Cinderella Complex

by Rebekah L. Purdy

  “Don’t talk to me like that!” Dad roared. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that! Do you understand?”

  Jack’s jaw tightened. “Loud and clear, Mr. Winters. Maggie and I aren’t welcome here.”

  Thorna interrupted. “Honey, you knew it’d take time for us to meld together. The last thing I want to do is tear this family apart.” She sniffled.

  Nice touch with the fake tears.

  Jack’s hands fisted into his sweatshirt. “If you didn’t want to break up the family, maybe you shouldn’t have slept with my dad while he was still married.”

  Dad jumped to his feet so fast his chair crashed to the floor as he stalked to where Jack stood. He grabbed Jack by his collar and raised his hand as if to hit him. He must’ve changed his mind, for he dropped his hand and shoved him out the door. “Go to your room. Now!”

  “Gladly.” Jack stormed out. Leaving me alone with the hellhounds.

  Dad took his seat again and smiled at the twins. “Sorry you girls had to see that.”

  My stomach knotted with nausea. “Why did you shove him?” I cried out. “He’s only telling the truth.” My vision blurred. Hatred burned through my veins like a match tossed into a container of gasoline. I leapt to my feet.

  Dad turned a dark shade of tomato. His eyes bulged as if someone were choking him. “Maggie, you’re on thin ice here.”

  I took a step back. “You don’t even care what happens to us anymore. Everything you do is for Thorna and her stupid daughters.”

  A sob lodged in my throat. I hated him for what he’d done to us. For what he’d put Mom through. But most of all, I hated how easily he’d replaced us.

  “Go to your room and don’t bother coming out. You’re grounded.”

  I whipped around and raced from the dining room. Behind me, I could hear him apologizing for our behavior.

  I took the stairs two at a time. When I got to my room, I slammed the door shut and collapsed on my bed. I wanted to go back to Mom’s. This wasn’t my home.

  My door creaked open. I didn’t look up. From the sound of the footsteps, I could tell it was Jack. He crept in and sat down on the edge of my bed.

  “Don’t cry.” He stroked my head. “He’s a jerk.”

  I sat up and wrapped my arms around my brother, hugging him. “He doesn’t love us anymore.”

  I waited for Jack to argue with me and tell me everything was fine. That Dad still cared. But instead, he said, “I know.”

  “It isn’t fair. He promised he’d always be there for us. He promised, Jack.” I hiccupped. “When he left, he said we’d always be important to him.”

  He tipped my chin up, making me look him in the eye. “Listen to me, it doesn’t matter what he said. He’s changed. We need to move on. Forget about the person he used to be. Because that guy’s dead.”

  I gave a solemn nod, even though the words pierced my heart.

  “We don’t need him. We’ve got Mom and each other.” He wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Someday he’ll regret this.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Well if we’re lucky, maybe Thorna will give him gonorrhea or something.”

  We gazed at each other and burst out laughing. “And maybe his gym bags will fall off.”

  Jack took my hand and tugged me to my feet. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  “We don’t have a car. Besides, Dad said we can’t leave our rooms.”

  “Technically, we wouldn’t be leaving the house.” He opened the closet door.

  We stepped inside. Jack shut the door and suddenly we stood in the Godmother cottage. Candles ignited around us. The wood in the fire popped, spraying sparks up the chimney. I inhaled deeply, the scent of apples heavy in the air.

  A slight breeze wafted through the open window. I noticed a pie sitting on the sill to cool. I got a funny feeling the house had expected us. I went to sit down on the couch beside Jack. A loud clanking sound came from behind us, and I watched as a tray containing a tea kettle and cups rolled into the room. Within a couple of seconds, hot tea poured itself in front of us. The fragile cup slid into my hand and I took a sip.

  I curled my legs beneath me. “This is much better.” A blanket draped itself over my lap, and I warmed instantly.

  “Yeah, imagine if we didn’t have somewhere to hide from Dad.” Jack’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know how much more of his attitude I can take.”

  “Maybe we should talk to Mom when we get home.”

  He snorted. “And she’ll tell us we have to go because he’s our dad.”

