Cinders: Necessary Evil (Magic Mirrors Saga Book 1)

by Sky Sommers

  I almost whistle, detaching the padlock and the latch from her door.

  The latch we had to thoroughly rust in the mud near our well to give the impression that I had been keeping Ella prisoner in our home. For years by the looks of that rusted lock.

  In the kitchen, I make myself a cup of coffee and sit down with the cinnamon buns I made earlier that morning.

  Ah, bliss!

  All the scheming is done, I don’t have to cook for half a village for a while. Nobody would dare come into the restaurant of a wicked stepmother. Of course, this means that I will have to sustain us from Belle’s inventions until things blow over or we refurbish or sell the restaurant or something, but oh well… I can finally enjoy an Ella-free existence with just my hubby, the twins and Henry.

  Too bad about the silver shoes.

  Yes, silver, but they shone so blindingly bright that they could have been made out of Swarovski crystals.

  Loretta swore that the shoes would only fit the feet of the person wearing the both of them. She had to ‘borrow’ them from Oz the Great and Powerful. When I pointed out stealing was not nice, Loretta said that neither was lying about the future royal bride’s virginity and assured me the previous owner of the shoes wouldn’t miss them.

  Just as well, because when Ella clicked those heels in the first hide-out she could find, she was transported back home in the nick of time. Luckily, she managed to wedge one of them loose in the process, just like Dorothy had when returning home to Kansas from the Emerald City.

  Just like we practiced.

  The shoe fell further afield, right outside the palace gates, very convenient for the finding.

  Now that Ella is ‘rescued’ the shoes are likely to be displayed somewhere rather publicly, I imagine. For a while, at least.

  ‘That went well, don’t you think?’ Loretta asks, materialising in my kitchen.

  Henry runs to her, stops and whispers, awestruck, ‘Butta-fly.’

  Loretta smiles and pats him on his head, ‘Pixie.’ When the kid doesn’t say anything, she rolls her eyes and says, ‘Very well. Fairy.’

  ‘Fe-li?’

  ‘Close enough.’ She surveys her surroundings. ’So, this is where you live nowadays. You know, I think Caroline’s cottage used to be right here, where your mansion now stands. The place has a familiar feel and I think the kitchen is almost the same as it was 25 years ago.’

  ‘Caroline?’

  ‘The fairy who used to administer Beast’s curse before Belle ‘rescued’ him.’

  ‘You used to know the Enchantress who cursed Beast?’ I gape.

  ‘She didn’t curse him. Well she did, but she didn’t come up with the spell herself. Morgana gave it to her and told her what to do. Caroline was one of my best friends and one of Morgana’s experiments along with moi. To see which girl deserved her son’s hand in marriage. Caroline gifted me her Elementary Spells book.’

  ‘Was? Is she dead?’ I ask and Loretta nods.

  ‘I guess Beast had this place remade into something grander and I think it is totally fitting that you should live where Caroline used to.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Caroline meddled with Beast’s fairytale and you meddled in his son’s life. Makes sense that it all comes from this particular location, imbued with so much magic.’

  ‘Oh, don’t you start with your magic theory again. We were just lucky,’ I say.

  Loretta narrows her eyes at me, ‘Yes…about that…While luck is not the same as magic… kind of, but not the same…you have had an inordinate amount of luck while you’ve been here, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Explain.’

  Loretta hunhs, ‘Switch your brain on, girlie. Firstly, persuading Mellie to let go of the kids.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it luck,’ I mumble.

  ‘Second, being given the back-story of being the king’s childhood friend. Which nobody questioned.’

  I make a face.

  ‘Third, without using any magical means whatsoever, you got Grizelda to trust you enough to tell you about what Mellie did, so you could repair Grizelda’s relationship with her grandkids. In fact, you gave Hans and Greta’s fairy-tale a whole new ending.’

