“Rank!” Donnabella called to him. She was using magic to stir her morning tea. When the witch wiggled her finger, the teaspoon moved on its own. “Rank, I need you for something.”
Rank preferred unusual attire, and his chosen clothing continued the trend. He paired a pale gray coat with a blindingly bright yellow tie and brown leather breeches. Beneath his checkered newsboy cap, his hair was slightly messier than usual. And, of course, he never went anywhere without his mad grin. “What do you need, ma'am?” Rank asked, dipping into an obedient bow.
“There's a Ruby Wyrm slumbering on Rainer's Crag, and that's a bit too close to home. I need someone to drive it away.” When her tea was ready, she magically moved the spoon to a basin of dirty dishes. “You're good at handling dragons. Would you mind?”
Rank rubbed his chin as he contemplated. After a short pause, he answered, “Sure. I s'pose I could do that. I'll need to borrow one of the girls, though.”
“That would be fine. Take the stepsister, though.” A smile flitted across Donnabella's lips as she sipped her tea. “I don't care if that one gets eaten by a dragon.”
Rank whistled merrily as he lowered the hatch and bounded down the stairs. He didn't bother with a greeting—he just lifted Terra into his arms and walked away with her.
“Hey!” Terra shrieked. “What are you doing? Where are we going?”
“That's a lot of questions,” Rank complained as he carried her up the steps. “I don't like questions... unless they're riddles. Riddles are fun.” When they reached the top, he closed the hatch with a kick.
“But... surely you can give me some kind of clue?” Terra whined. “Are you dumping me in the middle of nowhere like you always wanted to?”
“No.”
She tried to guess again. “Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?”
“No. I'd never do that, love,” Rank assured her as he plopped her into the driver's seat of a tiny curricle.
“Is this...” a horrified expression passed over Terra's face, “a date?”
“It can be a date, if that's what you want.” Rank's eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he fastened a horse to the curricle.
“I most certainly don't!” Terra's hands folded in her lap. As he climbed into the seat beside her, the vehicle lurched. “Please tell me where we're going. I'm tired of guessing.”
“We're just taking a little trip, sweetheart,” Rank answered. With a gentle flick of the reins, he urged the horse into a trot. “We're taking a little ridesy-widesy around the area.”
“A ridesy-widesy,” she apathetically repeated. “For no purpose whatsoever?”
“Nah. We have a purpose.”
“What purpose?” Terra could feel her eyes narrowing. She was beyond frustrated, and now her face was reflecting it.
“I couldn't spoil the surprise. That wouldn't be any fun.” Rank started whistling again. As his left hand held the horse's reins, his right arm slid around Terra's shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she snarled at him. “Don't touch me, you creep!”
“Can I put my hand here?” Rank's hand dropped to her knee.
“No! You most certainly may not!”
“How about here?” His fingers traced the curve of Terra's neck. This time, the touch was so intimate, she swatted his hand away.
“No! Stop touching me!”
Within a few minutes, he found the Ruby Wyrm. The massive, jewel-encrusted red dragon was slumbering on top of a tall plateau.
“Oh my god... a dragon!” Terra gasped. “I'm so tired of dragons. Why are there so many of them? It's getting a bit ridiculous, don't you think? Are all humans fated to be food for giant--”
Rank silenced her with a kiss. As soon as she felt his mouth on hers, Terra's fist bashed against the side of his head.
“What are you doing?” she roared. “I never gave you permission to kiss me! For goodness sake, I don't even like you!”
Rank seized the stewing stepsister's wrist and twirled his wand a few times. When the stick stopped twirling, massive icicles soared from its tip. The icicles attacked the sleeping dragon, which awoke with a ground-shaking roar.
“It's weak against ice,” Rank casually told her as the dragon soared into the sky.
“I know that already,” grumbled a scowling Terra. “I study dragons. Remember?”
“Aye.” Rank watched the retreating dragon until it disappeared over a cliff. “I used your anger to make my ice bigger and better. I figured you'd be angry if I tried to kiss you. I was right.” He smirked at her. “I'm glad it worked.”
* * *
“I sent the ransom note two days ago. Should I be concerned that I have yet to receive a reply?” Donnabella was asking the question to no one in particular. Fenix was standing behind her. His blue-gray eyes were dripping with sorrow as he rubbed his mistress' shoulders. Pitch and Jostle were sitting in front of her, secretly snickering about Fenix's massage. Cinderella was in the back of the room, handcuffed and chained to the floor.
