by Sarah Noffke
He nodded.
“Well, I forgot to supply the reason that my parents asked the genie for the wish.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t because they wanted you to get into Happily Ever After College.”
She shook her head. “It was because my father was a demon hunter and one had bitten him. They were worried that I’d be part demon.”
“But you were born half-magician and half-fairy,” he argued.
“With demon blood,” she explained.
He understood at once. “The fairy part of you counteracts that, but you still have the blood of the demon. Smart genie.”
“Or conniving little jerk who was messing with my parents,” she imparted. “They simply asked the genie to make me not a demon.”
“You’re not. Not really because the fairy part of you overpowers it,” he reasoned. “Although you still have the blood of the demon.”
“So is that why horses loathe me?” She looked at the stables.
Hemingway followed her gaze. “I’m afraid so. Even if the blood doesn’t do anything to you, they still sense it. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, your blood also gets you into any rave in lower Manhattan and into the underworld.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “It doesn’t make me feel better, but thanks.”
“Come on now. You never know when you’ll need to go down there and fetch someone,” he teased.
“I’ve met enough evil spirits for one lifetime. My demon blood was how I was able to overpower the Deathly Shadow, but it also almost ruined me.”
He nodded, suddenly serious. “I could see it being something hard to wrestle with if you let it loose.”
“Says the guy who is a magician pretending to be a fairy,” she joked, grateful to be able to throw it back at him.
To her relief, he grinned, pressing his hands into his jean pockets. “Well, we all have secrets. Yours is safe with me. I’m guessing you don’t want it out that you have demon blood.”
She shook her head. “No, I have enough problems being part-magician. You know, and so do Penny and the talking squirrel. Which, have you seen that rascal?”
Hemingway pursed his lips. “No, can’t say I have. You’ll have time to look for him because I’m going to give you a free pass for equestrian lessons today and oh, yeah, for the rest of your life.”
Paris laughed. “Oh, so you don’t want me to learn how to ride horses for the ridiculous purposes of creating true love?”
“Well, in all honesty, there is a takeaway for those learning to be fairy godmothers to master equestrian studies,” he explained. “Learning to tame and work with horses is an artform that transfers to crafting romances for some. However, I think you should skip this part of the curriculum.”
“Because I’m going to get stampeded if I try?”
“Exactly,” he affirmed with a wink. “I dare say you can skip a few lessons here at Happily Ever After College and be fine.”
“Why?” She asked but immediately felt like she was fishing. Still, after everything and all the new responsibility, she needed someone objective like Hemingway to tell her why she could skip lessons to be a fairy godmother when so many others had their doubts.
“Because you understand that love is more than an emotion,” he explained, looking out on the Enchanted Grounds with a dreamy expression in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the fairy godmothers, but they’re short-sighted in many ways. They believe that it all boils down to creating a feeling for two people, but they forget that people also think. Too often, people ‘think’ themselves out of love. However, when someone—well, perhaps like you, who takes a more holistic approach—matchmakes, well, maybe, just maybe, you consider how to get two people to ‘feel’ and ‘think’ about each other so that true love blossoms.”
He held up his hands suddenly. “Of course, that’s merely a suspicion from my observations with you, and I realize you’re new to this whole business. So only time will tell.”
“Yeah, only time will tell.” Paris smiled back at him, appreciating the look of pride in his eyes as he regarded her and the Enchanted Grounds that she knew he loved so much. “Well, I better get out of here before I anger your horses. Besides, I have to find my squirrel.”
He nodded while backing toward the stables. “If I had a dollar for every time a student here said that to me.”
“Yeah?” She stepped back toward the mansion.
“Yeah, I’d have a dollar.”
Chapter Twelve
After an hour of searching for Faraday, Paris gave up and headed to Magical Cooking and Baking class. She was thinking of what kind of stew she would put the squirrel into when Chef Ash breezed into the classroom, sketching on his drawing pad. He looked up absentmindedly as if he’d forgotten he was supposed to be teaching a class.
“Oh, hello everyone.” He lowered the pad, then glanced at it again. “I think the recipes I’m currently constructing will be perfect for today’s lesson.”
“You create recipes like you cook food,” Becky corrected snobbishly from the back of the room. “There’s no constructing involved.”
Paris glanced back at Becky the Bully, having about as much of her mouth as she could take for a day. “Grab a thesaurus, genius. Constructing is defined as creating, building, forming, or making. You can use all of those words for making food.”
“I quite like the idea of building flavors,” Christine chimed in.
“It’s simply incorrect terminology according to the FGA board,” Becky complained, crossing her arms over her chest.
Paris was also getting really tired of hearing about FGA, the board, and these uptight agents.
“Hey, Bec, why don’t you stuff it unless you want a pie on your head,” Paris threatened.
The class laughed.
“I think it might improve her appearance dramatically,” Christine joked.
“I appreciate that you two like the terminology that I use in my class to describe cooking and baking,” Chef Ash said diplomatically from the front of the demo kitchen. “I assure you, any matters that the FGA board has with instructors go through our headmistress and shouldn’t be the students’ concerns.”
