by Jen Calonita
Kayla’s button nose scrunches tight. “He doesn’t need a reason!” she snaps. “Sorry. It’s a touchy subject.” She stares out our tiny, stained-glass window into the moonlight. “The last time I saw them was the day before I left for FTRS,” she says quietly. “Mother asked me to go to the village to get rolls for my last dinner at home. She said the dinner was to celebrate the beginning of my new life.” Kayla rolls her eyes. “I hated her for saying that. I told her FTRS was her way of trying to get rid of me, and she denied it.” Kayla looks down at her nails, which have sparkly blue polish on them.
“We had a huge fight, and when I came back, she was gone.” Her voice is hollow. “She, my sisters, the hollow tree we lived in, the garden where we grew turnips. Gone. As if none of it—or us—ever existed.” Kayla slumps against the wall ’til she looks like a crumpled dress on the floor. “When I tried to find them, a peddler told me he saw Rumpelstiltskin make them disappear.”
I’m too stunned to speak. I sit down next to Kayla, waiting for her to cry. She doesn’t. I’m not a big hugger, but at a moment like this, it seems appropriate. I awkwardly put an arm around her and squeeze. “I’m so sorry.” I mean it.
“Thanks.” Kayla pulls away from me and traces a yellow starburst on the wall with her finger. I have a feeling she painted it. “It’s been three years now.”
Three years without a family. Without a home. How did she survive? “You’ve been here that long?” No wonder this room looks so lived in.
“I was on my own for a while.” Kayla’s face has an eerie glow in the low light. “I tried to find them, and to survive, I sold illegal goods like the fake handbags I’m always selling to Flora’s foolish daughters, Azalea and Dahlia. Eventually the dwarf police caught up with me and sent me here.”
Hearing Kayla’s story makes me want to write to Anna. I wonder if she’s doing okay without me. Do she, Trixie, Han, Hammish, and Felix have enough to eat? How could I have let myself get caught and mess up their only chance at having a decent meal every night? Han is probably so hungry that he’s crying. I’m so mad at myself. I—
“Do you hear violins?” I ask.
Kayla groans. “Yes. I should have warned you.” She quickly stands up. “Our downstairs neighbors, Eunice and Beatrice, like to practice their violins at bedtime.”
I listen to them play. “They’re pretty good.”
Kayla gives me a look. “You say that now, but you won’t in a few days.” She stomps on the floor loudly. I join in. “Keep it down!” The music stops, and we high-five. Thankfully, Kayla is smiling again. Our conversation about her family is seemingly forgotten.
Then the violins start again. They’re louder.
Kayla growls. “They wouldn’t!” Her wings appear almost instantly.
I wince as Eunice—or Beatrice—begins to play off key. I’m not sure if it’s on purpose. “They’re making a stand.”
“Well, we’re not going to let them get away with it.” Kayla grabs her wand and grins mischievously. “Miri has to be asleep. So how do you feel about a little dance party?” She flicks her wand, and loud music fills our room.
I grab Kayla’s hand and stomp away, the two of us spinning in a circle ’til all my worries disappear.
Pegasus Postal Service
Flying Letters Since The Troll War!
FROM: Gillian Cobbler (Fairy Tale Reform School*)
*Letter checked for suspicious content
TO: Anna Cobbler (2 Boot Way)
Dear Anna Banana,
I guess you’ve figured out by now that I’m going to be here awhile—at least three months. I’m so sorry I messed up your birthday. I just want you to have everything I don’t, but I promise I’ll figure out a better way to do that than swiping from royals. I’ve only been here a few days, but FTRS doesn’t seem that bad so far. For the first time ever, I sort of have my own room. You’d love the dorm. You get your own bed and no one leaves smelly socks on the floor. I can picture you hanging up one of your Rapunzel ads and putting Grandma’s mirror on your dresser. (Yes, we have dressers! Not sacks hanging from the wall with all our clothes.)
If this wasn’t a reform school, I’d send for you immediately. I do have some good news: Headmistress Flora says if I behave, you guys can come for the princess ball. Take care of the family for me. And watch Han and Hamish around that new shoe polish Mother made. It may smell like gum, but trust me, it doesn’t taste like it.
