CHAPTER 11

Fairy Tales

I follow Kayla through the castle, my breath coming fast. Jack was telling the truth. Anna is being bullied by Stiltskin! My instincts were right: Anna is miserable and wants to come home.

We race past the pumpkin patch and the vegetable garden and beyond the magic carpet racetrack into a woodsy area close to the Hollow Woods. In the distance, I can see Prince Sebastian and Beauty’s castle. I don’t see a fairy hut anywhere.

Kayla stops near a cluster of trees. “Ready?” she asks.

I look around. “Ready for what? Where’s your house?” Instead of answering me, Kayla blows something glittery in my face. I start to cough as the scent of rosemary and lavender overwhelms me. My hands start to glow, moving from my fingers all the way to my feet. My body starts to tingle as the trees in front of me swirl like the mirror in my hands.

Kayla grabs my arm, and then I’m falling, falling, falling. Suddenly, I stop. My hands aren’t tingling. I’m still holding the mirror. My arms aren’t glowing. Holy gingerbread! I stare up at the tree I was just standing next to. It looks about a hundred feet tall! So do the blades of grass that surround us! We are standing at the base of the tree trunk, and somehow I’m now…

“Six inches tall,” Kayla says. “Cool, huh?”

Even the book and the mirror have shrunk!

Kayla knocks on the tree trunk, and a small door appears. “I didn’t tell you about the shrinking part because it freaks people out. You should have seen Headmistress Flora the first time she visited!” Kayla laughs. The door opens, and Kayla leads me inside a sitting area. “The secrecy is for our own protection after all that happened with You-Know-Who. Fairies can be full size or small, and for the time being, we’ve kept our house tiny. We save a lot on rent this way too. Mother?” Kayla calls. “I’m home! I brought Gilly.”

Kayla leads me through the house, where I pass doors marked with signs that say Fairy Garden, Herb Room, and Flying Training Room. As we near the kitchen, I smell the blueberry fairy cake Kayla was talking about earlier. Kayla’s mom is floating around the kitchen as pots whisk themselves. I watch as she drops a handful of spices into a pot, and it bubbles over. Then her mom wands the pot, and the bubbling ceases. Sensing me, she turns around. Her eyes are the same amber shade as Kayla’s.

“Gillian,” she says, pulling me in for an embrace. “I’m so glad you could join us for supper. How are you doing, dear?”

“I’m fine,” I say in surprise. Kayla’s right—it’s as if her mother doesn’t remember me helping her out of the forest the other night at all. A mother would have mentioned that sort of thing. “Thank you for having me, Ms.…”

“Please, call me Angelina.” She stands back and looks at me. “How are you holding up? Are you sleeping okay? Eating? Consumed with revenge?” I blink in surprise. “Kayla told me about your sister Anna joining the Stiltskin Squad. I can only imagine what you’re feeling—probably a lot like Kayla did without us. Not that I know or remember much.” She smiles. “But you will get through this test. That’s all it is, really. A test. We take many of them in life. Let’s get you fed, and we’ll talk all about it.”

“Thank you,” I say, slightly embarrassed by the fuss. My mind is still on the book and what it could mean.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Kayla’s mom can read me well. Fairies usually do. “Did your shrinking spell go okay?” She touches my ears. “Sometimes the ears get misshapen during the shrinking process, and you wind up with ears that look like mine.” She motions to her pointy lobes. “But yours look fine! They could use some earrings to liven up this dull uniform though.” She studies my face for a second. “How do you feel about silver half-moons?”

“Mother,” Kayla says impatiently. “There’s no time for ear piercing.” She motions for me to take the book out. I place it on the table. “When I got to Gilly’s room, she was reading this. Do you recognize this book? Is it the one you keep talking about? It looks sort of familiar to me.”

Kayla’s mom’s smile vanishes.

Immediately, her shoulders droop, and the wooden spoon in her left hand clatters to the floor. It’s like she’ll do anything to get away from us. She looks wildly for an exit, then flattens herself like a gingerbread man against the closed kitchen door. She seems unable to even speak, let alone scream. Then she starts to convulse. Kayla and I look at each other in alarm.

“Mother!” Kayla cries. “Gilly, get the book out of her sight.”

I try to grab it but feel a zap. The book is refusing to move again. Instead, its pages flutter open, whipping by at light speed even as the book whispers words and phrases I don’t understand.

Kayla’s mom is near tears as she continues to shake violently. Kayla and I try everything to get the book to stop, but no matter what we do, the book vanquishes the distractions.

Finally, Kayla’s mom grabs her own wand from the counter and points it at the book. Her arm is shaking, but her voice is clear. “Finireto!” she shouts, and the book closes. The glowing ceases, the voices stop, and the book becomes just a book once more. Kayla scoops it up and tosses it through the doorway into the living room. Her mom sinks to the kitchen floor, mumbling the same thing over and over.

