Cinderella: Ninja Warrior

by Maureen McGowan

  She loved him. And as much as she’d tried, she couldn’t shake the ache in her heart, the flutter in her stomach, the tingly feeling in her entire body at the thought of seeing him again, even if he didn’t recognize her.

  The front door opened, and her heart plummeted to the soles of her feet. Ty was holding Gwendolyn’s hand, and she was beaming. Ty didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic, but Cinderella still felt as if her heart had been trampled into a million pieces.

  This was wrong, so wrong. She couldn’t let Ty think Gwen was the girl he was searching for, the girl he’d loved but forgotten. She couldn’t let him believe Gwendolyn’s lies.

  Cinderella stepped forward.

  “Hello there,” Ty said. “ Do you live here, too?” He continued down the steps with Gwendolyn in tow. “Look—I found the girl who I was searching for.”

  “Are you sure?” Cinderella’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Did she try on the slipper?”

  “Better. She had the other one.” He turned to Gwendolyn, who held up a velvet bag, presumably containing Cinderella’s glass slippers.

  “What if she’s tricking you?” Cinderella could barely hear herself over the pounding of her heart. “Maybe using magic?”

  “That’s not possible,” Ty said as he descended a few steps. “The royal wizard, suspicious of my memory loss, cast a spell to protect me from mind control today.”

  Cinderella wished the royal wizard had come with Ty. Surely he’d sense the black magic hanging over the property. Surely he could take down her stepmother in person. But he must not have realized a spell had been cast on him last night, too.

  Even without the royal wizard’s help, she couldn’t let her stepmother win. If she couldn’t make Ty remember her, she would have to use logical reasoning.

  “What if Gwen found the slipper?” Cinderella asked, resisting the temptation to use the word “stole,” even though that was the truth. “What if the girl you’re looking for lost both of her slippers?”

  “That seems unlikely,” Ty said with a frown, but he appeared to be thinking it over. “The slippers are unique and Gwendolyn remembered exactly where she lost the one I found.” Ty turned to Gwen again and wrinkled his brow as if questioning her story, or perhaps searching for memories. He shook his head. “I wish I could remember more about the ball.”

  “We had a fabulous time,” Gwendolyn said, gripping his arm.

  Ty shook his head. “I woke this morning with the most curious mixture of happiness and loss in my heart. I knew I’d found love, I knew I’d found the girl I wanted to marry, but the odd thing was I couldn’t remember her face, her name, how we met, or even why I’d fallen in love. But my only real clue was waking with Gwendolyn’s glass slipper in my hand.”

  “How sweet that you slept with my shoe.” Gwendolyn reached out to touch his face, but he stiffened under her touch.

  Rage pounded up from deep inside Cinderella and she blurted, “It’s my shoe.”

  “What?” The prince turned toward her. He dropped Gwendolyn’s hand and strode down the rest of the stairs. Gwen skittered down behind him and reached for him again, but he pulled away.

  Ty met Cinderella’s gaze and their eyes locked. She didn’t see recognition there. Not with certainty. Yet, she could see his confusion, how he knew in his heart that Gwen wasn’t the one, in spite of the “evidence.”

  Cinderella stepped forward and spoke softly. “The glass slippers are mine, Ty.”

  He started at her bold use of his nickname, but then nodded curtly and said, “Continue.”

  “The slippers were custom-made for me by the royal wizard so I could go to the ball.” She stepped forward again.“We’ve met a few times. We were friends before I knew you were the prince. You encouraged me to enter the magic competition—”

  “Stop this nonsense right now,” her stepmother called out as she thundered down the stairs. “Get away from the prince, you worthless servant girl, or I’ll turn you into a rat.”

  Ty’s head snapped toward her stepmother, who dropped her raised hand and said, “Just a figure of speech.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Ty turned back to Gwendolyn. “May I have the slippers, please?”

  “Why?” She moved them behind her back.

