My Fairly Dangerous Godmother

by Janette Rallison

  She put down the cup, her expression fierce in its frustration. We had to make the switch before she locked the goblet back in the box.

  I moved closer to Jason. “This is it. Ready?”

  Instead of answering, he stepped over to the queen’s table, swaggering as he walked. If he was anxious, he didn’t show it. Perhaps that’s what happened when you were constantly in front of cameras. You became immune to nerves.

  The queen barely glanced at us. She fingered the goblet’s stem, repeating its words, muttering bits of it like a chant. “A tree. A river. What is both tree and river?” She turned the goblet absently. “Roots spread out like rivers. One finds water the other gives it. But love is the gift not the giver. Water. What does water have to do with love?”

  Jason bowed. “Your Majesty, please forgive me for last night. I only meant to refill your cup. In my land, guys do that for girls.”

  Her gaze flickered to him. “You’re a mortal. Tell me, how does your love differ from that of the fairies?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never loved a fairy.” He gave the queen a wink. “I could give it a try, though.”

  One shouldn’t joke with fairy queens, especially frustrated ones. She gave him a look that could have dropped the temperature by ten degrees.

  “Insolent, barbaric creatures,” she muttered. “They’re as weak as wind-blown leaves. How could their love be strong enough to matter?” She waved her fingers in our direction, dismissing us. “Go dance. Your apology is accepted.”

  Jason bowed again. “May I sing for you, Your Highness? My music is the only gift I have that’s worthy of a fairy.”

  When he said the word “gift,” Queen Orlaith’s gaze swung back to him. She seemed to grab onto the word, hold it up and consider it. “Yes, sing about love. Sing to your princess.” She gestured to me. “You sing too.”

  Me? As though stealing a goblet wasn’t hard enough—now I had to do it while carrying a tune.

  Like he’d done before, Jason gave the queen a name of one of his songs. Love for Two. She tapped her wand to the table, and the opening stanzas of Jason’s song filled the room. A change from the slower beat that had been playing. The swirling couples adjusted their pace, laughing as they tried to keep up.

  Jason held out his hand to the queen, serenading her. “I don’t want four solo measures. Don’t need three part harmony. Just the two of us, living our sweet duet.”

  I heard the words, but I didn’t. I was completely focused on the goblet sitting in front of the queen. It was a bit shorter than the one I’d brought. The base was thicker, the rim more delicate. How could switching them possibly fool the queen? And yet what other choice did we have? If I didn’t steal the goblet tonight, in the morning my father would demand either an explanation or Donovan’s execution. This was our last night.

  I reached into my pocket, mouth dry, heart battering against my chest. I pulled the fake goblet from my pocket, holding it low, hidden beneath the edge of the table.

  The queen was watching Jason tolerantly. Probably contemplating all the flaws of mortal love. Her goblet sat in front of her, waiting. My free hand shook. How could I make this work if my hand was shaking? And yet I held the false goblet in my hand. In about thirty seconds it would be my turn to sing. The queen’s attention would swing to me.

  I felt Donovan’s hand brush against mine, give it a squeeze. I knew it was his way of saying he was there, that he believed in me.

  Soundlessly, I reached for the queen’s goblet and grabbed the stem. It felt cold in my hand, hard. I kept my gaze on her. If she glanced at me, her eyes would be drawn to mine, and hopefully not see what I did with my hands.

  I pulled the goblet toward me, held it below the table, and poured its liquid into the fake goblet. In my hurry, I clinked one goblet into the other. Fortunately, Jason’s singing covered the noise. He was almost done with his part. In another moment it would be my turn.

  I placed the false goblet back in front of the queen, slipping the real one into my pocket. Only then did I breathe, which was a good thing since the song was about three seconds from my part. For two of those seconds, I couldn’t recall the words to the song. Ditto for one second.

  Jason stopped singing and motioned to me. The queen’s gaze turned in my direction. I bluffed my way through the first few notes with an improvised, “Oh yeah . . . Baby . . . Baby.”

  In my defense, those are the lyrics to a lot of songs.

  Then I remembered the real lyrics. “You see someone different in me. You see the person I’m trying to be . . .”