Love, Gilly
Happily Ever After Scrolls
Brought to you by FairyWeb—magically appearing on scrolls throughout Enchantasia for the past ten years!
Meet the Wolf Man!*
by Beatrice Beez
Name: Xavier Wolfington (formerly known as “the Wolf”)
Occupation: Professor of history at Fairy Tale Reform School
Hobbies: Meditation, yoga, and putting the pedal to the metal in spin class at Hansel and Gretel’s Power Gym
Strengths: Lightning fast on two or four feet, keen sense of smell, bronze medal in the Enchantasia Olympics for long jump
Weakness: Silver bullets
Likes: Peace and quiet, reading history books. Rumored to be writing a book on the psychological effects of the Troll War
Dislikes: Talk of his former life (Never ever mention Granny!)
Still a mystery: Where he disappears every full moon
Love life: There was that rumored romance with a fairy, but as far as we know, Professor Wolfington is currently single
*Xavier Wolfington declined to be interviewed for this story. All opinions expressed in this story are Happily Ever After Scrolls’ own.
CHAPTER 9
You’ve Been Schooled
“Good morning, class.”
“Good morning, Professor Wolfington,” the entire class says in unison.
I can’t help staring at my history professor—and not just because he’s a wolf man who could eat me for breakfast. I still can’t get the image out of my head of what happened last week. Professor Wolfington leaped two whole stories to stop Jax. I tend to avoid people who could kill me with one furry paw–I mean, hand! I can see the Wolf’s forearms bulging through his ruffled dress shirt right now. He must work out.
“Since our three-part assembly Magic: The Good and Evil of It took the place of class last week, I haven’t heard about your weekend.” Wolfington walks around the classroom. “What did you all do?”
A teacher caring about our lives outside class? Wow, this place is different.
This classroom is the prettiest one I have class in. No creepy gargoyles staring at me while I fumble for an answer. This room reminds me of a church with its stained-glass floor-to-ceiling windows showing famous moments in Enchantasia history. There’s one of Ella’s wedding, one of Rose awakening from her slumber, and a picture of Rapunzel in her tower. I could stare at those windows for hours…and at those brass rings holding back the velvet drapes. If those babies are real, I could fetch a pretty penny for them at Arabian Nights Pawn Shop.
“I had a really nice weekend, Professor!” says Maxine. She’s so much larger than many of my classmates that her knees barely fit under her desk. “My friends and I had a picnic near the remains of Galmour Castle.”
“Like you have any friends,” I hear Jocelyn mumble from across the classroom.
That witch really gets under my skin.
“Excellent, Miss Maxine!” Wolfington says. “Anyone else?”
A pretty raven-haired mermaid in a fish tank holds up a mirror. I watch as words magically appear on it. It says: “Went deep-sea fishing and found where Prince Harrison’s ship wrecked. I am going to write my next report on him.”
“Good, Miss Clara!” Professor Wolfington says approvingly. “If you want to write an essay for extra credit, you can. I won’t be assigning another paper for two weeks.”
A pixie si
tting on an oversized desk glares at Clara. She’s had her hand up for a while, but I’m not sure Professor Wolfington saw it. Her hand is pretty tiny.
“I went canoeing down Quarry Cannon,” says a gnome in a pointy hat that has funny fake ogre ears glued to the sides. “That guidebook you gave me was awesome. Who knew how many sites were left over from the Troll War?”
Why is everyone here kissing up to the Wolf? Are they that scared of being eaten? Or do they genuinely like the guy?
“Good, Mr. Helmut,” our professor says as he strolls row to row. “Finding something that helps you mellow out is an important tool—and look at all you learned at the same time. We all need anchors.” Another hand shoots up and Wolfington smirks. “Ah, Mr. Ollie. What wisdom would you like to share with the class today?”
