by Emma Savant
Imogen had a thousand and one talents, but responding to texts when she was busy was not one of them.
I pressed the elevator button and waited, my toes practically dancing in my shoes.
Wishes Fulfilled was hidden on the top floor of a performing arts center downtown. An elevator no Humdrums ever seemed to notice was our only way in and out, and I rode down to the first floor while visions of rich soil, healthy leaves, and popcorn at the movies danced through my head.
The doors slid open to the lobby.
I wasn’t surprised to see Imogen standing there. She’d had afternoon shifts lately. But the person with her was the last one I’d expected to see.
Lucas.
A thrill flooded through me. I should have known Imogen would come through and find a way to push us together. She was the best.
I took a deep breath and geared myself up to wave or say hi or otherwise not trip all over myself when he looked over at me.
But he didn’t look over.
“Have a good day,” Lucas said to Imogen. He touched her arm. His hand lingered just a second longer than it should have.
“Thanks,” Imogen said. She smiled at him. There wasn’t anything unusual about the way she did it, but abruptly, the pit of my stomach was lined with lead. “You too.”
The simple exchange was enough to make me wish the elevator had just kept going down and through the floor, taking me with it. I stood, frozen. The bubbling tension of flirtation fizzed between them.
What was she doing? She didn’t like him that way, but she knew I did. She’d told me to hold off so I wouldn’t be a rebound. I’d told her he was taking me to a movie and it might even be a date.
So why was she picking imaginary lint off his shoulder and biting her lip like she was waiting for him to lean in and kiss her?
And then he did. A tiny, light peck on the lips, just enough to send panic rushing through my veins.
My skin prickled. This couldn’t be right.
The elevator doors clicked and began sliding shut. Instinctively, my hand flew out just in time to stop them, and Imogen turned at the sound. Her face changed only for a moment, but a moment was all I needed. I wasn’t the world’s greatest faerie, but even I could see the guilt that flashed across her features a split second before her cheerful smile.
No wonder she hadn’t texted me back.
My throat closed. In an instant, every floating, happy feeling I’d had was gone. I closed my eyes tight and held them like that for a long second.
I couldn’t cry. Not in front of them.
“Hey, Liv!” Imogen said. Her voice was a few shades too bright, but none of the brightness managed to make it onto her face. She was pale. “I ran into Lucas just up the street!”
He grinned and nodded at me, hands in his pockets. He didn’t look guilty. But then, he didn’t have a reason to be. He hadn’t known. He’d probably assumed the movie was just as friends.
And he had probably assumed that because I was nervous and insecure and stupid enough to have taken Imogen’s advice when she’d told me to play it cool.
Why had she told me that?
A long, awkward pause stretched out between us. Finally, Lucas rocked back on his heels and said, “Well, I’d better get going.”
He looked between Imogen and me, the question vague on his face. “See you guys later?”
Neither of us moved to stop him.
“Sure,” Imogen finally said. “See you later.”
I couldn’t make myself speak.
I watched him go, his tall figure casual and slouching in jeans and a dark green hoodie that almost matched the trees across the street.
Silence hung thick between us. I willed it to grow thicker, to pad the air so heavily that I couldn’t hear her say what I already knew.
We stared at each other, each of us waiting for the other one to move first.
I had trusted her. I’d just told her about my parents. She’d told me to leave Lucas alone barely two weeks ago.
My bottom lip began to tremble. I tried to find the words, but nothing would come out.
I could not cry in front of her. I couldn’t cry until I figured out what the hell was happening here.
As I looked at her, my blood began to simmer.
Her skin flushed. A twisting guilt mangled the air around her. Even from this distance, I felt the way the emotion kneaded at her skin and nudged her every time she dared to breathe. I felt it, and I didn’t try to stop it.
The stupid, curious part of myself—the part that sometimes checked to see if fire was still hot and knives were still sharp—had to know.
“What happened?” I said. My voice trembled, so I shut up, fast.
Imogen rolled her lips, like she was trying to press exactly the right words out between them.
“We got to talking the other day,” she said. Her voice was low, but it travelled across the empty lobby. “He’s having a hard time without Aubrey. He said talking to me helped him.”
I let the silence settle back around us.
“That’s nice, but that’s not what I asked,” I said finally.
I’d watched Imogen spin words around other people too many times. She was good. She could say all the right things and make people think her decisions were their ideas.
I lowered my glasses to watch her for any signs of a glamour. I wasn’t about to fall for one of her tricks.
“Liv,” she said.
I didn’t get mad at her often. I didn’t get mad at her ever. But I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and I knew she could too.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “We hooked up last night.” Hurriedly, she added, “Just kissing. Nothing else, I swear.”
Just kissing.
My best friend had been “just kissing” the guy she knew I’d been daydreaming about for months. My best friend had “run into him up the street,” and somehow he’d ended up walking her to work. My best friend had told me not to say anything to him yet, then turned around and jumped right into his arms.
Fury swirled up in me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time but still recognized as faerie and dangerous. The anger tingled down my arms while pain clenched at my stomach.
