

## The Shattered Shoe

# The Pernicious Princess Trilogy

# Book One

# by Erin Evans

Copyright 2013 by Erin Evans

Smashwords Edition

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### Rook di goo, rook di goo!

### There's blood in the shoe.

" _Cinderella," by Joseph and Wilhelm Grimm_

# Chapter One

The minute hand on the clock quivered, moving straight up with a tick. Five o'clock.

"Yes!" I cheered in a whisper, pumping my fist in the air. My eyes were dry from the unblinking stare, but I was pretty certain I was getting somewhere with the mind-control. That last second had seemed just a _hair_ shorter than normal.

"Closing time, Morgan," my boss yelled from the other room where he had been, presumably, working.

I glanced over my shoulder at his partially opened door, my purse slung on my shoulder, car keys in hand. "Umm ... yeah ... I guess it is." I shuffled some papers around on my desk and slammed a few drawers. For extra believability I tapped some nonsense on my keyboard. "That about does it for me!" I called.

"Feed Milton before you go, will you?"

I made a face, gritted my teeth, waved my arms in the air and said sweetly, "Sure!"

Throwing my purse down I stomped over to the corner of the small office, where a water cooler shared space with two cat bowls and a litter box. Also my responsibility.

"Come here ... you mangy ferret," I whispered the last bit under my breath. I'm not sure if anyone else had applied for this minimum wage, secretarial job, but I liked to think I beat them out by gushing over the flea ridden beast. Mom had always said that people loved it when you praised their kids and pets.

She'd also said that I was destined for greatness and that Dad would finally find one of the elusive artifacts he was always chasing and we would buy our own island in the Caribbean. Guess you can't be right a hundred percent of the time.

I scooped some noxious smelling goop into the bowl and set it gingerly down on the floor, jumping back just in time to avoid the swipe of claws from the monster hidden behind the water cooler.

"Not this time!" I jeered quietly.

Milton growled like an earthquake and moved to chow down, still rumbling away.

"You're welcome, your royal crankiness," I hissed. "I'm heading out!" I called and heard a distracted grunt from the other room.

The heat was still heavy in the air, radiating upward from the concrete. The inside of my car was one of the levels of hell. I'd forgotten to put up the sun shield. I debated rolling the window down to let out some of the hot air but decided to just let the a/c go to work. I was always sure that the inside air would invite in all its outside buddies and just make matters worse.

There was a colorful sticky note in my handwriting, taped to the steering wheel. It said: _Flowers._ I groaned and banged the side of my head on the widow a few times, giving myself a third degree burn.

"Ouch!" I rubbed the skin and pointed all the air vents at my face, waiting for the sauna to dissipate.

I finally felt like I wasn't in danger of dehydrating and pulled out into traffic. I had to make a decision at the fourth intersection. Left or right? Home ... or duty. I was in the left turn lane when I saw my Nana's face hovering in my vision.

" _How was your mother's grave, Morgan?" she asked. "Are they mowing it properly? I thought I saw some weeds the last time I was there."_

What I _wanted_ to do was drive to my little third story, studio apartment, put on my pjs, and eat the half gallon of ice cream in my freezer while finishing off the novel I was reading.

I groaned and jerked the wheel to the right, cutting off a truck whose driver laid on the horn and gave me the finger as we came within millimeters of swapping paint.

"Sorry!" I yelled, stepping on the gas and spinning around the turn. I was planning to visit Nana at the home tomorrow, and while she was no longer able to make our yearly pilgrimage to Mom's gravestone, that wouldn't stop her from asking. I just couldn't lie to her.

The florist kept shooting me anxious looks from behind the counter, maybe because I was muttering to myself, but I made my selection and was back on the road in record time. I glanced at the clock. It was way too hot to go now. I'd have to wait until after dinner, which meant my plans of a quiet evening in pjs were gone.

I sighed.

Someone had parked in my space at the apartment complex, and while rear-ending them would be satisfying, I doubted it would feel as good in the morning. I parked down the street like a model citizen and restricted myself to evil glares as I passed the thief.

It didn't matter. I would be inside in a few minutes. I could get out of this ridiculous pencil skirt and heels, that I thought made me look more professional, and into some jeans and flip flops.

I counted the stairs as I climbed, trying to enjoy the exercise. It was good for my calves and it saved me gym fees. Other people _paid_ to climb stairs! I got to do it for free.

I was in the home stretch, my door in sight, when I noticed the yellow sticky on my door. UPS had tried to deliver a package. I slumped. I wasn't expecting anything. I could pick it up tomorrow.

But the complex manager hated it when he had to store packages for any length of time and I really wanted him to get someone out to fix my leaky faucet. I turned around, trudged back down the stairs and across the blistering asphalt to the office.

The package was long and narrow, like a rolled up poster, and had a wide variety of international stamps on it. The return address was blurred, but I recognized the handwriting. It was from my dad.

I sighed. My birthday had been two months ago. It figured that he was just now remembering. And with no return address I wouldn't have anywhere to send his yearly Father's Day card that invariably would come back to me with "Return to Sender: No Such Resident" marked in large red ink.

It had always been like this. He wasn't so much neglectful as just MIA. He sent presents every year at the appropriate times... or around the appropriate times. He called on my birthday... or the month after. He showed up for important dates in my life, like my college graduation. Granted, he showed up a week late and at the wrong college, but it was the thought that counted.

It wasn't that he didn't care. It was just that he cared too much about too many things. Nana called him a "dreamer" in the tone of voice she reserved for phone salesmen and TV evangelists.

Dad was always on the hunt for something. Usually things that the rest of the rational world agreed did not exist. This didn't stop Dad from looking for them though. In fact, he said it gave him an advantage, less competition.

I never got what Mom had seen in him. He was hardly ever around, and when he was he was just marking time until the next big idea struck. But she had looked at him with shining eyes and never once complained about the two part time jobs she had to work to support him.

When I was little I had worshipped him. He could take a fairytale and make it come alive. It _was_ alive for him. In fact, I was pretty sure he still believed in mermaids and unicorns and other mythical things.

I think the moment it changed for me was the night I found my mother twisting her newly naked ring finger, and crying her eyes out at the kitchen table. Our power and water stayed on that month, but there were months when they didn't, and although my dad made heartfelt promises, he never did get her wedding rings back from the pawn shop.

The shine wore off his charm for me. I kept quiet out of respect for my mother. In some ways she had been the worst dreamer of the two, for she had believed in him with her whole heart. I think she was sure, up to the very second she died, that he would somehow come back to be at her side. Like always, he arrived four days after her funeral.

I took after my Nana, my mother's mother. Sure, I got my athletic build and thick brown hair from my father, and my wide smile and perky nose from my mother, but my personality was from Nana. We were practical, sensible, realistic people. The flowers for Mom's grave were the only fanciful thing she indulged in.

I did it to humor her. In my mind, flowers were for the living. Mom couldn't care less what was going on above the rectangle of earth where she'd been buried. If people did have spirits, I saw no reason for them to hang around a place as dreary as a cemetery.

I gave the box a shake and a squeeze and finally decided to just open it. I grabbed up a pair of kitchen shears and sliced open the box. For the last three years Dad had sent me different editions of _Grimm's Fairy Tales,_ either forgetting that he already gifted me with it, or laboring under the misapprehension that I wanted to collect them. This at least did not look like a book.

It wasn't a book.

"What in the world?" I said softly to myself.

I carefully drew the tarnished, corroded object out of the box. Even age and misuse could not hide its true nature. It was a sword.

I hefted it in one hand. Since I was female, I didn't have that male urge to go hacking and slashing and pretending until I broke something or hurt myself. Still, there was something about this blade that demanded at least a _token_ swipe at something.

Unlike the thin fencing blades I had practiced with one semester in college, this was a thick, two-handed design. It was heavier than I expected and slipped in my hands as I tried an elegant swordsman-like pose.

It bit a chunk out of my table.

"Crap!" I swore, examining the splintered wood. "Look what you've done!" I scolded myself.

As I bent to pick pieces of table off the floor I finally noticed the note that had come with the sword.

_Morgan_ , it read. _I've found it!! She tried to stop me, but I found it!! I need you to keep this safe for me till I come. Don't trust Anyone!! I'll meet you and your mother on her birthday. Love, Dad._

I scratched my head. That was Dad. Excessive punctuation and cryptic references. I had no idea what it was he had found, unless he was referring to the sword, but why anyone would be trying to "stop" him, I had no idea.

I examined the sword again. To my untrained eye it appeared well-made if in need of a good cleaning. The handle was a simple design with a dark stone in the hilt. Could it be worth something? Had my father stolen it?

I read the note again. Since my mother was dead, I could assume that he meant for us to meet at her grave. And her birthday was today. Hence the flowers. I checked the note a third time. Dad had written the date in the upper right hand corner. It was three weeks ago. The sword had taken its own sweet time in getting to me.

I picked it up again and carefully swung it. I didn't know why Dad had sent it to me, and frankly, I really didn't care. It sounded like some plot to pique my interest and gain a face to face meeting. I had carefully avoided him the last two times he was in town and I didn't want to see him now. It would just end badly.

But then, it _was_ the anniversary of my mother's birth, and I _had_ promised Nana that I would leave flowers on her grave. If only the post office had taken just one more day ...

I gritted my teeth. It looked like I would be meeting him after all.

I took my time over dinner, finished my novel, did the dishes, and finally was ready to get it over with. There was a crack of thunder as I opened the front door and the skies let loose.

"Great," I muttered, kicking the door shut behind me. "Just great."

So, there I was, standing in the cemetery, hair being plastered to my scalp, water squishing between my toes in my flip-flops, waiting for my loser father.

I had put the sword back in its cardboard box, not wanting to explain to a passing police officer what I was doing with a weapon on the front seat of my car. The cardboard was turning to mush in the rain, the bouquet I had placed on the headstone was flattened, and still I waited.

"C'mon, Morgan!" I said to myself. "You knew he wouldn't be here! You knew he would be late. _Days_ late! He always is! Why would you think this time would be different?"

Some of the water streaming down my face was salty.

That was it. I wasn't waiting a second more. I tapped a squelching foot in the mud. Okay. Two seconds more and I was done.

I thought I heard someone call my name.

The cemetery was dark, the nearest lamppost a half block away. Clouds were obscuring what little moonlight there was, and if I hadn't been so focused on meeting my Dad, I would have thought the place creepy and hightailed it out of there.

It took me a couple of seconds, scanning the area around me, before I saw a dark shape approaching through the tombstones. It ducked and weaved and occasionally rolled behind the granite stones.

It had to be my Dad.

"Dad?" I called, exasperated. "What are you doing?"

He was ten yards away and I was just beginning to move towards him when a bright light split the air.

Like a door being cut open in a scenery backdrop, the rainy night was sliced open showing a sunlit wood in the quickly widening gap.

Dad stumbled to a stop, closer to the phenomenon than I was.

"Run, Morgan!" he screamed.

I blinked. This couldn't be happening!

"Morgan, _run_!" Dad yelled again.

A figure was stepping through the bright gap in the air. It appeared to be a woman, dressed in trailing black. Her eyes blazed like tiny suns; her fingers were reaching for my father.

I started to run, but not away. I had no idea what was happening, but I had to do _something_. Dad was frozen in terror, his hands thrown up in a warding gesture.

Time slowed. The mud sucked at my feet as I tried to dash towards the two figures who were now locked in an embrace. I saw the woman draw back her hand, fingers clawed, then, screaming, she drove her fist down into my father's chest. With a triumphant howl she held his beating heart aloft.

"No!" I screamed.

Dad's head turned towards me. His mouth moved feebly.

"Run," he said again, and then his eyes glazed as he sagged in the woman's grip.

I kept running full tilt at the woman. I'm not sure what I intended to do. It was too late to save my father, but I couldn't stop.

" _No!"_ I screamed again.

She was just turning towards me as I plowed into her, knocking my father from her grasp. I was trying to grab him when there was a whooshing sound, like air rushing into a vacuum, and the world around me spun and contracted.

# Chapter Two

I landed on my knees, totally disoriented. The sudden switch from night to day was confusing my brain, not to mention the location change. I was now in the midst of a wood. Tall trees seemed to brush the sky, looming high above me.

I was kneeling on a large flat rock, covered with a carpet of green moss. Two feet away the woman was just pulling herself to her feet, my father's bloody heart still gripped in her hand.

"Wha—" I gurgled, scooting frantically away.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted me.

"What have you done?" she spat at me.

I held up my hands in a placating gesture. With the change of scenery I had also experienced a change of heart. I no longer had any desire to confront this woman. In fact, I just wanted to go home and pretend that this entire evening had never happened.

"I'm sorry!" I babbled. "I didn't mean... I don't know..."

I looked around for the slit in the air. Maybe I could jump back through.

It was gone.

The woman lifted my father's heart to her mouth and took a long, slow bite. Blood dripped down her chin.

"Okay," I said, feeling faint. "I... uh... urk..."

I bumped into a thick tree, not realizing that I had been slowly backing away the entire time my mouth was blurting things out on its own.

She smiled at me and licked a drop of blood off the corner of her lips. Not breaking eye contact, she took another juicy bite.

"Umm..." I quivered, looking frantically around. "I'll just ... Yeah... I, umm.... I'll just..."

I turned to run and came face to face with the woman. She had instantly closed the distance between us.

"Agghh!" I yelped.

I was backing away again, across the rock, when I stumbled and fell on top of the cardboard box that had somehow made it through the slit with me.

I cried out, pulling it from underneath me.

Her eyes lit up with fiendish delight.

"At last!" she hissed.

"Umm," I cradled the box to my chest. "What...?"

"Give it to me," she commanded in round tones, her hand outstretched.

I blinked.

"Now!" she screamed.

I was getting upset. I had no clue what was going on, but I was pretty sure that I was either on the worse drug trip of my life, or this lady had actually murdered and _eaten_ my father right in front of me.

I stood up, still holding the the box. One end had been squished in my fall and the sword hilt was poking through.

"Give me the sword!" she snarled, slinking towards me with all the grace and menace of a jungle cat.

"No!" I said, surprising myself. "You _killed_ my dad!" Hot tears were choking my voice.

She laughed, not a pleasant sound at all.

I backed up some more. "Yeah, uh, how about I _don't_ give you the sword and you..." I reached down into the box and jerked the sword free, holding it pointed at her in what I hoped was a threatening manner, "... you stay back, you _freak_!"

She stopped and cocked her head to one side, studying me. She looked like a giant bird, studying a worm it was about to skewer with its beak.

"You don't want to do that," she said in a low voice.

I could barely hear her over the pounding of my heart. "No, I'm pretty sure this is _exactly_ what I want to do!"

"Give me the sword," she said again, undeterred, honey dripping from her lips.

"You killed him," I said again, not quite a question, but almost. My brain was shutting down with shock.

She lifted a stained finger to her lips and gave it a slow lick.

It was time to either vomit or get angry. I took a firm, two-handed grip on the sword and felt a surge of electricity surge up my arms.

"Time's up," she said, her eyes flashing.

"Stay away!" I snarled.

She took one last slow bite of the heart before throwing it contemptuously to the ground, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

I met the woman's sweet smile with a grimace.

"You are _sick_ ," I told her.

She took another step forward, laughing merrily as she held her hand out. One second there was nothing, the next she held a silvery spike between her fingers.

" _Mutatio in gladius_!" she cried, and the silver wand transformed into a wickedly sharp sword, longer and heavier looking than my own.

I gulped. The woman was holding her weapon like a practiced extension of her arm, and I had only a single semester of fencing to pull from. If you wanted me to get my feet in the correct position and shuffle backwards and forwards a couple of times I was your girl, anything beyond that...

Lucky for me, it was going to be a short fight. I saw her slash the blade towards my head and knew that there was no way I was blocking that blow. I was so dead.

That didn't mean I wasn't going to try. I was a Shipton, and we didn't go down without a fight. Halfway into my attempted block I felt like my arms were being jerked out of their sockets. The sword in my hand leaped up, faster than I could have moved, and met the woman's blade in a bone jarring crash.

Quick as a snake she brought her sword around again to take a bite out of my side, and once more I was whirled about like a puppet, deflecting her blade at the last second. Then my sword flashed out towards her legs in what turned out to be a feint. As she moved to block, my arms were violently pulled in the opposite direction, nipping in with deadly speed to cut a deep gash into her arm.

We both stumbled back, breathing hard. I stared at her in shock. Ten seconds ago I had been prepared to die. Now I was unscathed, and had scored a serious point in her skin.

The woman's beautiful face twisted into a hideous mask. With a snarl of rage she sprang forward, her blade moving faster than I could follow. Each time she swung my own blade rose to meet her and the resulting crash set my teeth vibrating in my skull. All I could do was hold on for dear life and hope that whatever magic was at work here would be the better swordsman.

Unfortunately for me, a magic sword will only get you so far. Without the footwork to go with it, I was severely handicapped. I tried to spin and dance with the sword's movements, but the best I could do was stumbling and tripping over the uneven ground.

The woman's movements were sure and controlled and each confrontation brought her millimeters from drawing blood. I was getting tired and losing my grip on the hilt when I slid on the moss and fell heavily onto my tailbone.

Her eyes lit up with glee and she moved forward to offer the _coup de grace_. I had fallen half on my own blade and although it struggled to free itself from under my leg, it would be too late.

Once again I felt the time slow down. I saw the woman's lips curving slowly upward in a pleased smile. I saw the fluttering edges of her torn sleeve, soaked in blood. I saw the glint of sunlight running like water along her blade as it dove for my heart. And I saw her dainty shoe step forward onto what remained of my father's heart.

Her foot went flying up in the air, bringing her head down with a crack onto the rock.

I froze, waiting for her to leap to her feet and attack. She didn't move.

I finally managed to free my sword and pulled myself awkwardly to my feet. The sword had saved my life. I wasn't sure if I wanted to thank it, or drop it and run screaming.

It twitched in my hand and I gripped it tighter in reflex. Once again, it moved like a viper strike, dragging my body with it. It slashed down across the woman's neck, severing her head and biting deep into the rock beneath.

I screamed and let go. I had just _murdered_ someone!

Biting the side of my hand I forced myself to take a closer look. If I let myself collapse into hysteria I might never regain my sanity.

The sword had cut cleanly through muscle, bone, and tendon, leaving smooth edges behind. It stuck there in the ground between head and body, still quivering slightly. There was surprisingly little blood, and I had a sudden irrational urge to attempt to glue the head back on.

That was, until her eyes flew open and stared at me. They were milky white, no iris, with pinpoint black pupils.

I screamed again in terror and jumped back, my hands reflexively grabbing the hilt of the sword and pulling it free of the rock.

The woman's mouth moved soundlessly, her vocal folds separated from her lungs. Her fingers started to twitch, hands moving across the rock until they patted, exploring the edges of her gashed throat.

My eyes were bulging in my head. I still didn't know if I should run, or just continue screaming, or maybe both. The sword trembled in my hands again.

This time I agreed with it. Granted, I hadn't known this lady very long, but she seemed like the sort of person who would hold a grudge. The sort of person who might be angry with whoever had dared to cut off her head. And, from the looks of things, she _wasn't_ dead, and if you're not dead, there's always the chance that you're alive.

The sword gave another little shake.

"Okay," I said, drawing in a long breath. "I think you're right."

The sword gave another impatient bounce. It wanted me to get on with things.

I made a face. "It's just that," I explained to it, "I've never really killed someone before." I thought about it a bit. "I've never killed _anything_ before!" I realized. "Well, I've killed roaches, and spiders, and I'm probably responsible for the deaths of millions of love bugs, but I've never killed something... you know, _bigger_."

I got a feeling of annoyance. The woman's fingers were weakly pulling her detached head closer to her body.

"I could just, like, _kick_ her head farther away?" I suggested.

The sword radiated displeasure.

I made another face. I didn't want to touch her head with anything, even the toe of my shoe.

"What if I got a stick?" I asked.

The hilt started to heat up in my hand. I got the impression that I was trying its patience.

I blew out a gust of air. "Okay." I scratched my nose. "I can do this. It's not murder. It's... self-defense." I cocked my head to one side, studying the severed neck. If I was going to do something, I needed to do it quickly. There was a sickly orange glow slowly knitting the edges together.

"Oh, crap," I swore, lifting the blade over my head. "I am so going to have nightmares about this!"

I screamed as I brought the point of the sword down with all my strength, piercing her heart. There was a bright flash of light, a painfully loud noise, and I was blown across the rock's surface to slam into one of the tree trunks.

***

My ears were ringing, sparkling flecks obscured my vision, and I felt like I had cracked a rib.

"Great idea, Morgan," I said sarcastically. "Just fabulous."

As my vision cleared, I peered around the clearing. The woman's body was gone.

The sword was laying inches from my hand, and I felt a twinge of unease that immediately disappeared as soon as my fingers touched it. It seemed smug.

"I hope you're happy," I told it, realizing that I was one step away from the loony bin. Talking to inanimate objects was generally frowned upon.

I limped back to where the woman's body had been. There was nothing left.

"I hope that's a good thing," I muttered, twisting to see if I had huge bruises on my back.

Something cold moved against my skin and I screamed again, flailing at my neck in panic.

My fingers brushed something smooth and hard and for a split second I was sure I was being strangled by a snake. Then commonsense took over and I gingerly felt around and quickly realized that I was now wearing a necklace. A torque. It was too tight for me to see, but it felt smooth, about two inches thick. It completely circled my neck without break or latch.

"What in the world?" I whispered.

I pulled. I twisted. I tugged. The necklace was not coming off. I even contemplated sticking the sword blade between the metal and my neck and gently cutting it off, but rejected the idea as stupid.

Minutes later I was sweating, frustrated, and emotionally exhausted. I collapsed to the ground and took in my surroundings.

I was in the midst of a huge forest. As far as the eye could see were trees, and more trees, and even more trees. I had a sword with an attitude, un-removable new neck gear, and no idea where I was and how I had gotten here, much less how to get home.

To top things off, I had killed someone, although there was no body, and I had seen my father murdered. Perhaps someone had slipped me something and this was all a drug induced hallucination.

I looked around. It was cold, the sun was setting, and it began to drizzle. I shivered.

Somehow, I didn't think I was imagining all of this.

# Chapter Three

I spent a very uncomfortable night. Barring one or two camping trips when I was kid, this was the first time I'd ever spent the night outside. I had no tent or sleeping bag, no friendly fire with hotdogs and s'mores. I was cold, wet, and pretty sure that every rock and pebble in the vicinity was trying to burrow its way into my spine.

I didn't so much sleep as close my eyes for brief periods of time. Every hoot, or cry, or rustle in the darkness set my heart leaping into my mouth.

"Quit being such a scaredy-cat, Morgan," I told myself. "It's the woods, not a horror movie. There are no slavering, pumpkin-headed monsters out there thirsting for your blood."

I gave a nervous glance behind me.

"I really wish you hadn't said that, Morgan," I hissed. "Now I'm worried about monsters!"

Finally, I ran out of things to say to myself and I must have drifted off, because the sunlight was streaming through the leaves and branches when I awoke. I had a crick in my neck, a pain in my back, and my left leg was coming painfully back to life with stabbing pins and needles.

It disturbed me that during the night I had been snuggling with the sword. I felt like it was taking liberties with me when we hadn't been properly introduced.

Worse than all the aches and twinges was my empty stomach. It felt like a deflated balloon stuck against my spine and sending constant reminders to my brain about how empty it was.

"So," I said, with determination. "I need to find my way out of here."

I turned in a slow circle, studying the woods around me. They were depressingly similar in all directions.

"Under normal circumstances," I told the sword, since I was feeling a bit silly talking to myself all the time and I had to talk to _someone_ , "you wait for someone to find you." I made a face. "But that implies that the _someone_ is first looking for you, and second, able to come the way you came."

I looked at the spot in the clearing where I imagined the slit in the air had been. I waved a hand around in front of me, trying to see if the air felt any different.

It didn't.

The air looked the same. The trees looked the same. The sky even looked the same. I was well and truly lost.

I kicked a pebble across the rock and finally noticed the blood trail leading off into the bushes. Something had come in the dark and dragged off my father's heart.

I had held it together pretty well until then. The thought of something _eating_ part of my dad was too much. He hadn't been the greatest, and I wasn't sure if I even really loved him, but he was _my_ dad. The only one I had.

I sat on the still cool rock and cried for my father's death. Then I went on and cried for his life, for all the missed birthdays, and unspoken words, for all the times that I had wanted him to be there and he hadn't been, and even worse, all the times that I _should_ have wanted him there, but hadn't even cared.

It was a good long cry. I felt better at the end, if a trifle dehydrated and still ravenously hungry. I was also dirty and my teeth felt furry.

"I need to pull it together," I told the sword. I felt like it was listening.

"Do you know that crazy people talk to things?" I asked it.

It didn't answer.

"I've been in these woods for less than twenty-four hours and I'm already stark raving mad," I mused. I wondered how long Tom Hanks had been on the island before he made friends with a volleyball.

I decided to put a positive spin on it. I was obviously just better at making friends.

"Okay, Wilson," I told the sword. "Which way should we go?"

I felt a tingle under my fingers but no definite sign.

I tried pulling the sword out and holding it in front of me, eyes closed, à la Inigo Montoya. Still nothing.

"Hmm," I said, sheathing the blade. "That was remarkably unhelpful." I looked around. "That way!" I pointed. "No," I shook my head, "you're supposed to go downhill, because... because... water flows downhill and... umm... yeah, just because. Okay."

I looked around some more. I seemed to be in the middle of a depression in the earth. _Everywhere_ was uphill.

"That way," I said firmly, deciding that any direction was better than standing for another second in this stupid clearing.

If I had been wearing hiking boots, and carrying a water bottle, and maybe a few snacks, and had known where I was and where I was going, and had not just spent a sleepless and uncomfortable night on the prickly ground, I might have enjoyed my walk.

There was a lot of scenery. More types of trees than I could name, which might not have been that impressive, since I could only reliably recognize pine trees, palm trees, and oak trees. Here it seemed that every single tree was a different variety than the one next to it, and they all shot up, smooth-trunked, to the sky, filtering the sunlight into narrow beams of light where dust danced and sparkled.

Little streams gurgled over rocky beds, singing and muttering to themselves until they poured out into shallow pools. The water was shockingly cold and surprisingly clean tasting. I was probably ingesting all sorts of horrible amoebas that would eat through my stomach lining, but at least I wouldn't get dehydrated.

Birds called loudly overhead and flitted through the upper branches and once I came around a particularly wide tree and found a mother deer and her fawn frozen in a tiny grassy clearing. They bounded away as soon as I moved and I was left alone again.

My only consolation was that I did indeed seem to be traveling downhill. I couldn't remember _why_ that was so important, but I was positive that downhill was the right way to go. Now I could only hope that I would reach something or somewhere before I starved to death.

Yes, I realize that there are many less fortunate people in the world who go without three meals a day. My stomach was just not used to being one of them. I might be loosely using the term "starving," but I was cramping, lightheaded, and weak. Not the best combination for hiking through unfamiliar terrain.

By midmorning I was so exhausted that I trudged, head down, ignoring all the marvelous nature about me. I longed for a nice paved street with carefully manicured trees, maybe even a flower box or two and definitely a Starbucks or, even better, a McDonald's.

So intent was I upon placing one foot after the next that I missed the warning signs of the disappearing forest floor. Had I been looking up, I might have noticed that I was approaching a steep drop off, sprinkled with large boulders and scrawny trees.

I had ample time to admire the boulders, rocks, and scratchy tree branches as I rolled down the hill, hitting every single one.

Sprawled at the bottom of the incline, my feet higher than my throbbing head, I decided that enough was enough. I was done tramping through the woods. I was done being hungry. I would just lie here and die and be done with this whole wretched experience.

I don't know how long I would have lain there if I hadn't been sharing the spot with a colony of ants. After I finished screaming, flailing around, and frantically brushing at myself, my nose finally managed to get a message through to my tired brain.

I sniffed.

"Do you smell that, Wilson?" I asked the sword. It had made it through the unconventional trip down the hill unscathed, which was more that I could say for my clothing or my skin.

I sniffed again and my stomach rumbled. It was meat cooking! Someone was having a barbeque!

Visions of cookie-cutter homes in a Stepford community filled my mind with joy. I could just see the nicely dressed preppies, turning some burgers on the grill while drinking iced tea laced with mint. Heaven!

I picked up the pace, getting a second wind along with the hope of rescue. I could call for someone to pick me up and in no time I would be back at my apartment, relaxing in the tub, and enjoying a cup of coffee.

For the first time I felt guilty about leaving Milton for the night. It wasn't like he cared about me as a person, but he did care about me as the provider of food. I'd open him a big can of cat food, and then I would call Nana and tell her everything. She'd know what to do. Maybe she'd even tell me to forget everything. There was no body, no witnesses. I could hardly expect the police to believe that I had seen my father die and then had killed his murderer. I should just put this whole thing behind me and move on with my life.

I burst through the edge of the forest and found myself standing on the edge of a cleared field. I froze in shock, taking in the scene, all hope of home fleeing in light of reality.

A town lay across the field. Not a middleclass gated community, but a stone and thatch village with smoke pouring from every chimney. The smell of cooking meat was still there, coupled with the smell of poor sanitation and livestock.

"It's got to be one of those reenactment places," I murmured, clinging to the last bit of hope that was struggling to escape.

The field to my right was spotted with grazing sheep and goats, while to my left some sort of tall plant was growing. I preferred my vegetables washed, pre-cut, and sealed in a plastic bag, so I couldn't really recognize the crop.

Nor did I recognize the people working the field who had all stopped their various tasks and were staring at me with much the same horror that I felt.

"Hi!" I tried a little finger wave at the closest person, who happened to be a little boy.

His face turned white as he dropped the basket he had been filling and ran for the town.

"Okay," I said, puzzled. "Guess I look worse than I feel."

Since no one else moved, I picked my way carefully through the field towards the nearest man.

"Hey!" I called, when I was a few yards away, "Sorry to burst in on you like this, but I'm really lost!" I laughed a little to show how sane and safe I was.

The man trembled, his fingers white knuckled on the handle of his scythe.

I knew I was disheveled but I hardly thought my appearance warranted this reaction.

"I don't want to mess with the authenticity here," I explained, "but I'd really like to call home."

One of the women came towards us, cowering beside the man, her eyes just as wide with fear as his. She was young, hardly more than a teenager, but her eyes looked old.

I held out my hands in peace. "Hello?" I said. "I've just spent the night in the woods, and I know I look a fright, and I know you're not supposed to break character or whatever, but this is really an emergency. I need help."

The woman swallowed. "H-h-how can we s-s-serve you, my lady?" she stuttered.

Yeesh! These people were dedicated re-enactors! Couldn't they see that I really wasn't up for some role-playing?

"I need a phone," I said shortly.

The man and women looked desperately at each other. Across the field the remaining farmers were gathering near the road leading into the town. They didn't look happy.

"I beg your pardon?" the man said.

"A phone!" I said. "A cell phone! Or even a land line! I'm not picky! I just need to make a call!"

The man's eyes darted to my neckline and then down to my hands, where I was carrying Wilson.

I thought I understood. These people were pretending to be old-timey villagers and were a little scared by my wild appearance and weaponry.

"I'm not crazy," I reassured them. "This isn't even really my sword. I'm just... holding it for someone. All I want is to make a phone call and then I'll be out of your hair."

The man slowly knelt to the ground, tugging the woman along with him. "A thousand pardons, my lady," he whispered. "Have mercy on us!"

I was getting annoyed. I mean, really! Play acting and staying in character is great and all, but it was time to snap out of it!

"Come on!" I barked. "Stop with the act and point me in the direction of the nearest phone! I know somebody here has to have one!"

They trembled at my voice. "Take whatever you like, lady," the woman cried. "Please!"

I stamped my foot. "You guys are really starting to get on my nerves," I frowned. "I just want to make a phone call!"

"We do not understand," the man said, pressing his forehead into the dirt. "Do as you like!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. My stomach let out a loud rumble.

The woman's head shot up. "Is my lady hungry?" she asked hopefully.

"Morgan," I said wearily. "My name is Morgan. Morgan Shi—"

The man and woman both covered their ears and yelled loudly. I jumped back in surprise.

They huddled on the ground, shaking visibly.

"Umm, hello?" I asked.

The young woman looked up at last, tears streaking down her dirty face. She was panting heavily.

"What's wrong?" I asked, worried.

"Please, do not tell us your name!" she pleaded.

"Umm." I was totally puzzled. "Okay?"

"Food!" she yelped. "We offer you food!"

I _was_ hungry. Maybe if I went along with their little charade, they would secretly point out the phone to me.

"Fine," I said. "Food would be great."

She looked relieved. "Please, follow us," she said, standing shakily to her feet.

The man also stood. He kept his eyes planted on the ground.

They waited for me to move while I waited for them. Finally the woman bobbed a couple of times in a nervous curtsey and then took off across the field for the town entrance. She kept looking over her shoulder, checking to see how close I was.

"After you," I said to the man, who blanched with fear and slowly backed away.

"Or not," I muttered, when he broke and ran for the edge of the field away from the town.

The woman was standing a hundred yards away, nervously twisting her apron in her hands. She waited until I got within twenty feet before dashing off again to repeat the whole waiting process again.

"I'm not going to bite you," I joked, when I once more came close.

She bit her lip hard and nodded frantically.

The closer we got to the town, the farther my spirits sank. Try as I might to convince myself that this was a reenactment village, the fact were starting to clash with my presupposition. If this was a tourist attraction, it was the most detailed and accurate I had ever seen.

And there were no roads. Unless there was a huge, paved parking lot, out of sight on the opposite side of town, there was only a narrow dirt track leading away into the forest. Show me a tourist town that doesn't have an easy access point for tourists.

Not to mention the lack of signs showing the location of "Ye Olde Shoppe" and the like. Or discrete bathroom icons.

Speaking of which, I really needed to go.

"Hey," I called after my reluctant guide.

We were just entering the town. All the people who had been watching from a distance had melted away, although I could see dark figures lurking behind hay carts, and around the stone corners of the buildings, and peering from behind rough wooden shutters.

The main street hardly justified the name. It was more mud than anything else, spotted with animal droppings that were swarming with flies.

The woman froze in terror. Her desire to please warring with her urge to run.

I still couldn't figure out why she was so scared. _She_ was the odd looking one! Her skirt looked like homespun wool, which must have been smotheringly hot, and the buttons on the bodice were pegs of wood. She wore scratchy looking stockings on her legs, and her shoes were definitely not from Payless.

I might be a dirty mess, but at least I was dressed comfortably in modern clothing. Sure, I was carrying a sheathed sword in my hand, but some of the people had been wielding scythes.

Maybe if I could just get her to tell me where I was I could figure out what was going on.

"Hey!" I called again gently, trying to look as harmless as possible. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

She fidgeted in place, eyes wide, as she nodded.

I held out my empty hand in a gesture of peace. I decided to go with the most pressing need. "I have to go to the bathroom," I whispered.

She blinked. "Where does my lady wish to go?" she asked.

"The bathroom," I said louder. "I have to go. I've been holding it all night."

"Holding it?" she echoed, puzzled. "Would my lady like to put something down?"

I gave her a glare. "I need to use the restroom." I thought she was mocking me.

Her face cleared, "By all means, I am taking my lady somewhere to rest."

I put my hand on my hip. "No. I need to pee." I tried to think of an old-fashioned word. "I need to use the chamber pot," I said, "The water closet? The privy?"

"Ah," the woman nodded.

She turned down a side street, even smaller and muddier, and then pushed open a wooden door. She waited for me to enter first.

The interior was dim, lit only by a single candle and fireplace in the corner. It was one room, with a packed dirt floor, a rough hewn table with a bench, and one corner of the room curtained off with a patched cloth.

The woman inched her way around me and then pointed at the curtain.

I raised my eyebrows, but obediently stuck my head around to see what was behind.

It was a small space, the only object a large wooden bucket.

I pulled my head out. "What is that?" I asked, having a horrible suspicion.

"The chamber pot, my lady," she said, looking scared. "I know it is mean, but it is the best we have."

I gave her a look. "You want me to go in a bucket?"

She glanced around nervously for help. "Please do not strike me dead!" she pleaded.

I sighed. "Look," I said in a low conspiratorial tone. "Just cut the act, ok? I promise not to tell anyone. I'll even use that bucket if you've really got nothing better. But you've got to let me make a phone call. I know somebody here has a phone. What are you guys? Some sort of religious cult that doesn't believe in technology? I'm okay with that. I just want to go home."

The woman flung herself at my feet, sobbing. Not the response I was hoping for.

# Chapter Four

I could hold my bladder no longer. I left the woman cowering on the floor and quickly relieved myself on the bucket. Feeling much better I stepped back around the curtain, looking around for a sink to wash my hands.

There wasn't one.

The woman was still sobbing, her volume increasing. When I knelt to gently touch her shoulder she screamed and backed frantically away to the wall where she sat huddled, hugging her knees to her chest and keening.

I made a face. After everything I had been through, _I_ should be the one crying on the floor. I wanted to slap her up the side of the head, tell her to bring me that phone, and get out of here as quickly as I could. I didn't know where I was, but I was pretty sure I didn't like it.

I decided to take a somewhat more diplomatic approach.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, I placed the sword over my lap and tried to smile understandingly.

"Hey," I said softly.

The woman looked up from underneath dirty locks. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said gently.

Her sobs lessened a bit. "Your food will be here soon, my lady," she said between harsh breaths.

"That's okay," I said, although I was starving. "Why are you so scared of me?"

She shuddered and looked down.

"I'm not scary," I crooned, like talking to a wounded animal. "I'm just lost and I've had a horrible day and I want to go home."

She met my eyes again. "Your castle is only a half day journey from here," she whispered.

"My castle?"

There was the sound of fearful murmuring at the door and a young man burst through as if propelled from behind. He hurriedly set a wooden platter on the table, loaded with what looked to be a whole chicken, a dark loaf of bread, some runny cheese, and an onion. Then he carefully backed out, bowing the whole time.

My stomach let out another loud rumble and I quickly sat down on the bench. The woman stayed huddled on the floor.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked her, breaking off a chuck of bread and stuffing it in my mouth.

She gasped. "Are you... asking me to... eat with you?"

I closed my eyes. Either she was the best actress the world has ever seen... or I was missing a huge piece of the picture.

"This isn't a reenactment village, is it?" I asked her quietly.

She just stared at me from the floor.

"You don't know what a cell phone is, do you?"

She shook her head.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "Can you answer a question then?"

She bit her lip, but nodded nervously.

"What's your name?" I decided to start with.

"Agnes, my lady," she whispered.

"Nice to meet you, Agnes," I said politely.

She ducked her head down again.

I had to ask the next question, but I really didn't want to know the answer. "Where am I?" I asked.

Agnes didn't understand. "My lady?"

"Are we in ... the United States?" I clung to my last shred of hope.

"This is the westernmost border of the kingdom of Truitonne," she said slowly, like I was testing her. "We are not united with anyone."

My heart thudded heavily in my chest.

"Are you from... another kingdom?" she asked carefully, slowly standing up.

It was my turn to feel terror. I gazed at her through tear-filled eyes. "I've never heard of Truitonne."

"But, how..." her eyes dropped to my neckline. "... how?"

My practical brain was refusing to admit that something strange and unexplainable had happened to me. "Are we in Europe?" I asked.

A look of pity was replacing the fear in Agnes' face. "This is the kingdom of our good princess Cinderella," she explained, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Perhaps you have heard of her?"

I searched her face for any sign of humor. She was serious.

"Cinderella?" I gaped.

She smiled, "Yes! You have heard of her!"

I laughed bitterly. "You could say that. Are you for real?" She _had_ to be pulling my leg.

Agnes patted herself timidly. "I believe I am real," she said.

I stood up and began to pace, the food forgotten on the table. "So, you're telling me that last night I was somehow whisked away to a mysterious land that is ruled by a cartoon princess?"

Agnes just watched me quietly.

"And you've never heard of a cell phone?" I asked her again. "How about a car? An airplane?"

She shook her head each time.

I sank back on the bench, my legs feeling wobbly. "I've got to get home," I said forlornly.

"To your castle?" Agnes asked.

"I don't _have_ a castle," I told her bitterly.

"But you defeated Bonificient!" she exclaimed.

"Who?"

"Bonificient," she said, pointing to my neck. "Godmother Bonificient."

My fingers traced the cold metal encircling my neck.

"Tall lady, scary eyes, pulls wands out of the air, and likes to eat people's hearts?" I asked.

Agnes nodded. "Her castle is now yours," she explained.

"Why?"

Agnes was puzzled. "You defeated her," she said carefully. "Her powers and possessions now belong to you." She started to say something, stopped herself, and then blurted it out. "Surely you know this, lady! Only a powerful godmother could have defeated Bonificient! Are things so different in your kingdom?"

"I don't _have_ a kingdom!" I snapped at her, making her flinch away. "I'm not anybody's godmother, and I didn't _defeat_ anybody! I just got lucky. Really, really lucky. And," the tears began to fall down my cheeks, "she killed my father!"

I lay my head on the rough table and sobbed.

***

Getting answers out of Agnes was like pulling teeth. It wasn't that she didn't want to be helpful, it was just that we had no common frame of reference. She assumed that I knew what was going on when I didn't even know enough to know what questions I should be asking.

The other townspeople were more than happy to leave me to Agnes. She convinced them that I wasn't going to boil the blood in their veins, or turn anyone into a frog, but they weren't taking any chances.

All I really knew was that I was far from home, far from modern technology, and I had no clue about where to go or what to do next.

Several hours into a frustrating session where I tried to get Agnes to show me a map and she insisted that maps were useless, you only had to follow the path to the next town, there was a commotion outside.

I was tired of being cooped up in the smoky room and decided that it was time to explore the town a bit. With Agnes trotting beside me, I headed for the source of the loud voices and barking dogs.

Most of the town was gathered in the center square surrounding three tattered and filthy men who were leaning wearily on their staves. A woman was clinging to a fourth man and wailing loudly.

As I approached the square grew silent and all eyes turned to stare. The crying woman alone continued to weep, her face hidden, until someone elbowed her and she finally looked around.

She saw me and let out a muffled scream, running towards me with hands outstretched. It took three men to subdue her and they dragged her off, shrieking and yelling.

"Uh, Agnes," I said out of the corner of my mouth. "What's going on?"

The remaining people in the square just stood there, not making a sound. I backed up around the corner of a building, dragging Agnes with me.

"What was that all about?" I demanded.

She looked sad. "Isolde lost her daughter today. She is upset."

I peeked around the corner. People were just starting to break off into small groups, talking quietly.

"So why did she run at me?" I asked.

Agnes shrugged. "She is upset. You are the godmother."

"I'm not the godmother," I said fiercely. "Why can't you understand that?"

Agnes cringed. "Pardon me, my lady."

I rolled my eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not going to hurt you?"

She nodded 'yes' with her head, but her eyes were saying, 'yeah, right.'

"Lady Godmother!" a voice called from behind me.

I turned to see an elderly, rotund man, scrapping and bowing. I decided it wasn't worth arguing the point at the moment.

"Yes?" I asked.

"We thank you for gracing us with your presence!" he said, with yet another low bow. "Our humble village is not worthy. Allow us to provide you with a horse, poor though it may be, and not deserving of your radiance, to transport you back to your domain, and please, think kindly of us when next our paths may cross."

I ran that through my head a couple of times before I caught the gist.

"You want me to leave," I said flatly.

Another young man was just arriving, leading an emaciated pony behind him. He blanched at the tension in the air, thrust the reins at the older man and jetted off.

The man looked flustered. "Surely you desire to return to the comforts of your home?"

"I _do_ want to go home!" I yelled. "But it's not here! And I'm not anybody's godmother!"

The man threw himself down onto the muddy street. "A thousand pardons, my lady!" he wailed. "Forgive whatever offense has so enraged you! We are but humble peasants and know not how to speak with one so great and powerful as yourself. Forgive us!"

The horse chose that moment to let loose a torrent of urine, forcing the man to choose between his fear of me and his desire not to get soaked. He sprang to his feet and gave one last final bow.

"If there is any other way we can serve you... please..." he dashed off out of sight.

I turned to Agnes. "What should I do?" I asked.

She gingerly patted my arm. "Perhaps it would be best to do as the mayor suggests," she offered.

"Which is what?" I asked bitterly. "Go be someone else's problem somewhere else?"

She gave a wry smile. "I think you are not as cruel as our last godmother, but nevertheless, you _are_ a godmother, and people _will_ fear you."

"I'm not a godmother," I said wearily.

"Perhaps the answers you seek are at your castle," she suggested.

I perked up. "Answers?"

"Godmother Bonificient was known for her love of books," Agnes said. "And perhaps," she blushed and ducked her head again, "perhaps she might have clothing suitable for your rank," she finished shyly.

"My clothes?" I looked down at the mud caked hem of my jeans and my stained t-shirt. A change of clothes would be nice.

It seemed I had little choice in the matter. There was nothing here that could show me how to get home, but, obviously, the godmother had known, and perhaps she'd written it down somewhere.

I patted the horse's nose. "What do you say, old boy?" I asked him. "Are you ready to go for a ride?"

# Chapter Five

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but riding alone, along a narrow forest trail, with dark trees on either side and ominous sounds of animals moving unseen through the brush, was not it. Agnes had treated me so well that I guess I'd assumed she would show me the way to the castle. Instead, I was given a bag of food, an animal skin bag of water, and the helpful directions, "Ride that way until you see the castle."

Well, I was riding, and had been riding for hours, and the only thing I had seen was a family of pheasants run across the path, making my horse shy and prance. Luckily, the saddle was designed with a high pommel and cantle, holding the rider firmly in place on the deep seat between. Probably a good thing if someone was trying to knock you off with a lance.

I was still hoping that I would break through the woods and come across a nice paved highway with traffic roaring by. Then a camera crew could jump out and we'd all laugh at how gullible I'd been. But with every hour that passed, I was forced to face reality.

I wasn't in the United States. I couldn't imagine a place so remote that the people had never heard of technology, or even running water. They spoke English, which ruled out Asia, or South America, or Africa, or pretty much anywhere else.

I was getting frustrated. Even assuming that I had somehow been relocated to New Zealand, I would have noticed the huge missing chunk of time necessary for travel! I could have sworn that one second I was standing in the cemetery and the next I was here.

