by Anita Valle
They didn’t find my crystal slipper? I remember kicking it under the bed the night I staggered in from the ball. That would have been fabulous proof. Good thing they’re stupid, I guess.
I shrug. “He’ll think they’re for a child.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s worth a shot, right? And hey, we’re in luck! The prince is searching our town today, so Mother shouldn’t have to go far.”
I dive back to the knot on my ankle. Loony smirks and raises the frying pan. “He can find you much easier if you’re unconscious.”
“Lunilla, please. Please, let me go!”
Loony settles back in her chair, smug as a cat. “You know, when you marry the prince, can you imagine what that will do for me? And my marriage chances? I’ll be the queen’s sister!”
“Stepsister!” I spit out.
Loony hoists her foot up on the bedframe. “’Course I’d rather be queen myself. But if the prince is really the rat you described, well, sounds like he’s perfect for you! You always liked rats, didn’t you?” She gives me a disgusted look.
I start to cry. I can’t help it. I’m trapped, I can barely feel my foot, and I’m going to be handed to the prince like a pig on a platter. By the very people who are supposed to be my family.
“I – I’m sorry, Lunilla.”
“What?” she looks at me like I’m crazy.
I cry into my curled hand. “I’m just sorry, that’s all. I know you never liked me much, but I didn’t give you much reason to. Did you ever like me at all?”
Loony’s grimacing like she smells something bad. “Oh, a little bit at the beginning. I guess.”
“How did we lose that?” I wipe my wet eyes. “We could have been friends. I should have tried harder but I let hate get the better of me. And now look at me.” I sniff loudly. “I always thought you had good stature. Good lungs too, you should try singing.”
Loony is still scowling. “If you think that’ll make me let you go-”
“I don’t.” I wipe my wet eyelashes. “I guess I just want you to know.
Loony rolls her eyes. As they reach one side, she notices the bedside table. She stares for a moment, then gasps.
My crystal decanter is alive with light, sparkles bouncing on the inside. When the sparkles dissolve, several drops of white liquid have collected at the bottom.
~*~ 24 ~*~
“Melodie. MELODIE!” Loony jumps out of her chair and drops the frying pan. She skitters several feet back from the table, her eyes big and bulging.
“Huh?” I hear Moody’s voice down the hall. She doesn’t sound remotely interested in whatever Loony’s screaming about.
“Come here! Quick! Quick!”
Moody doesn’t come quick, but she comes. She slouches against the doorframe and doesn’t look at me once. I guess she’s not over the scrubbing brush incident.
“Look at this! Look!” Loony grabs the decanter and prattles about what happened. “It just appeared, like - like magic!”
Moody frowns and takes the decanter. She peers at the little blob of liquid inside. “Are you sure? It looks like spit.”
“No! I saw it! The whole bottle glowed and then that stuff was in there!” Loony points at me. “She’s a – she’s a witch! She’s got magic! I bet that’s how she got to the ball! I bet that’s why we didn’t recognize her!” Loony flies at me and grabs my shoulder. “What is that stuff? Tell me now!” She shakes me roughly.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting here and cursing myself for apologizing to Loony. I wasn’t trying to earn white magic! Everything I do comes back to spit in my face, like hot oil out of a pot.
“Tell me!” Loony shakes me again.
“That won’t work, she’s stubborn,” Moody says. “We should take this to Mother.”
“Wait – maybe we can test it!” Loony snatches the decanter from Moody and whips off the stopper. She sniffs the bottleneck carefully. “It smells fruity!” She opens her palm and tilts the bottle into it.
“Don’t!” Moody pushes the bottle upright. “We don’t know what it can do! You could turn into a chicken or something!”
“In that case, Cindy would be a chicken.”
“It won’t do anything for you,” I growl. “It was meant for me and it will only work for me. There’s not enough in there to do much of anything.”
“But what does it do?” Moody asks.
