The Fairytale Curse (Magic's Return Book 1)

by Marina Finlayson

  “See?” Sona’s expression was all I told you so. “You guys are big news.”

  I leaned against my locker and stared across the crowd at CJ. I couldn’t hear what she said, but the little newspaper guy looked disappointed as he left. A group of Year 7s hurried past. When they saw me they all started giggling and whispering to each other behind their hands. I looked away, then realised others were doing it too. One guy was actually pointing at me, and another had his phone out. Simon headed purposefully toward that one.

  Looking around, I realised everyone that walked past was looking at me. Everyone, even the teachers who passed, were staring as if I was the prize exhibit at the zoo. Or maybe the best freak in sideshow alley. It was like I wasn’t even a person to them, just something weird to look at.

  I started to breathe faster. “Everyone’s staring at me.”

  “Of course they are,” said Sona. “Don’t let it get to you. Hey, is that Josh Johnson?”

  I followed her gaze and my heart sank. Yep, that was Josh Johnson all right, standing so close to my sister he was practically inhaling her. The crowd was starting to thin out now, but I still couldn’t hear what he said to her. She laughed and looked up at him, and the expression in those blue eyes made me groan.

  I’d seen that look before, several times, in fact. It never ended well. CJ expected a lot from a boyfriend, but the ones she picked never seemed able to deliver. Shame she had such crappy taste in guys. Josh was another one in the same disappointing pattern. Maybe she ought to consider using some other criteria apart from looks. The good-looking guys she went for always seemed to love themselves more than they loved her.

  They were standing so close together, utterly absorbed in each other. Josh’s perfect blonde head bent close to her dark one.

  “Oh, my God, he’s going to kiss her,” Sona breathed, frogs forgotten.

  Of course he was going to kiss her. He was the best-looking guy in the school. This kiss had been inevitable from the moment CJ enrolled. His lips touched hers and I sighed. Here we go again.

  A cheer went up from Josh’s mates and they broke apart. CJ’s lovely face was more beautiful than ever, aglow with happiness. Josh looked insufferably pleased with himself.

  “Wow,” said Sona. “They look so good together. They’re going to be, like, the hottest couple at the formal.”

  That cheered me a little. Josh was leaving, so I wouldn’t have to watch the inevitable rise and fall of the relationship played out every day at school. If I were really lucky, he’d lose interest once he left and the big wide world beckoned. Having a schoolgirl for a girlfriend wasn’t so cool when you were a man of the world.

  “What are you wearing?” Sona asked.

  It took me a minute to realise she was still talking about the Year 12 formal on Friday night. At least it beat discussing frogs and magic.

  “Oh, we’re not going,” I said.

  “Not going?” she shrieked.

  Josh glanced over, but as soon as he realised the noise was coming from his new love’s ugly sister and her geeky friend he looked away, supremely uninterested.

  “What do you mean, you’re not going?”

  “Mum grounded us. Well, she grounded CJ actually, but I don’t want to go without her.”

  “What is your problem? You can’t miss the formal.”

  “Why not? I’ve never heard of Year 11 going to the Year 12 formal anyway.” And I’d been to a lot of schools.

  “It’s a small school,” she said. “They need to make up numbers to get a good venue. And it’ll be awesome. There’s all this crying and hugging and kissing and then everyone goes to the after party and promises to be best friends forever and there’s so much goss. You have to come!”

  “Sounds boring.”

  “How can it be boring? I’m going to be there—and I’m counting on you.”

  “I haven’t even got a dress.”

  It was nearly time for the next bell. I should really have been in class by now. The crowds round the lockers had thinned out—only the lovebirds and a few stragglers remained. Simon and Kyle stood to one side, looking bored, but then Josh pulled out his phone and snapped a selfie of him and CJ, smiling faces smooshed together. Simon sprang to life and marched over.

  “You don’t have time to go shopping now,” Sona said. “You must have something you could wear? Why don’t I come over and we’ll go through your wardrobe? I’ve got a couple of things I could lend you.”

