Cinderella: Ninja Warrior

by Maureen McGowan

  An image of Ty’s face flashed through her mind and tightened her chest, filling her with happy apprehension that stirred the nerves in her belly and made her swoon. Could what she felt for Ty be love? It didn’t seem possible, but, she suddenly realized, the locket had opened when she’d thought about him.

  But what did it matter if she were falling in love? Even if he felt the same way, they could never be together. Not with her stepmother’s spell hanging over her.

  She shook her head. Where had that thought come from, anyhow? Her only concern if she got free was forging a life for herself. And winning the magic competition was the first crucial step in that plan. “I wanted to win magic lessons today,” she told Max. “But now I’m too late to compete.” Not to mention still trapped.

  “Nonsense,” Max said. “You might miss part of the opening ceremonies, but you can still make it.”

  “Do you mean it?” She pressed her hand against her galloping heart. “Can you break my stepmother’s entrapment spells?” Hope and joy buzzed around inside her. She was finally free.

  Max licked the back of his hand, and wiped his hair back.

  Her heart dropped. “I guess you can’t.”

  “I can’t break them.” He held her arm.“The best I can do is temporarily suspend them.” He paced around the room. “This has a better chance of working if I define a set time limit and link that to the cost.”

  “The cost?”

  “There’s always a cost when you alter black magic, but let me worry about that.” He looked away, as if thinking, then turned back to her. “I can release you long enough to go to the magic competition and ball, but if you’re not back home by midnight . . .” He twisted his lips. “Let’s just say it’ll be bad.”

  “Bad? How bad? What will happen? You have to tell me. Will I turn into a pumpkin or something?”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “There are no orange gourds involved, my dear.” His tone turned serious, “But the consequences will be bad—for both of us.”

  “What are the consequences?”

  He paused for a moment to think, running the back of his hand over his cheek and then, as if suddenly realizing the feline nature of this gesture, he turned his hand over to rub his chin the way humans did, using his fingers.

  “If you’re not back by midnight, your stepmother’s entrapment spells will become stronger, nearly impossible to break, and I”—he lowered his voice and looked down to the ground, hesitating before continuing with the truth—“I’ll turn back into a mouse.” He spoke so quietly she could barely hear him. “Forever.”

  Her chest nearly imploded.“Forever? Is that the cost?” She considered the weight of this cost.

  He nodded and looked away, and she got the impression there was more he wasn’t telling her. She grabbed his hand. “Then I can’t go. The risk is too high. I can’t have you turn into a mouse forever. What if I can’t get back here in time?”

  He brushed a stray hair off her cheek.“It’s worth the risk, Cinderella. And you’ll be back in time, I’m sure of it. I have faith in you.”

  “Do you have time to teach me how to use this?” She held up the magic wand.

  “Oh, you won’t be needing that.” He reached for it.

  “Yes, I will. I barely know any magic.” She smiled sheepishly. “Well, you know that, don’t you?” She shook her head, realizing how Max had been guiding her training, even in his cat form. “You’ve seen my limitations. I won’t have a chance without a wand.”

  “Cinderella,” he said, “you’re bound to make mistakes if you use a powerful instrument like this wand.”

  “But I changed you from a cat to a person!”

  “On purpose?” He put his hands on his hips.

  She looked down. “Well, not exactly.”

  “That’s because I did most of it, Cinderella. I put the magic into the wand. All you did was wave it over me.”

  Her heart dropped. “Oh.”

  He squeezed her arm. “You helped. You do have real magic inside you. Not everyone would have been able to complete my spell.” A fleck of dust floated in front of him in the sunbeam and he batted at it like a cat. Then, looking embarrassed, he turned to her.“ Trust yourself, Cinderella. The most powerful magic isn’t inside a wand, it’s inside you.”

  Is Max serious?

  Cinderella’s barely a beginner at magic. How in the world can she compete against others who’ve trained with less, um, feline wizards, and had wands their whole lives? Then again, Max seems to know a lot about magic, and even as a cat, he helped her a lot.

  If you were Cinderella, what would you do?

  OPTION A: Insist that Max give Cinderella the wand and then dash off to the competition. If he were that great at magic, he’d have turned himself back into a human years ago. He needed Cinderella’s help for that, even if all she did was some timely wand-waving. She needs to win those lessons, and her mother’s wand is her best chance to stand out from the crowd. Cinderella will be back by midnight to free him from the spell. If you think this is her best choice, go to section 5: Firestorm (page 143).

  OPTION B: Cinderella should follow Max’s advice and leave the wand behind. Even if he’s still acting a bit feline, he’s right. She has talent as a wizard, and can even move things with her mind. Cinderella can win without the wand. If not, she will have done her best. If you think she should give it a try, without the wand, go to section 6: Balancing Act (page 177).

  Section 5

  FIRESTORM

  5

  “Don’t be such a worrywart, Max. If my stepsisters can lift melons off a railing the same day they buy wands, then certainly after all you made me do in the garden I can do a lot better than that.”

  She hoped.