Paris smirked at Becky before facing Chef Ash. She had a very confident feeling that the socialite was behind many of the problems that resulted in the agents scrutinizing the curriculum at Happily Ever After College.
“As I was saying,” Chef Ash continued. “Inspired by a recent conversation, I’ve been crafting recipes that remind me of Mother Nature.” His gaze connected with Paris momentarily before he directed it around the room again. “Now, although these heavily involve fruits and vegetables to celebrate spring, there’s something else that Mother Nature brings to mind for me.”
“Fertility,” Christine supplied.
Chef Ash cracked a smile and nodded. “That’s definitely true. I can’t argue with that, and we will have a lesson on foods related to that at some point. However, I’m thinking of something else more specifically connected to your purposes as fairy godmothers.”
“Love,” Paris supplied.
Chef Ash’s grin widened. “Bingo!”
“Oh, no fair,” Christine mock-complained. “She’s met Mother Nature.”
“We are in the business of love,” Paris reminded her. “It wasn’t that hard to guess.”
“You’ve met Mother Nature?” Poppy asked.
“That’s incredible,” Lilly Pad said.
“What’s she like?” another student questioned.
“Shorter than you’d expect,” Paris answered simply.
“She also hangs out with Father Time,” Christine bragged.
“I don’t,” Paris stated. Then her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket, which shouldn’t have happened since it was on silent. Plus, no one she knew except her got text messages at Happily Ever After College, and that was because Faraday had fixed up her phone with some special magitech.
Chef Ash, as surprised as everyone els
e in the classroom that she’d gotten a message, arched an eyebrow at her. “You need to get that?”
Paris realized that it might be important, so she retrieved her phone and glanced at it. The message said,
You do hang out with me, and I need you to come to the Fantastical Armory after that class. Subner says to bring cookies. –Papa Creola
Paris couldn’t help but laugh at the message, its timing, and that Father Time signed his text messages.
“Who’s it from?” Christine asked loudly.
Paris put her phone in her pocket, blushing slightly. “Father Time. He wants me to bring him cookies after this.”
“Liar,” Becky fired bitterly. “There’s no way that the father of time eats cookies or hangs out with you, halfling.”
Paris’ phone buzzed again. Getting an encouraging look from Chef Ash, she checked it.
She read the message aloud for all to hear it. “Father Time says that his assistant ‘wants the cookies to be chocolate fudge with chocolate chips.’ And to ‘tell Rebecca Montgomery that she could use better time management skills since she slept in late this morning, after forgetting to do her Cinderella Studies assignment until the last minute and therefore stayed up late last night finishing it.’”
Becky gasped. “How did you know about that? Were you spying on me?”
Paris held up her phone. “No, but apparently Papa was. And, as if. I have no interest in spying on you, Boring Montgomery.”
Before Becky could reply, Chef Ash clapped enthusiastically. “All right, looks like we need to make a great batch of chocolate fudge, chocolate chip cookies for Father Time’s assistant. The timing couldn’t be any more perfect for today’s lesson. It’s as if Father Time knew.”
“Sounds like he did,” Christine offered.
“They don’t have to be great cookies,” Paris imparted. “Father Time’s assistant is kind of a jerk.”
Right on cue, Paris’ phone buzzed in her hand. She glanced at it. The message read:
I think the same about you. –Subner
She sighed and glanced up. “And a peeping Tom.”
Chef Ash chuckled. “Well, as I was saying, this works well for our purposes because today we’re studying ingredients in food that are considered aphrodisiacs. One of the main ones happens to be chocolate—especially for women.”
Many students around the room giggled nervously at the mention of aphrodisiacs.
Waving off the commotion, Chef Ash regained control of the class. “Now, the term aphrodisiacs comes from the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite. She is often symbolized as a dove and depicted in artwork, literature, and religion throughout history. In other classes, you will study Aphrodite and how she’ll help you to better understand love for matchmaking purposes.” His usual casual smile dropped away. “Of course, I hope you do since I believe it’s an important part of your education.”
The stricter standards forced on Happily Ever After College from the agents at FGA were being felt by many—including Chef Ash, it seemed.
“Now, for you as fairy godmothers,” Chef Ash continued, “it will be helpful to know what foods can encourage romance between your Cinderella and Prince Charming. It’s all about setting the mood and food is one of the best ways to do that. Many cultures believe certain foods, drinks, herbs, and chemicals can increase the good feelings related to love and desire.”
“You mean sex,” Christine cut in.
“What I mean is that for whatever reason, there are certain things that put people in better moods, make them more open to romance, and have desires,” Chef Ash explained. “Sometimes your jobs will be pairing up people, but sometimes it’s about taking down boundaries related to inhibition that keep two people from pursuing each other. My job is to give you an arsenal, and your job is to figure out how to use it creatively.”
Paris liked the idea more and more that being a fairy godmother was about creatively using strategy to bring two people together. Like how Mae Ling had set her up, there seemed like there was no one way to orchestrate things for people.
“Common known aphrodisiacs are chocolate,” Chef Ash continued.
