Night School

by Mari Mancusi

  Apple Blossom looks a little taken aback, but recovers quickly. “In your day,” he sneers. “Please. You left fairyland and by doing so, you relinquished your right to make these kinds of judgments. We had no choice but to recruit your daughter into service. She’s one of only two royal fairies left, thanks to you abandoning your duty. If anyone’s to blame for Sunshine’s current predicament, it would be you.”

  Mom’s face falls, guilt assaulting her hard and fast. She takes a shaky step backward and I have to grab her arm to keep her upright. “Don’t listen to him, Mom,” I say. “He’s just trying to bait you.”

  “But he’s right,” she whispers hoarsely. “This is my fault. All of it.”

  I can’t bear to see her so upset. Turning back to Apple Pancakes, I open my mouth to tell him off. But it seems my dad is already one step ahead of me.

  “How dare you upset Princess Violet like that?” he snarls at the fairy. “What, are you still jealous because she chose me over you? It’s not like you ever loved her. You just wanted the power that came with the Light Court throne.”

  Apple Blossom’s face twists and turns purple with rage. At first I think he’s going to deny it all, but instead he simply raises his sword. “And now I will have it,” he says. “Once your pathetic little girl marries my son.” He glances at his watch. “Which will be any minute now. Then I will, in all but name, become the ruler of fairyland.”

  My mom stiffens and lets out a small cry. I squeeze her arm as comfortingly as I can. We have to get away from these guys. We’re running out of time. But can we fight them all?

  My dad turns to the vampires behind us. “What are you waiting for?” he asks. “Get ’em, boys!”

  The vampires need no further invitation. Raising their iron weapons, they charge forward and the fight ensues. Vampires versus fairies. Fairies versus fairies. And one vampire-vampire slayer- fairy cheerleader joining in to boot.

  After ducking his sword and then head-butting one fairy, I manage to trip another, then dive onto a third and wrestle him to the ground, knocking his sword from his hand. Beside me, Magnus, Francis, and Stilton attack with iron weapons, bashing heads and bruising ribs. The iron bars were a brilliant idea. They burn on contact and the fairies are instantly sickened, weakening their attack and forcing them to drop their swords, which immediately extinguish when they leave their hands. Most of them can only take one touch of iron before falling uselessly to the ground. I grab a sword from one of the fallen and drive it through the stomach of one still standing. Yank the sword free, then repeat. Killing fairies is pretty gross and bloody, but what can you do?

  I’m feeling pretty good about our chances until suddenly I’m grabbed from behind and yanked into the air, my surprise causing my sword to fall from my hands. The ceiling’s higher here than in other parts of the tunnels and I’m at least twenty feet up before I can really process what’s going on. Twisting my head, I realize it’s none other than Apple Crumble himself who’s abducted me. And the look on his face tells me he’s still not over that whole me staking him thing.

  “I bet you’re sorry now that you didn’t kill me when you had the chance,” he sneers, flying me face-first into a nearby wall. My head slams into the concrete and I see stars. “I can tell you now,” he adds, backing up for another round, “I will not make that same mistake.”

  SLAM! Again into the wall, this time splitting my lip and bursting my nose. Blood fills my mouth as I kick my feet uselessly, struggling to free myself from his hold. Without traction from the ground, it’s pretty much an impossible task. But I do eventually manage to get one arm free and I use it to elbow him in the stomach, hard.

  The fairy bellows and loosens his grip for a split second, causing me to fall from his arms, careening to the ground. I realize dimly that this might not have been my smartest move. I’m falling hard, fast, and the floor is looking closer and closer. ...

  “Rayne!” My mom’s call breaks through my panic. “FLY!”

  Oh yeah. Duh. A very good reason to have those ugly wings of mine. I squeeze my eyes shut and manage some kind of flapping, seconds before I crash down onto the hard stone floor.

  “Oh my God! I’m flying!” I cry. “I’m actually flying!”

  My flight is short lived, however, as Apple Cinnamon dives at me, slamming me into the stone wall again, this time back first. My fragile wing bones shatter on impact and I cry out in pain. He grabs me by the neck and I can’t catch my breath. I try to kick at him, but can’t make contact. The lack of oxygen, accompanied by the searing pain in my wings, is starting to make everything black and fuzzy.

