by Lou Kuenzler
But best of all, built high on the cliffs above the horseshoe harbor, was Tall Towers Princess Academy, with its marble walls, cool courtyards, and twisting towers spiraling high into the cloudless blue sky.
“Wow,” said Grace. “Wowee!”
“It’s beautiful,” breathed Scarlet.
“It’s perfect,” said Izumi, speaking for only the second time since they had left the mainland. “Like someone designed it from a dream.” She was sketching like crazy, her hand darting backward and forward across the page.
“Please make your way up the cobble path and into the main courtyard,” said Lady DuLac. “Don’t worry. It is just you First Years here at the moment. The princesses in all the other classes will arrive when the term starts officially tomorrow.”
I wonder if I will still be here by then, thought Grace. She couldn’t bear the thought of being sent home—not now that she had seen Tall Towers for herself. It was like an enchanted fairy-tale palace.
“Come on.” Grace linked arms with Scarlet. She was a little scared of Izumi, who seemed so serious as she concentrated on her drawing, but Grace held out her arm for her too as Izumi put her sketchbook away. “If you two are looking after me, I can’t trip over my big feet and fall flat on my nose,” she said.
Izumi smiled.
The princesses all chatted happily—gasping and pointing, calling out to each other as they hurried up the winding path through rose gardens, under archways of honeysuckle, and past graceful statues and tinkling fountains.
Even Precious was smiling, and the twins helped Grace to her feet when she tripped over a little stone birdbath.
But the minute the girls turned in to the grand marble courtyard, the chat and laughter suddenly stopped. Poof—it was as if a candle had been snuffed out.
A stern gray woman was standing in front of them, straight as a pillar, glaring at them and barking out their names, which she ticked off a list with a black feather quill.
“Do you think she’s a witch?” mouthed Grace.
Scarlet made a noise like a frightened foal.
“No. I am not a witch,” said the woman, who certainly seemed to have magical powers for hearing even the tiniest whisper. “I am Fairy Godmother Flint, and I do not expect such rudeness from a young princess.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Grace, standing as straight as she could. The fairy godmother looked her up and down as if she was a tall weed in a field of flowers. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I—”
“Silence.” The fairy godmother held up a thin, bent finger. “I am your First Year teacher.”
Grace remembered her mother saying once that all the teachers at Tall Towers Academy were fairy godmothers. In the storybooks Grace had at home, fairy godmothers were always soft, plump people with shining eyes and rosy cheeks. Fairy Godmother Flint was nothing like that. She was whip-thin, with a chin as sharp as a pencil and eyes the color of stone.
“What is your name?” asked the fairy godmother, running the scratchy tip of her quill down her list.
“I’m Princess Grace….”
“Hmm.”
There was a silence, which seemed to Grace to last a thousand heartbeats.
“I have no Princess Grace on my list,” said Fairy Godmother Flint at last. “Let me see your parchments and scrolls.”
“Oh…erm…” Grace held out her empty hands. “I don’t have any parchments…or any scrolls.”
“Nothing?” Fairy Godmother Flint raised one thin eyebrow like the wing of a bat. “That is most irregular. No scroll of acceptance to the school? No parchment of registration? No completed uniform list?”
“No.” Grace smiled helplessly. “I didn’t know I would need anything like that. My father heard Precious was coming. She’s my cousin, you see…and he…he just sort of thought it would be all right if I showed up too. We hoped…because I am a princess and everything…that might be how it worked.”
“That is not how it works,” said the fairy godmother. “I have only twelve names on my list. There are only ever twelve princesses in a class at Tall Towers Academy. That is the tradition. Your name is not on my list. You are number thirteen. You must go home.”
Precious was almost dancing with delight. “Told you. I said you weren’t supposed to be here.”
“Home?” The word stuck in Grace’s throat. She hadn’t even made it out of the courtyard and into the main school.
“Wait.” Grace spun around, desperately searching for Lady DuLac.