In addition, I had a sword that fought by itself and a necklace that had attached itself around my neck. _Something_ was going on, and it couldn't be explained by rational thinking. Perhaps it was time for some _ir_ rational thinking.

"If Dad were here, he'd say that we were in an alternate realm," I said aloud. I teared up a bit and said loudly, "Which is crazy! There's no such thing!"

My horse snorted and tossed his head.

"Well," I frowned. "Wherever this is, I _got_ here, so I can get back."

I looked around, I was still in the woods, but the trees did seem to be thinning up ahead. I nudged my horse into a trot. We broke through onto rolling fields of bright yellow flowers. A river flowed through the bottom of the valley, arched by a wide stone bridge, and on the other side the path led straight up to the tall wooden gates of a castle.

It wasn't what I was expecting. Sure, it had a moat, it had a tall wall, it had towers, and turrets, everything that a good castle needs. But it had something that most castle builders would think superfluous.

It was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. It looked like it was formed out of delicately carved ice. It rose, soaring to the clouds like a swan caught in midflight. The light sparkled and flashed and played along the walls and blazed like diamonds on the tips of the flagpoles.

I pulled up and sat there for a moment, taking in the scene. How could someone so evil live in such a perfect place?

"Home sweet home?" I asked the sword, which I had balanced over my thighs. It didn't even twitch.

"Well," I said aloud. "We were looking for a castle, and we found one. I'm betting we're in the right place."

Back at the village it had seemed such a rational idea. Find the castle, search for a library, find the book that said, "To send Morgan home you must do the following..." and then I'd be home in time for supper.

Now, I suddenly wondered what _else_ might be living in that castle. Just because Bonificient was dead didn't mean that she had lived alone, or that she didn't have friends who might not appreciate the fact that I had acted in self-defense.

"Well," I said aloud again, "we're not getting any younger here. Let's go knock on the... umm... what do you knock on?"

My horse was immune to the grandeur of the scene and plodded steadily down the track towards the river, his head hanging low and swinging sleepily with each step. He shied a bit when his hoofs rang out on the stone bridge, but a nudge from me sent him forward.

We pulled up before the drawbridge. The great gates of the castle stood open on the other side. They were lacy things, looking more like frozen cobwebs than defenses to keep out the enemy.

"Maybe she wasn't worried about any enemies," I shuddered.

I dismounted there and led my horse through the entrance into the courtyard beyond. It was polished granite, not a speck of dust in sight, and extremely slippery. A single gravel path led off to the right towards what appeared to be stables.

I patted my horse's neck. "Maybe there'll be some hay and oats."

My voice bounced off all the hard surfaces and echoed back to me.

"Hello?" I called loudly. "Anybody home?"

"Home... home... home..." came the echo.

On the opposite side of the courtyard, a double staircase swept up to the massive front doors of the castle. Sooner or later I would have to climb those steps and open the door.

I wanted to put off that moment as long as possible.

Leading the horse to the stables, I found empty stalls with fresh bedding and hay and buckets filled with clean water.Moving slowly, I removed the saddle and bridle from the horse and looked around for some brushes. They were hanging on the wall by the stall.

"A good rider always takes care of her mount first," I told the sword, which had once again started to quiver in impatience. I was pulling from all the equestrian knowledge I had gained during one summer camp over a decade ago. I remembered that horses needed to be brushed and watered and fed and secured for the night.

"Come on, Wilson," I chided it. "We've been riding this whole time. The horse here has been working hard."

I leaned the sword up against the wall so as to have both hands free to groom the horse. He seemed to appreciate it, but all too soon I was done, and he was happily munching away, standing with eyes half-closed.

I picked up the sword. "Where is everyone?" I asked it.

The courtyard was still empty of people. The setting sun was throwing long shadows across the granite like the grasping fingers of a huge hand.

I really didn't want to go into that castle. Who knew what was waiting behind the door? I'd probably have a heart attack just opening it. On the other hand though, I really didn't want to still be out here when it got dark.

"Here goes nothing," I murmured and headed up the steps.

The doors were, surprisingly, unlocked. Nor did they creak or let out any other ominous sounds as I pushed them open. The inside of the castle was just as empty as the outside.

"Maybe she used magic," I said to Wilson and then wished I hadn't. I felt like something was watching me from behind, but every time I turned there was nothing there.

"Nerves!" I laughed uneasily.

If getting home wasn't so important I would have turned tail and run. There were miles of passageways and huge rooms filled with towering furniture and columns and tons of places for something horrid to be lurking, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

"Library," I reminded myself. "I need to find the library."

The faint smell of manure drifted to my nose.

"And some clean clothes," I added. "And maybe a bathtub. If they have such a thing."

I decided to go up. A second double staircase led up to a railed landing with more hallways and doors leading off into the castle. If I were a... whatever she was, I figured I would not have my rooms on the ground floor. Ground floors were for kitchens and dining rooms and ball rooms.

After what seemed like ages (in which time I got bored with having a minor cardiac arrest at every small sound and settled for merely jumping and squealing), I found a set of doors that seemed more elaborately carved than the rest. On the other side was a large airy room with cushy sofas, thick carpet, and floor to ceiling windows leading out to a balcony.

Three rooms led off from the main section. In one, a luxurious four-poster bed beckoned, silently flanked by two white wardrobes. The second room was a welcome surprise. It had a bathtub the size of a Jacuzzi and, wonder of wonders, running water! I had learned in World History that the Romans had indoor plumbing, but it was a little strange to find it in this medieval environment. More proof that I was not in _my_ world anymore.

Next to the tub, in a small alcove, there was a "toilet:" a hole in a board seat over a deep pit. Better than a bucket any day.

The library would have to wait. I was not coming out of this room until I stopped smelling like a combination of horse and Porta-Potty.

I turned the tap above the tub. Hot water! I was in heaven.

Half an hour later, scrubbed pink, I held up my bedraggled clothing with two fingers and sniffed. Yup. There was no way I was putting those back on. So, either I found some of Bonificient's clothes to wear, or I went naked.

Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I went back to the two wardrobes I had seen in the bedroom. One was filled with swirly dresses, the sort you might wear to a formal event in the fourteen hundreds. Nice, but hardly what I would call practical.

The second was more of the same. Pearls, silks, lace, it was enough frou-frou to make you sick. I was just starting to contemplate taking a knife to the things and cobbling together my own outfit, when I found a set of clothing shoved to the back of the wardrobe.

The leather pants were a little snug. The billowy peasant blouse was covered with a form fitting leather vest, and at first glance I rejected the knee high boots. A second look at my filthy flip-flops convinced me to at least _try_ the boots, and, to my surprise, they were comfortable to walk in.

It took me several frustrating minutes to figure out the belt. It had straps that were clearly designed to hold a sheath, but I couldn't get it to hang right. When I finally got it correct I felt stupid. It didn't buckle around my waist as I had been trying to force it to do. It hung across my chest, and the sword hung on my back.

I felt really silly, practicing sticking Wilson in the sheath without slicing my back open. He must have been cooperating, because I caught on much faster than seemed likely.

I studied my reflection in the wardrobe mirror.

"Wow," I said at last. "I look... cool!"

I slid Wilson out and waved him around in a menacing way.

" _Really_ cool!" I breathed out. "I look like I'm ready to kick some serious butt!"

The last light of day was falling into darkness and torches around the room suddenly burst into flame.

I screamed and dropped the sword.

"Yeah," I said dryly. "Really cool."

I no longer wanted to admire my costume, I just wanted to go home. I had a bad feeling that I would be spending the night here, and the thought was not appealing.

Dressed in the clothing of the woman I had killed, I continued the search for the library.

The third room was the jackpot. The walls were entirely covered in bookshelves, with free standing rows filling almost every inch of flooring. In one corner there was a small desk with a lamp and a leather chair.

On the desk a bulky tome was opened.

I felt in my heart that this was it. This was the book I was looking for. This would send me home. All I had to do was say some spell, maybe wave a couple of plants around, and I would be back home and all this would be a crazy nightmare in the past.

I approached the desk carefully, my heart pounding in my chest. It seemed so personal. Like the owner had just left the room to get a cup of coffee and would be returning at any moment.

I almost felt a twinge of regret for killing a woman who so clearly loved her books. Then I remembered her face as she ate my father's heart.

"You got what you deserved," I hissed.

The lamp light was dim and it took me a second to figure out how to turn the flame inside brighter so that I could make out the writing on the page.

"No, no, no!" I moaned, flipping rapidly through the pages.

I grabbed another book at random on the shelves and flipped through it.

"No!" I cried, throwing it to the ground and grabbing another, and then another.

Every single one was written in a strange language, with symbols and markings that I had never seen before. I sank to the floor and began to cry. This was supposed to be my ticket home, and I couldn't even read it.

I don't know how long I would have sat there in my pity party if a sound hadn't shaken me out of my weeping.

There was a loud knocking reverberating throughout the castle.

I wiped some tears off my face and carefully stuck my head out into the dark hallway. The knocking sound came again. My heart was pounding in my ears as I tiptoed down the curved staircase to the ground floor. The knocking continued.

I didn't know what to do. Should I answer the door? Hide? Who would be knocking on an evil godmother's front door at night?

Wilson quivered on my back and I slid him quietly out and felt a surge of courage rush up my arms. He clearly wanted me to open the door.

"Easy for you to say," I whispered at him.

There was another hammering at the door.

I softly slid back the latch and prepared to swing the door open. With a mighty jerk I yanked the door back and raised the sword to strike whoever was waiting on the other side.

# Chapter Six

My blade tip dipped to touch the ground.

"Okay," I said calmly. "You were not quite what I was expecting."

I gave an apologetic grimace to the woman standing at the door. She wasn't a ten-foot tall, drooling monster and didn't seem to warrant my defensive greeting. "Sorry for the rude welcome."

She threw herself down at my feet and clung to my boots.

"Please, oh great one!" she cried. "You must save my daughter! I beg you!"

"Umm," I tried to back up without kicking her in the teeth on accident. "Just let... hey! Let go!" I tried to shake her off my boot while she gripped tighter.

"I _beg_ you!" she screamed. "Save my little girl!"

I finally managed to disengage and hopped back a few feet. "Are you...?" I peered at her in the dark. "Are you from the town?" I asked.

She looked vaguely familiar.

"There is no time to lose!" she cried out. "Please! I will do _anything!_ Take my life! I give it freely! Please, just save my daughter!"

She broke down and began to sob. I finally recognized her.

"You're the woman from the town square!" I realized. "You tried to attack me!"

She didn't even look up. She just lay, halfway through the door and cried like her heart was broken.

"Look," I said awkwardly, "I'm really sorry about your little girl."

She sniffed and hiccupped violent sobs.

I reached down and tapped her shoulder gently. "Do you want to come in?" I asked.

She slowly raised her head, her matted hair hanging lankly in front of her tear-stained face.

"Please, Godmother," she begged again. "Save my daughter."

I gingerly slid Wilson back into the sheath on my back and spread my hands wide. "I'm not a godmother," I explained slowly. "I'm sorry."

She sprang to her feet and quickly closed the distance between us, grabbing my vest in her hands. "You have to save her!" she cried in my face.

"I'm not a godmother!" I repeated louder. "I don't know what you want me to say! I can't bring people back from the dead!" And I really hoped that no one else could either, because I had never been a huge fan of zombies.

"She's not dead!" the woman insisted. "The N'jeri has her! Please! You are the only one who can save her!"

I scratched my nose. "I'm still not a godmother," I said, taking pity on her. "But if you want to come in, I'll hear you out."

She glanced nervously around, realized that she was now standing inside the castle and backed slowly over the threshold. "Forgive me, Godmother," she bowed. "I did not mean to enter uninvited."

I rolled my eyes. She had no problem almost throttling me, but she was worried about not having an invitation?

"Come on in," I said briskly. "Let's see if we can find the kitchen, and I'll make us..." What _did_ people drink around here? "... a cup of something," I finished lamely.

We found the kitchen on the ground floor, as I had surmised, and the woman quickly went to work, encouraging the banked fire back to life, finding a silver mug, and filling it with something from a clay jug.

She seemed to assume that I would do nothing, which was good, because, while I was fantastic with a microwave and could order take-out like a pro, my cooking prowess ended there.

There was a long wood table in the center of the room and I sat down at the end and waited. The woman brought me the mug and placed it reverently down in front of me.

"Aren't you going to have something?" I asked, sniffing the brew.

She looked shocked. "Drink... with _you_?" she asked.

I sighed. "I don't know why not," I said. "Please," I pointed to a low shelf that had several plainer clay mugs on it.

Almost as if she thought I was joking and would change my mind at any minute, she poured a second cup for herself and sat down half a table away from me.

I took a small sip. It tasted like a honey wine.

"Not bad," I said.

Her eyes huge, she slowly raised her mug to her lips and also took a sip.

"Now," I said, getting to business. "What is your name?"

"I-I-Isolde," she stammered.

"That's a very pretty name," I smiled at her, "And I wish I could help you, Isolde, but I'm new here. I don't know where I am, or what I'm doing here, and I just want to go home. I am _very_ sorry about your daughter—"

She cut me off in a spurt of bravery. "But you are the new godmother!" she protested. "You are the only one with the power to face the N'jeri."

I made a face. How many times was I going to have to explain this? "I'm not the godmother," I said sadly. "I don't have any power, and I don't know what a... nih-jerry is."

"N'jeri," Isolde corrected me and then covered her mouth in shock at her rudeness.

"N'jeri," I echoed carefully.

"My daughter has been taken," she said slowly. "There is little time to rescue her. You say that you are not the godmother and do not have her power, but then why do you wear her signet?" She pointed to the torque around my neck.

I fingered its smooth surface.

"If you do not wish to help me, then say so!" she said vehemently. "Do not lie to me!"

I tried to see things from her point of view. I probably _did_ look like I knew what I was doing. I had the necklace. I had the outfit. I even had a sword.

"What happened to your daughter?" I asked finally.

Her eyes lit up with hope. "She was playing in the woods," she said breathlessly. "When I called her for supper she did not return. The men followed her tracks up into the mountains where they crossed with those of the N'jeri. They were frightened," she spat, "and returned without my daughter. But you," her eyes blazed, " _you_ are not afraid! You can save her!"

Isolde stood up and threw herself flat on the ground. "I swear that my life's blood will be yours!" she cried out. "Only let me hold my daughter one last time!"

I shook my head. "I don't want your life's blood," I said wryly. "I'm not sure what I would do with it. Just get off the floor and let me think for a second."

I buried my head in my hands and tried to ignore the sword's quivering. Putting things in a modern perspective, I had a mother who had lost her child in the woods. Her friends had given up the search and now she was asking me, a stranger, to help. How could I refuse?

I looked up. Isolde was still on the floor, looking up at me with hope in her eyes.

"Fine," I said, "I'll help you look for your daughter."

"Ann," she said. "Her name is Ann."

I nodded. "I'll help you look for Ann."

Isolde sprang to her feet. "Now?" she asked hopefully.

I shook my head. I wasn't much of a woodsman and trying to find anyone in the dark forest seemed impossible.

"Tomorrow morning," I said. "As soon as it's light."

Isolde looked ready to argue for a moment but realized the sense of waiting. "Thank you!" she cried, trying to grab my boots again and kiss them.

"Cut that out!" I yelped, pulling my feet up onto the bench with me. "I didn't say that I would _find_ your daughter! I just said I would help you look for her!"

"You are too gracious, my lady!" she gushed. "The N'jeri will be unable to resist your power!"

She backed off a bit and I cautiously lowered my feet. "What is this N'jeri thing?"

Isolde grew afraid. "It is a being of great power," she whispered, glancing nervously into the shadows of the room.

"I got that," I said dryly. "But what _is_ it?"

"A magical creature, huge, with great teeth, and an insatiable appetite for the flesh of humans," she shuddered. "No arrow can pierce its hide. No sword is fast enough to ward off its claws. All who face it... die."

I gulped. Maybe I should have asked what I was going up against before I offered to help.

"Isolde," I said carefully, "what makes you think that... Ann, is still alive?"

"She must be," Isolde insisted. "I feel it, here, in my heart. I know that she still lives."

"Okay," I sighed.

I hoped that she would be strong enough to handle the truth. _If_ we were able to find any and _if_ we made it back alive ourselves.

***

The next morning I left the castle behind with reluctance. I had spent another hour in the library after Isolde had fallen asleep, studying the strange writing in the books. She had been just as clueless as I was. She told me that it didn't look like any writing she had seen before, but I was unwilling to admit defeat. I _would_ find a way home, even if it meant learning a new language. I only wished that there was a faster way to decipher the books.

Isolde was a handy person to have around. She packed two saddlebags of food for our hunt, and even saddled the horse for me. I tried to step in and help but was shooed away.

Now we were climbing the low hills that grew up into the jagged mountain range backdropping the town. We had circled the fields and houses in the early morning light, Isolde not wanting anyone to try and stop us.

This made me a bit concerned. The reasons the townspeople had for stopping us seemed pretty valid to me. They didn't want us to get eaten. I _also_ didn't want us to get eaten. I was really, really hoping that we would either quickly find Ann or at the least, find proof that there was no longer a reason to be looking for her. It sounded harsh, but Isolde's terror was growing with each step and infecting me as well.

The farther we went the more she jerked and shrieked at each twig snap or animal cry. At one point the bushes in front of us rustled and Isolde screamed and collapsed to the ground, spooking the horse into rearing and prancing. When a covey of quail flew out of the bush with wildly beating wings, Isolde fainted.

This was really getting on my nerves. I was anxious enough without having her throwing a conniption fit every five seconds.

Finding the skin of water, I splashed some on her face. She came to and looked around in fear.

"Quail," I said shortly. "It was a bunch of quail."

I could hear her heart pounding from two steps away.

"Forgive me, my lady," she panted. "I will be brave." She struggled to her feet.

"I've been thinking," I said. "It's getting too close for the horse. He's not going to be able to make it much farther."

"We cannot turn back!" she cried. "You promised we would find my daughter!"

I made a face. "I promised that I would _look_ ," I reminded her. "Here's my thought. Why don't you take the horse back to the town?"

She began to protest so I held up a hand for silence. "You take him back, and I will continue alone. I can move faster and quieter on my own."

A bird chirped in the tree above us and Isolde squealed and cowered in terror.

"Do you think you can be brave enough to travel back to the town alone?" I asked her with a serious face. "Your daughter's life might depend on it."

She was torn. I knew she longed to see her little girl again, but she was also terrified of the N'jeri and I was afraid that if we found Ann's grisly remains that Isolde would crack. At least this way I could continue the search and maybe bring her back something that would let her know what had happened to her daughter. It was cruel to leave a mother always with the hope that maybe, just maybe, her child was still alive.

"Can you do it, Isolde?" I asked. "I need you to take the horse back alone. For your daughter."

She stood up tall. "I will be brave," she quivered. "But, please, please, find my Ann."

I placed a hand on my heart. "I will do my best, I promise."

With many more tearful comments she finally led the horse away into the forest, back the way we had come, and I was left alone in the woods.

We had been following the trail the previous searchers had left. While I was no master tracker, I could spot signs of a large group of men crashing through the brush. The land sloped gently upward and the undergrowth would have made walking difficult if a path had not already been blazed.

I sang and hummed to myself to pass the time. For obvious reasons my brain chose lyrics like, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

After a long time, which seemed like hours to me even though the sun was not yet directly overhead, I came upon a clearing. A shallow stream cut across it diagonally, and the grassy bank had evidence of animals frequenting this spot for water.

It was here that the trail I was following ended. This must have been where the men decided to turn back and inform Isolde of her loss. I couldn't blame them. In fact, I almost turned back as well, but my promise to bring back Ann or proof of her death stopped me.

To the side of the clearing, under a rocky overhang, there was a pile of leaves and bracken. Not horrifying in and of itself, it was the smell, and the buzz of flies, that set my heart pounding as I tiptoed across the rocky grass.

Wilson was vibrating urgently in its sheath so I pulled it out and held it ready. The sound of the flies grew louder and louder as I approached, as did the smell. I had to cover my nose with the crook of my arm and take shallow gasps through my mouth. It was a putrefying odor.

Finally I was within sword's reach of the leaves and I gingerly flipped some away with Wilson's tip. There was a scrap of badly dyed red cloth, stained with blood.

I gagged and found myself on the other side of the clearing heaving up the remains of my breakfast. Hot tears streamed down my face. I had told myself that I was ready to find Ann's dead body, but I'd been lying. I'd still had a crazy hope that she was just lost in the woods somewhere and I would find her and bring her back and everything would be okay.

Rising my mouth out in the stream I pondered my next steps. I needed to bring something back to show Isolde. Something to allow her to grieve and move on with her life. That meant that I needed to go back to the pile of leaves and look closer.

It was harder the second time. The smell almost made me throw up again, and only by keeping Isolde's face in my mind could I approach the rotting corpse. I dislodged some more leaves and branches with the tip of my sword and then stopped in shock.

Either Ann had horns, or I was disturbing the final resting place of a large deer.

# Chapter Seven

Curiosity made me look closer. I was uncovering the corpse of a large male deer, crowned with a rack of horns. Or rather, half of the corpse of a male deer. There was nothing from the chest down. The organs, stomach, haunches, and hind legs were gone, leaving ragged torn edges behind.

I quickly moved to the other side of the clearing where the smell wasn't so overpowering and tried to think.

Now that I was being rational and logical, I could see how silly I had been. Ann had been missing for one day, maybe two. Hardly enough time to get lost, die, decompose, smell horrendous, and collect a colony of flies. So much I had learned from crime scene dramas.

What I had found was an animal's larder. Some creature, and rather large from the look of the teeth marks, had stowed its catch here to eat later.

The thing that was puzzling me was that if I, with my total lack of experience with anything dead or dying, could tell that this was not Ann, why had the search party turned back?

The answer was right at my feet, pressed into the softer sand near the edge of the stream. It was a paw print. A paw print the size of a dinner plate, and whatever had made it was heavy.

"N'jeri," I breathed out softly.

The thing that Isolde and the men had been so terrified of. The magical creature that ate people and was impervious to arrows. No wonder the men had run away.

Fortunately, I was a modern woman and did not allow my fear to control my feet. Sure, I was a little nervous. Who wouldn't be? But clearly the animal had not returned to its kill, which meant that it was no longer in the area. And Ann was still missing. I actually had _more_ hope now of finding her alive.

And I had some serious doubts about the "magicallity" of the animal, whatever it was. It was probably just a large dog that was living wild in the woods, more afraid of people than they were of it. The key with dogs was to not show fear. If I ran into the N'jeri, I would just yell and look menacing and I was sure it would flee.

So, that decided, I looked carefully for signs of Ann's trail. Now that I no longer could follow the wide path left by the search party, I would have to go slower. I finally found a tiny footprint near the stream, almost at the edge of the clearing. Feeling renewed confidence I set off in the direction the print pointed.

I didn't make it far. A low growl made me freeze, the small hairs on the nape of my neck standing up in fear. Slowly, I turned around, my "non-rational" self screaming at my "modern" brain that it needed to be scared. Very, very scared.

On the other side of the clearing, across the stream, a massive animal was just slinking out of the woods. If I had seen it from a distance I might have said it was a wolf. From up close... I had no idea what it was. Its head was lupine, with pointy ears and sharp teeth just showing around the edges of its heavy muzzle. But it was almost as large as the horse I had been riding, with dark shaggy fur, enormous, cat-like paws, and glowing yellow eyes.

"The key is to not show fear," I murmured sarcastically to myself. "Yeah, right."

My options flashed through my brain. I could run. But that thing looked like it could leap the stream and be on my back in a single bound. I could climb a tree. But there weren't any trees nearby with low enough branches. I could attack. Wilson liked this idea. Dumb luck had kept me from sheathing him and I was still holding the sword in my hand.

I decided to go with option "D." Which was, growl myself and try to look big and intimidating. It took all my courage to move a step closer to the wolf in what I hoped was a threatening manner.

"Go away!" I yelled.

It roared back at me, giving me a good look at sharp, pointy teeth and a gaping red maw. Muscles rippling, it glided smoothly towards me, emitting a bone vibrating growl.

I should have gone with option "A."

Wilson was sending sparks of courage up my arms. I just didn't know how useful a sword, even a magical one, would be against a beast this size. It would take extreme luck to plunge the blade somewhere lethal. Although I supposed that _anywhere_ would be lethal, just to me, not to it.

It wasn't like I had a whole lot of choice. I could curl up in a ball and wait to be eaten, or I could go down fighting. The end result was the same, but at least the second way I could see what was coming.

I took a firm grip on the sword and moved forward another two steps. We were now staring at each other from opposite sides of the stream. I had read enough about wolves to know not to lower my gaze and my eyes were watering from trying to stare without blinking. I kept my chin tucked down so as not to look submissive and tried to look as big and bad as I could.

To give me extra courage I began to sing "I Will Survive" in my head.

_Go on now go... walk out the door... la da da da la da da da... mmmmmhmmmmm! I will survive... la, la, la,... I will da something, something, something la, da, da, da, da, da..._ I couldn't remember the words, it was the attitude that counted.

To my great surprise the wolf whined and lowered itself to the ground, covering its ears with a huge paw.

I stood, half-crouched, holding Wilson two-handed before me, ready to die in a spectacularly gory and painful manner. My internal music track switched to "The Eye of the Tiger."

Bumm... Dum. Dum. Dum... Dum. Dum. Dum... Dum. Dum. Dummmmmmm...

The wolf creature— _N'jeri_ whispered the part of my brain that liked to focus on unimportant details—lifted its head and began to howl.

I was puzzled. It wasn't like I was doing anything remotely frightening. I was probably sending out fear hormones. And yet, the N'jeri was acting like I was... _hurting_... it.

I relaxed a bit and my playlist jumped back to "I Will Survive." _At first I was afraid, I was petrified_...

The N'jeri let out a broken yelp and leaped the stream, crashing into me and flattening me to the ground, completely pinned beneath its weight. Jaws that could easily swallow my head whole snapped millimeters from my face.

_This is it_ , I thought. _I'm dead._

_:Only if you keep singing:_ I heard in my head, as clear as if the words had been spoken out loud.

The N'jeri slowly lifted its weight and stood over me, its four legs looking like huge hairy pillars. I stared up into golden eyes and I realized that I was still alive.

_I'm still alive!_ part of my brain screamed.

The N'jeri flattened its ears to its head and let out a pained growl.

_:You're so_ loud _:_ said the voice in my head.

I blinked, connecting the dots. Not dead. Voice in my head. Was this creature... _talking_ to me?

:You've got to learn some shielding. I could hear you from five miles away:

My heart rate was still in the extreme cardio range and black spots were floating in my vision. If I didn't start taking deeper breaths I would probably pass out from hyperventilating. Then I wouldn't be able to figure out if this man-killing beast was actually trying to converse with me.

_:"Trying" is right:_ the voice sounded annoyed. _:And I object to the man-killing part:_

I screamed and frantically scuttled out from underneath the monster. I don't know why, but for some reason a _talking_ beast was way more scary than just a mindless killing machine.

The N'jeri sat like a dog and scratched an ear with a hind leg while I cowered and shuddered. Unfortunately, I had chosen to run to the side of the clearing with the dead deer and the smell was making my nose throb.

"What are you?" I asked in a shaky voice. "I know you're talking to me."

The N'jeri stopped its scratching and gave me an enigmatic look.

The horrendous odor was overcoming my fear and I inched away from the deer, and, consequently, closer to the N'jeri. The thing was huge! The top of its shoulders was almost even with my own, and I wouldn't want to get hit with the tree trunk of a tail.

"What are you?" I asked again in wonder.

It cocked its head to one side and studied me.

_:What are_ you _?:_ it asked.

"Me?" I said in surprise. "I'm a human."

It let out a short bark. _:No...:_ it said, _:...you're different somehow...:_

"I don't think so," I said carefully. "I'm just me. Human."

I took another step away from the dead deer. As I did so, the neck of my shirt opened slightly and the N'jeri caught a glimpse of my torque.

It growled in anger, ears flattened, lips pulled back, eyes turning red in fury.

_:Godmother:_ it snarled.

My hand flew up to my neck. "What—?" I said. "This? No! No! I don't know how I got it. I killed this crazy lady and it just... appeared on my neck!"

Holding Wilson in front of me, I readied myself for the animal's spring. It would leap at me, jaws snapping on my throat, and I would have one chance to plunge my sword into its heart before I was killed.

The N'jeri slowly circled me, its body a coiled spring. I turned just as slowly, keeping the sword between us at all times.

I thought about not waiting for the charge and attacking preemptively.

_:That would be a bad idea:_ the voice in my head said again.

The N'jeri let out a long sigh and flopped to the ground, front legs stretched out before it.

"Why?" I asked, starting to get creeped out that it could so easily read my thoughts.

_:Read your thoughts!:_ it said. _:It's all I can do to fend them off! You project like a hailstorm!:_

"Huh?" was my less than intelligent reply.

_:Never mind:_ it said. _:So:_ it studied me some more. _:Not a godmother. A godmother slayer:_ It stretched its head forward and sniffed the tip of my blade.

_:Ah._ Caroban-Ubica _. That explains a lot:_

"Huh?" I said again. This wild pendulum of I'm-going-to-die, I'm-still-alive, was wearing on my nerves. "Look, N'jeri-thingy," I snipped. "Are you going to try to eat me or what?"

_:Do you want me to?:_ it asked.

"No," I grumped. "But what exactly is our relationship here? You're a man-eating monster, and I'm just supposed to sit here and talk with you?"

Six-inch claws shot out of its front toes and then retracted. _:Or we could fight:_ it suggested blandly.

I wasn't ready to call it my BFF, but I wasn't ready to die either. "Did you eat Ann?" I accused it, holding Wilson ready. If it said "yes" I was going to have to try and kill it. I would die. But at least I'd have done the right thing.

_:Who is Ann?:_ it asked curiously, one ear rising higher than the other like a puppy.

"Bet you didn't know your dinner had a name!" I said hotly. "She was a little girl who was loved by her mother, Isolde. And tonight, I'm going to have to tell that mother that she's never going to hold her daughter in her arms again! Right after I kill you!"

I leaped forward with a yell, planning to slice the wolf-thing's neck open with one mighty swipe. I never made it close. The N'jeri jerked to the side and caught my blade in its teeth, wresting it from my hands.

It shuddered and dropped the sword, steam rising from burnt lips. I stood there shuddering, waiting for the blow that would break my spine. I had tried to avenge Ann and I had failed.

_:Definitely_ Caroban-Ubica _:_ the N'jeri said in disgust.

"What?" I yelled. "What are you talking about?"

_:The name of your sword:_ it said, pawing at the handle. _:It means "Magic Slayer":_

"Its name is Wilson," I growled between clenched teeth.

The N'jeri dropped its hind end to the ground with both back feet off to the side, looking just like how my Nana's dog liked to sit, except a hundred times bigger.

_:No. I'm pretty sure it's_ Caroban-Ubica _:_ it said. _:There's no other way to kill a godmother:_

"And _I'm_ pretty sure that it's _my_ sword and _I_ named it _Wilson_!" I screamed, starting to lose it.

It pulled its ears back and whined. _:Why are you so loud?:_

"Did you eat a little girl today?" I shrieked at it. "Did you?"

_:No!:_ it said, offended. _:Why would you think such a thing?:_

"You didn't?" I asked deflated.

:No:

"Oh," I said, all the energy draining from my body. "Umm... sorry about trying to kill you then."

_:Oh, that? Is that what you were trying to do?:_ The N'jeri opened its mouth and laughed silently.

I sniffed grandly. "I'm new at this," I said.

:Obviously:

"I've never killed anyone before a couple of days ago."

:I'm not surprised:

I glared at it. "I've never done _anything_ like this before!" I studied the creature, from its wolf-shaped head, to its big cat paws, to its horse sized body. "And I've never seen anything like you before."

Its head whipped around to its side and it began to nip, going after a flea. _:Do you always try to kill things you haven't seen before?:_ it asked.

Carefully sitting down on a smooth stone, I tried to explain. "Isolde said that everyone was terrified of you. That you were a magical monster who was impervious to arrow or sword. That you feasted on the flesh of humans. Plus," I added, "everyone thought you killed and ate the little girl who is missing."

I jumped to my feet. "I'm supposed to be looking for her!" I exclaimed. "If you didn't kill her, then she could still be alive!"

_:Presumably:_ the N'jeri agreed. It rolled over on its back and wriggled about, showing me that "it" was a "he."

"Okay," I said carefully. "Sorry about the trying to kill you thing... I'll just... umm, take off then. Ok?"

The N'jeri rolled to his feet and scratched.

_:Would you be interested in a deal?:_ he asked, stretching.

I paused and stared at him. The longer I was near the N'jeri the less I feared it. In fact, I was starting to want to give him a good scratch around the ears and a pat on the head. Sure, he was big, but so are Great Danes, and I'd always liked dogs.

"What kind of deal?" I asked.

_:One that benefits us both:_ he said. _:I will track the human youngling for you and in return, you pull all the stickers out of my fur:_

I laughed. "It sucks to not have opposable thumbs, huh?"

He growled at me lightly. _:If you think blunt teeth, thin skin, and no sense of smell is a fair trade...:_

"What about fleas?" I asked with a wicked grin.

He scratched some more. _:The bane of my existence:_

Stepping close to the massive beast, I slid Wilson back into my sheath. I no longer felt threatened. Our eyes were almost level with each other and I could smell his doggy breath.

"We have a deal," I said, reaching out and gently tugging a clump of stickers out of the ruff around his throat. "If you're lucky, maybe I'll even throw in a bath."

He whined a bit and leaned into my hand as I rubbed the spot between his eyes.

"You're just a big, overgrown, puppy, aren't you?" I asked with a laugh.

_:Forget the bath:_ he said contentedly. _:How about a roasted steak dinner?:_

"Roasted?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

_:Just because I look like a wild animal, doesn't mean I have to eat like one:_ he said grandly.

I looked pointedly over at the decaying deer.

_:I'm curing it:_ he said loftily. _:It tastes better with age:_

"Yeah, sure," I said sarcastically. "I think I'll pass."

I ruffled his fur a bit more. "Can you really track down the missing child?" I asked.

The N'jeri gave me a scornful look. _:I can smell her from here:_ he announced.

Bounding to his paws, he took off through the woods with me struggling to keep up. Over the next painful hour, I tripped on branches, stumbled in grass-hidden holes, got smacked in the face with brush, slid down muddy slopes, and generally abused every single inch of my body. My clothing was holding up much better than my skin. The leather didn't tear, and was easily brushed free of dirt. By the time we stopped for a breather, I was sweaty, dirty, and tired. And maybe just the tiniest bit grumpy.

_:Still happy about those opposable thumbs?:_ the N'jeri asked, panting in the shade of a tall tree.

His four paws and wiry fur let him slip through the underbrush like a ghost. If he hadn't kept circling back for me I would have lost him within the first five minutes.

"I'm going to die," I said theatrically, leaning against my own tree. "How much farther?"

He sniffed the air. _:We're close. Very close:_

Eager to find the little girl, we pressed on, slower now, the N'jeri keeping his nose to the ground and tracking back and forth around the trees.

In the end, I spotted Ann before the N'jeri did. He was still circling, following the scent trail, when I saw a splash of red hidden under a bush. I rushed forward and parted the branches.

Sleeping peacefully under the bush was a little girl, her face streaked with muddy tears. She was wearing a splotchy red cloak, and was clinging to a carved wooden doll. I felt my throat close up in emotion. She was alive!

A cold nose brushed my neck, making me squeal quietly.

:Ah, you found her:

I couldn't help it. I threw my arms around the N'jeri's neck and gave him a huge hug. "Thank you!" I whispered.

He stiffened, but after a moment relaxed into the embrace.

_:You are welcome:_ He sounded surprised.

Ann began to stir. Her eyes fluttered open and she let out a piercing scream. Sounding like a fire alarm, she let out ear shattering shrieks until her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.

# Chapter Eight

I rocked back on my heels. "Not the greeting I was expecting," I admitted.

I looked back at the N'jeri. He was sitting just behind me, jaws open and tongue spilling out as he happily panted.

"What was that all about?" I asked him.

_:I'm a monster:_ he said with a huge doggy grin.

"Oh."

_:She's probably been told horror stories about my kind:_ he offered.

"Do you really eat people?" I had a hard time believing that anything this intelligent could also be a murderer. Silly, I know. _People_ kill people all the time, why would it be strange for an animal to kill a person, even if that animal could talk?

_:No:_ the N'jeri said. _:But others of my kind do:_ He laid his ears back and whined. _:I was hunting one in the mountains near here. He had many human bones in his den:_

I made a face.

"What do we do?" I asked. "I don't know if I can convince her to not be afraid."

The N'jeri cocked his head to one side. _:I still want my fur brushed:_ he pointed out.

"Maybe I could meet you later?" I asked. Although I had no idea how to get back to the town on my own.

He lowered his front end to the ground, rear in the air, tail wagging. _:There is another way:_ he said playfully.

"One that doesn't involve giving her nightmares for the rest of her life?" I asked.

He barked once.

I gently arranged Ann so that she looked more comfortable and moved back from the bush.

"Well? What is it? I'm hoping she wakes up again soon, and I'd like to get her back to her mom before nightfall."

The big wolf-creature nosed my right hand. _:Your ring:_ he said. _:It's made of platinum?:_

I twisted the thin band on my finger. It had been my mother's, handed down from _her_ mother, and too precious to pawn.

_:Take it off:_ the N'jeri ordered.

"Why?" I asked stubbornly. Right now, that little circle of metal was all I had to remind me of the real world.

He sighed loudly. _:N'jeris can only be controlled by a powerful mage. The mage binds one of us through a silver collar which channels the mage's power and allows him, or her, to control one of us:_

I frowned. "So that won't work!" I felt relieved. I didn't want to take off my mom's ring.

:Exactly!:

"No," I explained. "My ring isn't silver. So it won't work."

_:You're not a powerful mage either:_ the N'jeri pointed out. _:Although you are powerful. It's just for looks:_

I swallowed.

_:Any human who sees the silver collar on me will know that I am controlled by a mage and therefore not scary:_ he wheedled.

"Because these mages are kind benevolent people who spread joy and peace wherever they go?" I asked caustically.

_:There is that:_ the wolf agreed. _:But then they would be afraid of_ you _not of me:_

"Do I have another option?" I asked hopefully.

:Can you find your way back to the town by yourself?:

"No," I sighed.

:Then take off the ring:

I reluctantly wiggled it off and held it out to him.

:No opposable thumbs, remember?:

" _I_ can't do anything with this!" I exclaimed. "It's too small to go around your neck."

_:Sit:_ I was told. _:Close your eyes and hold the edges of the ring with both hands:_

I did so, feeling really silly.

_:Now, do you know any words of power?:_ he asked me.

I opened one eye a crack and glared at him. "I'm not exactly from around here."

_:Umm... try_ aestus _:_ he suggested.

I closed my eye and tried to _feel_ something. " _Aestus!"_ I intoned then yelped as the metal turned searing hot in my hands.

"Holy crap!" I cursed. "What was that?" I shook a finger in the N'jeri's face. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"

He looked embarrassed. _:Perhaps,_ augeo _?:_

I gingerly picked up the ring, which had instantly cooled, and resumed my cross-legged seat. Taking a deep breath, I softly said, " _Augeo."_

To my surprise, I felt the metal stretch under my fingers and as I pulled my hands apart, the ring grew in size, thickening and expanding.

_:Stop!:_ the N'jeri said, and I dropped the ring which was now over a foot in diameter.

:Perfect!:

I picked it up again and weighed it in my hand. "Where did the extra metal come from?" I asked in amazement.

The N'jeri blinked. _:From your magic:_ he explained.

"But where did it _come_ from?" I insisted. "It increased in mass. Scientifically that's impossible, unless it came from somewhere else."

He gave a shake. _:Who cares?:_

I stuck out my tongue. "I care. And I'm not so sure about this. It feels like lying."

The giant wolf dropped into a sit. _:I only kill humans who try to kill me:_ he said.

"You could just lead us close to the town and then disappear!" I protested.

:And what if we run into someone?:

I didn't want anyone's death to be on my head.

"Very well," I said. "What do I do?"

:Do? You just put it around my neck:

"I thought there was a magical ceremony or something, binding you to my power?"

_:If you were_ really _doing this, with a_ silver _ring, then yes:_ he let his tongue loll out mockingly, _:But I'd like to see you try:_

"Fine," I huffed and slipped the metal band over his furry ears. It changed shape to fit snuggly and when I removed my hands, looked like it was impossible to get off.

"Now we both have one," I said, fingering my own torque.

_:Except you belong to the magic, and I belong to no one:_ the N'jeri said.

I rolled my eyes. A movement caught my attention and I turned to see Ann slowly sitting up.

"Hey, honey!" I called, rushing to her. "Don't freak out! Look, see the doggy's collar? He belongs to me."

The little girl stared at me with wide eyes. Then she peeked around me to give the same terrified stare to the N'jeri who woofed happily at her.

"It's okay, sweetie," I babbled. "Your mommy sent me to get you. I'm going to take you home, okay?"

She nodded silently and held out her arms. I picked her up and she clung like a limpet around my neck.

The trek back through the woods was worse than the previous mad dash. This time I had no free hands to push branches aside, or break my fall when I slid and stumbled. Ann remained quiet, and even though she was light, I grew tired with the effort of carrying her.

We stopped multiple times to rest and the sun was beginning to set in the west, casting long shadows that hid fallen branches and foot-catching holes in the ground.

At one such break I finally asked the question that had been bothering me for the past ten minutes. "What's your name?"

The wolf-creature turned to me, his eyes glowing in the low light. _:My name? Would you really try to claim me?:_

"What?" I said surprised. "No! I just want to know what to call you."

_:Names have power:_ he said solemnly.

"Mine's Morgan," I said sharply. I wasn't buying into this whole magic thing. In my world, you introduced yourself when you met. It was polite.

The N'jeri loomed over me. _:Nice to meet you, Morgan:_ he said with a hint of sarcasm.

"And how come you talk different than everyone else?" I wondered.

:How do I talk different?:

"The other people were so... formal," I tried to explain. "All polite language. 'A thousand pardons, my lady,' like a Shakespearean play. You talk like me."

_:I'm talking in your head:_ he pointed out. _:_ You _are the one filling in the words:_

"So, like you're sending ideas and my brain is the one putting them into sentences?"

:Probably. I've never conversed much with a godmother before:

"I'm not a godmother," I said reflexively.

:Potato, po-tah-to:

"See!" I said. "That's an American idiom. How do you know it?"

_:I merely said...:_ he struggled for a moment. _:... If two things smell the same, it doesn't matter if you call them different names:_

"Speaking of names," I said, going back to my original question. "What's yours? Or, at least, what can I call you? I need something other than, 'Hey, you.'"

The N'jeri lay with his nose between his front paws. _:You give me a name:_

A name popped into my head. "Fenris Ulf," I said quickly.

Two furry ears perked forward in interest.

"It's from a book my mom used to read me when I was little," I explained. "He's the wolf captain of the witch queen's guard. Mom told me that the name comes from Norse mythology. Fenris Ulf was the wolf-shaped son of Loki, the god of chaos."

_:Fenris Ulf:_ the N'jeri said meditatively. _:I like it:_

"Very well, Fenris," I said, pulling my aching bones upright. "I don't want to spend the night in the woods. How about you, Ann?" I asked the little girl, who was still mute, and clinging to me.

She didn't answer.

_:At least she's not screaming:_ Fenris said.

By the end of our trek, I was blindly putting one foot in front of the other and could for-see no future other than an eternity of mindless agony. The edge of the woods caught me by surprise as I stumbled out into the fields. The town windows flickered in the dark, and it was all I could do to force myself to cross that last distance.

The streets of the town were empty and I had no idea where Isolde lived. I decided to go back to Agnes' home but took many wrong turns before finally finding the door. Wearily I shifted Ann's sleeping body to one hip and knocked on the wood.

The door burst open, spilling candle light into the street. Agnes gasped when she saw us, and Isolde appeared behind her, hands clasped, and hope burning in her eyes. She let out a scream when she saw Ann and swept her from my arms, collapsing to the ground and rocking her daughter as if she would never let go.

The little girl awoke at the sound and began to cry as well, clinging to her mother and shaking.

The sound of their reunion alerted the town that I had returned and doors up and down the street began to open as people came forth to see what was going on. Fenris lay still in a dark shadow by the door and no one noticed him until the mayor called for torches.

Shock froze every face as their excitement turned to fear. One of the men pulled a short knife from his belt and held it ready. Fenris curled his lip and let out a low rumble.

"It's okay!" I said hurriedly. "He's with me."

Isolde finally noticed what was going on. Still cradling Ann, she stepped forward.

"The N'jeri?" she whispered in awe.

_:Point out my collar:_ Fenris said smugly.

"See?" I said, grabbing a torch and holding it near Fenris' head. The light glinted off the metal band and everyone took a step backwards, eyes even wider with dismay.

"What?" I asked. "He's okay. He's not going to hurt anyone."

_:They're not scared of me anymore:_ Fenris said in my head. _:They're scared of you:_

"Great," I muttered.

Agnes laid a trembling hand on my arm. "You... you _tamed_ the N'jeri?"

"Yes," I grumped. "But the important part is, I found Ann."

Agnes fell to the ground and all the townspeople followed suit, bowing low.

"We are not worthy of your attention, oh great one," Isolde quavered. "My life is yours in return for the life of my child."

I stamped my foot. "We've been through this already!" I exclaimed. "I don't want your life!"

The mayor inched forward, still cowering low.

"We are but poor people, my lady," he fawned. "Unworthy of your presence. Trouble us no more with your greatness!"

I blinked. He was trying to get rid of me! Again!

_:Want me to leap to my feet and snarl?:_ Fenris asked.

"No," I said sharply.

The mayor flinched, thinking I was talking to him. I gazed around at the terrified faces. Even Isolde was looking at me like I was some sort of dangerous monster. I made a face. Could I really blame them? Well, yes, I could, but I shouldn't. The best thing to do was obviously to leave.

I nodded shortly. "I will leave," I said quietly.

Isolde dared to speak. "Thank you," she whispered.

A real smile crossed my face. I might not be getting the welcome I wanted, but I had done something good.

The people stood and watched us depart, not feeling safe until we passed the last building and were out into the fields. As I entered the woods behind Fenris I could hear the sounds of a celebration begin. Whether they were celebrating Ann's return or my departure, I didn't know.