  The queen watched me placidly. Her gaze wandered to the other dancers, to their attempts to keep up with the beat. They were failing, but enjoying themselves, laughing at their less-than-perfect efforts.

  I finished my verse, and Jason and I sung the chorus together. The queen lazily reached across the table for her goblet.

  I tensed, had to force the next line out. She was going to notice it was fake. How could she not? She’d stared at the same goblet for nights. I kept singing—reminded myself I hadn’t noticed when Donovan used different coins in his trick.

  She picked up the goblet, about to drink from it. And that’s when I realized our mistake. Even if the queen didn’t notice the goblet looked different, she might notice it tasted different, felt different on her lips. I should have waited until she’d drunk all the elixir before I made the switch.

  I did the only thing I could think of. I drew in a breath, bent over and sneezed on the goblet.

  The queen set the goblet down, repulsed, and wiped the back of her hand on the table cloth. No napkins sat on her table. Apparently fairies didn’t need them.

  “My apologies!” I picked up part of the table cloth and dabbed it to her hand. As I tugged at the tablecloth the goblet toppled, spilling the remaining elixir. Some of which dribbled onto her dress.

  She grabbed the goblet, stood up, and wiped the liquid off her dress. “Stupid girl!”

  I shrank back from her. “I’m sorry that I’m so clumsy.” It was the truth in general, if not in this specific incident. “Clumsiness is part of being a mortal. Like sneezing. And coughing. And sometimes rashes and cavities.” Probably overkill, but I was nervous.

  Still glaring at me, Queen Orlaith put the goblet in the middle of the box, tapped the table with her wand, and the box closed around the goblet, locking it up.

  Mission accomplished.

  The queen surveyed the crimson stain on her dress with anger. “This isn’t a mortal drink I can dissipate with a flick of my wand. This is fairy nectar. And you’ve . . .” She muttered something unintelligible that may have been fairy cursing. “Go!” She waved her hand at Jason and I. “Go dance. I need to see to my dress.” She sent another glare in my direction, just in case I hadn’t caught the meaning of the first one.

  I curtsied, keeping my eyes on the ground. When I looked up again, she’d vanished, gone off somewhere to change.

  I straightened, relief pouring over me so thick and quick I nearly felt dizzy with it. I had done it. I’d stolen the goblet.

  Donovan spoke near my ear. “Brilliant.”

  “I’m not good at a lot of things, but I know how to be clumsy.”

  Jason edged across the ballroom. “Let’s go.”

  For once, all three of us agreed. Donovan and I followed after him, weaving our way around mingling couples.

  Chapter 27

  Donovan sat behind Jason in the boat, hands on the oars, helping him row so the boat would go faster. Jason leaned into the effort. “How come you never helped row earlier?”

  “Because I figured you needed the exercise, oh Prince of Pop.”

  I was too tense to listen to them argue, let alone try to stop them. The goblet felt heavy in my pocket. A golden piece of danger. I kept glancing over my shoulder, half expecting to see Queen Orlaith storming after us. I also worried some gigantic creepy seaweed hand would reach up out of the lake, grab me, and pull me under. Nerves. I was
so not cut out for the criminal life.

  When we reached the other shore, I hauled my skirts up and climbed out of the boat, not caring that it wasn’t a graceful disembarkment. My slippers sunk into the wet soil. I didn’t care about that, either. I ran to the posts where the lanterns waited.

  I had only taken a few steps when I heard the birds. At first they were just a faint, distant cawing. I grabbed a lantern and turned to Jason, who was coming up behind me. I supposed Donovan was somewhere near too.

  “Come on,” I told them and headed toward the trail.

  The trees seemed darker than normal—taller. Their branches moved in the wind, limbs swaying. I hurried into the forest anyway. Birds erupted from the trees, scattering into the air. Some circled upward like smoke, their cries slicing into the night. Each caw sounded like the word ‘cup’!

  I stared at them, a cold dread spreading over me.

  “What’s wrong with the birds?” Jason asked.

  Donovan’s voice came near my side. “Are they saying, ‘cup’?”

