My Unfair Godmother

by Janette Rallison

  The dark glare Hudson was shooting in my direction suddenly made sense. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I never meant—”

  He didn’t let me finish. “I know what you meant. Robin Hood told me about your wishes and the fairy godmother you set on unsuspecting people. We had a long talk about it. And when I refused to take a blood oath to join Robin Hood’s men, they tied me up, blindfolded me, and left me on the road to town.”

  I reached out and touched his arm. I’m not sure he even felt it underneath the chain mail. “I’m so sorry, Hudson.”

  He looked past me as though he hadn’t heard my apology. “Before they left me there, they took my shoes and clothes, everything down to my boxers.”

  I let out another gasp. What could be worse than being tied up and left in your underwear on a road in the Middle Ages? “I’m really, really sorry.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t there for long. A group of nuns on a pilgrimage came by and found me.”

  Being found half-naked by a group of nuns. That would be worse.

  “I’m sure my fairy godmother will send you back when she finds out about the mix-up,” I said.

  He cocked his head like he had his doubts about that. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy sleeping on straw mattresses and brushing off fleas every morning, but I have a life to get back to in the twenty-first century. So when exactly will that be?”

  Hudson suddenly seemed so imposing standing there in his chain mail. I took a step away from him. “I don’t know. I’ve been calling her all morning …” I let my voice trail off, feeling miserable. “She might expect me to stay here until I marry King John and have his baby.”

  Hudson coughed in disbelief. “You wished to be queen?”

  “No, it’s just that—”

  He didn’t let me finish. “King John isn’t some fairy tale Prince Charming. He’s in his thirties and is out of his mind. Literally. If you look deep enough into his eyes, you can read a little sign that says, GONE TO LUNCH. TRY BACK LATER.”

  “I don’t want to marry him. I’m not going to if I can help it. I never wished for …” It suddenly occurred to me that the best way to get out of this wish was to break the chain of events right at the beginning of the story. If I escaped from the castle now, Rumpelstiltskin wouldn’t come, and King John wouldn’t want to marry me for my gold.

  I took hold of Hudson’s hand, trying to make him feel my urgency through his leather glove. “You could help me escape. My entire house was brought here. We could take the things we need and hide out with my family somewhere safe until my fairy godmother sets things straight.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “You brought your family here too?”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  He let out a grunt. “Nick barely survived high school PE. How could you send him to a place with wild animals, bandits, and sword-wielding knights?”

  “It’s not like I asked for this,” I said.

  Hudson pulled his hand away from mine with an unsympathetic sigh. “What did you ask for, Tansy?”

  My hand felt small and alone, rejected. Telling him my wish would only intensify that feeling. I hadn’t just wished for wealth; I’d wished for unending wealth. I’d been greedy.

  I turned and walked to the window. The sun blazed high in the sky, but the stone sill was cool to the touch, as though even the sunlight couldn’t warm this place.

  Hudson followed. He put one hand on the wall and leaned toward me. “I can’t imagine that you wished to be imprisoned in the Middle Ages … although you wished for Robin Hood to come to Rock Canyon and hold up stores, so who knows?”

  “I didn’t think Robin Hood was going to hold up stores when I wished for him to come.”

  “Oh. You just wanted some guy with a criminal bent you could make out with in Walgreens?”

  “No,” I said hotly, “I didn’t know that was going to happen either. Wishing for Robin Hood was something I accidentally did when I was complaining about the police. Which, you know,” I said, waving a hand in his direction, “sort of makes the whole thing your fault since you were the one I was complaining about.”

  Hudson rolled his eyes.

  I wanted to change the subject. “So how did you become one of King John’s guards? What happened after a bunch of scandalized nuns found you?”

  “They weren’t scandalized,” he said. “They were very kind. Especially Sister Mary Theresa.” The way he said it made me wonder who she was. I imagined her as some young novice who, upon seeing Hudson’s broad shoulders in all of their glory, had some serious second thoughts about taking vows.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Really? And what did Sister Mary Theresa do?”

