“Apologies, I didn’t mean to work you up and not finish.”
The genie blinks at me. “Poor choice of words, but I understand your meaning. You seem rather uptight. Perhaps a problem shared is a problem halved?”
It couldn’t make it any worse. “The Stirling brothers are attending a ball where my sister is to be forced into an arranged marriage with a prince. Traditionally, at this wedding, the eyes of the sisters are pecked out.”
The genie grimaces and settles himself lower, so his top half is floating in the middle of the table. “Ah, the cursed Cinderella Tale.”
“You know of it?”
“I’ve been around a long time. There are few fairy tales I haven’t come into contact with.”
I flop down into my armchair, making Hamish cluck at me in annoyance. She’s such an old woman. The genie rubs his wispy chin with his palm as he contemplates my predicament. I might not make any wishes, but I am open to suggestions from a powerful and wise being.
“Have you tried leaving?” he asks. Okay, I take it back. Powerful, but not so wise.
“They put some kind of spell on the door. I can’t leave and no one but them can enter.”
The genie floats backward and sticks his head through the external wall of the castle before reappearing with a sigh. “And you seem to be on the third floor. I predict at least broken bones, possibly death, if you try to exit through the window.”
“Agreed.”
He taps his chin with his index finger like he’s figuring out a complex puzzle. I sit back and await his response. Whenever I think hard, I need quiet without any interruptions. Otherwise, I would muddle something important, like the time Gwyneth sent me to the farmer for rice. I got distracted by Rosa and her basket of goodies that she was taking to her grandmother, and my brain translated it as lama and mice. It was a whole thing. Needless to say, lamas aren’t fans of mice.
“If you are willing to wish,” he says, raising an eyebrow at me.
I shake my head. “No wishes, these fairy tales are already biting me in the ass. I don’t need your backlash to add to it.”
He sighs like I’m unreasonable. “Fine, then I guess I will need to call in the cavalry.”
“Who?”
He snaps his fingers, and I glance around the room. Nothing happens apart from Eugene repositioning herself over the egg.
The genie rolls his eyes and snaps both fingers. “She’s being dramatic, needing both snaps.”
A shimmer of magic appears in the center of the room. I squint at it. A tear appears in the world, no bigger than my hand, and out shoots a tiny woman with fluttering wings, a cascade of red hair, and big blue eyes. Her purple dress floats on an unseen breeze, causing the glittery substance around her to waft out into the room. A little goes up my nose and I sneeze. She spins head over foot across the room and hits the wall with a tinkle of sparkles and bells.
“I don’t manage giants,” her melodic voice declares. “Trolls deal with you.”
“I’m no giant,” I tell her, leaning forward. She flies right up to me and my eyes cross a little as I stare at her body just in front of my face. “You are just tiny.”
She huffs like I’ve offended her. “Margaret,” the genie whispers like I can’t hear him. “You need to adjust your size.”
She blinks at him, then back at me. Apparently, the size of the genie is more trustworthy than the maiden. Her form grows until her bare feet are on the floor in front of me. She’s like a giant pixie. “Why am I here?” she asks. “You double snapped, using up your one request this annus.”
Aw, my genie used up his request for me. “Who are you?” I wonder. My hands are itching to touch those silvery wings, but I’m a little scared of the fierceness on her face.
“Why, darling, I’m the fairy godmother.”
“My fairy godmother?”
“No,thefairy godmother, I don’t belong to you. I came because I owe him one snap every annus for a situation he helped me with.” She points at the genie.
“Well, here we have a maiden who has been locked inside this room and is forbidden from attending the ball Charming is throwing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Girl, if it’s the favored Prince Charming, trust me, you are better off out of that fairy tale.”
“No, I’m not his Cinderella. That title has befallen my sister.”