# Chapter Nine

My mood the next morning was cranky to say the least. It had been too dark to travel the path to the castle and we had been forced to spend the night in the woods. I was cold, and aching, and tired, and the tree I had chosen to sleep under had dripped morning dew all down the back of my shirt.

"I want a toothbrush and a cup of coffee and a bagel!" I snarled, when Fenris lifted his huge head to look at me.

_:You could also use a hairbrush:_ he pointed out snidely.

I felt the tangled mass on my head and groaned.

_:You still owe me a brush as well:_ he added, lowering his head and closing his eyes.

"How about a flea dip?" I suggested, scratching.

Fenris yawned and smacked his lips ignoring me.

"Come on furball," I said, bending to touch my toes and then reaching up to the sky. "When we get to the castle I'll find you something to eat."

The big wolf stretched languidly to his feet.

:Now that is worth waking up for:

My feet seemed to have swollen during the night and my boots pinched as we walked along the forest path. My head was filled with longing for a hot shower and a soft bed.

_:After a good brushing:_ Fenris reminded me.

I reached over and laid my hand on his shoulder. "You deserve it," I told him honestly. "I never would have found Ann without you."

_:You are remarkably helpless in the woods:_ he agreed.

I gave him a push with my fingers. "I'm not from around here," I said sadly. "Hey," hope sprung up in my chest, "can you read?"

:Read?:

"Yeah. There are these books in the... godmother's library."

Fenris growled.

"Whoa!" I cried. "I'm the good guy remember? I just want to find a way home."

:Where is home?:

I sighed. "I don't know," I said. "The United States. America. Somewhere with cell phones, and cars, and Starbucks coffee, and absolutely no magic!"

:Sounds dreadful:

"You've never had Starbucks," I said grimly.

:Why do you want to go back?:

"Because it's home!"

_:You have family:_ he said sagely.

I swallowed hard. "No," I said shortly.

Fenris swung his head towards me. "No family?"

I dashed a tear off my cheek. "Just my Nana, but she's not really all there anymore. She probably doesn't even realize I missing. This godmother lady, she killed my dad."

Fenris growled again.

"He gave me the sword," I said, reaching back to pat Wilson's hilt. "I would have died without it."

_:There is no reason to feel guilty:_ Fenris read my thoughts. _:Your father wanted you to live:_

"Yeah, I know," I said embarrassed. "So," I looked around, pretending brightness, "can you read? I'm hoping the books in the library can explain how to open that portal to get home."

Fenris let out a woof. _:I doubt I can read the godmother's books:_ he said.

My heart plummeted.

:Ironically, the only one who could send you home... :

I groaned. "I killed the only person who could help?"

His tail wagged once.

"Great," I whined.

_:If it is any consolation, she would not have helped you:_ he said.

"I know that," I grumped.

We had entered the valley around the castle and I picked up the pace, eager to reach civilization. The distance between the edge of the forest and the castle walls had grown, it seemed like forever before I was finally trudging up the front steps.

Fenris stopped me, placing his huge furry body between me and the door.

"Move it, dog," I snapped. "I'm getting a shower."

He lifted one corner of his lip and stared me down.

"Fine!" I yelled, throwing my hands in the air. I stomped back down the stairs and towards the stable.

"Selfish, jerk-face," I muttered under my breath, slamming open a stall door and looking around for a brush.

_:I can he-e-e-ar you:_ Fenris sang.

I grabbed a comb and brush and whirled to find myself nose to nose with him. Starting in with a vengeance I began to comb, tug, and yank stickers and matted knots out of the wolf's fur.

_:Take it easy!:_ Fenris yelped.

I slowed, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "I just hate feeling so dirty."

Fenris yawed and leaned into my brush. _:Me too:_ he said. : _I like to get clean at least twice a year:_

"Nice," I laughed.

_:What?:_ he asked. _:I bathe more often than those villagers do:_

"That's disgusting," I said with a wrinkled nose.

:Why?:

"Because," I said in disgust. "Germs! Bacteria! Disease!"

_:You have a lot of that where you come from?:_ he asked with interest.

"No," I said, moving to a new spot in his fur. "Because we bathe."

:Maybe we don't have... :

"Germs?" I filled in.

:Exactly. Maybe there are no germs here:

I examined the dirt caked under my fingernails. "I doubt it."

In the end I had a stack of twigs and stickers, sore fingers, and a silky furred wolf.

"You look nice," I said, standing back to admire the effect.

Fenris padded quietly for the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked, suddenly worried that he would leave me alone. Having someone to talk to, even if that someone was huge and furry, made me feel far less lonely and scared.

_:There's a nice patch of dirt just outside the castle:_ he announced.

"What!" I shrieked.

_:What?:_ he asked puzzled. _:I need to take a dirt bath:_

"Oh, no you don't!" I yelled grabbing his tail.

He whirled and razor sharp teeth snapped inches from my hands.

I moved my grip to his metal collar. "You are _not_ wasting all my hard work," I said firmly.

Fenrish pawed at my hand. _:I'm too clean:_ he complained.

I leaned in close and sniffed. "No. You're not clean enough. Come inside and I'll give you a bath."

His ears flattened and he whined.

"With flowery soap," I added heartlessly.

His whine grew louder.

"All right," I pretended to cave. "I won't give you a bath, if you won't go roll in the dirt."

_:What about on a dead animal?:_ he asked hopefully.

"You want to go roll on a dead animal," I dead-panned.

_:For the smell:_ he explained.

"No," I said. "Not if you want dinner."

His jaw dropped open and he laughed silently at me.

"You big rug!" I yelled, smacking him. "You were teasing me!"

_:Come to think of it:_ he smirked, _:I could just roll on you. You smell about as bad as a dead animal... :_

I let go of his collar and dashed for the door, Fenris right on my heels, nipping the air behind me.

"You have to catch me first!" I yelled.

***

The bath was heavenly, I stayed in until my skin wrinkled like a dried prune, and then I drained the tub and refilled it again with more hot water. All the aches and pains melted away in the heat and I drowsily hummed show tunes to myself.

_:Please stop singing:_ Fenris said in my head, making me jump and reach for a bath towel. _:It's painful:_

I looked wildly around the bathroom, but I was still alone.

_:Yes, you're alone and belting out off-pitch music:_ he growled.

"You can hear me?" I whispered, still turning to make sure I was not being watched.

_:I'd love to_ not _hear you:_ he replied.

"I'm not singing out loud," I protested, quickly drying off. It felt too weird to be naked in the tub while I was talking to someone else.

_:You're singing louder than out loud:_ he complained. _:Has no one taught you to shield your thoughts?:_

"No," I said sarcastically. "No one ever has. I wonder why? Oh, I know! Because where I come from, inside your head is private!"

_:It's hardly private if you're screaming it to the world at large:_ he shot back. _:Besides. I'm hungry:_

"I fail to see what that has to do with anything," I sniffed.

I got the feeling of amusement as Fenris faded from my mind. Wrapped in a towel I went back to the wardrobe to find something wearable. To my great surprise, the clothes I had thrown on the floor were clean and neatly folded on the bed.

I held up the leather pants and sniffed them. They smelled faintly of lilacs and soap.

"Uh, Fenris?" I said out loud.

:Yes?:

"We're not alone," I whispered. "Someone cleaned my clothes."

_:I hope you weren't planning on wearing them dirty:_ he sounded smug.

"Who cleaned my clothes?" I asked, slipping quickly into them.

I had Wilson strapped to my back before even stopping to think about it. When I realized, it made me a little uncomfortable. I was used to fighting with words, or at the very worst, un-friending someone on Facebook. I shouldn't feel so at home with a sword. It should make me uneasy, but instead, it made me feel safe and complete, and _that_ feeling was making me uneasy.

_:Stop navel gazing and get down here:_ Fenris ordered.

"I am _not_ navel gazing," I growled, "and you still haven't told me who cleaned my clothes."

_:The godmother bound spirits to this place:_ Fenris told me.

"Spirits?" I looked around nervously. "Like, 'who you gonna call'?" I sang.

_:No singing!:_ Fenris yelped. _:She just has invisible servants:_

"What kind of invisible servants?" I asked, turning around and around, trying to see behind me. "Male or female? And was someone watching me in the bathtub?"

:I believe they are the spirits of people she has killed. They are bound here to serve and obey her:

"But she's dead," I pointed out the obvious. "Why are they still here?"

_:They are now bound to you:_ he told me.

"Oh." I didn't like the sound of that.

_:Are you coming to eat?:_ I was asked impatiently. _:I want to start your lessons:_

"What lessons?" I asked, giving the room one last look as I slipped out the door.

:Your shielding lessons:

"Why?" I entered the kitchen. Fenris was stretched out in front of the fire while a pot of stew bubbled on a hook, sending delicious smells through the air. My stomach rumbled.

_:So I don't eat you:_ he said dryly.

"You wouldn't eat me," I said, stepping over his tail in order to sniff the stew.

_:I will if you don't learn to be quiet:_ He sounded serious.

"Fine," I grinned, grabbing a bowl and scooping up some stew. "Did you make this?"

:No. The spirits did:

I walked around him and sat at the table. "They made lunch?"

:Yes:

"And they cleaned my clothes."

:Thankfully. You were a little ripe:

I refused to be side-tracked. "I'm assuming then that they also could have brushed you."

_:Probably:_ he gave me a yellow-eyed stare.

I rolled my eyes. "You're a jerk. You know that?"

_:It was an important life lesson for you:_ he said, stretching and then sticking his nose in the pot.

"Hey!" I yelped. "I might have wanted some more!"

Fenris turned, a piece of cabbage dangling off his nose. _:There's still more:_ he said surprised.

"You got your germs all over it," I muttered.

_:We don't have germs here:_ he replied.

"I am not having this argument with you again," I said.

Fenris stuck his head back in the pot. _:You still want some more?:_ he asked.

"No, thanks," I said dryly. "I'm good."

He licked his lips and flopped back down on the floor. _:Now, young one:_ he said. _:It is time to begin your training:_

# Chapter Ten

"This is stupid," I said, staring hard at the three upside down bowls on the table before me.

_:Focus:_ Fenris rebuked me.

"I _am_!" I growled.

_:That one:_ he nosed the bowl on the left.

I wearily turned it over to reveal a small pebble beneath.

_:You're not trying:_ he snapped.

"We've been doing this all morning!" I griped. "I'm tired and I'm hungry and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be accomplishing here."

:All of which you have been mentally yelling for the past hour:

"When you said 'training' I thought you meant... something cooler."

:I fail to see what the temperature has to do with it:

"Hardee-har-har," I grumped.

_:Again:_ He turned his back to me and waited.

We were practicing mental shielding. Or at least, _I_ was supposed to be practicing. So far I had failed several hundred times to stop myself from loudly projecting which bowl I had hidden the pebble under. I didn't understand how to make a shield and Fenris didn't know how to explain it. He said it would come to me and suddenly make sense.

Yeah right.

_:I'm waiting:_ he said in my head.

_All right_ , I thought. _Take this you tyrant._ I started to sing in my head. : _You are my sunshine... my only sunshine...:_

I slid the pebble into my pocket, still singing mentally and pushed the three bowls around the table. : _Please don't take my sunshine away!:_ I finished, mentally projecting for all I was worth.

Fenris was cowered on the floor. His shaggy shoulders still rising over the top of the table. He let out a low whine.

"Ready!" I called out.

He turned to face me, yellow eyes glaring. I leaned back and crossed my arms across my chest.

"So, which one?" I prodded.

He kept staring at me.

_:It's under the middle bowl. It's under the middle bowl. It's under the middle bowl:_ I chanted silently.

His nose wavered and he touched the middle bowl. _:Honestly, I'm not sure. The musical bombardment distracted me:_

I flipped over the bowl to reveal nothing.

"Yes!" I yelled, leaping in the air and punching my fist. "Six-hundred-and-eighty-three to one! Ha!"

Was it cheating to hide it in my pocket? I thought not.

_:It's in your pocket:_ Fenris sighed.

I let out a few choice words and kicked the table leg.

_:You're missing the point here:_ he said gently. _:Even your... singing... is only a temporary wall. You are not capable of keeping that up as a shield. You don't need to cloud the water, you need to turn your water opaque:_

"Easy for you to say," I griped. "I have no clue what I'm doing. I know how to think things _stronger_ , but not how to block you out."

_:It is, however, a skill that you must learn:_ Fenris sounded serious.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked him, hoping to distract him from the 'lessons' but also because I was curious.

_:You will not last a day in this realm if you do not learn to shield:_ he answered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that. What I mean is, why do _you_ care if I live or die?"

Fenris rested his huge head on the table. I reached out to scratch him behind the ears.

_:Maybe... :_ he said slowly, _:... maybe because you are lonely. And I understand loneliness:_

I swallowed. "How do you know I'm lonely?" I asked.

He cocked one ear at me.

"Okay. Fine," I agreed. "I'm lonely. This isn't my home. I don't belong here."

He huffed gently.

"I'm glad you're here," I said softly, not meeting his eyes. I didn't want to admit how grateful I was. It was scary being here, so far from home. To be here alone, with no one to talk to would have been unbearable.

_:Back to work:_ my slave-driver ordered.

***

"That hurt!" I yelled angrily, nursing my aching arm. "You almost broke the skin!"

Fenris growled, the hair along his spine standing upright.

_:Again:_ he commanded.

I picked Wilson up from the ground and prepared myself. We were outside the castle gates in the large meadow. My training had progressed from hidden pebbles to a version of hide-n-seek where I had to wear an insanely smelly pouch around my neck and hide in rooms filled with even _more_ smelly pouches so that Fenris couldn't sniff me out. Now I had graduated to getting painfully bit and clawed. Joy.

_:If you telegraph your move before you make it, I will bite you again:_ he reminded me.

I swung to the right, trying to hold my thoughts still. Fenris moved languidly, _before_ I even began, my arm meeting his teeth painfully.

:Again:

I bit my lip, fury rising in my chest. We'd been at this for three weeks now. My days consisted of sleeping, eating, and playing mind games for all the intervening hours. I was frustrated with my lack of success. I felt like the answer was just out of reach, but all my struggle and trying to force it only made the answer move farther away.

_:Nothing is moving away from you:_ Fenris easily read my thoughts. _:You are merely pushing in the wrong direction:_

That did it. Bad enough that he could hear my thoughts, this morning he had even spoken to me while I was in the bathroom! I was done! I needed privacy. I needed to feel safe within my own head! I gripped Wilson tightly, the surge of magic up the hilt matching my own anger.

"Stay out of my head!" I screamed, leaping forward, swinging wildly. I felt something like a blanket smother my brain, leaving me in blessed peace and quiet. I altered my strike at the last moment into a feint and slashed upwards.

This time, Fenris wasn't fast enough, he leaped backwards out of range of my blade and I pressed closer, keeping my movements close and lightening quick. Now that I was alone in my head I could feel the bond between the sword and me. Wilson was directing my movements, but I was part of the dance. I opened up my feelings and let us flow together.

We flitted across the grass, nipping here and there at Fenris, who snarled and blocked, but was clearly on the defensive. He spun around me, trying to knock me over from behind, but I twirled on one foot, catching him a blow to the jaw with my other foot.

He staggered back panting, a trickle of blood running down his muzzle from where his teeth had sliced open his lip.

All the energy drained out of me. "I'm so sorry!" I cried, dropping Wilson and rushing to Fenris' side. "Are you okay?"

He flopped to the ground, belly to the air. _:I surrender!:_ he said playfully.

"I'm really, really sorry," I explained. "I don't know what came over me. Here, let me see your lip."

A long red tongue shot out and licked away the blood. _:It's nothing:_

He rolled over, tail wagging. I ruffled the fur around his neck.

"You're sure you're okay?" I asked.

He head bumped me, getting me to scratch a different spot.

_:You big puppy:_ I thought and waited for the smart-aleck reply.

My eyes grew wide. _:Cats are smarter than dogs:_ I thought, testing. Still no response.

"Fenris!" I suddenly yelped, feeling all alone.

_:What?:_ he sniffed my face. _:What's wrong?:_

"Am I doing it?" I asked, jumping to my feet and pacing. "Am I really doing it? Ask me a question! Quick!"

He cocked his head to one side. _:How old are you?:_

_:Twenty-three:_ I thought, still feeling the blanket covering my brain.

Fenris whined. _:I can't hear you:_ he said surprised.

"I'm doing it!" I cried in wonder. "I'm shielding!"

_:Good:_ Fenris leaped to his feet. _:More practice!:_

I groaned. I was so tired that Wilson felt like he weighed a hundred pounds.

_:He doesn't. And enemies don't wait to attack till you're rested:_ Fenris answered.

I growled. I'd lost the blanketing feeling.

:Attack:

Fenris crouched ready for me and we kept fighting.

***

_:Now that you have learned to shield:_ Fenris told me one bright morning, as I leaned against the parapet, looking out over the meadow and enjoying the warm sunshine, _:you need to learn how to pinpoint your thoughts:_

"Pinpoint?" I asked, seeing more weary lessons in my future. We had practiced shielding for what seemed liked eons. I knew it had only been a couple of months, but I was losing track of the days. Each one was so like the other, and Fenris was the only person, or rather animal, that I talked to.

I still wanted to go home. Some nights I woke up with longing ripping through my chest. I would grasp at the shreds of a dream that faded too fast to remember and cry until I fell back asleep.

The mornings after those dreams Fenris would be unusually gentle with me. He claimed to no longer hear every stray thought that flitted through my brain, but he was astute enough to know when I was upset.

Last night had been especially bad. I'd dreamed of my childhood home. I was tucked into my bed with my mother reading a story by the hallway light. My dad was sitting at her feet, interrupting every once and awhile to explain the history behind each fairy tale. It was one of the last times I remembered feeling completely happy and safe. The next day my dad had left on one of his searches, and shortly after that we had moved in with my Nana.

The dream left me unsettled. I wasn't sure what I was doing here. I knew that the shielding exercises were important. If Fenris was to be believed, sending out strong thoughts could call powerful creatures, who would want to drain my power. I was lucky that I had met a creature who wanted to help.

Even so, I felt like I was hiding. The books in the library might contain the secret of how to return home, but I was no closer to unlocking them. The answer lay outside the castle walls.

_:Pinpoint:_ Fenris said again. _:You need to be able to direct your thoughts to one person, without broadcasting to the world:_

I gave him a look. "We've just spent the last month blocking my thoughts, now you want me to do the opposite?" I might have sounded a tad annoyed.

_:Just to one person:_ Fenris grinned. He leaned his furry shoulder against me, his hot breath visible in the crisp air.

I pressed against him for warmth, running my fingers through his fur.

"All right, sensei," I said with a wry smile. "I can see how it would be useful. But how do we practice that?"

Fenris sniffed deeply as the wind changed, blowing new smells towards us.

_:I have an idea:_ he said in a sly voice. _:but you're not going to like it:_

***

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the library floor.

_:It's necessary:_ Fenris said in my head.

I looked around to make sure he really wasn't in the room. Being stark naked on a stone cold floor was bad enough, having him watch me was unthinkable. Sure, he was a wolf, but he could talk, and I wasn't exposing myself to him.

"If this is your idea of a hazing joke I'm going to _kill_ you," I hissed, inching my rear over a bit to what was hopefully a more comfortable section of stone.

_:This is part of the ceremony:_ he told me. _:Clothing would interfere with the connection:_

I leaned forward and lit the single candle before me. The little flame made the room seem darker, with ominous shadows lurking just out of sight.

"I don't like this," I whined.

:It must be done:

"We could get one of the people from the town," I suggested, not for the first time.

_:We've been over this:_ Fenris sounded annoyed.

He did have a valid point. Anyone from town would be so terrified of winding up as a human sacrifice that they would be useless as a training partner. And we needed a third person. Someone that I could "think" at while blocking Fenris, and vice versa.

"How do you know that they will help?" I whispered, fiddling with the sharp knife in my hand. The next part was really creeping me out.

_:They will:_ Fenris growled. _:They have to:_

His idea, which he had been correct in thinking that I would hate, was to imbue one of the spirits with more of my power so that they could converse with us. Bonificient had given enough power to her servant spirits so that they could manipulate household objects and perform tasks, but communication was beyond them. The hope was that, by offering one some of my blood, we could give it the ability to speak, and therefore help us with the training.

I was also harboring the hope that the spirit would know how to read the books that lined the shelves of this room, and thus enable me to get home. Then I wouldn't need shielding, or pinpointing, or even a magic sword.

For the first time I realized that going home would also mean leaving Fenris behind, but I pushed the thought away. Good friend that he was becoming, he wasn't enough to keep me here. I would miss him, but I missed home more.

_:Would you get on with it?:_ Fenris huffed.

"Hey! It's _my_ rear freezing to the floor!" I shot back, which was partly true. I was beginning to shiver.

_:Spiritus audiunt:_ Fenris prompted.

"I got it," I muttered. Taking a deep breath I reminded myself that I was in charge. I was the big, bad, godmother, and these spirits had to obey me. They weren't going to start piling chairs on top of tables, or throwing knives into the wall. They were my servants, nothing to be afraid of.

Ha.

"Spiritus audiunt!" I said loudly. "Sanguinem meum donum est." Hopefully I'd just told them I was offering my blood as a gift.

"Ornatus dat tibi fortitudinem meam," I said, telling them that my power gave them the ability to speak. Unless I'd said it wrong, in which case I had no clue.

It had taken me an entire day to memorize this much, and Fenris hadn't been entirely sure either. I would have been able to learn it sooner if he hadn't kept changing it on me.

Now came the squeamish part. I gently cut a line down the inside of my arm, allowing the blood to drip down into a shallow silver bowl. Steam rose into the air, tons of steam. It filled the air until I was sitting in the midst of a fog.

"This is really creepy," I muttered to Fenris.

_:Focus:_ he told me. _:Can you see the spirits yet?:_

I looked around. All I could see was slowly shifting steam. My heart was now pounding a mile a minute. I just knew that something was going to pop out of the steam and kill me.

_:They can't kill you, you're the godmother:_ Fenris reminded me.

"I hope that's true," I breathed, noticing the steam begin to take shapes. It looked like a face watching me, and then I was surrounded.

"Argh!" I screamed.

_:What? What?:_ Fenris sounded frantic. _:I'm on my way!:_

"No!" I gulped. "No! It's okay. The spirits are here."

:Oh. I thought you were in danger:

"No," I said sarcastically. "I'm just surrounded by a bunch a dead spirits that my predecessor murdered. No danger here."

I slowly moved so that I could look around. The air was filled with faces. Young, old, male, female, there were a lot of them.

I tried a little finger wave. "Hi!" I said brightly. "You're probably wondering why I called you here..."

The faces looked blank and tired, like the strain of appearing to my eyesight was taking all their energy.

"I need someone who can talk," I explained quickly. "I'm not the godmother. I killed her, and got her necklace thingy, but I'm not her."

It might have been my imagination, but I thought the faces looked a little more friendly.

"I'm trying to learn mental shielding," I said. "So I need someone to practice with. Would one of you like to help?"

One of the faces drifted closer. He was a young man, in his teens, with strong cheekbones, and totally white eyes.

"We live to obey," he intoned without emotion. "We must obey."

"No," I said. "No, you don't really have to obey. I'm _asking_ not ordering. Do any of you _want_ to help me?"

Fenris and I had argued about this. His take had been that I was in charge and should just command one of them to obey. My American sensibilities had been offended at this, and I'd insisted that I would only ask, not order. Since I was the one actually performing the ceremony, I'd won.

The faces kept their blank stares, but I could feel communication going on at a level that I couldn't understand. Finally they seemed to come to an agreement.

"I will help," the young man said.

"Great!" I said with forced cheer. Carefully lifting the silver bowl, I held it out to him, keeping one arm across my chest in a semblance of modesty. "I think you have to drink this."

He drifted forward, his shape seeming to solidify even while the other faces faded from sight. A blast of frigid air blew back my hair as he touched the bowl and slowly lifted it to his lips.

"I really hope that you don't try to kill me," I muttered under my breath. Giving a vengeful spirit a more corporeal body seemed rather iffy to me. Fenris had sworn that the spell would only allow the spirit to talk, but then he also hadn't been entirely sure of the words, so I was taking it all with a heavy dose of paranoid salt.

The spirit drained the bowl as all the steam in the air seemed to be sucked into him. When he finished he stood there, looking almost solid, although I could make out the outline of the bookshelves behind him.

"Well," I said, standing to my feet and grabbing up the blanket I had set aside. "Thanks for agreeing to help."

I wrapped the blanket around myself and waited for the spirit to say something. He stood there, unmoving, unblinking, and emotionless.

"Hey!" I waved. "You in there! Can you hear me? Did it work? Can you talk?"

"I can speak," he said.

"Okay then," I breathed out through my nose. "I'm going to go put some clothes on, and then I guess we can get to work."

The spirit did not respond, but watched me leave with blank eyes.

# Chapter Eleven

"He's watching us again," I whispered to Fenris.

_:No, he's not:_ Fenris didn't even lift his heavy head. He was trying to take a mid-afternoon snooze in the castle's courtyard.

"Yes, he is," I insisted. "Every time I turn around, he's standing there staring at me!"

Fenris yawned. _:He's just waiting for you to give him an order:_

"It's creepy," I huffed, scuffing my boot toes on the ground. "I didn't know giving him speech meant that he would _always_ be around."

_:All of the spirits are always around:_ Fenris reminded me.

I looked around the courtyard and shivered. "Ewww."

_:You don't complain when your clothes are clean and your dinner hot:_ Fenris still hadn't opened his eyes.

"Yeah," I said uncomfortably, "but it's still creepy."

The ghost of the young man stood motionless in the shadow of the wall.

"Hey, you!" I called to him. "How are you doing?"

He didn't have to turn his pure white eyes towards me, he was already looking right at me.

"I am doing nothing," he said flatly. "What do you wish for me to do?"

"No," I laughed nervously. "I'm just checking to see if... you know... you're happy."

He didn't respond.

_:You didn't ask a direct question:_ Fenris said, reaching up with a hind paw to scratch his ear.

"What's your name?" I asked the ghost, venturing closer.

Fenris wanted us to wait until later in the day to start practicing pinpoint mental communication. He said it was because the spirit would be stronger in the twilight, but I suspicioned that it had more to do with the fact that Fenris had gone hunting the night before and was sleepy.

The ghost turned his head to follow my movement. "I have no name," he said. "I only exist to serve."

"What is it with you people and _names_?" I asked the uncaring sky.

_:Just name him and let me get a nap:_ Fenris whined.

"Steve," I said quickly. "His name is Steve. It's a good name." I snickered. "Steve the ghost. You can't be scared of a ghost named Steve."

_:I wasn't aware that we were afraid of him:_ Fenris said dryly.

"We're not," I agreed. "Steve. Supernatural Steve. Steve the Ghost. Spirit Steve. Steve the—"

_:Shut. Up:_ Fenris growled.

"Okay," I said offended.

I waved a hand in front of Steve's face. He didn't move.

"Your name is Steve," I told him. "What do you think?"

His head tilted to one side. "You have given me a name?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "You like it?"

A spark of color flashed across his white eyes. I took a step backwards.

"I thank you for my name," he said.

"Good," I said nervously. "That's good. Umm... okay then... well, why don't you take a little break until we call you for practice?"

"You wish me to depart?" Steve asked.

"If you want to," I said, hoping that he did. "You can go do your own thing for a while. Have some fun."

"Fun."

"Or, you know, whatever." I shrugged.

"I will return," Steve told me. He slowly faded from view.

"Phew!" I said, " _Awk-_ ward!"

_:Why must you name everything?:_ Fenris asked, finally giving up on his nap.

I shrugged again. "I don't know. It's just what we do. Where I come from we name everything."

:Everything?:

I thought about some of the odder things that people named. Cars. Houses. Private body parts. " _Everything_ ," I stressed.

_:No wonder you have no magic:_ Fenris sounded disgusted.

I stretched out beside him on the sun-warmed stone, pillowing my head on his side.

"We make do," I yawned.

Fenris rolled over a bit and I scratched behind his ears.

"I still think Steve is creepy," I muttered softly as I drifted off to sleep.

We must have napped for several hours. The sun was setting and a chill was in the air. I shivered and sat up, stretching the kinks out of my shoulders and arms. Fenris snored gently, his body radiating heat like a stove.

"Time to get up," I poked him with my toe.

He opened one yellow eye and glanced around. His tail flapped twice on the ground.

"Time for mind games," I poked him again.

_:Are you ready?:_ he asked me.

I made a face. "No. But I see your point, so I'll try."

:Shall we go inside?:

Night was falling fast. Strange animal noises sounded in the forest, animals that only came out in the dark. When the sun was up, the world belonged to people. When it set, well, those people suddenly felt a whole lot safer indoors with blazing lights.

"Let's go inside," I agreed.

We set up in the kitchen. I poked the fire until it was roaring, and the friendly snap and crackle and dancing lights made the room feel homey.

_:Call... Steve:_ Fenris said, lifting the corner of his lip.

"If you don't like the name, _you_ should have given him one," I said with a sniff.

:Call him:

"Uh, Steve?" I called to the empty room. "Steve! We're ready to start! Are you there?"

A cold feeling brushed my shoulder and I whirled to see Steve materializing right behind me.

"Hi!" I said with forced cheer. "Good to see you again!"

Steve stood there, looking slightly more solid than before, but it could have just been a trick of the firelight.

_:Shall we begin?:_ Fenris asked, pacing the room. _:I want you to carry on a mental conversation with Steve while blocking me from your thoughts:_

I swallowed. Letting a ghost into my head was... creepy. I was using that word a lot. But it fit.

_:Can you hear me, Steve?:_ I thought, trying to focus on Steve while blanketing the rest of my mind.

_:Yes:_ he said.

"Great!" I said aloud.

_:I could hear you as well:_ Fenris deflated me.

"Oh."

:Try again:

"I thought for a moment this would be easy," I muttered under my breath.

_:I can still hear you:_ Fenris said snidely.

I hopped up to the top of the table and sat cross-legged. There was nobody there to tell me that was rude or to keep my feet off the table. Plus, it felt safer being way off the ground when there was a ghost around.

Closing my eyes, I focused hard. My months of practice had taught me to corral my thoughts. I kept them hidden in my brain and no longer had stray thoughts shooting out for Fenris to hear.

_:Can you hear me now?:_ I thought in my brain, looking at Fenris with a raised eyebrow.

He gave me a doggy grin. _:Blissfully quiet:_ he told me.

Okay. Now I just had to open up a line to Steve. Or perhaps I just needed to include Steve inside my mind circle.

I stared at Steve. He was still see-through, but pale colors seemed to wash over him occasionally. His eyes were milky white, and it freaked me out that I couldn't really tell where he was looking. Maybe I should get him some sunglasses.

_:Steve:_ I thought in his direction. _:Can you hear me?:_

_:I can hear you:_ he replied mentally.

Fenris cocked his ears. _:I hear whisperings:_ he said. _:But I can't understand the words:_

I drew in a breath. We were on the right track here.

_:Try to have a conversation:_ Fenris suggested. _:You need to be able to focus without thinking about it:_

I stuck out my tongue at him, but settled down to try harder.

_:How did you get here?:_ I voiced the question I had been dying to ask.

_:The godmother needed my heart_ : he said.

I cringed. _:How long have you been here?:_

His head turned towards the window, seeming to stare out at the dark night. _:I do not know:_ he said finally. _:_ _I stopped counting after the first century:_

_:What!:_ I was appalled.

_:Careful:_ Fenris warned. _:I could almost hear your thoughts:_

I carefully stuffed my thoughts back together. _:You've been the Godmother's servant for over a hundred years?:_

_:Yes_ _:_

I couldn't imagine being _alive_ for a hundred years. Much less being an invisible servant. Trapped forever. It sounded horrible. Suddenly the memory of Bonificient eating my father's heart flashed before my mind.

_:Is my father here?:_ I asked, wide-eyed with fear. Could he have been trapped into her service? Was he watching me now, invisible, unable to communicate with me?

_:No:_ Steve replied.

_:How do you know?:_ I pleaded, not sure what I was hoping for. _:She ate his heart!:_

Steve turned his white gaze back on me. _:_ _I know because you killed her. We all felt the bonds shift. No new servants have appeared:_

_:So, he's gone?:_ I swallowed back emotion. I knew he was gone. I'd just hoped, for a second, that maybe I could have talked to him again and set things right between us.

_:He is at peace:_ Steve answered.

Fenris was growing bored. He was stretched out on his side, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Fenris," I said aloud, making him raise his large head. "I think you need to hear this."

_:What's up?:_ he asked. _:I haven't been able to hear anything. I think you're picking this up a lot faster than the initial shielding:_

"Steve's been telling me a little about being a ghost," I filled him in. "He's been trapped here for over a hundred years. I asked him if my dad was also trapped, but he said no, that my dad was at peace."

Fenris gave me a blank yellow look. I shook my head. He didn't get it.

"Steve," I asked, "are _you_ at peace?"

Steve seemed to fade a bit from sight. He didn't answer.

"Steve," I insisted. "Are you happy?"

No, he said.

"See?" I asked Fenris.

He hunched his shaggy shoulders and flopped his tail once against the ground. _:So?:_

"I have to release them," I exclaimed, jumping off the table and pacing. "All these servants... _slaves,_ they've been trapped here by the Godmother, and now that I have her power I need to set them free."

_:No more steak?:_ Fenris asked sadly.

I flopped down next to him on the floor and threw my arms around his neck. "Not at that price," I said, giving him a good scratch. "Besides, I'm going to find a way home. I've got to let them go before I leave."

"Steve," I turned to him, "Do you know how I can release you?" I jumped back to my feet, hit again with the idea I had momentarily forgotten. "Steve!" I yelled. "Can you read the books in the library?"

Time seemed to freeze while I awaited his answer. I couldn't believe I hadn't asked that question first! If he'd been here for more than a century then surely he had learned some of the Godmother's secrets! Maybe he could tell me how to get home!

"Yes and no," was the answer.

I wanted to shake him. "What does that mean?"

"I cannot read the books," he said.

My hope sank. "But, you can tell me what to do to set you free?"

"Yes."

"But not how to send me home?" I fought back the tears that were tickling the back of my nose.

"No."

"If I could read the books would I know how to get home?" I asked forlornly.

Fenris stood to his feet and pressed himself into my side. I buried my fingers in his fur, enjoying the warmth and unspoken comfort.

"Perhaps," Steve answered.

I blinked away my tears and cleared my throat. I wasn't giving up and I had other important issues to deal with first.

"Do you want to be free?" I asked the spirit.

For a moment his whole body was infused with color. Yes, he said with the first hint of emotion I had ever detected in his speech.

"Okay, then," I grinned fiercely. "Let's do it!"

# Chapter Twelve

"Snakes!" I cried dramatically. "Why did it have to be snakes?"

Fenris cocked an ear at me. _:It's not snakes:_ he said puzzled.

"Never mind," I waved him away. "It's the principal of the thing."

_:I'm not following you:_ he looked over at me with worried yellow eyes.

"It's from a movie," I explained. "The hero hated snakes and so when he got in a dangerous situation with snakes, he said, 'Why did it have to be snakes?'"

_:And what was the answer?:_ Fenris wanted to know.

I rolled my eyes. "There wasn't an answer. It was just ironic."

:I'm still not following you:

I stuck out my tongue at him. "You have no sense of culture," I said loftily.

_:I'm really lost here:_ he said, rubbing his head up against me so that I could scratch under his chin. _:Are there snakes around somewhere that I'm missing?:_

I laughed. "No, silly. I'm talking about blood. I _hate_ stuff that has to do with blood. So I was just saying that it sucked that it had to be blood."

_:So... no snakes?:_ Fenris was stuck on the idea.

"No. No snakes," I said with a straight face.

_:I'm never going to understand her:_ he muttered quietly to himself.

"You know I can still hear you no matter how quietly you talk," I pointed out. "Maybe _you_ need to work on your shielding.

He stared at me, unblinking, obviously thinking hard. I couldn't hear anything.

"Fine," I threw up my hands. "You made your point."

He hunched his shoulders, the hair rising along the ridge, yellow eyes gleaming, and slowly flicked his tongue around his lips.

I smacked him. "Cut it out!"

His jaw hung open and he laughed silently at me.

"You think you're soo funny," I grumped.

Steve appeared before me, fading quickly into shape. I let out a yelp and jumped back a few feet. I'd been waiting for him, but I still was caught by surprise.

"There you are!" I said brightly, covering my alarm.

"We are ready," he said in a sepulchral voice.

"Great!" I said, rubbing my hands together. "Let's do this thing!"

Fenris padded beside me as we followed Steve through the castle. After promising to free him and the other spirits, he'd told me that a blood spell was needed. Hence my remarks about blood. He'd then disappeared for an entire day, leaving me to sweat and worry, while he discussed things with his fellow spirits.

"So," I asked with a little concern, "what exactly is involved here?"

"You must utter the words of the spell while walking around the outside of the castle, sprinkling your blood on the ground," was the less than cheery response.

"How much blood?" I wanted to know. It wasn't a huge castle, but it still sounded like a lot of blood.

"Drops will suffice."

"Then what happens?" I wanted to be prepared.

He turned his blank eyes towards me in vague surprise. "Then the castle will be destroyed," he said as if it was obvious.

" _What?_ " I screamed, stopping so quickly that Fenris bumped into me. "Destroyed? As in, completely? Or are we just talking magically here?"

"The wards that hold us here are built into the walls and furnishings of the castle, Steve said. The physical castle must be destroyed for us to be released."

I gulped. "I... I wasn't expecting that," I said slowly. "I thought I could just... you know... let you go..."

"This is the only way," Steve replied.

"What about the library?" I asked with a frown. "Can I remove the books from the library first?"

Those books were still my best shot at getting home. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of crumbling my only home down around my ears, but I supposed that it was still the right thing to do. I just didn't want to throw away my lifeline as well.

"The books must be destroyed as well," Steve said.

"Why?" I asked stubbornly. "Why can't I save them? I _need_ those books."

He stopped floating forwards. We had reached the main foyer and were now standing before the huge rounded staircase.

"I will inform the others," he said.

"Inform them about what?" I asked sharply.

"That you do not desire to free us," he answered.

"I _do_ want to let you go!" I protested. "Fenris! Help me out here! Explain it to him! I can't just destroy the whole library! I mean, really! It's bad enough that I'm not going to have a place to live! Where would we go? What are we going to do?"

Fenris wagged his tail once, thinking. _:Is this really the only way?:_ he asked the spirit.

"Yes."

_:Then you understand why the Godmother will not be able to free you:_ he said calmly.

"Whoa!" I yelped. "I didn't say _that_! I want to free them! I just... need an alternative plan here."

"There is no other way," Steve repeated.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. A massive headache was growing behind my eyes and I wanted to throw a temper-tantrum and howl like a baby.

"I've got to think," I said finally, marching towards the front door.

_:Morgan?:_ Fenris called after me.

"Alone," I added. "I'll be back for dinner."

Neither Steve nor Fenris tried to stop me as I stalked out the castle gates and across the meadow. We'd spent quite a bit of time outside the castle, practicing sword fighting and shielding, but it had been months since I had entered the woods.

The cool dark of the trees was soothing to my troubled eyes and I wandered aimlessly, crossing streams, climbing over fallen logs, and swinging sticks at tree trunks. My stomach was beginning to rumble when the scent of wood smoke tickled my nose.

I changed direction and soon broke out of the dim woods into the bright sunlight shining down on the fields around the town.

"Godmother!"

I heard a voice behind me, calling from the woods. I turned to see Isolde picking her way through the brush, carrying a basket over one arm, filled with plants, while she gripped Ann's hand tightly with her other hand.

"Isolde!" I greeted her cheerfully. It had been ages since I had talked to anyone other than a wolf or a ghost.

She ducked her chin respectfully. "What brings you here, my lady?"

I shrugged. "I was out walking," I explained. "I just found myself nearby."

She smiled shyly while Ann hid behind her skirts. "Would my lady care to join us for a meal?"

I grinned. "Sure!"

Her face lit up like I had bestowed a great honor on her. I followed her through the field, making faces at Ann in an effort to get her to smile. By the time we reached the town streets I had won a small laugh.

She led me down an unfamiliar street and into a small room that served as kitchen, sleeping quarters, and living room. I stood in the middle and stretched out my arms. I could almost touch the walls on both sides.

"My lady looks unhappy?" Isolde asked gently.

I bit my lip, feeling guilty for worrying about losing my _castle_ when there were people living in dirt floored closets.

"It's nothing," I said with a fake smile.

Her face shuttered and I realized that I had effectively put her in her place.

"I've got a problem," I said, not wanting her to be offended.

"Yes?" she began to spoon a fragrant stew into wooden bowls, breaking off a chuck of dark bread for each bowl.

"I might have a way to get home," I said sadly. "Remember the library?"

She nodded, still preparing the lunch.

"I still think the answer is there..." I trailed off.

"You have been unable to read the spell books?" she guessed.

Ann attempted to grab her bowl from her mother's hands and got smacked for it. She motioned for me to sit first at the small table, and then laid out the bowls in front of us. The food was delicious and we were quiet for a bit, happily eating.

"There're these _spirits_ ," I said finally.

Isolde nodded. "The Godmother's servants. The brother of my mother serves the Godmother." She looked embarrassed. "Forgive me, my lady. He serves _you_."

I was shocked. "He's dead?"

She nodded again. "How else could he serve?" she asked. "Every five years someone in town must volunteer."

"Volunteer?" I gasped.

She looked puzzled. "Of course! Otherwise the Godmother would choose. It was most gracious of her to let us decide for ourselves who would die."

I rubbed my nose.

"Have I said something wrong?" Isolde asked terrified. "I meant no disrespect!"

"Isolde," I said carefully. "What if I told you I could release the spirits?"

"Release them?" Her eyes were wide.

I made a wry face and nodded.

Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, my lady!" she breathed out with emotion.

Before I could say anything else the door burst open.

"Isolde!" Agnes cried. "You were late..." she stopped, suddenly recognizing me. She fell to the ground in obeisance.

"Agnes," I scolded her, "Get off the ground."

"I beg your forgiveness, my lady!" she gasped. "I did not know whom Isolde was serving."

The term made me think of the ghostly slaves back at the castle who had no choice about their servitude.

Isolde stood up and offered a seat to Agnes. "I was to meet with Agnes to help prepare for her travel to the Ball," she explained.

"The ball?" I wouldn't have thought that anywhere this rustic would have such a fashionable sounding event.

"The princess' ball!" Agnes said with shining eyes, proving that fancy dresses and dancing were universally enjoyed.

"Every year the princess holds a ball to celebrate the one at which she and the prince first met." Isolde said calmly. "Each town is invited to send one unmarried young woman. Agnes won the lottery this year." She smiled fondly at the excited woman.

"Our good princess was a commoner," Agnes said, hands clasped in a romantic sigh. "The Godmother dressed her in beautiful clothes with glass slippers and she danced all night with the prince!"

I jerked in surprise. I vaguely remembered Agnes telling me the name of their princess, but it had been so long ago I had all but forgotten.

"Cinderella?" I guessed with a half mocking smile.

"You know our princess?" Agnes breathed.

Suddenly her earlier words smacked me in the face.

"The _Godmother?_ " I asked in horror.

"Yes," Isolde looked at me strangely.

"The one I... killed?" I whispered.

The two other women nodded, studying their hands, the floor, the walls, anywhere but looking at me.

"I killed Cinderella's _godmother_?" I shrieked.

"Surely you knew?" Isolde asked, finally meeting my eyes.

I buried my head in my arms. "I killed Cinderella's Fairy Godmother," I wailed.

Isolde laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You need not worry so," she said softly. "She was not well-loved here."

I sat up straight. "That's right!" I said fiercely. "She was horrid! She deserved to die!" I shook my head in bewilderment. "How could Cinderella have an evil godmother?"

Agnes shrugged, eager to get back to the more important details of the Ball. "We do not believe the princess knows how the Godmother strengthens her magic. We have sent messengers to the capital before, but..." she gave an anxious glance to Ann who was still hungrily eating and ignoring the adult conversation taking place over her head. "... they never return," she whispered.

"We think that the Godmother stops them," Isolde said gently. She leaned over and tapped Ann. "Perhaps you would care to go play with your friends?" she suggested.

Ann hopped up and was out the door without even a farewell. Isolde looked after her with a fond look.

"Children," she smiled, "They grow so quickly."

I laughed at the common sentiment. Then I remembered what we had been talking about. Why was I taking this so seriously? Cinderella was a fairy tale. This princess might have the same name, but it couldn't possibly be the same one. I did feel bad that I'd killed her fairy godmother. Or rather, that she had been hoodwinked by an evil fairy. Perhaps when I killed the Godmother I had freed Cinderella as well.

"Godmother!" Isolde said suddenly, surprising me. I looked around before realizing that she was speaking to me. "You could travel to the capital with Agnes!" She sounded thrilled.

I frowned. That didn't sound like such a hot idea to me. _Hey! I just killed your godmother and now I'm crashing your party! Nice to meet you!_

She jumped to her feet and began to pace. "Our good princess is kind and loves to help her people! She also is very powerful! It may be that she could help you in your quest to return home!"

I blinked. Now _that_ sounded like a good idea.

"You could explain to princess Cinderella how you came to defeat Bonificient and Agnes could give witness to the plight that our town suffered under until your arrival!"

Agnes clapped her hands merrily. "It would give me great pleasure to have your company on the road!"

"You're sure she won't be mad?" I asked cautiously, rolling the idea around in my brain. If I freed the ghosts, which I had every intention of doing, regardless of the consequences, I would no longer have a place to live or a way to get home. If I traveled to the capital city and spoke with Cinderella and she had the power or knowledge to send me home... !

"She is goodness and light," Isolde said reverently. "I am sure that she will be saddened at the abuses that have occurred and rejoice with us over your arrival."

"I'll do it!" I cried, jumping to my feet.

Agnes clapped her hands. "You will need a court dress, and shoes, and _jewelry._ " The last was said in rapture.

I thought of the wardrobes bursting with ridiculously fancy dresses. Taking them with me hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Do... you have something to wear to the ball?" I asked gently, not wanting to sound condescending.

She smiled. "I have the dress our town prepared. It is only seven years old!" she said proudly.

"Every maiden wears the town's dress," Isolde explained. "If the maiden is chosen to stay in the capital city as a lady-in-waiting, the dress does not return to the town, otherwise, it is worn the next year."