  Of course, he was right. Mom encouraged our relationship, or lack thereof, with our father. But I don’t think she understood how he treated us. How we barely registered on his radar anymore. It was like we’d stepped into a bizarre episode of the Twilight Zone.

  An owl hooted in the distance. Crickets chirped their lovely, light-hearted songs. I closed my eyes, my head tilted back against the couch. Why couldn’t it always be like this? Peaceful. No Grimms or confusing boys or fights with best friends and dads.

  But even I knew I couldn’t hide from reality. With a sigh, I finished my tea and put the cup back onto the tray. A hallway at the back of the kitchen caught my eye. I didn’t remember seeing it there before. I climbed off the couch and walked across the room.

  “Where are you going?” Jack asked.

  “To look around.” A candle hovered in front of me, lighting my way. The soft glow illuminated the paintings along the wall. Some were of fairytale princesses, others were of my grandmother in her Godmother getup. As I ambled farther down the hall, candelabras lit, casting dim shadows across the wall.

  I saw a door to my left, gripped the handle, and pushed it open. A small bed sat in the corner, covered with lavender-colored blankets and white satin pillows. An antique armoire with brass handles took up most of the back wall. A nice place to sleep if it ever came to that. I closed the door and walked on to the next one. The sign on the door read, The Room of Necessities. My skin tingled as I reached for the knob. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed inside. Candles and lanterns flickered, brightening the biggest room I’d ever seen. No way was it a part of the cottage. It didn’t seem possible.

  Floor-to-ceiling bookcases overflowed with leather-bound books, ancient scrolls, and maps. A massive stone fireplace dominated the center of the room. Two silver wands hung above its mantel. Reams of material attached to rolls lined the wall. Extra wands were mounted in glass cabinets.

  As I walked across the hardwood floor, my fingers glided over ornate crowns, tiaras, and gowns. A pumpkin-shaped carriage sat parked inside a display case, along with a glass slipper perched on a pedestal. Swords hung above the mounted head of a dragon, its lifeless eyes forever staring out, not seeing. The scales glistened against the dancing flames. Every story I heard as a child came rushing back at me.

  Everywhere I looked, I saw something new. There were silver-filigree dishes, shoes made of crystal and glass. Gold and marble statues better suited for an art gallery stood at every corner. Expensive lace, medieval weapons, shields, tools, and flowers. When I turned, I found more treasures. Rubies, diamonds, golden trinkets, sapphire rings, jewels of every shape and size scattered about the room.

  A complete collection of anything a Godmother would ever need. Like a fairytale museum.

  A golden curtain shimmered from across the room. I walked toward it only to find another room. I pushed the silken drape aside and gasped. Another bedroom, this one suited for a queen. Or a Fairy Godmother. A four-poster-bed with crimson velvet drapes was positioned against the back wall, its frame reaching to the ceiling. Mahogany chests sat on either side of it and at its foot. Another fireplace with white-marble fairy wings etched into the mantle occupied the far wall. It smelled of magic. The air caressed my skin, soothing away my pain.

  A knock echoed through the house, bringing me back to the present. I hurried from the room. When I reached the kitchen, the hall disappeared behind me as if to concea
l itself. Jack was talking to Marcus.

  Marcus bowed down low when he saw me. “Good evening, Godmother. Sorry to intrude like this, but we need your knight to go on patrol with us.”

  A cloaked figure stood beside him, his face hooded. I could not see his eyes, but he bowed before me, revealing mocha-colored hands.

  Jack hugged me. “I’ll be back soon. Either stay in the cottage or go back to your room.”

  “Wait, how long will you be?”

  “I’m not sure. But I mean it. Don’t go anywhere.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll stay put.”

  The cloaked knight coughed, and for one bizarre moment, I thought he laughed. But a stern look from Marcus brought him back to attention.

  Once they left, I walked to the living room. What would I do to pass the time? Maybe some more room exploring? No way did I want to go back to Dad’s house.

  Someone pounded on the front door. My heart dropped to my toes. Clutching the back of the couch, I took a deep breath. Perhaps I should ignore it. But it sounded urgent.

