I still didn’t believe he’d drunk it. Not when Jade Blossom had warned him not to. I padded to the couch to search for proof he’d dumped it out. I scanned the cushions for wet spots, the floor for puddles, then leaned over him and looked behind the couch. Nothing.
Donovan’s breathing changed. He held his breath for a moment, then breathed in deeper as though wanting to move closer to me. I glanced at his face.
It was absent of any expression. His sandy blond bangs fell across his forehead, untouched. The lips that had so often twisted into a smirk were slightly open, relaxed. His dark eyelashes were closed, resting against his cheeks.
Perhaps his uneven breathing had been coincidence. Sometimes people breathed oddly when they slept. I kept leaning over him, checking for any twitch in his muscles that would reveal he knew I was there. “Can you hear me?” I whispered.
No response.
It felt odd to be this close to him, close enough I could smell a lingering scent of spices that clung to him. Close enough I could have easily run a finger across his cheek.
He didn’t move. He kept breathing deep. Perhaps this was strike three and he really was out.
Chapter 12
Penny came up behind me. “Come on. If you make us late, Rosamund will totally flip out.”
Kayla smirked as she walked by us. “Looks like Sadie can’t take her eyes off Prince Donovan.”
I straightened, moved away from the couch, and headed to the back room with the other princesses. “The king isn’t really going to kill him after three nights, is he?”
“Of course he is,” Clementia said with a laugh. “And then he’s going to sell us to gypsies.”
We went to the wardrobe rooms and helped each other get back into our gowns. I was especially slow. I’d never tied sleeves onto a bodice or laced a corset before.
We did our own hair. The others not only rolled and braided their hair into flawless coils, they managed to weave ribbons throughout them. I tried, failed, tried again, and finally managed to pin up a lopsided bun. It looked like a small animal was desperately clinging to my head.
When we finished getting ready, Rosamund lifted the edge of a tapestry by the window. A small silver key dangled from a hook on the underside. She inserted the key into a notch on the hearth, and the whole thing slid sideways, fire, smoke and all. The fireplace just stood there crookedly, apparently unaware of the change.
Impossible. No, not impossible, magic. The fairy queen wanted us to come, so she’d provided the portal.
The new doorway opened onto a landing. Shelves of lanterns lined one wall, and a row of black cloaks lined the other. The top of a wide staircase was just visible, leading downward.
Catherine pulled a stick from the woodpile, put the end in the fire, then lit the lanterns one by one. Philippa and Elizabeth handed them out to the princesses closest to the doorway.
While this happened, Kayla surveyed my hair, found it lacking, and undid my bun. “You can’t go out like this. You look more like a trailer park princess than a real one.”
Trailer park. The word meant she had memories from the twenty-first century. I lowered my voice. “You’re from the future too, aren’t you?”
“Quiet,” she whispered. She took a section of my hair and coiled it. “I don’t want anyone to hear I’m not their real sister.”
I glanced at the BPs, all elegant copies of each other. “If they haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t think you need to worry.”
Kayla pinned the first section of my hair up, and went to work on a second, coiling it as well.
“Do you want to be here?” I asked. “Did you wish for this on purpose?”
She let out a grunt. “Of course I want to be here. I used to be an overlooked, unpopular loser. Now I’m rich, pampered, and have my own Prince Charming. What’s to miss?”
“Your family.”
Another grunt. “Trust me. There’s nothing to miss there.”
“Computers. Cars. Phones . . .”
The other princesses put on their cloaks, adjusting the hoods. Rosamund lifted the edge of her skirt so it wouldn’t trip her, then disappeared down the stairs. Beatrix followed.
Kayla worked faster, taming my long hair into an orderly row of coils. “You’ll forget about modern conveniences after awhile.” She said this as though comforting me. “Your old life will fade from your mind. That’s the best part of the magic. Penny and Darby don’t even remember the future. I find myself forgetting more each day.”
“You want that?”