Agnes clasped her hands together. "Perhaps I shall be chosen this year!" she sang.

Isolde nodded. "It would be a great honor."

I grinned. The excitement was infectious. It didn't matter where you came from, girls loved to dress up and party.

"The Godmother had a ton of frou-frou clothes," I said, scratching my neck where the torque rubbed. "Maybe some of them would fit you," I offered.

Isolde and Agnes both turned wide eyes to me.

"Or not!" I said hurriedly. "I just thought... you know... it's a shame for them to go to waste..." I couldn't tell if they were intrigued or offended.

"You would share your clothes with me?" Agnes said in hushed tones.

"Yeah. Why not?" I made a face. " _I_ can't wear them all." Nor did I want to. The huge skirts and tight bodices looked too confining. I was much happier in my supple leather and sword harness.

Agnes gave Isolde a pleading look. She smiled. "I believe that would be acceptable," she told the young woman.

Agnes squealed in joy.

I almost offered to walk her back to the castle, but remembered why I had left in the first place.

"There's some stuff I need to do first," I said gently. "But I'll bundle up all the clothes and jewelry—"

"And shoes?" Agnes asked hopefully.

"And shoes," I laughed, "and bring them back to town for you to try. When do we leave?"

"In two days time," was the answer.

I flinched. I was ready to free the spirits; I'd just hoped to have a little more time to work up the nerve. It seemed like I was severing the only link between me and home.

"Is that satisfactory?" Isolde asked, noticing my somber look.

"Yeah," I forced a smile. "I just need to do that other thing we talked about."

Isolde gripped my hand. "Releasing...?" she asked.

I nodded.

Her eyes filled with tears again. "Your heart is good, my lady," she said with a quiver. "It was a happy day that brought you to our town. We are honored to be your servants and, should our good princess be unable to help you, we will look forward to your return with great joy."

I squeezed her hand back but didn't have the heart to tell her that even if Cinderella couldn't send me home, after freeing the spirits, I would have nothing to return to.

# Chapter Thirteen

"Fenris!" I yelled, marching through the gates. "Steve! I'm back!"

A low snarl was the only warning I received before being knocked to the ground by a trillion tons of wolf and subjected to a fierce face licking.

"Stop it!" I howled. "Stop! That's disgusting! I've got dog germs in my mouth! Quick! I need some hand sanitizer!"

_:I keep telling you that we don't have germs here:_ Fenris said, letting me up but keeping his shoulder pressed into my side.

"You don't even know what a germ is," I said, patting his head.

He grew quickly serious. _:I was worried about you:_

I took his jaw in both my hands, his teeth poking my palms. "You needn't be," I told him, touching noses. "I'm good."

He quickly stuck out his tongue, licking my face.

"Eww!" I cried, pushing him away.

He licked his own nose a couple of times and then poked my arm with its cold moistness.

_:You have decided to release the spirits:_ he said as a fact.

"How did you know?"

He scratched his side. _:You're becoming predictable:_ he offered.

I brushed past him and entered the castle. "Predictable! Ha!"

_:Then you're_ not _going to release the spirits?:_ he padded quietly up the stairs behind me.

I laughed. "Admit it! You're just fishing! You've got no clue what I'm going to do!"

He flopped down on the landing and lay with his nose between his front paws. _:Okay. I don't know. What are you going to do?:_

"Take back the predictable comment," I ordered sternly.

He whined. _:You are highly unpredictable, volatile, and erratic:_ Fenris sounded smug.

"Thank—whoa!" I frowned at him. "That's not funny."

He licked a paw nonchalantly.

I sat on the step below him, hugging my knees. I wanted to keep joking around, but the time had come for some serious action.

"We're going to let the ghosts free," I said, a twinge of anxiety shooting through my chest.

_:Even though it means destroying the library and the castle?:_ Fenris asked, just as serious.

"Yes."

He lay his head on my knee, threatening to cut off circulation to my feet, but I welcomed the touch.

"Here's the unpredictable part though," I told him as he rolled his eyes upward to look at me. "We're going on a trip."

_:Where to?:_ His ears perked forward in interest.

I swallowed. I'd said "we," but I really hadn't been sure until this moment that Fenris planned to stick with me. A tear rolled down my cheek and I sniffed loudly.

"You'll come with me?" I asked softly, needing to hear his confirmation.

He opened his jaw and nipped my leg gently.

"Stop it!" I yelled for the principle of the thing, but I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed tightly.

_:Can't breathe!:_ he yelped in my head.

Letting go, I quickly wiped my face dry and tried to look like I was calm and unemotional. "The capital city." I quickly explained about Cinderella and the ball and how the princess might be able to help me get home.

Fenris sat up and studied me with yellow eyes. _:What's the catch?:_ he asked.

I leaned against his shoulder. "I killed her fairy godmother," I whispered.

:Oh:

"Yeah."

We sat there looking down the stairs in silence.

"But," I said cheerfully, rising to my feet, "if she's as good as everyone says, then she must not have known that her godmother was evil. I did her a favor."

_:So she owes you one:_ Fenris said dryly. _:Let's hope she sees it that way:_

I shook my head to clear it of worry. "It doesn't matter. It's my best bet right now. I have to free the spirits. I still want to get home. I've got to try."

_:Something else is bothering you:_ Fenris guessed, following me into my bedroom.

I went to the wardrobes and started pulling all the clothing out and piling it on the bed. Then I dumped all the jewelry into a bag and started throwing shoes onto the bed as well.

"It's just..." I tried to put my unease into words. "... it's just... it's silly."

:Tell me:

"Where I come from," I began, "we have a story about Cinderella."

_:Really?:_ Fenris looked interested.

"Yeah. Her evil stepmother makes her work as a servant and won't let her go to the ball, and then her fairy godmother shows up, gives her a fancy dress with glass slippers, sends her to the ball where she dances with the prince all night and then has to be home by midnight before the magic disappears."

I tried to bundle the mountain of clothes together.

"She runs away from the ball, leaving one glass shoe behind and the next day the prince goes door to door trying the shoe on everyone's foot saying that he will marry the girl whose foot fits the shoe."

_:Everyone has different sized feet in your world?:_ Fenris asked.

"No," I laughed. "But that's how the story goes. The shoe fits Cinderella, the prince marries her, and they live happily ever after."

_:That's it?:_ Fenris asked, puzzled.

"Well, there's her ugly stepsisters, and talking mice, and singing, and stuff like that, but yeah, that's the story."

:Why does this worry you?:

"Because," I sat down on the edge of the bed, "It's _weird_ that's why. It's a fairy tale. There shouldn't really be a Cinderella. Or a fairy godmother. Or magic. Or anything like that!"

_:But this is not your world:_ Fenris suggested. _:Things are different here:_

"I know," I said slowly. "I'm okay with different. It's just that it's too... familiar. Something seems wrong."

Fenris nudged me with his nose. _:Then we shall have to be on the alert:_

I shrugged. That was probably all we _could_ do.

"Deal," I said. "Now, I believe we have some spirits to set free."

***

"This is a stupid, idiotic world," I muttered fiercely, stepping on yet another sharp rock and letting loose a few choice words. "Who came up with this magic? It's ridiculous!"

I paused five yards past my last stop and gently cut my arm again to shake the blood drops on the ground.

"Sanguis meus liberat servita," I mumbled, for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

_:How's it going?:_ Fenris asked from his watching spot across the meadow.

"How do you _think_ it's going?" I growled aloud. Letting all my frustration and annoyance carry through our mental link.

_:I don't know:_ he responded with annoying rationality. _:I can't see you from here:_

"You better not be able to see me," I snarled, shivering. "This sky-clad thing is getting old," I complained.

_:You're supposed to be naked:_ Fenris said in surprise.

"I am," I snapped.

:You said you were wearing the sky:

I made a frustrated face. "It's just an expression. It means naked."

I glanced around. The night was half way over, the quarter moon casting dark shadows that made walking around the castle walls more treacherous than complete darkness would have been.

I gripped Wilson tightly, wishing I had my comfortable leather clothing to hide behind. Traipsing about unclothed made me feel very vulnerable. I had almost completely circled the castle walls and was coming back around to the front gate. Soon, it would all be over.

This had better work. My arm looked like a junkie's tic-tac-toe board, my rear was freezing, my feet were bruised and, so help me, if any of the ghosts were watching me while I did this I would renege on the whole deal.

I reached the castle gates and quickly pulled on the pants and shirt I had left there for myself. My toes were still cold, but I didn't want to mess around with boots and socks until I had finished this.

"Obsequium vestrum est. Me liberabit vos," I chanted facing north. I turned to the south and repeated the words. "Obsequium vestrum est. Me liberabit vos." Then again to the east and west.

_:What's happening?:_ Fenris asked eagerly. It was killing him to be left out of all the "fun."

"I'm exsanguinating," I grumbled.

_:I meant with the spirits:_ Fenris answered, ignoring my crappy attitude.

"Nothing," I said, looking around. Moments before I had been ready to kill any ghost that was peeping, but now I wondered where they had all gotten off too.

No sooner had I turned then I saw the ghosts collecting on the steps of the castle. They kept fading into view, more and more of them, until the entire courtyard was filled. There were hundreds.

One drifted slowly forward, resolving into the now familiar face of Steve.

"We thank you, my lady," he said flatly. "I am in your debt."

"Yeah, well, you know," I said awkwardly. "Anything I could do to help."

"Move away from the castle," he said.

"Right," I said, "Umm... nice to meet you and I hope you have a nice afterlife... or, whatever."

He floated back to the other ghosts, the multiple blank eyes freaking me out. I lost no time moving away from the castle. When I thought I was a safe distance I completed the spell.

"Vincula dissolvat," I cried loudly. Steve had assured me that vocalizing the spell was not important, I just needed to think it. He clearly didn't understand style and stage presence. To truly complete a spell one needed to be wearing a flowing robe embroidered with arcane symbols while holding one's arms in the air and bellowing the words in round Shakespearean tones.

So, yeah. I didn't have the robe, but I could bellow like nobody's business. All that was missing was a crash of lightning as I finished the last syllable.

I knew that the castle would be destroyed. I just didn't think about how it would happen. If I had, I would have moved back another quarter mile or so before uttering the spell.

The whole thing went up in a whoosh like a mini-atomic bomb. I felt the air being sucked toward the void as the castle walls vaporized and flew upwards in a mushroom cloud. Then the shock wave hit me and blew me tumbling back to land in the stream.

I was just ready to scream at the shock of the cold water when a rock the size of a Volkswagen Beetle crashed inches from my head. I scrambled out of the water, running for safety as other smaller rocks crashed around and on me. Luckily the ones making contact were all golf ball size or smaller, but at the moment I wasn't appreciating being hit by anything at all.

I was clutching Wilson in front of me trying to escape when I saw a dark form dashing across the meadow towards me. I didn't have enough breath to speak and all the months of mental practice paid off.

_:Stay back, you idiot!:_ I yelled in my head.

_:Run!:_ Fenris sounded panicked. He must not have been expecting Hiroshima either.

_:I am running:_ I screamed mentally, trying to hold my arm over my head to ward off the blows.

One rock caught me on the temple, stunning me to the ground. I shook it off and kept going, a curtain of red blood flowing down my face. In seconds I was clear of the blast and collapsed gasping for breath at Fenris' feet.

He whined anxiously and nosed me. _:Morgan? Are you okay?:_

I rolled over on my back, staring up at the starry night.

_:Morgan?:_ he whined again.

I wiped the blood from my face, still flat out on my back.

"Fenris," I said flatly. "That was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. Don't ever let me do something like that again."

I felt his body relax. _:You mean, don't let you destroy another castle that you own in order to free the hundreds of spirit slaves trapped inside?:_

"Yeah," I said.

_:If that ever comes up again, I'll stop you:_ he said with a smirk.

I sat up painfully. Trying to see back across the meadow. All that was visible in the dark was a grey cloud of dust.

"Do you think they're free?" I wondered aloud.

Fenris yawned. _:The evidence seems to point towards the spell working:_ he said dryly.

"Yeah," I said darkly. "You would've thought that Steve might have mentioned _how_ destroyed the castle would be."

:Now what?:

I pulled myself up his leg and leaned heavily on his shaggy shoulders.

"Now we gather up all our stuff, meet up with Agnes, and head for the capital."

Looking at the hole in the sky where I should have seen the silhouette of my castle I felt a twinge of worry. Talk about burning your bridges behind you! I just hoped I'd done the right thing.

# Chapter Fourteen

Leaving Fenris with our belongings, I made the hike to town and talked the mayor into selling us their one and only horse. I didn't know if it was fear of my anger, or avarice at the golden goblet I was offering in trade that finally convinced him, but I was grateful.

Collecting Agnes, I headed back to the former location of my castle, Agnes skipping along the path in front, humming and bubbling over with joy. She was on her way to the ball and life was a thrilling adventure.

As we approached the meadow, I tried to break things to her gently.

"Umm, Agnes?" I called ahead, stopping to let the horse graze a bit.

"Yes, my lady?" she asked, coming quickly back to my side.

"I just wanted to, umm, _warn_ you..." I tried to think of a tactful way to say it.

"Warn me of what, my lady?" she asked.

"Well, it's not just you and me going to the capital," I said slowly.

"Oh, I know, my lady!" she smiled. "Hundreds of young maidens from all over the kingdom shall attend the princess' ball!"

"Well, yeah," I agreed. "But what I meant was... _we're_ not going to be travelling alone, and I wanted to let you know before you freaked out or something."

"I do not know what this 'freaked out' means, my lady." Agnes was struggling to understand.

"Scream, cry, faint, you know, stuff like that," I explained.

Agnes' eyes grew wide. "Why would I scream, my lady?"

I scratched my head. "Could you cut it out with the 'my lady'?" I begged. "My name is Morgan."

Agnes started to nod, froze, and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Her eyes rolled back in her head, showing only the whites, and she slumped to the ground in a dead faint.

"Hey, Fenris," I said, without turning around.

_:I was sneaking up on you:_ he pouted. _:How did you know it was me?:_

I turned to give him a grin. "I guessed. I thought, 'What could be scary enough to make a young woman faint?' and the answer just came to me."

He thwacked me with his tail in greeting and I ruffled his fur.

_:Did you tell her about me?:_ he asked, sniffing Agnes' recumbent form.

"Not yet," I sighed. "I was getting around to it."

_:The screaming and fainting gets old after a while:_ he huffed.

"Would you rather have pitchforks and torches?" I asked.

Fenris ignored me and slowly circled the horse which was standing stock still, skin twitching and eyes slowly following the predator.

"Leave him alone, Fenris," I said over my shoulder, stooping to shake Agnes.

The horse stomped one hoof, looking ready to bolt.

"If he runs then _you're_ going to carry the luggage," I reminded the wolf.

A low growl was my only response. When I looked up Fenris was sitting with his back to us, one ear turned back betraying his interest.

"Agnes!" I said loudly. "Agnes! Wake up!"

Her eyes fluttered and she came to her feet with a yelp, scanning the area in terror.

"Agnes!" I said, taking her face in my hands. "Look at me!"

She spotted Fenris and started to whimper.

"Look at me, Agnes," I commanded. "His name is Fenris. He belongs to me."

_:You wish:_ Fenris said snidely.

_:She can't hear you, can she?:_ I asked mentally.

_:Only those with magical power can communicate by mind:_ he said. _:And they can only overhear a conversayion if the sender is sloppy enough to not use shielding:_

I felt like there was an implied insult in there, but I ignored it.

"He belongs to me, Agnes," I said again. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

Her bottom lip quivered but she stopped hyperventilating quite so bad.

_:We need to prove this to her:_ I told Fenris.

_:Why?:_ he grumped.

_:Do you want her screaming and twitching every five seconds?:_ I still vividly remembered my hike with Isolde.

"Come here, Fenris," I said loudly.

His ears twitched but he didn't move.

Agnes gazed with wide eyes from me to the motionless N'jeri.

"Come!" I commanded. _:Get over here you walking carpet or I'll not speak to you for the rest of the day!:_ As threats go it was pretty empty. I just couldn't think of anything better at the moment.

Fenris stood slowly to his feet, stretching every single one of his massive muscles. When he turned, yellow eyes shining, lip pulled back to show sharp fangs, even I felt a bit nervous.

_:That's your commonsense talking:_ Fenris smirked. _:You're just not used to listening to it:_

"Come, boy!" I called cheerfully.

Agnes let out a gasp as the giant wolf stalked up to us and stood staring, not breaking eye contact.

"Sit, boy!" I grinned wickedly.

_:You're going to pay for this later:_ he informed me, dropping his hind quarters into a sit.

_:You're the one who wanted to do the collar thing:_ I reminded him.

"Good boy!" I praised him in baby talk, giving him a vigorous scratching. "Who's the good boy? You're mommy's good boy, aren't you?"

_:I will rip out your intestines and strangle you with them:_ Fenris said calmly.

"You'se just the cutesiest little thing, isn't you?" I chirped, squishing his face forward so that his eyes were half hidden in folds of skin.

"My lady?" Agnes quavered, inching backwards.

"It's okay, Agnes," I smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. Fenris is safe."

:Ha!:

"If you say so, my lady." Agnes' eyes were shining with awe and fear.

"I do," I said briskly. "Now, let's go collect all those dresses you were so excited about and hit the road!"

***

It's never that easy. Before, any time I left for a trip, I would have to pack adequate clothing and toiletries, make sure the neighbors would check on my cat, leave a note for the postman, and set the a/c to 80 degrees. This was far more complicated. And easier. Both, at the same time.

I didn't have to decide between taking heels or flats, jeans or shorts. I just bundled every piece of clothing up and attempted to strap it to the horse's back. That was the easy part. The complicated part came when Agnes noticed how I was wadding silk dresses into a crumpled mess and freaked out.

I'd thought she'd overreacted to Fenris' presence. That was nothing compared to the conniption fit she threw unpacking all my hard work and reverently refolding the dresses. I decided not to take offense, and went to help Fenris bury some of the larger valuables that we had removed from the castle.

We were only taking the coins and smaller, more readily sellable items, which was the majority of the castle loot. But there were a few larger vases and statues that were just too unwieldy for the horse to carry.

"I'm not sure why we even lugged this out here," I fussed, dragging a gold plated statue of an anemic looking woman over to the hole that Fenris was digging.

_:You might need the money some day:_ Fenris reminded me.

I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not planning on _ever_ coming back here again."

Fenris stuck his head out of the hole and grabbed the statue's arm with his teeth. _:Push:_ he ordered.

I manhandled the statue into the ground, trying not to drop it on Fenris' paws. Agnes was still carefully arranging the clothing and jewelry into smaller packages.

_:How goes the wardrobe?:_ Fenris smirked, knowing how little I cared for fancy clothes.

"Agnes seems to have it under control," I shrugged.

I walked back to check on her. I had to admit that she had done a much neater job packing than I had.

"Did you find anything you liked?" I asked.

She held up the plainest of the dresses. A horrid mustard yellow colored dress, with puffy sleeves and green embroidery. The only reason I hadn't let it be destroyed was the jewels sewn around the neckline. If they were real they were worth a fortune.

"Perhaps... if it pleases my lady..." Agnes looked shy.

"Yuck," I said before thinking.

Agnes ducked her head, blushing furiously. "Forgive me, my lady," she whispered. "I should not have presumed..."

I held up the dress. "Agnes," I frowned. "This is hideous. This color wouldn't look good on _anybody_! Surely there were better choices in there!"

She looked shocked. "I... I..."

"Don't worry," I patted her arm. "When we get to the capital we'll have a fashion show and pick a good one. I think there was a lavender one that would go great with your eyes."

She blinked. "You are most kind, my lady," she said.

"And another thing," I added. "That's the last time I want to hear 'my lady.' I'm not a lady. I'm Morgan. And you can call me by my name."

"But..." Agnes looked concerned.

"No buts," I said. "I'm Morgan. He's Fenris. You're Agnes. And the horse..." I looked over to where the beast was happily stripping the grass from the ground. "The horse shall be named... Horace." I grinned. "Get it? Hor-ace? Horse?"

Agnes looked blank.

_:You have such a talent for names:_ Fenris said sarcastically.

"Shut up," I told him, making Agnes looked anxiously between us, figuring that some conversation was taking place to which she was not privy.

Finally we were ready to depart, although I prolonged the moment, wandering around our empty campsite and trying to decide if we'd forgotten anything important.

_:I'm scouting ahead:_ Fenris growled, taking off into the woods.

I sighed. "Well, I guess if we left anything we can always get it at Walmart!"

Agnes just ignored me, as she ignored any remark I made that she didn't understand.

***

The path was not difficult, although it was overgrown in many places. Not many people travelled towards the capital city and if not for Fenris' nose and Agnes' roughly drawn map, we would have wandered far off track.

It was the monotony that did me in. Every day was exactly the same as the day before. We woke, we ate, we packed up camp, we walked. And walked. And walked. Day after day after day.

At first I practiced shielding with Fenris, but we quickly ran out of things to say to each other and descended into mindless plodding. He would roam far ahead and test the boundaries of our connection, but even that grew dull and boring after a while.

Agnes was still bright-eyed and excited. She had never left the town before and each day was an adventure, full of new sights and smells and ever changing scenery. I wanted to throttle her.

On the fifth day after leaving the castle meadow, Agnes was enthusing about the sound of the singing birds and the combination of her chatter and their chirping was giving me a massive headache when Fenris broke in.

He had gone far ahead, bored with our slow pace, and finally had something interesting to report.

_:We're coming up to another town:_ he announced.

"What!" I said aloud. "A town?"

Agnes broke off in mid sentence and stared at me. I waved her away and focused mentally.

_:How far away are we? Do they have an inn? Can we sleep indoors tonight?:_ I had a plethora of important questions to ask.

_:You're three miles away:_ Fenris figured. _:I'll wait for you:_

I pushed us into a trot, explaining what was happening to Agnes. She tried to study her map as she jogged along and pointed out where we were. I refused to let the knowledge that we were only half way to the capital city dampen my enthusiasm for sleeping indoors. My real hope was that the town would have more horses for sale and that we could ride the rest of the way in style. My feet were not designed for day-long hikes.

The road we were traveling started to widen and within the hour we could see smoke rising above the trees. Fenris ghosted in beside us making Agnes and the horse startle.

"What's the plan?" I asked him.

He panted, red tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. _:You master. I slave?:_ he asked.

Before I could answer there was the sound of goats bleating and we were surrounded by a herd of the animals being led by two young boys towards the town.

The goats noticed Fenris first. They baa-ed in terror and tried to stampede away, giving their handlers a tough job corralling them back to the path. Agnes and I moved to help, but Fenris beat us to it. He was off like a giant streak, circling the herd in an instant and driving them together to stand trembling and white-eyed in the center of the road.

The two boys were sharing the fear of their flock. They stood, gripping their staves in nervous hands and watching the massive wolf in terror.

Agnes stepped forward. "Do not fear the N'jeri!" she called loudly, parting a way through the goats to lay a hand on each boy's shoulder. "He belongs to the Godmother Morgan. She is great and powerful, slow to anger and abounding in gracious mercy towards those that please her."

I stifled a snigger and tried to look regal. I was pretty sure I just looked like trouble, with my leather pants and vest, high boots, and sword. The boys fell to the ground, bowing low.

"Greetings, great one," they said, voices muffled in the dirt.

"We are traveling to the great ball," Agnes continued, "and seek respite in your humble town."

From what I could see of the rooftops sticking up over the next hill, this "humble" town, made Agnes' home look like a tiny village.

"We demand shelter!" she cried. "And food, fit for the palate of the godmother."

The boys nodded fearfully and dashed off down the road, leaving us with the herd of goats.

I caught a wisp of a thought from Fenris' mind. "No, you don't!" I yelled at him. "You don't eat other people's goats."

He slunk off into the woods, sulking, and the goats started to stir, realizing that the predator was gone.

Luckily, we were not far from the town, and the boys returned quickly to claim their charges, bringing with them other men from the town.

One stepped forward, wearing the badge of mayor.

"Greetings!" he said grandly. "We welcome you, my lady! I offer you food and lodgings! You are welcome here!"

Agnes stepped back demurely and waited for me to answer.

"Oh, umm, thanks," I said awkwardly. "We can pay. We just would like a place to spend the night."

He gave me a low elaborate bow. "It is our pleasure to serve, Lady Godmother. What, pray tell, brings you to our humble town, if I may be so bold as to inquire?" As he spoke, he snapped his fingers to two of his companions, who rushed forward to take the horse's reins from me, and lead us all towards the town.

"We're heading for the capital city," I said.

"Ah!" The mayor's face lit up. "The ball! Yes. Our lottery winner has already departed, else we would have been pleased to have her travel alongside you and assist your servant in whatever manner you desire."

"Uh, thanks," I nodded. "But Agnes is not my servant. She's also going to the ball. I'm just traveling with her."

The mayor beamed at Agnes. "Ah! Forgive me, child. It warms my heart to see the joy of young maidens, so excited to witness the wonders of our fair capital city and experience the sweet kindness of our good princess, Cinderella!"

I smothered a smile with a cough.

The mayor loved the sound of his own voice, and he waxed on and on about other royal balls that he had sent maidens to and the descriptions they brought back of food and drink and elegantly clothed courtiers.

Agnes drank it all in, eyes sparkling as she envisioned the sights that would soon surround us. I just wanted a hot meal and perhaps a bath. The glories of Cinderella's wealth and beauty sounded nice, but could hardly compete with a full belly and clean hair.

_:Are you out there?:_ I asked Fenris through our mind link.

_:Yes:_ he replied shortly.

_:Do you want to come into the town?:_ I asked. _:I'll inform the mayor that there is nothing to fear:_

I caught the mumbled sounds of griping. Something about being reduced to a lap dog or something.

_:I'm sure they have steak:_ I wheedled, hopefully. It felt wrong to be relaxing when Fenris was relegated to hiding in the woods.

_:You go ahead and enjoy yourself:_ he replied. _:I shall keep watch out here:_ And with that, he shut down our link and refused to answer anything else I shot at him.

***

My estimation of luxury had changed quite a bit over the last months. Since Egyptian cotton sheets and Jacuzzi tubs were out of the question, I had learned to appreciate any bed more padded than the ground, and any heated water that I didn't have to haul myself.

Agnes insisted on my taking the first bath in the large hip tub that the townspeople filled with steaming water and left standing before the roaring fire in our room. The soap was a harsh lye and I could only submerge part of my body at a time, but it was glorious to finally be clean again. I bathed as quickly as I could so as to leave warm water for Agnes, and felt guilty about her having to bathe in my dirty discards, but she would have been mortified if I'd made her go first.

Dinner was a roasted chicken with a hearty peasant bread spread thickly with butter. I could die a happy woman. We ate in the tavern common room and the townspeople all filed through to ask my blessing on crops and newborns. I was embarrassed and hurried to call it a night and retire to our upstairs room.

The two beds were clearly luxurious by the town's standards, as they had carried them over from the mayor's house for our use. I'd protested, but in vain. They had a thin top padding, filled with feathers, above a thicker mattress stuffed with straw. It wasn't five stars, but, like I said, it was better than the cold ground with a rock for a pillow.

I lay there in the dark, staring up at the exposed ceiling beams, and was filled with a rush of homesickness. I missed my apartment, and, oddly enough, I missed my castle. It had been a place of security and comfort, the walls seeming to offer stability and order to the crazy life I had found myself thrown into. Now that it was gone, I felt adrift, navigating wild currents without any sense of direction.

My thoughts turned to my traveling companion. She was also leaving her home behind, and for the first time. Perhaps she felt as lonely and scared as I did.

"Agnes?" I whispered across the shadowed room.

"Yes, my lady?" she answered quietly. "Do you require anything?"

I heard her bed rustle as she moved to get up.

"No, I'm okay," I said quickly. "I just... wanted to talk."

"What do you wish to talk about, my lady?" she asked.

I wiggled around, trying to get more comfortable. "I don't know. Tell me about you, about your family. You were born in that town?"

I tried to imagine giving birth in a rural village without the benefit of a hospital or doctors or sterilized equipment. Horrific.

"Yes, my lady," Agnes said in the dark. "My father was a hunter from across the mountains who fell in love with my mother and stayed."

"That sounds romantic," I said.

"Yes," I heard a smile in her voice. "He loved her very much, they say."

"They say?" I asked.

Her voice turned grim. "He was killed by a N'jeri before my birth. My mother was so grieved that she entered her labor early and also died, giving life to me."

"Oh," I said in a small voice. "I'm so sorry, Agnes."

That put a new perspective on her fear of Fenris.

"It wasn't..." I didn't know how to ask if she knew which N'jeri had killed her dad.

"No, my lady. The N'jeri that killed my father was a huge, reddish monster. The men of our town hunted it down and destroyed it many years ago."

"Oh," I said.

The room was still for a while, each of us thinking our own thoughts.

"Who raised you?" I asked, breaking the quiet.

I heard her smile again. "My aunt," she said. "She took me in as her own, although she was unwed, and raised me till I was ten years old."

I sensed more tragedy here.

"Then what happened?"

Agnes sighed happily. "She was chosen in the lottery, my lady! She was chosen to represent our town at Cinderella's ball. She took with her a heavenly dress, embroidered with silver peacocks. It came as no surprise to us when news came that she had been chosen to remain in the capital as a lady in waiting."

I made a face. "She just... never came back?" Something seemed off. Agnes' aunt had just up and left for a ball and never returned?

"Yes, my lady," Agnes said. "Every year one fortunate young woman is chosen to remain to serve Cinderella. It was a great honor to our town that my aunt was chosen." She lowered her voice as if letting out a big secret. "It is my hope that I might also be chosen," she confided. "To serve in the palace with my aunt! T'would truly be wonderful."

"Yes," I agreed hesitantly. "So, I guess you're looking forward to seeing your aunt again."

"Yes, my lady!"

I probed for more answers. "Has she written at all? Sent word?" I didn't know how the postal system worked here, but surely she could have gotten some message through. I remembered Isolde explaining that the town's ball gown was only seven years old. Did that mean that Agnes' aunt had left seven years ago?

"No," Agnes said sadly. "She has not written since her first message, informing us that she was chosen to stay."

I frowned. "But surely, when the other young women from your town went to the ball every year, surely they saw her then."

"No," Agnes said again. "The palace is very big," she explained, "it is not surprising that they did not see her."

A chill ran down my spine and I pulled the covers up tightly under my chin.

"But you're hoping to find her, right?" I asked.

"Yes," Agnes said dreamily.

"We'll just have to make that happen then," I said firmly, having every intention of carrying through on the promise.

# Chapter Fifteen

"I'm going to die!" I wailed, hobbling over to our campfire. "I'm seriously going to die."

_:I don't know what_ you're _complaining about:_ Fenris griped. _:All you do is sit._ I'm _the one running my pads off:_

Agnes gingerly set the saddle bags on the ground and began to prepare dinner. Her face was drawn and white and she winced at every movement. I felt instantly guilty. She was just as unaccustomed as I was to hours in the saddle.

When I had purchased the two extra horses from the last town, I had envisioned cantering merrily through the woods, singing cowboy songs, and eating up the miles in comfort. I hadn't counted on my spine being jolted through my brain and leg muscles I didn't even know I owned screaming at me in agony.

"Here, let me help with that," I offered, limping to get the water skins.

"Oh, no, my lady!" Agnes protested. "I shall prepare the evening meal."

_:I thought you set all your slaves free:_ Fenris mused.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Morgan," I told Agnes for the umpteenth time. "My name is Morgan."

I looked over to where the horses were still saddled and unfed. Letting out a heartfelt groan I decided to do the right thing.

"I'll take care of the horses," I sighed.

Agnes looked relieved. Her experience with horses was more limited than my own and she had little clue what to do. She also didn't know how long it would take to groom and feed and neatly arrange the tack for the next day. Unfortunately, I did: forever.

Agnes was already asleep when I returned. She had left food warming for me on a flat rock by the fire, and had even laid out my newly purchased sleeping roll.

I collapsed by the fire, too exhausted to even lift food to my mouth. Fenris just licked a paw in a pointed manner.

"It's faster," I said. "We'll get to the capital a lot sooner than if we were on foot."

His eyes gleamed across the fire from me.

"Think about how much ground we covered today!" I tried to put a positive slant on it. "Granted, we would have made _better_ time if Agnes hadn't fallen off so often..."

_:I believe you fell off a couple times as well:_ Fenris broke his silent treatment.

I waved a regal hand. "I was just trying to make her feel better. She was so embarrassed about not being able to stay in the saddle."

:It looked very convincing:

"Well, if you're going to do something, you should do it well." I reached forward for my dinner, feeling every muscle in my body complain.

:I had no idea your acting skills were so superb:

"I'm full of surprises," I admitted, noticing that even my jaw muscles hurt. "By the way," I glared at him, "thanks for popping out of the trees that last time. It really sold the bit where my horse looked scared and reared and gave me an excellent chance to show solidarity with Agnes."

:My pleasure:

We sat in companionable silence, watching the sparks fly upwards into the night sky.

"Agnes' father was killed by a N'jeri," I said at last, thinking about the conversation we'd had the previous night.

:Ah:

"She said it wasn't you," I said.

Fenris growled. I moved around the fire to lean up against his furry side. He made a great back rest and produced so much heat I almost didn't need the fire.

_:Make yourself comfortable:_ he said dryly.

I reached out and scratched his ears.

"Have you... killed people?" I asked.

He rumbled again and I could feel the vibrations in his chest.

"I'm just... curious," I explained. "Why are you so different? Why are we friends?"

He shifted more to his side, stretching his nose out on the ground. _:Why does it matter?:_

I shrugged, running my fingers through his fur. "Everyone I meet tells me how scary N'jeri are. Evil, murderous, whatever. But you're not like that. What makes you different?"

He swung his head around to give me a wet lick on the nose. _:Every Godmother I have ever met has been an evil, murderous witch:_ was his reply. _:What makes you so different?:_

I wiped my face on my sleeve. "I'm not from around here," I huffed. "And I'm not really a godmother!"

_:Exactly:_ he said, closing his eyes and I could get no more responses from him that night.

***

Time heals all wounds, they say, and it also toughens up all weak muscles. Within a week we were riding as if we'd been born in the saddle. Agnes no longer squealed when her horse went faster than a trot, and neither one of us ended up on the ground, even if our horses startled. Fenris even grew tired of trying to make my horse throw me by popping up in surprise attacks, and we made excellent time.

Some nights we stayed as guests in whatever town we were passing, some nights we slept under the stars, some nights we even camped with other travelers to the capital city, although I could tell they were never comfortable around us. A godmother and her pet N'jeri were not relaxing people to roast marshmallows with.

Just when I thought we would be on the road forever, we left the forest behind us and saw, spread out in the valley below, like a giant patchwork quilt, the capital city, surrounding a huge palace like petals on a flower. I realized that the towns _had_ been growing larger and closer together for the last couple of days, and traffic on the road had increased until it was impossible to canter safely. We had arrived.

It was dusk, and although the palace was in sight, it was still many miles away, so we stopped at the first inn we came to, thankfully handing our mounts to the stable boy.

_:Are you coming in?:_ I asked Fenris mentally.

He sniffed the air cautiously. _:I think I'd better:_ he said. _:It smells like a rough crowd in there:_

_:Remember, you're my pet:_ I said.

He gave me a yellow-eyed look and refused to answer.

We entered the smoky common room where a minstrel was playing a rousing tune on a stringed instrument accompanied by boisterous singing. As the door swung shut behind me, every eye turned to stare and the music stopped mid-phrase.

My hand drifted subconsciously up to brush Wilson's hilt which was quivering gently and I tried to turn the motion into a friendly neck scratch.

"Greetings!" I gave everyone a little finger wave. "Don't mind us, we're just here for dinner."

Inside, surrounded by four walls and a roof, Fenris looked gigantic. He didn't help matters by raising the fur along the ridge of his spine and lowering his head to stare at the assembly. Half the hands in the room moved quickly to their swords and none of them tried to make the movements look anything but threatening.

"You are not welcome here," a burly man spoke for the crowd. "Take your demon-wolf and go."

Agnes gasped a little. She was offended that anyone would dare to throw her godmother out and opened her mouth to say just that. I lay a hand on her arm.

"It's okay," I said. "We're sorry to trouble you. We'll be on our way."

Fenris turned his glowing yellow eyes on me in surprise. _:You're letting them run you off?:_ he asked in disbelief.

Wilson shared his disapproval, growing hot along my spine.

My attention on my two bloodthirsty companions, I missed the determined look that spread across Agnes' face. She stepped forward and loudly announced. "This is Godmother Morgan. Beg her forgiveness for your rudeness!"

She pointed to the torque around my neck and the entire room drew in a deep breath. Fenris hunched his shoulders and growled loudly, lips drawn back in a snarl.

I gritted my teeth. My friends seemed to be doing their best to get us all killed, or at least seriously maimed before we left this room. A warm meal and a soft bed were not worth some poor townsperson's life.

The man who had spoken looked scared, but he held his ground. "I say again, _Godmother_ ," he sneered, "you are not welcome here. Especially at this time of year."

I opened my mouth to say, "No problem! We're just passing through. We'll be out of your hair in a jif," when Agnes spoke up for me again.

"The lady Morgan is kind and generous," she said puzzled. "We are on our way to the princess' royal ball. Now, of all times, should be a time of rejoicing and good will. Why do you deny us lodgings?"

I heard someone in the back of the room spit the words "kind and generous" in a bitterly sarcastic manner.

"Ask your godmother," the burly man said. "Now. I've had my say. Will you leave in peace, or shall we have a problem here?"

Fenris growled again and I wrapped my fingers around his metal collar. I couldn't stop him if he decided to attack, but I hoped the pressure from my hand would remind him that it wasn't a good idea.

I gave them a half bow and said, "We've got no beef with you. Don't worry about anything; we're gone."

Faces turned blank as they tried to figure out the meaning of my words.

I rolled my eyes and tried again in proper English. "We have no quarrel with you. We shall depart at once."

The burly man nodded but kept his hand on his sword hilt as we backed out through the door. Someone must have run out the back to let the stable know we weren't staying, for our horses were still saddled and ready to go in the courtyard, looking just as dejected as we were at the prospect of missing a good meal.

We mounted in silence and rode out into the dark night, Wilson radiating disapproval.

"You mind your manners," I hissed at it quietly. "I'm in charge here." I felt a cold whiff of disdain and then the sword settled back into being inanimate steel.

A half mile down the road I pulled up and faced the giant wolf ghosting alongside us.

"What the crap, Fenris? What was that all about?" I demanded.

He stood, coiled like a spring, swinging his head around to sniff out danger. _:I don't know:_ he said.

"Agnes?" I asked. "What's going on? I mean, I can figure out why godmothers aren't everyone's favorite people, but that was taking it a bit far, don't you think?"

She shook her head miserably. "I do not know, my lady," she said. "Forgive me if I spoke when I should not have."

"Nah, don't worry about it," I waved her off. "They just weren't pleased to see us. And something about the ball..." I struggled to put the pieces together and failed. "Oh, well. What now? Do we push on through the night or find a nice field to camp out in?"

Fenris growled low in warning, his nose pointing towards a small dirt road to our left, barely visible in the moonlight.

"Perhaps I can offer you a better option," a man's voice called. He stepped out of a deep shadow and offered a low bow. "I could not but help overhearing your plight. Allow me to provide food and shelter for you and your companions, Lady Godmother."

I kneed my horse forward and tried to get a good look at the man. "You know I'm a godmother?" I asked. "The last people we met here didn't seem to want to make our acquaintance."

He turned his face towards the moon so that I could get a glimpse of his features, weathered, bearded, with friendly eyes.

"Tis a troubled time of year," he acknowledged, "but still no cause to turn strangers out into the fields to sleep. Come, my farm is not far from here and my good wife would scold did she know I had refused hospitality." He gave me a wink, "And the gossip she will have after hosting the godmother shall fill her talk for months to come!"

_:What do you think?:_ I asked Fenris.

He yawned. _:Hot food is always welcome:_

"All right then," I agreed. "We'd love to take you up on your offer. I'm Morgan, this is Agnes, and the wolf is Fenris. He's no danger to anyone. He's mine."

The man peered at Fenris who flopped into a sit and scratched dog-like, his tongue lolling out of his mouth in a grin.

_:Why don't you chase your tail?:_ I asked him sarcastically.

_:Overkill:_ he answered smugly.

The man tugged on his earlobe. "Well, my lady, he looks like a monster, but if you say that there is nothing to fear, then I shall choose to believe you."

Fenris barked happily and wagged his tail. I rolled my eyes.

We followed our new friend down the small path, past dark fields hedged with tall bushes, and finally over a wide stream, almost a river, which rushed along in a mighty current. The farmhouse was set just on the other side of the narrow bridge, with a thatched roof and light flickering in the windows.

"The water comes from the underground caverns that honeycomb this valley," the farmer pointed out. "Sweetest water you shall ever taste."

Fenris stepped from the path down to the bank and lowered his head to take a drink.

"Careful," the man warned. "If your beast falls in, 'twill be swept deep below and n'er seen again."

"Be careful," I echoed to Fenris, eyeing the frothy current.

I was happy when we were safely across the bridge and leading our horses into the lean-to that the farmer showed us. Once they were rubbed down and fed, it was time for the humans to eat. The farmer had informed his wife of our company and delicious smells were wafting through the cracks in the wall and making my mouth water.

We were greeted warmly and sat down to a scrumptious meal, plain hearty food, but no less appreciated. The man's name was Thomas and his wife, Joan. They had three surviving sons who were married and owned farms around them. They seemed worn for their age, but their wrinkles were smile lines.

"And what brings you here to our fair city?" Thomas asked after a while.

My mouth was full of buttery bread so I nodded at Agnes. She leaned forward, her eyes shining.

"We have come for the princess' royal ball!" she smiled. "I have the honor of representing my town."

Thomas and Joan exchanged a look that I couldn't read, but their eyes looked troubled as Agnes went on and on about the dresses we had brought, the jewelry, the shoes, her excitement of traveling with an actual godmother, the length of our journey, and finally her surprise at our rude welcome from the local inn.

Fenris lay on the floor by the fire, gnawing contentedly on a large bone, but watching all of us with yellow eyes. I ate quietly as well, happy to let Agnes do all the talking with her youthful enthusiasm.

She ran out of things to say and the room grew quiet, the only sound that of the fire crackling and Fenris' teeth scrapping bone.

Joan asked a question which seemed disconnected from the current train of conversation.

"Are you a new godmother?" she said.

My fingers traced the cool metal around my neck. "Yes," I admitted. "I'm from... a different land. I became a godmother by accident."

The farmer and his wife nodded.

"You are not like the old godmother," Thomas allowed.

"You knew Bonificent?" I asked in surprise. None of the other people we had spoken to had ever commented on not recognizing me. It was almost as if the title was more important than the person.

Joan nodded. "We have seen her passing," she said quietly. "You are very different."

I thought about what I knew about the former godmother and took that as a compliment. Now seemed to be a good time to bring up the question that was still concerning me.

"Bonificent was Cinderella's personal godmother?" I asked and then hurried on. "Is she going to be angry with me? Have I made a mistake in coming here?"

Husband and wife exchanged another unreadable look.

"News has already reached the palace of Bonificent's death," Joan told me. "I would not be surprised if the princess was not waiting for you."

That didn't really calm my fears.

Thomas patted his wife's shoulder. "Our eldest grandchild is a scullery maid in the palace," he explained. "Joan keeps up on all the royal gossip."

Their smiles fell off their faces as they seemed to remember something unpleasant.

"Well," Joan said briskly, standing up, "the night is getting old and we shan't keep you from your rest. If you will help me move the table, I have mats that you can lay before the fire."

In minutes we were stretched out on the dirt floor with Fenris lying between me and the door. I scooted over a bit so that I could bury my hand in his fur and fell asleep quickly, lulled by the merry fire and a full belly.

# Chapter Sixteen

The next morning we were served hot porridge, heaped high with nuts and swimming in milk. Fenris complained, but I noticed he emptied the pot that Joan had considerately placed on the floor for him.

More than once she seemed about to speak to Agnes about something, but every time Thomas would catch her eye and shake his head. Joan would then just pat the young woman's arm and sigh. I wanted to ask what in the world was going on, but Thomas kept up such a cheerful stream of patter that I couldn't get a word in edgewise.

Rested and fed with our horses saddled, we were saying our goodbyes to the friendly couple when there was a loud commotion on the bridge and I turned to see what appeared to be a small army approaching.

They were dressed in bright orange tunics over shining armor, orange plums sprouting from their helms, with one standard bearer, holding aloft a white banner emblazoned with a... a pumpkin?

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Thomas and Joan had dropped to one knee with heads bowed and Agnes quickly joined them. Fenris ghosted around to stand beside me, hackles raised and chest rumbling in a threatening growl.

"We greet you in the name of her most royal highness, princess of the realm, the good Cinderella!" the man in front cried loudly, while a second man blew a blast on a small trumpet.

_:What about the prince?:_ I shot at Fenris. _:Or the king and queen for that matter? How come no one ever mentions them?:_

_:Really? That's the question you want to ask right now?:_ he snapped. _:I think we have a little more important things to worry about. Like, how close were Cinderella and her godmother and is she the sort of person who carries a grudge?:_

The lead soldier dismounted and swept his helmet off with a flourish.

"Which of you is the godmother Morgan?" he inquired before noting the torque around my neck. He bowed even lower, "Ah, Godmother," he said. "It is my duty to escort you and your companions to the palace at once."

Well, we'd come this far. Now was the time to see if it had all been worth it.

"Very well," I said regally. "This is my companion, Agnes."

Fenris growled louder and bumped me with his tall shoulder.

"And this is my N'jeri pet," I said offhandedly. "He's harmless."

I noted that the soldiers moved back a little, away from the scary looking monster.

"Thomas, Joan," I said kindly, "thank you very much for your hospitality. Perhaps we can repay your kindness later."

I hadn't wanted to insult their generosity by offering to pay them, but I had left a few silver coins hidden in the breadbox.

Thomas nodded his head and smiled sadly. "We sincerely hope to see you both again," he said, sounding like he highly doubted it. I wished for more time to drag some answers out of him, but our armed guard was impatiently waiting and if there was something derogatory about Cinderella, or the palace, to be said, it wouldn't be spoken in front of the princess' royal guard.

I nodded shortly and mounted my horse smoothly, grateful for the week or so of practice that enabled me to look somewhat competent and not fall off the other side.