“I remember! He knew, he knew! I remember!” she repeats again and again.

“I think she’s having some sort of breakthrough,” Kayla tells me. “I need to get my sisters and Professor Harlow. Can you stay with her?”

“Of course.” I lean down by Kayla’s mom. Her pointy, pale ears are turning a vibrant shade of pink. Her normally amber eyes are muddy black as if she’s been possessed. “Angelina?” I try. “You’re okay. Kayla is getting your other daughters.” She keeps mumbling. “And Professor Harlow. Remember the Evil Queen?” She stops and looks at me. “The book is gone. You don’t have to ever see it again.”

Angelina grabs my wrists hard. “That book is mine. I wrote it!” Any trace of kindness on her face is gone, replaced with something much darker. “It will always follow me because it holds the truth about him, and I’m the fairy tasked with recording it. He can’t know it’s here. Where did you find it?”

“He?” I’m confused. It dawns on me. “Do you mean Rumpelstiltskin?”

“Don’t say his name!” She presses harder, and it hurts. “Where did you find that book?”

“It was in the library,” I say, wincing.

“Impossible!” Angelina’s face is racked with pain. “Where did you get it? I haven’t seen it since before he cursed me. How did you open it?”

“Open it? It’s a book,” I remind her as she yanks harder, leaving nail marks on my skin.

“That book can only be opened by fairies! It would never be in a reform school library, unless”—her face softens slightly—“someone brought it here to be opened. Who gave it to you?”

“It just appeared!” I insist.

She lets go of my wrists. “And it let you see what I had written, like it once did for Alva?” I nod, and her face darkens again. “Alva was evil. Are you?”

“No! I’m not!” My voice is sure and clear. “I’m on the good side.” I move backward to avoid her grasp.

She studies me closely. “I see. Then how…” She looks upward. “Why would the book trust you? It’s never trusted anyone but me and Alva before. And him. He took it from me with her help.” Her breathing comes faster now again. “Maybe he knows he needs me to finish his story and tell him how it ends.”

She’s not making any sense. I grab a cloth from the stove handle and dab her sweaty forehead. “You say you wrote his villain story?” I’m afraid to say his name in her presence.

“Don’t you understand, child?” Angelina closes her eyes as if the memory is too much to bear. “Villain stories are written by fairies that foresee potential futures. The future is a hard thing to predict, but my family has been blessed—or cursed—with the gift to view glimpses.” She opens her eyes. “He knew I had that gift, so he nurtured it, and I fell for his promises, like many had before. I could see his future, and I foolishly told him what I saw. I wrote it all down in that book!” Her voice grows angry again.

“And then when something I wrote down made him upset, he trapped me in the same wood as those book pages, deep in the fairy forest. He wanted no one to see that book or its theories, so he hid me away, kidnapping Kayla and making her work with Gottie for my girls’ and my freedom. But now I’m back, and so is that book.” Her lower lip trembles. “If he knows the book is here, he may already be too. He wants to know the ending. And if he doesn’t like it, he’ll expect me to change it.” She closes her eyes. “He never understood it doesn’t work that way.”

If he were here, we’d know, wouldn’t we? I need to keep her calm till help arrives.

“The book must have sensed Kayla’s presence, which is why it opened,” I realize. “It only read us one paragraph, and we didn’t understand a word of it. Something about him and Alva?” Angelina’s eyes flutter closed again. “It said they make music together, which seems pretty far-fetched. His speaking voice is dreadful. There is no way he can carry a tune.”

A look of recognition comes over Angelina’s face just as Professor Harlow bursts through the door with her wand illuminated. Kayla, Jocelyn, Emma Rose, and Brooke Lynn are right behind her. Headmistress Flora is last, her ears pointy and bright green. A mass shrinking spell seems to have many ramifications.

“I remember,” Angelina tells the room. “I remember everything.” The room is silent, giving her room to process what she’s actually saying. “I was the one tasked with writing Rumpelstiltskin’s villain book. When he liked my predictions, he was happy. But when he wasn’t pleased with the direction of things, he got angry. I came to a part in the book that was frightening, and I didn’t want to keep going.”

Kayla reaches for her mother’s hand.

“He didn’t want me to stop writing, but I feared if I kept going, he’d learn the ingredients he needed for something… What was it?” Angelina thinks for a moment, and her eyes widen. “It was for a spell! A dark spell that would allow him to go back to the beginning of our kingdom, before Enchantasia or our royal courts ever took power.” Her eyes slowly return to their eerie amber shade. “I couldn’t allow that to happen, so I didn’t want to know his ending. I refused to write anymore.”

“Oh, Mother,” Kayla says, near tears.