“Please, Headmistress,” she called, spotting her standing a little way off beneath the shade of an old peach tree. “Don’t make me leave. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“It seems very simple,” said Lady DuLac. She reached up and picked a glistening golden fruit from the branch above her. “We will let the unicorns decide.”
The headmistress stepped forward and addressed the princesses. “As you probably know, every girl who attends Tall Towers receives a unicorn on her first day at the school. These creatures will be your loyal companions—you will ride them, groom them, and care for them every day that you are here.”
A murmur of excitement ran around the courtyard.
“I demand one with an emerald horn!” cried Precious. “My daddy says I can take whichever one I like.”
“We want matching ones. With golden hooves,” roared the twins.
“Ah,” said Lady DuLac, never raising her voice. “That is the point. A princess does not get to choose her own unicorn. They choose you. These magical beasts come out of the Jade Forest, bringing all the wisdom and knowledge they have drunk from the mountain streams.”
Grace’s heart pounded. More than anything else, she had been dreaming of getting her own unicorn when she came to Tall Towers.
“If no unicorn comes forward for you, then you must return home,” said Lady DuLac, touching Grace gently on the shoulder. “Do you understand that?”
Grace nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. Her voice caught in her throat. “I understand.”
Everything would be decided by the unicorns.
Grace jiggled from foot to foot.
She had longed to meet a real unicorn all her life. Now it mattered more than ever. If no unicorn came for her, she would have to leave the school, and her dream of learning to be a real princess would be shattered.
“Do you think they’ll bite?” Scarlet gulped as the princesses gathered under the big shady tree in the courtyard.
“No. Unicorns don’t eat princesses. Just peaches.” Grace smiled.
“Welcome, my dears.” A plump, happy-looking man with a long ginger-colored mustache had appeared beneath the tree. “I am Sir Rolling-Trot, the school riding coach,” he said, bowing with a flourish. “Come and pick a fruit. We’re going to make our way to Silver Meadow. When we get there, each princess must hold out a peach. The unicorn that chooses you will step out of the forest and eat from your hand.”
Here goes nothing, thought Grace. She stretched up and picked the biggest, ripest peach she could reach.
But the squishy fruit was so ripe, juice squirted everywhere.
“Whoops!” cried Grace.
Scarlet jumped sideways like an elegant ballet dancer, just in time to avoid getting sprayed with juice.
But Precious was not so quick. A sticky yellow spurt hit her right in the eye. “Look out!” she wailed. Her dress was spattered with juice. “I’ll get you back for this, Grace.”
“Sorry,” Grace mumbled. “I just thought a nice ripe fruit would be best.”
“It doesn’t matter which peach you have,” spat Precious. “No unicorn is ever going to pick you, Grace. You don’t belong at Tall Towers.”
“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” said Grace. But for a moment, her eyes tingled on the edge of tears as she hoped that Precious was wrong. She looked down at the soggy fruit in her hand. Sweet, sticky juice dripped between her fingers and splashed onto her shoes.
“Ready, my dears?” said Sir Rolling-Trot
. “Follow me.” He raised his sword and lunged forward as if he was leading a charge of knights on horseback.
Scarlet hung back for a moment, her face as white as a scroll.
“Come on,” said Grace, wiping her sticky fingers on her skirt and grabbing Scarlet’s hand. “We’ll do this together.”
They followed the other princesses out of the courtyard and through the grounds toward Silver Meadow.
“Shhh!” said Sir Rolling-Trot as they reached the edge of a paddock dotted with wildflowers. “This is where the unicorns will come.”
“Look,” whispered Izumi. She was staring into a haze of mist where the meadow joined the dark Jade Forest. “I can see one already. It’s as white as moonlight.”
The unicorn’s horn glinted in the pale sun.
Grace gasped. She had never seen anything so beautiful in all her life. “Come on!” she urged, holding out her peach along with the other princesses. “Come to me, beauty.”