  “Look, I’ve got to run,” I said as the bell boomed over the speakers. “I’m late for Chemistry.”

  Simon was ordering Josh to delete the photo he’d just taken. I lingered, not sure if I should wait for him or not.

  “I’ll call you,” Sona said. “We can get together tonight.”

  “Whatever.” I waved as she walked off, but my mind was on other things. Josh was facing off against Simon, a mulish look on his face.

  “I’m just taking a photo of my girlfriend, mate,” said Josh, a challenge in his tone. Prince Josh was used to getting his own way. “There’s no law against that.”

  “There’s been enough publicity already,” Simon said. “Crystal’s parents want me to ensure there’s no more. Please delete that photo.”

  “It’s just a photo. I’m not going to publish it. And who are you, anyway?”

  “A friend.” Simon looked anything but friendly, but what could he do? The caveman was right, there was no law against taking photos. Simon really didn’t have a leg to stand on. He obviously knew that, and the knowledge did nothing to improve his temper. Poor Simon wasn’t having a very good day.

  “Well, I’m her friend too, and she doesn’t mind, do you, Ceej? So I don’t see what business it is of yours.”

  And with that he swaggered off, CJ’s hand clasped in his paw. After a moment Kyle gave a helpless little shrug and followed them. Simon turned to me, frustration written large on his face.

  “What time does school finish?”

  “Another hour,” I said.

  “Thank God.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  He was waiting when I came out of my last class—my own personal thundercloud. Not that I cared. I had no plans to become his best buddy. Was he always like this, or did he just not like babysitting duty? Or maybe he didn’t like me.

  We headed for the car, meeting up with CJ and Kyle on the way. Kids poured past to the waiting buses, shouting and talking and laughing, like every other day—but there were no photographers lying in wait at the gates for us. Even when we got into the car and pulled out from the kerb, no one else pulled out in pursuit. Kyle and Simon looked at each other, but said nothing.

  “No press,” I said at last. “That’s good. They must have bought our story this morning.”

  CJ hadn’t even noticed, too busy texting the caveman. It had only been an hour since she saw him. What did they find to talk about?

  “No,” said Kyle. “There’s been … a development.”

  The odd phrase caught CJ’s attention. “What do you mean?”

  “Google Sydney Airport,” he said.

  She did, and I leaned over to read the results with her.

  Sydney Airport magic attack, Sydney Morning Herald, 2 hours ago

  Ogre at Sydney International Airport, abc.net.au, 1 hour ago

  Latest on the ogre at Sydney Airport, updated 1 hour ago

  … and on and on down the page.

  “Bloody hell,” said CJ, clicking on the first link that promised video footage. Like our moment of YouTube fame, it looked like it had been taken by someone with a phone camera, probably someone waiting to greet a visitor at the airport. The scene showed a gate lounge at Sydney airport. A few people stood around, watching the trickle of passengers coming through the gate. Others sat in the rows of uncomfortable chairs reading or eating junk food. A mother with a little bald baby stepped forward eagerly as a man with a briefcase came through the gate, but most people headed off on their own, with no one to meet them. There wer
e a lot of guys in suits, so they were probably mainly business travellers.

  As the little family of three hugged on the edge of the frame, a roar cut through the background noise of announcements and people talking. You could see people stopping in their tracks. Heads swivelled toward the gate, and the roar came again. The staff member who was farewelling the departing passengers at the gate stepped forward and peered down the corridor that led to the plane.

  The little bald baby began to cry, and the family hurried away. Some joined them, but most moved toward the noise, rather than away, overcome with curiosity. It wasn’t the roar of a jet engine, which wouldn’t have turned a hair at the airport. It sounded more like an animal. People looked at each other uncertainly.

  The roar sounded again, closer this time, and a small Asian man darted out of the gate, his face contorted in fear. He dropped his jacket as he bolted through the gate lounge, but he didn’t stop to pick it up. Others began to leave too; his fear was catching. The gate staff backed away, uncertain what to do.