“I have more of a question than an announcement of an extra-credit kiss-up paper,” says Ollie, who happens to be Jax’s roommate. Short and stocky, with dark skin he says he got from so many days on the high sea (rumor is he was a stowaway on a pirate ship), what Ollie lacks in height he makes up for in friendliness and storytelling. Jax says he’s really good at magic tricks. (“It’s how he landed in this place,” Jax says. “He was always making people’s things disappear into his pocket.”)
“When you say anchors, do you mean metaphorical anchors or actual anchors that we can haul around as good luck charms?” Ollie asks. Half the class groans. “Anchors are pretty heavy.”
Before Wolfington can answer, Miri’s mirror starts to make noise and glow. I notice everyone in the class sit up straighter.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
“Sorry to interrupt, Professor.” Miri’s voice comes through loud and clear. “The headmistress needs to see Helmut immediately.”
The gnome’s face drops. “I didn’t do it.”
“Do what?” Wolfington asks calmly.
“Break into the cafeteria last night and eat two apple cream pies,” the gnome says. The follow-up burp doesn’t help his case.
“Funny, I see things differently,” Miri chirps. The mirror begins to glow a rainbow of colors and then an image fills the screen. It’s Helmut clearly picking the lock to the kitchen, and yep, there he is digging into a pie. He’s a fast eater. Helmut hangs his head.
Whoa. Miri is such a tattle tale.
“Helmut sighs and grabs his books. “Sorry, Professor Wolfington.”
Wolfington straightens Helmut’s hat on the way out. “Good luck, Helmut. So, anchors. I mean figurative ones, Ollie.” Ollie nods, and Wolfington stops at Jax’s desk. “How about you, Mr. Jax. How was your weekend?”
Jax mumbles something and then goes back to doodling in his notebook. I wonder if Wolfington bought my story about Jax trying to sneak outside my first day here to get my notebook. Somehow, I don’t think you can pull one over on the wolf man like you can on mousy Professor Grimes from our recent assembly, “Your Life, Your Career in Enchantasia: How to Find a Nobel Profession That Is Legal.” She let half the school go to the bathroom at the same time! They never came back to the great hall to hear the rest of the lecture.
“Isn’t that correct, Miss Gillian?”
Fiddlesticks. Wolfington is speaking to me now, isn’t he? What would a wolf man ask me the first five minutes of class? “Yes, I’m sleeping great. The pillows here are fantastic.”
“Pay attention, Cobbler!” Jocelyn says, and someone laughs.
I play with the collar on my white shirt. “Uh, the mattresses are kind of firm, but…” Kayla, who is sitting two rows ahead of me, shakes her head ever so slightly. The professor’s blue eyes go right through me. “That wasn’t the question, was it?”
Wow, werewolves smile! “I said, you’re pretty new to our school having only been here a week, correct?”
“Oh! Yep. Brand spanking new,” I say. Jocelyn sighs loudly.
“Well, then, Miss Gillian, maybe you will have a fresh take on what we were studying before all our assemblies this week. Oh, and students, don’t forget tomorrow we have another assembly on behavior for Royal Day: ‘Finding the Prince and Princess within Yourself.’” Professor Wolfington ignores more groans and goes to the blackboard. A lesson appears on it. “Last week we were discussing how the princesses came to power.”
Er…was I placed in the right grade? “My last class was in glass slipper making.”
Professor Wolfington sits on the edge of his desk. Through his shirtsleeves I can see a lot of hair. “Take your time.” Jocelyn makes a loud clicking sound with her tongue that I assume is supposed to sound like a ticking clock.
“I…” Professor Wolfington waits patiently, but I can picture him running warp speed toward my desk and hanging me on a hook at the back of the classroom.
“Anyone would be a better ruler than those airheads.” We all turn around. My thoughts exactly. I’m surprised to see it’s Jax who said that. An ogre pounds his hands on his desk in agreement and the desk cracks.
“Interesting sentiment, Mr. Jax.” Professor Wolfington strokes his beard. “Ruling isn’t a popularity contest. It requires tough choices that are right for a whole kingdom. Do you think the princesses are capable of making them?” Jax looks away. “Anyone?”
WOOO-OOH! WOOO-OH! WOOO-OH!
An alarm goes off overhead with such intensity that I have to cover my ears.
