Survival of the Sparkliest!

by Sarah Aronson

  It was a terrible time.

  So the Bests banished her. Not because she failed. Not even because she used those sparkles. The Bests banished her because she did the one thing a fairy godmother should never do.

  She put herself before her princess.

  In other words: Making the princess happily ever after was her own wish.

  Grandmomma looked very sad and a little angry. She looked like someone who wanted to choose her next words very carefully.

  “Believe me, I tried. I tried everything I could to make the Bests change their minds. I started the training program. And expanded the Wish List.” She took Isabelle’s hands. “Isabelle, fairy godmothers are wish granters. Not wish makers. We do not put ourselves first! Ever! This is the reason your sister feels so strongly about following every rule in the book. It’s why I can’t ask her to help us—because she hasn’t been able to forgive your mother for breaking the rules and leaving us.

  “At least not yet.

  “But I can. And if I can find your mother, I can do even more. I can help the princess. I can offer your mother the chance to apologize. And then I will forgive her. And I bet everyone else will, too.” She sighed. “Isabelle, there have been moments when I thought I could find her, but now I have to confess: I need help. I want to see her. I want to be a family again. That’s the only way this story can end.”

  Isabelle sat very quietly for a long time.

  “Why do you think I can do this?”

  Even though she wanted to help Grandmomma, it was a reasonable question.

  “For three reasons,” Grandmomma said. “First, because your mother was brave enough to reach out to you.” (She meant the ring. And the whisper. And that somehow, Mom knew what Isabelle was up to.) “And, well, you got yourself in hot water, which makes you the perfect person to search for her.” She shrugged. “But mostly because you’re her daughter. You’ll keep my secret. And you happen to be a lot alike—in good ways. Just as she did when she was young, you act with your heart.”

  Grandmomma held up her wand. “So will you help me?”

  Before Isabelle would say yes, she had one more question. “So why the urgency? Why did you have to ruin Level Four? Why couldn’t you let me become an official fairy godmother? Why do you want to find her now?”

  A Note to the Reader about the very sad thing you are about to find out:

  In every book (and series), even one that is all about happily ever after, there is always a sad part.

  For this book, this is it.

  Isabelle knew it. She knew the way Grandmomma looked at her. She knew before Grandmomma said it.

  But part of her still didn’t want to know.

  “This is not easy for me to say,” Grandmomma said, “but I’m sure you already noticed my hands. And my office.”

  Grandmomma’s hands were thinner than usual. They shook a lot. They didn’t look strong. There was also the whole thing with her office. But she was an ancient fairy godmother. Those things were normal.

  Or maybe they weren’t.

  “I haven’t wanted to admit it, but it’s been clear for a long time: My days as the president of the Fairy Godmother Alliance are limited. Soon, I will not be able to control my wand.”

  Isabelle ran to her strong, proud, powerful Grandmomma—with the emphasis on momma. She was the godmother who had led other godmothers to be great. She was the godmother who wrote the rules and who had written the book. And now …

  Even though Grandmomma wasn’t a hugger, Isabelle wrapped her arms around her and held on tight.

  “Where do I start?” she asked.

  Grandmomma reminded her that there was only one rule she had to follow. Isabelle had to do this secretly. Under the sparkle-radar. “Since they think you’re going to the Home, they won’t worry about you.” Then she handed her a wand.

  “Was this hers?” Isabelle asked.

  “It’s newer than that,” Grandmomma reminded her. “But I filled it with multicolor sparkles. If I gave you anything else, Luciana and Clotilda might get suspicious.”

  “So I’m on my own?”

  Grandmomma nodded. “Act like a detective. Look for clues. See what you find.” It sounded exciting and scary at the same time. “And if you find anything, or suspect anything, or need me in any way, just wave that wand in a swirling fashion.” She demonstrated what she meant, even though Isabelle was very good at making swirls. “If you do that, I will find you and help you out.” She patted Isabelle on the head. “But otherwise, yes. You can’t let anyone know what you’re doing.”

  “And you’re sure that includes Clotilda?”

  “I’m afraid it definitely includes your sister.”

  As they hugged one more time, Isabelle could feel Grandmomma’s heart beat steadily and strongly. Isabelle thought about everything she had told her about Mom.

  About her love for her daughters.

  And her love for the unhappy princess.

  “Isabelle, you can do this,” Grandmomma said. “You can find your mom. I believe in you. If you get stuck, ask yourself: What would you do for Nora? And I am sure you’ll find your way.”

  Isabelle wasn’t quite so confident. But she wanted to do this more than anything else in the fairy godmother world. “After I find Mom,” Isabelle said, “you’ll tell Luciana, Raine, and Kaminari to give me another chance?”

  “I will,” Grandmomma said.

  “And if I don’t?”

  Grandmomma didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. There was only one way this story could end.

  In other words, Isabelle needed to find Mom quickly.

  Isabelle climbed out of the basement, ditched her protective gear, walked to her room, and sat on her bed.

  She had a lot to think about.

  On one hand, Isabelle wanted to twirl and dance. Mom had spoken to her! This hadn’t been her imagination. Even though she couldn’t tell anyone that the accident hadn’t been totally her fault, she finally had a chance to prove herself—with sparkles, and even better, without any of the pesky rules that had been holding her back.