  “And now, slayer,” he spits out, “let’s see how you like to be staked.” He reaches into my pocket with his free hand and pulls out my stake, raising it up to my heart. He pulls his hand back and I realize dimly this could very well be the end.

  “I’m sorry, Sunny,” I murmur weakly. “I tried ...”

  Suddenly, Apple Fritter’s eyes widen in shock, his mouth dropping open. A moment later, he releases my neck and the two of us fall to the ground. He’s heavier and hits first, cracking his skull against the stone. But I’m right behind him, and my broken wings won’t save me now. Dive-bombing head first into the—

  —arms of Francis and his kung fu grip. He looks down at me and grins.

  “Thanks!” I cry, relieved, as he sets me gently on the ground. Everything hurts, but I’m still alive. “I really thought I was done for there.”

  “Thank your father,” Magnus says, walking over to me. The fight is over. The fairies either are dead or have run away. “He grabbed the iron bar from me and harpooned it right into that fairy’s back.”

  Awesome. I turn to my dad, my eyes shining with gratitude. “Thanks, Dad!” I say. “You got there right on time.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been keeping you waiting far too long,” he says with a small smile. Then he lets out a cry of pain and collapses onto the ground. Horrified, I rush to his side.

  “Dad? What’s wrong?”

  It’s then that I notice his right hand is bright blue, with blue streaks racing up his arm.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I cry.

  Mom joins me at his side, tears streaming down her cheeks. She turns to me. “Iron poisoning,” she pronounces. “From taking that iron bar and using it against Apple Blossom. He’s always been especially allergic to the metal—even for a fairy.”

  I watch in horror as my dad starts convulsing. His face goes white and he’s soon foaming at the mouth. What should I do? Stop him from biting his tongue? Give him CPR?

  “Dad!” I sob. This can’t be happening. “Dad, please! Stay with us!” I can’t lose him now. Not after hating him for all the wrong reasons for so many years. We’re supposed to have a happily ever after. Like the Disney movies! “Someone do something!” I cry to the vampires, not ready to give up. “We’ve got to help him somehow!”

  His eyes focus on me. “Rayne, my darling,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry for not being there for you. I’ve been a lousy dad. But I love you and your sister so much. I always have. You’ve got to believe me. I only tried to do what I thought was best.” He reaches up and brushes a lock of hair from my eyes. “Don’t let this all be in vain,” he whispers, then closes his eyes. I watch in horror as his body convulses one final time, then goes still.

  “No!” I moan. “Dad! You can’t die!” Bloody tears rain from my eyes, splashing onto my dad’s body. But it doesn’t matter. He’s gone. This time for good.

  I can feel Francis coming up behind me and gently but firmly pulling me away. I try to fight him, but, of course, he’s got that kung fu grip. A moment later, Mom pulls me into a big bear hug, crushing me against her. “Raynie,” she murmurs. “I’m so sorry.”

  I squirm out of her embrace, sadness mixed with anger swirling inside of me. “We have to bring him back,” I say. “Magnus, can’t you turn him into a vampire or something? Like Jareth did to Corbin?”

  “No,” he says softly. “Not with
the poison in his bloodstream. It’s too late. I’m sorry.”

  The final ounce of strength ebbs away and I collapse to the ground, feeling like I’m going to die myself from the magnitude of pain. My father. The one I hated for so long. The one who always let me down. And now, he sacrificed his very life to save me. And I never got the chance to say I’m sorry. I whisper the words now, just in case somehow he can hear me beyond the grave.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad. I love you.”

  “Come on,” Magnus commands. “Don’t fall apart on me, Rayne,” he says. “We still have to save your sister.”

  I can feel Mom come up behind me, placing a hand on my back. “Rayne, sweetie,” she pleads. “Your father would want us to go on. To finish our mission. You know he would.”

  I nod slowly, my dad’s final words echoing in my brain, giving me the strength to rise to my feet.

  Don’t let this all be in vain.

  “I won’t, Dad,” I whisper, as I turn to the remaining group. “I promise I won’t.” My legs still feel wobbly, but at least my wings seem to be healing. “What are we waiting for?” I ask. “Let’s go get Sunny.”

