Unlikely Magic: A Cinderella Retelling (Girl Among Wolves Book 1)

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Unlikely Magic: A Cinderella Retelling (Girl Among Wolves Book 1) Page 17

by Lena Mae Hill


  I don’t know why that seems so different, so loathsome, compared to Mrs. Nguyen becoming a mouse.

  Probably because I can hold her and feed her crumbs, and she won’t try to rip my throat out.

  “Can you be a lookout?” Mrs. Nguyen asks behind me. “I’ll send Stella back for you when we get your father out, if he’s agreeable.”

  “Our father?” Elidi asks, looking bewildered. For once, I’m not the one who knows the least.

  Mrs. Nguyen sighs impatiently. “We’re going to the little village across the mountain to free him.”

  “No,” Elidi says quickly. “You can’t. Shifters are evil. If they catch you, they’ll torture you and—”

  “And they have Dad,” I say flatly.

  “You don’t know what they’re like.”

  “So you come,” Mrs. Nguyen says. “You can help us get him out, since you know them so well.”

  “Once everyone has transitioned, they’ll track us down,” Elidi says, shaking her head. “Trust me, someone will come looking the moment they notice I haven’t come back. They won’t wait for the full shadow.”

  “Then go back,” I say, desperate at the thought of my chance slipping away again. I thought I’d never have another one.

  “No,” she says. “You go. Harmon’s Choosing happens at the height of the eclipse, right before we transition. And I think… I don’t think he would let me walk out of here that easily. But if he thinks I’m there the whole time…”

  “That’s sick,” I say. “He can’t make you marry him.”

  She considers a moment, her eyes narrow. Then she says, “He can do anything he wants. He’ll be Alpha.”

  “I’m going to get your father,” Mrs. Nguyen says, starting off along the path at a pace I never would have dreamed possible for my sedentary babysitter of so many years. “You two fight it out. I don’t have time to solve a sisterly quarrel. I’ve got work to do.”

  Elidi and I take measure of each other.

  “You go back,” she says. “You keep watch. I need to go with your…whatever she is. I can’t let an old woman go into that place alone.”

  “Neither can I.”

  “Stella. Be reasonable. How can you help her?”

  “What if you get hurt?”

  “I can transition and run,” she says. “I won’t fight. I won’t get hurt. I promise.”

  I grab her hand. “She changes into a mouse. Take care of her. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” She turns to follow Mrs. Nguyen, still holding my hand, pulling me along. When I see Mrs. Nguyen’s receding figure, her step determined despite a marked hobble, her shoulders sloped and soft, I’m filled with fierce loyalty.

  “I can’t leave her,” I say. “I’ll come, too. We’ll all go together.”

  “Please, Stella. Trust me this one time? If you go in there, into their territory, you’ll both be caught. And the pack will come looking for me. Let me help. Please. It’s the least I can do after all this time of not doing anything, and letting Mother get the note…” She looks away, chewing at her lip. “Protecting her will be my payment for getting me out.”

  We hurry to catch up to Mrs. Nguyen as she speaks. “I can’t stay here,” I say. “If I stay, they’ll catch me. If I go, that other tribe will. At least I’ll be with you.”

  “If one of us catches you, all they’ll do is chain you up,” she says. “Harmon won’t hurt you.”

  “Harmon hates me. It’s because of me that his father has to…resign, or retire, or whatever you call it.”

  “And it’s because of you that Harmon gets to be Alpha.”

  “Where’s the path?” Mrs. Nguyen asks. “Do you know how to get over there?”

  “It’s right ahead.”

  “You’ve been there?” I ask. “I thought you couldn’t enter enemy territory.”

  “There were a few short truces,” Elidi says. She steps off the trail into the leaves. I don’t see any trail at all, but she seems confident. “Let’s change clothes.”

  “I can’t do this,” I say. “They’ll know it’s me, not you. And they’ll come after you, anyway. There’s no point.”

  “Then you better do it convincingly,” Mrs. Nguyen says. “I don’t want to have two packs hot on our trail. One’s enough.”

  “No one will notice,” Elidi assures me, dropping the shoes and her clutch so she can unzip her dress. “Everyone is having too much fun to pay attention to the way you smell. They won’t notice because they won’t be looking for it. Just stay for an hour and then make an excuse to run home. No one will think twice about it. But you have to get out before the eclipse is total, or they’ll transition and know instantly. A human nose might miss the difference, but a wolf won’t.”

