Unicorns? Get Real!

rocker and lumber into the chamber. “Goodness, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
    “Not a ghost. A zit! I have a zit!”
    And indeed she did. A red pimple blossomed on the end of the lovely princess’s nose.
    “By the grace of Saint Clarice, she has abandoned me,” Alicia moaned.
    “Saint Clarice?” Kristen asked.
    “Patron saint of clear complexions,” Gilly answered as she came in with a pot in her hands. Alicia was known for her flawless complexion. She regarded any blemish with a horror usually reserved for leprosy or heart attacks.
    “Quick, Gilly, get the snails!”
    “The snails!” the other three princesses gasped. They all knew the sickening remedy to clear pimples and had vowed never to succumb to it.
    “Right here, Your Highness.” She lifted up the pot. “Had them ready in case of such an emergency.”
    “Eeew!” Kristen made a sound of disgust.
    “This is no time for squeamishness, Kristen. Snails and the salt are required. This is battle. Would a knight go without his armor?” Alicia challenged.
    “But squished snails,” Kristen said in a weak voice.
    It was well known that the very best treatment for pimples was snails squished up and mixed with salt, then applied to the face. It was a remedy far superior to the usual one of rose water mixed with lemon juice.
    As nauseating as the remedy was, the four princesses watched with rapt attention when Gilly poured salt into several snail shells, which encouraged the creatures to come out. With a pin she dragged them the rest of the way and then began to expertly mash them up with a bit more salt until they were a fine paste.
    “Poor snails.” Myrella sighed.
    “They don’t have a brain,” Gundersnap said. “No nerves. Very low engineering in terms of the animal kingdom. A step above algae.”
    With a small spatula, Gilly began to apply the snail mash to the end of Alicia’s nose.
    “How long does she have to wear that stuff?” Kristen asked.
    “As long as it takes!” Alicia replied firmly. “Please send my regrets to the Great Hall tonight and tell them I shall not be dining, due to a temporary indisposition.”
    “What’s an indisposition?” Myrella asked.
    “In this case, a zit,” Alicia replied. Holding her head as if it were in a vice, she made her way to her bed, where she carefully lay down. She was as still as one of the reclining statues on a coffin in a royal burial chapel. She closed her eyes. “Do not disturb me.”
    Gundersnap rolled her eyes and once more thought how stupid all this was. Well, she for one was not going to submit herself a moment longer to the giddy foolishness that permeated the entire castle. She too planned to send her regrets to the Great Hall, but for other reasons: a visit to Berwynna was in order.

Chapter 13
    JUST ME?

    Luckily there was an almost full moon, and the Forest of Chimes with its glass bells twinkled brightly. It was easy for Gundersnap to find her way to the place where she had last seen Berwynna. She would do as she had previously—stand, wait quietly—then, if Berwynna did not at first appear, think a slightly insulting thought. Insults always brought Berwynna out. It seemed as if several minutes had passed, and so far there was no sign of the little old woman who claimed to be Merlin’s sister but apparently was not nearly as good a magician.
    “Don’t even go there!” The snarl set the chimes to tinkling as Berwynna once again seemed to emerge from the bark of the tree. She was wearing her moss tutu this time, and on her feet she had odd-looking shoes that curled up at the toes into points, with an acorn stuck on the tip of each point. Her hair was its usual mess, caught up in a spider’s web, and there were a half a dozen spiders creeping around in it. This time on her shoulder a blue jay perched.
    “Go where?” Gundersnap replied.
    “You-know-who.”
    “No, I don’t know who.” She paused briefly. “Oh, your brother Merlin!”
    “Oh yes, him .” Berwynna’s eyes bugged out a bit as she said “him.”
    Gundersnap understood that Berwynna was very sensitive about her brother and his fame. It had been stupid to compare them.
    “Yes, very stupid indeed!” Berwynna said.
    Blast! For just a moment, Gundersnap had forgotten that Berwynna could read minds.
    “Oh yes, I can! One cannot compare Merlin’s and my magic. Merlin is becoming a cultish figure…cheap commercialization…mass-market magic. I practice a more elegant, upscale, high-end