I try to think of something scary. The magic will turn me into a wolf that can swallow them whole. Or something boring; the magic is just a fancy cure for stomachache. But it doesn’t matter what lie I would’ve told because we all hear the snap of a downstairs door and Stepmother’s voice calling out. “Lunilla! Melodie! Come here, my darlings, we have a special guest!” The jubilation in her tone can mean only one thing.
Prince Edgar is here.
~*~ 25 ~*~
My stepsisters leave. The decanter goes with them. I wrestle with the knot on my ankle but panic has made me clumsy. My fingers fumble, too scared to slow down.
“Please – please!” I whisper. I have to escape now! But the knot does not slide and my fingernails shred. Through the murmur of con-versation downstairs my ears pick out a man’s voice, soft and pleasant, and my heart jumps right in my throat. I have to get out! I don’t want to think of what Edgar might do if he finds me alone and tied to a bed. No, no, no....
I hear a soft scuffling by the wall and snap toward the sound. One of my rats! Stepmother and Loony ransacking my room must have scared him out. He pauses and looks up at me as if asking if I’m all right.
“Toil! Come here!” I wave him over, desperately happy. “Can you chew through this rope on my ankle? They trapped me.”
Toil doesn’t hesitate. He springs onto the side of the bed and claws his way up. It takes him only a minute to chew through the knot on my ankle.
“Thank you, darling!” I slide my hand over him, flattening his silky fur. Then I peel the rope off my ankle where it leaves purplish dents in my flesh. My foot tingles as blood begins to flow again.
I hurl myself off the bed and out of the room. I have no time to pack. It means leaving barefooted with the clothes on my back, but what choice do I have? I will not marry that cheater, beater, murderer.
I creep down the narrow back staircase that Cook uses. I’m near the kitchen now. A long corridor leads to the front of the house where the immaculate white sitting room is. I hear Stepmother speaking. “She’ll be down shortly, she just wanted a few minutes to get ready. Lunilla, why don’t you go and fetch her?”
I shouldn’t have waited. I dash into the kitchen, planning to slip out the back door. But the room is dark and in my haste I kick the coal scuttle sitting by the stove. It clatters across the floor and hits the wall with metallic fanfare. I don’t believe this!
“Cook?” I hear Loony say.
“Cook is out!” Stepmother’s voice is sharp as a battle cry. She knows who’s in the kitchen.
I wrench open the back door and spring out to the yard. It looks the same as the night I prepared for the ball, except now the pumpkins are gone, stored away in the cellar. I dash across the courtyard, hoping to reach the street beyond. There I have a chance of losing myself among the alleys.
No such luck. The back door bangs open and moments later Loony crashes against my back, toppling me onto the cobblestones. I land with her arms under my stomach and the air is punched right out of my lungs.
Pain. Pain. My mouth is wide open, trying to pull in air that won’t come. My chin is scraped against the stones. After several seconds I wheeze out, “G-get off me!” But Loony is bigger, heavier, bulkier. She simply laughs in my ear. “Not a chance, sister.”
I wriggle but it’s like being under a cow. I hear commotion behind me, more running feet. Loony is warm on my back but the ground feels cool below me. I can’t hear much with her breath in my ear, but the noises soon settle. And then, with soft, steady clops, a pair of shiny black boots steps in front of my face.
“Hello, little crow.”
>
~*~ 26 ~*~
It’s him.
I can’t see his face but his voice slides into me like a dark spell. My heart deadens. My limbs lose the will to move. There is no hope for me now, none at all.
“Release her,” Edgar says and Loony lifts off me. Edgar crouches and takes careful hold of my arms. I allow him to lift me but I keep my eyes down. I don’t want to look at him.
“It is you, my little crow, is it not?” He says it as tenderly as if we’re long-estranged lovers. Hooking a finger under my chin, he gently tilts my face up to his. “Look at me,” he whispers.
So I look. Oh my goodness, he’s beautiful. His blue eyes are so soft and loving they remind me of Papa’s. He’s wearing a black suit tonight, a silver crown in his hair. He smiles gently and sadly, as if my absence pained him, and I even see tears in his eyes.