  I hadn’t been the only one who heard the word in their calls. I swallowed hard. Somehow the birds knew I had the goblet. They must be like store alarms that went off when shoplifters took something. We’d tripped a magical alarm.

  Without another word, we set off in a sprint. The lantern jiggled in my hand. I worried I would knock the flame out and we’d be stuck wandering the forest in the dark, but I didn’t slow down.

  The birds circled upward above us, a dark tornado of wings flapping in alarm. “Cup! Cup!” they cawed. I waited for them to dive, to swarm down pecking and clawing at us. I scanned the trees for a loose branch I could use as a club—anything, any sort of weapon.

  Then with one mind, the birds beat off toward the lake, an angry fluttering mass, swooping and calling.

  “They’re flying to tell the queen,” Donovan said. He took the lantern from my hand so I could run faster. “Hurry!”

  Jason led the way. Donovan ran between us, the lantern bobbing and jerking in the air a few feet in front of me. I tried to keep up with him, but silk slippers weren’t meant for running. Neither were mountainous ball gowns and corsets.

  How long had it taken us to walk through the forest? Fifteen minutes? Perhaps twenty? It shouldn’t take long to run the distance. Five minutes, ten tops. Could we make it to the meadow before Queen Orlaith found us?

  Donovan must have checked on me and seen I was falling behind. He slowed his pace. He was choosing to stay with me rather than escape without me. Part of me wanted to hug him for being so selfless. The other part wanted to yell at him to get away while he could. I pushed myself to run faster so he could too.

  We passed the diamond trees and went through the ones made of gold. Against the lantern light, their bare branches seemed like rows and rows of jagged spikes. The wind picked up, flooding through the forest in a way that made the boughs lash up and down. It was only the wind, I told myself. The trees weren’t really shaking their branches threateningly. They weren’t reaching out for me with spindly fingers.

  As I ran, the goblet slapped against my leg. My slippers had no traction and I kept stumbling, tempting an all-out fall. We passed by the last of the gold trees and fled through the silver. The wind blew bits of dust and bark, making it hard to see. Five minutes, I told myself, I was only five minutes from freedom.

  As we rounded a bend in the path, I slid and pitched forward. The only nice thing about running in a ball gown with a huge poofy skirt is they do a decent job of breaking your fall. This advantage unfortunately is counteracted by the fact it’s impossible to get up quickly once you’ve fallen. I cursed and struggled with my dress. Donovan heard me. The light bobbed back to me. I felt his grip on my hand and he pulled me to my feet. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t bother to brush myself off before taking off in a run again. “Whoever named these shoes ‘slippers’ got it right. That’s what they do.”

  A pine branch whipped out, striking my neck and chin. I pushed it away and kept running, hands raised in protection. A few feet later another branch swept down in front of me. This one larger. It caught on the lace of my sleeve and yanked me backward. I pulled frantically at the branches, ripping the lace to free myself.

  I sprinted forward again, breathing hard. A few moments later, another branch swung into the path in front of me. I dodged out of the way, barely managing to avoid it. “The trees are trying to stop us.”

  Actually not us, me. Either the trees didn’t see Donovan and weren’t smart enough to figure out the bobbing lantern wasn’t levitating by itself, or they knew I had the goblet and were only charged with stopping me. It’s hard to judge how smart trees are.

  “Hurry!” Donovan called. His voice was nearly lost in the angry howl of the wind and the answering moan of branches.

  I ran faster, listening for the sound of the birds. They would come back, and when they did, they would lead Queen Orlaith to us.

  I couldn’t see Jason up on the path anymore. The other princes could say what they wanted about his lack of rowing ability, but when it came to running through a creepy forest, the boy could put on some serious speed.

  How much longer till the trees thinned and we could see the meadow? A minute? Three? I was panting, and each deep breath I drew came in sharp contact with the corset. Donovan slowed his pace so he wouldn’t get too far ahead.

  “I’m holding you back,” I said. “Run up ahead and call Jade Blossom and Chrissy. By the time you work the deal out, I’ll be there.”

  “I can’t leave you. We’ve only got one light.”