  ‘Well, maybe…’

  ‘Fourth,’ Loretta was counting on her fingers, ‘You had us conjure up Ella’s make-over by non-magical means, by using hair dye, make-up, protocol and etiquette, not to mention manners and eloquence lessons. I mean her physical change. I don’t count the shoes and the dress. These were on loan.’

  ‘And I don’t know how it worked, but it worked for her. I still don’t believe magic would work on me. Not without consequences,’ I say.

  Loretta glares at me. ‘You’re right about the consequences. But right now, I’m explaining why luck is kind of like magic, so pay attention. Last, but not least, let’s not forget Ella had the good luck to get pregnant on the first go.’

  On the second go, too.

  I nod, ‘I have to admit, Ella complaining at school that she did all the chores around the house turned out to be lucky. And I bet a few girls at that school of her will remember how they wanted to call her Cinders. It’s all part of the backstory of her humble beginnings now. And exploitations by the cruel stepmother generated considerable empathy with the prince when he came to pick her up… You call it luck, I call it coincidence.’

  Loretta looks at me like I’m dim-witted, ‘You are daft. Coincidences ARE part of luck, don’t you know that?’

  ‘Well, I could ask Dita, the Goddess of Luck, but if you put it like that, then it does seem that we’ve had an enormous amount of luck here,’ I raise my hands and go for the coffee-pot.

  ‘You know a Goddess of Luck and you don’t believe in magic… Riiiight…. You made Ella’s fairy tale come true. Hans and Greta are now living a totally different fairy-tale… The stories... They are adapting to you as much as you are adapting them.’

  ‘Stories?’

  ‘Yes, stories, plural. Besides your own foster kids, you have already started poking your nose into Belle and Beast’s story and I don’t think you’re done. Not by a long shot. I think you are the common denominator for all this insane amount of luck. You are the one generating it.’

  ‘How? I don’t have an ounce of magic in me as you very well know. Which is why magical creatures - like the last of the dragons have left the realm after I got here. According to you.’ I say and put a steaming mug in front of her.

  ‘Yes, and other realms benefited from it. And this one did, too,’ the pixie says, sniffing at the java.

  ‘But if I remain here for longer, all magic will leave?’ I ask. ‘No benefits here. Without the occasional artefact - like Ella’s shoes - no story would get its happy ending.’

  ‘Yes, but you have me. Ergo, you will always have means to access to artefacts. And to magic. You don’t need to be magic. You may not consider helping stories come true as magic, but trust me, you don’t need to have a wand and a spell or a potion to make things happen.’ Loretta says. ‘Nobody I know has had as many lucky breaks as you have. Escaped…was it four… assassination attempts sixteen years ago?’

  ‘Five. Gabriel rescued me, I didn’t do anything.’ I say.

  ‘Met the love of your life and had a kid.’

  ‘After thirteen years of trying.’ I remind the pixie.

  ‘But you did have him. And you struck a deal with the Agency of Guardian Angels and were relocated to the Magic Kingdom where time is not an issue.’

  ‘It had to be done.’ I shrug.

  ‘Started not one, but two businesses while here - the eversopopular restaurant and the inventions for Belle to sell.’ She says.

  ‘I had to do something to put food on the table.’

  ‘Managed to play the part of stepmother to get Ella married off spectacularly well, despite her oopsie.’ Loretta winks.<
br />
  ‘Because of it, actually.’ I say.

  ‘That was pure dumb luck, may the Goddess forgive me.’ Loretta says.

  ‘You call it luck, I call using an unfortunate fact to our advantage resourcefulness.’

  ‘I’ll tell Dita you said that.’

  ‘She might agree with me that what she as the Goddess of Luck does for others is letting them see and seize opportunities.’

  The pixie looks pensive.

  I sip my coffee. ‘Why are we even arguing? I’d like to enjoy not having to worry about anyone else’s happily ever after but my own. I’m entitled to a vacation.’

  Loretta gives me The Look. ‘A short vacation. Your three years are almost up. And while you may know the Goddess of Luck personally, I have a feeling your ‘resourcefulness’ is about to run out.’ She turns to go, ‘I suggest that you start believing in magic, darling. It might help.’