  On the other hand, now that she didn’t have to follow the rules, she had no idea what to do. For the first time ever, she could’ve used some of Clotilda’s dos and don’ts—her advice and quick thinking.

  She also was sure that this would be a lot easier if she could tell her sister everything.

  But Grandmomma had made it clear: Isabelle was on her own. And she couldn’t do any magic that would attract attention.

  It was a bit overwhelming!

  Because she had no idea where to begin, Isabelle went to the one place she always went when she felt scared or lonely or needed a boost of confidence: the top of the tower and the cozy spot between the girlgoyles. For once, their inability to hear and speak was an advantage.

  She asked them three questions. “What do you think I should do first?” And “Where do you think Mom is?” And “Do you remember the unhappy princess?”

  Obviously, they said nothing.

  So she made up their answers, and at the same time, tried to boost her confidence.

  “Do what Clotilda would do,” one girlgoyle didn’t say.

  The other one silently agreed. “Just leave out the red and black sparkles.”

  She was sure they remembered the princess as well as Mom—that they’d been friends with her, too. She was sure that they thought she could do this. And that Mom was waiting for her.

  And that when this was all done, she would not be living in the Home.

  But a sign of some kind would be nice. So she looked up at the sky for the special sparkly star. She started to make the wish she always made, but then she stopped. If she was going to be a great fairy godmother—if she was going to find Mom—she had to start doing and listening and granting. Grandmomma had made it clear: This was her job. So instead of pretending that she could hope Mom home, she threw a few sparkles into the sky.

  She wondered:

  “Where might she be?
”

  “Why couldn’t she help me?”

  “What am I going to do first?”

  “What would I do for Nora?”

  Clotilda would say, “Look in the book.” But Grandmomma said, “Look in your heart.” So that’s what she did. And of course, because she couldn’t help it, she looked at Mom’s ring and held it toward the star.

  She expected it to turn green, for responsibility. But instead, the ring sparkled a beautiful light blue, for the power of friendship.

  Isabelle couldn’t help but feel awful! If she hadn’t messed up, she’d probably be with Nora now. She understood why Mom had hidden the princess. She understood what it meant to become friends with a princess. She knew how it felt to be connected not just to the wish, but also to the person who was making it!

  And that’s when she realized a very important truth: If she wanted to find Mom, she needed to find the unhappy princess.

  A plan took shape in Isabelle’s mind. If Mom had enough sparkles to leave her the ring and whisper to her during training, Isabelle was 99.9 percent positive she still had enough sparkles to hear the unhappy princess. And maybe, if Isabelle found the unhappy princess and convinced her to make a wish, Mom would have enough sparkles to appear to grant her wish. And then she would see Isabelle. And together, they would go home.

  It was a perfect plan.

  It made total sparkly sense.

  The only problem was: How was she going to start?

  She thought about the picture of the very strong-looking woman—the one who was not the princess, but looked vaguely familiar.

  She had to be part of it. Maybe she needed to find her first.

  So she sat very still.

  And very quietly.

  And she thought about the story. About love (yuck) and all the other things the princess must have cared about. She thought about Mom wanting to make her happy. She thought about how hard it would be to have a princess that was unhappy for all this time.

  And then she heard something.

  It wasn’t a whisper—not like the voice during training.

  It wasn’t a girlgoyle, either.

  It was a girl with wild hair and big goals and one gigantic problem.

  It was Nora.

  Isabelle tried not to listen. She tried not to care.

  She knew Nora was not going to help her find the unhappy princess, and that if she wanted to stay under the radar, she had to stay far away from her.

  But that was easier said than done.

  No matter how hard she tried to focus on the unhappy princess, whoever she was, all she could hear was Nora.

  She could hear Nora talking.

  She could hear Nora complaining.

  She could hear Nora stomping her foot.

  She could hear Nora’s friends, too, as though they wanted to help her but didn’t know how. This made Isabelle feel even worse. Because of her mistakes, Nora probably wasn’t going to get help.

  That wasn’t fair.

  It also wasn’t right. It wasn’t the fairy godmother way.

  That’s when Isabelle realized something amazing—and somewhat convenient. What was the point of having no rules and a whole wand full of sparkles if you couldn’t go visit an old friend? Everyone thought she was at the Home. What was the point of keeping Grandmomma’s secret if she couldn’t do a little snooping for herself?

  If it was really against the rules, Grandmomma would have forbidden it specifically.

  With the flick of her wand, Isabelle puffed down to the park where she and Nora first met. Today, the air was chilly. The ground was covered with a crusty layer of snow. Nora stood under a tree with her friends Samantha, Mason, and Janet. Nearby, a bigger group of kids huddled together. A few others ran around, throwing snowballs or building snow people.

  A gust of wind tickled Isabelle’s nose.

  It looked as if most of the kids were having fun.

  But not Nora. When a very tall boy threw a snowball at her (but missed), she shook her fist and yelled, “I’m going to beat you at the ballot box, James Stuart Henderson!”