Headmistress Flora’s voice comes over the intercom. “Students, this is an evacuation drill.” A gnome muffles her cry. Why is she so worked up over a drill? “Report to your assigned stations at once and wait for further instructions.”
Professor Wolfington claps his hands. “Okay, students, you heard the headmistress. Go to your assigned stations immediately. Do not panic!”
Some good that instruction does. Everyone in the room begins to freak out. A troll boy is crying. The sea creatures shoot downward out of their tanks. Jocelyn strolls out of the room calmly, while the pixie flies out and leaves her book bag behind. I spin around, unsure of what is happening or where I’m supposed to go. Nobody told me anything about an assigned station. I look desperately for Kayla, but she seems to have disappeared. Why does a drill have everyone in such a tizzy? We had fire drills at trade school all the time. You’re used to it when your school has a thatched roof.
“Hey, Jax, what’s with the drill?” I start to say, turning to look for him, but he’s gone too. Humph. Some friends I’ve made, leaving me to fend for myself in this empty room.
But on second thought…
Miri is probably occupied with everything going on. The Wolf is gone. I look around to make sure no one else is watching, then head to the velvet drapes and slide off two brass rings. What the heck? I’ll take two more. The four fit in my two skirt pockets, but they do weigh the pockets down a bit. Who cares? These babies will feed my brothers and sisters for a month. I slip out the classroom door and enter total chaos.
Ogres are running at top speed (for them). Fairies are flying, even though it’s against the rules. Two trolls thump by me carrying a desk lamp and a gold trophy. I begin heading toward one exit when the hallway disappears in front of me. A troll next to me starts to cry. “We’re trapped!” he says.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, someone tell Miri to shut off the magical hallway mover!” I hear one older girl say to another one. They’re dressed in beautiful, matching jade-green dresses, so they’re not students, and they seem to be in charge. They’re directing students to a new exit that just popped up in a stained-glass window. I realize I’ve seen these girls’ pictures in Flora’s office. They must be her daughters, Azalea and Dahlia. Kayla said they are student teachers here—and two of her best customers for her fake bag business.
Dahlia puts her hand out in front of a cute boy. “Where are you going, Geoff? You can use my exit if you want instead of going all the way to your station.” She giggles girlishly and I roll my eyes.
“Thanks, Dahlia!” Geoff
’s voice is sickeningly sweet, like taffy. “That’s a nice dress.”
Dahlia blushes and her rosy cheeks turn downright purple. “Oh, this ol’ thing? Aren’t you sweet!”
“Dahlia!” Azalea yells. “He can’t use our exit. He has to go to his station.” Geoff sighs. “All of you, get a move on.” As everyone moves like cattle to the window to exit, I notice Flora slip down a new hall that just appeared. Why isn’t she evacuating?
Ouch! A troll knocks two girls and me down as he pushes past us to get through the window exit first. I shake myself off and get up, but the two girls burst into tears.
“Zeus, geez! Chill!” Azalea reprimands the troll. “We’re all leaving, but you…”
That’s when I make my break for it.
Too bad I’m so loud. When I run, the brass rings in my pocket clink together and the sound echoes through the hall. I cringe, thinking Flora will hear me. At the same time, I’m worried she’ll get away—which she does. I have to find her.
“What are you doing, sticky fingers?” Jax asks, appearing out of nowhere. He’s got his arms folded across his chest like he’s just been hanging out, waiting for me to run by him. “You’re supposed to be at your evacuation station—and what’s that you’re hiding?” Jax’s violet eyes look disapproving.
I shove the rings deeper in my pockets. “No one told me what my station was.”
“It’s listed in your welcome pack,” Jax says.
“Yeah, I didn’t read that,” I admit. “What’s everyone so worked up about if it’s just a drill?”
“Sometimes drills aren’t drills here,” Jax says. “Last time the alarm went off, someone thought Gottie had gotten onto school grounds. They said she was looking for that Mr. Harding who just went missing. They never found her, but it shook a lot of kids up. Now when they hear drill, they think we’re being invaded by evil fairies.”
