The Princess was still laughing when Calypso stopped trying to escape.
That was the first thing that changed.
The second was the goose.
It had been perfectly content while Calypso pulled, twisted, threatened, bargained, and finally attempted the sort of impossible exit that usually ended an argument on her terms. None of it had mattered. Her hand remained caught. The baker remained caught behind her. The guard remained caught behind the baker.
They had become a ridiculous chain of increasingly offended people, all because Calypso had wanted a feather.
Now she stood very still.
The goose looked back at her.
Calypso looked at the goose.
The Princess covered her mouth, but another laugh escaped anyway.
Calypso slowly turned her head.
“Are you finished?”
The Princess considered that with far more seriousness than the question deserved.
“No.”
The baker groaned.
The guard muttered something under his breath.
Calypso’s eyes narrowed.
Then she looked down at the golden feather that had started everything.
It was still there, gleaming among the goose’s ordinary feathers as though it had no idea how much trouble it had caused.
Or perhaps it knew exactly.
Calypso had spent the entire disaster treating the goose like an obstacle. Something to outwit. Something to overpower. Something that should obey the normal rule of the world: if you pulled hard enough, eventually something gave.
But the goose had already demonstrated that normal rules were not especially important to it.
Her failed doorway had proved that.
Calypso relaxed her shoulders.
The baker nearly fell into her.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Nothing.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
The Princess laughed again.
Calypso ignored her.
She opened her trapped hand as much as the goose allowed. Instead of pulling away, she moved closer.
The goose blinked.
For the first time since the trouble began, it took a small step backward.
Calypso noticed.
So did the Princess.
Her laughter stopped.
Calypso smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
“Oh,” the Princess said.
The baker tried to look around Calypso’s shoulder. “What?”
“Quiet.”
“I only asked—”
“Quiet.”
Calypso took another step toward the goose.
The chain lurched after her. The baker stumbled forward, and the guard collided with him. There was a burst of protest behind Calypso, but she paid no attention.
The goose retreated again.
There it was.
Not fear exactly.
Preference.
The goose had enjoyed resistance. Every attempt to flee had given it something to oppose. Every tug had created another tug. Every helper had become another participant.
So Calypso stopped playing that version of the game.
She advanced.
The goose backed away.
She advanced again.
The procession followed.
The Princess stared at them.
Calypso’s smile widened.
“You wanted a parade,” the Princess said.
“No.”
“It looks like a parade.”
“I wanted a feather.”
“You have acquired significantly more than a feather.”
Behind Calypso, the baker made an offended sound.
“I am not an acquisition.”
The guard answered, “Neither am I.”
Calypso kept walking.
The goose kept retreating.
For several steps, nothing changed. Then its attention flicked away from Calypso.
Toward the baker.
More precisely, toward what the baker carried.
Calypso followed its gaze.
“You.”
The baker stiffened. “Me?”
“What do you have?”
“A regrettable sense of civic responsibility.”
“In your pocket.”
The baker looked down.
His free hand disappeared into his apron and returned with a small piece of bread.
The goose’s neck extended.
Everyone went silent.
Calypso stared at the bread.
Then at the goose.
Then at the baker.
“You had that the entire time?”
“I’m a baker.”
The Princess made a strangled sound and turned away, shoulders shaking.
Calypso’s expression became dangerously calm.
“Give it to me.”
“I would love to, but there is a small problem concerning my present attachment to you.”
“Throw it.”
“To the goose?”
“Away from the goose.”
The baker hesitated.
The guard said, “Do it.”
The baker tossed the bread across the ground.
The goose’s head snapped toward it.
Its body followed.
Calypso felt the grip on her hand shift.
For one glorious instant, she thought the ordeal was over.
Then the goose moved toward the bread without releasing her.
Calypso was yanked sideways.
The baker was yanked after her.
The guard came next.
The Princess doubled over laughing.
Calypso caught herself before she hit the ground and glared at the goose as it reached the bread.
It ate the piece in one bite.
Then it looked expectantly at the baker.
The baker looked at Calypso.
Calypso looked at his apron.
“No,” he said immediately.
“How much bread do you have?”
“That is private.”
“How much?”
The baker sighed and reached into another pocket.
He produced two more pieces.
The goose watched them with complete concentration.
Calypso’s annoyance disappeared beneath something sharper.
A plan.
“Princess.”
The Princess wiped at her eyes. “Yes?”
“Come here.”
“No.”
Calypso stared at her.
The Princess smiled. “I have seen what happens to people who come there.”
The baker nodded. “A wise decision.”
Calypso ignored him.
“Then stand where you are.”
“That I can do.”
Calypso instructed the baker to toss the next piece of bread toward the Princess.
He did.
The goose followed.
The entire unwilling procession moved with it.
The Princess’s smile faded as the group approached.
Calypso noticed immediately.
“Still hilarious?”
“Yes.”
The Princess took one step backward.
Calypso took one step forward.
The goose followed the bread.
The baker followed Calypso.