  “Go. I can see enough to stay on the path.” The moon was bright and the magical trees had a glow that faintly illuminated everything around them.

  Donovan didn’t say anything. He didn’t run ahead.

  “The sooner we call our fairy godmothers, the sooner we’ll be safe from Queen Orlaith.”

  The light remained in the same position, a few feet ahead of me. I knew Donovan though, knew what to say to make him go ahead. “When the birds come back, they’ll probably search for the lantern. I’ll have a better chance of making it through the forest if they follow you instead of me.”

  Donovan said something, maybe swore in frustration. I couldn’t quite tell. The wind howled angrily, tossing his words away before they reached me.

  But my request had the desired effect. The light bounced away from me and down the path. Donovan was fast—should-be-in-track fast. Had-practice-outrunning-the-police fast.

  I chased after the light, watching it grow smaller. A few moments later, it went around a curve and blinked out of sight. I was alone. Alone in the near darkness with flailing branches that struck at me.

  Twice more tree limbs swung down and caught on my dress. I had to break off the gripping twigs to free myself. Each moment I expected to hear the call of the birds overhead, circling the forest to find me. Perhaps they were already above me, leading the queen to my location.

  Where did the forest end? Why couldn’t I see it yet? Had the queen put a spell on it so it never ended? Perhaps I would eventually fall down exhausted, and then the trees would grab me in their branches and hold me fast.

  I ran on, tired and panting from fear as much as exertion. And then the trees thinned, and I saw the grey shimmer of moonlight on the meadow ahead.

  I was nearly safe. When I passed the last tree, I would be out of Queen Orlaith’s land.

  A few steps later I could see people: Jason and Donovan talking with Chrissy and Jade Blossom. A nightlight glow surrounded Chrissy, and her wings glimmered on her back. Her hair was no longer pink, but a blonde that shone with intertwined starlight. The modern clothes were gone, replaced by a pale flowing dress.

  Jade Blossom stood next to Chrissy, dark hair laying down her back in sleek waves. Her glow had a blue cast to it, and veins of green ran through her wings, gleaming. Jason stood facing the fairies, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath. Donovan had taken off his cloak
, and he stood in front of the fairies, turning so he could check the forest. He was waiting for me.

  I pushed myself to go faster, willed myself to sprint the rest of the way. We were nearly safe. We just had to complete the deal with our fairies and then we could go home. Home. I wanted to see my parents so badly it felt like a physical ache lodged in my heart.

  I should have noticed Donovan’s tense stance and his angry expression. I should have guessed what it meant, but I was too glad to see the fairies. I didn’t pick up on the tone of the conversation until I came within earshot.

  “Absolutely not,” Jade Blossom said. Her eyebrows lifted in disbelieving peeks. “However, if you give me the goblet, I’ll see what I can do to help the others.”

  Chrissy turned a triumphant smile on Jade Blossom. “Your guy is trying to swindle magic out of you because he doesn’t have the goblet.” She fluttered her hand, shooing him away. “Nice try, Donny. No goblet, no dice.”

  “Look,” Jason cut in. “I’m the innocent one in all of this. I didn’t do anything to deserve being here, but I still helped get that cup. Somebody had better send me home.”

  Donovan glanced at the path and saw me coming. Relief washed over him. “Sadie!”

  The wind let out an offended sounding howl, slashing tree branches in my direction one last time, but they were too late. I passed the last tree and stumbled up to everyone.

  Donovan took me by the arm, supporting me. “Show them the goblet. Tell them we’re working together.”

  “We are,” I panted to Chrissy. I pulled the goblet from my pocket and held it up.

  Chrissy let out a squeal of happiness. Jade Blossom licked her lips. They both wanted it.

  “The price has changed.” I had planned on saying this with confidence, firmness. Instead I just tried to get enough air in my lungs between words. “You have to send all of us back to our homes.”

  Jade Blossom’s wings flared open, fast, haughty. “The arrogance of mortals. You don’t set the price—not when Queen Orlaith’s servants swarm the skies on their way to find you.” She turned her glare on Donovan. “You had skill and invisibility. How could you let this girl best you? How could you let her drag you into a hopeless partnership?”