“I think it makes perfect sense,” said Darling. “You were brilliant at it. Not that we let you believe it for a minute.”
“Oh, just think,” said Sweetie. “She might make us those little eggs in a cup like she used to.”
Darling hissed. “Hush. She never wants to cook for us again. Remember what Mother said to her? What we said?”
“We were perfectly horrid, CeCi. You probably don’t even want to eat in the same room as us,” Sweetie said, scooting away from me.
“Of course I do. It’s different now, right? Maybe we can have a sisters’ dinner every once in a while. I know I haven’t been around very much. It’s nothing to do with you. Maybe you can catch me up on the gossip.”
Darling made her way to the bed and sat on the other side of me. “Did you hear about Red Riding Hood?”
“Or the rumor about the shoemaker’s elves?” asked Sweetie.
“Sweetie has a crush on the prince with one swan wing.”
Sweetie giggled. “So does Darling.”
“Oh, my,” I said. “I’m further behind than I thought.”
They squeezed my hands, and I was overwhelmed by their concern. “Thank you. Thank you for coming to me.”
“Of course,” said Sweetie. “If this is what you want, we believe in you.”
“We’ll test all your recipes,” said Darling.
“Even the gross ones,” said Sweetie.
“We hope you know how much we love you,” said Darling. “We don’t always know how to tell you, though. We have no right.”
“You have every right.” I wanted to tell them that we were all just children back then. None of us knew any better. But that’s not exactly it, either. A part of them will always remain dependent and brainwashed, and I don’t want to exploit them or cultivate their allegiance like Lucinda does. I just want life to be fairer to them than it has been in the past. That can’t be too much to hope for, can it?
Then again, things aren’t fair. One of my best friends moved to Oz and another is choosing to live the rest of her life as a Human.
Bianca could travel between both worlds. Like I will. She tells me that we’ll have a good long life of friendship when I visit her. But I’m afraid it won’t be the same. I wish I could change her mind, but each time we come back from Outside, more of her heart seems to remain there.
I complained to Phil that Bianca was thinking of moving to Los Angeles permanently. He told me to quit worrying, and let my friend live her life. I’m not trying to be selfish, but Phil said I needed to try harder.
Since Phil was feeling so sagacious, I also asked him his opinion about Rory and Maro. He asked me what I would want everyone to do if the situation were reversed. Therefore, I’ve resolved to tell Rory as soon as possible. She wasn’t taking visitors when we stopped by on our way to class today. Nor this evening. So I’ll try again in the morning. I’ll be glad when this vault of secrets is completely empty.
Speaking of empty, noodles always need to be boiled in water. A lot of water. And you have to take them out after forty or so rounds of “Ninety-nine Bottles of Mead on the Wall.” I’m sorry your kitchen smells so badly. Perhaps a nice bouquet of flowers or a few bowls of vinegar or baking soda might help absorb the smoke. Let me know how it works.
Love,
CeCi
Princess Briar R. Rose
Somnolent Tower Castle
South Road, Grimmland
Dearest Zell,
CeCi, having evidently taken a lesson in persistence from Bianca, called upon me yesterday evening for the fourth time in two days. I tried to send her away, but she barged right past my nurse. Some guard dog I purchased. Snoozer jumped up and gave her a kiss when she sat down on the chaise.
“Rory, I need to tell you something. I’ve spent too long trying to figure out how, so I’m just going to come out and say it, okay?”
I stood. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to even acknowledge it. “I have things to do, you know.” I tried tidying my dressing table, to show her I was serious.
“Please sit down. Please?”
I turned to her. “I already know what you’re going to say.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course I’m sure, CeCi.”
“Sometimes really bad things happen and people aren’t sure how to protect their friends and their friends make bad decisions and—”
“I know about Henry and Maro.” Saying it made me feel like a candle that’d just been blown out.
“What the hell, Rory? How long have you . . . when? Why haven’t you taken my visits?”
“I certainly hope you don’t mean to be cross with me for putting two and two together.”
“No, of course not. It’s just, we’ve been wondering how to tell you, and so . . .”
“And so,” I mocked her. “How long have you and Bianca known?”
“Not that long. But longer than we should have. And Bianca hasn’t known as long as me, and she wanted to tell you right away. But you were getting so upset about small things, I just couldn’t imagine telling you something this painful.”
“Small things? Like my life? My dreams of starting a family? My hopes of being loved by a man who wanted Maro all along? Your little revelation could have saved me quite a bit of time and tears, you know.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
I finally sat down. “CeCi, you’ve always gotten by relying on people to understand your intentions instead of your actions. It cannot always be that way. It is irrational to think otherwise.”
“Fine. Please forgive me, Rory. It’s my fault, all of it.”
And despite the fact that I probably said something similar in my last letter, Zell, that’s not completely true, either. “See, you’re doing it again! This isn’t all about you. It isn’t your fault that Maro is what she is,” I said. “Or Henry. But I needed your help more than ever and you kept this from me. You let me make a fool of myself. In front of her. In front of Henry. Why didn’t you help me?”