“Who wants to remember the stuff I put up with in high school? Pretty soon I’ll only be Princess Kayla. Loved, revered, and admired. That’s better than a phone.”
I was so surprised, I didn’t know what to say. You didn’t have to abandon modern times in order to feel loved. Then again, what did I know about her life beforehand?
I hadn’t always thought my life was so good. Hadn’t I tried to escape high school through a rock star life just like Kayla had escaped by coming here? But still. “You don’t mind being in a fairy tale?”
“What?”
“The Twelve Dancing Princesses,” I clarified. “Or maybe it was eleven when you came.”
She tipped her head to the side, still not understanding. “You sound as though you drank some of Prince Donovan’s cider. Next you’ll be toasting cats.”
It was no use. If she’d ever known the story of the dancing princesses, she didn’t remember it now.
Kayla slid a couple pins into my coiled hair. “Listen, Sadie, you need to behave tonight. Don’t go acting strange around Queen Orlaith. If you do something that makes her cancel the balls, the rest of us will never forgive you.”
I inwardly sighed. Kayla wouldn’t be any help getting home.
She pinned up the last section of my hair, then stood back, admiring it. “Now you’re presentable.”
She went through the doorway, grabbed a cloak and lantern, and hurried down the staircase to catch up with the others.
I checked on Donovan one last time. He still sat where he had before, gently snoring. It was a low, grumbling sound.
I ducked into the magic doorway, picked up the only remaining black cloak, and put it on. If the story went the way it did in the fairy tale, Donovan would put on his invisibility cloak and follow us. I wished I could close the fireplace so it slid over the doorway, but I saw no way to do that and figured it could only be managed from the princesses’ chambers. We needed the door open to get back to our room.
I took the last lantern and turned toward the stairs. It was only then I realized what a strange place I stood in. The princesses’ chambers were on a top floor, so logically we should have descended into another room in the castle. Instead, the doorway had brought us someplace far away.
Stars spread out overhead, thick and bright. The white marble stairs stretching out below me seemed to go on and on. Even with the lanterns illuminating the way in front of me, I couldn’t make out anything below us. Blackness stretched out on either side of me. The stairs were wide enough that three people could have walked side by side. The princesses, however, went down in single file. I didn’t blame them. No railings lined the staircase, no walls either. Nothing seemed to be keeping the stairs up except magic.
I wasn’t afraid of heights, but walking down these stairs in the dark while wearing a cumbersome evening gown had “bad idea” written all over it. I’d never been graceful, and it would only take one misstep to change this story to The Eleven Dancing Princesses and Their Fatally Clumsy Sister.
Lifting my skirt with one hand and holding the lantern with the other, I took a tentative step down, and then a second. What else could I do? I needed the goblet.
The marble glowed in the spots where the light licked against its surface. The air was still and breathless with a scent of leaves drifting up from somewhere.
Kayla turned to check on me. When she saw me gingerly padding down the stairs, she motioned for me to hurry. I did. A little. I also listened for
Donovan’s footsteps behind me. In the fairy tale, the soldier stepped on the hem of the youngest princess’s dress. She reported the incident to her sisters, but they didn’t believe her. No surprise there. These princesses hadn’t believed me about anything.
I could change things. If Donovan stepped on my skirt, I would turn and snatch his invisibility cloak off. Not only would this reveal him to the princesses, I could use the cloak myself to get the goblet.
I made my way downward, waiting. Donovan didn’t step on my hem. Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t be following me. He had nowhere to pour his drink, and when Rosamund took his cup, it was empty. He must have drunk it.
As I took the next step down, I was jerked backward. Donovan had stepped on my dress.
I spun around and grabbed at the air behind me, trying to catch hold of his cloak. My hand brushed against material. I tightened my fingers around it. For a moment I had the cloak, then he wrenched it from my grasp. I took a step upward, my hand making wide arcs, searching for the fabric again. I’d been so close.
“Sadie!” one of the princesses called sharply from below.