  She did not seem anywhere close to happily ever after. So Isabelle crept closer to hear what Nora was saying.

  “Did you hand out the policy sheets?” Nora asked Samantha, breaking through the top layer of snow with her foot. “Did you tell them to pay special attention to pages six and ten and fourteen, where I map out my plans for updating the school’s science program? About making the park prettier?”

  Samantha promised she had.

  Nora ducked when another snowball came flying. “Then why is everyone saying they are voting for James?”

  Isabelle turned around to check out the crowd of kids talking to the tall boy that had thrown the first snowball. They looked as if they were eating treats and having fun. Not talking about serious things like plans and problems and policies.

  They also held red, blue, and bright green signs—just like the Grands had during the strike. But these signs were not protests. They said things like: JAMES STUART HENDERSON 4 PREZ. And JAMES STUART HENDERSON IS THE BEST. And VOTE FOR JAMES; GET A SLICE!

  In the regular world, unlike in the fairy godmother world, contests and elections were not always fair and square, or in other words, about the issues. Nora didn’t seem to know that.

  But Samantha, Mason, and Janet did.

  “We should order some pizza,” Samantha said.

  “Or maybe get some candy,” Mason suggested.

  Janet had the best idea of all. “Or can we get your stepmom to bake?”

  Isabelle’s mouth watered. Nora’s stepmom was an excellent baker, as close to magical as a baker could be in the regular world. Isabelle especially loved the purple macarons she’d made when Isabelle and Nora first became friends. She could practically taste them even now.

  But Nora did not want to win that way.

  “This shouldn’t be a popularity contest, or about free food,” she said. “This should be about the issues! And if we are talking issues, I am the only one with a plan for fixing the sidewalk. I am the only one with a plan for adding more crossing guards. And I’m the only one with a plan for raising money with a story night. All of us can come to school in our pajamas. It will be so much fun. My stepmom can make treats for that.”

  Mason didn’t think that was enough. “If you don’t want to give out food, maybe help kids with their homework.”

  “Mason’s right,” Janet said. “The election is three days away! You have to do something big.”

  When Nora looked up at the clouds, Isabelle had to stop herself from raising her wand. She could feel Nora wondering how she could make a wish to win the election and still win it the right way—the honorable way. It was just as well that she couldn’t figure it out. Isabelle couldn’t do anything about it. Not without getting caught.

  So even though every muscle in her body wanted to stay, Isabelle had to get out of there. In other words, Isabelle had to find Mom. For herself. And Grandmomma. And Clotilda, too. This was her maximum sparkle responsibility. Isabelle was not going to get any closer to finding her if she stayed here.

  So she started walking down the street toward Nora’s house and the tree in her backyard. It wasn’t as cozy as the spot between the girlgoyles, but it would be cozy enough.

  There was only one thing she forgot: Climbing a tree in the winter isn’t quite the same as climbing a tree when the weather is warm.

  The branches were cold and slippery. There were no leaves to hide in. The ladder was nowhere to be found. So instead of climbing, she sat down on the ground. She examined her ring. (It was now greenish blue.) She took out a notebook and wrote down everything she knew about the unhappy princess before she became unhappy.

  Then she drew a few curlicues.

  And a few wands and crowns.

  All this drawing did not solve her problem. But it did give her an amazing idea—one she should have thought up already!

  She had to start at the beginning of the story,
to the place where it all began. In other words, the unhappy princess’s palace.

  Isabelle jumped up and whipped out her wand. She swished it across the horizon.

  She needed to go to the scene of the crime—to the unhappy princess’s Once Upon a Time. To the place where it all began.

  A moment later, Isabelle stood inside the unhappy princess’s castle. Just like Grandmomma’s castle, it had a beautiful foyer filled with golden urns and beautiful fountains, and chocolate treats were on every table. There were gigantic towers with gargoyles that did not look like girls, and lions on every door. And there were beautiful rooms filled with flowers and fountains and fancy furniture, most of them covered in gold or silver.

  As she snooped around the halls, she saw paintings of generations of princesses, kings, and queens—all in fancy golden frames.

  This was exciting! There would surely be a portrait of the princess hanging on one of these walls.

  But after searching every hall, Isabelle gave up. It was clear that when the unhappy princess disappeared (with the help of Mom), her parents were so distraught that they took down her portrait—so Isabelle couldn’t see what she looked like.

  This was discouraging.

  But Isabelle didn’t give up.

  She decided to go snoop on the current princess, the Cousin of the unhappy one. Maybe that would work.

  From the Wish List, she knew that this princess had been on the top of a lot of godmothers’ Best Princess lists. (In other words, she’d seemed easy to make happily ever after.) That was because this princess, like the unhappy princess, was also strong and very beloved. She had many useful skills, from math to fine arts to baking, helping animals, and especially making every single person she met feel happy. (In other words, she was good at everything.)

  But Isabelle also knew that this princess already had a fairy godmother—an old, cautious one. And she was hovering nearby, waiting for the princess to make a wish! So she had to be careful.

  Luckily, the new princess did not have wishing on the brain. Today, she was getting ready to visit sick children in the hospital. She had a bunch of stuffed bunnies to give them to make them feel comforted.