Disenchanted

by Susan Carroll

  Doubling my hands into fists, I said, “I swear, Hawkridge, if you dare laugh, this time I will hit you so hard, your eyeballs will roll out of your head.”

  Mal seized my wrists to fend me off as a chuckle escaped him. “S-sorry, Ella, but when you look back on all this tomorrow, I am sure you will see how amusing it was.”

  “Oh yes, when I am arrested for assaulting the prince and dragged down to the Dismal Dungeons to be executed, I am sure I will die laughing.”

  “That will never happen. You don’t understand what happens when you snort pixie dust, do you? Your brain goes completely dah-lally. When Florian wakes up tomorrow, he won’t remember a thing that happened. He’ll be so roaring hungry, his desire will be for a thick juicy beefsteak, not a bride.”

  “Just how do you know so much about the effects of pixie dust?”

  “I may have tried it a time or two during my wilder days.”

  “When was that? Last week?” I groused.

  Mal laughed. He loosened his grip on my wrists as he soothed me. “I promise you, Ella. Everything will be all right. Florian will forget all about you and go back to his one true love, his own reflection.”

  I felt partially reassured. It still worried me that Florian had my shoe, but if he woke up as confused as Mal said he would, the prince would likely take one bewildered look at my scuffed dancing slipper and toss it on the nearest rubbish heap.

  I could tell Mal was bursting to ask me about the orb, but I was uneasy about his being this close to the palace gardens. He might blend into the night, but my silvery-gold gown would stand out like a white banner snapping in the breeze. I refused to discuss anything further until we had trudged across the open meadow and into trees to the place where Mal should have waited for me.

  The cottage was little more than a ruin, deserted since the previous occupants had been driven out by the palace guard, evicted to dwell in Misty Bottoms or perhaps out into the swampland beyond our border. The door hung off its hinges; the shutterless windows were like gaping wounds. Thick vines grew in profusion, like greedy fingers, plucking away at the stone walls. I was not even tempted to enter the cottage, especially not after I caught the gleam of eyes and heard some nocturnal creature rustling in the darkened interior.

  There was a rough wooden bench positioned outside and I sank gratefully down onto that, heedless of whatever further damage I might be doing to the delicate silk of my gown. I could hear the continued burst of fireworks, but it sounded faint and far away from this secluded spot.

  Mal paced in front of me like a restless shadow. Moonlight pierced the trees, not enough for me to discern his expression, but I sensed his eagerness.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Well what?” I responded grumpily. I was still feeling irritated with him for laughing about the episode with Florian.

  “How was the ball? How did everything go?”

  “I danced far too much.”

  “And?”

  “My sister Amy got very drunk.”

  “And?” Mal’s voice grew increasingly anxious.

  “Myrtle Hanson fainted in front of the prince and a huge fight broke out.”

  “Ella!” Mal groaned. “You are killing me. The orb. What about the orb? Did you get it?”

  I feigned a deep sigh. “Unfortunately with one thing and another…”

  When I saw Mal’s shoulders slump with disappointment, I could not bear to tease him any longer.

  “Yes, I got it.” Delving into the pocket of my gown, I produced the orb. Considering everything I had been through tonight, I was relieved to see the tiny globe still intact.

  “Happy birthday, Mal,” I said.

  Mal snatched the orb from me before I had a chance to hand it over. He reached upward and I realized there was a small lantern hanging from a hook by the cottage door. Mal had been keeping it cloaked, but he removed the cover, allowing the light to spill over the orb.

  He cradled it reverently in the palm of his hand. “You did it, Ella, you darling girl. You really did it.”

  I could not resist getting in one last jab. “How do you know that I am not tricking you and just giving you the fake one back?”

  “I can feel the difference. The real one is slightly heavier.”

  “What!” I sat upright in alarm. “You told me the fake one you had made was identical.”

  “I said the substitute was as alike as I could make it. No one could tell the difference between them, except perhaps another wizard.”