  “After I was fed and clothed, I was taken to the Sheriff of Nottingham,” Hudson said, pointedly leaving out the details I’d asked for. “He didn’t hire me because I wasn’t good enough with a bow or a sword, but I’m a head taller than most of the people in the Middle Ages, and the castle is always in need of men. He gave me a letter of recommendation and I joined the garrison. I used to have the night shift walking the parapets, but two days ago I was promoted to guarding prisoners. I’ve been trying to …” He surveyed me and then must have thought better of whatever he was going to say because he didn’t finish the sentence. “So, now that I’ve told you my story, tell me yours.”

  Outside in the courtyard, a young boy was mucking out the stables. A couple of peacocks wandered near the stable door, picking at the ground. It seemed unreal, like a TV show. But it wasn’t. It was right outside, and the world I knew was far away in the future. It lay in the seeds of trees that hadn’t even sprouted yet.

  I wasn’t sure if I could trust Hudson, but he was part of my world, and he was also Nick’s friend. Those facts made it feel like he was on my side. So I told him the truth. “I wished for a way to change things into gold. It seemed like a nice safe way to make money.”

  “But?”

  “But Chrissy sent me back to the Middle Ages to be the miller’s daughter in Rumpelstiltskin.” I expected Hudson to laugh or tell me I had gotten what I deserved, but his expression stayed serious and intent. Since he didn’t comment, I went on. “Clover—that’s her leprechaun assistant—says I can go home when I’m through with the fairy tale, but I don’t want to marry King John. I mean, I’m seventeen and he’s threatening to kill me in the morning. That’s not a match I ever envisioned for myself. I think I’m due for a wish refund.”

  Hudson pondered this. “You don’t know much about fairies, do you?”

  “I think I could pick one out of a crowd pretty easily.”

  He shook his head. “People from our time don’t understand fairies. Here in the Middle Ages, they’re as common as unicorns and dragons—all right, that’s still pretty uncommon, but everyone avoids the fay folk. Fairies are mischievous troublemakers. Your godmother is probably out somewhere right now having a good laugh at your expense.”

  “No, she’s not like that …” I was certain he was wrong. Although, now that I thought about it, Chrissy had admitted to turning some random kid into a squid. Maybe this trip was just one step better than waving my tentacles around in an aquarium.

  Or several steps worse.

  Hudson lowered his voice. “While the nuns took care of me, I told Sister Mary Theresa I was from the future. It took me a while to convince her I wasn’t crazy. If anybody here calls you addled, it’s not a compliment. But eventually she believed me. Before I came to work at the castle, she sent me to King Richard’s old wizard, Bartimaeus the Proud.” Hudson cast a glance back at the door, making sure we were still alone. “After Richard died, King John appointed his own wizard. The new wizard broke Bartimaeus’s wand and banished him from court. Now he lives in a village ten miles east of here, using what magic he has left to make a living. Bartimaeus and I made a deal. While I work as a castle guard, I’ll try to find the thing he needs to repair his wand and when I give it to him, he’ll send me home. I can ask if he’ll help you and your family too.”
r />   This was the first good news I had heard since I’d found myself in the land of the toothless and smelly. I turned from the window to face Hudson. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  “Nick’s my friend.”

  The sentence felt like a rebuff, but I tried not to show it. “What does the wizard need to repair his wand?”

  Hudson’s eyes swept back to the door. He whispered, “The Gilead.”

  I didn’t know what that was. “The what?”

  “It’s a plant Bartimaeus enchanted so its sap can fix broken things and heal people. King Richard was supposed to take the Gilead to France while he fought King Philip, but he thought the journey would kill the plant, so he only took a few cuttings. He figured the cuttings would keep until they were used up, but the magic only lasts for a few months once a branch has been taken from the plant. So Richard died during the siege of Chalus, and King John still has the Gilead somewhere.”