I jolted from surprise and lost my balance mid arm-swing. I hadn’t expected anyone to check on me. At that point, I probably should have let go of my lantern and used both hands to catch myself—as tumbling off the stairs was a quick way to die.
But I could think of another more painful way to die. And it involved dropping my lantern, breaking it so oil spilled over me, and then having my dress go up in flames in the ensuing fire.
I held onto the lantern, realizing too late that if I fell, the lantern would break anyway. The only thing I’d accomplished by holding onto it was that I would now be on fire as I toppled off the stairs.
An arm grabbed hold of my waist and pulled me backward, steadying me. Donovan. It had to be him. He was the only one above me. As soon as I wasn’t in danger of falling, his hand was gone.
Kayla darted up the stairs. “Are you all right? What were you doing waving your arm around?”
I put my hand to my heart, felt the pounding there. It was hard to catch my breath. “I . . . I thought someone was behind me.”
“Who? A giant fly that needed swatting? You could have fallen.”
Penny marched up the few steps separating us, lifted her lantern, and peered around. Yellow circles of lights spotted the marble. “No one followed us.”
“Is everything well?” Philippa called from down the stairs. They’d all stopped and were trudging upward to see what the problem was.
“Perhaps she should return to our room and rest,” Rosamund said. It was more of a threat than a statement of concern.
“No,” I said hurriedly. “I’m fine.”
The princesses gave me exasperated looks, then turned and descended the stairs again. After a moment, I followed them, going slower than the others. I knew that Donovan was nearby.
“Thank you,” I said.
He didn’t answer. Maybe he was afraid that if he gave away his position, I would make a grab for the cloak again.
I slowed my pace, curiosity tugging at me. “Why did you save me? If you’d let me fall, you wouldn’t have any competition for the goblet.”
“Yeah,” his voice came from behind me. “That’s pretty much the story of my life. Those good impulses always get me in trouble.” Before I could comment on that, he added, “But if you grab my cloak again, I’ll toss you over myself. And by the way—you hit like a girl.”
“I wasn’t trying to hit you,” I said, offended.
Kayla turned and looked over her shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”
“No one—ow!” My nose had grown. Not a little bit like last time. It felt like the cartilage had pushed outward an inch. Perhaps the bigger the lies, the more it grew. I put my hand to my face, as if I could push it back into place.
Kayla squinted at me in concern. “Are you okay?”
Donovan’s voice was at my ear. “Whoa—did your nose just grow?”
“What I meant,” I said to Kayla, hand still covering my face, “Is that Prince Donovan concerns me, and I spoke to him as though he was here.”
All true. He was here, so technically I’d spoken to him that way.
Dealing with magic was all about finding the right technicalities.
My nose shrank down to its normal size. I dropped my hand and forced a smile at Kayla. “I’m fine. Really.”
Kayla turned back around, her dress swishing around her feet. “Hurry. The boats are probably already waiting.”
I picked up my pace. Apparently so did Donovan. His voice came near my ear again. “You wished to be Pinocchio? That was your other wish?”
“Of course not. Who in their right mind wants to be a wooden puppet?”
“Do you have a singing, dancing cricket for your conscience?”
“No. I have no conscience, so you should watch your step on the stairs. Ouch!” You wouldn’t think sarcastic comments would count as lies, but apparently they did. My nose grew again. I raised a hand in disbelief. “It was a joke. I have a conscience.”
I put my fingers to the tip of nose to make sure it shrunk again. It did. “Sheesh, whatever power is in charge of magic really should get a sense of humor.”
“So, every time you lie your nose grows?” Donovan stepped beside me. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“And you can lie without any visible consequence. I’ll remember that too.”
The front of the princess line had reached the end of the stairs, and Rosamund walked out into a meadow. The light from her lantern flickered over grass and scattered onto patches of clover. It was an odd thing to find at the bottom of a staircase, sort of like stepping off an elevator and finding a beach. Yet everything about this place seemed real, the stars overhead, the breeze meandering past, the sound of crickets. The night air was tinged with a scent of flowers. Jasmine, maybe.
