Meanwhile inside the castle things were getting stead-ily worse. The three aunts sniffed and snooped along the corridors; they peered and poked into the rooms; they shuddered and shivered and complained. They found sordid tasks which they expected the rescuers to do.
“My earplugs are too hard,” complained the Aunt-with-the-Ears, and she told the wizard to knead them with the soles of his feet to soften them.
The Aunt-with-the-Eyes had brought a bottle of ointment and a dropper which she expected the Hag to drop into her eyes, and then yelled at her because it stung. The Aunt-with-the-Nose dug up patches in the lawn to get at the roots she liked for a snack, and they had to follow her and put the turf back again.
One of the things they quarreled about was where they would put their collections.
“There isn’t a decent place for my worm collection anywhere,” complained the Aunt-with-the-Nose. “I want somewhere warm and quiet and moist; that shouldn’t be too difficult.”
The Aunt-with-the-Eyes wanted somewhere dry for her bone collection, and the Aunt-with-the-Ears said she needed a quiet straw-lined place for her egg collection, and why didn’t Dennis have anything like that. “The place is big enough, surely,” she complained.
The children found it hard to keep their tempers, especially when the aunts bullied the Hag — but they were becoming very sorry for the ogre, who looked more puzzled and worried every day.
“I’m sure they’ll come up with something good soon, don’t you think?” he asked them. “They’re just getting themselves sorted out.”
But as far as they could see the aunts were going to pieces. At the beginning they had been quite friendly to one another though rude to everyone else, but that had gone. They called one another names, they threw things and slammed doors, and at night they could be heard screaming in their sleep. Obviously each of them was so anxious to have the castle that their jealousy had become uncontrollable.
“I suppose I could leave the castle to all three of them,” said the ogre doubtfully, “but with the way they’re quarreling now, that doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
Then there came a morning when the Aunt-with-the-Nose pushed the Hag out of the way so hard that she fell and hurt her forehead.
“Right,” said the troll. “That does it. We’re leaving straightaway.”
The Hag said no, she was perfectly all right, but her friends had had enough. So they went to find the ogre and told him they were going — and they said they were taking Charlie, which had already been agreed on.
The ogre was very upset. “Couldn’t you wait just a few days? I could give you a lift in the hearse.”
It was difficult to say no to him, but when they looked at the bruise on the Hag’s forehead they knew it was time to go.
They went to bed early, meaning to start at dawn, but they had very little sleep because the aunts screamed and shouted all night, and the Aunt-with-the-Nose was found sleepwalking in the corridor and had to be pushed back into bed. So they were later than they meant to be as they went to the ogre’s room to say good-bye.
But when they got there they found a most extraordinary hullabaloo. All the aunts were standing around the ogre’s bed and they were crying and screaming and hiccuping.
“I won’t,” shouted the Aunt-with-the-Ears. “I won’t and you can’t make me!”
“Well, you needn’t think I will either,” yelled the Aunt-with-the-Eyes. “I couldn’t. I absolutely couldn’t endure it.”
“And I suppose you think you can fob it off on me,” screeched the Aunt-with-the-Nose. “But you can’t. You can’t. You can’t,” she yelled, getting hysterical and stamping her feet.
“What’s happened?” asked Ulf. “What’s going on?”
The ogre was sitting up in bed, looking thoroughly bewildered.
“They don’t want it,” he said, shaking his head. “They don’t want the castle. None of them do.”
The aunts turned on him.
“No we don’t. We never will. We want to go home.”
“Home!” shouted the Aunt-with-the-Eyes. “Home to my lovely lighthouse.”
“Home to my cave! My very own cave,” screeched the Aunt-with-the-Nose.
“Home to my abbey. Mine! My own place, my own home forever and ever,” yelled the Aunt-with-the-Ears.
They had stopped screaming now and begun to sob — great gloopy tears of homesickness and relief.
It seemed that they had liked the idea of owning a castle, but when it came to the point they couldn’t bear to leave their homes, and each of them had been pushing the castle off on the others, which was why they had been getting more and more bad-tempered.
“Home to my roots and my stalactites and my worms,” cried the Aunt-with-the-Nose.
“Home to my cloister and my eggs and my quietness.”
“Home to the sea and my bones.”
They went on sobbing and slurping with relief for several more minutes. Then quite suddenly they said, “Good-bye,” and rushed out of the castle. Rushed over the drawbridge and away… away over the hills, while the earth shuddered under their great boots.
But Ivo had remembered something. He ran out after them, ran like the wind — but there was no hope of catching them, and after a while he came panting back into the ogre’s room.
“They’ve left Clarence,” he said.
“They’ll come back for him, surely,” said Mirella.
But they never did.
CHAPTER 25
The White Bird
It was because of his horse that Prince Umberto returned safely to the palace in Waterfield.
The stallion simply plodded on, through dark woods, across dangerous bridges, on and on, not spooked by anything, making for his stable. All that Umberto had to do was hold on, which he managed just about, but when he reached Waterfield and the groom came forward to take the bridle, he slithered to the ground, almost fainting with exhaustion.
When he had pulled himself together and made his way into the palace, he found the whole family assembled in the big salon. The king and queen were there; the Princess Sidony with her husband, Prince Phillipe, was there; and so was the Princess Angeline and her husband, Prince Tomas.
And they were all looking at a small blob in the center of their circle.
The blob was not an ordinary blob; it was a very young baby. At one end the baby was having her diapers changed by Mirella’s old nurse; at the other end the Princess Sidony was fussing with the baby’s christening robe. Sweetie Pie had been born while her father was away fighting the ogre; she was a girl and about to be christened in Waterfield Cathedral with a great deal of pomp and ceremony.
“Good heavens, it’s Umberto,” said the queen, jumping to her feet. “We thought you had been killed in the battle.” And then: “Have you any news of our poor darling daughter? Have you any news of Mirella?”
“Yes I have,” said Umberto. “I know exactly what has happened to Mirella. But you must prepare yourself.”
“Oh no!” The poor queen looked stricken. “The ogre has eaten her!”
“No. He hasn’t done that. But he has… changed her. Mirella has become a bird. A white bird. I saw her, high in the sky.”
“Oh no! No!” cried the queen. She burst into tears and so did Princess Sidony and Princess Angeline, while the king and the princes looked utterly stricken.