  “What does it look like?” One thing I’d already noticed about the Middle Ages was that there were way more plants than people.

  Hudson held his hands a basketball’s width apart. “It’s a small, spindly plant with tiny leaves. I’ve already searched the grounds and most of the castle. It’s probably in one of King John’s private rooms. I was hoping I would eventually guard those rooms …” His words faded off and he smiled. “But in three days you’ll be queen, and you’ll be able to go wherever you want. It will be easy for you to get it.”

  The word “queen” landed on my ears with a jarring clank. Other things would also happen when I was queen. Things I didn’t want to think about.

  I stepped away from Hudson. “You can’t ask me to marry some horrible old crazy guy. Why don’t you just wait until King John’s eating dinner and tell the other guards he asked you to get something from his room.”

  Hudson shot me a look to let me know I was being unreasonable. “Do you know what would happen if I got caught snooping around the king’s rooms? And besides, since when did you get picky about men? I thought you liked the horrible type.”

  “Just because I dated Bo doesn’t make me an idiot.”

  “Yeah, technically it does.”

  “No,” I said, my hand clenched. “It makes me a person who made a mistake.”

  “And Robin Hood?”

  “I never wanted him as a boyfriend.”

  “That’s not what he says. He says you had a crush on him, and when he spurned you, you sent him back.”

  “Well, he’s not the most reliable source, is he?” I turned away from Hudson and looked out the window again. Fine. If he wouldn’t help me escape, I’d find a way to do it myself. Before morning, this room would be filled with spools of golden thread. I could braid some of it together and make a rope. After all, it worked with Rapunzel’s hair.

  That’s how you know you’re really desperate—when you start making escape plans based on what worked for Rapunzel. Thinking out loud, I said, “How thick would a golden rope have to be to support my weight?”

  I shouldn’t have thought out loud. Hudson put his hand in front of the windowsill. “Don’t you dare escape on my watch, Tansy.”

  I was about three stories up. The cobblestones on the ground seemed so far away, but what choice did I have? “I’m not doing anything that’ll result in me marrying King John and having his baby.”

  “Okay. Don’t.” Hudson moved in front of me, blocking the window so I couldn’t see past his crimson surcoat. “But don’t mess up my plans or do anything that will send me to the stockades. I’m going to make sure there’s a guard underneath your window. Don’t even think about climbing down it.”

  “If you escaped with me, they couldn’t punish you.”

  “And if I escaped with you, I couldn’t get the Gilead.”

  “Chrissy will fix things.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m placing my bets on the wizard.”

  I stomped my foot in frustration. “You’re trapping me in here?”

  “No, you did that with your wish. I’m trying to get us home. If you want to escape, do it sometime when I’m not guarding you.” Hudson moved away from the window. “I’d better go so Rumpelstiltskin can come.”

  Hudson’s casual tone irked me even more. “Don’t say his name.”

  “What?”

  In a voice so low it was barely more than a hiss, I said, “If he knows that I know his name, he won’t ask me for it in a year, will he? That’s how I save my baby.”

  “The baby you’re refusing to have?”

  “Yes.”

  “If things go well, neither of us will be here in a year, but fine, my lips are sealed. I’d better go before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named comes.” Hudson strode back to the door, opened it, then turned and cast me one last glance. My hands were still balled into fists.

  “I think you’re supposed to be crying,” he said and closed the door.

  I didn’t cry. I took off my shoe and threw it at the door.

  • • •

  I didn’t stay barefoot for long. The stone floor was cold, and it’s hard to pace with only one shoe. As I walked around the room, I thought of my family’s situation. Hudson was young, strong, and tall even by twenty-first-century standards. Here in the twelfth century where people were naturally shorter, he wasn’t having any trouble taking care of himself. But Dad and Sandra were librarians, and Nick was an underweight computer nerd.

  These were not stunning recommendations for life in the Middle Ages.

  I hoped my family had enough sense to stay barricaded in our house and barter off a few belongings when they needed more food.