“It’s you.” He touches my cheek with his fingertips. “I have searched the kingdom, night and day, hoping to find you. I almost despaired.” He grins now, a grin of heartfelt delight. “You’re as beautiful as I remember.”
My heart is aching, bleeding tears. If only he was really like this! But I know the real him, this is a performance. And we have an audience. Stepmother and Loony and Moody stand a few yards away, spaced around us like sentinels. And from the corner of my eye I notice two soldiers that must have come with the prince. Well, if Edgar can pretend, then so can I.
I shake my head. “I don’t know you, sir.”
Edgar smiles and takes hold of my hands. “Don’t be shy, my dearest. How could I forget those eyes! You look less grand than when I last saw you, but your sweetness cannot be hidden. I’ve missed you so.”
Oh, he’s good. He’s got Loony and Moody completely fooled, they both gaze at him hungrily. And Stepmother – her thin eyes shift from Edgar to me, not knowing who to believe. I can tell she doesn’t like the way he’s talking to me.
I lower my eyes. “I’m sorry, sir, but I do not know you. I am just a servant here.”
“She’s lying,” Stepmother says. Edgar holds up a hand. “She is just being modest. One of the many things I admire about her. But don’t worry. I have something to settle the question. Something she lost on the night of the ball.” He turns and beckons to one of the soldiers.
The soldier is a young fellow with a hard, square jaw, thrust forward to convey his tough-ness. He looks misplaced in this yard full of women, with his belt and sword and pointed helmet. He approaches Edgar with a silver box not much bigger than... my foot. I know what will be inside.
Edgar takes the chest and tilts back the lid. And there it is, my crystal slipper. Nestled in a cushion of blue velvet and twinkling like a star. It’s beautiful. But to me it’s like the sack they slip over your head just before the executioner drops his blade.
Edgar carefully scoops out the shoe and hands the chest back to the soldier. I take a step back. “I will not put that on.”
Edgar laughs good-naturedly. “What is there to fear? If you are not the girl I seek then the shoe will not fit you. And I’ll leave you in peace. Here, slip it on.” He lifts the shoe in both hands like an offering.
I step back again. “No.” But darn it, I didn’t notice that Loony moved to stand behind me. Her big hands grip my arms just above the elbows. “Royal decree, honeybee,” she croons. “All maidens must try on the slipper. Even Melodie and I tried to wear it. But it’s so ridiculously small. Just like your feet, isn’t that funny?”
Edgar steps closer, still holding out the slipper. And now I can’t move back. So I do the only thing I can think of: I swing up my foot and kick the underside of his hands. It works. The slipper shoots up, arches over his head, strikes the stone surface of the courtyard. And shatters.
I allow myself to smile. My slipper is ruined, smashed into sparkling fragments like diamonds. Only the long, thin heel remains intact, lying on the ground like an icicle.
I smirk at Edgar. “Oops. Silly me.”
He’s angry. His face has gone iron cold. I’m seeing the real Edgar now, the snake coiled to spring. He may carefully conceal his true nature before others, but the venom shows in his eyes. If my stupid steps were not present, I know he would hit me again, hard.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Moody says. “I’ve got the other slipper right here.”
Edgar whirls around. Moody stands a few feet behind him, holding my left slipper. I don’t believe it. Her face is glum as ever as she hands it to the prince. Like none of this matters to her.
All I can do is stare at her, shocked. She shrugs at me. The shrug is very telling, it says, ‘Look, I tried to help you but you threw a scrub brush at me. We’re done.’
I never liked her anyway.
“Well!” Edgar laughs as he takes the new slipper. “Aren’t you full of surprises! Where did you get this?”
Moody points a finger at me. “In her room, the morning after the ball. I went in to speak with her and she was dead asleep on her bed, with bloody feet. The slipper was on the floor. I took it-” she glares at me “-so that Mother wouldn’t find it.”
“You what?” Stepmother cries.
Moody flicks her hand. “None of that matters now. Just put the shoe on and get rid of her.”
The prince turns back to me, holding the shoe close to his chest this time. “Shall we, my dear?” He smiles like a hawk closing talons over its prey.
