The Fairy’s Gift
At Your Behest
Enthralled
Bound and Determined
Elementary Ella
• Char’s mother is Queen Daria. In The Two Princesses of Bamarre, Meryl and Addie’s dead mother was Queen Daria. I had no idea I’d repeated the name until a girl asked me about it at a book signing. I was shocked. My editor was shocked. When she recovered from her shock, she said, “Well, in every future book in which there’s a queen who’s a minor character, you can name her Daria. It will be your trademark.” So, in Fairest, I named King Oscaro’s deceased first wife Adaria, which is really Daria, because in Ayortha every word begins and ends with the same vowel. I wonder where Daria will crop up next?
• When Ella’s mother is sick, Ella wishes for her recovery on a grove of trees in the old castle in Frell. These are trees whose branches have been pruned in the shape of candelabra. I saw such trees in the Cloisters in Fort Tryon Park, near where I grew up in New York City. The Cloisters is a museum that you can visit to experience medieval art and architecture. In warm weather you can walk in the gardens and admire the topiary.
• I thought of the magic book because I wanted Ella and readers to know a few things they couldn’t find out any other way. For example, Ella reads in it about her father’s trip to the giants’ wedding. Sir Peter mentions that fairies are likely to be present, and Ella thinks Lucinda may come. This is why she runs away from finishing school.
• From the kitchen, where she’s helping Mandy, Ella sprinkles passiflora over Mum Olga’s food at a formal dinner. Shortly thereafter, Mum Olga falls asleep over her meal and has to be carried off to bed—one of Ella’s minor revenges. There really is such a thing as passiflora. It’s the scientific name for the passion flower, which can be used to relieve insomnia. However, bogweed, which forces Hattie to be truthful in the finishing school garden, is entirely invented.
The Unseen Scene
This scene was cut from the original novel. It takes place on the night before Sir Peter’s wedding, and he’s tipsy.
The night before the ceremony, Father dined at home.
“My lady love has banished me,” he said, gulping the last of a glass of wine. His usually perfect cravat had a large red stain. “The marquise believes we may not sup together before our nuptials lest our affection drain away in the night.” He poured another glass. “She needn’t fear for mine.”
“When will you tell her we’re poor?”
“At her manor after the wedding. I suggest you take refuge in the cellar.”
“I’ll stand my ground.”
“My stalwart daughter. The companion of my last night of freedom.” He corrected himself. “My last night of poverty.”
My last night of freedom.
“I’d rather be in the kitchen with Mandy.”
“Ah, the estimable Mandy.” He broke off. The estimable Mandy appeared in the doorway with our soup.
She placed the bowls before us and left.
“The estimable Mandy,” he repeated, “whom my stalwart daughter loves more than her scoundrel father.”
“I don’t love you at all.”
He raised his glass. “To the estimable Mandy, whom my gluttonous wife will also love, but not so much, I trust, as she loves me now.”
“Why do you care if she loves you?”
“I don’t care, and once we’re husband and wife, I shall try to make her detest me.” He drained the glass.
Mandy delivered our main course.
“May I travel with you, Father?” My lot would be better with him—so long as he didn’t find out about the curse.
“You wish to leave the estimable Mandy to travel with a reprobate father whom you don’t love? Why?”
“I could help you. I could translate if you don’t speak a certain language.”
“A reason for me to take you, but not for you to want to come.” He leaned back in his chair.
“I’d like to travel. I loved the elves and the giants. I liked speaking their languages.”
“And how would you behave when your scoundrel of a father took advantage of his customers?”
“I’d be silent. I would argue with you later.”
“The last thing I want is an argument, or a child tagging after me.”
“I’m not a child.”
“And worse would be a young woman to have to watch and guard.”
Gnomic Spoken Here:
The Languages of Ella Enchanted
I made up the different languages because I liked the ones that J. R. R. Tolkien invented in his Lord of the Rings trilogy. If you examine mine closely you’ll see that each one looks a bit different, and each one has a distinctive sound.
Gnomic is punctuated and capitalized backward. When you speak Gnomic, you find yourself using the back of your throat a lot. You could even wind up with a sore throat!
The Abdegi alphabet has fewer letters than we have in ours. Abdegi has all our vowels, but only hard consonants, like k and b. No f or s. The name of their language is its first six letters. Since the giants are such emotional creatures, noises that express their feelings, such as screeches, whistles, and howls, are part of their speech.
Ogrese is sneaky, just like the ogres. It sounds soft and pretty. When you read it you’ll notice that double letters are capitalized.
Elfian is phonetically like English. It’s simply nonsense words.
Every word in Ayorthaian starts with a vowel and ends with the same vowel. I had to pay attention to this years later when I wrote Fairest, which takes place in Ayortha. In fact it was a challenge. All the Ayorthaian names had to follow the rule, and yet I didn’t want them to be strange and hard to remember.
Sometimes when I give a speech, I end by saying “Thank you” in each of the languages. The five expressions below mean thank you. I had to be inventive with the Ogrese one, because ogres are not polite, so I had to come as close as I could.