“Impossible.” Harlow touches her right ear, which is pointy and twice its normal size. “I don’t mean to contradict you, but are you sure your memory isn’t muddy? Villains can’t read their own books, and they certainly never know what fairy is in charge of their stories. Believe me, I’ve tried to find out who wrote mine, and no amount of threatening ever revealed the source.”

“Rumpelstiltskin was too vain to allow his book to be written without him knowing the fairy who was doing the writing,” Angelina explains. “I have no clue what deal he must have made to find out it was me, but once he knew, he visited me daily to see how my writing was going. I didn’t trust him at first, but he finally wore me down with his generosity. He was always bringing us what we needed! Food, clothes, presents.”

“Bribery works wonders,” Harlow acknowledges.

Angelina’s face flushes. “I am ashamed to say I liked the attention. Then, he became friendly with my girls, including Kayla, who was so little at the time.” Her eyes grow teary as she turns to her daughter. “He was so fond of you. He made me believe I was his family. He told me he wanted what was best for me—to see me become Fairy Queen and rule the forest—and I foolishly believed his trickery.”

“Just like Anna did,” I say aloud.

“Until you stopped telling him his story.” Flora fills in the details. “Do you remember what happened then?”

“Yes.” Angelina covers her face with her hands, pulling her hand away from Kayla. “Once I wrote about the spell he was after, I became worried he would use it. His curse would destroy Enchantasia! So I stopped writing, and he became furious.”

“Are you sure you have the spell right?” Harlow asks. “There is no magic that can rewind time. If there were, every villain would use it.”

“There is such magic, but it is well hidden,” Angelina explains. “I didn’t want him to know the ingredients he needed to complete his spell, so I stalled. I told him I felt uncomfortable going further with the story because I had been breaking the fairy code of honor by letting him know his story. He became infuriated and vindictive. Soon, I barely recognized the man who used to feed Kayla her evening bottle.”

“Gross,” Kayla says.

Angelina looks up at us wearily. “He disappeared for a while, so I thought maybe he’d given up. Then he showed up and gave me an ultimatum. If I didn’t finish the book, he would tell everyone that I had broken my fairy vow by sharing his story with him. I’d be banished from the fairy kingdom, and so would the girls. I knew I had no choice. I remember giving him the book with a false list of ingredients, and when he realized his spell wouldn’t work, he made sure I was no longer a threat to him.” She closed her eyes again. “Obviously he wants me to have the book back so I can finish the story.”

“And you must,” Harlow insists. “It’s your fairy duty. But now, more than ever, we have to protect you and the book to make sure he doesn’t ever see it.”

“I can’t.” Angelina starts to shake again. “I don’t want to know how it all ends.”

“Well, we do!” Harlow snaps, getting angry. “You may hold the key to stopping him. You must start writing the book again and find out the ingredients he needs so we can make sure he doesn’t get his hands on them.”

“No!” Kayla cries. “If she finishes the book, he’ll find her and torture her to tell him its secrets. It’s too dangerous!”

Everyone begins to argue, and Angelina raises her hand for silence.

“Harlow is right. I must finish writing. We all need to know how his story progresses from here,” Angelina whispers. “It’s my duty. I already broke too many fairy promises as it is.” She shakes her head and looks at me. “No wonder he broke my spell. He made it seem like it was part of your deal with him, but in truth, he needed me to finish his story. He always has an ulterior motive.”

“Have you found out anything about this spell he needs to work on?” Flora asks.

“He knows he needs the music of true love to start unlocking it,” she tells us. “And music usually involves an instrument. I know the one he seeks—a golden harp. The only one I know of is in Cloud City. If he has magic beans, he can reach it.”

“He already has magic beans,” I say worriedly. “We saw some in his office when he was at FTRS.”

“Then he can reach the harp,” Angelina says. “If he and his true love try to use it together, he’ll have the first piece of his spell in place. When I was writing the book, I suspected his true love was Alva.”

“That must be why he wanted to come to FTRS in the first place—to find Alva,” Flora guesses. “But he’s out of luck. She’ll be doing no singing in her condition.”

Harlow looks thoughtful. “If he wanted that book to get back to Angelina, it’s curious that it showed itself to Gillian and found its way here.” She tsks. “Careful, Cobbler. I suspect he knows he can play you.”

“I’ve tricked him once,” I say defiantly. “He can’t play me.” I think back to how I thought I saw Alva’s finger move once. “How long do you think your magic will keep Alva trapped in stone?”

“Forever?” Harlow guesses. “That’s my hope.”

“Nothing is forever,” Angelina says. “Not magic, not curses, not happily ever afters. If I complete the book—and I must—and he forces me to tell him the ending…”

I slump down against the wall next to her. I finish her thought. “Then he’ll finish his spell, and Enchantasia as we know it will be done for.”

“Not on my watch,” Harlow says fiercely. She looks at us. “We should all be on alert. Rumpelstiltskin obviously has a plan, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it is already in motion.”