But the little creature trotted straight across the grass and nibbled the small, firm fruit from Izumi’s hand.
“Good show!” cried Sir Rolling-Trot, holding out a length of silver rope for Izumi to tie around the unicorn’s neck. “Look after him well, Princess. From now on, he will always be yours.”
“Thank you, sir.” Izumi curtsied. Then she smiled at Grace. “Do you mind if I call him Beauty? Like you said when you held out your peach just now.”
“Of course not.” Grace dearly wished this first unicorn had chosen her. She would know then that she belonged at Tall Towers for sure. But she couldn’t help smiling at Izumi. “Beauty is the perfect name for him,” she said. He suited the artistic princess so well.
Six more unicorns had come out of the forest now, and Grace held out her soggy peach, wishing one of them would come toward her. Not all of them were white; some were gray or dappled. A golden palomino made its way straight to Precious.
“I shall call him Champion,” she crowed, snatching the rope from Sir Rolling-Trot and flinging it around the unicorn’s neck. “I’m going to paint his hooves silver and tie his mane and tail with ribbons.”
“Good idea.” The twins clapped with delight. They already had two fat, pink strawberry roan unicorns that they’d christened Cherry Puff and Berry Pie.
Precious led her golden unicorn away. She was pulling on the rope and jabbing at him to hold his head high. “Stand straight, you stupid animal,” she snapped.
Poor Champion, thought Grace.
Just then a pale, shimmering unicorn that glistened like diamonds trotted forward and took the peach from Visalotta’s ringed fingers.
“Ooooh. You should call him Sparkles,” cooed the twins.
“Maybe.” Visalotta shrugged. Even the magnificent unicorn didn’t make her smile.
Precious, meanwhile, looked like she was going to faint with envy as her rich friend slid a rope around the creature’s shiny neck.
“I wish this was all over.” Scarlet shivered, squeezing Grace’s hand. “We’re the last two to be picked.”
She was right. They were the only princesses still without a unicorn. Grace wanted to run into the forest and search among the trees. She would climb the mountains if she had to. Anything to find a unicorn of her own.
But Scarlet was holding her tight. “Don’t let go of me,” she begged.
A pretty, dappled gray unicorn had come to the edge of the forest. Grace squeezed Scarlett’s hand.
“Look,” gasped Grace. “I bet this one’s yours—he looks so friendly.”
“She,” corrected Sir Rolling-Trot. “That unicorn is a girl.”
The little mare trotted closer.
Scarlet lowered her peach.
“You take her, Grace,” she said. “There don’t seem to be any more, and you must get a unicorn or you’ll be sent away from the school.”
Grace shook her head. “This one is for you. I’m sure of it.”
There was no doubt. The pretty little unicorn was just right for Scarlet. She trotted quietly forward and gently bowed her head so that the trembling princess could stroke her ears.
“She’s so soft,” whispered Scarlet. “I’ll call her Velvet.” She turned and smiled at Grace. “You were right. There was nothing to be scared of at all.”
But Grace barely heard her. She was staring hard at the forest.
The mist had cleared, and the meadow was empty.
“Strange,” said Sir Rolling-Trot, twirling his ginger-colored mustache and striding up and down. “I’ve never had a princess without a unicorn before.”
“It’s because Grace is extra,” said Precious. “She’s number thirteen. She’s not supposed to be here.”
“Numbers don’t matter,” said Sir Rolling- Trot. “If you deserve a unicorn, one will come.”
Grace held her peach straight in front of her. Her hands were shaking. “Come on,” she coaxed, staring at the empty meadow and the trees beyond. “Come on, my unicorn. I know you’re there.”
Sir Rolling-Trot looked down at the soggy mess in her hand.
“Tut, tut,” he muttered. “Is that the best you could do? The animal chooses the princess, remember. It has to want to belong to you, or it will never come.”
