thinks she's ugly then it must be true, for here, everything is real and true. Her stomach rumbles, an obscene series of growls, and the elf in the next tree flies out of his leaf.
“All night with the snoring and now its beastie gut growls—away with you both—Bonsai,” the elf screams and dive-bombs the princesses. Helga floats to the bog moss below and beckons Rune to follow. “I know where lingonberries grow.”
Rune hesitates, her paw raised to flatten the obnoxious elf with his next maneuver. Why should I stay and listen to Helga? I know she transformed from a frog to a princess, and the birds said Copenhagen is the best place to transform, what else do I need to know? I’m wasting precious time here.
“The most important part of my story is that I did it all for love, for the love of Michael I was transformed,” Helga says and Rune jumps from the tree like a spring peeper.
She follows Helga to a slight mound above the Bog Lake. The lingonberries are just past ripe, red, plump juicy balls in clusters of five or so, and Rune digs in like a shoat at the trough. Helga bends in a stand of bulrush and yanks a dozen plants out by the roots, She snaps the roots from the leaves and tosses the roots onto the mound for Rune’s consumption. Then she picks off all the long slender leaves and begins weaving them together. "In the autumn of my fourteenth year, Worick returned from the raids with prisoners and among them was Michael."
A bell sounds from afar and Helga's aura flashes red as the lingonberries. "Michael was a Christian priest as handsome as the god Balder. The men put him in the cellar and bound his hands and feet." Helga moans, "Oh, it is too horrible to repeat the words I spoke, if only I could take them back, if only I had never been born."
Rune stops chewing, tucks the mass of root into her cheek and says, "You don't have to repeat anything. I'd like to ask you about how you transform and . . ."
"No! I must . . ." Helga interrupts . . . "I told Worick that the priest's legs should be pieced, a rope pulled through them and tied to the tail of a bull so I might have the fun of following on horseback."
Rune gapes, "Why would you want to do that?"
"Because I was evil by day; the evil child of the Bog King. And I couldn't stand his handsome face, a face that looked upon me with disdain."
"Like you were something smelly he's stepped in," Rune murmurs, chewing a mud ball from her armpit.
"Worick refused me. Because the priest had offended the gods, he was to be offered to them at dawn. Illa dragged me, kicking and screaming into her chamber and locked the door. When I transformed she said,
Great is a mother's love, but you have never felt love for anything. Your heart is made from the black cold mud of the bog! Why did you ever come to my house!
"Mothers sure are mixed up around here," Rune says.
Far away from the bog, Beauty hears her daughter's words speak through the mirror and hope rises in her hirsute chest. "Stay--stay where you are Rune. Mother is coming."
* * *
Chapter Six
Judas Priest
"What did I tell you, Gumby head? The first sign of disillusionment."
Elora the enchantress has showered and changed into a Mongolian cashmere sweat suit. She and Croesus have moved to the palace salon where they're watching Rune and Helga in the crystal ball. "Half an hour more with halogenated Helga and Rune will be backtracking fast as her beastie feet can run."
Within the glass they see Helga has woven a small male figure from the bulrush leaves. “Illa's words touched the part of my soul that longed for love and I wept great tears,” she says. “ Once Illa had fallen asleep, I hopped to the cellar when Michael slept. He was even more beautiful in slumber, and I touched that perfection with my cold green hand."
Rune stops in mid-chew. "What happened?"
"He woke, pissed his priestly robe and shivered like wet dog. I cut the ropes
“All night with the snoring and now its beastie gut growls—away with you both—Bonsai,” the elf screams and dive-bombs the princesses. Helga floats to the bog moss below and beckons Rune to follow. “I know where lingonberries grow.”
Rune hesitates, her paw raised to flatten the obnoxious elf with his next maneuver. Why should I stay and listen to Helga? I know she transformed from a frog to a princess, and the birds said Copenhagen is the best place to transform, what else do I need to know? I’m wasting precious time here.
“The most important part of my story is that I did it all for love, for the love of Michael I was transformed,” Helga says and Rune jumps from the tree like a spring peeper.
She follows Helga to a slight mound above the Bog Lake. The lingonberries are just past ripe, red, plump juicy balls in clusters of five or so, and Rune digs in like a shoat at the trough. Helga bends in a stand of bulrush and yanks a dozen plants out by the roots, She snaps the roots from the leaves and tosses the roots onto the mound for Rune’s consumption. Then she picks off all the long slender leaves and begins weaving them together. "In the autumn of my fourteenth year, Worick returned from the raids with prisoners and among them was Michael."
A bell sounds from afar and Helga's aura flashes red as the lingonberries. "Michael was a Christian priest as handsome as the god Balder. The men put him in the cellar and bound his hands and feet." Helga moans, "Oh, it is too horrible to repeat the words I spoke, if only I could take them back, if only I had never been born."
Rune stops chewing, tucks the mass of root into her cheek and says, "You don't have to repeat anything. I'd like to ask you about how you transform and . . ."
"No! I must . . ." Helga interrupts . . . "I told Worick that the priest's legs should be pieced, a rope pulled through them and tied to the tail of a bull so I might have the fun of following on horseback."
Rune gapes, "Why would you want to do that?"
"Because I was evil by day; the evil child of the Bog King. And I couldn't stand his handsome face, a face that looked upon me with disdain."
"Like you were something smelly he's stepped in," Rune murmurs, chewing a mud ball from her armpit.
"Worick refused me. Because the priest had offended the gods, he was to be offered to them at dawn. Illa dragged me, kicking and screaming into her chamber and locked the door. When I transformed she said,
Great is a mother's love, but you have never felt love for anything. Your heart is made from the black cold mud of the bog! Why did you ever come to my house!
"Mothers sure are mixed up around here," Rune says.
Far away from the bog, Beauty hears her daughter's words speak through the mirror and hope rises in her hirsute chest. "Stay--stay where you are Rune. Mother is coming."
* * *
Chapter Six
Judas Priest
"What did I tell you, Gumby head? The first sign of disillusionment."
Elora the enchantress has showered and changed into a Mongolian cashmere sweat suit. She and Croesus have moved to the palace salon where they're watching Rune and Helga in the crystal ball. "Half an hour more with halogenated Helga and Rune will be backtracking fast as her beastie feet can run."
Within the glass they see Helga has woven a small male figure from the bulrush leaves. “Illa's words touched the part of my soul that longed for love and I wept great tears,” she says. “ Once Illa had fallen asleep, I hopped to the cellar when Michael slept. He was even more beautiful in slumber, and I touched that perfection with my cold green hand."
Rune stops in mid-chew. "What happened?"
"He woke, pissed his priestly robe and shivered like wet dog. I cut the ropes
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