CeCi was sobbing. Snoozer looked back and forth between us, his head cocked.
“Come now,” I said. “Things will be better with time. You’ll have to give me that time, though. You owe me that much.”
She looked up at me, and her tears started again. “I should be the one comforting you,” she said. Maybe she was right. In truth, Zell, I felt nothing at all, just an incredible, yawning emptiness. I told her I was tired.
“Just try to put yourself in our position, Rory. We wanted to protect you. We love you.”
I asked her more directly to let me get some rest. Eventually, she departed with minimal fuss.
Perhaps I shouldn’t be so hard on her. But I cannot envision our positions being reversed, no matter how hard I try. Our positions simply aren’t reversed and that’s that.
To make matters worse, CeCi has disrespected fate all along, as has Bianca. Even you, Zell, have chosen a life I can’t fathom. None of you have held up your end of the bargain granted to you by your Pages. Meanwhile, I’ve toed the line and I have nothing to show for it.
The only spark of anger I feel now is directed toward Maro. And, since no one seems to be doing anything about her, I will deal with her myself.
I traded the shoemaker a pair of Louboutins I bought with Patricia for a map to Malice’s new lair, and I’ll head there as soon as I can, though it’s a day’s journey by horse and I’ll need to leave Snoozer. I don’t want you worrying and I especially do not want you discussing this with CeCi and Bianca.
Figgy’s new Pages protect me from whatever danger Malice might have once posed. Isn’t it you who’s always telling me not to dwell on the past? Or perhaps it’s CeCi or Bianca. You all know what’s best for me, don’t you?
I’ll mak
e my own decisions from now on.
Rory
Important Fucking Correspondence from Snow B. White
Onyx Manor
West Road, Grimmland
West Hollywood Library
Los Angeles
Outside
Z,
The dwarves insist on throwing their own private bachelorette bash for me. They take over a back room at Shambles, all cider and ketchup and French fries.
Once I settle in, they tell me how proud they are of me, and that, even though they have reservations about William, they know he’s no Henry. I don’t tell them that I’m planning to go. I’m not sure how to even start that conversation.
It’s odd how formal our relationships have become. It’s as if the Disneyland story were true instead of what actually happened. It wasn’t like I was their servant. Not like CeCi was to her stepsisters, or anything. Our relationship was an exchange. An economy. A reciprocation.
Or maybe I’m just telling myself that. I needed them desperately, and I ambled right into their house like a stray dog. I don’t know that they so much needed me as made me feel a part of their routine. I didn’t know much about friendship back then.
The Huntsman warned me Valborg would find me if I wasn’t careful, but I doubted her persistence. The dwarves warned me, too. I didn’t listen the first time when she came peddling the corset, or the second time with the comb, or the third time with the apple. I understand why the dwarves have never quite trusted my judgment since.
I’m hungover as can be this morning when CeCi collects me bright and early for escort duty. On our way to the portal, she tells me Rory revealed that Tweedle-pea and Tweedle-dumb finally confessed to bumping uglies. She says Rory will eventually forgive us for keeping it from her, but we have to give her all the time she needs to “process the information.”
We stop by Rory’s chambers on our way to the tower, to politely invite her to join us. Her nurse sends us away, but tells us Rory looks amazing in the lilac bridesmaid dress I finally settled on. That information makes me feel pretty damned hopeful, to tell you the truth. Yeah, I know lilac is a bit tame, but I can be made to see reason. Okay, fine. I chose it because it is Rory’s favorite and guilt is a powerful motivation. Zebra stripes don’t mean enough to me to break her fragile little heart all over again.
Our detour makes us late, but CeCi uses the last of the summoning potion to get a cab once we arrive in L.A. I see our little chef to her class and then hurry to the library, hoping to find Rachel. I can’t wait to tell her about my future, our future. Part of me is nervous because what if she doesn’t like my plan? What if I tell her about my dream of being a runaway queen from the Realm of Imagination and she laughs at me?
At the library, the frizzy-haired woman, the one who doesn’t like dogs, tells me Rachel isn’t there. I ask where to find her, and she laughs at me. Tells me something about public records. Tells me to come back tomorrow. I say some less than polite things to her, and a couple of security men come and deposit me onto the steps, ass first.
Luckily, I found a pigeon. So I’m sending this letter now while I wait for a taxi. The policeman who just drove up must know a better place to catch a cab.
B
From the Desk of Cecilia Cinder Charming
Crystal Palace
North Road, Grimmland
Dear Zell,
I should have known there would come a day when I regretted vouching for Bianca White.
When I stepped came out of class, sweaty and footsore, she was nowhere to be found. Phil had a drink with me at the bar halfway down the block, which is sort of our secondary rendezvous point these days. We sat at a sidewalk table while we waited and watched for her.
I tried to tamp down the little flame of fear that she’d gone home without me. Maybe things hadn’t gone well with Rachel or she’d felt ill or something. I wanted to send a pigeon to check, but with Phil there, I decided to wait.