The guard followed the baker.
The Princess took another step back.
Calypso’s smile returned.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You seem less enthusiastic about the game now.”
“I am enthusiastic at a safer distance.”
The baker held up the final piece of bread.
The Princess looked at it.
Then at the goose.
Then at Calypso.
“Don’t.”
Calypso said nothing.
“Calypso.”
The baker waited.
The guard waited.
Even the goose seemed to wait.
Calypso nodded toward the Princess.
The baker threw.
The bread landed beside the Princess’s shoe.
The goose lunged.
The Princess jumped aside.
Calypso and everyone attached to her surged forward. For a moment the courtyard became nothing but flapping wings, stumbling feet, startled voices, and the Princess trying very hard to preserve her dignity while getting away from a determined goose.
Then something unexpected happened.
The goose released Calypso.
Her hand came free so suddenly that she nearly fell backward.
The baker staggered.
The guard caught him.
Everyone froze.
Calypso looked at her hand.
Free.
Actually free.
The Princess stopped moving.
The goose swallowed the bread.
Silence settled over them.
Calypso flexed her fingers once.
Twice.
The Princess pointed at the goose. “You could have done that earlier.”
Calypso slowly looked toward the baker.
He raised both hands as far as his situation allowed.
“No one asked whether I had bread.”
“You watched me open a doorway into nowhere.”
“Yes.”
“You watched it fail.”
“Yes.”
“And at no point did you think bread might be useful?”
“I assumed you knew what you were doing.”
The guard laughed.
It was only one sound, quickly suppressed, but Calypso heard it.
She turned.
The guard became very interested in the ground.
The Princess started laughing again.
This time Calypso did not threaten anyone.
She looked at the goose.
The golden feather was still there.
Untouched.
Bright.
Tempting.
The Princess noticed where she was looking.
“No.”
Calypso tilted her head.
“Absolutely not,” the Princess said. “You have just escaped.”
“I know.”
“You nearly dragged half the courtyard into whatever that was.”
“Not half.”
“The exact fraction is not the important part.”
Calypso stepped toward the goose.
The baker backed away.
The guard backed away faster.
The Princess stared at her in disbelief.
“You cannot possibly still want the feather.”
Calypso stopped beside the goose.
For a moment, she simply studied it.
Then she crouched.
The goose watched her.
Calypso did not reach for the golden feather.
Instead, she extended her empty palm.
The goose inspected it.
Nothing happened.
Calypso glanced at the baker.
“More bread.”
“I told you. That was the last—”
She kept looking at him.
The baker sighed, reached into a third pocket, and produced another piece.
The guard stared at him.
The Princess stared at him.
Calypso held out her hand.
The baker surrendered the bread.
“You are a deeply dishonest man.”
“I am a prepared man.”
Calypso placed the bread on her palm.
The goose stepped closer.
The Princess moved behind the guard.
Calypso noticed but said nothing.
The goose ate from her hand.
No one moved.
Calypso waited until it finished.
Then she lowered her hand.
Still she did not touch the golden feather.
The goose shook itself once.
A small feather drifted down.
White.
Ordinary.
It landed near Calypso’s boot.
The Princess laughed softly.
Calypso picked it up.
She examined it as if deciding whether the universe had insulted her deliberately.
Then another feather loosened.
Gold flashed in the light.
The feather floated downward.
Calypso caught it before it touched the ground.
Nobody spoke.
She turned it between her fingers.
The same prize she had tried to take by force had finally reached her without another struggle.
The Princess folded her arms.
“So after all that, the goose simply gave you one?”
Calypso looked at the feather.
“No.”
The Princess raised an eyebrow.
Calypso looked at the last piece of bread still hidden in the baker’s hand.
“I bought it.”
The baker immediately closed his fist.
The guard laughed again, this time without hiding it.
The Princess joined him.
Calypso slipped the golden feather safely away.
Then she looked at the goose, which had already lost interest in her and was staring at the baker.
The baker noticed.
His face fell.
“Why is it looking at me?”
Calypso stepped aside.
The guard did the same.
The Princess moved even farther away.
The baker looked from one face to another.
“No.”
The goose took a step toward him.
Calypso smiled.
The baker backed away, clutching his hidden bread.
“You are going to help me, surely.”
Calypso touched the golden feather in her pocket and remembered exactly how eagerly everyone had helped her.
Then she opened a doorway into nowhere beside herself.
This time, it worked perfectly.
The Princess’s eyes widened.
The baker pointed accusingly at Calypso. “You said that thing failed!”
“It did.”
The goose took another step toward him.
Calypso stepped into the doorway.
The Princess hurried after her.
The guard needed no invitation.
The baker stared at all three of them.
“You cannot leave me here.”
Calypso paused at the edge of nowhere and looked back.
The goose was now directly in front of him.
The baker held the bread behind his back.
Calypso gave him the only advice the day had earned.
“Don’t pull.”
Then she disappeared through the doorway, with the Princess laughing all over again.