  I counted to five, then swung the door open to reveal a woman in a shoddy brown dress.

  “Godmother, I hate to come at this hour. But a child from the village has been burned. We need your assistance in healing her.” Her blue eyes swam with tears.

  Crap. Jack told me to stay here, but he couldn’t have known someone would need help. I had to do it. A jar of salve appeared in my hand. My choice was made.

  “Take me to the child.” I stepped over the threshold and into the other world. My jeans and sweater disappeared, replaced by a blue gown and velvet cloak.

  The woman led me down a rut-filled road. Gnarled trees drooped above us on either side, the greenery lost in bleakness. Deeper into the woods we traveled, the thicket thinning out. The scent of honeysuckle reminded me of Grandma. How many times had she ventured down this road?

  Several thatched-roof cottages appeared. Smoke curled from their chimneys like pig tails. The soft neigh of a horse made me glance up and I spotted a cart filled with hay outside a stable. At last we came to a small gathering of people, the women dressed in medieval gowns, the men in breeches and tunics. At the center of the circle lay a young girl. My stomach coiled at the stench of burnt flesh. My legs wobbled beneath me as I pushed through the crowd. The child screamed, writhing in pain. The flesh was blackened and red.

  “How did this happen?”

  A man knelt down beside me, his face streaked with tears. “The Dark King set fire to the woods because we hunted on his land. He burned many of our homes, with our families still inside.” His voice thickened with animosity.

  I wiped my hands on my gown. “We must bring this child inside. I need to peel her clothing from the wounds.”

  The girl cried out in anguish as the villagers stepped forward and laid hands on her. My heart shuddered with every step, knowing how badly it jostled the little one.

  They carried her into the house. Once inside the cramped space, they laid her onto a table. I had no idea what to do. I wasn’t a nurse. In fact, I barely knew how to put on a Band-Aid. Everyone stood watching me.

  I cleared my throat. “We need to get the clothes off, then cleanse the wounds as best we can without causing further damage.”

  Two older woman set to work while I brushed tears from my eyes. Why would someone do this to a toddler? It made no sense. I put a kettle of water on to boil, then summoned my wand. I closed my eyes. Please let this work. I conjured what I hoped was a sleeping potion.

  “Have the child drink this.”

  The blue-eyed woman nodded. I shoved my sleeves to my elbows and bent over the tiny figure. My fingers trembled as I unscrewed the lid on the salve. I slipped my fingers into the warm gel, then, as carefully as possible, I spread it across the raw flesh.

  The child whimpered.

  “It’s all right, Tamar,” a woman whispered beside me. “The Godmother’s taking care of you.”

  The salve glowed green as it seeped into the skin. The wounds closed, leaving only scars. Tamar’s head lulled to the side. Panic raced through me as I leaned down. Her chest rose and fell in rhythm. Thank God. She’d fallen asleep. I kissed her on top of her head, and watched a crown of flowers appear.

  “Will she be all right?” the teary-eyed man asked.

  I closed my eyes. A sense of peace came over me. A smile formed on my lips and I opened my eyes. “Yes. She will heal.” I’m not sure how I knew, but the gentle stirring in my gut set me at ease.

  I closed the jar of salve and gathered my cloak.

  “Thank you, Godmother, I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you for saving our daughter,” the blue-eyed woman said.

  “There’s no need for repayment. Just stay safe.”

  I left the house and headed down the road. Dusk overtook the night sky. The crickets and birds fell silent. I gazed at the ominous castle in the distance. The spires reminded me of devil horns, the way they pierced the clouds. A shiver ran through my body. Time to shut the mind off. Darkness seemed to seep from the very crevices of the fortress. My lungs burned as if I’d inhaled smoke.

  I picked up the pace, leaves crunched beneath my feet. Tar-like silhouettes oozed from the tree line and screams erupted in the night. I watched in horror as a few people were snatched from the road and thrust into a cart lined with bars.

  Click-clack-click-clack.