  “If you’ve told me the truth, the slippers will fit you. However, if she’s telling the truth”—he bowed his head toward Cinderella—“they’ll fit her. One way or the other, it should be easy to settle this dispute.”

  Gwendolyn turned toward her mother, panic stretching and tightening her forehead and mouth, and her mother gestured with her head, jerking it from Gwen toward the cobblestone path.

  Cinderella gasped. If Gwen threw the slippers, they’d smash into a million pieces, and there was no way to know for sure that they’d re-form again. The magic might be wearing off. If she couldn’t try on the slippers, she had no way to prove they were hers. Gwen swung her arm and the bag flew up in a huge arc.

  Cinderella used her ninja training to banish fear and panic from her mind so that she could instead focus all her energy on the bag.

  She lifted her arm toward it. Stop.

  The bag stopped six inches above the cobblestones—six inches from destruction.

  “Great job!” Ty exclaimed as he stepped across the drive.“Did you say you entered the magic competition?” He bent down and snatched the bag from midair. “I’m not surprised. I’ll bet you did well.”

  Cinderella stepped toward him, nerves crawling through her like spiders. “I’m still learning.”

  “You’re very good.” The prince held the velvet bag close to his chest to ensure it wouldn’t fall again. “I’ve been training with the royal wizard since I was young, but I can’t imagine pulling off what you just did—especially without a wand. We should train together.”

  Cinderella smiled softly, daring to hope. “I’d like that. Very much.”

  Their eyes remained locked and she saw the same expression of admiration and affection she’d seen in his eyes when they first met, but it wasn’t the look he’d had in his eyes at the ball. It wasn’t even the same way he’d looked at her the second time they’d met, or the third. But his interest and admiration gave her hope that, given a chance, they’d be able to start over.

  Ty stepped off the path and onto the grass. “Seems safer over here,” he said. He removed the slippers from the bag, knelt down on one knee, and held up a slipper for Cinderella. She blushed, and her heart swelled at her love for this boy. A prince, and yet so humble and kind.

  She stepped out of her worn, dirty shoe and lifted her foot. Never breaking eye contact with her, Ty lightly touched her calf and her skin tingled under his fingers as her foot glided easily into the slipper.

  Ty’s eyes widened, and he quickly reached for the second shoe and slipped it onto her other foot. The instant both were on, lights swirled around the slippers, as they had when they were first created, and the glass molded to hug her toes and support her feet like a second skin.

  “Cinderella?” The prince looked up from her shining shoes to her face. “Cinderella. That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, but the back of her throat caught and stole her ability to make words.

  He rose and took her hands in his. “I remember. I remember everything, my love.” He bent to kiss her, and excitement spread through Cinderella’s body like wind skipping through the night forest.

  “No!” her stepmother yelled, and they broke their kiss. “No!”

  Cinderella scrambled to remove the glass slippers; with Ty’s help, she put them back in the bag. There was no way she’d lose them again.

  A bolt of lightning shot toward them and scorched the ground at their feet, sending sparks flying all around them.

  Will Cinderella and Ty escape her stepmother’s black magic?

  To find out, turn to section 9: And So it Ends (page 279).

  Section 8

  FALL FROM GRACE

  8

  Cinderella kept to the e
dge of the village square, enjoying the delicious food that had been set out after the competition. The other competitors reveled in the attention, but she felt self-conscious. Worse, the risk of attention from the wrong people was too high. Her stepmother and stepsisters might be lurking anywhere.

  The beauty pageant crowd had also spilled into the courtyard, but from the few conversations she’d overheard, most of those girls had forgone eating and headed straight for the palace to get bathed and dressed for the ball.

  She still hadn’t spotted Ty. He must have gone to the palace already, probably to help set up.

  “Cinderella, I finally found you.”

  She cringed at hearing her name, but looked up to see none other than the royal wizard headed toward her. She glanced around nervously, worried that his arrival might draw unwanted attention.

  “I can’t wait to train you,” he said.