  “Another wizard like Mercato? Blast you, Hawkridge, why didn’t you warn me that—”

  “Relax, Ella. I do not think even Sidney Greenleaf is allowed to go poking about in the king’s private treasure chamber. The orb has been gathering dust there for decades. No one is likely to have a sudden urge to inspect it now, so stop fretting.”

  I subsided, but the list of things that Mal kept telling me I did not have to worry about grew longer by the minute.

  The lantern light played over Mal’s face, illuminating his expression. I had expected him to be overjoyed to have this memento of his grandfather returned to him. But there was something that made me a little uneasy about the rapt light in Mal’s eyes as he examined the orb, as though he was mesmerized.

  “Exactly what did you say that thing does again?” I asked.

  “It finds that which has been lost,” Mal said, as though he was quoting from some ancient text.

  “You mean like a missing glove or a shoe?”

  “Something far more valuable.”

  “Like what? A buried treasure?”

  “Yes, a lost treasure,” Mal murmured. “I have to figure out how to use the orb first, but when I do—oh, Ella, just think how this could change all our lives.”

  “Um, hmm.” I agreed halfheartedly. Ever the dreamer, Mal was probably imagining finding some lost cache of gold or jewels. I hated to disillusion him, but I was far too cynical to believe that little glass ball possessed that kind of magic or even if it did that Mal would be able to use it.

  I struggled to my feet. “I really need to get back to the palace before my stepmother wonders what happened to me.”

  Mal snapped out of his trance and tucked the orb away in a small pouch affixed to his belt. “Thank you, Ella. I am so grateful, I could kiss you.”

  “No need for that. I have had quite enough kissing for one night.”

  “But you have no idea how much this means and—what!” Mal gaped as my words registered. “Who have you been kissing?”

  I shrugged. “Commander Crushington and a couple of princes.”

  When Mal shot me an outraged look, I reminded him, “You did tell me to enjoy myself.”

  “Not that much!”

  “Good night, Mal,” I said, regretting my spurt of honesty. I could only blame it on my exhaustion, my mind too tired to control my mouth. I turned to make my escape, but there was no way Mal was going to be fobbed off that easily.

  He caught hold of my arm and hauled me back to face him.

  “Why were you kissing the Crusher?” he demanded.

  “The commander caught me down in the forbidden part of the palace right after I had stolen the orb. He was asking me too many questions. I needed to do something to distract him.”

  And what a delicious, pulse-pounding, blood-warming distraction it had been. I barely managed to suppress a sigh at the memory.

  “You couldn’t have just hit him over the head or something?” Mal scowled. “And how could Crushington catch you when you were wearing the glass slippers? You would have been invisible.”

  “I wasn’t wearing the glass shoes.”

  “What! Why not?”

  “They hurt my feet.”

  “Ella—”

  “Besides that, they didn’t work.”

  “But I gave you explicit instructions.”

  “Which I followed exactly.”

  “You must have done something wrong because those shoes were well tested. They worked just fin
e in my shop.”

  “Well, they did not work for me.”

  Mal flung up his hands in a frustrated gesture, looking as though he wanted to shake me. “Blast it all, Ella. I would never have agreed to let you do this if I had not thought you would be protected. When you couldn’t get the shoes to work, why didn’t you just forget about stealing the orb?”

  “Because I promised you and when the fight broke out, I saw my chance and oh, what does it matter? I managed well enough without the shoes, didn’t I?”

  “Except for being forced to get all cuddly with Crushington to keep from being arrested,” Mal grumbled.

  I could think of many words to describe Horatio’s kiss. Breathtaking, passionate, tender, but definitely not cuddly. Since Mal was already looking jealous enough, I kept such reflections to myself.

  “So your kiss worked? Did your distraction allay the commander’s suspicions?” Mal asked.

  “Not entirely. It was really Amy who did that.”

  “Amy!” Mal looked confused, as well he might. “What was she doing in the forbidden corridor? Did she kiss Crushington too?”