  She’s out of her dress before I can argue, as if I’ve already decided. I look to Mrs. Nguyen for help. “I’ll be back for you,” she says as if reading my mind. “Don’t worry, Stella. We won’t leave you here. But this whole plan depends on you being convincing. So channel the old Stella, will you?”

  “This is crazy,” I say. “You could get caught as easily as I could.”

  “She’s a mouse,” Elidi says. “I think she’ll be okay. Now hurry and give me your clothes. You need to get back before they start to wonder about me.”

  She grabs the bottom of my sweatshirt and helps me pull it and my t-shirt over my head. This is crazy. It is. But if it’s the best way to get Dad, if they can somehow free him, I’ll do whatever I have to do. Even if it means walking into a pack of angry werewolves who hate my guts.

  Elidi rolls my shirts down over her head and picks up my shorts. My bare skin prickles in the evening chill. I step into her dress, holding it up over my chest while Mrs. Nguyen zips me in.

  “What about the makeup?” I ask, starting to panic. “I don’t look like you tonight.”

  “Makeup,” she says, picking up the clutch and pressing it into my hand. “I brought a little white cardigan in case I got cold. It’s on the picnic table next to the pavilion. Everyone put their coats there. Use that, and then say you need something warmer and run back towards the house. Then follow this trail over the mountain. It leads straight to the shifter valley. Trust me, Stella, you’ll be fine.”

  I don’t feel fine. I feel like I’m about to hurl. This is the worst idea ever. But I can’t bring myself to tell Elidi that it won’t be that easy for me to be her. That unlike her other sister, I don’t really know her. I don’t know how she acts with her friends, how she talks to them, how she is. I don’t know how to talk to people anymore, how to be normal. I have the social skills of a fourteen-year-old hermit.

  “What if someone asks me a question?” I ask, clinging to Elidi’s arm.

  “Like what?” she asks. “Everyone has literally known me since the day I was born. Trust me, they won’t ask you anything you can’t answer.”

  “Okay,” I say weakly. I don’t know how I thought I could invade enemy territory to rescue my father. I can’t even walk up to a bonfire with my friends—or people who will think I am their friend. It’s like starting at a new high school on the night of prom.

  “What about my eyes?” I ask, grabbing her arm. Her eyes are a deep muddy brown, almost black.

  She bites her lip, her eyes wide as she searches for a way to disguise my eyes. She’s probably never heard of colored contacts, and she definitely doesn’t have access to them.

  “I’ll take care of that,” Mrs. Nguyen says. Without waiting for permission, she covers my eyes with her hand. A strange tingling sensation swirls across my eyes as she chants, “I call on the power of disguise, to create the illusion of your sister’s eyes.”

  When she pulls her hand back, Elidi smiles and clasps her hands. “Perfect!”

  “Glad to see disguises are as easy as ever,” Mrs. Nguyen says with a satisfied smile.

  Elidi quickly undoes my braid and shakes my hair loose, arranging it around my shoulders. “Can you do your own makeup?”

  Mrs. Nguyen snorts. �
��She can do her own makeup.”

  “Do I look this pretty?” Elidi asks, holding me at arm’s length and looking me over like a proud mother about to cry.

  “Prettier,” I say, squeezing her arms, my eyes prickling. This is her night, her moment, her dress. All wasted on me. I feel so selfish suddenly. She’s going to risk her life for a father she doesn’t remember, my father, and I’m going to a party.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, taking both her hands in mine. “You can have ten of these when we get out of here.”

  She nods, sniffling and smiling at once. Mrs. Nguyen looks from her to me and back. “Make sure you put on that makeup,” she says. “And let me have this.” Before I can ask what she’s talking about, she circles behind me and starts undoing the knot in the string I’ve use for my necklace since the clasp broke. I almost cry out when I feel the stone leave my chest. Fighting back the urge to snatch it back, I swallow hard and nod. I can’t wear that necklace to the coronation. Harmon has shown it to everyone in the community.

  It doesn’t go with the dress, anyway.