  She shifted so that his dark gray robe shielded her from the rest of the crowd. “Really?” She had to admit she felt proud. Even though she’d done well, all she could remember right now were her mistakes.

  “Not two events in,” the royal wizard continued, “I decided I wanted to train you, regardless of the outcome of the competition. Your innate magic abilities are very strong. Who has been guiding your training?”

  “No one, Sir.”

  “Well, that’s even more impressive.” He put his hands on his hips and a wind swirled around him, picking up some dust that sparkled in the sunshine. “You are a very special young lady.”

  Special? Her? She blushed and wondered if she dared mention the entrapment spells now. His powers were vast, but so were her stepmother’s. Imagine if the royal wizard turned to stone, right here, because of her.

  “I need to ask you something,” she said. As dangerous as it was, if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t find some way past the entrapment spells, she couldn’t take the lessons. She realized she’d been silly to think her stepmother would let her go out of fear that someone would find out about her black magic. That woman feared nothing.

  “Certainly,” the royal wizard said.

  “Hal!” a woman’s voice rang out.“I’m ready to go. You might not need time to prepare for the ball, but I do.”

  The royal wizard leaned forward, a conspiratorial grin on his lips. “My wife,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “She won’t let me use magic to get her ready, but demands that I snap to her schedule.”

  He rested his hands on Cinderella’s shoulders. “Why don’t we save your question until our first lesson?” Then he spun away so quickly that she lost the chance.

  Her heart sank. Unless the royal wizard could break her stepmother’s entrapment spells, she wouldn’t get the opportunity to take his lessons.

  Cinderella let herself get lost in the crowd of contestants and spectators heading from the square to the palace, and scanned the group as best she could for Ty on the off chance he hadn’t already gone to the palace. Although she tried not to stand out, every couple of minutes someone congratulated her on her performance in the competition—even her spectacular failures.

  Nearing the gates to the castle, disappointed she still hadn’t found Ty, she jumped onto the wall lining the path to get a better look at the crowd. Even if he had to work during the ball, he might have time to chat on the walk over.

  She shielded her eyes with her hand, but instead of spotting Ty she spotted her stepsisters, not ten feet away on the opposite side of the cobblestone road.

  Worse, Agatha spotted her, a questioning look and shock in her eyes. Cinderella dipped her head and crouched down, wishing she could disappear, but when she peeked back up, Agatha had turned away and was pulling Gwendolyn down the path.

  Her heart pounding, Cinderella waited for an opening in the flow of pedestrians below her so she could jump back down and once again stay hidden among the crowd.

  Keeping her head down, she passed through the gates into the castle’s entry hall. She lifted her gaze up to the high-vaulted ceilings and spun with wonder at the glass skylights capturing the spring sunshine. Stone carvings that looked like vines wound their way around the ceiling, encircling each skylight. Portraits of the royal family’s ancestors, all dressed in fine furs and rich velvets, were hung throughout the room.

  Cinderella froze. One of the portraits—which, based on the style of the subject’s clothing, seemed to have been painted at least a century ago—looked very much like Ty. What an interesting coincidence.

  “The ballroom is through these large doors to your right,” a man in a dark gray and burgundy uniform said from the top of a high staircase above her. “And the dressing rooms are through the smaller doors to the left and right of those doors. Left for the men, right for the women.”

  The crowd tittered in excitement and the man continued,“If you sent it ahead, each of you will find your gowns and suits inside and a dresser to help you freshen up.” He bowed slightly. “If you have questions, any one of the castle staff will be most happy to assist you.”

  But where was the rest of the castle staff? If Ty were working as a dresser, helping the men press their suits and shine their shoes, she might not see him until the ball started. Her best bet was to hope he was on ballroom setup duty, or perhaps preparing refreshments.

  As the rest of the girls skipped and ran into the dressing room, Cinderella opened the huge door to the ballroom and slipped inside. Her breath caught in her chest. “Wow!” she said, and quickly raised her hand to her lips, embarrassed she’d spoken aloud.