  30

  We race up the windy castle stairs, Mom leading the way. It’s two minutes ’til midnight now and we’ve got to get to the church on time.

  “Hurry!” I cry, though I know everyone’s going as fast as they can.

  “It’s just beyond this door,” Mom says, stopping before an ornate, stained-glass entryway. She leans over, hands on her knees, attempting to catch her breath. Magnus pushes past her and steps through the doors without hesitation. Francis and I are right behind him.

  I draw in a breath as my eyes become accustomed to the bright lights after being underground so long. To say the chapel is gorgeous would be like saying the Mona Lisa is a pretty decent painting or that Buffy the Vampire Slayer was kind of a cool show. The place is a living, breathing work of art, with huge stained-glass windows, depicting well-known fairy tales, cut into gold-plated walls. Pews of rich, dark wood and crimson velvet cushions line the main aisle. The altar on stage is bedecked with sparkling jewels and crystal chandeliers hanging from high ceilings flood the room with light.

  Toto, I don’t think we’re in Disney anymore ...

  But it’s the attendees that give me the most pause. Fairy-tale creatures from my childhood, come to life in the pews, just like Mom was talking about. I see Cinderella with a large pumpkin in her lap. (Her ride home, perhaps?) Hansel and Gretel, snacking on a bag full of candy. Rapunzel sitting alone, her long blond braids taking up an entire row. Rumpelstiltskin with straw sticking out of his clothes. You name a fairy-tale creature, it’s probably here, in the room, eyes fixed to the front, where the not-so-happily-ever-after wedding is taking place.

  I pull my eyes away from the guests and focus on the stage at the front of the room. An impeccably dressed fairy priest stands above two fairy figures—a man and a woman—who are kneeling in front of him. I can only see their backs, but I immediately recognize the sparkly, luminous wings belonging to my sister. She’s wearing a simple but elegant medieval-style white tunic, and her blond hair falls past her shoulders in thick, glossy ringlets. On any other occasion, I’d be super jealous that she looks so good.

  I grab Magnus’s arm and point with a shaky finger. He nods.

  “If anyone here has any reason why these two should not be wed,” the fairy priest is saying.

  “I do!” Magnus cries in a loud, choked voice. “I object!”

  The audience lets out a collective gasp and suddenly all of fairyland’s eyes are on us. A big, bad wolf snarls from the groom’s side of the church, and at least six dwarves give us the stink eye. (Sleepy’s eyes remain closed.) Chicken Little even starts running up and down the aisle, insisting the sky is falling, until he’s tripped by one of the three Billy Goats Gruff.

  Amidst the chaos, a tall, dark-suited fairy rises from his front row seat and turns to address us. The room falls silent as he opens his mouth to speak. Obviously some sort of VIP.

  “On what terms, may I ask, do you object?” he demands.

  Magnus steps forward, his chin high and his face fierce. “Because this young lady belongs to me. And I will take her home today. By force if necessary.” He raises his iron bar and the wedding party gasps in horror.

  “Now, now,” the black-suited fairy says in a calm voice. He steps into the aisle, approaching Magnus cautiously, as if dealing with a dangerous beast. Which, in a way, I guess, he is. “There’s no need to threaten violence, now is there?” He shakes his head. “We are a peaceful people. And would never think to take what is not ours.” He turns to my sister, who’s watching us with frightened eyes. “If Princess Sunshine agrees that she is yours, then, by all means, she should go with you. But I think you may be mistaken.”

  I swallow hard. If Sunny’s still under that fairy spell, she may not know who she is, never mind what she wants. Which, of course, is probably what this guy is counting on to begin with.

  “Sunshine, Princess?” the man says, addressing my sister. “This man here says you belong to him. Is that true?”

  Sunny takes a step back, huddling against her prospective groom. Apple Blossom’s son, I guess—I see a smarmy resemblance. He grips her arm protectively and whispers something in her ear and she cuddles closer to him.

  “Sunny!” Magnus cries, his voice no longer sounding as sure. “I’ve come to save you, baby.”

  “Wh-who are you?” she asks in a squeaky, shaky voice. “And why would you interrupt my happy day?”