  ‘I forgive you.’

  Ella

  Wednesday, June 24th

  He loves me! He IS looking for me!

  As far as everybody in the kingdom knows, Prince Nicholas was beside himself when the princess he had devoted his entire evening to had left in such a hurry that she ‘lost’ a silver slipper on the palace’s winding staircase.

  Any normal girl would duck back, pick up the shoe and keep running even if she WAS in a hurry, but the story goes that Prince Nicholas was chasing after the mysterious lady himself when she just…disappeared.

  When I dropped the shoe, the other one barely carried me to the edge of the woods where I had left the landau. It’s a good thing I had tested the range of travel with just one shoe. I shook myself out of the white dress and hid it in the landau for Loretta to take back to wherever she had borrowed it from. I donned my oldest dress, all tattered and patched, tied my locks in a bun, untied our horse and rode back full speed.

  At home, I helped Grace to rust the bolt to put on my door and have been staying in my room for three days, reading and eating whatever Grace brings me.

  I wasn’t sure Nick was looking for me until this morning, when Greta told us about the official proclamation in the town square. If the prince finds the owner of the silver slipper, he will instantly wed this runaway, be she of noble birth or not. That was Belle’s addition to the plan. I had to ‘lose’ a shoe. Nick had to have an excuse to go door to door, asking to see all the single ladies and a gorgeous, silver shoe with a seemingly fair chance to marry the prince was it. Belle must have also suggested the route the search party needed to take, because while we live quite close to the palace, they started the search the furthest away from the palace. Knowing Belle, ours is the last house they will come knocking at, when Nicholas and the entire kingdom will have nearly lost all hope.

  So far, over the past three days, the shoe has not fit anyone.

  Not a single unmarried lady out of the dozens of the right age and shape who have tried squeezing their foot into it.

  Not a single one.

  I guess Loretta was as good as her promise. Once calibrated, the shoes will fit only me.

  Belle had told Grace the trick was not just to be a prey to catch, but a damsel in distress. That’s why the rusted lock and the bolted door. And that’s why - at Belle’s insistence - the lie of an evil stepmother from whose clutches Nick would ‘rescue me’.

  I’m glad I told him the truth. I would have told him anyway, no matter what Belle and Grace were conniving. I’m glad that I did it sooner rather than later. That way, he still had the option of bowing out and pretending I never existed. Except after all the things he said to me, I didn’t really think he would give me up. And he didn’t. He’s looking for me this very minute and it makes me so happy!

  Still, why leave the shoe then, you ask?

  Because of Nick’s love for the hunt.

  Nick loved that he was the one to initiate…things, and now he can search for me.

  And the whole kingdom will know how he searched far and wide for the girl of his dreams.

  I think I should dispose of this diary. Now, that my new life is about to start.

  Chapter 32. The Wedding

  Grace

  The tiara doesn’t want to stay in one place, namely on top of Ella’s poofy hair-do.

  ‘Stay still, so I can attach this thing with bobby-pins,’ I hiss through said bobby-pins. ‘Why do you insist on having the tiara in the first place is beyond me. It’s just a place-holder…’ I stick more pins around and under it ‘…for the crown. Since the coronation is straight after the wedding.’ I growl at Ella.

  She sighs, ‘It’s just prettier that way, don’t you think?’

  ‘Not if you have to rip it away along with strands of your hair it isn’t,’ I counter.

  Bobby-pins aren’t helping.

  Glue.

  I need glue.

  I sigh.

  I wish.

  I’ll just have to use more bobby-pins so it will hold in one place in the middle of the hair and Ella can reach up and elegantly remove the tiara so the Archbishop can hoist a tiny golden crown onto her head instead.

  Why did I agree to this again?

  Oh, right.

  Because she asked.

  Ella looks at herself in the mirror and tilts her head. The tiara slides and takes half her hairdo with it.

  How am I supposed to keep the damn thing in place?

