      “B, K!” said the king.

      Duncan leaned over to Snow and whispered, “This could go on for a while.”

      “Ooh, the dwarfs are here,” Queen Apricotta noted with delight. “They’re fun.”

      “Dwarves,” Frank corrected.

      King King crouched down in front of Frak. “Show me how you fellows do birdcalls. You do such wonderful birdcalls.”

      “He’s squatting,” Frak complained to no one in particular.

      “I can do a crow song. Want to hear?” the king said. He stood up and puffed out his chest. “Ka-caw! Ka-caw!”

      “I learned a song about dwarfs,” the queen announced.

      “Dwarves,” said Frank.

      “I think it goes like this,” Apricotta continued. “Dwarfs, dwarfs, dwarfs, dwarfs! Dwarfs, dwarfs, dwarfs, dwarfs!”

      The twins started pulling feathers from each other’s costumes and blowing them at Frid and Ferd.

      Duncan whispered to Snow again, “I can’t tell if this is going well or not.”

      Flik walked over to Frank and pointed to the garden gate. There was another person standing out there.

      “I’ll handle it,” Frank said, and eagerly darted away from the chaos.

      Smimf, the messenger, was waiting at the entrance to the yard. Frank eyed him suspiciously.

      “Excuse me, sir,” Smimf said. “I’m looking for Prince Duncan.”

      “He’s busy,” Frank said. “What do you want?”

      “I have a message here for Prince Duncan.” He held up the note.

      “Give it here,” Frank said.

      “I have strict orders that the message is only to be delivered to Prince Duncan.”

      “Oh, yeah, that’s me,” Frank said. “I’m Prince Duncan.”

      “Then here you are, sir, Your Highness, sir.” Smimf handed over the note.

      Frank’s eyes lit up as he read Frederic’s letter. “Hey, kid, wait here,” he said, and he started back into the yard.

      “Yes, sir, Your Highness, sir,” the messenger said. “And my name is Smimf.”

      Frank stopped. “Duncan gave you that name, didn’t he?”

      “I thought you were Duncan, sir, Your Highness, sir,” Smimf said with a tinge of horror.

      “Nah, but I’m gonna go get him.” Frank dashed off.

      Smimf swallowed hard. My second job ever, and I’ve already muffed it up, he thought.

      Frank returned several minutes later with Duncan and Flik.

      “What’s this all about, Frank?” Duncan asked as the dwarfs pulled him to the gate.

      “Read this,” Frank said. He shoved the note into Duncan’s hands.

      “Sorry, sir, Your Highness, sir,” Smimf said. “I thought the other gentleman was you.”

      “Really?” Duncan asked, looking up. “But I’m famous.”

      “Just read,” Frank urged.

      Duncan finished reading the letter. “Does this mean what I think it means?” he asked.

      “Knowing you, probably not,” Frank said. “It means one of your Prince Charming buddies got kidnapped. And you need to go help rescue him.”

      “That’s sort of almost what I thought it meant,” Duncan said, feeling rather happy with himself.

      “So, go,” Frank said. He handed Duncan a small sack. “I’m sure this bag has whatever you’ll need.”

      “Well, I’m not certain how to get to Avondell,” Duncan said. “Although I’m sure I can figure it out.”

      “Oh, no,” said Flik. “We don’t want you getting lost and circling back here.”

      “That’s why you’re gonna go with this kid here.” Frank pointed to Smimf.

      “Oh, um, yes, sir, Your Highness, sir,” the messenger said. “The name’s Smimf. I can lead you there. But I’m pretty fast. I hope you can keep up.”

      Flik dashed off to the stable and came back leading a dappled brown-and-white horse.

      “Ah, Papa Scoots Jr.!” Duncan said. “He’s a speedy steed. I’m sure he can keep up with your horse, Mr. Smimf.”

      “It’s just Smimf, sir, Your Highness, sir. And I don’t use a horse.”

      “No horse?” Duncan questioned as Flik and Frank hoisted him up onto Papa Scoots Jr. “Walking will take forever, though.”

      “Not for me, sir, Your Highness, sir,” Smimf said. “I’ve got these special boots. Seven-league boots, they’re called.”

      “Seven leagues! We princes only have one,” Duncan said. “Do the members of all seven leagues get to wear such snazzy boots?”

      “A league is a measure of distance, sir, Your Highness, sir. Three miles. The boots let me take very long steps. But I can go slower so you can follow me.”

      “That is so neat,” Duncan said. “And please, tell me about the rest of your ensemble. I’d never considered wearing short-pants with a scarf and hat, but I admit it’s quite fetching.”

      “Oh, well, the boots make me run really fast,” Smimf answered, “which makes my legs get hot, so I wear the shorts. But when I move with that kind of speed, the wind makes my upper half rather cold. So I wear the woolens. It all works out quite well when I’m running. Though it can get uncomfortable when I’m standing still. Like now.” He pulled off his hat and rung out a bit of his dripping, sweaty hair.

      “You two can chat about fashion

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