  “No!” I explained briefly about Amy’s drunken tryst with Prince Dall in the king’s wine cellar. I concluded by jabbing an accusing finger against Mal’s chest. “I consider you partly to blame for my sister’s behavior.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “You gave my sisters a bottle of that infamous potion of yours. What were you thinking?”

  “I told you, my Elixir of Love is completely harmless. If Amy ran wild, you can blame it on the king’s cheap wine. It happens every year, you know. Couples get tipsy at the ball and sneak off into the shrubbery. The royal ball is usually followed by any number of sword-point weddings and then months later an increase in the population.”

  “And you never thought to warn me about that either?”

  “Amy insisted things never went that far with the prince, didn’t she? I am sure you have nothing to worry about with her. The worst that will happen is she will wake up with a splitting headache tomorrow and be a sadder but wiser girl.”

  “You had better be right or after I choke the life out of that smirking prince, I will be coming after you. You swore to me how smoothly everything would go tonight—”

  “Never mind about that,” Mal cut me off. “Who else were you kissing? You said a couple of the princes. Which ones?”

  “Prince Florian, although it certainly wasn’t my idea. When he proposed to me, he pounced and gave me the most sloppy, revolting kiss. Do you know he actually thrust his tongue in my mouth?”

  “Ah!” Mal nodded. “Obviously our prince has been spending time on the Isle of Lothmara.”

  “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “The island is mainly populated by these voluptuous beautiful women, sirens actually, skilled in the arts of every imaginable seduction. The things these women can do with their tongues can reduce a full-grown man to a quivering mass of—” Mal broke off with a discreet cough. “Not that I would know much about such creatures.”

  “Oh no, of course not,” I said drily. “I wish the prince did not either. Florian’s kiss was utterly disgusting.”

  “Only because the prince did not learn how to do it right. If you like, I could demonstrate the proper way to do a siren’s embrace.”

  “I thought you just said you didn’t know much about such kisses.”

  Mal grinned. “I know enough. So who was the other prince?”

  “What?” My mind was still boggling over the information about those sirens and their magical tongues.

  “You mentioned kissing a couple of princes. That implies two.” Mal held up a pair of fingers. “Who was the second one?”

  I gave a wearied sigh. I really did not want to discuss my painful discovery that my long-lost lover had turned out to be Prince Ryland in disguise. But I had already hurt Mal enough by keeping Harper a secret from him in the first place. So I told him about the scene on the balcony.

  “That treacherous bastard!” Mal growled. “If I ever cross paths with him, he’ll lose a lot more than his hand.”

  “Forget about him, Mal. I assure you that I have.”

  I tried to shrug, but some of the lingering ache I felt over Harper must have shown on my face. Either that or Mal simply knew me far too well. His grim expression softened and he held out his arms.

  “Come here.”

  When I regarded him warily, he gave a rueful laugh. “No kissing, I promise. But you’ve had a demon of a night, my dear friend. You look as though you need a hug.”

  I stumbled into his arms. I fit so comfortably against his shoulder and Mal stroked my hair, murmuring nonsense and consoling me as he had done so often over the course of our friendship. I felt so drained, I wished I could have closed my eyes and remained tucked in Mal’s embrace for the rest of the night.

  But I was too aware of the hard, lean musculature of his body, the tension in his arms. I could sense his desire for me, the effort that it cost him to restrain himself. I drew awkwardly away from him.

  “I really do need to get back to my family,” I insisted. But I recollected one more thing I had neglected to tell Mal about, and he was not going to like it.

  As Mal moved to douse the lantern, I said, “Something else happened this evening that you should know about. Your witch friend attempted to attend the ball.”

  “Delphine? What was she doing there?”

  “I think she had some notion of helping me get the orb for you.”

  “Silly witch. How did she think she was ever going to get past Mercato and those aura cats?”

