Summer Island - A Prince in Peril

22 - The Message

About an hour earlier,Dinora, Zoë and Greta were minding the stall.

"You know what's strange?" asked Dinora.

"Everything," came Zoë's terse reply.

Dinora gave her friend a saucy stare. "The pies," she said flatly. "The pies are strange." She waited for some encouragement.

"What do you mean?" asked Greta graciously.

Dinora smiled and continued, her natural enthusiasm returning. "Well, Tia usually makes different kinds."

"These aren't different?"

"I guess they are, I mean sure, there are different kinds but this just feels strange."

"Blueberry," Zoë commented dryly. She was standing at the back of the stall where she could survey the crowd without being noticed herself. She didn't even look at her friends when she spoke. She was determined to find whomever it was they needed to meet, and while she would have much preferred being free to roam, she had consented to stay with the two younger girls at the stall for the next hour. She knew she shouldn't feel resentful but the excitement and adventure were outside the stall. That's where she wanted to be. That's where she could be useful. Nothing interesting is going to happen trapped in here, she thought. Further, it was bad enough to be stuck in the stall with the little kids. Now Dinora was making it worse by prattling on about the pies not feeling right.

"Huh?" Dinora asked.

"Blueberry, Dinora," Zoë patronized, making no effort to hide her irritation. "Normally she makes pies with Maine blueberries and today there aren't any. It's not a great mystery. They're just pies."

Dinora gave Greta a questioning look to which the younger girl shrugged her shoulders in silent response. Then Dinora, never one to hold a grudge, continued her conversation, trying to be a little quieter out of honest consideration for her friend.

"They are wonderful pies," she whispered to Greta, "my favorite. Well maybe not my absolute favorite. I adore the apple-and the strawberry-rhubarb too. It's so tart. But the blueberry ones are so beautiful because Tia does this fancy crust thing where she weaves it together. These are all just the regular-"

Dinora stopped in mid-sentence and stared at the pies before her. At the same time, a woman approached to purchase one. Seeing that Dinora was ignoring her responsibilities, Zoë stepped forward and accepted the woman's money. The purchaser picked up her pie and began to walk away.

"No!" Dinora shouted, snatching the pie away.

"Dinora!" Zoë yelled, before giving the woman an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, lady, but you can't have that pie." Dinora grabbed the money out of Zoë's hand and thrust it at the woman.

"Why in heaven not?" the woman asked indignantly.

"Yeah, why not?" Zoë echoed with a tenor in her voice bordering on malevolence.

"Because...because..." Dinora faltered.

Greta saved her. "Because I just remembered I lost my retainer in one of them and I don't know which one."

The woman looked disgusted. She grabbed her money and walked away haughtily.

"Dinora, you little...." Zoë looked at the girl as if she were about to strangle her.

"Zoë," Dinora whispered urgently, "look at the pies." For a moment Greta wasn't sure what Zoë was going to do. Then Dinora added a distinct and heartfelt, "Please."