  Magnus staggers backward, as if he’s been punched in the face. “Don’t you know me?” he cries. “It’s me. Magnus. Your boyfriend. I’ve come to rescue you.”

  “But why would I need rescuing?” Sunny asks, her overly made-up face crinkling with confusion. “I belong here. In fairyland. The people need me.”

  Magnus looks back at me, his face distraught. Behind him, I can see Apple Blossom Junior hiding a small smile.

  “I think she’s under some kind of spell,” I hiss.

  My sister turns to entreat the suited man. “Prime Minister,” she says pleadingly. “Please, can’t you get these horrible creatures out of our sacred chapel? They are destroying my happy day!”

  The prime minister nods. “Of course, my darling,” he says. Then he turns to Magnus. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But as you have heard, our princess has spoken. We must, by all rights, do as she commands.” He waves to the guards at the front of the room. They step forward. The vampires grip their iron bars, not ready to give up without a fight.

  “What are we going to do?” Francis asks hoarsely. “There’s too many of them. Not to mention we’re weakened from being in a holy church setting.”

  “There’s got to be a way to break the spell,” I whisper back. I wrack my brain, trying to remember something—anything—about my fairy research that could be helpful. Some kind of weakness or some kind of rule ...

  That’s it! Just like wishing upon a star, here, fairy-tale rules apply. And since Sunny’s a princess, under an evil spell, there’s only one way to save her.

  “You’ve got to kiss her!” I cry to Magnus. “It’ll break the spell!”

  Magnus doesn’t need to be told twice. He takes off down the aisle, pushing the prime minister out of the way and waking Sleeping Beauty in the process. The whole chapel erupts in chaos, but no one seems to know quite what to do. Magnus drops his weapon and grabs Sunny, pulling her into his arms and giving her a sound kiss on the lips. One that would make any fairy-tale prince proud.

  “No!” The prime minister cries, rushing toward Magnus, but he trips over Rapunzel’s long blond braid and goes crashing to the ground instead. “Stop!” he cries as tries to scramble to his feet.

  Magnus pulls back and studies Sunny’s face, his eyes filled with bloody tears. The crowd goes so silent you could hear a pin drop. (Which, actually, we do, thanks to the Brave Little Tailor at the back of the room.) It’s as if everyone’s
holding their breath, waiting to see what my sister will do.

  Sunny looks up at Magnus, her cloudy eyes clearing and her face lighting up in recognition. Yes! “Magnus?” she cries. Then she scans the room, her eyes widening in shock. “Where am I? What’s going on here?” She scrunches her face in confusion. “The last thing I remember is being out in the woods, attacked by ...” She trails off, catching sight of all the wings in the room. “Oh my God!” she cries. “Are we in fairyland?”

  “Baby, it’s okay,” Magnus assures her, squeezing her tight. “You’re back and I’ve got you and everything’s going to be okay.”

  “What is the meaning of this?” demands the prime minister, who’s recovered from his fall and is approaching the altar, an angry look on his face. He turns to the groom, his face stormy. “Apple Junior? Do you care to explain?”

  The bridegroom shrugs his shoulders, looking more than a little guilty. “I’m sure I have no idea,” he says sulkily.

  “Well, I do.”

  Everyone gasps as they turn to see my mother walking into the room, shoulders back and head held high.

  “Princess Shrinking Violet!” the prime minister exclaims. “Where did you come from?”

  “Your prison,” she replies smoothly. “Where I and my husband have been held captive by Apple Blossom and his men for nearly a month.”

  The prime minister’s face reveals genuine shock. I guess he’s not the one who ordered her imprisonment after all. “What?” he cries. “Why would he do something like that? And why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Simple,” Mom says. “Apple Blossom had been hungering over the court’s power for years. He thought he had a chance to become king by marrying me, but I chose to run away instead, leaving him stuck in the military without any real power. Now that his son is of marrying age, he thought he’d try again. Marry him to my daughter and install him as a puppet king, while keeping all the power to himself, of course.”

  “Actually, it’s even worse than that!” interrupts a familiar voice at the back of the room. We turn to look and my eyes widen as none other than our stepmom, Heather, herself enters the chapel. Where the hell has she been? I hope she’s not mixed up in the bad Slayer Inc. stuff ...