Gnomic: .pwich usoch wadjezZ
Abdegi: Aiiiee (howl) aaau!
Elfian: Cadsu. (Literally, Trees.)
Ayorthaian: Abensa egralve uffubensu.
Ogrese: Forns mnar psySSahbuSS. (Literally, It is delicious.)
The following is a running glossary I kept as I wrote the book. I didn’t always keep it up to date, so there may be omissions and also words that got cut from the final book. If you match up the words with the sentences, you’ll notice that I didn’t pay much attention to grammar!
ABDEGI
Abdegi–English
aaau: you
aiiiee: I
bek: already
ooo: miss
English–Abdegi
I: aiiiee
already: bek
miss: ooo
you: aaau
GNOMIC
Gnomic–English
abach: with
achoed: ore
achoedach: baby gnome; gnome child
achvudzz: food
adh: its
aooyeh: to go
aphchuz: a place
azzaqk: honorable
azzoogh: my
brzzay: digging
choch: exclamation, like “oh!” or “oh my!” or even “eek!”
choe: the
Chulph: the name of the young gnome
dh: is
dulk: soul
dyzzoch: make
dyzzocha: makes
ech: not, negative
echachoed: human (literally, not gnome)
echachoedachi: human girl child
eejh: under
eerth: and
evtoogh: good (for)
fraech: mother
fraechlu: queen
fraechramm: grandmother
fwthchor: health
glydzz: heart
iqkwo: until
noch: into
oawk: a
och: as
olech: brother
Plogh!: Look!
pwach: we
pwich: I w
ant
ssyngwyff: ogre
szhoegh: gem
toolk: earth
ubaech: gold
ufedjee: again
uochludwaach: the hills of
wexjhatz: polishing
xicq: spoke
ych: about
ymmadboech: wealth
yuigh: iron
zchoak: home
zimmzchedH: Gnome Caverns
English–Gnomic
a: oawk
about: ych
again: ufedjee
and: eerth
a place: aphchuz
as: och
baby gnome; gnome child: achoedach
brother: olech
digging: brzzay
earth: toolk
exclamation, like “oh!” or “oh my!” or even “eek!”: choch!
food: achvudzz
gem: szhoegh
Gnome Caverns: zimmzchedH
gold: ubaech
good (for): evtoogh
grandmother: fraechramm
health: fwthchor
heart: glydzz
home: zchoak
honorable: azzaqk
human (literally, not gnome): echachoed
human girl child: echachoedachi
into: noch
iron: yuigh
is: dh
its: adh
I want: pwich
Look!: Plogh!
make: dyzzoch
makes: dyzzocha
mother: fraech
my: azzoogh
not, negative: ech
ogre: ssyngwyff
ore: achoed
polishing: wexjhatz
queen: fraechlu
soul: dulk
spoke: xicq
the: choe
the hills of: uochludwaach
the name of the young gnome: Chulph
to go: aooyeh
under: eejh
until: iqkwo
we: pwach
wealth: ymmadboech
with: abach
OGRESE
Ogrese–English
AAh: do
ahFF: little
ahmyNN: my
ahthOOn: much (lots of)
ehf: for
eMMong: be
ethSSif: are told
forns: it
frah: stole
freh: stealing
hahj: what
hiFFeMM: forgive
hijyNN: dinner
ismyNN: we
jhOOng: girl
MMeu: come
myNN: me; I
ngah: here
ohrth: always
OOnger: any
psySSahbuSS: delicious
SShrEE: did you
SSyng: eat
suSS: and
szEE: you
thash: when
thOOsh: swear
uiv: will
whadz: know
English–Ogrese
always: ohrth
and: suSS
any: OOnger
are told: ethSSif
be: eMMong
come: MMeu
delicious: psySSahbuSS
did you: SShrEE
dinner: hijyNN
do: AAh
eat: SSyng
for: ehf
forgive: hiffeMM
girl: jhOOng
here: ngah
it: forns
know: whadz
little: ahFF
me; I: myNN
much (lots of): ahthOOn
my: ahmyNN
stealing: freh
stole: frah
swear: thOOsh
we: ismyNN
what: hahj
when: thash
will: uiv
you: szEE
ELFIAN
Elfian–English
cadsu: trees
en: is
ep: before
faineb: leaves
ol: in
pess: the
poe: your
sot: count
ud: he
vib: stay
waddo: shade
wattill: sly
English–Elfian
before: ep
count: sot
he: ud
in: ol
leaves: faineb
shade: waddo
sly: wattill
stay: vib
the: pess
trees: cadsu
your: poe
AYORTHAIAN
Ayorthaian–English
abensa: I
anja: to meet
ascha: deep
asura: this
ecete: is
edanse: behave
ee: the
evtame: school
ischi: light
iffibensi: they
ii: a
inyi: my
iqui: and
ockommo: speak (as a language)
oyjento: finishing
ubensaru: your
ubensu: you
uhu: three
utyu: like, am pleased
English–Ayorthaian
a: ii
and: iqui
behave: edanse
finishing: oyjento
I: abensa
is: ecete
like, am pleased: utyu
my: inyi
school: evtame
speak (as a language): ockommo
the: ee
they: iffibensi
this: asura
to meet: anja
you: ubensu
your: ubensaru
A sneak peek at Gail Carson Levine’s next novel,
A Tale of Two Castles
CHAPTER ONE
Mother wiped her eyes on her sleeve and held me tight. I wept onto her shoulder. She released me while I went on weeping. A tear slipped into the strait through a crack in the wooden dock. Salt water to salt water, a drop of me in the brine that would separate me from home.