  “I’ll just keep this safe for you,” Mrs. Nguyen says. Then she winks at me. “You’ll have to spin your own magic tonight.”

  Elidi reaches behind her neck and undoes the clasp of her own necklace, an elaborate blue one that matches her dress. She fastens it around my neck and smiles at me again. “Good luck,” she whispers.

  “Let’s get going,” Mrs. Nguyen says. “We’ve got a job to do.” She leans in and gives me a loud kiss on the cheek, her lips cold. “Don’t forget to come and meet us on the road before the moon is fully covered.”

  As I watch them walk away into the woods, I have to stop myself from chasing after them, begging them not to leave me. I can feel Elidi moving away from me, like a thread being unspooled between us. It’s stronger than I’ve felt it in years, since I first saw them transition. It almost stopped after that. But now, I can trace her path on an invisible map in my head. Maybe this is why Mrs. Nguyen said I was good at projection, though the only out-of-body experiences I’ve had have been nightmares.

  Knowing I can watch over my sister this way comforts me a little. I open her little clutch to find a powder compact, mascara, and lipstick. It will have to be enough. After all, I have a job to do, too. I’m going undercover.

  6

  Ten minutes later, made up and having done the best I can with the sandal strap, I step out onto the wide dirt path. I tied the broken strap, but it barely reaches the buckle, and the knot digs into the side of my foot with every step. I hardly feel it. I’m so nervous I don’t know if I’ll make it to the coronation at all.

  At the edge of the clearing I freeze. Everyone is milling around, excitement charging the air. Everyone is dressed to the nines. Everyone has a circular tribal tattoo on her shoulder. I don’t the one mark that labels me as one of them. I should turn and run right now, forget this whole charade. But then my eyes fall on at picnic table piled with coats and sweaters. Elidi’s cardigan is there. If it will bring my father back, I have to try.

  All I have to do is make it to the far side of the pavilion where people are eating. Just a few steps. I can do this. Steeling myself, I step forward, trying to walk the way Elidi would walk. But she’d go bounding in with all the exuberance of a puppy, and my legs are shaking so hard I can only manage a wobbling walk.

  I fix my eyes on the soft white sleeve hanging off the edge of the table, an eternity away. My shoulder is freezing, as if someone rubbed Icy Hot on it. I’m sure it must be sending a beacon of frosty, electric blue light into the night around me. When I glance down, it seems to glow brighter than the rest of my fair skin in the quickening twilight, to reflect more of the firelight. I cross the midpoint, the corner of the pavilion.

  This isn’t quite the warm, family gathering I witnessed last time, with the lull of murmuring voices creating a feeling of community and togetherness. This is a party.

  Everyone is talking and laughing over each other. A burst of laughter and whoops of joy fill the air, and I flinch, squeezing my hands into fists and praying I’ll make it to the cardigan before anyone notices me. They’re all so busy having a good time that I start to think no one will. I’m so close. Another ten steps.

  Nine, eight.

  “El-lee ba-by,” Harmon calls.

  I hesitate, my feet stumbling in time with my heart.

  Seven, six.

  “There you are.” His voice is closer now, right behind me. I can feel the heat pulsing off him, climbing my back. Should I turn to him or keep walking? What would Elidi do? Defy or obey?

  Five, four.

  His hand falls on my shoulder, and I almost scream. My heart is exploding. Has he seen it? His huge hand is covering my bare, naked, tattooless shoulder. It’s so hot my skin vibrates.

  I suck in a thin stream of air and raise my eyes to his, expecting the burning hatred of a guy who might kill me tonight, when it becomes his right to do so. But he’s smiling down into my eyes in a way he’d never smile at me. To him, I’m Elidi, not an imposter. I really am a mirror now. After all these years of enduring their horror and disgust and not knowing why, I am finally fulfilling my destiny, mirroring my sister.

  The thought makes me smile, and he must take it as a smile meant for him, because his gets wider, revealing every tooth in his mouth. Every perfect white tooth in his gorgeous mouth. How am I supposed to do this for the next hour? This is the worst idea ever. But it’s too late to go back, because we’re at the table now, without having counted the last steps. I snatch the white sleeve and pull out the sweater. It’s almost enough to make me weep. Because it isn’t Elidi’s cute little shrunken cardigan. It’s a big bulky man’s sweater.