Agnes was nervous and transmitting her feelings to her horse which shied and skittered about until one of the soldiers dismounted and held the reins while the young woman mounted.

"Forgive me, my lady," she whispered, red-faced as we set off across the bridge in the center of the group. We were either being treated with extreme deference or were being held prisoner. I wasn't sure which.

"No worries," I told her. "Is this the customary greeting for all maidens attending the ball?"

She shook her head, eyes wide.

Fenris refused to run next to my horse and after snarling fiercely at a foolish man who tried to corral him in the center with us, he dashed between the now nervous horses and circled our group, sometimes ahead, sometimes following behind.

"Captain!" I called, kneeing my horse forward to ride alongside the man who had greeted us.

"Godmother," he tipped his chin slightly, eyes scanning the road ahead.

I tried to think of a delicate way of asking if we were prisoners, but my mind always tended to explode if I tried to speak the local lingo. I gave up and just asked the question.

"Why the royal escort?" I said.

He blinked and shot me a look out of the corner of his eye. "My lady," he said grandly, "the good princess Cinderella received word of your arrival and has sent me, the captain of her own royal guard, to escort you safely to the palace."

"Safely?" I questioned. "Is there some danger around?"

He shook his head. "I meant no disrespect, Godmother. I am sure that you could dispatch an entire army of enemies on your own. It is merely a sign of the esteem that our princess wishes to bestow upon you."

We trotted on a bit further, the farms beginning to grow ever closer together until I could see the outlying skirts of the city, buildings crammed together, surrounding the sparkling towers of the palace.

"What's your name?" I asked, thinking it prudent to make friends wherever I could. You never knew when they might come in handy later on.

"Albin, my lady," he replied.

"And it is Captain, right?" I asked.

"Yes, my lady. It is my honor to captain the princess' guard."

"So, Captain Albin, what's the plan?"

He gave me a puzzled look.

"I mean, what happens next? You're taking us to the palace, which is where we were headed anyway, and then what?"

He nodded, understanding. "You will be presented before her most royal highness, the good princess Cinderella."

"Agnes too?"

He glanced back at where Agnes was riding quietly.

"I believe it is the princess' desire that your companion be taken to the young maidens' quarters to prepare for the royal ball."

"So," I said, patting my horse's neck. "Just me then."

"Yes, my lady."

"And my pet wolf," I said firmly.

Captain Albin tracked Fenris with his eyes. The wolf ate up the ground as easily as the trotting horses and looked anything but a cuddly pet.

"I..." he clearly felt trapped between two powerful women. "I can make your request known to the princess."

I nodded, happy to leave it there for the moment. When it came down to it, if they tried to separate Fenris and me, well, then things might get interesting.

"So, what's the princess like?" I asked, changing the subject.

He looked shocked. It must not be a common question.

"She is..." he looked around for help. "She is the princess!"

"Yeah," I said dryly. "I got that. But what is she like? Nice? Cranky? Eccentric? Humble? What's she like?"

He drew himself tall in his saddle. "She is the princess," he repeated.

"Ooo-kay," I mouthed. "Well then, what's the prince like?"

"The prince?" Captain Albin looked confused.

"The prince," I said growing exasperated. "The man that Cinderella is married to. You know, the guy who held the first royal ball however many years ago and found his true love in Cinderella. The reason she holds this ball every year for the kingdom. _That_ prince."

For a moment it was almost like a cloud drifted away from Captain Albin's eyes.

"I... don't know," he said slowly. "I... served the prince... before..."

"Before?" I prodded.

The cloud descended again. Now that I had seen it gone, I could tell that something was muddling his thoughts.

"The prince loves our princess," Captain Albin recited.

I dropped back to ride in the center of the group again.

_:Did you catch any of that?:_ I sent to Fenris.

He brushed my leg making me start. I hadn't noticed him getting so close.

_:That's the point:_ he said in exasperation, reading my mind.

_:Could you stop playing around and help me figure out what's going on?:_ I shot back, equally as exasperated.

_:You'll find out soon enough:_ he replied. _:We're here:_

Technically, we weren't there. Not at the castle anyway. We were just entering the main city gates, our group pulling in tight to avoid trampling the huge crowds of people who were thronging the city.

It looked like a festival was underway. There were street sellers hawking everything from meat on a stick to gold and silver jewelry. Children ran around between horses with apparent suicide wishes. Friends greeted each other loudly. And everywhere was laughter and smiles. At least, mostly...

On the fringes of the excitement, usually standing and watching, I caught faces that looked troubled. Faces that turned quickly away when they saw the royal pumpkin insignia. Faces with eyes that darted nervously, or mouths that turned down in resignation. All was not right in Cinderella's kingdom.

One of the soldiers rode ahead, blowing on his trumpet and calling for everyone to move aside for the Godmother Morgan. As we rode up the cobbled streets, people gawked and occasionally waved to me. I tried to smile and wave back, feeling like a stupid beauty pageant queen in a parade.

Fenris stayed at my side and if I leaned over a bit I could touch his fur. It made me feel a little less alone and afraid. Agnes was drinking it all in. Her mouth hanging open in simple delight, only noticing the joyous revelry, which was taking on a strained air, but perhaps I was imagining things.

All too soon we were approaching the castle gates. A massive affair of wrought iron and stone, with huge guard towers adorned from crenellation to ground with banners emblazoned with the royal pumpkin.

We swept through and pulled to an orderly group in the main courtyard. Servants rushed forward to take the horses while the soldiers dismounted and lined a path from me to the bottom of the wide steps leading down from the castle entrance.

Another flurry of servants was waiting on the stairs, taking our now travel worn bags and whisking them away inside. One brave soul even dared to attempt to take Wilson for me but my glare sent him scurrying for safety. I felt the sword smirk and reminded it silently to behave.

Finally, a man more grandly decked out than the rest, bowed low before me.

"Greetings, Godmother Morgan," he said with great elocution. "I am Seneschal Gilpin. You must be weary from your long travels. Allow me to show you to your rooms in order to refresh yourself before your presentation to her royal highness."

I smiled tightly. It seemed that I was being granted a short reprieve before facing Cinderella. Half of me really wanted to just see her and get it over with. If she was angry about Bonificent I'd like to know as soon as possible. I did realize that it probably wasn't the way things were done at the royal court. It might be an insult for me to show up in leather pants and road dirt to meet the princess.

"Thank you, umm, Mr. Gilpin," I said.

"Seneschal," he stressed.

"Oh, sorry. Seneschal Gilpin."

I looked around for Agnes. She was just walking away with another servant.

"What about Agnes?" I asked loudly, making her turn back at the sound of her name.

Gilpin looked flustered. "Agnes?" he spluttered.

"Yes," I pointed. "Agnes traveled with me."

He consulted a small scroll pulled from his voluptuous sleeves. "Ah, yes. Agnes. She is here for the royal ball." He snapped the scroll shut. "She shall be shown to the maidens' room and given a place to sleep."

He seemed to think that he had settled the matter.

"Why can't she come with me?" I asked stubbornly.

His eyes widened a bit in irritation. "My lady," he said with false obsequiousness, "it is the custom for young ladies attending the ball to be housed together. She shall be very comfortable, I assure you."

Agnes ducked a curtsey to me. "I shall be fine, my lady."

"Okay," I frowned. "But I would like to check up on her later."

"Of course!" Seneschal Gilpin exclaimed, motioning Agnes off. "Now, if you would please allow me?" He motioned towards the door.

Fenris had been half hidden behind my horse but slunk silently to my side as I placed my foot on the first step. Gilpin let out a shriek that would have sounded at home in the mouth of a little girl.

"What is that?" he yelled, backing frantically away.

I noticed several quickly hidden smirks on the faces of the watching servants. Apparently the seneschal was not greatly loved.

"This is my wolf," I said regally. "Come, Fenris!"

I took another step.

Giplin was blubbering so fast I couldn't make out the words. Finally he calmed down enough to become coherent.

"That... _creature_ cannot enter the palace!" he cried, greatly offended.

"Why not?" I raised one questioning eyebrow.

"Because!" he gasped. "It is a... a _creature!"_

"Actually," I gave him a condescending smile, "he is a N'jeri and he belongs to me. See the collar around his neck?"

I heard the soft intake of breath from everyone in the courtyard. They understood what the collar meant and were impressed. Probably a good thing that they didn't know it was all a sham.

"Nevertheless!" Gilpin was collecting his wits. "It cannot come _inside_! I shall arrange a stall in the kennels for it."

_:Not on your life:_ Fenris growled softly, clearing a circle around us.

I laid a quieting hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid that the N'jeri _must_ come with me," I insisted. "I cannot be responsible for his actions if I am not nearby."

Fenris raised his hackles and let out another growl to show just what sort of actions he might like to engage in without my restraint.

The seneschal sniffed. "Very well, my lady," he said, regaining his air of condescension. "I shall arrange for the creature to have a _bath_."

Fenris lifted his lip and showed the man some fang.

"Excellent idea!" I said, clapping my hands. "Show us to our rooms at once, my good man!"

Gilpin gave me a stiff bow and motioned me to precede him up the stairs.

The castle was enormous. A person could get lost in there for decades and never see the same room twice. I tried in vain to choose memorable landmarks to help navigate my way back, but, after ten minutes of walking, all the intricately carved furniture, gold leaf knick-knacks, and heavy oil paintings started to look the same. Especially the oil paintings. It started to feel like their eyes were watching me as I walked past.

At last we arrived at a massively carved door which seemed to be made of solid ivory. It started with a vine pattern around the border which changed into pumpkins, and then flowers, and then scenes of forest animals.

Gilpin cleared his throat, making me realize that I had been standing there following the patterns for longer than was polite.

He opened the door with a flourish and bowed me into the room, leaving extra space for Fenris to brush past him.

"I shall return to escort you to the princess in an hour," he said and was gone.

There was a large entry room, circular, with a heavy wooden table in the center, holding a glass bowl filled with fruit. I snagged an apple while I wandered through the other rooms. There was a sitting room, with comfortable couches and chairs, a bedroom with a large four poster bed and a mattress that actually looked _comfortable_. There was also a large bathroom, the sort I had grown accustomed to back at my own castle, if considerably larger. The water was probably not heated by magical servants, but it was still hot. Off the bathroom was a dressing room with full length mirrors, and all of my clothing from the packs neatly hung and pressed.

I ran a finger through the cloth.

"When did they have time to do this?" I wondered.

Fenris let out a short bark from the main room and I went to see what was going on.

Several maids had arrived, armed with long handled brushes, combs, a large, shallow hip-bath and fluffy towels.

One of them curtsied low. "We are here to bathe your dog, my lady," she said softly.

Fenris had been lying under the wooden table, squished though the space was for him. When the girl spoke he slunk out, knocking the table to one side and sending the bowl of fruit flying. The maids blanched with fear when they realized that my "dog" was the size of a small pony.

"It's okay," I rushed to assure them. "He's perfectly harmless."

Fenris gave me a level stare and huffed.

I tousled his ears. "Really, he's just a big baby."

_:I don't need a bath:_ he told me.

I leaned my face down and sniffed dramatically. "And he _really_ needs a bath," I said aloud.

The maids shot nervous glances at each other.

"I promise you," I said. "He will be a perfect gentleman." I took his muzzle in my hand and pressed my forehead to his. "Won't you, Fenris?"

He broke eye-contact first, letting out a loud sigh and collapsing bonelessly to the ground where he stared up at me with mournful eyes.

I wouldn't say that he was actually well behaved. Letting a human wash you without trouble probably violates some sort of canine code. I was busy in the bathroom myself for most of Fenris' bath, but I could hear sounds of violent splashing, shaking, and squeals from the maids.

When Gilpin returned we were both clean and presentable. Me in a constraining ball-gown that weighed a ton, and Fenris freshly brushed and his collar buffed and shiny. My one concession to comfort was in keeping my knee high boots on under the dress. Since the horrid thing reached the ground, no one was to know, but at least I wouldn't be in danger of spraining my ankle in dainty heels.

I'd had to leave Wilson propped up on the bed, a sword not really being the perfect accessory to fancy dress and it was obviously displeased with me. However, there wasn't much I could do about it, and I doubted I would need it or even be allowed to take a weapon near the princess anyway.

My heart was fluttering wildly in my chest as I followed the seneschal through the castle. I felt like I was so close to getting home. In a perfect world I would enter the throne room and explain everything to Cinderella, who would be sympathetic to my plight and would instantly tell me exactly how I could go home.

And then I would go _home_. Home to airplanes and automobiles and McDonald's and modern medicine and all sorts of other things that I so badly missed.

Sadly, there is no such thing as a perfect world.

# Chapter Seventeen

"The Godmother Morgan!" a herald called loudly, announcing my arrival into the throne room. He noticed Fenris with a start and added belatedly, "and pet!"

_:Ha!:_ Fenris sniffed.

I was trembling so badly that I had to steady myself on Fenris' shoulder as we walked slowly into the room.

It was designed to dazzle. Everything was shiny and sparkling and larger than life. The floor was polished to a high reflective gleam and wickedly slippery. My boots had been a wise choice. I don't know how I made it down the length of the room, with lords and ladies of the court whispering and staring, to stand shaking at the foot of the shallow stairs that led up to the throne.

I was in tunnel-vision mode, only able to see the next step in front. Fenris let out a little whine to let me know that I was pinching his skin with my death grip in his fur and I tried to loosen up a bit.

Raising my eyes, I looked up the four steps to the raised dais where two solid golden thrones sat. In one slouched a man, completely average looking and instantly forgettable, totally overshadowed by the radiance of the woman sitting in the second throne.

Cinderella.

I drew in a sharp breath. She was stunning. Yellow hair like rays of sunshine cascaded from her head in delicious bouncing curls. Her eyes were wide set and large, with dark lashes and deep blue depths. Her nose was nicely formed and perkily turned up a bit at the tip. Her lips were deep red and full and when she smiled her perfect white teeth gleamed and sparkled.

She was smiling now, at me.

"Godmother Morgan!" she cried in a pleasant ringing voice that carried throughout the room without seeming overloud or forced. "It is such a pleasure to finally meet you!"

I found myself sinking into a curtsey. Me! Who had never curtsied to anyone, ever before. Who thought royalty was a quaint British custom and that all people were created equal. I bowed before her because she _deserved_ it. She was the princess!

She floated regally down the steps to take my elbow and raise me to my feet.

"There is no need for you to bow," she chided me gently. "I feel that we are old friends."

I gulped. I so wanted her to like me, even more than I wanted to go home. I wanted to please this princess, to see her smile again.

"I killed your godmother, princess!" I blurted out, determined to get the worse news out of the way first. I couldn't stand it if she was kind to me and then found out later what I had done.

Cinderella smiled sadly. "I have received news of this," she nodded.

My heart broke. I should have let Bonificent kill me! Anything would have been better than bringing a shadow to that lovely face.

Fenris rumbled deep in his chest, so soft as to be inaudible, but I could feel the tremor under my fingertips which were still buried in his fur.

"She was evil!" I tried to defend myself. "She was killing the townspeople and keeping their spirits as her slaves! She killed my father and tried to kill me as well. I was... I was just defending myself. I didn't mean to really kill her!"

A shocked gasp went through the room and everyone waited with baited breath to see Cinderella's response. Evidently, Bonificent's true character had not been known here.

A flicker of emotion passed quickly over Cinderella's face, too fast for me to recognize. Then she looked disturbed.

"Can it be?" she said in a wondering tone, still clearly heard throughout the room. "Can we have been so misled? I shudder to think what harm has been done in my kingdom and by one that I called my friend!"

She looked so heartbroken that I wanted to hug her and tell her it wasn't her fault. She couldn't have known.

"It seems that we are in your debt, Godmother Morgan," she said, turning back to me. "You have rid my people of a great evil, and you have my eternal thanks!" She raised her lily white arms, inviting everyone to join in her gratitude. "What boon can we grant one who has done so much?" she asked loudly. "Ask what we may do, to show our deepest appreciation!"

My heart stuttered. This was what I had come for. This was the moment that I had hoped for. Dreamed of. Hardly dared to imagine possible.

"I-I-I," I stuttered. "I want to go home." My voice broke on the last word.

Fenris leaned into me, offering his silent support.

Cinderella looked surprised. Whatever she had been expecting me to say, it hadn't been that. Once again emotion flashed across her face. I got the impression that she was a little annoyed at my going off the proper script.

"Home?" she asked. "And what home is that, my dear?"

I glanced around the room. It felt a little weird to be standing here, having a conversation in front of all these people.

I lowered my voice. "I'm not from around here."

She cocked her head to one side in a delightfully inquisitive way. "And where are you from, Godmother Morgan?"

I shifted awkwardly and whispered. "Umm... I'm not from this _realm_ at all."

Some sort of understanding showed in her face. She looked troubled but plastered a bright smile on her pretty features.

"Come, Godmother Morgan. It seems we have much to discuss! Favor me with your company while we withdraw into my private quarters. I desire to learn more of your travels and deeds." Her eyes flicked for the first time to rest on Fenris. Although he was pretty hard to miss, he somehow hadn't rated her attention before. "It seems you have many adventures to relate."

A disappointed murmur filled the room. Everyone was dying to know what would take place between us. I for one was happy for the privacy though. I wasn't sure how many people knew that there was a different world from theirs and it didn't seem like the kind of news that you should announce indiscriminately.

***

I hummed happily to myself as I trailed the tips of my fingers through the water. I was sitting in the most beautiful garden in the world. The sun was on its way down and it was the golden hour, the time of day that photographers love. Everything glowed in a warm light and I wanted to drink in the glorious sight. It felt like all the aches and pains of my heart and body were melting away into blissful peace. I couldn't remember when I had been so happy.

A discordant sound made me frown. No, frowning was bad. I dipped my fingers into the cool clear water again and watched as little beads formed and fell to make perfect circles that widened and expanded and...

There was the sound again. It was followed by a sharp pain.

"Ow!" I cried, rubbing the back of my arm. "You bit me!"

Fenris growled and bumped me with his huge head.

I swatted him away. "Why did you bite me? That hurt!" I twisted to try to see if he had broken the skin. I was still wearing the frilled court dress and it was rather non-existent and filmy about the arms.

_:Morgan? Are you back?:_ Fenris asked, staring deep into my eyes.

"Back?" I exclaimed, flustered. "What do you mean?"

He sighed and laid his head down in my lap. It hung off both sides, but I reached my arms around him and kissed the spot between his furry ears.

"What's wrong, big guy?" I asked.

He let out a quiet whine. _:You were gone:_ he said.

"Gone?" I blinked. "I've been right... here...?" I looked around. Where _was_ I?

_:You were_ singing _:_ Fenris complained, ears lying flat on his skull.

"Singing?" I echoed dumbly.

:Something about something how this was love and then a different song about dreaming on a heart's wish while you were sleeping:

"Oh," I said. I hummed a few bars from the popular cartoon.

Fenris whined louder.

He moved his head off my lap and lay at my feet, nose between his paws.

_:Something is not right here:_ he said.

I agreed. It was a struggle to focus. I really wanted to go back to playing in the water and watching the sun sink behind the castle walls. Thinking was too much _work._

"What happened?" I finally asked. "I don't... remember... well, I remember meeting Cinderella." A warm glow of happiness flushed over my body. I clearly remembered how wonderful she had been. "But then..."

I squeezed my head between the palms of my hands trying to force the memories to surface.

_:We went back to the princess' private rooms:_ Fenris said.

I hit my forehead lightly, trying to jolt my brain. "I don't remember any of that," I admitted, scared.

Fenris whined again. _:She asked all about who you were and where you came from:_

I shifted my seat. "What did I tell her?"

:Everything:

Why did that make me nervous? Cinderella was good and kind. She said she would help me. Of course I told her about everything.

"She's going to send me back, right?" I asked hopefully. I would happily forget my entire time here if it meant that I could go home.

Fenris scrunched his shoulders. _:She said her attention was taken up with the ball, but that as soon as it was over, she would endeavor to grant your request:_

I tried to shake off the feeling of unease. "Well, then! Great! Everything is working out great! She's not mad. She didn't know her old godmother was evil. And she's going to send me home."

The great wolf's tail beat once on the ground.

"What?" I snapped, reading his mood. "Why are you such a downer?"

_:You were gone:_ he said again. _:I tried to reach you, but there was nothing:_

"Maybe I was just shielding really well," I argued, not wanting to admit that there was something horribly wrong. If I did, then it might mean that I wasn't really going home. That this was all just some sort of cruel joke.

_:You weren't shielding:_ Fenris said seriously, refusing to take offense. _:You weren't anything:_

"So, what?" I griped. "I sat there and had tea with the princess and talked and answered questions but I wasn't _there_? What does that even mean?"

_:She was controlling you:_ he answered. He lifted his head and stared off towards the castle. _:She thought she was controlling_ me _:_

"You?" I said, surprised. "Why would she try to control you?" The realization hit me. "Unless she wanted to see how much control she had over me..." I trailed off. "No! This is insane! She's a _good_ person! She wouldn't try to control anyone!"

Fenris turned to give me a yellow-eyed stare.

"She wouldn't!" I insisted. "How can you even think that about her? Didn't you meet her?"

_:I'm not passing judgment on her character:_ Fenris said reasonably. _:I am merely pointing out what happened while_ you _were... gone:_

He had me there. I couldn't really argue that she hadn't done anything wrong when I couldn't even remember what had happened. Maybe he had misread the situation.

"She ordered you around?" I asked. "Maybe she's just used to people obeying her."

_:She commanded me:_ Fenris said.

I snickered. I knew he didn't take well to being ordered about.

"You didn't have to obey," I pointed out. "You're not really bound to me."

He growled at me. _:Stupid woman. Listen. Someone powerful enough to take over your mind tried to also take over your pretend link with me. And you think suddenly announcing that we had been playacting about the whole control collar would have been a good idea?:_

Well, when he put it _that_ way...

"I still don't think she's bad," I said stubbornly. "I could feel it. She's _good_."

Fenris huffed.

"Maybe there's something else going on that we don't know about."

We sat there in silence. As the shadows lengthened the garden was slowly dipped into night.

"What should we do?" I asked finally.

_:We don't trust Cinderella:_ he said quickly.

I made a face but decided to let it pass. He would see in time. She wasn't bad.

"And meanwhile?" I said.

_:Meanwhile— :_ he stopped and sniffed the air.

"What?" I asked.

Still sniffing he treaded his way along the garden path, me following behind. We came to a high wall topped with sharp iron spikes that I could barely make out in the dim light. Fenris paced the foot of the wall, sniffing deeply.

"What?" I asked again. "What do you smell?"

_:I don't know:_ he said puzzled. _:There is something strange on the other side of this wall:_

I looked up at the wall. The stones were loose in places and I thought I just might be able to scale it. At least until I came to the spikes. They looked pretty serious. Like someone didn't want anyone climbing over the wall.

"Wait here," I said, and awkwardly tied my skirts up around my waist. I was grateful once more that I hadn't gone with the correct shoes.

In no time at all I was half way up the wall, fingers gripping holes in the stone while my toes were jabbed into the cracks. It was harder than it looked and also much higher. I began to regret my rash decision to peek over the top.

_:What's taking so long?:_ Fenris asked impatiently.

My fingers slipped and I tore a nice gash in my sleeve as well as my skin. "Shut up," I muttered back aloud. "I'd like to see _you_ do this!"

A couple feet more and my fingers touched the iron bars jutting up from the wall's top. I gripped and pulled and managed to hike myself up high enough so that I could rest my elbows on the top and see over to the other side.

_:Well?:_ Fenris asked. _:What do you see?:_

I kicked myself a little higher and peered into the darkness. I was looking into yet another section of garden. Why it was walled off was not readily apparent. From what I could tell it looked much the same as the garden I just climbed out of.

There was something large in the center though. A building perhaps? It was roundish and looked almost like a hot air balloon with bulbous sections. It was too dark too see much more.

_:Morgan!:_ Fenris cried in a panic. _:Guards coming!:_

"Oh, crap," I swore and slid rapidly back down the wall, leaving behind more skin and cloth.

_:Hurry!:_ Fenris urged as my feet hit the ground.

We ran through the now pitch black garden, my boots crunching on the broken shell path. Behind I could hear the heavy tramp of the night guard. We made it into the castle and somehow found our way back to our rooms.

I leaned against the door and panted for breath. Pretty soon I started to giggle.

_:What?:_ Fenris asked.

I snorted with laughter. "I feel like a kid about to get caught by the principle!" I laughed. "Why were we running?"

He shot me a level glare. _:I do not think it would have been wise to be caught:_

I waved his objections away. "You're being paranoid," I said with a grin. "We've done nothing wrong and it was silly to run like little scared rabbits."

_:What did you see?:_ he asked, not arguing the point.

I shrugged. "It was just more garden."

Fenris looked thoughtful. _:Nothing else?:_

"Well," I said, "there was some sort of building, but I couldn't see too well. If you're really that curious why don't we just ask Cinderella tomorrow?"

_:No!:_ he barked sharply. _:I smelled... something. Please do not mention any of this to the princess:_

"Fine," I yawned. "But I still say you're being paranoid."

:Perhaps:

"Anyway, tomorrow we need to find Agnes," I announced, heading for bed. "I want to see how she's doing and she needs to pick out a dress for the ball."

_:The ball:_ the wolf said darkly.

I rolled my eyes. I didn't know what had come over him since arriving at the palace but he was sure turning into a sour puss.

# Chapter Eighteen

"Agnes!" I called, entering the long room that seemed filled with flying lace, satin and ribbons.

Everywhere I looked there were young women trying on clothes, comparing jewelry, trading shoes, giggling, and talking loudly.

All heads turned to stare at me and I stopped awkwardly in the doorway. Fenris stuck his nose in and the silence turned into squeals as the women saw him.

"He's okay!" I said quickly, expecting a mass exodus from the room. "Harmless really!"

_:You've got to stop telling people that:_ Fenris complained. _:It's insulting:_

"Oooh!" one young woman cooed. "He's so adorable! Agnes told us all about him!"

We were mobbed by a crowd trying to pet, brush, and bedeck the wolf with everything from lace collars to ribbons.

I extricated myself and left Fenris to the torture. He shot pleading looks after me but I laughed heartlessly and left him to it. He settled for lying on the floor, nose between his paws and suffered silently while the young women giggled and played with him.

"Agnes!" I called again, spotting her sitting on a cot on the far side of the room.

"Godmother!" she cried, her face breaking into a smile. "I thought you had forgotten me!"

I sat down beside her and gave her a side hug. "I wouldn't do that! You've still got to pick your dress for the ball!"

Her eyes lit up. "Truly?" she asked. "I was afraid that..." she trailed off.

I elbowed her. "Don't be silly. I've still got a closet full of clothes for you to try on." I looked around. It was clear that Agnes was from one of the poorer towns in the land.

She had only one small bag at the foot of her bed, and the town's ball gown, hanging from a hook at the head of her cot, looked worn and out of fashion compared to the dresses hanging by the other girls' beds.

"Have you found your aunt?" I asked, remembering Agnes' other reason for wanting to come to the ball.

Agnes' face fell. "No, not yet," she answered.

"Well," I said briskly, jumping to my feet, "there's no time like the present to look!"

"Really?" Agnes looked hopeful.

"Yup," I smiled. "Let's go rescue Fenris from the fashionistas and then start the hunt!"

***

Hours later I was beginning to feel as discouraged as Agnes. We'd asked everywhere after her aunt. Fenris had suggested starting in the kitchen and while I suspicioned that it had more to do with getting a snack than with being a logical place, I seconded the idea.

The kitchen was a bustle of activity. The head cook, a large, red-faced woman sprinkled with flour, moved through the stuffy room like a tornado, flinging dishes together, and whipping her staff up into a flurry of activity. It was a good ten minutes before anyone paused long enough to notice us standing in the corner.

"Here!" the cook scolded. "No animals in the kitchen!" She waved her apron at the huge wolf, ignoring his size and sharp teeth. She started to plunge back into the craziness so I grabbed her arm.

"Wait!" I yelped. "We have a question!"

Fenris whined softly, tilting his head to one side and staring with pleading eyes.

The cook's face softened. "Very well," she sighed. "Girl!" she screamed at no one in particular. "Get the dog a leg of mutton. The poor thing is starving!"

She turned to go again.

"Wait!" I said again. "I mean, thanks, but that wasn't my question."

She crossed her plump arms and frowned. "I haven't all day, dearie," she said.

"We're looking for someone," I said quickly. "Her name is..."

"Edith," Agnes filled in.

The cook shook her head. "I don't..."

"She was chosen to be a lady in waiting," I explained, "seven years ago."

The cook's face slammed shut like a trap. "I'm sure I wouldn't know about the fancy doings of the gentry," she sniffed.

The answer was the same wherever we went. People were friendly, helpful even, until they heard who we were looking for. It seemed that no one knew or had even heard of Edith.

"But..." Agnes cried, puzzled, "where could she have gone? If she left the palace, why didn't she come home?"

_:Something is amiss:_ Fenris agreed, shooting me a significant look.

"I'm sure there's a rational explanation," I said firmly, refusing to get sucked back into his paranoia. "The palace is huge. Maybe we just haven't looked in the right places." Seeing that we had been wandering around the cellar, looking behind dusty casks of wine, I might have been acting a trifle stubbornly optimistic.

We came back up into one of the lower floors, a confusing maze of hallways and countless rooms.

"See?" I said. "There's tons more places to look."

I noticed a small door half hidden behind a hanging tapestry. "Like there," I pointed. "We haven't tried through there."

I pushed open the door and found a narrow staircase circling downwards out of sight.

"See," I said. "It's a servants' stairway."

"It looks dark," Agnes said.

"But we haven't been this way yet!" I said with forced cheer. I was determined to find this woman. She had to be around _somewhere_. It wasn't like a person could just up and disappear. She'd come to the palace, been chosen to stay, and now we just had to look in the right place.

Fenris sniffed the air.

"Let's go," I said, brushing past him to carefully pick my way down the worn stone steps.

It _was_ dark. And damp. And once Agnes closed the door behind us, kind of creepy. We climbed down and down, no landing, no doors, just one unending circle of steps leading into the bowels of the earth.

_:I smell something:_ Fenris said.

I wrinkled my nose. It didn't take a dog's senses to pick up _that_ odor.

"Yuck," I said. "I think I know where this goes."

Agnes made a face as well.

"Everybody poops," I said sagely, and rounded the final corner to come out into one of the circles of hell.

It was a low cavern, its ceiling riddled with holes that were dumping human excrement down into a huge pile where two humpbacked women stood hip deep, shoveling the feces into an underground river.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I said holding my sleeve over my nose.

_:It's not that bad:_ Fenris said, nose in the air.

Agnes just gagged.

I carefully stepped off the stairs and picked my way towards the two laboring women, trying not to think about cholera, typhoid fever, or dysentery.

"Hello!" I called, just as a glop of something fell with a plop on top of the pile.

The women turned dull eyes towards me. They looked beaten, like they had already died and their bodies were just going through the motions.

They both had grey hair and heavily wrinkled faces and were bent over from years of hard work. Their gnarled hands gripped the wooden shovel handles like claws and their clothing was liberally splattered with the feces they were shoveling.

"Hi!" I said again, trying not to vomit. "Can I ask you a question?"

Agnes tugged at my sleeve. "They're not going to know my aunt," she whispered. "They are slaves!"

The taller of the women blinked slowly. Her eyes seemed to take a while to focus on my face, then they drifted downwards to rest on my torque. She looked... resigned.

"Yes, my lady?" she asked in a dull voice.

"I'm Morgan," I introduced myself.

Agnes frowned disapprovingly. Apparently one did not speak to _slaves_ as equals. Too bad I was an American.

"Yes, my lady," the woman repeated in the same tone.

"This is Agnes," I said, waving in her direction. "She's looking for her aunt."

The two women glanced around the cavern as if to say, "There's nobody here but us."

"Her name is Edith," I plowed on relentlessly. "She was chosen at the ball seven years ago to be one of Cinderella's ladies-in-waiting."

The second woman hissed but ducked her head when her companion glared at her.

_:They don't seem to care for your princess:_ Fenris pointed out.

"Have you seen her anywhere?" I asked, feeling like this was a dead, and very smelly, end.

The women shook their heads mutely and went back to their shoveling. A twinge of pity stopped me from turning tail and bolting for fresh air.

"How long have you worked down here?" I asked with pity.

The women stopped and gave me a blank look. The first woman cleared her throat painfully and finally spoke.

"Years," she croaked.

"Years!" I was stunned.

The other woman, gaining courage moved as if to touch my arm. I couldn't help it. I recoiled from her filthy hands. She didn't seem to mind.

"Tell me," she whispered hoarsely, "does the sun still shine above?"

I was flustered. "Yes, of course."

The woman closed her eyes and swayed to a non-existent breeze. "What season is it?" she asked.

"Season?" I said stunned. "How long have you been down here?"

The first woman repeated her answer. "Years."

Agnes spoke from the bottom of the steps where she had retreated from the smell. "You've been down here for _years_ and never gone... up? Out?"

The women nodded.

"Why?" I asked with pity. "Can't you leave?"

They looked helplessly around the cavern. I noticed an alcove cut into the rock wall. A space just large enough for two dirty sleeping mats.

"You _live_ down here?" I gasped, feeling faint.

They nodded again, unused to speaking aloud.

"Who are you?" I asked. "Is this some kind of punishment? What did you do?"

A fresh pile of feces rained down nearby, splattering my boots.

I gagged and made a decision. "Come with me," I said, turning for the stairs.

The women didn't move.

I glared at them. "I am Godmother Morgan," I said in a confident tone, "and I command you to come with me."

_:Morgan:_ Fenris warned gently.

"I'm not leaving them down here," I said firmly. "I _can't._ I don't care what they've done. They can come up to my rooms and get a bath and clean clothes and a hot meal and tell us their whole story."

The women's eyes grew huge at the word "bath."

:And then?:

"Then we'll see," I said. "Come," I told them again.

"But they're _slaves_ ," Agnes whispered in my ear.

I gave her an icy look and stomped up the stairs in front, cutting short any further conversation.

***

I should have guessed that years shoveling feces would take more than a couple of minutes to wash off, but I was wearing a hole in the carpet from pure impatience by the time the two women emerged from my bathroom.

Against her better judgment, Agnes had procured two clean sets of clothing for the women. I had tried to offer my ball gowns, but had agreed that silk and pearls were perhaps not the best attire for manual labor.

The food I had ordered from the kitchen was stone cold and Fenris was fast asleep in front of the fireplace, his curiosity not preventing him from resting, a fact that I found exceedingly annoying.

Agnes sat primly in a straight backed chair, radiating disapproval. I might be the Godmother, but I was not acting properly to her way of thinking.

"What's taking them so long?" I asked for the umpteenth time.

Agnes pursed her lips, silently implying that those who invited _slaves_ into their private rooms and then turned said slaves loose in their bathroom, could only expect to have their valuables stolen.

I paced up and down some more, managing to nudge Fenris with my foot every second turn. He growled without opening his eyes and I relented. There was no sense in both of us being cranky.

Finally the two women sidled embarrassed from the bathroom. They were clean, their skin scrubbed pink and raw, their wet grey hair pulled back into tight buns.

The one who had spoken to me first dropped into a low curtsey.

"We thank you, my lady," she said huskily.

I blushed, "No worries," I said awkwardly. "There's food on the table." I pointed.

They didn't move, but their eyes stuck like glue. It was almost as if they expected me to be playing some sort of cruel prank and to whisk everything away just when they started to trust me.

"Sit down," I barked. "Sit and eat. I'm not going to bite."

_:I might:_ Fenris said without opening his eyes.

They edged around me to perch on the edge of their seats.

"What are your names?" I asked. "Who are you? And why were you locked down there in the..." I tried to think of a polite word for it, "... basement?"

I noticed that they hadn't touched the food and let out a sigh.

"Eat first," I said impatiently. "Or eat and talk and at the same time. Who are you?"

They reached forward tentatively and each grabbed a small loaf of bread. Watching me nervously, they raised the food to their mouths, waiting for me to rescind my offer or strike it from their hands.

I flopped down in another chair and groaned. "Just eat," I said, bursting with impatience.

Although they started slowly, in no time at all the plates were emptied. I'd never seen someone put away food like that. They must have been starving.

They shared a look that apparently decided something between them and answered my first question.

"I am Drusilla," the first women said quietly. "This is my sister, Stasia."

I gasped and choked as the world shifted beneath my feet.

Puzzled she went on, "We are..." Tears filled her eyes and she struggled with the words.

Agnes was leaning forward in curiosity and Fenris, feeling the emotion in the room raised his big head to study them.

"You're Cinderella's step-sisters," I said faintly.

# Chapter Nineteen

_:Huh?:_ Fenris asked. _:How do you figure that?:_

"You're related to the princess?" Agnes asked in awe. "But why...?"

Drusilla nodded sadly. "It's true. Her father married our mother."

_:I'm still trying to figure out how you immediately jumped to that conclusion:_ Fenris said, studying my face.

_:I'll tell you later_ : I answered mentally.

"If you're her step-sisters," I said slowly, "then you really pissed her off, right?"

They gave me blank looks.

"Uh, you angered her somehow," I translated.

Stasia's eyes flashed. She had a little more life left in her than her sister. "She's a monster!" she exclaimed.

Agnes gasped and made a warding gesture. "She is the _princess_!"

I admit that I had similar feelings. Who were these old, dirty women to speak out against Cinderella? I knew the story. They had been cruel to her, made her a slave in her own house, forced her to sleep in the fireplace, and refused to let her attend the royal ball! Only her fairy godmother... I blinked. Godmother. Right. If that part of the tale was different... maybe other things were as well.

I pursed my lips. "So, your mother married her father. That still doesn't explain how you ended up... where you ended up. Start at the beginning."

Agnes leaned closer. "I don't think we should be listening to such treasonous talk," she whispered.

Drusilla stood up. "You are right," she agreed. "It is far too dangerous for us to be here. We shall return to our place."

"No," I said. "I want to know the whole story. Agnes," I gave her a look, "if you don't want to hear this then you should leave."

She stood up, twisting her hands together. "But I..." she looked around at our faces. "Please, my lady. This is foolishness!"

I stuck out my chin. "Then you should go."

Her eyes filled with tears and she practically ran from the room.

I turned back to the sisters. "I want to hear your story," I prompted.

Drusilla shook her head. "This will not end well," she said darkly.

Stasia was made of sterner stuff. "I will tell you!" she said fiercely. "Perhaps you are the one who can stand up to that demon!"

Now, I was ready to give them the benefit of the doubt and hear what they had to say, but I still believed that Cinderella was good and kind and somehow they must have deserved their punishment. I was only waiting to hear the conviction from their own lips.

"Our father died when we were young," Stasia began. "He was of royal blood, but untrained in the art of business and as consequence left only his title to my mother upon his passing. Although we were poor we were content. We worked in the fields alongside our servants and never lacked for food or clothing. As we grew older our mother began to think of our futures. She wished us to marry well, but knew that with no dowry, there was little chance of capturing the right young man's attention.

She believed that her duty was to provide for us, and no matter how many times we professed happiness in our station, she dreamed of better things.

So, when an older man, of no title or breeding, but considerable wealth, began to court her, our mother could not refuse. The courtship, engagement, and wedding were accomplished within a fortnight. Our mother was a now a wealthy woman, and her new spouse gained a title.

At first all seemed well. Our step-father left on a trip to merge our two households and when he returned, laden with his many possessions, he also brought his daughter, a girl our own age, beautiful and charming and unused to our rougher way of life."

"Cinderella," I guessed needlessly, more to encourage her to continue, since she had paused and was lost in thought.

"Yes," Stasia said. "Cinderella. She was accustomed to wealth and privilege and was exceedingly upset with her father for his hasty marriage. The sounds of her beratement filled our home from morning till night. Not one kind word could she say to our mother, who soon..." Stasia's voice cracked, "... passed away."

"She died?" I said surprised. That wasn't what was supposed to happen to the wicked step-mother.

Drusilla looked about in fear. "She was hale and strong," she whispered. "There was no sign of illness upon her."

"You think she was murdered," I said.

They nodded and Drusilla bit her lip. "There is no proof," she said firmly to her sister. "And after her death," she said grudgingly, "Cinderella became kinder... less dissatisfied with our life. Especially after..."

Stasia glared at her but continued the story. "A woman began to visit our home. Tall and dark haired, with bright eyes and..." her eyes dropped to my neckline, "... a..."

"Let me guess," I said dryly, fingering the torque. "She wore a necklace just like this one."

"A godmother," Stasia agreed. "The necklace is... similar."

"Nope," I said, being honest. "It's not similar. It's the same. I killed her and got this collar in return."

The two sisters stared at me, mouths hanging open.

"You... _killed_ the godmother?" Drusilla asked in a shocked voice.

I waved my hand like it was nothing. "I'll tell you about it later," I said airily. "Continue!"

Fenris let out a snort.

Stasia viewed me with new respect. "The godmother is the most powerful woman in the land," she breathed. "We did not know her well, but she met with Cinderella many times until one day an invitation from the palace arrived."

"Inviting all eligible maidens to the prince's ball," I said with a smile.

Stasia shot me a puzzled look. "Yes," she said. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," I grinned. "But you didn't want Cinderella to go, right?" I was waiting for this story to get back on track. There was too much weirdness in it right now.

"No," Drusilla protested. "All three of us attended the ball!"

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes! Cinderella opened her wardrobes to us and allowed us to choose from her own personal gowns."

Drusilla's mouth turned up a bit at the corners.

"She had the most beautiful gowns that we had ever seen."

Stasia smiled as well. "But the dress that Cinderella wore..." she trailed off dreamily. "The day of the ball, the godmother brought Cinderella a gown to wear. It was... breathtaking!"

I frowned. "I'm not sure where this is going," I admitted. "It seems like you and Cinderella should be on good terms."

"We were," Drusilla said with gritted teeth. "She had become very kind and we had no idea what she was."

"We were happy that the prince noticed her," Stasia added. "And then there was the engagement and parties and dress fittings and such excitement."

"And then the wedding," Drusilla said darkly.

Stasia's face went slack. "We were lost that night," she said slowly, staring at the wall as if it were a TV screen playing out her memories. "We took a wrong turn... and entered the room..." her voice broke.

Drusilla jumped to her feet. "That's enough," she said sharply. "No good will come of speaking of such things."

"What!" I cried. "I want to know! What happened?"

"No," Drusilla was adamant. "It is too dangerous. We shall return to our place."

"But, but," I stammered. "You _can't_ go back there! It's horrible! Just let me talk to the princess. I'm sure whatever happened between the three of you can be forgiven! She's probably just forgotten. Let me just ask her—"

"No!" Drusilla yelled, eyes wide with fear. "You must promise that you will _never_ speak our names to Cinderella! Promise!"

I shrank back from the fury in her gaze. "Okay," I said in a small voice. "But I really wish you would tell me what's got you so scared."

She shook her head, pulling her sister to her feet. "We thank you for your hospitality and kindness. I also suggest that you leave the palace at once. Do not wait for the ball."

I made a noncommittal face. I had every intention of leaving for good, but it would have to be _after_ the ball.

"I'll, um, bring you some more food later," I offered.

Stasia looked hopeful but Drusilla shook her head. "No. It is far too perilous. Forget you ever met us."

She checked the outside corridor while holding the door open a crack and motioned for her sister to follow as they slid quietly away.

I sat there stunned, trying to replay what had just happened.

_:So, what do you think?:_ Fenris asked finally.

I made a circular motion with my finger near my ear.

_:Perhaps:_ he said thoughtfully.

"Something's fishy," I said. "And what's with all the cloak and dagger? 'We'd like to tell you but then we'd have to kill you!'" I twirled an imaginary mustache.

_:Their mental state did not seem to be the most stable:_ he agreed.

"Ya think?" I asked sarcastically.

I joined him on the floor, pillowing my head on his side and stretching my legs out. He licked my ear playfully and we settled down to watch the crackling fire.

***

The day of the ball was approaching fast. It seemed the whole castle was in a panic of preparations, people running everywhere, voices raised, tensions high. I mainly tried to stay out of everyone's way.

Agnes spent several afternoons in my room, trying on every dress we had brought at least four times each. She was all in a dither and we spent hours discussing the virtues of silk versus taffeta, and pearls versus embroidery. Most of the time I just nodded my head and agreed with whatever she was saying. I was used to pulling my clothes off the rack at the store and hardly ever checked tags to see what they were made of. "If it couldn't make it through the washer then it didn't deserve to be worn" was my motto. Of course, here there were no dryers, or sewing machines, or factories churning out mass-produced clothing. I felt like they were really missing out.

After Agnes decided on the perfect gown, she turned her enthusiasm to choosing one for me. I tried to pick one quickly but that apparently hurt Agnes' feelings, so I pretended to care at least a little and allowed myself to be dressed and undressed like a department store mannequin.

I'd been laboring under the misunderstanding that as soon as the dresses were chosen I was home free. To my horror I discovered that although we had decided on our attire, we then had to choose jewelry, shoes, and, worst of all, having our gowns "fitted." This meant more hours standing on a stool and getting jabbed with pins from trembling seamstresses, terrified that the godmother would turn them into toads out of spite.

Fenris was disgusted with the whole thing and would show his displeasure by choosing to sleep in the most underfoot places about our rooms. Granted, with a beast that size, _anywhere_ he slept was underfoot. None of the servants, maids, or seamstresses dared to ask him to move and I could feel Fenris internally laughing as they all tiptoed about him, careful not to disturb the sleeping wolf.

Such was the hustle and bustle that I had no time to follow up on my promise to visit the step-sisters again in their underground hell. Nor did I speak to Cinderella about my encounter with them.

Once a day the princess would send for me to stroll about the gardens with her while we chatted about the upcoming ball, or she asked further questions about where I had come from. She promised each time that as soon as her attention was free, she would devote all her energies to sending me home and I had no reason to doubt her.

A couple of times I opened my mouth to ask about _her_ past, but something always came up to distract me, and I remembered my promise to Drusilla to not mention their names. The disparity in ages between Cinderella and her step-sisters bothered me. I wondered if life deep under the castle could really age a person that quickly and I felt that there was something I was missing, some piece of the puzzle that would explain everything, but as the ball grew ever nearer I resigned myself to never knowing. It would be enough to get home. I didn't have to find the answers to everything.