  Hooves stomped the ground behind me. I turned in time to see a lone rider. His armor glistened as the moonlight struck it. A black cloak billowed behind him like a gruesome phantom. His hood fell back and dark hair blocked his face, but even through the inky blackness moving in, I saw the glow of his eyes. The raven-like wings protruded from his back. I stood rooted in place. Without a doubt, I knew he was the Grimm who’d saved me.

  A growl erupted from the sky as two hulking figures swooped toward me. With a scream, I hefted my skirts and dodged into the woods. Twigs and thorns tore at my skin, brandishing me. Something crashed amongst the canopies of leaves above my head, knocking down debris.

  I plunged farther into the forest. Leaves skittered at my feet, while holes and roots created unseen obstacles.

  Just get back to the cottage.

  Strong arms ensnared me, jerking me behind a tree. A hand covered my mouth before I could scream.

  “Shh. Stay quiet, Godmother.” An unfamiliar voice whispered in my ear.

  He pressed me against the tree trunk for several long moments. A short whistle sounded. My rescuer loosened his grip.

  “Come, let’s get you back to the cottage.” In one swift motion, I was lifted and carried through the brambles. When we emerged from the woods, I spotted Jack and Marcus rushing toward me.

  The cloaked knight from earlier set me on my feet, then bowed.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Jack reached me first. He shook me. “What part of ‘stay in the cottage’ don’t you understand? Dang it! You could’ve been killed.”

  Marcus stiffened. His gaze focused on the castle in the distance. “Get her inside before he sees her.”

  I didn’t know who the he was, but I didn’t want to find out. Without any argument, I let Jack lead me into the cottage.

  I walked into the kitchen and sank to the floor. What was going on?

  Marcus caught Jack’s arm. “You mustn’t talk to the Godmother so harshly. We are here to protect her.”

  Jack jerked his arm back. “She’s still my sister.”

  From the closet side of the Godmother room, I heard Dad pounding on my bedroom door.

  “Let me in right now, Maggie.”

  “That’s our cue to leave.” I pushed to my feet. With one last glance over my shoulder, I rushed through the closet with Jack on my heels.

  My jeans and sweater appeared back in place as I jerked open the door and burst through. Dad stood there, arms crossed. “You two need to apologize to Thorna. You’ve ruined the whole evening.”

  Jack opened his mouth to say something, but I grip
ped his hand.

  “Fine,” I said.

  Dad ushered us into the theater room where Thorna sat wiping her eyes with a tissue. Seriously? The woman deserved a flipping Oscar for her role as a home wrecker.

  With every bit of energy I had left, I forced myself to say the words. “Thorna, I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry,” Jack muttered beside me.

  Thorna’s thin lips twitched, her eyes glimmered like she’d just won a prize.“Apology accepted. I only want us to be friends. Close friends.”

  Her words slithered down my spine. She met my gaze, and all I saw were endless pools of darkness. Thorna was out to destroy our family. And she wouldn’t stop until Jack and I were out of the picture.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Rain drummed against the library window. I sat next to Kat. While she applied more lip gloss, I ducked down behind my book. Her gaze took in the expanse of the room. “I’m not sure I can go through with telling Connor where I live.”

  “Eventually he’s going to find out the truth,” I pointed out. “And he’ll be way more ticked that you lied.”

  Kat scowled. “I’m not lying.”

  “No. You’re just not telling the truth.”

  “Shh…” someone at a nearby table hissed.

  Kat rolled her eyes and scooted closer to me. It surprised me. Because the old Kat would’ve shoved a book down the kid’s throat, or any other hole for that matter.

  “You need to be yourself. Trust me.”

  “Well, it might not even matter.” Kat flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder, then examined her nails. “He didn’t even ask me to Homecoming. And I’m beginning to think it might not happen.”

  “I’ll think of something.” I gathered my books. “I’ll catch up with you next period.” How the heck was I supposed to get him to ask her to the dance? It’s not like I could wave a magic wand and make him take her. The whole Godmother Law about freewill.

  My boot-heels clicked on the floor tiles as I walked through the hall. I stopped at the drinking fountain. The lukewarm water tasted gross. I spat it out. When I stood back up, I noticed the poster advertising the Homecoming dance. I ripped the colored paper from the wall.