“You sent the letter with a carrier pigeon, right?” Fenix asked. “It probably took the bird a full day to fly there, and it will probably take it another day to fly back.”
“Perhaps.” As Fenix's hands expertly kneaded her shoulders, Donnabella closed her eyes and moaned. “Still, I'm surprised I haven't heard something by now. The wait is killing me.” She suddenly pointed at Gloriosa's urn, which was set beside her feet. “Oh well. While I wait, I might as well entertain myself. Pitch... rub the urn and ask for a wish.”
“Really?” The stockier twin's eyes were wide with anticipation. “You're letting me ask for a wish?”
“Certainly. And make it a good one. You don't want to make it too easy for Gloriosa to fulfill.”
Pitch grabbed the urn and stroked it three times. By the end of the third stroke, there was a loud popping noise. Tiny Gloriosa, freed from the urn, was floating around the room in a ball of light.
“I'm here to grant your wish,” Gloriosa morosely reported. “What would you like?”
“Ooo, ooo! I know!” Pitch exclaimed. He made the decision so quickly, his brother was glaring at him. “I need a new pair of trousers! These have a hole in the bum.”
Gloriosa's eyelashes fluttered. She was expecting something more complex—like a house or a massive bag of money. “Are you... sure?”
“Aye. There's nothing I need more,” Pitch insisted. “Oh... and can they be brown? I like brown trousers.”
“V-very well...” With a wave of Gloriosa's hand, new brown breeches appeared on the spotty twin's stumpy legs. As soon as the wish was granted, she disappeared. Cinderella assumed she was back in the urn.
“Ohhhhh!” Pitch cooed as he studied his new trousers. “These ones fit so much better than the last ones! It's like they was tailored to fit me!”
“Pitch...” Donnabella disapprovingly clicked her tongue. “I'm disappointed in you. You could have asked for anything, you know.”
“I know.” When Pitch nodded, a sheaf of red hair tumbled into his eyes. “There was nothing I needed more than a new pair of trousers, though.”
With a disappointed grumble, Donnabella turned her attention to her second red-haired student. “Now it's your turn, Jostle,” she announced. “Rub the urn and make a wish.”
Jostle silently collected the urn from his brother. As one hand rubbed the unpolished surface, his other hand scratched his head.
Once again, there was another loud pop, and Gloriosa reappeared. This time, she apathetically asked, “What do you want?”
“Hmm...” Jostle scratched his chin, which was covered in tiny ginger bristles. “Dunno.”
“Well, you'll have to think of something,” Gloriosa encouraged him. “To be honest, I'm ready to go back to the urn. I'd rather not be subjected to Donnabella's face, ugly as it is.” For a few tense seconds, the witches glared at each other.
“I guess...” Jostle clenched his teeth and hesitated. “I guess... maybe... I'd like a box of sweets? Chocolates, preferably.”
His request was followed by a groan from Donnabella.
“Very well.” When Gloriosa snapped her fingers, Jostle's chocolates appeared in a puff of smoke. “I hope they're to your liking, young man.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she returned to the urn.
“You're idiots. Both of you!” Donnabella complained. “I've been alive for centuries, but I've never met anyone stupider, I swear.”
Jostle and Pitch didn't seem to be affected by her criticism. They were too thrilled by their breeches and sweets to worry about their teacher's opinion.
“After that embarrassing spectacle, I think I'm going to return to my room and lie down,” Donnabella announced as she rose from her stool. “Fenix, take Cinderella back to the cellar. I wanted her to witness Gloriosa's torture, but these idiots made such simple wishes. It was a waste of everyone's time!”
“Very well, ma'am,” Fenix obediently replied. “It will be done.”
Before leaving the room, Donnabella indulged herself in a light brush with his lips. As soon as she was gone, he freed Cinderella from her chains and escorted her to the cellar.
“This is awful!” Cinda whispered when they reached the stairs. “I hate to see you like this, Fenix! You're basically her slave!”
“I know...” Fenix groaned.
“There must be something you can do to free yourself,” Cinda continued in a whisper. “To free us.”
“I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. I've been under the spell for nearly a year.”
“A year?” Cinda hissed. She kept wondering if Fenix had been forced into Donnabella's bed, but there was no way she could ask such an intimate question. Maybe she didn't want to know the answer? “I'm so sorry, Fenix!”
“Yeah...” When they reached the cellar, he gave her a pitying frown. “I'm sorry too.”