  Then an enormous figure burst from the gate. It had been bent nearly double to get through the tunnel from the plane. Now it rose to its full horrifying height. The picture wobbled as whoever held the camera backed away. Screams filled the air, then suddenly the view tilted dizzily and all we could see was the floor swinging backwards and forwards as the person filming bolted for safety. We could still hear the roars though, and the terrified screaming.

  “What was that?” I asked as the clip finished.

  The creature had been man-shaped, but twice the height of any man, and its face was so hideous it could have got a job as an orc extra on The Lord of the Rings. Its arms were massive, and hung low like a gorilla’s.

  “An ogre,” said Kyle.

  Thanks, Captain Obvious. I’d actually got that part from all the screaming headlines on Google.

  “I mean, where did it come from? How does a thing like that get on a plane?”

  Kyle sighed. “As far as we can tell from the passenger lists, that thing used to be Warder Nabukov.”

  Whoa. The poor guy.

  “So it’s another fairytale attack?” CJ asked.

  “But how?” It didn’t make sense. “Puck hasn’t escaped, has he?”

  “No. He’s still locked in the vault.”

  Then how had the Sidhe managed to strike again? Why hadn’t anybody seen magical activity on the monitors?

  “We have seekers all over the airport,” said Simon. “Maybe they’ll find something.”

  He looked even grumpier than ever—he was probably longing to be there with the others instead of babysitting two teenage girls.

  “What fairy tale is he from?” CJ asked.

  Kyle shrugged. “Take your pick—there’s plenty of ogres in fairy tales. I just hope to God it isn’t Puss in Boots, or we could find one of the other passengers has turned into a cat.”

  “Where is he now?” I asked, afraid that some enthusiastic policeman may have put a bullet through him.

  “They had to call in a vet from Taronga Zoo to tranquillise him. As far as I know he’s still at the airport. Last I heard they were holding him in one of the hangars. I think your Dad’s gone down there with Warder Kincumber to see what they can do.”

  Wow. It sure put things in perspective. I fingered my ugly dog collar. Frogs and diamonds were pretty tame in comparison to being turned into an ogre.

  “Does it seem to you that the curses are getting stronger?”

  Simon met my eyes in the rear vision mirror, a thoughtful expression replacing his usual frown. “How so?”

  “First was Snow White—they just put her to sleep.”

  “It’s a bit more than that,” CJ pointed out. “She can’t wake up.”

  “True, but sleep is natural. It’s just the not-waking-up part that’s odd. Then there was us, with our frogs and diamonds—unnatural, but we’re not changed. We’re still ourselves. And now there’s this. Poor Warder Nabukov is completely transformed into something that’s not even human.”

  Silence fell in the car. What would the next progression be? Simon got onto the expressway before I realised we weren’t heading home.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Warder Winters is concerned about security. She’s called everyone into HQ.”

  Poor Mum. This wasn’t a great time to be a warder. Ever since our YouTube video had gone viral, the current affairs shows had been full of talking heads discussing magic and whether it was real or not. After today’s little episode it was going to be pretty challenging to argue that it wasn’t. Puck must be sitting back laughing as all the little humans scurried around like a kicked ants’ nest. No matter how they tried, the ants were never going to be able to put their world back the way it had been.

  We pulled into the underground garage at HQ. How long until the press discovered this place?

  As we got out of the car, an ambulance came down the ramp and stopped by the lift. The driver hopped out and opened the back doors wide. His partner jumped down and together they pulled out the trolley inside, pulling its wheeled legs down with a metallic crunch.

  The person on the trolley was jostled by the movement, and her head rolled toward us.

  “That’s her,” CJ said. “The Snow White girl.”

  We stood back while the ambulance guys wheeled her into the lift. She was very pale; even her lips were bloodless, only the faintest pink colour showing now the bright red lipstick was gone. Up close, she looked somewhere in her mid-twenties.

  “Don’t call her that,” Simon said. “Her name’s Kerrie.”

  “She a friend of yours?” The anger in his tone set all CJ’s antennae quivering. We could both sense there was a story here.