A couple minutes later I reached the bottom of the stairs. I held my lantern high so I could see as much of the scenery as possible A dirt path stretched out before us, leading through the grass toward a nearby pine forest. We headed down the path in our line of oldest to youngest, which made me feel like the caboose on a princess train.
Chrissy had said that once I went past the first tree, I would be in Queen Orlaith’s domain. Other fairies couldn’t go there, which meant if I got into trouble, Chrissy wouldn’t be able to help me.
I’m not sure why the thought sent shivers up my back. It wasn’t like Chrissy had done much to help me in the first place. But Queen Orlaith was a more powerful fairy, one who commanded plants to grab people and hold them until she decided their fate.
As we walked into the forest, I couldn’t help searching the passing trees for random creatures they’d grasped in their branches. The trees all looked like normal enough. Tall pines, growing so closely together their branches had never filled out. Sort of like a bunch of anorexic Christmas trees.
Fireflies blinked around us, making the whole forest appear to be strung with twinkle lights. Ten minutes later I noticed the other trees. They looked like deciduous trees at the end of fall when just a few leaves stubbornly held on. Only these trees weren’t wood. The moonlight gleamed silver on their branches and the fireflies hovering around them made them glitter. The trees were beautiful, and yet there was a starkness to them—something that spoke of night.
I knew from the fairy tale that the soldier took branches from the trees to use as proof when he reported to the king. Of course, Donovan wasn’t a soldier, he was a thief. He probably wouldn’t be able to resist taking more than a branch. Perhaps if he kept busy stuffing his pockets, he’d miss the boats waiting to take us to the queen’s island.
From beside me, I heard his sharp intake of breath. He’d noticed the silver trees. “Hey, Little Black Riding Hood, what’s the deal with the trees?”
“They’re real silver,” I told him. “It’s in the book.”
He didn’t speak again. I assumed he was entranced
by all the wealth sitting out in the open. The branches of a couple of the pine trees on the path up ahead swayed as he pushed them aside to reach the silver ones.
Not long afterward, I heard the crack of a branch breaking. Several large gray owls took flight from hidden boughs, letting out hoots of protest and circling the trees as they hunted for the offender.
I didn’t see whether they gave up the search. The path took me away.
Not long after, we reached the golden trees. They had a glow of their own, as though they were too proud too fine not to show off a little. What few leaves they had, shifted in the breeze, making the moonlight wink off of them. One grew so close to the path, I stepped into the forest to touch it. The trunk felt smooth and cold, like touching glass. As I examined the delicate leaves, a large brown owl swooped from the sky, screeching angrily. It dived at me, pecking my hand with its beak.
“Ouch!” I jerked away from the branch and jumped back on the path before the owl could strike again.
It glared at me with angry yellow eyes, shot back up into the forest, and disappeared into the darkness of the branches.
Stupid bird. I’d never realized owls were so touchy. I rubbed the back of my hand. A small bloody welt had formed between my knuckles.
Apparently people weren’t allowed to touch the trees. I envied Donovan again for his invisibility cloak. Judging by the owls’ behavior at the silver tree, they suspected someone was skulking around but didn’t know how to find the culprit.
Next we passed the diamond trees. Mixed in among the pines, they seemed like normal trees—rough brown bark, spindly branches, patches of heart-shaped green leaves. But nestled among the leaves at the end of the branches, were cherry-sized diamonds.
I wasn’t a greedy person, but if I hadn’t known I’d be swarmed by angry owls, I’d have filled my pockets. After all, the pearl bracelet I’d put on as a mermaid had traveled with me to this world. Wouldn’t the diamonds come home with me too?
For the next minute I had a heated conversation with myself. The sensible part of me insisted that trying to grab a diamond wasn’t worth the risk. I’d come for the goblet. I shouldn’t do anything that might jeopardize that—like being pecked to death by owls.
My Fairly Dangerous Godmother Page 14