  “Are you cold?” Harmon asks. “Let’s go sit by the fire.”

  “I want my sweater.” I curse myself when he takes his hand off my shoulder to help me dig through the pile of coats and sweaters of all sizes and colors. I try not to dig too frantically or scream in frustration when one after another is not mine. Not Elidi’s. As we search, the silence grows heavier and heavier, like raindrops collecting on a spider web, threatening to break it at any moment. I just know he’s going to look up and catch sight of my shoulder, now that it’s not hidden under his massive hand. I know it.

  “Found it,” he says triumphantly, holding up the tiny white cardigan.

  I reach for it, hoping he doesn’t notice my shaking fingers and the depth of gratitude in my voice when I thank him. But at the last second, he pulls it back. I’m sure he’s going to play one of those stupid games boys play, holding it just out of reach and making me jump for it.

  Instead, he holds it up for me to put my arms in. I freeze, certain he’s seen. He’s messing with me, waiting until my back is turned, when he’ll rip my throat out. After a second, when I don’t move, he steps forward, so close he could lean down and kiss me. His eyes are locked on mine as he swings the cardigan over my head and drapes it around my shoulders like a cape. I clutch it together in front, searching his face for a flicker of uncertainty, a question, a hardening.

  But his eyes are soft as water, a cool ocean washing over me, soothing me away from my trembling relief at having finally covered my shoulders. Now, it’s up to me to pull this off. I have no excuses, no outward tells.

  Harmon rubs his hands up and down my arms. “You are cold,” he says, his voice warm with such familiarity and love. Another wave of guilt washes over me. I took this from Elidi. Does she know how lucky she is, that every girl in the whole huge world outside of this valley wants someone to look at her this way? And she’s giving up someone who does, and a beautiful someone. Someone who is important, but not so important that he doesn’t remember what sweater she wore to the party.

  While she’s off pursuing our escape, I’m here soaking up his love like a parched sponge. Craving it. Waiting for it to consume me the way it did when he kissed me.

  “Harmon, come back,” demands a girl’s sweet, luring voice. A bolt of pure hatred fl
ashes through me when he steps back and turns to obey her command. It’s Rochelle, the black girl. She’s wearing a chocolate-brown satin bodycon dress with ruching up the sides. It hugs her every curve. Her hair is piled in a fountain of tight coils on top of her head, the same deep brown of her dress with the highlights gleaming like copper wire in the firelight. She’s sure of herself, as royal as a queen, like he’s already chosen her.

  Maybe he did. He could have told her ahead of time, that she was the one he would choose. Suddenly I wonder how sure Elidi was that he’d choose her. Maybe it was all a ploy to get me to agree with her plan. I can’t blame her. I’d do anything to get out of here, too. For all I know, Harmon looks at every girl in that same soft way, lulling her to comfort before he breaks her heart.

  “Come on,” he says to me, his eyes catching mine for just a beat. When he turns to join Rochelle, I slip my arms into the sleeves of the sweater and finally relax the teensiest bit. But now that Harmon has walked away to join the others, I feel lost, completely alone. I no longer remember how to insert myself into a group from the outside.

  But I’m not an outsider, I remind myself. I’m Elidi. I belong. I can stop being Stella, the attic mouse, and start being Elidi, the werewolf. The more I believe it, the easier it will be to make them believe it. So I force my feet to carry me forward, to bounce in my step like I’m bursting with excitement, even as the knot in my sandal strap bites painfully into my foot.

  I edge in next to Xiu, who’s wearing a royal blue dress with a tight bodice and a flouncy skirt that barely covers her butt. But with her petite figure, she pulls it off perfectly. I hang back a step, not quite able to shove my way fully into the circle. I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself than I have to. I’ll be the quiet version of Elidi.

  “Look what we got,” Zora sing-songs, mincing her way over in her tight yellow gown. She’s carrying four red plastic cups in each hand, and Fernando has another four in his hand. They pass them around the circle, and I almost shrink back, knowing they won’t include me. But Xiu turns to pass me a cup, and I remember that I’m not me. I’m Elidi. So I take a cup of warm apple cider and start to lift it to my mouth, but I notice the others are waiting, so I lower the cup. I caught the mistake before I slipped up.

 

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