I really enjoyed spending time with Cinderella, she was witty and funny and sweet and the only problem with our daily walks was that Wilson quivered every time I left him behind in my rooms. I couldn't tell if the sword was upset about not being taken or if it was a commentary on who I was meeting. Either way, I couldn't take a weapon on a stroll with royalty, so stay behind he must. Fenris was still unhappy about the situation and refused to join me, which was probably for the best. Cinderella seemed a trifle nervous around him the couple times they met. I couldn't blame her.

The morning of the royal ball dawned bright and clear and if I had thought the castle was busy before, then the current activity was approaching insanity. I decided to stay out of the way and determined to enjoy what I was sure would be my last night in this crazy realm.

Fenris joined me as I took my horse from the stables and we went for a long ride through the city and out into the countryside. I realized I would miss this: the freedom and control of riding and the warm mental companionship of the N'jeri.

We stopped at a stream to let Fenris and the horse drink and I sat relaxed in the saddle, feeling like I had always known how to ride, and wishing that I could take this part of the realm home with me.

"This is nice," I sighed, watching a brightly colored bird darting among the tree tops.

Fenris plunged into the stream, soaking his fur and then charged back out, shaking freezing drops of water all over me.

"Stop it!" I shrieked in laughter. "I'm going to smell like dog!"

_:And that's a bad thing?:_ he grinned at me, tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.

"No," I grinned back. "That's a _horrible_ thing."

He made as if to shake again and I kneed my horse up the bank and away, galloping back down the dirt road we had followed to get here. Fenris caught up easily and we settled into a slow canter, the rocking motion almost making me drowsy.

_:Don't go to the ball tonight:_ Fenris said out of nowhere.

"What?" I was surprised. "Why not?"

_:I don't know:_ he said. _:Something is wrong here:_

I rolled my eyes.

_:I don't want you to go:_ he insisted.

I suddenly realized that the N'jeri would be out of place at a royal ball. "You're not coming?" I said slowly.

He looked up at me with an ironic sneer.

"Yeah, I guess not," I said thoughtfully. "Look, don't worry about me. It's just a ball. I'll bring you back some food."

He growled but left the topic alone, for which I was grateful. I was worried that Fenris didn't want me to leave. We had become close and I would miss him, but I had to go home. It made me feel like a selfish jerk, but he had to understand that I didn't belong here. He might feel blue for a while, but surely he'd just go back to doing whatever it was he had done before meeting me.

We were silent the rest of the trip back to the palace and when I arrived in our rooms there was a bevy of anxious maids impatiently waiting to prepare me for the ball. I submitted to their ministrations and spent the next hours being scrubbed and scented and buffed and painted.

# Chapter Twenty

"How do I look?" I asked, twirling in front of the fireplace.

Fenris was lying stretched out across half the room. He raised his head to look and came quickly up to a sitting position.

_:You look beautiful:_ he said seriously.

I blushed. "You're just saying that," I said, smoothing out my skirts. "I look like a wedding cake."

_:Good enough to eat:_ he agreed.

The maids had left, satisfied with the end result of their work. It was time to head down for the ball, and I was having stage fright. The low neckline of my dress meant that my status as godmother would be instantly visible to anyone I met. Add in the fact that I had never attended any event more formal than a wedding reception, and I was starting to regret this whole thing. Maybe I could just stay by the fire and read all night. No one would miss me, right?

There was a knock at the door. Two soldiers in their dress finest stood there.

"We have come to escort you to the ball, my lady," the senior one bowed.

I gave a nervous smile.

"You're going to be all right?" I asked Fenris.

_:Go have fun:_ he said, being supportive for once.

"Okay," I said forlornly. "I'll be back in a little bit."

_:And Morgan?:_ The wolf turn bright yellow eyes on me.

"Yes?"

:Be careful:

"I will," I promised, not really sure what I was going to be careful about.

One of the soldiers held his arm out for me and I tried to put my hand the way I had seen other ladies of the court do, and we swept down the stairs towards the ballroom.

Ladies and gentlemen were flooding towards the ballroom doors which were thrown wide open letting a wave of sound and light pour out into the castle. It was just like I imagined it, the beautiful gowns, the bright lights, the attentive men in tailed coats, and Seneschal Gilpin loudly announcing each group to the assembly within.

The ballroom was huge and took up several floors in the castle, so that a long staircase spread down from the entryway, allowing the occupants of the room to get a good look at anyone descending to the main floor.

"The Godmother Morgan!" Seneschal Giplin hollered in my ear, making me jump and trip on the top stair.

Every single person in the room stopped what they were doing to stare in hushed silence. Good thing I wasn't nervous or anything. Stumbling down the stairs, stepping on the hem of my dress, those sorts of things might have embarrassed a more tense person than I.

I pulled it together and managed to navigate the final step without landing on my face and then a voice rang out, clear and silvery, "Godmother Morgan! I'm so happy you made it!"

Cinderella was picking her way through the crowd which parted before her like the Red Sea. She paused briefly to smile and air kiss different people, but quickly made her way to my side, grasping my hands in hers and treating me to a genuine smile.

"Come, you must meet everyone," she sang out merrily, pulling me along.

The suspicious looks of the crowd turned envious as they saw my favored status with the princess. I was still too flustered from my inelegant entrance to really pay attention to the myriad of names and faces that were being paraded before me. Their reactions were all the same. The initial smile freezing to terror as they noticed my torque and then fading to mere nervousness as Cinderella assured them of my good will.

I realized that no response was really needed for the introductions other than to smile and nod, so I set that part of my brain on autopilot and started to look about the room. There was a large dance floor, filled with swirling couples completing complicated patterns. There were groups of people chatting and moving about the outside of the room, filling their plates at the massive buffet tables and moving like a kaleidoscope across the dance floor. Everywhere I looked were smiling people. The women outnumbered the men and seemed to travel in packs.

At last, Cinderella had introduced me to everyone she could possibly think of, and turned me loose to wander the ball on my own. I began to roam the room, keeping my eye out for Agnes, whom I finally found coming off the dance floor with a huge smile on her face. Her partner gave her a low bow and departed to fetch her a drink.

"Agnes!" I greeted her. "You look lovely!"

She smiled shyly and ducked her head. "Thank you, my lady."

We stood side by side and watched the swirling dresses.

"Is it everything you thought it would be?" I asked.

She let out a rapturous sigh. "It is far better, my lady. I never... dreamed..." she threw out her arms to encompass the scene, at a loss for words.

I smiled at her enthusiasm. If I was being honest, I'd have to admit that I was finding the whole ball to be a trifle anti-climatic. It was nice, but I didn't feel that I belonged. My dress was so tight I could hardly breathe, and my shoes were pinching my feet horribly. What I really wanted to do was to get back to my room, switch back into my normal pants and hang out with Fenris.

A murmur went through the room like a wave and Agnes clasped her hands in excitement.

"It is time!" she squealed in a high pitched whisper. "It is time!"

"What's time?" I asked, looking around.

Cinderella was mounting the steps up to a low dais and every one turned to face her.

"My loyal subjects!" she cried loudly, her voice somehow filling the room without amplification. "I thank you for attending this celebration of the royal ball at which my beloved prince and I first met."

She cast a loving look behind her to where the prince was sitting in a throne. He smiled back and motioned for her to continue.

"As you all know, every year, each town in our kingdom sends one of their young maidens to attend this ball. Rich or poor, all are welcome within our halls! And every year, I choose one special maiden to remain here at the palace as one of my ladies-in-waiting."

The crowd pushed closer in eager anticipation.

"This year," Cinderella announced, "that maiden is Agnes Archer!"

Everyone erupted into applause and I noticed Agnes beaming with tears streaming down her face.

"Is that you?" I asked in awe.

"Yes!" she breathed. "I get to stay! Oh, Godmother Morgan, I am so happy!"

Agnes flung her arms around me and hugged me tight.

"Please, Lady Agnes," Cinderella called sweetly, "please, come to the dais."

"Go on," I urged her, pushing her forward.

There was some sort of short ceremony and Agnes was presented with a necklace and everyone clapped and then got back to the important business of dancing and eating and mingling.

I was happy for Agnes; it was a dream come true for her, but I soon wearied of the ball and decided to slip out and head back to my room. I looked around to say my goodbyes and congratulations to Agnes but couldn't find her or Cinderella. It was late, almost midnight and the dancers seemed prepared to keep on until daybreak. I planned to be fast asleep by that time. I'd just have to thank the princess later.

The seneschal had left the main entrance and there was no one to notice as I quietly left and trudged wearily down the long hallways back to my room. As soon as I rounded the first corner I took off my shoes and, feeling a million times lighter, I picked up the pace.

"Fenris!" I called, coming through the door. "I'm back."

The room was dark. The fireplace had died down to embers and I could barely see.

"Fenris?" I said louder.

_:Are you alone?:_ he asked.

I tried to scan the room, but couldn't make out where he was.

"Yes," I said. "Why is it so dark?"

_:Are you sure you are alone?:_ he asked earnestly.

"What?" I bumped into a chair, stubbing my toe badly. "Crap!" I swore. "Fenris! Where are the lights?"

I spotted his gleaming eyes and threw one of the chair cushions at him.

"I'm going to break a leg here," I complained. "What's going on?"

_:Where have you been?:_ he asked, ignoring my question.

"What do you mean?" I snarled, getting exasperated. "At the ball! Where did you think I was?"

Fenris blinked slowly and his eyes moved a couple of feet to the right. He was circling me.

_:Where is Agnes?:_ he asked, his voice heavy with importance.

I thought about throwing my shoes at him, but wanted some answers first.

"What in the world is going on, Fenris?" I said loudly. "Agnes was at the ball too. _Everyone_ was at the ball. What's gotten into you?"

He let out a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. I hadn't been afraid of him since our first meeting, but now...

_:Where is Agnes,_ Godmother? _:_ he snarled the last word.

I flinched backwards as if he had slapped me. "Godmother?" I said in shock. "Come on, Fenris! It's me! Morgan! Please! What is going on?"

_:Why don't you ask your friend, Cinderella?:_ he suggested.

I drew in a deep breath and collected myself. I was not going to stand here in the dark and argue with him. Ignoring the sane part of my brain that was screaming about running away and hiding from the big, hairy monster, I marched past him, grabbed up the poker and viciously attacked the fireplace until the embers flared back to life.

I could feel the N'jeri's breath hot on my neck, but I refused to look around until I had a small blaze going that cast a dim light over the whole room.

"That's better," I said, wiping my ash covered fingers on the skirt of my gown. "Now," I turned to the giant wolf, "tell me what is going on, or I shall brain you over the head with this poker."

I waved it under his nose to prove my point. He jerked forward like a snake, snapping the iron bar with one crunch of his teeth. The end of the poker fell to the ground with a clatter.

I rocked back on my heels, still holding the handle.

"Or," I said slowly, "you could just tell me what's going on."

His teeth were inches from my face.

_:Do you remember who you are?:_ he asked.

I grabbed his fur and used it to help myself to my feet. "Yes," I said dryly. "I remember who I am. I'm Morgan Shipton, an American, and I don't belong in this crazy world."

Fenris sighed and nosed me gently with his snout.

I buried my face in his fur. It smelled like the outdoors.

"What's going on, Fenris?" I asked quietly, my voice muffled. "Why the third degree?"

_:I have something to tell you:_ he said gently. _:I just wanted to make sure that you were still you:_

"I don't even know what that means," I said tiredly, realizing that my warm bed was probably going to have to wait.

Fenris turned his head and let out a short yip. I heard a movement behind us and turned to see the shadow of a person standing in my bedroom doorway.

"Who's there?" I called out.

_:It's Stasia:_ Fenris explained. _:The princess' step-sister:_

I relaxed. I still had no clue what was going on, but at least Stasia wasn't a threat.

"Come on in," I encouraged her. "What's up? Do you need something?"

She stepped reluctantly into the circle of firelight. Her face once more streaked with dirt.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered. "It's far too dangerous for all of us."

I blinked. "Okay," I said slowly.

"Drusilla would be so angry if she k-knew," Stasia stammered.

I shot Fenris a questioning look but he stared back without revealing anything.

"Are you hungry?" I guessed.

She shook her head. "No, my lady."

"Uh, then why..." I fiddled with my dress. "What can I help you with?"

She stepped forward, "I don't need your help," she said urgently.

"Okay," I repeated myself.

"I've come to help _you_ ," she said in a rush. "I shouldn't. Drusilla says to mind our own business. That being alive is better than being dead."

She paused waiting for me to agree so I nodded. Sure. Alive was better than dead. I just didn't see what that had to do with me.

She spread her hands wide. "It is just that, you were so kind to us, to me. I couldn't... I just had to... maybe you can..." she broke down and began to cry.

I gave Fenris another "what the heck?" look and gingerly patted Stasia's arm.

"It's okay," I mumbled. "Just spit it out."

"She has your friend," Stasia said between sobs. "I had to warn you!"

"My friend?" I asked puzzled.

"The young woman who came with you," Stasia explained, trying to pull herself together.

"Agnes?"

"Yes," the step-sister nodded.

"Who has Agnes?" I asked, feeling a cold hand grip my heart. Suddenly, not being able to find Agnes at the ball seemed ominous.

"The demon," Stasia replied. "Her soul will be drained by the demon."

Her face was pale white, her hands shaking in fear, her eyes so huge that her pupils looked like pinpricks, even in the low light.

"What demon?" I asked, my pulse pounding in my ears. "What demon?"

Stasia frowned at me puzzled. She seemed to think that I should already have known there was a demon about.

"The princess," she said. "Cinderella."

# Chapter Twenty-One

"Cinderella?" I squeaked. "Cinderella is a demon?"

I inched away from the crazy woman.

_:She's nuts:_ I said mentally to Fenris.

Stasia wailed and dropped to the floor. "This is why Drusilla said to stay quiet. No one will ever believe us!"

I rolled my eyes at Fenris over her head. "Of course I believe you, sweetie," I said in a fake voice.

"You do not!" she cried, snapping up her head. "You think I am lying! Well, you shall see!"

She jumped to her feet and headed for the door.

_:Stop her:_ Fenris said.

"Why?" I asked quietly, thinking the faster the lunatic left the safer we would all be.

_:For Agnes:_ he replied.

I sighed and threw up my hands. "Stasia!" I called after her.

She stopped.

"Let's just say, for the moment, that I'm willing to believe you. What is it that I'm believing?"

She studied me suspiciously. "You want to hear the truth?"

"Yes," I said. "So tell me."

I pointed to a chair by the fire. My feet were killing me and I saw no reason to continue this conversation standing up.

She perched uncomfortably on the edge of her seat. More uncertain now that she had a listening audience.

"Why do you think Agnes is in danger?" I asked the most important question first.

"I do not _think_ ," Stasia spat at me, her eyes now sparking with fire. "I _know_."

It was my turn to be uncomfortable. She either belonged in a straitjacket or she was telling the truth.

"The night of the wedding," Stasia began, "there was a great ceremony, half the kingdom attended. And then there was dancing and feasting and much merriment. Drusilla and I grew weary and decided to retire to our rooms. We were unfamiliar with the palace and lost our way. We found ourselves in a strange section, one we had not seen before, which did not surprise us. As I said, we were unfamiliar with the entire place."

She looked at me to see how I was taking the story so far. I nodded for her to continue while Fenris came and sat at my side, his head almost even with my own.

"We heard voices," Stasia said, lowering her voice, "And then..." her eyes grew wide in horror. "... it is hard to speak of it now."

"Well, you'd better," I growled.

She swallowed hard. "I—I do not know how to describe what we saw, our shock... we saw our step-sister... but she was not our step-sister, she looked... like a monster," she begged me with her eyes to understand, "it was still her face, but crueler, empty."

I opened my mouth to suggest that this whole thing had been built upon a play of shadows across someone's face.

Stasia held up her hand to silence me. "I know what I saw," she said fiercely. "If that had been all... well then perhaps we would have gone to bed and thought it all a trick of the light or our imagination. She was not alone in the room. There was another young woman, sitting in a chair before her. I did not recognize her. Her clothing was poor so she had not been attending the ball."

Her eyes bored into mine. "Cinderella was draining her blood. Her ankle was sliced open and the blood was pouring down into a glass container."

I felt a twinge of unease. This had better be all made up, because if not...

"It was the shape of a shoe," Stasia whispered. "We hid behind some tapestries too afraid to run away. The woman, she just _sat_ there. She was smiling. And then... then she was dead."

"And Cinderella?" I asked needing to hear the sanity of my own voice.

"She _drank_ the blood," Stasia said in horror. "And then she put the shoe on her foot. It was as if she was suddenly refreshed. Her hair looked fuller, her skin softer, her eyes brighter. She looked... younger. And then..." A single tear rolled down Stasia's cheek. "And then she called us to come forth. She had known we were there the entire time." She shuddered. "And she laughed."

My own heart was pounding in my chest. I really didn't want to believe this story, but something was ringing true. And if so, then Agnes could really be in trouble.

"The ladies-in-waiting," I said suddenly. "That's why we couldn't find Agnes' aunt."

Stasis pursed her lips. "They are chosen to die. To feed that demon."

I jumped to my feet, my brain racing a mile a minute. "Does the prince know?" I demanded.

Stasia shook her head. "He is completely in thrall."

"Fenris," I said. "What do you think?"

He growled softly. _:I think I have felt something wrong since we first arrived:_

"Then we have to find Agnes," I announced. "Before it's too late."

I was already shucking out of my ball gown and pulling on my leather pants. A few seconds more, my boots were laced and I was shrugging into Wilson's harness.

Stasia watched me with wide eyes. "You cannot defeat the demon," she whispered. "She is too powerful."

"We'll see about that," I snarled making sure I could smoothly pull out the sword. "Now, where is this room? Can you find it again?"

She shook her head, "She no longer drains them in the open. But I do know where they will be."

***

"I'm sorry," Stasia whispered. "I can go no farther."

She had led us down winding hallways and through secret passageways until we were standing at the top of a winding staircase that looked much like the one we had followed to find the step-sisters.

Stasia looked ashamed. "I am too afraid," she admitted.

I patted her arm. "It's okay," I reassured her. "We can take care of this."

I had Wilson in my hand, tingling with excitement, and a giant wolf at my side; I really did feel like I could take on anything. If you had told me last year that I would be running around in leather, swinging a weapon, and fighting alongside a talking animal, I would have thought you were crazy. Now, I was probably the one who was nuts.

"Are you ready?" I asked Fenris.

He gave me an enigmatic stare.

"This doesn't have to be your fight," I said reluctantly. I didn't know what I would do if he left me, but it didn't seem fair not to point out his options.

_:Agnes is my friend too:_ he reminded me.

"Let's do this then," I said with more courage than I felt.

I have to admit, I was still hoping this was one big misunderstanding. As we slipped down the stairs, me tiptoeing quietly, and Fenris ghosting along without a sound, I had no clue what I was going to do. Sure, I had trained a ton with Fenris, so I actually half knew what I was doing with a sword, but there's a reason it's called practice and not the real thing.

"I need your help," I mouthed silently to Wilson and felt a glimmer of hurt feelings in return.

"I know," I agreed. "I never should have left you behind. Can you forgive me?"

The sword remained still.

"I'm probably not going to make it out of this if you don't help," I pleaded. "I'll never ignore your warnings again."

There was a flash of a smirk and then the sword sparked eagerly in my hands, signaling its readiness for battle. I drew in a deep breath. At least one of us was ready.

The bottom of the stairs came far too soon. The stairwell opened up into a large underground cavern. Huge stone pillars sprang up to meet the rock ceiling, and I could hear the sound of running water. We were deep underneath the palace.

Fenris brushed my arm with his cold nose and I froze, straining to hear. I could pick up the murmur of a woman's voice coming from somewhere on the left. The pillars were obstructing my view, but they also offered good cover as we threaded our way towards the talking person.

I caught a glimpse of skirt and ducked back around the pillar I was hiding behind.

_:Up ahead_ : I sent to Fenris, thankful for all the time we had spent practicing our mental communication.

He sniffed the air quietly. _:It's the princess:_ he said with certainty. _:And Agnes:_

That convinced me. There was no rational reason that I could come up with for Agnes to be down here with Cinderella. At least, no pleasant reason.

_:Sneak up or run and attack?:_ I asked.

He stuck his head around the pillar and crawled forward on his belly.

_:As soon as you come around that pillar you will be visible:_ he informed me.

_:Shock and awe then:_ I said with a forced grin.

_:Ready whenever you are:_ he replied, sounding much more enthusiastic. _:By the way, I smell blood:_

I gulped. It was time to put a stop to this.

I jumped out from behind the pillar, Wilson held ready, and confronted the scene.

"Cinderella!" I screamed. "Stop!"

It took a brief second for me to figure out what was going on. If Stasia hadn't explained things beforehand, it might have taken me much longer.

Agnes was sitting in a chair, unbound, with a dreamy smile on her face. Cinderella was kneeling before her, holding one of her feet up as if she was preparing to help her into a shoe. She was, in fact, holding a shoe in her hand, a glass shoe, although at the moment it looked more like Dorothy's ruby slipper. It was filled with blood. Blood that was gushing from a huge slice across Agnes' ankle. Something had taken her foot half off and it hung grotesquely from a strip of skin and tendons.

As I burst upon them, Cinderella turned to face me, her features distorted into a mask of ugliness and greed. Her eyes were huge and red, with rectangular goat-like pupils. Her teeth were longer and wickedly pointed, and her skin was a sickly greenish rotting corpse color.

"Stop!" I yelled again, bringing the tip of my sword to her neck.

It didn't faze her at all. She laughed. The same laugh I had heard all week long. A sweet, tinkling bell sound and it made my skin crawl.

"Stop," I said again desperately. "Let her go."

Cinderella stood up slowly, letting Wilson's tip rest on her collarbone the whole time.

"I was planning to deal with you tomorrow," she smiled seductively. "I had no idea you were so eager."

"You let her go right now," I demanded, pressing the sword into her skin. "What have you done to Agnes?"

I risked a glance over at the sitting woman. She hadn't moved, her face still vague and unfocused, her foot now resting on the floor as blood pooled around it.

Cinderella smiled, "She is fine," she said in a sweet tones.

I felt the strength leave my arm and the sword tip dropped.

_:Guard your mind!:_ Fenris howled in my head.

He leapt from the shadows and stood snarling, a huge yellow-eyed slavering monster out of darkest nightmare. It was enough to distract Cinderella. I felt her attention waver for a moment and I snapped up my mental guards.

Lunging forward I tried to skewer the demon through her neck. I know the polite, heroic thing to do would be to discuss things with her, find out who she was, what she wanted, what kind of crimes she was guilty of, and after all that, I should offer to meet her in a fair fight.

Heroics usually get you killed. I wanted to be alive when this was all over, and so it was chop off her head now and ask questions later.

As fast as I moved, and I was fast, Cinderella was faster. Wilson sliced through thin air and Cinderella was three feet away, still smiling and still holding the bloody shoe in her hand.

"You have no idea what you are facing," she said in a sad voice. "I almost pity you."

Fenris struck without warning, his teeth slashing dangerously near her face. Once again she simply melted out of the way, but not before he snagged the fabric of her sleeve and ripped it off her gown.

Her face twisted even farther into rage. "Now look what you have done!" she shrieked.

I didn't wait for her to recover. I was there cutting in high with a feint and then twisting at the last minute to stab in the direction I guessed she would move. I was close, and a thin line of blood appeared on her arm.

"You will pay for this!" she screamed, her voice shaking the cavern.

Before I could attack again, she lifted the shoe to her lips and drank deeply.

# Chapter Twenty-Two

It was just like Stasia had described, one minute I was facing a monstrous demon, the next, Cinderella looked herself again, sweet, innocent, and lovely.

"Come, my dear," she smiled gently, "put down your sword. What is the cause of this strife between us? Have you forgotten my promise to send you home to your own realm?"

I paused, suddenly unsure about what was going on. She had been so good to me, and there was no one else who had the power to help me get out of here. Why was I attacking her?

Fenris slunk in from the side, his hackles raised, his teeth bared, and a bone shaking growl emanating from his throat.

"Control your beast, Godmother," Cinderella said sharply, giving the N'jeri a nervous glance. "There is no need for violence between friends."

I had just begun to lower my blade when I noticed the smallest drop of blood still clinging to the corner of her lips. I was thrown into my memories, taken back to facing down another woman who laughed and drank blood and was definitely _not_ my friend.

The princess noticed when my face hardened. She frowned prettily.

"My way was going to be so much easier," she complained, and then she turned and fled.

My first instinct was to chase her down but I hadn't gotten more than a few yards into the columns when I remembered why I had come. To save Agnes.

"Fenris!" I yelled, not wanting him to continue the chase alone.

_:She is getting away!:_ he howled in my mind.

"Agnes!" I yelled even louder, both calling her and reminding Fenris of her condition.

I felt his resolve falter as he decided to rejoin me. The blood had pooled around the base of the chair, a sparkling, ruby surface that glistened in the torch light. The outer edges were turning dark and tacky and there seemed to be more blood than an entire body could hold.

"Agnes?" I whispered, my heart in my throat.

I didn't want to step in her blood, but there was no other way. It was slippery and clung to my boots and my stomach turned over in revulsion.

"Agnes?" I asked again.

Her eyes were still open, the same smile on her face. I gently placed my fingers on the side of her neck and waited. Nothing.

"Agnes!" I cried, shaking her a bit.

Her head rolled to one side and she slumped in the chair, eyes still staring blankly ahead.

Tears began to fill my eyes, but I placed my ear on her chest, trying to detect signs of the life that so clearly had departed.

_:Morgan:_ Fenris said urgently.

"She can't be dead!" I wailed. "We can't have been too late!"

_:Morgan!:_ he barked.

I looked down to her mangled foot, the severed tendons and bone visible now that her heart had stopped pumping blood. A solitary drop fell to the pool beneath, leaving behind an empty shell.

"No!" I screamed, my throat tight with tears.

_:Morgan:_ Fenris said again, and he was beside me, his massive jaws closing painfully on my arm.

"What?" I snarled.

_:You cannot bring Agnes back:_ he said harshly.

"I know." I jerked free of his grip. "She's gone."

_:But her murderer is still free:_ he reminded me.

My head snapped up. The wolf was right. Cinderella had killed my friend, and Cinderella would pay.

I hated to leave Agnes sitting there in that cold, damp cave, but there was no time for ceremony and mourning. Hopefully we would return and be able to treat her with the respect she deserved, but justice was now more important than sentiment.

We ran towards the stairs, Fenris' nose following the demon princess without trouble. Up the flights of stairs we flew. I hardly felt the jarring of my body as my feet pounded the steps. I was focused on one thing only, catching Cinderella and killing her.

She led us to a quieter section of the palace. At this time of night there were few servants about to stare in surprise as we dashed by, a wild-eyed, bloody-booted woman and her gigantic wolf.

Even with her head start, Cinderella's royal gowns were slowing her down. We caught her in a long hallway, still clutching her glass shoe in her hand.

"Cinderella!" I shrieked after her in rage.

She paused in her flight, realizing that we were gaining on her. Crouching low, she readied for our attack, her teeth once more growing long and deadly sharp.

I saved my breath and sprinted ahead, Wilson as ready as I was to cleave her head from her shoulders. Fenris flew beside me, his body low and long.

He reached her first, leaping with a mighty spring of muscle. She ducked quickly to the side, raking him with razor sharp nails, cradling the shoe to her side.

I hacked downwards in anger, forgetting form and speed in my desire to split her from head to toe. She caught my hand on the sword handle and twisted it away, throwing my body into the wall. She was insanely strong and fast and for the first time I was worried that the two of us couldn't take her.

Fenris had skidded on the stone floor, regained his footing and was now charging again from behind. Fast as a cobra strike, Cinderella ghosted to the side, kicking him in the ribs with the sound of crunching bone. Fenris let out a yelp and smashed into the far wall.

I managed to pick myself up and approached with more care. My blade flickered in and out, Wilson and I moving in perfect rhythm with each other, but she was always a step ahead, deflecting or simply sidestepping my cuts. I felt my arm growing weary and Cinderella noticed it as well.

She stepped back quickly, laughing merrily like we had just finished a friendly game.

"You are no match for me, Morgan," she said.

I stood there panting, trying to come up with some witty rejoinder, but settled for simply screaming and leaping forward as fast as I could. Cinderella hadn't been prepared for my attack and I caught her a sharp blow that, had she not dodged at the last moment, would have decapitated her.

She shrieked in agony, trying to staunch the flow of bright red blood that gushed from her shoulder to drench her dress. I was weary to the point of passing out on my feet, but I followed up on my advantage. The demon princess was too injured to keep up the fight, and within moments I had sent her silly glass shoe skittering across the floor and she lay at my feet, Wilson's tip digging into the base of her throat.

"Who's no match for who now?" I asked in triumph, thrilled that I had finally come up with something snarky to say.

She looked up at me and smiled. A freaky, I-belong-in-an-insane-asylum sort of smile. The kind of smile that says there's nobody home and whatever has moved in is _not_ nice.

I trembled, but held firm. I wasn't going to run screaming from the room just because of someone's freaky facial expression.

The problem was, I didn't know what to do. Should I kill her? I could have happily done so in the midst of the fight. But now that she was defeated, it seemed... wrong. Wilson didn't share my ethical dilemma and I was actually having to pull back a bit on the hilt to keep from driving the blade home.

"I'm going to turn you over to the authorities," I said, feeling less confident of myself.

She laughed merrily, blood spurting forth with the pressure. "Oh, Morgan!" she cried. "You are too much! The authorities? I _am_ the authority here." She glanced up over my shoulder. "Guards! Kill her!" she called loudly.

Fenris saved my life. Cinderella's kick had thrown him out of the action, but he collected himself in time to knock against my side, moving me almost out the way of the barbed arrow that came whistling down the hallway.

It struck into the fleshy part of my arm, and it was my turn to scream.

"Kill her!" Cinderella yelled again, dragging herself away down the hall, leaving a wide smear of blood behind, like a gory slug.

She clutched her glass shoe to her chest and sank down against the wall, watching me with malevolent eyes.

_:Run!:_ Fenris howled, bumping me away from the pack of guards who were racing down the hallway towards us.

Another three arrows hissed past my head, one slicing a shallow cut across my cheek. I slid Wilson back into his sheath, not sure that I had the strength to hang on to him much longer. Then, as another arrow imbedded itself into the wall by my head, I raced after Fenris.

He was limping badly and leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind him.

"Kill them both!" I heard the princess cry behind us. "Do not let them escape!"

We turned down another hallway, arrows thudding into the wainscoting behind us. Then Fenris led the way through an open door, across a wide hall, through another smaller door and then up a staircase.

We had come to the main part of the palace. Tall plants were shielding us for the moment, but as soon as we stepped out we would be instantly spotted by the castle guards who were on alert and patrolling the area. I could just make out the great front doors, as well as the twenty armed men standing in front of them.

"We'll never make it through there," I whispered to the wolf.

He whined gently and licked my hand.

"I'm so sorry, Fenris," I told him. "Are you badly hurt?"

He whined again and kept watching the great foyer.

The arrow was still stuck in my arm and throbbing painfully. I tugged at it gently and almost passed out from the pain. The tip had passed all the way through and I could see the arrowhead protruding through the skin on the other side.

Fenris reached out with his massive jaws and neatly severed the arrow right behind the tip, allowing me to pull it smoothly from my arm. Tears were streaming down my cheeks by the time I finished, but at least it wasn't knocking against things any more.

"What do we do now?" I asked quietly, ripping off my sleeve to tie it tight around the wound and bending to examine Fenris' bloody side.

He growled and snapped at my hand.

"You're hurt," I snapped back.

_:And there is nothing to be done about it right now:_ he snarled. _:Focus on getting out of here alive:_

I studied the door, peeking out from behind the plant pots.

"We need a distraction," I said finally. That's what they always did in the movies.

Fenris gave me a yellow-eyed glare.

"We do!" I protested. "If all the guards ran off to see something, then we could slip out the front door!"

Fenris snorted. _:And if you could make us invisible we could just walk out with no distraction:_

"Yes," I allowed, "but I can't do that."

_:Exactly:_ he huffed.

"There!" I heard someone yell. "Over there!"

He was pointing at our plant screen.

"I don't think we need a distraction anymore," I said. "We need to run."

The guards ran towards us, swords out, bows drawn. There was no way we could fight them off. The only choice was back the way we had come.

I could hear Fenris' breath rasping in his chest as he limped hurriedly along, and I began to panic, trying to take odd turns and lose our pursuers. It was no good. The soldiers were hot on our heels, and I started to feel like we were being herded like rabbits into a trap.

Our choices shrank as every avenue of escape filled with more guards chasing us down. The entire palace guard must have been trying to catch us. At last, there was nowhere to turn. We were trapped in a vaguely familiar looking hallway. Soldiers on either side, at least twenty arrows pointed at our hearts.

There was no way we were making it out of here alive. Since I was going to die, I might at least make it worthwhile. I shifted Wilson from hand to hand and felt his eagerness to taste blood.

_:Get ready for that distraction:_ I said mentally to Fenris.

_:What?:_ he asked.

_:Get ready to run:_ I told him, and then, before he could question further, I leaped towards the nearest group of men.

My plan was to cut down enough of them so that Fenris could break through the circle and escape. That way at least one of us would make it. _Someone_ had to stop Cinderella, and I wanted to give Fenris a fighting chance.

As plans go, it wasn't a great one, and it was doomed from the start. I took down the first guard, but three arrows thudded into my chest, introducing me to a world of pain beyond imagining. I swung wildly, connecting with a second guard more by luck than skill, and a fourth arrow punctured my thigh, driving me down to one knee.

" _Run!"_ I screamed to Fenris, who I could see still standing behind me.

He sent me a myriad of emotions, each flowing over my mind in quick succession: anger, frustration, pride, love, determination. And then with a mighty leap, he cleared the circle of guards and disappeared down the hallway, arrows flying uselessly behind him.

I stabbed upwards again, wanting to keep everyone occupied with me so as to give Fenris all the time he needed to get away. The last thing I saw was the hilt of a guard's sword come crashing down into my face and then everything went black.

***

I awoke in agony, every inch of my body screaming in pain. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to cough, it hurt to lay still, it hurt to move. I was adrift in a sea of misery and it took several minutes before I collected myself enough to be able to focus on my surroundings.

I was lying on a stone floor in what appeared to be a small cell. There was no window and the only light came from the narrow grill in the door. There was a bucket of water in the corner and that was it. No blanket, no cot, no toilet. The Hilton it was not.

The arrows had been removed from my body and my wounds dressed. One particularly deep one was still oozing sticky blood down the front of my mangled shirt. The right side of my face was swollen, my eye forced shut and caked with blood. I gingerly felt around my teeth and found that while none were missing, a few were loose.

I lay there for a while, cataloguing my injuries and wondering how quickly I would die. Without an emergency room I wasn't rating my chances of survival very high. There was a grating sound in my chest when I coughed and I was fairly certain I had one, if not more, broken ribs.

Then I realized that, medical attention aside, my life was destined to be short. I had attacked the princess of this realm and had failed. The memory of Agnes' poor body flashed across my mind and I felt tears leak down my face, leaving tracks in the dried blood.

_:Fenris?:_ I called loudly in my mind.

I wasn't sure what I hoped. I wanted him to be far away from here. Too far to hear me. Too far to be caught. But I also wanted to hear his voice. To know that I wasn't alone.

I waited a bit, listening to the air whistling in my chest and called a few more times before giving up in despair and joy. At least my sacrifice hadn't been totally in vain.

I had really botched things up. I hadn't killed the demon. I hadn't saved Agnes. I hadn't escaped. And I had no backup plan. Fenris' freedom was my one ray of comfort.

The stone floor grew so uncomfortable that I had to move. I tried to prop myself up against the wall and almost screamed aloud at the pain. After several horrific minutes in which I broke out in a cold sweat and my whole body shook, I finally levered into a sitting position.

My hand touched something on the floor and I shrank back in alarm. The torchlight from the hall cast barely enough light to see the corners of the cell and the floor was in darkness making everything seem threatening and scary.

I forced myself to feel again and my fingers closed on the hilt of a sword.

"Wilson!" I said aloud, my voice sounding rusty and old.

The sword quivered in my hand, sending a wave of heat and comfort up my arm. It was like an electric shock, a blissful cessation of pain that made the returning agony a thousand times worse.

"Don't do that again," I gasped. "I know you're trying to help... but don't."

I clutched him to my chest, happy that at least one friend had been left me. My befuddled brain tried to figure out why I had been left a weapon. It seemed a dangerous thing to leave a prisoner, but in my debilitated state I supposed I wasn't a threat to anyone. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure that leaving me my sword was an insult, a reminder of just how helpless and of no account I was.

I had no idea how long I was in the cell, or how long I had been unconscious. All I knew was the torture of each breath and the realization that dying now would likely be the best option I could hope for.

# Chapter Twenty-Three

It felt like an eternity passed in that cell. At one point I managed to crawl towards the bucket of water for a drink. I passed out several times on the journey and when I arrived my shaky hands dumped half the contents on my shirt.

I lay in the quickly cooling puddle and shivered and cried and wished for death. Anything to end the torment. My torque dug painfully into my collarbone and I cursed the magic that had brought me here. The useless, stupid magic that could free a trapped ghost but couldn't protect me from harm, or help me escape.

From there I went on to cursing my own stupidity. I had acted like this was one big game. I was playing the part of the adventurous, swashbuckling heroine who fought monsters with a smile and could restart any level if I died. Even my favorite leather pants were just another costume, a way for me to feel more in "character." Now they would be my burial clothes.

With these and other such cheery thoughts I wiled away the hours, until at last I heard footsteps approaching down the hallway. I tried to pull myself to my feet so as to meet my fate with dignity, but the effort was too much.

The cell door opened, two guards entered and pulled me roughly to my feet. The broken edges of my ribs grated together with the movement and I blacked out in pain. I came to moments later as they half-carried, half-dragged me down the hallway. The rest of the journey was a blur of screaming pain separated by blissful seconds of unconsciousness.

My weary brain began to make some sense of where we were going and I tried to struggle. I had no desire to descend again into Cinderella's blood draining cavern. My efforts were feeble and the ensuing pain caused my mind to flee my body again.

When I opened my eyes, I was being manhandled into the same wooden chair that Agnes had died in. Leather straps were secured around my wrists and ankles.

"No!" I cried, my breath gurgling in my lungs.

The only reply I received was a blow from a guard's fist.

"Now, now," said a gentle voice. "That's no way to treat our honored guest."

My blurry vision cleared enough for me to see Cinderella standing before me, smiling sweetly down on my mangled body and looking fresh and whole, no evidence visible of our fight.

"You," I hissed.

"Yes, me, my dear," she replied calmly, her tiny hands reaching up to stroke the smooth skin above her neckline. "Why? Did you think you had really _harmed_ me?" She laughed merrily. "How simply charming!"

I noticed Wilson lying on the ground next to the chair. The guards must have brought the sword with us, since I certainly hadn't possessed the strength or the presence of mind to hold on to it.

"Hand me my sword and I'll show you how charming I can be," I gritted out, frustrated that I was too weak to grab the blade even without the restraints.

The demon princess clapped her hands. "Brave to the end! I am very much looking forward to eating your soul."

I blinked. Eating my _what_?

Cinderella turned to the guards. "Leave us," she ordered.

"But, your highness," one protested. "This woman tried to kill you!"

She touched his arm tenderly. "Have no concern," she assured him. "I shall be quite safe."

He gave her a look of abject devotion and we were soon alone in the echoing cavern, the sound of their departing footsteps quickly lost in the mutter of the underground river.

"Now, where we were we?" Cinderella asked, turning back to me.

"You were going to eat my soul," I said coolly.

"Yes," she agreed. "I beg your pardon for making you wait so long. I did fear that you might die before having a chance to be useful to me."

"Wouldn't that have been a crying shame," I said with a tight smile.

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes," she snapped, "it would have been. I was forced to be most harsh with the guards who injured you so badly. Their enthusiasm has been curbed."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I'm only sorry I wasn't able to kill more of them."

Her fingers tapped lightly on her arm. "You have made a nuisance of yourself."

"But my real regret," I said bitterly, "was that I didn't kill you when I had the chance."

She laughed again. "But my dear," she cooed, "you _never_ had the chance."

Something outside the cavern caught her attention and she stared up at the ceiling, lips parted and breathing heavily in excitement.

"Ah!" she moaned. "It is now time!"

"Time for what?" I asked, struggling against my bonds.

Cinderella licked her lips in anticipation. "It is midnight," she explained, pulling out a silver knife, dangerously sharp. "The hour when one day pours out its life into the next."

"What are you going to do?" I hated that my voice quavered.

"My dear, Morgan," she smiled at me. "I must feed. You do not think this," she gestured at herself, "comes naturally, do you? I need souls and you were so rude as to deny me my complete meal last night."

"Her name was Agnes, _demon_ ," I spat out angrily.

The princess shrugged. "Such names! Perhaps I _am_ a demon." For a moment her eyes flashed red and her face twisted before smoothing back out into loveliness. "But I restrict myself to one maiden a year. Is that too much for a kingdom to give its princess? I think I am being more than generous."

"You're insane, _demon_ ," I said again, hoping to anger her. "If the people of this kingdom knew what you were they would be marching on the palace with pitchforks and torches."

She shook her head. "And there would be fire and bloodshed. Hundreds would die. No, my way is much kinder."

"You mean cowardly," I sneered. "What? You couldn't get a man on your own? You had to resort to stealing other people's beauty to make yourself presentable? Too bad you're still fat and ugly."

"I am _beautiful_!" she snarled at me.

I raised one eyebrow. "If that's what you have to tell yourself."

"I am the most beautiful woman in the whole realm!" she shrieked. "All say this is true!"

"Well, yeah," I said sarcastically. "Who's going to tell the princess that she's chubby and has a double chin?"

Her hand flew to her throat. With visible effort she calmed herself.

"You are merely trying to make me angry," she said in a strained voice. "Your words are lies."

I heard a faint click and my heart leapt into my throat. I knew what had made the sound. It was a claw tapping on the stone floor. Oh, why hadn't he listened to me and run away?

"So," I said loudly, trying to cover up any other noises Fenris might be making. "How does this soul eating thing work?"

She knelt gracefully at my feet, unstrapping the bonds from one foot and slowly untying the laces on my boot.

"The soul is in the blood," she explained, like we were talking about the weather. "It must be slowly drained from one end of the body in order to make sure that it is completely extracted."

I heard the sound of fur brushing against a stone column.

"Why not the head?" I asked quickly.

She frowned, cute little lines appearing on her forehead.

"I have tried the neck," she said seriously, "but the body dies too quickly. Much of the soul's potency is lost."

"How sad for you," I said dryly.

"The foot is much better," she agreed. "It allows the blood to slowly drain, and doesn't interfere with breathing."

"How nice," I said between clenched teeth.

She gently slid the boot off my leg letting out the stench of unwashed socks drenched in sweat. Her nose wrinkled distastefully.

"Sorry," I said snidely. "I didn't have time to take a shower today."

"A shower?" she asked puzzled.

"Never mind."

She traced a line down my ankle sending shivers down my spine. My skin crawled with even the thought of her touch. I had been waiting for this moment, when she was distracted and didn't have two hands on my leg.

I kicked upwards with all the force I could muster, connecting solidly with her face and knocking her backwards. She sprawled on the ground in a puddle of filmy skirts and licked blood away from her busted lip.

She didn't get angry, which concerned me. Instead she stood and leaned over the chair, her head close to mine, her breath hot on my face. Before my very eyes the split on her lower lip closed up, completely healed.

"I can be hurt, dear Morgan," she crooned. "But I cannot be killed."

In my peripheral vision I saw the glint of torchlight reflecting off a metal collar. Cinderella noticed my widened eyes and started to swivel her head to look. I bashed my head forward, smashing into her perfect nose.

It exploded in a fountain of blood and she fell back, screaming in agony. But within seconds, as before, it healed and she stood shakily to her feet.

"Look at my gown!" she shrieked at me in anger.

It was stained with blood. I smiled wearily.

"Guess you need a fairy godmother to dress you for the ball," I quipped, the movement sending shocks of pain across my cheekbones. I might have damaged her for a minute, but I had injured myself as well.

"Once you die," she spat at me, "I will no longer need a _godmother_."

She grabbed my foot, no pretense of gentleness in her motions and began the slash that would slice into my ankle.

It was at that moment that Fenris hit her. Hundreds of pounds of angry fur and muscle connected solidly with her slight frame, sending both of them rolling across the floor and knocking my chair over in the process.

I couldn't see much of the ensuing fight. I was face down into the stone floor, my neck almost snapping from the weight of my body and the chair. I heard snarling and screaming and the sounds of bodies striking each other with vicious intent.

By twisting my head farther than I would have thought possible I could see Wilson lying close but yet impossibly out of reach. I tried calling him to my hand like Luke Skywalker, but the force was not with me.

I then tried rocking the chair, although each movement brought tears to my eyes. I managed to flip the chair so that my bound hand was near the sharp blade tip. Wiggling my fingers I pulled it closer until it was wedged between my wrist and the leather strap.

There was a loud snarling sound and running footsteps followed a drawn out howl.

Ignoring the skin that parted under the edge, I worked the sword until the strap was cut through, then it was but a moment before I was completely free and pulling myself to my feet.

Fenris and Cinderella were locked in combat, her wild face and eyes more animal than the wolf's. For all their size difference she was holding her own, and as I moved towards them she gave the N'jeri a blow that drove him back.

"Guards!" she cried in a loud voice that echoed in the cavern. "Guards!"

I heard the sound of pounding feet and knew that it was over. We had been defeated before when we were fresh and whole. Now I had barely enough strength to stand, and there was no escape for Fenris.

"Fenris!" I cried in anguish, trying to apologize in one word for my failure.

He whirled on two legs and loped towards me, his huge paws eating up the ground. Behind him I could see Cinderella's smile. She knew that she had won.

"Fenris!" I said again, expecting him to slow and stand beside me so that we could at least die together.

But he kept coming, faster and faster, until his shoulder struck my middle and I was carried across the floor with the momentum. His jaws closed on my arm, somehow pulling my body to rest on top of him as he continued to run.

There was nowhere to go, I thought. The only exit was pouring armed soldiers into the cavern, their bows drawn and ready, waiting for the word to fire. But I had forgotten one thing.