  As I paced, I sent irritated looks at the door. It was just like Hudson to end up guarding me. He probably thought my stint as the miller’s daughter was some sort of divine justice for accidentally sending him here.

  I purposely stayed far away from the spindle that sat on the stool. I had the vague fear that Chrissy might have mixed up my wish even more than I’d realized, and if I pricked my finger on the spindle, I would fall into an enchanted hundred-year sleep.

  Every once in a while, I went to the window and looked out. Just as Hudson had said, another guard was posted down below.

  I wouldn’t make the mistake of telling him my plans again. We weren’t working together. Even though he told me he wasn’t forcing me to marry King John, he might as well have been, since he wouldn’t let me escape. See if I helped him find his stupid plant.

  I watched the guard below me for a while. Occasionally he glanced up at the window, but mostly he leaned against the castle wall. When the room was full of gold, I could drop a wad of it on his helmet. That ought to knock him out for a while. Then I could climb down a braided rope, bribe a stable-hand into giving me a horse, and sneak out of the courtyard. After I returned to my family, we could hide in the forest until Chrissy showed up to set things right. I would tell her about Hudson. She’d probably be so apologetic for Clover’s mistake that she’d grant him a wish before she sent him back home.

  I considered what he might wish for and realized I might find myself poofed to some remote spot in the Arctic. I decided to tell Chrissy not to grant him any wishes.

  As the day progressed, people came and went in the courtyard. The smell of something cooking reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since a few bites at breakfast. Long shadows encompassed most of the room, until only a pale ribbon of light streamed through the window and a chill crept across the floor.

  Before it went completely dark, Hudson came in and lit the torch by the door. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” he asked.

  I had wrapped the blankets around me and was sitting on the pile of straw. “I haven’t escaped. You still have job security.”

  He walked to the window and pulled the shutters closed. “It’s best to keep out as much of the night air as you can.”

  He came toward me and it was only then that I noticed he was carrying something. He held out a large chunk of dark bread, torn in half. “Prisoner
s don’t get dinner, but guards do. I thought you might be hungry.”

  Part of me wanted to refuse. He was, after all, keeping me prisoner. But I was hungry, and there was no point in turning down his gift. Especially when he was offering me part of his own dinner.

  “Thanks.” I took the bread from him and bit into it. The bitter taste of rye filled my mouth. I didn’t like rye bread, but I was hungry enough that I ate it anyway.

  While I ate, a rat came out from the straw and peered at me, perhaps waiting to see if I dropped any crumbs. I gasped and jerked backward. Hudson drew his sword and turned to see what had startled me. When he noticed the rat, he laughed and sheathed his sword. “If you don’t like vermin, you chose the wrong place to vacation. They’re everywhere.” He took a stone from his pocket and tossed it at the rat. The animal darted across the floor and disappeared through a crack in the wall.

  I ate quicker, watching the corners of the room for more rats to appear.

  Hudson took another rock from his pocket, tossed it casually up in the air, and then caught it. “Any sign of you-know-who?”

  “No,” I said.

  “I told you that you needed to cry. That’s part of the story.”

  “It’s hard to get all teary about my impending death when I know someone will come rescue me.”

  Hudson’s voice turned soft, almost lulling. “So what are your new escape plans?”

  “I don’t have any.”

  As soon as I said the words, I felt the sparklers flickering around my head. The room instantly became brighter, lit up by my liar’s hat.

  I shot off of the straw. Some of the sparks landed on the blankets. They were orange embers at first, then darkened into tiny black spots. Luckily none fell on the straw. I took backward steps away from the pile, and sparks streamed around my shoulders onto the stone floor.

  Hudson surveyed me calmly. “You shouldn’t lie near flammable things.”

  “I don’t have any escape plans.” Which was true. I only had some thoughts on the matter. The hat apparently didn’t agree. The flames grew stronger.

  Hudson squinted at my head, reading the words I knew were lit up and marching across my forehead. “Somehow I don’t think that’s the truth.”