Grace heard Precious snicker. But she didn’t turn. She stared hard at the forest.
“Come on, my unicorn. Come on.”
The other princesses were leading their animals away now. Only Scarlet and Izumi were still waiting for her. But Beauty was getting restless, pawing at the ground. Even gentle Velvet was swishing her tail.
Sir Rolling-Trot cleared his throat. “Time to head back to school, I’m afraid,” he said. “There’ll be no more unicorns today.”
“Please,” begged Grace. “Just a little longer.” She would stay here all night if she had to.
But then a branch moved.
The leaves rustled.
Now the trees were shaking as if a wild boar was charging through them.
Crash!
A shaggy black-and-white unicorn burst out of the forest. He was covered in twigs and leaves.
“What is that thing?” laughed Precious as the princesses turned back to see what was making such a noise. “It looks like it’s come through a bush backward.”
But Grace felt her heart leap with joy.
The hairy unicorn thundered across the meadow, heading straight toward her.
“My unicorn,” she breathed.
“Good gracious. A rough coat. How unusual,” said Sir Rolling-Trot. “I haven’t seen one of those for thirty years.”
The unicorn’s long black-and-white mane flowed almost to the grass.
“What a freak,” Precious said. “He looks like a giant, hairy billy goat with only one horn.”
Grace felt butterflies somersault in her stomach as the shaggy unicorn skidded to a stop and slurped the squishy peach from her fingers.
“Hello, there.” She smiled.
The unicorn butted her with his muzzle, and she toppled over backward onto the grass.
“He even behaves like a billy goat,” snorted Precious.
“Then that’s what I’ll call him.” Grace smiled. “Billy. It’s the perfect name.”
She looked up into the unicorn’s dark, trusting eyes. And he peered down at her from under his flowing mane.
“I don’t care if he does look like a goat—or even a hairy yak,” said Grace. “Maybe he’s not as smooth as gold or as shiny as diamonds. But I love him. He chose me, and he’s mine.”
As if to agree, Billy took hold of the end of one of Grace’s braids in his teeth and tugged at it.
“Thank you,” she whispered, rubbing his soft shaggy ears. “Now I can stay at Tall Towers and learn to be a proper princess. Just you wait, Billy….We’re going to make the perfect team.”
The princesses settled the unicorns into their new stables, each with a bundle of fresh hay and slices of fresh peach.
Billy tipped over the first three buckets of water that Grace filled for him from
the well.
“You’re just as clumsy as I am,” she laughed, sloshing a fourth bucket over the floor by mistake.
“Tomorrow you will learn to groom your unicorns, and eventually you will ride them,” said Sir Rolling-Trot. “But for now you’d better go with Old Flintheart…I mean Fairy Godmother Flint. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you know.”
Grace giggled as he pointed to the gray figure of the fairy godmother standing at the edge of the yard like a watchful hawk. Flintheart was the perfect nickname for her.
“Come along, Young Majesties. It is time to find out where you are sleeping,” she said.
“How exciting!” cried Grace.
Now that she knew she could stay at Tall Towers, she leapt forward to be the first in line.
Splat!
She felt something squelch under her foot.
Fairy Godmother Flint raised a bony finger. “Please wipe that off before returning to school,” she sniffed, pointing at something nasty on the bottom of Grace’s shoe.
“Typical. It’s not very princessy to tread in unicorn poo,” sneered Precious.
“Not very princessy at all,” sighed the fairy godmother.
“I suppose I should look where I’m going in a stable yard.” Grace smiled, holding her nose. She hurried to the meadow and wiped her shoes in the long grass. Then she charged back across the courtyard to catch up with the rest of the group.
By the time she reached them, they were gathered in a long hallway just inside the main doors. The walls were covered with notice boards, declarations, and scrolls.
The girls were crowded around a list of names.
Grace squeezed through and read the scroll for herself.
She read the list twice to make sure. But her name was definitely not there.
I’ve been left out again, she thought.