  “I don’t know. She had barely set foot inside the palace gates when that magical alarm thing on Mercato’s scepter went off and he sent the guards after her. She got away by conjuring up this mist and then she…” I winced, knowing how mad this was going to sound. “She transformed herself into a cat.”

  “She what?” Mal laughed. “My dear Ella, how much pixie dust have you been snorting this evening?”

  “None! It’s true, Mal. I watched her do it with my very own eyes.” I went on to describe with greater detail Delphine’s transformation into the black cat Ebony.

  Mal folded his arms across his chest, looking skeptical. “So you are trying to tell me that Ebony is really…”

  “Delphine.”

  “The same cat that likes to follow me around and rub up against me?”

  “Delphine.”

  A frown creased Mal’s brow as he struggled to get his head around this disturbing revelation. “You mean the same cat that I sometimes allow to snuggle in bed with me?”

  “Yes! That’s Delphine.”

  “The cat that often tries to leap onto my lap and use her front paws to knead my…my…” Mal shuddered. “Oh, frapping fairies, Ebony really is Delphine.”

  He rubbed his arms as though his skin crawled with fleas. He groaned. “I need to go home and take a scalding hot bath.”

  Mal had teased me so many times during the years of our friendship. I fear that I enjoyed telling him about Delphine far more than I should have. Feeling slightly repentant for my glee, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek in parting. I left him still trying to come to grips with the realization he had been sharing his bed with a lascivious witch.

  I approached the palace with trepidation, but the guardian fairies, if there truly were such things, finally deigned to smile upon me. The fireworks were over and all of the guests had headed to the banqueting hall for the midnight supper. Prince Florian had either staggered off in search of his sword or been found by some of the palace guard and carted off to his bed. No doubt the poor fellows were accustomed to performing such duties for the royal family.

  Either way, I was relieved to be spared another encounter with my pixified royal suitor. I did wonder wistfully where Horatio was and hoped he was having some success in persuading Mercato to spare the Hanson family.

  I found Netta bidding a sad farewell to her sergean
t. I scooped her up and, with Lord Redmond’s help, managed to get my stepmother and sisters to our carriage. Our departure was somewhat enlivened by Amy puking all over His Lordship’s shoes. I hoped the poor man was not repulsed by my sister’s antics. I liked Chuffy and wanted him to call upon Em. Out of all of us, my stepmother was the only one who had enjoyed what might prove to be a promising romance.

  Our hall clock chimed the hour of two before we were divested of our ballroom finery and in our nightgowns. After seeing Em and my sisters tucked in for the night, I retired to my own bedchamber. Even as exhausted as I was, I could not settle enough to sleep, my mind too full. I still could not believe out of all the women at that ball, Prince Florian had singled me out to be his bride. I prayed that Mal was right about the effect of that much pixie dust on the brain and by morning, that dolt Florian would forget he had ever met me. As for Ryland, the prince in disguise who had once won my heart, I hoped I could finally forget him.

  Attending the royal ball had only left me with more questions about my parents’ history, and then there was King August’s strange reaction to me. Would I ever be able to learn the truth behind all of that? I fretted. I took down my hair and sought to calm myself by rhythmically brushing out the tangles, but I still felt like a pocket watch that had been wound too tight.

  Pacing over to my window, I opened it and perched upon the sill, allowing the cool night breeze to fan my cheeks. Coaches lumbered past in the street below as one by one, Midtown families straggled home from the ball. None of the carriages stopped at the Hansons’ door. I worried about the fate of Ivy and Myrtle, their brothers, Fortescue Bafton and all of the other Midtown boys who had been arrested after the melee.

  But I worried even more about Horatio. Our king was possessed of an unpredictable, vindictive nature. Even though Horatio was a Scutcheon commander, would his rank be enough to protect him if he angered His Majesty by attempting to thwart August’s cruel laws? Why had I not thought of this when I had begged Horatio to intervene on Myrtle’s behalf? I regretted I had ever done so as the returning coaches became fewer and fewer until the street stood silent and empty.