  But no one seemed to notice. Servants buzzed about the room draping silk covers over chairs and lighting hundreds of candles in huge crystal chandeliers. A team was hoisting an already-lit chandelier up to the ceiling, using thick ropes and pulleys. Another group was adjusting and placing huge arrangements of white, pink, and red flowers on tables covered in splendid damask cloths.

  Cinderella pulled her eyes from the splendor to concentrate on her search for Ty. On a high balcony at the far end of the room, a man leaned onto the stone railing. At this distance, she couldn’t make out much detail, but his clothes seemed especially fine and his hair was tied back from his face. Could it be the prince?

  She shielded her eyes against an illuminated chandelier as it passed between them, but before the man came into focus, he stepped away from the railing and into the shadows.

  Oh well. She wasn’t here on a prince-spotting mission anyway.

  “Where’s your uniform?” asked a woman dressed neatly in a servant’s uniform. She had silvery-gray hair, pink cheeks, and a warm smile. “Go get into it, girl.” The woman nodded toward the wall of the ballroom, where one of the panels between the mirrors turned to let a line of servants holding fresh candles enter the room.

  Cinderella made a beeline toward the panel, and it nearly hit her as it swung into the room.

  “Watch it!” A maid in a blue-and-silver-striped apron nearly crashed into her. “It’s a one-way entrance. Weren’t you here for the briefing?”

  “Sorry.” Cinderella nodded and then saw a waiter in a black tunic with white gloves exiting the ballroom through another panel. Realizing some were for entering and some for exiting, she followed the waiter and pressed the panel open.

  Behind it lay an arched corridor lit by gas lamps, constructed entirely of blocks of stone. At intervals, paths led off to the right, while smaller arches along the left marked the entrances in and out of the ballroom. From this side, they were clearly marked “In” and “Out.”

  Cinderella stepped out of the path of a waiter carrying a huge tray of crystal goblets and decided to head forward, keeping her eyes on everyone she passed, hoping to find Ty.

  “Excuse me.” She pressed herself against the stone wall to avoid four large men carrying an ice sculpture of a swan. Then, as soon as she moved again, an even larger block of ice, carved to look like a fountain and being rolled on wheels, came barreling toward her. She glanced over her shoulder. Everyone had vanished. Was she supposed to outrun it?<
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  She turned and ran, but someone grabbed her arm from the side and pulled her into a tunnel.

  The ice rumbled by.

  “That was close. Thanks.” She smiled at the slight woman who’d saved her, but the woman only scowled.

  “Didn’t you hear the signal?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Cinderella said instead of answering the woman’s question. She had heard a bell ring, but hadn’t thought much of it since the corridors were so filled with sound.

  “I’ve not seen you before.” The woman put her hands on her slim hips. “Who did your training sessions?”

  “I didn’t hear the bell,” Cinderella said, hoping that had, in fact, been the signal. “I was distracted. I’ll be more careful.”

  The woman shook her head. “Where is your uniform?”

  “I was just headed to get changed right now.” She hated to lie, but she also didn’t want to get kicked out of the palace before she found Ty.

  “Well, off you go then.” The woman took her by the shoulders, pointed her down the same side tunnel she’d pulled her into, and gave her a tiny push. “Spit-spot. No time to waste. The first guests will be arriving in the ballroom any moment.”

  Cinderella turned to give a short curtsy and then continued down the narrow, dark hallway. She had to assume the corridor led to where the servant uniforms were stored. Perhaps she’d find something to put on that would help her blend in. Maybe she’d even help out. It wasn’t as if she lacked experience in serving.

  She crossed under a gaslight into a dim section of the tunnel and focused on the dark floor, blinking, hoping to coax her eyes into adjusting to the darkness more quickly.

  “Hello there.”

  She stopped short at the male voice and looked up. “Ty!” Reaching up, she threw her arms around his neck.