It was nearly dark by the time Phil announced he had to go home. Zell, I’ve never been so frightened or angry—definitely not both at the same time. My frenzied brain wouldn’t even let me choose a first step. I forced myself to breathe while I settled our tab. Perhaps Bianca had gotten carried away with Rachel at the library. Phil agreed to drop me there on his way past.
I asked a lady locking the library doors if Rachel was there. She shook her head and asked me why everyone was looking for Rachel. Then I asked if she’d seen Bianca, and she told me the last time she saw Bianca, she’d called security. I begged her to call Rachel for me because Bianca was missing, and, thank Grimm, she begrudgingly relented.
Rachel’s car arrived just as I was sending a pigeon to Solace. I tried to release it discreetly, but I don’t know how successful I was. For her part, Rachel hadn’t seen Bianca, either, as it had been her day off.
She opened a back door to the library and led me to her office. “I’m going to find Bianca,” she said. “But you have to come clean with me. What exactly is the deal with you all?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, unclear as to which of our many idiosyncrasies she wanted me to explain.
She heaved a sigh at me. “You come and you go, I never know when. Bianca shows up and then disappears. I like her. A lot. But I can’t have a relationship like this. Where do you all go when you leave here, anyway?”
“I really wish Bianca could tell you all this,” I said. “I know she wanted to tell you herself.”
“Well, I don’t know if I can help you if you can’t tell me the truth.”
I sat down in a tatty, green chair. “Rachel,” I started, “do you believe in magic?”
I had to admit her glare was almost as arresting as her smile. “I don’t know,” she said. “Do we have time for this screwing around?”
“If you want to know the truth, we do.”
You know, for a Human, she took things better than I expected. I told her about the Realm and who we were and how we traveled through a portal to get back and forth from the Magic Castle to avoid suspicion. I explained we came back at first only for my classes, but later because we made friendships we cared deeply about. And then told her it was of the utmost importance that we found Bianca soon, that in half a day, everything we knew would be in grave danger unless we were back home.
“Wow.” She slid off her desk and shook her head. “I don’t know whether to believe you or not.”
“Please try,” I said. “I can imagine how this must sound, but without your help, everything and everyone we love will suffer.”
Rachel spent all night calling police stations and hospitals, suggesting we continue to wait at the library for Bianca to come back. When she got tired, she slept briefly, and I tried to close my eyes and focus.
I fumbled in my bag for some chewing gum for my rancid breath when my hand bumped the empty bottle of summoning potion. A quick spark of hope burned out. If only I hadn’t been so careless using it, I could’ve somehow used it to find her. A pigeon arrived from Solace with a terse note saying Bianca had not returned and that she’d send more birds to help find her.
By daybreak the next morning, I was so frightened I could barely feel anything but an uncontrollable mounting panic. And as the birds began to chirp, the library windows lit up with blue and red lights and, beyond them, we heard the sound of Bianca’s voice.
We burst out of the side door to the curb. I was so relieved. Relieved to see Bianca and relieved that Rachel was handling the constables—policemen—who were in possession of our friend. They explained how they picked her up the day before for disturbing the peace at the library. They held her because she didn’t have any identification. The jails were too crowded to hold her any longer, and she’d smartly convinced them to bring her back.
Bianca, on the other hand, didn’t look relieved in the least. “Look, I appreciate the ride, sir,” she said. I’d never he
ard her call anyone sir before. “But I just need you to . . .”
“I explained it to you, miss,” said the taller of the two policemen. “Sometimes we lose things. We’re sorry.”
Tears began to well in Bianca’s eyes. “You don’t understand.”
“It’s okay, babe,” Rachel said, putting her arms around Bianca’s shoulders. “What did you lose?”
Bianca extricated herself from Rachel’s embrace and grabbed my satchel. “CeCi, I need your summoning potion.”
“It’s gone, remember? We’ll get more when we get home. What’s the matter?”
Bianca looked at me and began to cry in earnest, something I’ve only seen her do a handful of times. She held up a bare wrist. “They took my clock bracelet.”
“Who took it? How did they lose it?”
Rachel didn’t wait for an answer. She marched us into her office and pushed us into chairs. “Explain.”
Bianca had managed to pull herself together. “It was a misunderstanding. I was only looking for you.”
“I know. But why didn’t you have any ID? Why were you arguing with the cops? Why is this bracelet so important to you? You know, I think I’ve been a pretty good sport about learning that my girlfriend is Snow White, but what the fuck is going on?”
Bianca’s face blanched.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I had to.”
Bianca began to half sob, half laugh. “You did, did you? Did you tell her who you are?”
“It doesn’t matter who we are. She’s fine with it.” I stood up and walked in little circles, like Darling and Sweetie do when they’re fretting. “I needed her help so we could get you home.”
“I’ll be more fine with it if one of you would explain about this damn bracelet you’re so worried about,” Rachel said.
I held out my wrist. “This is a clock bracelet. It’s a sort of timepiece; I think you call them watches.”
She picked up my hand and brought it to her closer. “Fine. You lost your watch. It’s just a watch.”
“Not exactly. The bracelet itself binds us with portal magic. We only use the watch part to count down.”
Letters to Zell Page 19