  ‘So you think that I should continue looking like this even after the wedding?’ Ella asks, fingering one of her dark locks.

  ‘Yes,’ I say and yank her chin up so she stands straight.

  ‘You know…’

  I brace myself for any number of stupid, selfish, conceited remarks that I can think of to come out of that mouth….

  ‘…I actually look…good,’ she says, looking surprised.

  ‘Of course you do. But, if you like yourself the way you were better, then at least wait until the baby is born…’ and maybe a few years after ‘…after you’re done looking like hell with all the feeding and not sleeping nights…then attempt a make-over. Maybe,’ I say. The secret to your married life will be you looking like your husband’s demure mom rather than the skirts he used to chase. But you can certainly experiment, see him stray after his ideal type and then see the light and revert back.

  ‘Interesting. I can hear you, you do remember, right?’ Ella says.

  Counting on it.

  If you’re serious about switching back, at least try a blond wig first, to see how he reacts rather than bleaching it and having to dye it back to brown to assure fidelity.

  Ella looks crossly at me, ‘Love is not about hair.’

  ‘Profound, but sadly, it sometimes is about the looks,’ I say.

  ‘You know, he does love me. And he’s not the dog everyone thinks he is…’

  His own parents shoved sexy nannies at him and the aristos took advantage and started sending their daughters in the hopes of making one of them queen. Nick told me.

  Ella looks sad after thinking this.

  Interesting. Now this ability of yours seems to be going both ways. Thank you for sharing.

  Ella blinks, ‘You can hear me?’

  I remember when Nick whisked her away and I heard her thank me without opening her mouth.

  I think the first time I heard YOU was the day you were ’rescued’.

  Out loud I say, ‘Maybe your powers are expanding because of the…’ I make goo-goo eyes at her stomach.

  Ella raises a finger to her lips. You never know who might be listening.

  I nod. ‘Is your GODmother coming to the ceremony?’ I change the topic, adjusting her veil.

  Ella bites her lip, ‘Nope. She’s off again, chasing after the man of her dreams.’

  Your father.

  Ella shrugs.

  She came by and borrowed m
y shoes.

  Stole them, you mean. Great, how am I going to get home now? You think it was fun, skulking here, in disguise?

  Ella shrugs and continues as if she hasn’t heard me, ‘I think she needed them to go find Oz. She got very excited when I mentioned who they belonged to and asked how they work. When I told her, she begged to try them on. Both of them at the same time. Which made them recognise her as their new owner. She made a huge show of putting them back. But when she left, the shoes were also gone. I thought they would be on display at the palace for a month or so and then I’d return them to Loretta and she to Oz. I just wanted her to be happy for me, to know my story. She just wanted the shoes. So, I don’t care where she or they are off to, I really don’t.’

  Ella, Mellie can’t help herself.

  I know, but hope dies last. Correction. Died last.

  ‘Ok then. Ready?’

  Ella nods and heads towards the door.

  I stay where I am. I guess I can sneak out the same way I sneaked in.

  ‘Thank you!’ she says.

  ‘Scoot!’ I shoo her off, ‘It’s the eve of Henry’s third birthday, I have more important things to take care of.’

  Ella looks hurt, ‘Yes, like MY wedding! Why didn’t you bring him? He could have had a slice of cake…’

  I roll my eyes, ‘A slice? Can you imagine him being able to keep his little hands away from your wedding cake? I don’t think so. Peter will be there to walk you down the aisle, but after that for all practical purposes your old family will be blending into the tapestry.’

  ‘I would still have loved for my siblings to see…to be with me on this important day,’ she says.

  ‘You can see them when you come back once a month to visit. Your wedding is about to start. Now, shoo! Enjoy the ball. All good things come in threes. Boys, balls, happily ever afters.’

  ‘Happily ever afters?’

  ‘From Cinders to Princess Elizabeth and Queen Elizabeth some day AND a marriage for love. I’d say that is a very happily-ever-after.’

  Ella smiles at me as the trumpets sound outside.