Father’s eyes were red. He pulled me into a hug, too. Albin stood to the side a few feet and blew his nose with a honk. He could blow his nose a dozen ways. A honk was the saddest.
The master of the cog called from the gangplank, “The tide won’t wait.”
I shouldered my satchel.
Mother began, “Lodie—”
“Elodie,” I said, brushing away tears. “My whole name.”
“Elodie,” she said, “don’t correct your elders. Keep your thoughts private. You are mistaken as often—”
“—as anyone,” I said.
“Elodie … ,” Father said, sounding nasal, “stay clear of the crafty dragons and the shape-shifting ogres.” He took an uneven breath. “Don’t befriend them! They won’t bother you if you—”
“—don’t bother them,” I said, glancing at Albin, who shrugged. He was the only one of us who’d ever been in the company of an ogre or a dragon. Soon I would be near both. At least one of each lived in the town of Two Castles. The castle that wasn’t the king’s belonged to an ogre.
“Don’t finish your elders’ sentences, Lodie,” Mother said.
“Elodie.” I wondered if Father’s adage was true. Maybe ogres and dragons bothered you especially if you didn’t bother them. I would be glad to meet either one—if I had a quick means of escape.
Albin said, “Remember, Elodie: If you have to speak to a dragon, call it IT, never him or her or he or she.”
I nodded. Only a dragon knows ITs gender.
Mother bent so her face was level with mine. “Worse than ogres or dragons … beware the whited sepulcher.”
The whited sepulcher was Mother’s great worry. I wanted to soothe her, but her instruction seemed impossible to follow. A sepulcher is a tomb. A whited sepulcher is someone who seems good but is, in truth, evil. How would I know?
“The geese”—Mother straightened, and her voice caught—“will look for you tomorrow.”
The geese! My tears flowed again. I hated the geese, bu
t I would miss them.
Mother flicked a gull’s feather off my shoulder. “You’re but a baby!”
I went to Albin and hugged him, too. He whispered into my hair, “Be what you must be.”
The master of the cog roared, “We’re off!”
I ran, leaped over a coil of rope, caught my foot, and went sprawling. Lambs and calves! Behind me, Mother cried out. I scrambled up, dusty but unharmed. I laughed through my tears and raced up the plank. A seaman drew it in.
The sail, decorated with the faded image of a winged fish, bellied in the breeze. We skimmed away from the dock. If fate was kind, in ten years I would see my parents and Albin again. If fate was cruel, never.
As they shrank, Mother losing her tallness, Father his girth, Albin his long beard, I waved. They waved back and didn’t stop. The last I could make out of them, they were still waving.
The island of Lahnt diminished, too. For the first time it seemed precious, with its wooded slopes and snowy peaks, the highest wreathed in clouds. I wished I could pick out Dair Mountain, where our Potluck Farm perched.
Farewell to my homeland. Farewell to my childhood.
Mother and Father’s instructions were to apprentice myself to a weaver, but I would not. Mansioner. I mouthed the word into the wind, the word that held my future. Mansioner. Actor. Mansioner of myth and fable. Mother and Father would understand once I found a master or mistress to serve and could join the guild someday.
Leaning into the ship’s hull, I felt the purse, hidden under my apron, which held my little knife, a lock of hair from one of Albin’s mansioning wigs, a pretty pink stone, a perfect shell from the beach this morning, and a single copper, which Father judged enough to feed me until I became apprenticed. Unless the winds blew against us, we would reach Two Castles, capital of the kingdom of Lepai, in two or three days, in time for Guild Week, when masters took on new apprentices. I might see the king or the ogre, if one of them came through town, but I was unlikely to enter either castle.
I had no desire to see King Grenville III, who liked war and taxes so much that his subjects called him Greedy Grenny. Lepai was a small kingdom, but bigger by half than when he’d mounted the throne—and so were our taxes bigger by half, or so Mother said. The king was believed to have his combative eye on Tair, Lahnt’s neighbor across the wide side of the strait.
Queen Sofie had died a decade ago, but I did hope to see the king’s daughter, Princess Renn, who was rumored to be somehow peculiar. A mansioner is interested in peculiarity.
And a mansioner observes. I turned away from home. To my left, three rowers toiled on a single oar. The one in the center called, “Pu-u-u-ll,” with each stroke. I heard his mate across the deck call the same. Father had told me the oars were for steering and the sail for speed. The deck between me and the far hull teemed with seamen, passengers, a donkey, and two cows.