No one would ever look at me the way Kyle looked at Elle. And why should they? I wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t talented. I wasn’t Imogen, and I never would be.
But at least I wasn’t a liar.
I clenched my fists to stop my fingertips from sparking magic. “Are you dating him?” I said.
My voice came out cooler than I expected. I pressed my tongue hard against the backs of my front teeth and forced myself to hold still.
Imogen’s shoulders lifted just barely. “I don’t know,” she said. “Kind of. Yeah.”
I stared at her.
“I was going to tell you,” she said. A tiny flare of anger flickered up from her to match my own. “I’m not a jerk. I just wanted to wait for the right time. I didn’t want you to freak out like this.”
“You didn’t want me to freak out,” I repeated.
Heat prickled up the back of my neck. She’d always sworn she wasn’t into Humdrum guys.
“Of course not,” she said. “You’re my friend. And no offense, but you kind of freak out over a lot of stuff.”
I freaked out? She was the one having daily meltdowns over her sister’s wedding. She was the one who’d kept me up until two in the morning panicking the night before her Proctor Exam. She was the one who had kissed Lucas.
“Like what?” I snapped. “My best friend lying to me, maybe?”
“Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not like you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. What, you’ve never kept a secret? You’ve never lied? Ever?”
She glared at me.
I glared right back. My wonderful day lay in shards around me.
She deflated, just barely. “Look, I know you kind of had a thing for him,” she said. “It just happened, okay?”
“Are you going t
o make it un-happen?” I said.
She bristled. “Excuse me, but you don’t own him,” she said. “Lucas likes me.” She spread out her arms like she was somehow innocent. “I don’t know what you want me to do about that.”
“I want you have a little respect for me,” I said.
“Being the youngest faerie godmother ever doesn’t actually mean you get to control everyone’s else’s romantic decisions, Liv. Sorry. But don’t worry about it. Give it a year and you’ll be off at your stupid Humdrum college and will have forgotten all about us.”
A dozen answers popped into my head, every last one of them worthy of Reginald Feye himself. I took a deep breath, forcing the heat back down into my stomach. I wasn’t worried about saying something I’d regret—I was worried I’d say something vicious and never regret it at all.
I’d trusted her. I’d spent the last few days happily trusting her like an idiot and looking forward to something going right in my life, for once.
That was my mistake.
It wouldn’t happen again.
Chapter Eight
Whenever my life had hit a snag, I’d always gone to Imogen for help.
But now she was the problem. Where exactly was I supposed to turn? Lucas was my next best friend after Imogen, and he was so beyond out of the question it wasn’t even funny. Talking to my parents or Daniel about my boy troubles was a joke.
I didn’t have any other real friends, I realized, staring out my window across the moonlit rooftop garden of the house next door. I had acquaintances and casual friends from school or Glimmering events. I had Elle, who was a former client I happened to like. But none of them were friends.
Years ago, Lucas had been special enough that I’d gone to the trouble of hiding the magic around my house and making my family keep their spells to themselves, but not everyone was worth that kind of effort. And it was weird, trying to make friends with other Glims. They all knew who my dad was, and the few times I’d tried bringing one of them home, they’d either spent the whole time asking me what it was like to be famous or skulking around after him like I wasn’t even there.
Imogen had been my safe place. Imogen had been my protector when people were rude. She’d been the force driving me out to parties and events where I might have a shot at meeting the nice Glims. And she’d been the one I went to when I had guy trouble. Without her, my life was made of holes.
A cloud slipped in front of the full moon, washing the neighbor’s garden in darkness. I pushed away from the window.
I needed a faerie godmother. It wasn’t enough to be one on days like this. But I was the godmother. The only person who could possibly rescue me was—
I froze, frowning. Was it reasonable? Was it right, to trouble her with something as minor-league as this?
Did I care?
I threw a jacket over my arm and headed for the door.
The back of my neck prickled.
In front of me, down a flight of wide, large steps, the Oracle’s Fountain burbled. Glassy sheets of water poured over stone blocks. The water seemed to whisper on its way down, as though the Oracle were already dispensing the advice I so desperately needed.
She was my boss’s boss’s boss, second in authority only to the Faerie Queen. She paid gold pieces in exchange for successfully resolved Stories and was tasked with keeping the city in balance. I didn’t quite get how it all worked, or everything her job involved, or even who she was, but I did know this: The Oracle was one of our leaders, and she was wise, all-knowing, and good.
And unlike Queen Amani, she was there to counsel any Glim who needed her.
Imogen had stopped at this Fountain dozens of times when I’d been with her, always to ask for a bottle of enchanted water or a bit of good luck. But I’d never joined her, always preferring to watch.
I was done watching Imogen while life passed me by.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a faint movement. A woman in her thirties, wearing a long brown coat, stood under a tree not far away with her arms wrapped around herself. She glanced at me, eyes narrow and calculating. I smiled and nodded toward the Fountain, and she relaxed, though her arms stayed tight in a hug-like barrier. I was one of us, and that made her feel safer.