Loony’s grip on me tightens. “Say the word and I’ll hold her foot for you,” she tells Edgar. I curl my fingers into claws. They won’t take me down without a fight.
Edgar leans toward me but his smile falters. His knees twitch forward but he doesn’t take a step. He looks down, frowning, and his knees twitch again.
“What’s the matter?” Stepmother asks.
Edgar tries to laugh. “I – I can’t move my feet!”
Stepmother frowns and shifts her weight forward. She gasps as her feet remain planted. “I can’t either!”
I feel Loony’s hands drop off me and she squeals like a piglet. “I just lowered my arms and I wasn’t trying to!”
“It’s her,” Moody says, staring at me in awe. “She’s using magic. I don’t know how, but-”
“Witch! Witch!” Loony screams.
We all hear a laugh. A harsh, loud cackle that seems to come from nowhere. Everyone looks scared to death except me. I know that laugh.
“Oh, she’s no witch,” says a new voice to my right. “Just a selfish child. A vain little hussy. But she can’t do magic - that’s what I’m for.”
The air beside me fills with color and shape and Godnutter appears before all of us.
~*~ 27 ~*~
Still smoking! That blasted pipe is between her teeth and she grins around it. With her wrinkled dress and messy hair she looks like a mad woman that stumbled into our yard.
“All right, you can move now.” She takes the pipe out of her mouth and wiggles the stem. A thin stream of sparkles flies out to each person. But if they can move now, they don’t. Everyone – Edgar, Stepmother, Loony and Moody, the two soldiers – simply stares at Godnutter. They all look afraid, unsure of what to do or say.
Godnutter winks at Edgar. “Sorry, princey, no bride for you tonight. I’m the brat’s fairy godmother and it’s my job to look after her. I won’t let you take her against her will.”
Edgar does nothing but stare at her. Like me, he’s probably heard tales of fairies but never saw one in real life. And he probably assumed they were pretty. But despite the white wings that sway open and shut like a butterfly’s, Godnutter is just scary.
Stepmother finds her voice first. “Her... fairy godmother?”
“I was her ma’s sister, once.” Godnutter rocks on her feet like she’s having a great time. “But that’s a long story and not a cozy one either. In short, I’m in charge of the girl. Whether she deserves it or not, I’m here to protect her. And none of you can stop me.”
“Are - are you the reason she went to the ball?” Moody asks carefully. “I thought she ha
d a secret lover that helped her get there.”
“Oh, she’s had plenty of those.” Godnutter rolls her eyes and Stepmother looks indignant. I guess she’s mad she never knew that. “But yes, dearie, you’re right about that. I gave her that hideous dress, and the slippers. She wanted the prince, foolish girl. But that’s only because her family made her feel insignificant.” Godnutter looks at Stepmother. “You did a lousy job, toots.”
Stepmother lifts her haughty chin. “She was not my daughter.”
“Yet she was a child entrusted to your care. And you let petty jealousy poison your heart. You rejected a little girl who just wanted to be loved and made her walk a path of loneliness. There are no words for that kind of cruelty. You utterly disgust me.”
Stepmother’s face is barely readable. Except for the tight clamping of her jaw, she shows no emotion.
Godnutter turns to Edgar who takes a reflexive step backward. “And you, well,” Godnutter shakes her head sadly, “There’s little hope for someone like you, a man who takes pleasure in harming women. But mark my words, princey, one day the world will see you for the beast that you are. And no one will pity you.”
Edgar smirks but I can tell he’s being cautious. Respectful of the power she wields. He probably doesn’t want to be turned into a frog or something.
Godnutter steps over and wraps her arm around my shoulders. “Come, dear. I’m taking you away from these people. I can’t give you much but I have a little cottage in a seaside village. You’ll be safe there, you can start a new life.”
A cottage by the sea. That sounds nice. Maybe I can set myself up as a dressmaker and find a nice man to marry. A new life, a new me.
But there’s one more thing. “What about the white magic?” I ask. “Do I lose it?”