With a final leap Fenris left the ground, leaving the cavern behind us as we plunged down into the forceful underground river. The freezing water closed over my head as we were swept with blinding speed towards the hole where the water rushed back into the rock.

I had time for one last gasp of air before I was dragged under, buffeted by the strong current and carried deep underground.

# Chapter Twenty-Four

I remember being cold. Not just chilled, but frozen down to the bone. So cold that I could barely feel each time my body smashed against the sides or roof of the underground river. I remember my lungs screaming for air. Knowing that I _had_ to breathe, but that if I opened my mouth all that would fill my lungs would be liquid death.

It was completely dark and I had lost hold of Fenris in the initial plunge into the icy water. Now I was alone, swept along in the powerful current and going to drown long before any of my other injuries could kill me.

I tried to comfort myself with the thought that drowning was a fairly quick and painless way to go, and then I could stand it no longer and tried to breathe the water around me.

***

I came back slowly to the world. The first thing I felt was warmth radiating from my feet and surrounding me in soft, billowy clouds. I stretched luxuriantly and the blankets around me shifted. I could feel the weight of multiple covers weighing me down.

The next thing I noticed was harder to define. It was a pleasant feeling, and vaguely familiar, yet wrong somehow, like something was missing. I just couldn't figure out what it was. I decided to open my eyes and sit up and with the movement I realized what was gone. There was no pain.

My eyes flew open wider and felt wildly around my body. I was naked under the blankets, except for one wide swath of linen that was wrapping my middle. I prodded my skin. If I was remembering things correctly, it seemed that there should be way more bandages, or at least scars... scabs... something?

Wrapping a woolen blanket firmly around myself, I swung my legs out of bed and promptly crumpled to the floor.

***

I dreamed I was back at my little castle in the woods. The place I had destroyed with my godmother magic. The hallways were empty but I could hear whisperings, muttering behind every door.

I was searching for something, flinging open closets, looking behind paintings on the wall. I found the library and began pulling books off the shelves, the writing just as foreign to me now as before.

"There must be a way to kill her!" I yelled in frustration, flinging a leather bound volume against the wall.

There is, someone said behind me.

***

_:Malingerer:_ a rough voice said in my head, sounding playful yet relived.

I rolled over stiffly and opened bleary eyes. I was back in bed again.

"Fenris?" I asked, my voice sounding like sandpaper.

A warm tongue shot out and bathed my face in slobber.

"Ewww! Disgusting!" I complained from habit, fending off another doggy kiss.

_:About time:_ he sighed, hot breath gusting up my nose.

"What have you been eating?" I griped.

He grinned, a wide toothy sneer.

I propped myself up on one elbow, more cautious this time around.

"Where are we?" I asked.

The room was a strange one and the last thing I remembered was the palace cavern. I hissed aloud and Fenris looked worried.

:Are you in pain? Shall I call for Joan?:

"Joan," I repeated stupidly. "Joan?"

I looked around the room again. I could hear the sounds of chickens and other barnyard animals along with the rushing sound of water.

"We're at Thomas and Joan's farm?" I asked incredulously.

Fenris lay his huge head on the bed and I scratched him between the ears.

"How long have I been out?" I asked, fear clenching my heart. I knew it had to be a long time. My wounds had been many and serious. They would have taken weeks to heal. Maybe longer. I dreaded hearing that I had slept through months of my life.

_:Four days:_ Fenris replied, watching me through half-lidded eyes.

"Four days!" I echoed in disbelief.

He blinked in affirmation.

"But how?" I quickly ran my tongue around the outside of my teeth. They were all there, none loose.

"How?" I demanded again. "I should be dead!"

_:I know:_ he said concerned. _:Are you still in any pain?:_

My mind was rushing around like a squirrel trying to cross a busy street. "Wilson!" I yelped aloud. "I lost Wilson!"

I couldn't believe the feeling of sorrow that accompanied the thought. After all, he... _it_ was just a piece of metal. But I felt like an old friend had died.

Fenris barked. _:You'll excuse me if I don't touch Caroban-Ubica again, but I did manage to save it from the river:_ He ran a tongue around the outside of his teeth. _:At great pains to myself, I might add:_ The giant wolf pointed with his nose to the far side of the bed.

"Wilson!" I cried joyfully, leaning out of the bed to scoop up the sword. "You made it!" I could have sworn I felt a reciprocal sense of joy.

"But, how did we get here?" I asked, still puzzled. "How did I heal so quickly? How—"

"Oh, you're awake!" Joan entered the room. "Fenris, I told you to let her rest!"

The small woman put her fists on her ample hips and scolded the giant wolf like a puppy. Fenris slunk to the floor, ears drooping, and whined apologetically.

"Out! Out!" she shooed him towards the door. "The godmother needs to sleep."

Fenris stuck his tail between his legs and left without complaint.

"Now, lay back," Joan said, fluffing the pillow behind my back and pulling the covers up about my neck. She firmly took the sword out of my hand and placed it back beside the bed. "You won't be needing that here," she scolded.

"Wait!" I cried after her as she turned to leave. "Please, I have so many questions!"

She sighed and twisted her apron. "You really need to sleep, my lady."

"I can't sleep!" I protested. "I've got to know what's going on. Why am I not dead?"

Joan perched on the edge of the bed. "You almost were," she said seriously. "I tried to warn you. You never should have gone to the ball!"

I had to admit she was right; going to the ball hadn't been so great for my health. Agnes had died. Fenris had almost been killed. I _should_ be dead...

I shook my head. "I'm glad I went," I said firmly. "Someone has to stand up to Cinderella. There has to be a way to stop her!"

Joan looked down. "There is no way to stop her," she whispered. "She is immortal. Anyone who has ever stood up to her has died."

I sat up and grabbed Joan's hand. "Why didn't I die, Joan?"

She looked around the room, not meeting my eyes. "I... I was able to heal you. I have a... small gift. The river brought you to our door," she explained. "I had no choice but to help you."

I gave her hand a squeeze. "You didn't have to help us," I said gently. "You've put yourself in great danger."

Joan gave a small shrug. "I could not turn away people in need."

"You know that Cinderella is probably looking for us," I said thoughtfully. "Unless she thinks we're dead... we can't stay here any longer."

Joan laid a hand on my arm. "No, my lady. You will be safe here until you regain your strength. The princess' men have already come through asking about a wounded woman and her giant dog. Thomas told them we had seen nothing."

I felt my eyes pricking with tears of gratitude.

"I don't know how to thank you, Joan," I said.

"No thanks are necessary," she smiled. "If one is given a magical ability, then it must be used for good."

She stood up, "Now, you still require rest. Magical healing takes a great toll on the body's strength. You need your sleep. When you are ready we will give you a horse and provisions for your journey."

"Journey?" I asked sleepily, lying back in bed.

"Yes," Joan said. "You must leave this kingdom. It is no longer safe for you here."

As I drifted off to sleep I thought about her words.

***

I dreamed again of my castle library. I was flipping through pages, trying to decipher the writings to no avail, getting more and more frustrated. Someone kept pulling on my arm, yelling at me that I had to leave and I knew they were right. I had to give up, but yet... something kept me opening book after book, hoping for an answer.

At last I realized that I was dreaming and felt myself starting to awake, but just on the border of sleep and wakefulness I heard a voice saying, I have the answers you seek.

***

It was several days later. I was sitting out behind the farmhouse, wrapped in a woolen blanket and enjoying the feel of sunlight on my face. Fenris lay at my feet, warming my toes which were tucked into his fur.

Joan and Thomas were gracious hosts but I could tell that they were growing more nervous with each passing day. They were ready for us to be safely on our way. Truth be told, I was feeling much better; my side no longer twinged in pain and I could walk around without getting dizzy and faint.

"Fenris?" I said.

He let out a snuffly snort.

"Fenris!" I poked him with my foot.

He yawned, smacking huge jaws.

"Fenris!" I said again.

_:Yes?:_ he asked sleepily.

"Joan and Thomas want us to leave," I said.

He lifted his head and looked at me. _:Are you ready to leave?:_

I frowned. Leaving the kingdom seemed like the smart thing to do. But... where would we go?

"I was talking with Joan the other day," I said slowly.

Fenris went after an itch with his teeth.

"Pay attention," I snapped, poking him again.

He growled softly and I tucked my feet up underneath me.

"Anyway," I sniffed. "She said she healed me because if you have a magical ability then you should use it for good."

Fenris gave me a blank look.

"Well," I stumbled on. "I was thinking... _I_ have a magical ability... sort of."

Fenris didn't even blink.

"I can't run away!" I burst out. "I can't just leave knowing that more people are going to die because of that... that... demon!"

_:That immortal demon:_ Fenris stressed.

I hugged my knees. "Yeah, I know, but that doesn't change anything."

_:You almost died the last time you challenged Cinderella:_ Fenris stated the obvious.

"Yes," I said. "But... I keep having these dreams..."

:Dreams?:

I waved a hand in the air. "Dreams. About the castle we destroyed. The godmother's castle. I'm looking for a way to defeat Cinderella and then this voice says that it has the answer."

:Which is?:

I groaned in exasperation. "I don't know! I wake up!"

Fenris lay his head back down. _:It's just a dream:_ he yawned.

"No," I insisted. "I don't think so. It feels... more real somehow... like I've heard this person's voice before..."

Fenris stretched to his feet.

_:Then you need to stay asleep:_ he pointed out.

I made a face.

_:Joan might have some herbs:_ Fenris said, sniffing the air. _:I'm going for a run:_

"Fenris!" I called after him. "Wait a sec!"

He looked back over his shoulder, eager to race around the fields.

"If we... if I... if there is a way to defeat Cinderella...?" I trailed off.

_:Then we go back and destroy her:_ he said simply.

***

I lay on my back, staring up at the wooden beams in the ceiling. Nighttime was approaching and the room was growing dark. I could hear the buzzing of a solitary moth playing with death around the open flame of the candle. Outside, owls were beginning to awake and call mysteriously to their friends and neighbors.

I wiggled around a bit, trying to get more comfortable and Fenris let out a soft whine from the floor.

_:Go to sleep:_ he suggested.

"It's not that easy!" I whined. "In fact, it's harder now that I know I _need_ to go to sleep!"

_:Just close your eyes and fall asleep:_ the great wolf said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. For him it probably was. I'd seen him drift off while standing on all four paws.

_:Do you want some more tea?:_ he asked.

I made a face. The first cup of sleeping tea that Joan had concocted for me had been vile. I really didn't want another.

I tried my left side. The blankets were pulling against my waist just enough to be annoying and I had an itch on my leg that I'd have to sit up to reach.

"Sleeeeep," I muttered to myself. "Sleeeeep!"

I heard Fenris yawning and giving himself a scratch.

"You're not helping," I informed him.

He yawned again.

I flipped over to my right side, the blankets pleasantly cool. I just needed to wait myself out. I slept every night. This night should be no different.

I decided to pass the time by following the grain of the wood with my eyes. It looped and swirled and dead-ended into massive knots. Each design was completely unique and yet echoed the ones that came before...

I was walking through the godmother's castle again. The hallways were empty and echoed with my footsteps. I was still searching for something and I took the route again to the library.

The shelves looked just as I had remembered them. Leather bound books in orderly rows, filling the walls from floor to ceiling. I picked up a book at random and flipped through the pages, the writing still indecipherable.

You seek a way to kill the demon princess, a voice said behind me.

"Yes!" I cried, turning around. There was no one there. "Hello?" I called. "Hello? Are you there? How do I kill Cinderella?"

There was a wisp of fog growing in the center of the room. It seeped in from the bookshelves and walls and gathered into the shape of a man. I suddenly realized who had been trying to talk to me.

"Steve!" I greeted him happily. "Is that you?"

The young man's ghostly face appeared at head height and he stared through me with blank eyes.

It is I, he replied.

"But what are you still doing here?" I asked, worried. "Did the spell not work? Are you still trapped?"

I heard your need, he said in sepulchral tones. I have come to repay the debt that is owed you.

"You don't owe me anything," I protested. "I was happy to help all of you."

Nevertheless, the debt must be paid, he said. Ask your question.

"You mean, how do I kill Cinderella?" I asked. "She's immortal, but everyone has to have a weakness, right? Kryptonite, claustrophobia, fire, umm ..." I tried to think back to my comic book reading youth.

Steve the ghost gave me a see-through look that seemed annoyed while still being blank.

"Never mind," I mumbled. "How can I kill Cinderella?"

He turned his head slightly to stare off in another direction.

The demon protects her heart in crystal, he said. While her heart is outside her body and whole she cannot be killed. You must first destroy her heart; then you can kill the demon.

"Her heart is not in her body?" I wondered. "But, how..."

Steve looked intense. The demon will know when her heart is destroyed. You must destroy it in her presence. otherwise, you might fail to kill the demon.

I saw the room around me begin to fade. I was waking up. "Wait!" I cried. "Where is the heart?"

The heart is protected by fire, plant, hoof, and wing, was the reply.

"What?" I yelped. "What does _that_ mean? Don't go!"

I ran forward, trying to grab the ghost and hold on to my dream, but instead I was sitting up in bed, gasping for breath and yelling, "Wait!"

***

_:That's it?:_ Fenris asked. _:That's all he said?:_

"There wasn't really time for any more," I said forlornly.

_:I told you to drink more of the tea:_ the wolf pointed out.

I gave him a regal glare.

"At least we know she can be killed," I said, trying to look on the bright side. "We just have to figure out where she keeps her heart."

_:A crystal heart:_ Fenris mused.

I slapped my forehead. "The shoe!" I yelped. "The glass slipper! How could I have missed it! She was draining peoples 'souls,'" I put the word in finger quotes, "into her glass shoe. Glass. Crystal. It _has_ to be her heart! That's why she held on to it the whole time we were fighting and chasing her through the palace. She was protecting it!"

_:She was protecting her soul:_ Fenris sniggered. _:Get it? Sole?:_

I refused to reward him with even the ghost of a smile.

"Now we just need to find where she keeps it when she's not murdering people," I said seriously, feeling hope that this might not be as crazy an undertaking as it seemed.

_:Fire, plant, hoof, and wing:_ Fenris repeated Steve's words. _:He couldn't have been any more cryptic could he? Why not throw in some rhyming lines of poetry with hidden and double meanings that's missing the last half of the instructions?:_

I had to agree with him. "Yeah," I sighed. "If he were trying so hard to get a message to me, you would have thought he'd make the message a bit more clear."

I yawned deeply. It was late.

"Let's sleep on it," I suggested. "Maybe things will make more sense in the morning."

# Chapter Twenty-Five

We were on the road back to the palace. Joan and Thomas had been horrified at our plan, but after hours of imploring us to change our minds, they finally relented and supplied me with a long cloak for disguise, provisions for the road, and a new pair of boots, seeing that half of my last pair was still residing in Cinderella's cavern.

Fenris was a little harder to hide, but his superior hearing allowed him to duck into the woods whenever we heard approaching hoof-beats. Three groups of guards had passed without so much as a second glance and I was beginning to feel more confident of reaching the palace undetected.

Since we were on foot, the journey was a bit longer than it had been previously, which I didn't mind. I still had no clue where Cinderella kept her glass slipper. I doubted that she carried it around with her on an everyday basis. The only reason I had seen it was because it was somehow necessary for her murderous soul stealing.

I made a small fire that night, far off from the road, and Fenris allowed me to lean up against his great shaggy side for added warmth.

_:What's the plan?:_ he asked, after gulping down his meal ration in a single bite.

"We smash the glass shoe and kill Cinderella," I said confidently.

_:Good plan:_ he grinned.

"It's simple," I said loftily. "It leaves freedom to deal with circumstances as they occur."

_:It's very simple, I'll give you that:_ he agreed.

"Fire, plant, hoof, and wing," I chanted several times, coming no closer to an idea of what they meant.

The sparks from the fire shot up into the night air, leaving traces of light on my vision.

Fenris stiffened behind me.

"What?" I asked, looking around for danger.

He sniffed deeply, sucking in the air.

I jumped to my feet, Wilson out and ready. "What is it?"

Fenris slowly heaved himself up, still taking great snuffling breaths.

_:I had an idea:_ he said thoughtfully.

I felt the tension rush out of me, leaving behind an exhausted deflated feeling.

"Oh. Is that all?"

_:I don't know about the hoof and wing...:_ he trailed off.

"But you've figured out the first two? Fire and plant?" I was excited.

_:Remember that night in the garden?:_ he asked.

I thought back. "The night you smelled something weird? Behind the high wall." I tried to picture the glimpse I'd had of the other side. "There was a round building..." I suddenly realized what the shape had reminded me of. "Not a hot air balloon," I said. "A pumpkin! A ginormous pumpkin!"

Fenris let out a short bark. _:Plant:_

"You think she keeps her shoe inside a giant pumpkin?" I was doubtful. "What about the fire part?"

_:That's what I smelled:_ Fenris explained. _:Fire and something else. Something animal, but not a common one:_

I laughed weakly. "It must have been a dragon then," I joked.

Two yellow eyes stared at me. _:A dragon:_ he said in wonder.

"I was just kidding," I protested. "Fire and animal... a dragon. But there's no such..." I paused. "Are you telling me that there are really dragons? Fire-breathing dragons?"

_:That would explain why I didn't recognize the smell:_ Fenris said.

I sank back down near the fire. "Okay. So the demon princess keeps her heart in a glass shoe inside a giant pumpkin that is protected by a dragon. It's so obvious. Why didn't we see it before?" I rolled my eyes.

:You're being sarcastic:

"Maybe," I sighed. "It still doesn't explain the hoof and wing."

_:It could be a hoofed, winged dragon:_ Fenris offered.

"Maybe," I said again. "Either way, the shoe is not going to be easy to get to."

_:You thought she'd keep it out on an unguarded pedestal?:_ the wolf asked sarcastically.

"If she was considerate she would," I huffed.

:I doubt that she planned any of this with thought of making it easy to destroy herself:

"Probably not," I agreed. "Still, it would have been nice. Some evil people are destroyed by getting wet."

_:Getting wet?:_ Fenris asked in disbelief. _:What? You throw a cup of water at them and they die?:_

"Melt," I said succinctly. " _I'm meeelting!_ " I quoted in a high pitched voice.

:That is ridiculous:

"But convenient," I pointed out.

:Not when it rains:

He lay down beside me and I gave him a good scratching.

"Now we have a plan!" I smiled.

Sure, it involved sneaking into the palace grounds undetected, scaling a spiked wall, and facing down a fire-breathing dragon, all before defeating a murderous demon surrounded by an army of loyal soldiers, but at least it was a plan.

***

The next morning I was not feeling quite so optimistic and with each step nearer to the palace, the greater my trepidation grew.

"This is never going to work!" I burst out at last in a whisper.

Fenris and I were lying flat on our bellies in a ditch, while a troop of the princess' soldiers rode by on the road beside us.

_:Shhh!:_ I was told.

_:This is never going to work!:_ I repeated mentally.

I raised my head briefly to peer through the tall grass. I could almost have reached out and touched the hoofs of a currently passing horse.

_:As long as you don't continue talking aloud, I don't see why they would spot us:_ Fenris answered in a reasonable tone.

_:Not that:_ I said. _:The whole 'storming the castle' thing:_

:I didn't know we were planning to rain on the palace:

I rolled my eyes. He was being difficult on purpose.

_:How in the world are we supposed to get into the palace gardens?:_ I demanded. _:We can hardly walk a quarter mile before having to hide in a ditch. At this rate we won't make it to the palace until we're dead of old age!:_

The last echoes of hoof beats were fading and I risked another peek. The road was clear. I sat up stiffly, brushing plant debris off my clothing.

"We're just playing right into her hands," I went on out loud. "We'll be captured at any minute and then it's all over."

Fenris rolled a bit in the grass, wiggling around like a puppy.

_:You worry too much:_ he said.

"And you don't worry enough!" I protested. "We're already going way out of the way to circle each town, and in a little bit that's not going to work! It's _all_ town!"

He sat up and cocked his head to one side.

_:I hear something:_ he said.

"What?" I asked nervously. "More soldiers?"

_:Coming the other way:_ he replied. _:Quick! Back in the ditch, but get ready to move!:_

We dove back down into the grass and now I could hear the sound as well. It sounded like creaking cart wheels.

"It's a farmer," I whispered, "heading for the city."

_:Wait for it...:_ Fenris said, crouched ready to pounce.

"Wait for what?" I asked.

I lifted my head and saw that the cart was piled high with straw and pulled by a plodding mule. The farmer was an elderly man, half asleep at the reins and swaying gently with the movement of the cart.

_:Now!:_ Fenris cried as the cart passed, and he jumped into the road and with two swift bounds leapt deep into the straw in the back of the cart.

"What!" I cried, caught by surprised.

_:Quick!:_ I was ordered.

I stumbled out into the road and ran after the cart, just managing to catch it and pull myself awkwardly up into the straw.

"This is your plan?" I whispered. "We ride into town?"

_:Exactly:_ Fenris said in a smug tone.

"And what if the cart isn't going near the palace?" I asked acerbically.

_:It will:_ he said confidently.

I had my doubts, but couldn't come up with any alternative plan. The straw was prickly and made my eyes water, but I buried down as deep as I could get and settled in for the ride. The mule plodded steadily on, a rocking motion like being on the deck of a ship, punctuated by the occasional creak of wooden wheels and the gentle snoring of the farmer.

I drifted off to sleep, my mind racing with plans and contingency plans and the grim realization that getting into the palace itself might well prove to be impossible.

I awoke some time later to the busy sounds of the city, people talking, horses trotting, and the general hustle and bustle of life. We had slowed to a sluggish walk and when I peeked out of the straw I could see we were in a line of other carts bearing a variety of goods.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Fenris.

_:We're entering the city gates:_ he told me.

I opened my mouth to ask another question when I heard a man's voice speaking almost directly above me.

"Declare your business!" he said loudly.

I stifled a jump and tried to remain motionless in the straw.

"Hay," said a laconic voice which could only be the farmer.

"What destination?" the first man spoke again. I assumed he was one of the gate guards.

The farmer hawked loudly and spat. "The palace stables," he replied.

The guard's voice grew suspicious. "You will not mind then if I check your load," he barked.

I trembled in fear, imagining long swords being thrust into the straw and hitting Fenris and me.

"What might you be looking for?" the farmer asked lazily.

The guard was ready to gossip. "You have not heard? A female assassin attempted to murder our good princess Cinderella. She fled the city but there is concern that the evil witch might return and try again."

"A female assassin, you say?" the farmer drawled. "This witch would not happen to be traveling with a large beast, would she?"

My heart dropped into my boots. The farmer _had_ seen us board his cart. It had been too good to be true. I tensed, hand on Wilson's hilt, ready to leap out and die in a blaze of glory.

"Yes, old man," the guard said intently. "Have you seen such a woman?"

The farmer spat again. "About two miles outside of the city," he said in bored tones. "A young woman asked me for directions. She had a giant animal with her, too large to be a dog."

"Where was she heading?" the guard half screamed in excitement.

"Towards the eastern border," the farmer replied. "I told her about a tavern in the next village that my aunt's cousin's son runs. No better place for ale in the whole kingdom."

"Yes. Yes!" the guard interrupted him. "Captain!" he yelled. "News of the witch!"

"What about my hay?" the famer asked.

"Move on!" the guard insisted. "Captain!"

The mule took up its plodding trod again, and I could hear the sound of commotion breaking out behind us.

I couldn't believe we were through the gates alive and it took several minutes before I relaxed enough to loosen my grip on Wilson's hilt.

"Well, that was interesting," the farmer drawled aloud. "Now I will drive my cart right into the palace stables. Unless there is somewhere else I should stop first..."

I froze again in tension. It felt like he was talking to me.

"The guards will be searching outside the city for a while," the farmer remarked again. "If I should make another stop, I need to know now."

I couldn't see Fenris through the straw but I sent him a questioning thought. He sent back a mental shrug.

"The palace gardens are nice," I whispered.

"Ah," the farmer spoke. "I do believe that I need to drive past the walls of the palace garden."

We rolled through the streets, the different sounds and smells washing over the cart, intensified because I couldn't see anything.

"Why are you helping us?" I finally asked, unable to contain my curiosity.

"Four years ago," the farmer mused, "My eldest daughter's eldest girl was chosen to attend the ball."

I felt my stomach twist in horror. I knew how that story must end.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Some things need to be stopped," he said as if to himself.

"I'm going to try," I promised.

"Whoa," the farmer called to the mule. "This feels like a good place to sit and rest a while."

I took the hint and Fenris and I slipped out of the straw and into the thick bushes that were growing at the base of a stone wall, the wall surrounding the palace gardens. I heard the sound of the cart creaking as the farmer snapped the reins and the mule plodded off.

"Well, here we are again," I whispered as we lay flat on the ground.

Fenris panted happily.

_:See?:_ he said. _:That was easy:_

"Easy?" I muttered. "Do you have any idea how many things could have gone wrong?"

_:But they didn't:_ he said with contented dog-like acceptance.

I groaned. "Whatever."

A bug tried to crawl down my shirt and I spent the next several minutes wiggling and scratching at a host of imaginary insects that seemed to be attacking everywhere.

"What now?" I asked, when I had finally convinced myself that a strand of hair tickling my ear was not in fact a deadly spider.

_:We wait for dark:_ Fenris replied, stretching out.

And wait we did, for hours and hours and hours. I tried to emulate Fenris and sleep through the day, but the combination of poky branches and tickling bug legs plus my own vivid imagination kept me wide awake. By the time dusk came I was thoroughly stir crazy and anything sounded better than spending another second under this hedge.

"Let's go!" I said, when it became difficult to see Fenris in the gloom.

He yawned and rolled into a half sit.

_:Is it nighttime already?:_ he asked sleepily.

I could have smacked him.

"Yes," I said shortly. "It's nighttime _already_."

He glanced over at me, his yellow eyes slightly glowing.

_:Have you been awake this whole time?:_ he sounded smug.

"No," I lied. "I've been resting. I only just woke up myself."

:You smell stressed:

I tried to still my foot from impatiently quivering.

"Who me? Nah."

The great wolf sniffed the air.

_:The coast seems clear:_ he announced.

"Great!" I said bounding to my feet, my head poking out of the top of the bushes. There was no one in sight. "Let's do this!"

The wall was made of blocks of stone and not too difficult to scale. I was so busy finding hand and footholds that I didn't notice how Fenris cleared the top, but he was waiting for me at the bottom.

We were inside the main palace gardens, a place that I had often walked with Cinderella, back when I had thought her sweet and kind. I shuddered at how wrong I had been.

Fortunately for us, the garden was deserted and we had no problem quickly winding through paths until we reached the inner wall. It was higher than I remembered, and the iron spikes lining the top looked wickedly sharp. But climbing the wall was going to be the least of our worries.

# Chapter Twenty-Six

However Fenris had climbed the outer wall, this one proved to be more challenging for him. After several failed attempts, I finally dragged over one of the garden benches and, standing on the high back, let Fenris climb up my body and stand with his rear paws on my shoulders.

"It's a good thing you're not heavy or anything," I grunted, feeling like I was being crushed into the ground.

_:It's all muscle:_ he laughed, not having a million pounds of pressure cracking his spine.

"Would you hurry up?" I hissed. "The palace guards could be out here at any minute!"

I felt his body tense and tried to brace myself for his spring, but the motion still sent me flying off the bench to skid through the gravel path.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" I moaned quietly.

It was now full dark and I could barely make out the wall, much less the top.

"Fenris?" I whispered. "Did you make it?"

_:I'm on the top:_ he answered. _:You should put the bench back in case someone comes along and notices:_

I grumbled the entire time I manhandled the unwieldy thing back into place. I was leaving huge furrows in the ground but they should be unnoticeable in the dark, and if anyone saw them in the daylight it was probably too late for us anyway.

Feeling very much abused and put out, I scrambled up the wall myself, much faster in pants than I had been on my first attempt in a gown. Fenris was balanced precariously on the top, waiting.

_:What took you so long?:_ he had the gall to ask.

I was too out of breath to come up with a truly cutting response.

I peered into the darkness on the other side of the wall and could just make out the roundish building I had noticed the first time.

"It _does_ look like a pumpkin," I whispered.

_:Shall we?:_ the wolf asked, carefully crossing the iron spikes and preparing to leap down into the blackness.

I swallowed hard. Part of me honestly hadn't expected to make it this far. Oh, sure. I was going to _try_ , but actually face down a dragon? No. I'd be dead long before we reached this point. Only problem was, we weren't, and now I had to put my money where my mouth was.

"What are you waiting for?" I said bravely and began to descend the other side.

There was a brush of air as Fenris jumped past me and I heard him lightly hit the ground. Half way down I heard another sound that made my blood freeze. The sound of something huge slithering over gravel.

I don't know how I made it to the ground, but fear lent speed to my feet and I was quivering next to Fenris, holding Wilson in a death grip.

"Did you hear that?" I asked, unable to hear anything over the current pounding of my heart.

The N'jeri nuzzled me.

_:I smell dragon:_ he said with fierce joy. _:I recognize it now!:_

"Oh, good," I quipped. "I was worried that we'd made the whole thing up and there was nothing guarding the shoe."

_:That would have been disappointing:_ Fenris agreed seriously.

"Yeah," I gulped. "I'm really looking forward to my first dragon."

_:You never forget your first:_ Fenris said.

"At least not until you're dead," I murmured to myself.

This section of the garden was less garden and more enclosed jungle. The plants had overgrown the path until I almost had to crawl to avoid being smacked in the face by countless branches. I followed closely behind Fenris, his nose leading us unerringly towards the center. I heard the slithering sound again, but farther away, and, sooner than I wanted, we broke through into the center of the garden.

"It _is_ a pumpkin!" I breathed quietly in amazement.

There, as large as a three story building, was the largest pumpkin in the world. It sat in the middle of a small clearing, smooth sided, with segmented bulges running vertically up to its leafy top.

"It can't be real," I muttered, stepping closer. "It's got to be plastic."

Since I wasn't too concerned with vandalism at the moment, I sliced into the vegetable... or was it a fruit? I was expecting a clang of metal or the resistance of plastic, but instead Wilson cut smoothly through the woody texture, revealing the soft rind.

_:Seems real to me:_ Fenris observed.

"It can't be!" I protested. "It's way too big!"

He gave me a look. _:Demons, magic swords, ghosts, dragons, and you're worried about a pumpkin being too large?:_

I had just come up with a snarky remark that would highlight my intelligence and wit, when the dragon attacked.

Here's the thing. I _knew_ there was a dragon. We'd been talking about it for days. I knew it would be in the garden. I knew it would be protecting the pumpkin. But somehow, with all this knowledge, the modern, sane part of my brain was completely unconvinced that things like dragons existed.

So, instead of the six foot long alligator/Komodo dragon lizard I was expecting to see, I was floored into terrified inaction by the creature that burst over the top of the pumpkin, spewing white hot flames in our direction. If Fenris hadn't knocked me to one side I would have been toast. Burnt, charred toast.

The impact woke me up enough to follow the wolf's dash into the trees.

"What is that?" I panted.

_:The dragon:_ Fenris said impatiently, slipping around the outside of the clearing.

I could see the monster perched on top of the pumpkin like a cat. It was huge. Its body was the size of an elephant, with four powerfully muscled legs ending in foot long claws. It had a thick tail, topped with razor sharp spikes and its head was protected by a huge ruff of leathery skin. Its eyes were red with vertical slits like a cat's. Two enormous wings rose off its back, but when it fanned them out in the air I could see starlight through the numerous holes and slices in the thin skin. Clearly it had been rendered incapable of flight, all the better to guard the demon's heart.

I tried to take deep breaths in order to not pass out from all the hyperventilating I was doing. We had circled around behind the beast and it was questing this way and that, trying to catch sight of us again.

"What's the plan?" I managed to whisper without stammering.

_:We kill it:_ Fenris said, as if it was obvious.

Wilson silently agreed, quivering impatiently in my hand.

The dragon rose on its hind legs and bellowed in anger, frustrated at not finding us.

"I don't see a bare patch in the hollow of its chest," I said sarcastically, "and even if I did, we don't have a bow and arrow!"

_:What?:_ Fenris didn't catch the reference.

"Never mind," I muttered.

I knew that whatever we were going to do, we needed to do quickly. The dragon was sure to alert the palace guards that something was going on in here, if we hadn't already tripped some sort of security system. The longer we played around the less chance we had of actually succeeding in our mission.

"Ok," I said. "You go in from the left and distract it. I'll attack from the other side."

_:Okay:_ said Fenris and bounded forward before I could come up with anything better. I'd kind of been hoping that he'd been thinking of another plan and that we wouldn't go with mine, but apparently attack and hope for the best was what we were going with.

The dragon roared again as it saw the giant wolf emerge from the trees and it fluttered awkwardly to the ground, spraying a swath of flames. Fenris leaped out of the way and dashed in close, slashing at the dragon's legs with his teeth.

I couldn't let him face the thing alone, so, ignoring the part of my brain that was gibbering in fear, I ran forward silently, leaping over the end of the monster's tail and stabbing as hard as I could into its chest.

Wilson's tip barely punctured the thick hide and the dragon turned, its head whipping around to flame at the annoying creature tickling its side. I ducked just in time, but I felt the side of my arm blistering in the heat.

Fenris took the opportunity to clamp down on one of the dragon's sensitive wings and the beast let out an agonizing scream. I followed suit and slashed a long gash into the other wing, causing the dragon to thrash from side to side trying to reach one of us with its massive jaws.

The thing was wickedly fast and Fenris was just a hair too slow. It caught the N'jeri a blow with the side of its jaw that sent the wolf flying through the air. He yelped in pain as he crashed out of sight into the trees.

Throwing all commonsense to the wind, I ran forward, using the dragon's elbow as a springboard and leapt through the air to land straddling the creature's back. Luckily for me, I landed right between two of the larger spines, the front one tearing a hole through my shirt and the skin on my stomach. Any farther forward and it would have skewered me good. It also made the perfect handhold as the dragon reared and screamed.

Riding the bucking monster like a cowboy at a rodeo, my head was snapped back and forth so quickly that I was sure my spine would break. The dragon's neck was too long to effectively reach me with its flame throwing mouth ,and its legs were far too short to scrape me off. The only thing I was really worried about was the beast rolling over and crushing me, but after seeing how sensitive its wings were, I hoped it would choose not to pinch them.

Panting, the beast stood quivering, unsure of how to proceed next. Now that the whiplashing had paused I had time to stab and hack with Wilson's blade. My first blows bounced off harmlessly, inciting more jerking about and roaring from the dragon.

Changing my tactics, I went to work at the scales protecting the creature's throat. I wedged Wilson's tip up underneath and worked it back and forth, trying to drive it home.

The dragon apparently didn't like this and let me know by scrambling up the side of the giant pumpkin, scorching everything in sight. I was surrounded by a thick fog of burning smoke and was starting to feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. Getting desperate, I wiggled the blade harder, still not gaining enough leverage to slide past the outer scales.

Then, looking more like a monster than a wolf, Fenris somehow leaped the twenty or so feet to the top of the pumpkin, clamping his huge jaws on the edge of one wing and pulling us all crashing to the ground far beneath.

The impact shook Wilson free from my hand and I wound up lying half pinned under a thick leg. I waited, sure that I was about to be cremated, but the dragon didn't move. Scrambling away as quickly as I could, I found Fenris limping towards me.

"Are you okay?" I asked hurriedly, still watching for signs of movement from the fallen beast.

He whined gently and pushed his nose under my arm pit. I gave him a fierce hug and planted a kiss on the top of his furry head.

The dragon still hadn't moved, one wing broken and trapped beneath its huge body.

"Is it... dead?" I whispered, not wanting to get closer to check.

The great wolf sniffed the air. _:It's dead:_ he said grimly.

I tiptoed gingerly forward, circling the beast until I saw the base of its neck. The fall had done what I had not been strong enough to accomplish. Wilson was buried hilt deep into the creature's neck, a dark, almost purple colored blood leaking slowly down to drip into the huge pool soaking the ground.

"It's dead," I sighed, suddenly feeling very tired and sore and wanting to sit down and have a good cry.

Instead I approached and gripped Wilson's hilt. It took several powerful tugs, bracing my feet against the dragon's shoulder and heaving for all I was worth.

"Let go, you idiot!" I scolded the blade. "It's over!"

Finally, it slid free and I stood panting heavily, leaning against the sword like a cane.

"Well," I said with forced cheer, "that was easy."

Fenris snorted and pawed at the dragon.

_:Fire and plant:_ he said thoughtfully.

"Oh, come on!" I protested. "That had to count for wing too!" I studied the fallen beast, "But not hooves," I admitted.

_:There are two more guardians:_ Fenris decided grimly.

I winced. The one guardian had almost done us in. I was bruised and bleeding from numerous small cuts. Fenris was favoring a leg and one side was matted with wet blood. We were a mess, and if the next two guardians were half as dangerous as the first, we were dead.

# Chapter Twenty-Seven

My shoulder was aching horribly as I raised Wilson high and slashed down with all my might into the skin of the giant pumpkin. It took several more hacks before I cut away enough of the rind to reveal a dark opening.

I had been expecting the gooey, seeded interior that I had scooped out of countless pumpkins in preparation for carving faces for Halloween. Instead, there was an empty space and the air that was blowing out of the hole was strange, as if the inside of the pumpkin was much larger and more cavernous than it looked from the outside.

"Weird," I said aloud.

Fenris stuck his head through the opening.

_:Shall we?:_ he asked impatiently.

"How do we know what's in there?" I asked fearfully, not wanting to step inside the thing.

_:The shoe is in there:_ the wolf snapped. _:Let's go!:_

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, "You've never seen _Attack of the Fifty Foot Pumpkin._ "

Fenris turned, his yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness.

_:Is that really something?:_ he asked, curious.

"No," I admitted. "But it would make a pretty scary horror movie."

All I got in response was a snort as the N'jeri's tail disappeared through the hole. I followed reluctantly, not knowing what to expect.

To my surprise, the inside of the pumpkin was faintly glowing, and my eyesight quickly adjusted to the low light. There was a narrow passageway carved into the flesh and it curved away from us out of sight.

"Curiouser and curiouser," I muttered under my breath.

Fenris didn't seem bothered by the strangeness of our surroundings and set off quickly to the left, following the corridor. I had Wilson out, ready for anything as we walked along the slightly springy ground.

After about ten minutes we paused and looked around again. I would have thought that we had circled the pumpkin several times except for the fact that we had not returned to our original forced opening.

"Unless it closed up!" I suddenly hyperventilated, "and we're trapped here for all eternity!"

_:What are you talking about?:_ the wolf growled.

"There's no way the pumpkin is this big," I said, getting a hold of myself.

Fenris licked absentmindedly at the dried blood in his fur.

_:Hoof and wing:_ he quoted.

I looked around. There was nothing that looked remotely like a hoof... or a wing, just an unending, slowly curving passageway carved out of the pumpkin.

We walked for what felt like another hour until I was aching and tired and getting grumpier with each passing step. I felt let down. After all the excitement with the dragon I had been geared up for more harrowing adventures, the monotony of trudging in endless circles was trying my patience.

Fenris plodded along, his head hanging low and his tail tucked between his legs. He was still limping badly and I could see a burned patch of skin along his chest that had to be painful.

"That's it!" I finally snapped.

I attacked the inner wall in fury. Slicing open the side of the pumpkin had gotten us in here, maybe the next part of the pathway would be reached the same way. This time I was either more tired, or the pumpkin was thicker. It took several minutes of sweating, cursing, and sawing before I finally had a hole cut large enough to crawl through.

I turned to smile triumphantly at Fenris when an animal burst from the hole and took off at high speed down the passageway.

"What the...?" I said, momentarily stunned.

_:It was a goat!:_ Fenris roared, bounding after it.

"A goat?" I stumbled after them, trying to keep up.

_:Hoof! Hoof!:_ the wolf yelled, still in hot pursuit.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, feeling a stitch starting in my side.

I rounded a corner and was suddenly falling out of the original hole I had cut into the pumpkin.

"No way!" I protested. "We walked _miles_ past this!"

_:Hurry up!:_ Fenris ordered from where he was already disappearing into the trees. _:It went this way:_

I sheathed Wilson so as not to disembowel myself if I tripped and tried to sprint. I was exhausted and soon had to drop to a slow jog, but Fenris kept me on the trail with updates.

The goat ran unerringly towards the iron spiked wall, leapt easily over it, and out into the main part of the palace gardens.

_:Hurry!:_ the N'jeri howled, needing a boost from me to clear the wall.

I braced myself against the stones and the wolf ran, leaping off my back and barely scrambling to the top of the wall. I was left to drag my tired body over and fell heavily to the other side. The goat and wolf were nowhere in sight.

"Don't wait up," I panted to myself. "Just go on without me."

_:Outer wall:_ I was told shortly. _:It's heading into the city:_

I groaned but trotted towards the garden wall and climbed it for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"Gates," I mumbled, almost twisting my ankle when I landed. "Gates are nice. So are gaps, holes..."

_:Down the street to your right:_ I was ordered.

"I'm coming," I gasped. "Just let me finish my heart attack first."

_:It's circling back!:_ the wolf yapped. _:Cut it off! Run!:_

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to run, much less crawl anywhere, but I headed down the street and hoped that the palace guards had better things to do than patrol outside the palace. Since it was the middle of the night, there was no traffic on the road and also very little illumination. The few lighted windows threw more dark shadows on the cobblestones than anything else and I tripped and fell several times, not seeing a hole in the road or assuming there was a hole when there wasn't.

Over the frantic pounding in my ears I could hear the sound of tiny hoofs approaching and I sped up, racing for the intersection I could just make out ahead. It was now or never. If I couldn't catch the goat in the next ten seconds I was going to have an aneurism and die.

The hoof beats grew closer, the animal sounding like it was bolting along in fear. I heard a low growl from behind it as Fenris chased the goat closer, which explained its terrified run.

The intersection was darker than the street I was running along and long black shadows cut across it, making it almost impossible to see the approaching goat.

I poured on the last bit of speed I had left and tried to listen with everything I had. Tuning out the sound of my own blood pressure, my pounding footsteps, and the air wheezing in my chest, I focused on the sound of hard hoofs striking the ground.

"This is it," I muttered, and launched myself into the air.

I could barely make out a dim figure hurtling down the cross street and I timed my jump to hopefully tackle the goat and finish the chase. I misjudged in the dark and landed just behind the animal, my left hand brushing its tail as I plowed into the road. In reflex my hand grabbed at whatever it could reach and I would up face first into the cobblestones, holding on to the goat's rear leg.

The creature kicked and jerked about and it was all I could do to keep my grip. I managed to catch hold with my other hand and for the next few seconds my world narrowed to being kicked and dragged along the ground while I refused to let go.

"Fenris!" I wailed. "Fenris!"

He arrived in a flash of fur and fang and with a sickening snap of spine the goat gave up its struggle. I lay panting on the ground, still holding on to the leg, the night sky seeming to have tons of different colored stars that darted around me like fireflies.

"I think I'm going to puke," I said finally, deciding that perhaps I wasn't going to die immediately.

Fenris lay beside me, his great sides heaving. The chase had been hard on him as well.

"Are you okay?" I asked, rolling to one side.

He whined but didn't respond.

I poked the now lifeless goat, feeling sorry that we'd had to kill it to catch it.

"Now what?" I asked.

Fenris staggered to his feet and nudged the dead animal with his nose.

_:Definitely hoof:_ he remarked.

I wrinkled my nose, "You don't think..." I trailed off in disgust.

_:You need to cut it open:_ the wolf told me matter of factly.

"Ew, yuck," I complained.

I got a non-sympathetic stare in return.

"Fine!" I gritted out between clenched teeth, "But if I throw up all over the place it's your fault."

I tried to cut open the goat's stomach with Wilson's blade and was surprised how much pressure it took to slice through the skin.

"I can't believe I'm doing this!"

The outer skin split open revealing the underlying muscle and surprisingly little blood.

"You really think the shoe is—"

Before I could finish speaking there was a blur of feathers and a bird shot out of the goat's stomach. I fell backwards in surprise, landing painfully on my tailbone.

Fenris reacted with the speed of instinct. He leapt in the air, his jaws snapping shut and effectively ending the bird's flight, and its life.

# Chapter Twenty-Eight

I stared, wide-eyed, at the dead pheasant in front of me.

"Fire, plant, hoof and wing," I said in shocked tones.

_:This should be it then:_ Fenris said with relish.

"This has got to be the weirdest security system in the world," I muttered. "I mean, how does she get the shoe back inside every year?"

Fenris gave me a mental shrug.

_:It nearly defeated us:_ he pointed out. _:And we were somewhat prepared for all of this:_

I raised an eyebrow. "I was _not_ prepared for this. This is craziness."

:Cut it open:

I made a face. I'd had my fill of cutting things open, but I obediently hacked the bird in half, revealing the prize within.

In awe I lifted out the perfectly formed glass shoe. It looked delicate and beautiful, like a strange piece of modern art.

"This is it," I breathed. "The demon's soul."

I turned the shoe in my hand, studying it from all angles. There seemed to be something staining one side... I flinched, realizing that it was a smear of blood.

"Now she dies," I said grimly.

_:Will she die as soon as you smash the shoe?:_ the wolf asked.

I shook my head. "That would be too easy," I sighed. "No. We have to smash it in front of her, and then kill her."

A yawn surprised me, splitting my face in half. I was exhausted. Fenris was wounded and neither one of us was in any shape to go storming the castle.

"We need to rest first," I said tiredly, my adrenaline flowing out of my body leaving behind aches, pains, and extreme weariness.

***

As tired as I was, I found it hard to fall asleep that night. We had snuck into the castle stables, found an empty stall that, judging by the moldy straw, had been deserted for some time, and bedded down for the night. I had thought to fall asleep as soon as I stopped moving, but I lay there, listening to the sounds of the horses shifting position, and worried.

It was a miracle that we had made it as far as we had. We should have been captured or died countless times in the last few days and I feared that our incredible luck would be running out just when we needed it the most.

The hardest part was still to come, the reason why we had embarked on this whole adventure in the first place. I had to kill Cinderella. There was no other tolerable final outcome. I realized that sacrificing my own life would be an acceptable exchange for ridding this kingdom of her hideous murders.

I was prepared to die. I didn't want to, but I considered it worthwhile if I was successful. I had no idea how long Cinderella had been alive, how long she had been feeding off the lives of young women, but I promised myself that Agnes would be the last one. There would no more royal balls, no more specially chosen ladies-in-waiting who failed to see the next light of day. It would all end here and now.