  “We worked together a couple of years ago in Perth,” he said.

  “And?”

  He gave her a cold look. “And nothing. She’s a real person with a real name, that’s all. I don’t like it when people treat her like an object or a puzzle to be solved.”

  The lift came back and the doors opened with a cheerful ding. Simon strode in and punched the button for Level 1 with a little more force than he really needed. I carefully didn’t meet CJ’s eyes, knowing what I’d see there. CJ smelled a secret romance. Given Simon’s general grumpiness, I was more inclined to suspect unrequited love—I had a hard time imagining anyone actually fancying him. Though there was Gretel, I guess, as proof that at least one woman found Mr Happy appealing.

  “Have they thought of finding a prince to kiss her?” CJ asked. “Even if you don’t like people calling her Snow White, you have to admit that’s the fairy tale the Sidhe are working with, and in the story it was the prince’s kiss that brought her back to life.”

  “Princes aren’t exactly thick on the ground in Sydney,” Kyle said. “And most of the European ones are married, even if we could persuade one to visit.”

  “A boyfriend, then?” CJ cast a sidelong glance at Simon, who resolutely stared straight ahead at the closed doors. “Maybe it’s more a ‘one true love’ thing, not a prince thing.”

  “We thought of that too,” Kyle said, seeing that Simon had no intention of joining the conversation, “but she’s not in a relationship at the moment, and ex-boyfriends don’t really meet the criteria.”

  I wondered if Simon was one of those exes, but he was clearly not interested in pursuing the topic. Gretel would know.

  The lift doors slid open on the quiet carpeted corridors of Level 1. Simon strode off without waiting to see if we were following.

  “You can wait in your Mum’s office,” Kyle said, leading us after Simon. “She shouldn’t be too long.”

  I could have found my way there on my own by now, but I allowed Kyle to deliver us like so much unwanted baggage on the doorstep. He and Simon were gone before the door had even shut behind us, obviously relieved to be rid of us for a while. Probably gone to get the low-down on what was happening with the ogre.

  CJ flopped onto the couch in the corner, but I
prowled around, picking up things and putting them down again, unsettled by the new developments. My collar was feeling uncomfortable after wearing it all day—all those protrusions had a way of poking into you—but I was afraid to take it off in case it somehow stopped working if I did.

  Or maybe something worse would happen. I picked up a heavy glass paperweight shaped like a dolphin. Who knew what could happen? What if another curse struck us? We could be ogres, or cats, or even frogs. There was the tale of the frog prince, after all. Bad enough to be spitting frogs, but to be one—!

  I set the dolphin back down on the desk with a heavy thunk. What if we became dolphins, or something else that couldn’t even live on land? I had a vague memory of a fairy tale about a magical wish-granting fish.

  These thoughts were making me crazy. Distracted, I ran my finger uneasily under my collar, trying to make it more comfortable. There was a door to my right I hadn’t noticed before. Maybe a bathroom? Mum was a kind of executive after all—why shouldn’t she have an executive bathroom?

  Sadly, it was nothing that glam—only a very small walk-in cupboard with shelving floor-to-ceiling. It looked like the wall behind reception at the doctor’s we used to go to in Townsville, with all the patients’ files ordered alphabetically. Were they employee files? That didn’t seem right. I was pretty sure someone had said Magic HQ had about 200 employees. There were a lot more than that here.

  I pulled one out at random, vaguely aware that I probably shouldn’t be looking. Curiosity killed the cat got mentioned a lot in our house. CJ and I were both stickybeaks.

  It seemed to be a personnel file, for a guy called Emmet Branson. It had test results, work assignments, assessments from various supervisors: “Emmet is an original thinker but does not take direction well.” Emmet also made more than $150,000 a year. Nice work.

  I pulled out another, wondering if I’d stumble across someone I knew. I didn’t actually know anyone’s surname except Warder Kincumber, and his wasn’t there—I checked. I checked Reilly too, though I figured if Warder Kincumber wasn’t there, Dad wouldn’t be either.