I couldn’t figure out why, though—it wasn’t like Humdrums could see the Oracle’s Fountain when it sprang to life anyway. Even as a Glim, I wouldn’t see what she saw when she took her turn, not unless the Oracle allowed me to be part of the encounter.
My phone said 11:58. I put it back in my pocket and watched, counting the seconds in my head. Just as I hit one hundred and three—I’d been counting slow—the Fountain erupted in a magnificent spray of water.
The woman across from me looked my way, ready to fight for her spot, but I gestured her to go ahead. She hurried up to the front of the water and I turned away to give her privacy.
It was hard to turn my back on the Fountain, especially when I heard the woman’s low murmuring voice. Even though I’d spoken to the Oracle before, curiosity gnawed at me.
I caught the words he’s Humdrum and won’t give up. She sounded impassioned, if quiet. It sounded like Lily wasn’t the only one with inter-species relationship drama, and I wished both of them would snap out of it already.
I stepped further away to keep myself from eavesdropping, then entertained myself by counting the windows in the front of the Wishes Fulfilled building and sliding my glasses on and off to make the glamoured top floor disappear and reappear.
A hand tapped my shoulder. Startled, I spun to see the woman in the brown coat. “Your turn,” she said, voice low, then walked off into the Portland night, her sensible heels thudding on the sidewalk.
The Fountain seemed to grow as I approached, its glamour shimmering and glowing and making the water sparkle as though stars had tumbled from the sky and into its pools. I didn’t need to take off my glasses; even elf-made glass couldn’t disguise something the Oracle wanted me to see. Her pale, shadowed face looked out at me from behind a curtain of water, so faintly that it may as well have been my own reflection.
“Olivia Feye,” she said, her melodic voice echoing inside my head. “We meet again. I had intended to speak with you. I see you intuited my summons.”
That was a new one.
I shoved my hands into my back pockets, then pulled them out again and twisted them together.
“I didn’t realize you were going to summon me,” I said. “Did you want to talk about my case? Because I’ve got this one under control, actually.”
The Oracle had been the only person to think my last case had gone well. Why would she want to give me advice this time? Maybe she figured lightning couldn’t strike twice.
“You do not have it under control,” she said. The pale face behind the waterfall remained tranquil. “You were given flawed advice. Your superiors plan to redirect the mermaid’s wishes, is that correct?”
She knew it was correct. She was the Oracle. But I nodded.
“That is unwise,” she said. “Their intentions are, of course, excellent. But even for the most gifted among us, it is easy to forget our role. What is your job as a faerie godmother?”
“To grant wishes and guide Stories,” I said.
That had been our job for centuries: to find likely candidates and guide them through one of the thousands of Stories that had been lived over and over for hundreds of years. The Stories were called “fairy tales” by Humdrums, who hadn’t failed to notice the patterns being lived out by their Glimmering neighbors.
“Your role is to resolve Stories, not to pass judgment on them,” she said. Her voice was like silk.
That was the rule I had heard over and over, and had never quite known whether to agree with. But it was the Oracle’s mantra, I reminded myself. It wasn’t up to me to agree.
“The godmothers above you did wrong by deciding they and their politics know better than the Story,” the Oracle continued. “The Story is always right. This must be remembered.”
&nbs
p; “If I can redirect her, though, isn’t that a new Story?” I said. I pressed my lips together. It was audacious to correct the Oracle. But I couldn’t stop the words from escaping. “If she switches from a Little Mermaid Archetype, we’ll have to go to Queen Amani. The Faerie Queen has to sign off on all Story changes after a godparent’s gotten involved.”
Queen Amani was the ultimate ruler of our world. But the Oracle was in charge of Stories. Who had final say?
“There will be no Story change,” the Oracle said. “She is a Little Mermaid, and she will remain one. However, I will speak with Queen Amani to ensure things go smoothly. Lily and Evan must be together.”
“Or die tragically,” I said. “Evan’s already engaged to someone.”
My teeth snapped back together. What was wrong with me?
“That will be a challenge, but I trust you will overcome it,” the Oracle said. She sounded almost wry. “I advise you not to consult with your supervisor, Lorinda, on this. She has done well by me, but convincing her to go against the Sea King will take time, and I should like to hold her blameless in his eyes in any case. And now, I sense you need advice on a personal problem.”
My case had just become my personal problem—how was I going to explain this to Lorinda? Or the Sea King, for that matter? And why was it okay for all the blame to fall on me?
A few silent seconds ticked by. I didn’t know how much time the Oracle would give me.
“My best friend just started dating this guy I’ve been interested in,” I said.
A thunderous wave of idiocy washed over me. No one, in the history of ever, had bothered the Oracle with something this stupid.
But she tilted her head, interested.
“Betrayal,” she said. She blinked, her black eyes appearing white for an instant beneath the water. “How unfortunate.”
I ran one hand along my arm, feeling the goosebumps under my light jacket.
“I don’t know what to do about it,” I said. “Imogen and I have been friends forever, but I’m so angry at her. How am I supposed to handle this?”