  Max beamed at her acknowledgment of his help, but then his expression turned serious. “Decide for yourself, Cinderella. Magic is in your blood, but I trained with a wizard for three years, working on concentration and body control, before I was allowed to even touch a magic wand.”

  “But I’ve trained with you for longer than that.” She wondered if training with a cat counted. “Besides, one way or another, I need to get out of this place. The competition is starting soon, and even if I run, it will take me at least thirty minutes to get down the forest path to the village. Unless . . .” She looked at Max and a sheepish smile spread across her face as she considered using her new wand to conjure a carriage and horses to take her.

  She realized she was getting way too ahead of herself. She wasn’t even out of the house yet. “Are you sure you can get me out off the grounds?”

  “Yes, I can,” he said. “But remember, be back by midnight, and not a moment later.”

  She nodded and tucked the locket inside her dress. It felt warm and heavy next to her skin.

  “Now, give me the wand,” Max said.

  “No.” She put it behind her back. “I’m using it to compete.” She’d decided. Using the wand had its risks, but it was her best chance.

  He put his hands on his hips. “If I don’t alter your stepmother’s spell to break you out of here, you won’t get to the competition.”

  “Oh.” She reluctantly pulled the wand out and handed it over.“You’ll give it back, right?”

  Max nodded, but he didn’t look pleased at her insinuation. He backed up a few feet, cleared his throat, and adjusted the shiny black belt over his round belly. The look on his face told her he was more perplexed than confident.

  She was suddenly apprehensive. “Are you sure you can do this?”

  He licked the back of his hand and wiped it over his forehead, pushing his hair back. “Shh. Give me a moment. It’s been a few years since I’ve tried anything this big.”

  “You could do magic as a cat?”

  “Some. How do you think I got that book off the shelf?” His bushy eyebrows pulled together in concentration.

  To give him space, she backed over to the side of the room in front of the cupboard. She didn’t want to get her h
opes up too high, but the past hour had been the most incredible of her life. She’d finally found her mother’s wand, helped turn her cat into her godfather, and now he was breaking her stepmother’s entrapment spells! Even if the break was only temporary, it was the freedom was exhilirating!

  Max lifted the wand, then sniffed around the room, occasionally bending to put his ear up against a piece of furniture.

  A look of defeat on his face, he lowered the wand. Then, eyes widening, he raised it in triumph, only to lower it once more. He repeated this curious motion several times.

  Cinderella’s hopes dove up and down with his wand, and she fidgeted, pulling at a loose thread on her apron, resisting the temptation to stamp her foot and insist that he hurry. Before she even reached the competition, she had a long run into the village ahead of her. And thieves in the forest might slow her down.

  “Ah,” he said after resting his hand softly on the handle of the door to the garden. He backed up and then turned in a slow circle, raising and lowering the wand.

  As he turned, pink sparks came off the wand and transformed into an undulating trail of sparkling waves. Max muttered as he turned, but Cinderella couldn’t make out his words. It sounded like nonsense. If this was how one used a wand, how in the world was she going to win the competition? She didn’t know the words for the spells.

  She studied Max carefully, paying attention to every detail, hoping to pick up some clues and remember, but whatever he was doing was far too advanced. Even with her little fire-starting incident, she hadn’t made the wand spark. Not like that. She hoped the competition judges wouldn’t expect her to do these kinds of things, but if Max didn’t pull this off, she’d never have the chance to find out.

  The sparkling pink waves now surrounded Max, as if he were spinning inside a shimmering veil, and just when she thought he’d wear a hole in the flagstones from turning so much, he stopped abruptly and raised both arms in the air.

  The waves flowed out from Max and slammed into the walls and ceiling and floor, then rippled back to the room’s center before heading directly for her. She pulled in a breath and braced herself, expecting the usual pain that accompanied her stepmother’s spells. As the energy swirled around her, every hair on her skin rose and tingled.

  Tiny sparks—pink and silver and gold—traced their way up and down her arms, her legs, her entire body.

  Something slammed into her, and her body tensed. An invisible force tightened around her ribs, but it wasn’t painful; it was more like a giant hug, and in spite of the magical embrace, fear crept through her excitement and amazement. She suddenly became nervous and wondered what Max was doing. What if his spell alterations got all mixed up and she turned into a mouse?

  The sparks consolidated into a long line, circled her five times, then trailed and swirled back into the wand. Max flicked the wand again, hard, toward the cellar door, and then lowered his arms.

  His face was bright red and he bent over, panting.

  She ran to his side. “Are you okay?” She rested her hand on his heaving back, resisting the urge to scratch at the gray velvet as if it were fur. “Please tell me you’re going to be okay. I don’t care if I can’t compete. It’s not worth it if it’s going to hurt you.”

  Still bent over, he raised his hand and pointed toward the cellar door. A cool breeze blew in, carrying a few dandelion seeds to dance over the stone floor.

  She gasped with a breath full of joy and hope.

  The door was open.

  She clapped her hands and twirled, happier than she’d felt since before her father had died—maybe ever.

  “You did it!”

  He straightened and smiled, but he looked a little tired. “Can you get me the stool?”

  She fetched it and held his arm as he sat. “Careful, Max. It has a wobbly leg.”

