The only things Elliot didn't hate were his shoes. They fit him perfectly and were very comfortable. Elliot tugged at his shirt. Maybe if he didn't tuck it in, it wouldn't look so much like something his great-great-great-great-grandpa would've worn while picking up cow pies on the plains.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Mr. Willimaker said. "We'll find some patterns for modern-day boys so that next time you're kidnapped--"
"Next time?" Elliot asked. "Thanks for the clothes, but next time I'd like to come to the Underworld on my own."
Fudd entered the room. "King Elliot? Dinner is ready. We're eating outside, where you'll be most comfortable."
Elliot nodded. If he was half starved before, then he was all the way starved by now. He forgot all about his clothes and followed Fudd outside. He expected most of the Brownies to be at the royal feast, but he had no idea how many Brownies there were. When he had used the Brownies to help end the Goblin war, the stronger ones had come, but the rest had stayed back.
"Is this all of them?" Elliot whispered to Mr. Willimaker.
"We know you'd rather be home," Mr. Willimaker said, "but for us Brownies, the king has come and today is a holiday. Everyone wants to see you."
A cheer rose through the crowd when they saw Elliot enter. Long rows of tables lined a large grassy field. Hundreds of Brownies of every size and age stood near the tables. Babies sat on their fathers' shoulders. Younger Brownie children stood on chairs to get a better look at their king. The only thing the Brownies all had in common was their various shades of gray hair, sticking up in wild directions. Together, they looked like a field of unmowed gray grass. Elliot had never guessed there would be so many of them.
At the head of the crowd, a table had been specially built for Elliot. Fudd pulled at Elliot's bulky sleeve and said, "We tried to have a throne made for you, but there just wasn't time. We did find a giant toadstool that was about your size."
The royal toadstool was in front of Elliot's seat at the table. A red satin cloth lay over the top for him to sit on, and blue flower petals surrounded the base of it. "Looks comfortable," Elliot said, grinning. "This is a great throne."
He went to sit, but Mr. Willimaker touched his arm. "Aren't you going to say anything to the Brownies?"
"Huh? Oh, sure." Elliot faced the Brownies, who all fell to their knees when they saw he was about to speak. "You don't have to do that," he said. Slowly they rose again, and he continued, "Um, so thanks for letting me be your king. I'll try to do a good job."
The Brownies cheered again and a cry rose up of "Long live King Elliot!"
"That was quite a speech," Mr. Willimaker said. "Very inspirational and, uh, easy to remember."
"Now it's time to eat," Fudd said. "I hope you're hungry."
Elliot was so hungry that he was almost ready to eat his shirt (which might be one good way to get rid of it). Back at home, if there was ever any decent food, you had to grab it fast before someone else got it. But here, Elliot noticed, the Brownies were waiting for him to eat first. The only time Elliot's family had waited for him to eat first was last April Fool's Day, when the twins had switched the sugar and salt. Elliot was three bites into his cold cereal before he realized that wasn't sugar on his flakes.
When Elliot was seated on his royal toadstool, then the Brownies sat. Immediately a Brownie woman put a plate of food in front of him. It was full of bread, a yellowish fruit, and a lot of green vegetables Elliot didn't recognize. All the Brownies were watching him, including the woman who had just served him.
"Yum." Elliot picked up his fork and took a bite of the green vegetables. They tasted like Kyle and Cole's mud pies, only with the unexpected aftertaste of peppermint. "Mmmmm," he said, doing his best to convince the woman that he liked the strange food. "Really good."
There probably weren't any Quack Shacks in the Underworld. Too bad. French fries sounded great right now.
"Have you tried the turnip juice yet?" Mr. Willimaker asked.
It looked like apple juice, but it was more syrupy, and Elliot thought he saw a turnip root floating on top of his juice. But he put on a smile, lifted his cup, and said, "Cheers!"
Mr. Willimaker toasted Elliot in return, and they both drank. Elliot's plan was to finish the whole thing in one awful gulp, but he was surprised at his first taste that it wasn't bad. Not that he'd want to replace chocolate milk with turnip juice or anything, but he wouldn't mind it so much if they gave him some more.
"That turnip juice is sort of like me," said a woman walking up to him. "We're both better than we first appear."
Elliot looked up. "Agatha!"
The first time Elliot had met Agatha, she was a has-been Hag who couldn't quite get her curses to work. She was also the closest thing to what Elliot imagined a real witch might look like. After a few days, Agatha had remembered how to curse again, and eventually Elliot saw what a truly beautiful woman she was.
Beside Elliot, Mr. Willimaker stood and greeted her with a polite bow. "Agatha, we weren't expecting you."
"The king of the Brownies finally comes to the Underworld. I wouldn't miss this moment," she said, then pointed a crooked finger at Mr. Willimaker. "But for forgetting to invite me, this curse I leave with you today: I am a Hag and here's what I think. You'll find some trouble when you take a drink."
Mr. Willimaker looked at his cup of turnip juice, frowned, and then pushed it aside, just to be safe.
Fudd jumped up and pulled out his chair on the other side of Elliot. "Take my chair, please, my lady."
"I can't stay," Agatha said. "I just need to speak to Elliot for a moment."