My only regret was that Fenris would probably die with me. I had come a long way from my first terrified sight of him, when I had assumed that he was a man-eating monster. Now I considered him my closest friend, and I wanted to protect him and keep him safe. He had done so much for me, and it seemed time to repay the favor.

As soon as my mind was made up, I dropped off to sleep, peaceful now that I had a plan. I dozed on and off and when the black night sky turned to dark grey I carefully arose, tiptoeing around the sleeping wolf, and slipped out of the stables. Fenris was deep in a healing sleep, his injuries from the night before dulling his senses and allowing me to leave without waking him.

"Goodbye, my friend," I whispered, looking back. "I know you'll understand."

The city was just waking up, the bakers and other early shop owners unlocking their front doors, still bleary-eyed with sleep. I found a public fountain and managed to clean the worst of the dirt off my hands, face, and clothing and rinse my mouth out. I missed my electric toothbrush and mouthwash, but I wasn't going to live long enough to get cavities, so it didn't really matter.

Ghosting along the back alleys, I found a clothesline hung with women's clothing. I snatched a skirt and two shawls and quickly moved away to a secluded corner. The skirt went on over my pants, a shawl went around my shoulders, hiding Wilson on my back, and the second covered my hair, pulled low over my forehead to hide my face. Disguise complete, all I had to do now was wait for the palace gates to open.

As the sun came up, the city came alive, and in no time at all the streets were crowded with people and horses and carts. I slipped unnoticed through the bustle until I stood in front of the palace.

This was going to be harder than I thought. There were four soldiers guarding the gate and carefully checking every single person and cart that entered. I saw swords being stabbed into the straw and an elderly grey-haired woman was practically strip searched.

I would just have to risk it. I had to get into that palace. What were the chances that they were looking for me? This was probably just normal security for the princess.

"Halt!" one of the guards yelled tackling a young woman to the ground and pinning her arms behind her back. "What is your business at the palace?" he yelled in her ear.

Okay. So, maybe not.

Two of the other guards joined the one questioning the poor woman and I decided that it was now or never.

I pulled the shawl lower over my face and attempted a hunch-backed limp.

"State your business," the bored fourth guard said.

I recognized the voice of Albin, the captain of the guard who had first escorted me to the palace. Drat! Of all the soldiers who could have been posted here, it had to be the one that I had actually spoken with.

"Cleaning, sir," I said, keeping my face low and trying to deepen my voice.

The bulge at my waist where I had carefully wrapped and attached the glass shoe seemed horribly conspicuous to me.

"Cleaning?" Albin repeated, reaching out a hand and lifting my chin.

We stared nose to nose into each other's faces. It was all I could do to keep a blank look and not break into a guilty sweat.

I saw the moment that he recognized my face. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and then pulled close together in consternation. His mouth pursed into a hard line and I heard the intake of breath as he prepared to call for my capture.

I reached a hand up and griped the torque around my neck. Why, oh why, hadn't I spent more time learning to use the godmother magic? Now was when it could really come in useful.

"Please, oh please, oh please, oh please," I murmured frantically.

I didn't know any magic words or incantations, but I hoped that it was more the thought that counted and not so much the pronunciation.

"These are not the droids you are looking for! These are not the droids you are looking for!" I pleaded silently, my fingers cutting into the torque.

Albin let out his breath and looked puzzled. It seemed like his eyes grew clear and his lips quivered for a moment in a puzzled look before straightening out into a bored face.

"Proceed," he said in a monotone.

I realized that I had been holding my breath and that my face was turning blue. I choked and ducked my head down again.

The captain motioned me forward and ran a worried hand over his face, before turning to assist his fellow guards, who were getting an earful from the enraged woman they had tackled.

I tried to hurry as fast as I could without looking like I was hurrying, which is harder than it sounds. I'd seen the shadow lift off Albin's face before when I had asked about the prince. Maybe I had actually worked some magic this time, or maybe Albin was just feeling generous. All that mattered was that I was in.

As I fake limped my way across the inner courtyard I heard a howl of betrayal echoing across the city. Fenris had woken up.

***

I had pulled up my mental shields as high and as thick as I knew how and now I could feel Fenris raging against them, but faintly, like the echo of an echo. Deciding to ignore him, I worked my way through the palace hallways, avoiding high traffic areas and moving ever closer to Cinderella's private quarters. It was still early enough in the morning that the princess might not have opened court yet. I was hoping to find her alone and unsuspecting.

By the time I reached the ornate wooden doors, my heart was pounding so loudly I was sure I sounded guilty from a mile away. Each time a soldier passed I pretended to cough or stumble, and managed to keep my face turned away, feeling like I was obviously hiding.

No one stopped me though and I pushed open the doors and slipped inside. Closing them quietly behind me I stood panting in the dark. It took me a moment to realize that all of the rooms were dark. Cinderella wasn't here.

Letting out a sigh of frustration I picked my way through the outer foyer, managing to only bump into one piece of furniture. I vaguely recalled the layout and chose the door to the sitting room to check first. The large windows let in enough light that I could see this room was empty as well.

"Where could she be?" I hissed, grateful that I didn't have to confront her right this instant, but annoyed at the same time.

"Hello?" a male voice said behind me.

I leaped in the air and whirled about, grabbing Wilson free of the shawl and swinging the point around to face whoever had startled me.

A man stood in the doorway of one of the other rooms. His face was curiously still and his pupils were dilated.

"Hello," I said carefully, expecting him to yell for help at any moment.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a dull voice.

I lowered the sword a bit.

"Do I know... have we..." recognition hit me. "You're the prince!" I exclaimed.

He blinked slowly. "Can I help you?" he repeated.

"Umm," I studied his face. He looked drugged out of his mind.

"Very well," he said flatly, turning back around.

"Wait!" I cried.

He paused, staring at me without blinking.

"Uh, do you know where Cinderella is?" I asked hopefully.

A long moment went by in which I began to worry that he had fallen asleep on his feet with his eyes open.

"My beloved princess Cinderella should be preparing to meet with our loyal subjects," he finally said in a daze.

The throne room. She had to be in the throne room, and I might have time to confront her there before it began to fill with people.

"Thanks," I said awkwardly, backing for the door. "You're not going to, umm, call for the guards or anything, are you?"

He gave another slow blink.

"Everything is perfect in the kingdom," he recited. "All is well."

A shiver went up my spine.

"Yeah, everything's just peachy here," I muttered. "See ya later, prince."

He stood there, staring off into nothingness, while I slunk out of the room and closed the door. Then there was only the short hallway that separated the private royal quarters from the throne room. This was it.

I was more afraid than I had ever been before in my life. It wasn't just the fear of death. It was the fear of failure. The knowledge of what was riding on this. No pressure or anything.

Shedding my skirt and shawls, I bit my lip and tried to still the frantic beating of my heart.

"You can do this, Morgan," I whispered to myself. "For Agnes."

Reaching out a trembling hand, I pushed open the door at the end of the hallway and brushed past the concealing curtain on the other side.

"Hello, Cinderella," I said.

# Chapter Twenty-Nine

"You!" she snarled, startled at my sudden appearance.

She was sitting on the throne, flipping through some papers in preparation for the day's applicants.

"Me," I smiled without humor.

Cinderella quickly regained her composure.

"You are foolish to come here," she sneered. "I shall call for the guards; you will return to your cell and this time you will not live to escape."

"Pretty confident, aren't you?" I asked softly, stalking closer. Wilson was out and held menacingly towards her slender throat.

She laughed merrily, ignoring the sharp blade.

"Why, you silly little girl!" she chuckled. "Haven't you learned your lesson yet?"

She stood, pressing her neck into the sword.

"I cannot be killed," she whispered, running a finger down the edge of the blade. "I am immortal."

"Oh, really?" I asked, stepping back and pulling the wrapped shoe out. "That's not what I hear."

She laughed again. "What is this?" she asked, pointing to the bundle. "Some local magic? A potion perhaps? Did you visit a hedge witch? I do hope you didn't pay too much for that." She smiled sweetly. "I am afraid you will find it quite useless."

It was hard to unwrap the shoe with one hand, but I didn't want to lower Wilson for even a moment.

"No," I said calmly, fumbling with the cloth. "I got this from you."

"From me?" she asked archly, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Do tell! I find your confidence so charming! I shall be most sad to see you skinned alive and your flesh fed to my hunting dogs, but of course, it is an honor really. Were you any less annoying I would just have you killed quickly and painlessly."

"Thanks," I said dry-mouthed, shaking off the last bit of wrapping, "but I don't think it's going to be necessary."

She had refused to look at the object in my hand, not considering it worth even a thought, so sure was she in her immortality. Now I held the shoe aloft in triumph.

"This is for Agnes," I yelled fiercely.

Her eyes widened in shock as she recognized her heart in my hand.

"No!" she screamed, leaping forward, but I was too fast.

I smashed the shoe down on the ground where it shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Nooooo!" she shrieked, a sound that tore at my ears with its painful intensity.

"Yes!" I yelled back, stamping down hard on the last shards.

I was hoping that breaking the shoe was all it would take, that she would wail and melt like the Wicked Witch. I should have known that would be too easy.

All the beauty and loveliness fell off of her like a mist being blown away. Her face twisted into a horror mask of wrinkled skin, elongated teeth, and red tinted eyes. Her hair was a tangled mass of dreadlocks that seemed to move on their own like a nest of snakes. She was taller now and ripped with heavy muscles that burst through her dress, leaving tattered shreds that barely covered her greenish skin.

She rose to her full height, stretching gorilla like arms tipped with long thick nails.

"You will pay for this!" she howled, her voice no longer sweet and innocent.

"Oh. Crap," I said.

The demon lunged for me, drool dripping out of her enlarged mouth and a foul reek filling the air. I had been stunned by the sudden transformation and missed the prime opportunity to finish this quickly. Now I had to step up my game or be finished myself.

I feinted forward with a slash and rolled in the opposite direction, Wilson and I moving in perfect harmony. I hit the stairs early and tumbled down them, scrambling at the bottom to get my feet back underneath me.

Cinderella didn't bother with the steps, leaping down to land with an earthshaking crash that cracked the pavement for yards. She roared, throwing back her head and bellowing like a bear. As an intimidation tactic I found it very effective.

I called up all my months of swordsmanship lessons against Fenris and attacked, ducking and dodging the blows she returned, any one of which would have split me in two if they connected. Wilson lent speed and strength to my arm and I had a flash of hope that we might actually survive this.

_:How could you leave me?:_ I heard in my head. I had forgotten to keep my mental shields high while distracted with the fighting.

_:Not now:_ I shot back as quickly as I could, barely missing a swipe of claw-like fingernails that left a burning line down my cheek.

_:After all we've been through?:_ Fenris sounded enraged.

_:Can we talk about this later?:_ I ran forward, sliding on my knee, and tried to stab the demon in the thigh. She was too quick, but I marked her skin.

_:I'd hate to think I was distracting you from more_ important _things:_ Fenris said in a huff.

:Well, I'm kind of locked in mortal combat, so yeah, you're distracting me!:

Cinderella barreled forward, driving us back down the throne room. Even mortal, she was more than a match for me. I realized that my earlier success had been due to the fact that she had been protecting her heart. Now that I had smashed it, she was even more deadly, fighting for her life.

_:You're fighting Cinderella?:_ Fenris asked.

_:No:_ I said sarcastically, as the demon grabbed my sword arm and pulled me close. We struggled back and forth until I kicked her as hard as I could in the knee, which collapsed outwards with a satisfying pop. _:I thought I'd start with some other blood drinking demon and work my way up:_

Cinderella screamed loudly and I had to cover my ears in pain.

_:Hold on:_ Fenris was all business. _:I'm on my way:_

She limped towards me, obviously favoring the knee I had injured, but still moving faster than I would have liked. I readied myself, dancing on the balls of my feet.

"Bring it on," I taunted her. "Not so tough now that you're not immortal, eh?"

"You... will... _suffer_... for this," she panted, her eyes glowing in pain.

"Yeah, yeah," I sneered, hiding my inner terror, "promises, promises. Looks like you're the one suffering now."

"I will drain every last drop of blood from your body," she said intently. "And when I remake my heart, I will bring you back to life and then drain you again!"

I wrinkled my nose. "That doesn't sound fun," I said. "How about I just kill you once and we call it even?"

"You have no idea who you are dealing with!" she shrieked, leaping forwards.

I had been so focused on the witty repartee, that I hadn't noticed how close she had gotten. She tackled me, sending Wilson skittering across the floor as her hands clamped around my neck.

I tried to pry off her fingers but she was too strong, her sharp nails digging into my skin and covered in slippery blood. Straddled over me, she leaned in close, her noxious breath hot on my face.

My vision started to tunnel and I knew that the end was near. Clawing at her hands was getting me nowhere. I jerked my whole body up and managed to drive my own knee into her damaged one.

She screamed again, but held tight.

This was it. I had come so far, faced so much, and I was going to die here on the floor, covered in my own blood and failing in the most important thing I had ever attempted.

_:I'm sorry, Fenris:_ I sent. _:I didn't want to see you hurt:_

Black specs danced in front of my eyes, growing larger and larger. My lungs were aching for oxygen. If I couldn't get a breath soon I was going to pass out. Vaguely, as if from far away, I heard voices raised in surprise and the sound of doors being crashed open.

"You were no match for me," Cinderella whispered in my ear, licking the side of my face, just before her body was jerked off of mine, tumbling away in a jumble of arms and legs.

I pulled myself to my knees, sucking air in painful gasps. It took me a moment to fill my lungs but then I saw that the N'jeri had arrived just in time.

His fur bristled in a ridge down his spine. He circled the demon princess who was now crouched on the ground, hissing like an angry cat. The wolf's ears were almost invisible against his head, his lips pulled back tight, and a bone chilling snarl emitted continuously from his chest. His yellow eyes were burning bright and every step he took promised painful dismemberment.

"You will both die," Cinderella panted, but her eyes showed fear.

I crawled forward until I could reach Wilson and used him as a crutch to get back on my feet.

"You are going to pay for Agnes and all the others," I said flatly. "And you're never going to hurt anyone ever again."

Even outnumbered she was still dangerous. If Fenris and I hadn't been linked mentally with hours of fighting practice we might still have failed. As it was, the next few minutes were a blur of instinctual movement. I abandoned all pretense of rational thought and just let the magic sword and promptings from Fenris direct my actions.

Refusing to think before I moved allowed my sword play to reach a new level of excellence and I flowed with the steps like I was one with my weapon. It was a beautiful feeling, balanced on an edge between death and art.

Fenris was a whirlwind of fur and fang, never where you thought he would be, always attacking from the least expected direction, slashing and biting, using teeth, claws, and muscle to drive Cinderella slowly back up the throne room towards the dais.

Behind me I could hear the sound of soldiers rushing into the room. If they joined the battle then we were lost. I couldn't take my attention off the demon in front of me and I really hoped that no one was preparing to skewer my back.

Suddenly Cinderella noticed the soldiers as well and paused in her furious fighting. I took the breather to check them out and saw that they were standing in shock, not recognizing their princess and unsure of what to do.

"Out!" Cinderella screamed in fury. "Out!"

The baffled guards turned tail and ran; then the battle began again and I had no more time to think.

I knew the moment we had won. There was a subtle shifting in the way we fought. Cinderella was giving more ground, Fenris' attacks more confident. A look of resignation flashed over her face and she stumbled to the ground in front of the stairs.

"Mercy!" she wailed pitifully. "Have mercy!"

Fenris stood, panting heavily, his furry sides heaving in and out, and his muzzle streaked with blood. He looked to me.

"Mercy?" I repeated in disbelief. "Mercy for you? Did you show Agnes any mercy? Did you show _me_ any mercy?"

"I have to eat!" she said plainly. "It is what I am."

"That's no excuse!" I snarled, raising Wilson for the killing blow.

I wished that we had been able to kill her in the heat of battle. Now, with her defeated but still alive, it was a lot harder to strike her head from her shoulders.

"Stop!" she cried, throwing up her arms in front of her face. "You do not know what you are doing!"

I paused, still ready to strike. "Everyone always says that," I answered, "but I'm pretty sure I know exactly what I'm doing."

"You will destroy the balance," she pleaded. "You will wreak havoc on this land!"

"You were doing a fairly good job of that yourself," I frowned.

"I hold the others in check," she begged. "Without me there will be an inequality of powers. They will come for you!"

"Who?" I asked suspiciously, "who will come for me?"

"The others," she said with terrified eyes. "When they hear you have slain the godmother, if you kill me, they will come!"

_:End this:_ Fenris growled.

"I can't let you live," I said sadly. "I'm sorry."

"You will regret this!" she shrieked.

"I know," I said, my stomach churning.

"I can send you home," she pleaded, falling on her knees and clasping her hands in front of her. "Let me send you home."

I glanced over at Fenris. I wanted to go home more than anything in the world. But not like this. If I left now, left Cinderella alive, she would regain her power, remake her heart, become immortal, and start murdering young women again. I would be home safe and leaving a monster in power behind me.

Fenris didn't say a word, but his ears drooped and he whined softly.

Cinderella thought she saw me weakening.

"You can be home today!" she promised. "I can complete the magic in hours and open a portal. Just let me live and you can have your heart's desire!"

My eyes narrowed and she started to babble.

"Gold! Jewels! I can send unimaginable wealth with you! You can be a princess in your own land, with your own people! Is not that what you want? Just spare my life! I promise to choose different souls to drain! I will only drink the criminals! The dying! I can change!"

I gazed down on her in pity. There was no way she would change. There was no way I could be sure that she would keep her word. If I took her up on her offer I would be an accomplice in her murderous crimes.

I squeezed my eyes tight shut for a second, feeling hot tears dripping from my eyelashes. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to have to make these decisions. I didn't want any of this. But it didn't really matter what I wanted. What mattered was what I did with the choices I had.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking.

She realized a split second after I started my swing that she was going to die.

"Noooo!" she shrieked, her voice echoing through the room in terror.

Wilson's blade bit into her neck, just where her jaw met her throat. It sliced through the flesh and spinal cord, opening her trachea and esophagus, and tearing through the flesh and skin on the other side. Her final cry burbled faintly before her eyes glazed over, her head falling to the ground and rolling in a spattered circle of blood. The rest of her body sagged and fell forward, leaking fluids in an ever widening pool of gore.

# Chapter Thirty

I wanted to collapse on the floor and sleep for a week, but a second look at the corpse in front of me changed my mind. Maybe I could throw up a bit first and _then_ sleep for a week... somewhere clean and far away from here.

Fenris had fewer qualms than I. He stretched out on the ground, head resting on his front paws and sighed.

_:I was afraid for a minute that you would take her up on her offer:_ he commented.

"Which offer?" I asked, knowing exactly what he meant.

_:The one about sending you home:_ he said, yellow eyes never leaving my face.

"Oh, that," I shrugged. "Wasn't even tempted."

_:Really:_ he deadpanned.

"Not for a second," I lied. "Why would I want to go home when things are so much more interesting here?"

:Good question:

I looked around the room trying to decide what we needed to do next. Could we slip out the back unnoticed and escape the palace before anyone realized that the princess was dead? I doubted it. For one thing, there was a whole army of soldiers at the front doors who had seen a little of the fight and were only waiting outside because their princess had commanded it. They'd had plenty of time to surround the throne room and that left fighting or talking our way out.

Fenris looked beat, his fur matted with blood, his jaws dripping with it, his tail beating an exhausted slow wag on the floor. Fighting was out of the question.

I dragged myself towards the throne room doors and threw them open. There were a ton of guards waiting anxiously on the other side. At my appearance they all started backwards, wide-eyed in fear.

"Hey," I said weakly, leaning heavily on Wilson and hoping I wasn't dulling his point by resting it on the ground.

Captain Albin was in the front. He looked just as concerned as his men, but he stepped forward with a gulp.

"Who are you?" he asked, holding his own sword out at me.

"It's me," I said puzzled. Then I looked up and caught sight of the crazy-eyed woman standing in the doorway, wild hair flying about her face and liberally coated with gore and blood. I almost screamed myself until I realized that I was seeing my reflection in the huge gilt mirror hanging on the opposite wall.

"Oh," I said. I rubbed wearily at my face, probably smearing the blood worse. "I'm Morgan."

The guards still looked blank so I sighed and gave in to the inevitable.

"Godmother Morgan," I said through clenched teeth.

Albin looked relieved. I wasn't sure who he had thought I was, but being me was obviously better.

"And the princess?" he asked carefully.

I scratched the bridge of my nose, not sure how to explain everything that had happened. "She's dead," I said finally.

Albin let out a sigh of pent up breath.

"Truly?" he asked.

I glanced back over my shoulder to the blood spattered throne room.

"Truly," I answered. I opened my mouth to explain how she was really an evil demon and they'd all been under a spell and please don't kill me when the guards all erupted in a mighty cheer.

"Hurrah for the godmother!" they yelled, pumping their swords in the air. "All hail the godmother!"

"Uh," I looked around at all the smiling faces. "You're not mad?"

Captain Albin dropped to one knee. "You have saved us, my lady. We are forever in your debt."

"But... umm... you worked for her," I said, trying to understand their loyalty shift. After all, these were the same guys who had shot me full of arrows and delivered me over to be tortured and killed.

"Not five minutes ago the spell that she cast upon our minds was broken and we remembered who we are," Albin answered grimly.

"Oh," I said, trying to find a clean piece of my clothing to wipe Wilson off on. "Good. Fenris!" I yelled over my shoulder. "We're not going to die!"

_:Everyone dies:_ was his less than cheerful response.

I could see him still stretched out where I had left him.

"How can I serve you, my lady?" Albin asked, drawing my attention back.

"I need medical attention for my friend back there," I said, pointing towards the giant wolf. "And I could really use a shower and some clean clothes."

***

The blood took a long time to scrub out of my hair and from underneath my fingernails and even then I still felt dirty. I had to settle for a bath since they hadn't heard of showers yet, and I had the water dumped and refilled several times until it went from dark pink to clear. I threw up when I found a sliver of bone stuck in my hair and my shivering had little to do with being cold.

I huddled before a huge roaring fire and rocked back and forth, holding my knees to my chest. There are some things that you just can't erase from your memory, and I had a feeling that I would be reliving Cinderella's death in my dreams for many months to come.

Fenris crouched beside me, cleaned and bandaged and gulping down a massive piece of raw meat. I reached out to bury my fingers in his fur for comfort.

_:You did the right thing:_ he assured me.

"I know," I said sadly. "That doesn't make it any easier."

_:You say that because you have never faced the opposite:_ he said sagely, not stopping in his meat inhaling.

There was a tentative knock on the door.

"Come in!" I called.

Seneschal Gilpin entered, bobbing up and down in low bows.

"My lady godmother," he greeted me. "If it would please your greatness, his majesty the prince desires to meet with you."

"Oh," I blinked. I had totally forgotten Cinderella's husband, the true ruler of the land. "Of course."

Gilpin eyed my clothing askance. I had asked for replacement leather pants, vest, boots, and linen shirt. It was what I felt the most comfortable in.

"Perhaps my lady requires time to change?" he suggested.

I grinned. "Nope. I'm ready," I said, standing up.

"Truly," the seneschal gritted out between clenched teeth, "his majesty is a most patient man. There is ample time for my lady to dress."

I clapped my hand down on his shoulder. "Oh, but I _am_ dressed," I said heartily, feeling better now that I was baiting him. "Lead the way!"

Fenris heaved himself to his feet earning a disapproving look from Gilpin.

"Perhaps my lady's... _animal_... would be happier here?" he suggested tactfully.

I leaned in close to his face and gave him a feral grin. "He'll be quite happy with me, thank you," I said.

Fenris pulled his lips back in his own version of a smile and padded silently behind us to the door. I had grown accustomed to the uncanny way the huge wolf could move soundlessly, but the seneschal cast frequent anxious looks over his shoulder.

As we approached the throne room I began to have second thoughts about my appearance but by then it was too late. When we entered and saw what looked like a glittering horde of courtiers and royals gathered in the now scrubbed clean room, I wanted to turn tail and run. The walk down the long center aisle was torture and I found myself checking for the smears of blood that had decorated the room the last time I had been here, but the palace servants had been hard at work and there was no sign of the gory battle that had taken place here.

The man sitting on the throne was a surprise. Gone was the glazed-eyed, drugged out man I had encountered earlier. In fact, I would have hardly recognized the alert, powerful, and intelligent looking man who sat on the throne comfortably, secure in his authority.

I bowed low at the foot of the dais, and Fenris sat nonchalantly at my side.

"Your Majesty," I greeted him humbly.

The prince rose to his feet, a genuine smile on his face.

"My lady godmother," he replied, his voice carrying through the hall and reminding me unpleasantly of my introduction to his now dead wife. "We are glad to see you in good health."

I smiled awkwardly, not sure what to say.

"How shall we reward the one who has done so much for our kingdom?" he asked loudly.

I shuffled a foot. "It's okay," I said softly.

"Long have we been under the evil spell of the demon Cinderella," he continued. "You have saved our people and our royal self, for which we are forever in your debt."

Fenris spun to nip at the base of his tail and I kicked him with the side of my foot.

_Really? Fleas, now?_ I asked him.

_:What?:_ he turned innocent yellow eyes to me, totally unfazed by the pageantry around him.

"I couldn't have done it without Fenris, your majesty," I said, not wanting to take glory that didn't belong to me.

"Ah, yes," the prince turned to study the wolf who panted happily. "The N'jeri. It was fortunate that you had so powerful a beast spelled to your command."

"Umm," I risked a sideways look at Fenris. "Yeah." Now probably wasn't a good time to announce that Fenris wasn't under anyone's command. The prince might not appreciate me bringing a deadly and uncontrolled monster into his throne room.

"Please," the prince walked regally down the steps to take my hand. "Tell us, how can we reward you? Your rooms here at the palace are yours, as is anything you desire, but what else can we do to show our gratitude and appreciation?"

I blinked. I really hadn't thought much past fighting Cinderella. I'd fully expected to die, and planning for the future had seemed premature. I knew what I wanted most, but I doubted this prince had it in his power.

"I'd like to go home," I said quietly.

The prince's face fell. He looked sad and laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Our deepest apologies, my lady," he said in a low voice. "We do not know how to open the door to other realms. Ask whatever else you wish. Ask for half our wealth. Ask to be princess of this kingdom, anything that is within our hand we will not deny you."

I smiled wanly. "Thanks for the proposal," I said, "but it's okay. I don't think I'd make a very good princess."

The prince looked over my choice of clothing and grinned. "Perhaps an unconventional one, but we are sure that you would excel at whatever you set your mind to."

He clapped his hands and stepped back up the steps, raising his voice again so that all could hear.

"Our palace is yours," he announced. "The demon Cinderella had a collection of books that might hold the secrets you desire. As long as you wish you have an honored home here with us."

I perked up, although I doubted Cinderella's books would be easier to decipher than the Godmother's had been.

Remembering a debt I owed, I blurted out a request. "There is one thing, your majesty!"

He smiled benevolently down at me.

"There are these two women who work here," I explained. "They're Cinderella's step-sisters—"

The prince cut me off with a smile and beckoned to two finely dressed women who were standing at the foot of the dais.

"The Ladies Drusilla and Stasia," he announced. "With the return of my memory I have righted some of the wrongs that have been done."

Stasia rushed forward, looking much younger and happier. "How can we ever thank you, my lady?" she quivered, her eyes filled with emotion.

I patted her back and smiled. "I'm just glad to see it all worked out."

The prince turned to sit on his throne and our audience was clearly over. I attempted another low bow and gratefully exited the throne room.

***

Sitting on the palace parapet, I swung my heels lazily against the wall, my feet hanging out over a huge drop, a breathtaking view of the city spread out below me. Fenris raised himself to place his front paws up beside me and lean his furry head on my shoulder.

"I never thanked you," I said, throwing my arm around his neck.

He licked my ear playfully.

_:I'm still mad at you for leaving me:_ he said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Not my most brilliant plan."

We were quiet for a bit, each thinking our own thoughts. I might be homesick, but maybe being stuck here wasn't quite as horrible as I'd first thought.

"I still want to go home," I said aloud, wanting to make that clear.

_:Perhaps the answer is in the books:_ he said.

"If we can read them," I sighed.

_:Or perhaps we can find someone else who knows the way:_ he suggested.

I laughed nervously. "Another godmother? Or another demon? That doesn't seem like something to wish for."

Fenris gave a doggy shrug. _:Things rarely turn out the way we expect:_

I ruffled his fur gently. "You can say that again!"

# Epilogue

Far away, over the forests, over the plains, past the mountain ranges, and buried deep, deep underground, was a cavernous chamber. Dark tree roots crawled the walls, like huge vines in a jungle forest. Strange plants grew out of the stone crevices, their black leaves dripping with fetid water. Mold covered the floor in treacherous patches, splattered with the droppings of the bats that flittered back to roost in the cool damp.

In the center of the cave, sitting on a raised platform, and lit from above by a pale globe, was a glass coffin, beautifully bound by gold filigree, condensation beading off the lid to reveal the red velvet interior lining, upon which rested a body.

She was beautiful. Skin as white as snow. Raven dark hair, glossy and plaited neatly across her shoulder. Her eyes were closed in death, black lashes thick and curly, resting against her pale cheeks. Her lips were bright red, red as blood, and full, curved upwards in a peaceful smile.

She was dressed in rich clothing, her low neckline framing an alluring bosom, her hands daintily folded across her chest, long fingers graced with precious jewels.

In life she had been gorgeous, in death she was frozen forever in a moment of perfection, the glass coffin holding her for all eternity, a work of art to be admired and cherished.

Into the dark cave a figure entered. Short, stocky, with a long heavy beard, the newcomer picked his way carefully across the slippery floor. Familiar with the patches of moss and mold, he made his way quickly towards the coffin and mounted the platform.

Running a tender hand over the outside of the glass, he looked with loving care down at the dead beauty.

"My lady," he said, with bowed head. "I bring news from Cinderella's kingdom."

The dead woman's eyes snapped open.

The End

If you enjoyed this book, please take time to leave an honest review. Indie authors depend heavily on reviews to gain new readers. Your comments are valuable and greatly appreciated!

Other Books by Erin Evans:

Food for Love: A Magical Romance

The Rhine Maiden Series:

Don't Rhine on My Parade*

It Never Rhines But It Pours

A Little Rhine Must Fall

Rhine, Rhine, Go Away

Rhinebows and Unicorns

The Pernicious Princess Trilogy

The Shattered Shoe

The Malevolent Mirror

The Sallow Spindle

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* Author's Note: Don't Rhine on My Parade replaces a previously published book as Book One in the series. Major plot-lines were changed in order to make the story more accessible to a wider range of readers.

Don't Rhine on My Parade:

Piper Cavanaugh is The Rhine Maiden, a descendent of the sirens who lured sailors to their deaths with beautiful singing. After vowing never to use her supernatural power of command, she is more than happy to stay at home with her two little girls, but one tiny slip-up and her secret has come back to bite her – literally. Now she must win permission to join the United Supernatural Beings, or it's open hunting season on all of humanity. While juggling toddlers, keeping her husband in the dark, and babysitting her rebellious kid sister, Piper finds herself befriending a vampire, stealing from murderous witches, and doing battle with Satan, otherwise known as her mother-in-law. And she thought grocery shopping with her kids was hard!

It Never Rhines But It Pours:

Rhine maiden, Piper Cavanaugh, is on the job as a Guardian hit-man, but can she execute an innocent witch? When she discovers her target has been framed, Piper must find the true killer or risk losing her job – and her life. As she sorts through a dwindling number of suspects, Piper tries to keep her trigger-happy vampire friend in line, fix a back-fired spell, deal with some unwanted house guests, and still find time to mother her two toddlers. With every use of her power of command bringing her closer to immortality, Piper soon realizes, it never "rhines" but it pours!

A Little Rhine Must Fall:

Rhine Maiden, Piper Cavanaugh, is no stranger to unusual houseguests, but an alien and an Egyptian goddess might be more than even _she_ can handle. Throw in a homicidal vampire bent on revenge, and a pushy mother-in-law bent on redecorating, and Piper's world is in turmoil. With her life crumbling around her, and the future of mankind in the balance, Piper must reveal her secret ability and risk losing everything she holds dear.

Rhine, Rhine, Go Away:

There's nothing like a relaxing vacation, and that's just what Piper is having – nothing like a relaxing vacation. When work delays Mark, a heavily pregnant Piper takes Megan and Cassidy to the beach with Sarah along to "help." But Piper is all at sea when her daughters turn into mermaids, leaving her with little time to figure out how to switch them back before her husband arrives on the weekend. Drowning in troubles caused by a greedy carnival owner, a missing mer-prince, and a crafty Sea Witch, Piper soon finds herself in over her head!

Rhinebows and Unicorns:

Megan and Cassidy are thrilled with their new pet unicorn. Piper? Not so much. And when the annoying beast is joined by other "cryptids," Piper vows to make finding a new home for them a priority...right after she saves a young, incompetent witch from the WAND, provides parental advice to the Naga Chairman of the Synod, and tries to keep Leo's wedding planning from ruining Annabeth's big day. All this while feeding, changing diapers, and enjoying cuddle time with her new baby boy. Even though Piper's "To Do" List is full, one item needs to be added to the top – telling Mark the truth about her double life. But is it too late?

Food for Love:

If the way to a man's heart is through his stomach then it's no wonder that Cordelia McKellen is still single.

The McKellen family is known for their culinary artistry with one exception: Cordelia is a disaster in the kitchen. Burnt, undercooked, inedible—she's ruined recipes in more ways than she can count and has decided that she vastly prefers banging at the piano to banging pots and pans in the kitchen (much to the annoyance of her hot new neighbor). But when the terms of her great aunt's will are read, Cordelia must put aside her music to become a successful chef or forfeit her inheritance.

With the help of her best friend, Cordelia sets out to conquer the catering world, relying heavily on a secret gift from her great aunt: a mysterious chafing dish that brings new meaning to the term "creative cooking." Magical or not, catering is harder than Cordelia dreamed and her scrumptious neighbor is becoming increasingly distracting. Can this fast-food loving pianist win her inheritance and find true love or will she wind up with egg on her face?

A delicious romance, stuffed with Cordelia's unique and hilarious recipes, _Food for Love_ is a tasty treat for foodies and non-foodies alike!

# Sneak Peek: Food for Love

# 
Chapter One:

Food.

We all need it. We all eat it.

For some, it is the pinnacle of existence: the breath of creation and the highest form of enjoyment in life. For some, it is temptation: the forbidden fruit that hangs tantalizing within easy reach, promising instant gratification and instant pounds. For others, it is survival: the fuel that keeps the body going; each and every calorie is studied and dissected to create maximum balanced nutrition with usually minimum taste.

And then there are people like me. We like to eat, but we really don't care that much about what we put in our mouth. A double cheeseburger off the Dollar Menu is just as appetizing as filet mignon from Ruth's Chris, not to mention a whole lot cheaper.

I truly believe that most people are like me. They have to be. Otherwise I couldn't call myself "normal." It's those passionate people, the "foodies," or the health nuts, who are weird. I mean, come on, people! It's just food, right? Who cares if the cow was fed organic grass, and massaged every day while listening to Beethoven, before it was whacked over the head and chopped up into steaks? I don't. I just want to eat it.

I might sound a little defensive on the subject, and for good reason. I grew up in a family of food fanatics. Our food-worshipping mother served everything from _andouillette_ to _zabaglione_ , somehow totally leaving out childhood staples like pizza, or chicken nuggets and french fries. I still clearly remember the first time I had peanut butter. A new babysitter had been hired to watch us children while my parents drove over to Orlando for a fancy dress dinner. She apparently had been warned by a previous babysitter that there was nothing "normal" to eat in the house and had brought her own dinner. My older siblings turned up their well-trained noses at such plebian fare, but I was entranced.

Perhaps I do have more of my family's genes than I care to admit. At the young age of eight I became a peanut butter gourmand. A friend at school supplied me with my illegal substance and for a solid month I ate the heavenly ambrosia straight out of the jar at night, hidden beneath my bed, enjoying each and every sticky spoonful.

Of course, my older sister ratted me out, and my horrified mother quickly rid the house of my addiction, giving me multiple lectures on the dangers of saturated fats, and trying to tempt my palate with more refined tastes.

It was no use. I simply did not care about food the way the rest of my family seemed to. I think now that my mother was always trying to live up to the family name. My father's aunt, my Great Aunt Eleanor, was a famous chef and author of numerous cookbooks. Oddly enough, even with my older sister, who graduated from college with a culinary degree, and my older brother, who could name and date wine like Lord Peter Wimsey, I was the favorite great-niece.

Great Aunt Eleanor and I had a bond that went beyond food. As a child, I couldn't have cared less about the sales numbers on her latest cookbook or the glowing (or crushing) reviews on her latest restaurant. I enjoyed playing on her kitchen floor with delicious smells wafting from the oven, but I preferred Toll House cookies to _coq au vin_.

Surprisingly enough, it was Great Aunt Eleanor who supported my choice to _not_ follow the rest of the family, to branch out on my own and get a degree in... gasp! Horror! _Music._

"But, _darling,_ " my mother pleaded, "what will you _do_ with a music degree?"

"There's no work in the music field," my brother said, looking condescendingly over the edge of his wine glass.

"How will you meet an eligible husband?" my sister wailed, having gotten her degree _and_ an M.R.S. at the same time.

"Did you get a scholarship?" my practical father wanted to know.

I argued until I was blue in the face. There were plenty of jobs in the music industry. (I couldn't really name any, other than "concert pianist," at the time, but I was sure there were tons.) A determined person like myself would have no problem getting a job. (Again, a belief based more on hope than anything else.) I wasn't interested in finding a husband and since our family was extremely wealthy, I didn't see why _I_ should have to get a scholarship while my siblings had their degrees covered by Bank of Dad.

Dad pointed out that he had money because he didn't waste it on frivolous things. I snapped back that my sister's culinary degree wasn't doing anyone any good except for her husband. Mom broke down into tears at the thought of a child _not_ studying the goddess Food, and it was Great Aunt Eleanor who saved the day by staunchly backing my musical desires and even offering to pay for my schooling. The last was a clever piece of reverse psychology on her part as Dad would sooner die than have people think that he couldn't provide for his own children.

I got my Bachelor's in Piano and was the first McKellen to eat every meal in the college cafeteria and actually _enjoy_ it. I also discovered that a love of music, a determined attitude, and hours of practice were still not enough to get one hired as a concert pianist. Since that had been my only goal, I was a little at a loss after graduation. I didn't want to move back home. My sister, Kristyn, was on to cooking up baby number three. My brother, Tom, was deep in marriage planning with his fiancé, and the thought of being seen as "poor Cordelia," slinking home with her tail between her legs to mooch off of Mom and Dad was _not_ happening.

I _did_ move back to my home town. I was proud, but I wasn't stupid. Living in the same town as my parents meant that I would never starve and I could count on new articles of clothing appearing in my closet, courtesy of my mother.

I rented a small two bedroom apartment in the cheapest area of town and breathed a financial sigh of relief when a college friend agreed to come and share the rent with me. Charlene was a pharmaceutical rep, which, as far as I could tell, meant that she dressed in nice, if slightly skanky, clothing, drove around to doctors' offices with a black leather, rolling suitcase, and got taken out to lunch by every young, single doctor in the area (and quite a few that were neither).

I also got a job. It was even a job in my field, as I proudly pointed out to my mother, hoping that she would never decide to drop by and see where I worked. It was hard to sell the words "Music World" as a classy educational training facility, but I glossed over the long hours, the crappy pay, and the snotty young students, and instead focused on how glorious it was to train up the younger generation in the love and appreciation of the piano.

I tried to remind myself of those glories as I trudged up the two flights of stairs to my apartment after a long day of teaching. Why had I ever thought I would enjoy teaching piano? I had started the job with visions of molding young minds and expanding horizons, of getting to spend every day at the keyboard, my favorite place on earth. The truth was a rude wake-up call.

My day had started with siblings Colin and Alyssa, who had not touched their piano all week long. My gentle suggestions to their mother that they spend _at least_ 15 minutes a day in practice had fallen on deaf ears. We spent the entire hour lesson going over the exact same material that we had covered the week before, and the week previous to that, and the week previous to that.

Their mother, a flakey blond who spent the lesson time on her iPhone, had the gall to suggest at the end that her little darlings were not progressing as quickly as she expected and perhaps she should switch to another teacher in the studio.

I gritted my teeth and smiled. I would _love_ to pass the little horrors off to another teacher, but Colin and Alyssa had already been through all the piano teachers on staff and had been passed off to me as the "new girl," who still needed to build up a student base.

I couldn't really complain. We made minimum wage per hour plus 50% of lesson fees. I _needed_ Colin and Alyssa if I was going to make my half of the rent each month, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. I fully planned to continue the tradition of camaraderie at Music World and give my problem students to the next new piano teacher who came along. Given the turnover rate, that shouldn't be too far in the future.

My next student for the day was a four year-old boy with a mother who was _positive_ that she had birthed a musical prodigy. She held this belief although he showed no interest whatsoever in the piano and I spent the entire half hour lesson chasing him around the room and sitting him firmly back on the bench. Three months of this had taught him that there were white keys and black keys and that when you hit them, they made sound.

Students four, five, and six were nondescript. They at least knew the difference between a quarter-note and a half-note and sometimes could even be persuaded to play them in the correct rhythm.

I got a fifteen minute lunch break, which I usually enjoyed in the privacy of my car, playing Mozart over the stereo system and enjoying a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Today had been one of my favorite days of the week, since I had three Korean students in the early afternoon. Their parents forced them to practice an hour a day and they always came totally prepared and ready for the lesson. I had to be very careful in my correction since the slightest rebuke would send them spiraling down into despair, while praise rolled off their backs as meaningless hyperbole of which they were not worthy.

Their mothers insisted on sitting in the lesson room and each took copious notes, the better to reprimand their children with later. The atmosphere was always tense, but at least we were actually making music.

I had rounded out the day with a collection of bored teenagers, distracted kids unable to sit still, and even an adult man whom I was afraid was more there to spend time with me than to actually learn the piano.

All in all, I was beat. The air conditioner at the studio had been on the fritz and I was hot and sweaty with nerves worn to the quick. I wished, as I did every day, that I had been able to afford an apartment with an elevator, or at least one on the ground floor. I'd promised myself that all the stair climbing would make my legs supermodel firm and sexy. Since that had yet to happen, I was feeling cheated.

I fumbled with the keys and entered my home with a sigh of relief. It wasn't much, but it was mine. Paid for by me. Mom and Dad had wanted to set me up in a townhouse as a graduation present, but I had refused. I wanted to make it on my own. Silly, maybe, but it was still the way I felt.

Charlene was gone and had a left a note on the fridge. "Out to dinner with a client. Money for rent and food on the counter. Didn't have time to go to the grocery store. Sorry!"

I sighed. Part of our roommate deal was alternating weeks to the grocery store. Neither one of us wanted to do the shopping and took every opportunity to wiggle out of our week. Charlene was always on some crazy fad diet, her latest being protein shakes and energy drinks which she had purchased in bulk, so she was in no real rush to go shopping.

I opened the fridge and looked around. There was a half gallon of skim milk that was stamped with yesterday's date. I sniffed it and couldn't tell if it had soured or not. There was a half a head of wilted romaine in the vegetable drawer that was starting to go brown and gooey, and the jar of strawberry jelly that I had made my PB&J with that morning. I had used up the last of the sandwich bread, so while I had more peanut butter, there was nothing to put it on.

I opened the freezer and hit the jackpot. A package of Toll House cookie dough. The kind already stamped into squares for easy cookie baking. I opened the package and tested one square for quality.

My cell phone rang. It was my mother. She knew down to the minute what time I got off work and how long it would take me to get home and kick off my shoes. I had to answer or she would assume that I was dead in a ditch somewhere.

"Hello, darling!" she sang cheerfully. "How was your day today?"

I thought back over the frustrations and said, "Great!"

"How wonderful," she breezed on, "I was calling to see if you would like to come over for dinner tonight? I'm trying out a new recipe that I think is going to be divine!"

I broke off another square of cookie dough and thoughtfully chewed it. On the one hand, I _was_ hungry, and there was clearly not a lot to eat at the apartment. On the other, it was a half hour drive over the causeway to get to my parents' beachside house. Add in the half hour drive back home and it would be a late night. I sighed.

"No thanks, Mom," I said regretfully. "I just got in and I'm beat. Maybe some other time."

"I just worry that you're not eating well," my mother wheedled. Her idea of "eating well" was four star restaurants. If she knew that I had splurged and eaten at Taco Bell the other day she would have a heart attack. "You're looking so thin. Are you sure you're getting balanced meals?"

I wedged the cell phone between ear and shoulder and opened up the jar of peanut butter. "Yeah, Mom," I assured her. "I'm cooking dinner right now." I spread some peanut butter on another square of cookie dough and popped it in my mouth.

"What are you making?" She sounded thrilled. She still firmly believed that my inner chef was merely hiding, waiting to make a grand entrance one day and surprise the world. The fact that I couldn't consistently boil pasta without it being too hard or too mushy was totally lost on her.

"Umm," I tried to talk around a gooey mouthful. "I hadn't totally decided, but I'm preheating the oven as we speak." I reached over and clicked the oven on so that I would be telling the truth.

"I found a wonderful recipe the other day," she started to say before pausing. "Oh, dear. I've got a call from your father on the other line. I'll have to talk to you later! Love you!"

"Love you too, Mom," I said before she hung up.

I viewed the cookie dough and decided that since I had eaten half the package without cooking it that there was not really any point in dirtying a dish to cook the rest. I turned the oven back off and settled down at the counter to finish off the rest of the cookie dough and peanut butter. I'd just have to _make_ Char go to the grocery store tomorrow.

I'd made a serious dent in the package when my phone rang again. It was my mother. She sounded in shock.

"Are you okay, Mom?"

"Your Great Aunt Eleanor!" she gasped.

I felt a stab of fear. "What about Aunt Eleanor?"

"She's dead!"

Cordelia's Cookie Recipe

1 frozen package - Nestle Toll House Cookie Dough Bar

1 jar of peanut butter, crunchy or smooth

Preheat oven to 325°

Open package and break off pre-scored square. Spread liberally with peanut butter. Enjoy. Repeat as desired. Remember to turn off oven when finished.

