We miss each other and I want to return
home so I can be with them. The narrow, twisty trail to the cove where
our gallant ship is waiting led us into this tunnel. We have no choice but
to follow it. Please let us pass.'
'The ancient Elf has not taken his eyes from the Princess.
'Do you bake?' he wheezes.
'Do I bake?' cries the Princess. 'What do you mean by that? Are you
going to bake me?'
'The Princess, you and I raise our clubs. No one is going to bake our
Princess. No siree, not if we can stop it.
'There is a long silence. The ancient, stooped Elf stares at each of us.
We stare back at him. The crowd of Elves closes around us.
'The old, old Elf smiles.
'I don't mean, do YOU bake, but only do you bake? No, that doesn't
sound right, does it? Can you bake? Can you bake bread and rolls?
There, that's better.'
'Huh,' I say.
'Huh,' you say.
'The Princess looks puzzled. 'What do you mean? Can I bake bread
and rolls? Why do you ask?'
'Everything changes. Instead of being ready to fight for our lives, we're
talking about baking bread and rolls.
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