“There’s not enough in the world to make Father Time’s assistant loving,” Paris joked, earning laughter from some of the students in the class.
“It sounds like you don’t want that guy being all sexy anyway,” Christine teased.
Chef Ash nodded. “Keep in mind that aphrodisiacs aren’t limited to desire. They should create more of a euphoric feeling, which can lead to romance. Think about how you feel after you eat a piece of my double chocolate ganache cake.”
“Angry because I’ll never fit into my jeans.” Christine chortled.
“Well, simply use some magic, and you’ll be fine,” Paris offered.
“It doesn’t work quite the same for us fairies, lucky magician halfling,” Christine replied.
Chef Ash nodded. “Fairies’ reserves do come from food, but we use magic less readily so we have to use more for the calorie burn. However, my point about the chocolate cake remains. Hopefully, you feel good, albeit full.”
“It’s like a high,” Poppy added.
“Good,” Chef Ash affirmed. “The idea with these ingredients is to create that blissful state and therefore set the stage for love. Who knows some other foods besides chocolate that are considered aphrodisiacs?”
“Oysters,” Lilly Pad offered.
“Ginseng,” Moon Sparkle suggested.
“Asparagus,” Star Ship imparted.
“Very good!” Chef Ash exclaimed, obviously excited that the class was getting into the subject. “Some lesser-known ones are supposedly more potent, although I’m not sure where to source them from. They include bufo toad, horny goat weed, yohimbine, and ambrien, which is the gut of sperm whales.”
“Can we pour our charges some wine and call it a day?” Christine asked. “I’m not sure about gutting a sperm whale, even in the name of love.”
Chef Ash nodded. “Wine works depending on your charges. That’s the reason I’m giving you options. If you have a vegan, asparagus might be an option. Seafood is often associated with aphrodisiacs because Aphrodite was born from the sea. So it’s going to depend on the situation. Today, I want you to construct a dish that’s satisfying to the taste buds and also elicits feelings of love and desire. You’ll find a full selection of ingredients at the back. Please get started, as you only have an hour to prepare your dish.”
The students all took off like contestants on a cooking show, racing to get the best ingredients. Paris didn’t though, noticing that Chef Ash headed her way. He offered her a thoughtful expression as Christine also strode over in her direction.
“Looks like you’re making chocolate fudge, chocolate chip cookies,” he said.
She nodded. “Where do you keep the arsenic?”
Both Christine and Chef Ash laughed. “I’m sure he’s not all that bad,” he offered.
She shrugged. “He apparently doesn’t like that I was born.”
“I feel the same about some people.” Christine glanced over her shoulder to where Becky Montgomery was picking over ingredients, yanking them out of other students’ hands.
“How about you help Paris with the cookies,” Chef Ash suggested before trotting to the back of the demo kitchen to supervise the chaos ensuing as students fought over supplies.
Christine nodded. “Sure, I’ll help you, but I also get to be the taste tester.”
Paris nodded. “That’s great because I have a new reconnaissance mission for us to discuss. Get ready to put your social media knowledge to the test.”
Chapter Thirteen
Paris’ hands shook many times when they were making the cookies for the ungrateful and grumpy Subner. She knew Christine noticed. However, she was glad for the help and that she had a recipe instead of devising one like the others in the class.
If Papa Creola wanted her to come to the Fantastical Armory, she hoped that meant her parents had awoken and she cou
ld finally see them—really see them. Talk to them. Get to know each other.
However, she didn’t want to get her hopes up because it could be as likely that Papa Creola wanted to talk to her. She wouldn’t say that she hung out with the father of time, but over the last week, he had wanted to spend time explaining things to her that she had been confused about. Maybe he felt sorry for her, knowing that she only wanted her parents to wake up.
On the few occasions she’d been in the Fantastical Armory, Papa Creola had explained how time moved differently depending on several factors. He’d also educated her about why her parents had to stay asleep until ready and some of the things she’d experience as a halfling. The last part was mostly conjecture since there was no example in history to draw from. On every such occasion, Subner had sat behind the counter in the shop and grumbled about various complaints.
Paris doubled back to her room with the tray of warm chocolate fudge, chocolate chip cookies, hoping to freshen up in case she was going to be able to see her parents. Christine, sensing that she was nervous about the meeting after class, had simply tried to put her at ease by telling jokes. It had helped, but Paris couldn’t help but feel the jitters. She suspected it would be that way until after the initial real time with her parents. Until then, she had sufficient time to wonder and worry.
“Oh, you brought me some cookies,” Faraday squealed when she entered her bedroom.
She slid the tray of chocolate fudge, chocolate chip cookies onto the dresser and wagged her finger at him. “Don’t touch those. They aren’t for you.”
“Well, then where is my cheese sandwich?” He looked her over as if she was hiding it in her pocket or something.
“It’s in the kitchen still.” Paris rushed over to the vanity, picking up the hairbrush and going to work taming her locks.
“Oh, this is awkward then.” Faraday looked over her shoulder at her image in the mirror. “You’re getting ready by brushing your hair, and you forgot my sandwich. You must have an important meeting.”