  “I know. I’ve been living here, too.” After sitting down, he held her hand and guided her to stand squarely in front of him. He examined her dress and squinted his eyes. “Now, about clothes. You’re going to need a gown and slippers for that ball.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “There isn’t time. Besides, all I care about is the competition.”

  “You should go to the ball, Cinderella. A girl like you deserves a little fun in her life.”

  The idea was tempting, especially if she got a chance to see Ty, but she had to focus. “Max, if I don’t get going, I won’t make it to the competition.”

  He squeezed her hands. “Okay, then let’s get you something to wear for that.”

  She stepped back and he got up to cast another spell. Within moments she was no longer dressed in her rags; she was dressed in a sleek white top and trousers, belted at the waist. She leaned and kicked to one side and then to the other. Perfect. It was similar to a ninja outfit, except white, and offered much freer movement than would have in her skirt—let alone a fancy dress.

  Max took her hand. “At midnight, no matter what you’re wearing, you’ll find yourself back in your normal clothes. In fact, at midnight, everything goes back the way it was, even—” He stopped himself midsentence and looked down.

  “Even what?” There was something he wasn’t telling her, maybe some other element to the cost.

  “Never you mind,” he said. “Just be back by midnight.”

  “I won’t let you down.” Midnight was no problem. It was too bad she couldn’t keep this great outfit to train in, but she had no place to hide it anyway. And as for changing back into rags, as long as these clothes lasted until the competition ended and she caught a few moments with Ty, she would be happy.

  Even if her dreams to escape today had been quashed by the need to get home to save Max, as long as she won those lessons, escape would be in her future, somehow. Surely her stepmother couldn’t stop the royal wizard if he wanted to train her.

  She picked up the wand and tucked it into a narrow pocket along the chest of the jacket, clearly designed for that purpose. She pressed her hand into her chest, glad to find the locket still there after Max’s spell.

  “Are you still determined to compete with the wand?” Max asked.

  She nodded, nerves scrambling her confidence. “Yes. I mean, look what you did with it. I know I don’t have your training or experience, but even so, it’s clearly very powerful.” Plus, it did belong to her mother, so it should match her innate powers. She’d ignore the fact that while using it, she’d tipped over the stool, scorched the door, and nearly set fire to her bed. Instead she’d concentrate on how she’d helped to turn a cat back into a man. It was all about confidence.

  Max shook his head, but smiled in a way that made her think of her father. No wonder the two had been friends.

  “The power of the magic is not in the wand, Cinderella. The power is inside you.” He pulled her toward the open door.“Now, let’s talk about your transportation.”

  Clutching her wand, Cinderella ran toward the guard standing in front of the competitors’ door to the arena. The horse and carriage Max had miraculously made for her from bits and pieces he’d gathered in the garden had gotten her here fast, but not fast enough. Too bad it was only a one-way ride, but she could easily run home.

  Max had wasted too much time trying to talk her out of using the wand. Although still nervous about her decision, she figured she needed all the help she could get. And as the daughter of the wizard who’d owned and trained with this wand, surely she’d be able to harness its power.

  “I’d like to enter the magic competition,” she told the guard.

  “You’re too late,” he replied coldly, widening his stance. His huge body blocked the entire entranceway.

  The chatter of a crowd of young people floated through the dark passageway behind him, beyond which she could see the glow of a brightly lit room, or perhaps it was the sunshine gleaming from the arena floor itself.

  Maybe she should duck through his legs? No, that might get her in, but it wouldn’t get her entered, and to win she needed to be officially entered.�
�I’ve got the application filled out,” she told the guard, and pulled it from the back pocket of her trousers.

  “Still too late,” he said.

  “Please.” She stepped back and bowed her head slightly in front of the man.“You wouldn’t believe what I went through to get here. Entering this competition is a matter of life or death.”

  “Life or death? Yeah, right.” He slanted one side of his mouth up in obvious skepticism.

  “Yes. Life or death.” Because clearly she’d die one day at her stepmother’s hands if she couldn’t break free of her spells.

  “Listen, lass.” The guard’s face softened at her earnestness, but his stance did not. “Hundreds of pretty young things like yourself want to win a dance with Prince Tiberius, but they showed up on time. Why should I make an exception for you?”

  Cinderella bit down on her lip. He had made a good point. She wasn’t anyone special, and asking for exceptional treatment, well, that was just wrong.

  Her heart sank. Max had taken such a risk in breaking the entrapment spells for the day, and she’d wasted it. Now she’d have no chance to win the lessons and she certainly couldn’t go to the ball dressed in this outfit. She took a long breath to force out her disappointment. “Is it too late to go in to watch?” She would make the most of it, and maybe learn some new magic by observing.

  And even though she couldn’t compete, she had until midnight to get home. Might as well take advantage of her freedom, however short-lived it might be. Ty told her he watched the competition every year, so there was a chance she’d find him inside.

  The guard gestured to the right with his head. “Spectators’ entrance is that way. Don’t know if you’ll find an empty seat at this time, but you can give it a go.”

  “Thank you.” She curtsied to the guard, and then turned to head for the other entrance.