The Cinderella Theorem

by Kristee Ravan

  “Of course.”

  “How do you take it?” She began pouring.

  Uh... “With sugar,” I said, glancing at the first thing on the table. Cinderella added the sugar cubes and passed the teacup to me.

  “So,” Cinderella began, “tell me, Princess, do you like our world?”

  I surprised myself by saying: “I do, actually.”[36]

  “It must be very difficult to have your life change like this. Why,” she paused, thinking, “you can’t have known about all this for much more than a week, I imagine.”

  I nodded. “It is nine days, today.”

  Cinderella smiled, “I must say, Princess, that I think you a have remarkably good attitude about everything. If my father were to come back to life after being dead, I don’t know if I should be able to accept it as well as you.”

  “Thank you.” I managed. During her last speech, I had burned my tongue on the tea. Shock from the fact she thought I had a good attitude led me sip too much hot tea. I suppose I am trying, I can easily say that my attitude is infinitely greater than Calo’s. “Please just call me Lily, though. I’m not used to all this ‘Princess’ business.”

  “And you must call me Ella.” She passed the tray of cookies. “May I ask what were you doing at Arthur’s? I hope his Happiness levels were not too low.”

  “No, nothing like that.” I took a cookie. “He was within the normal range, only Less than Happy, but he volunteered to let me practice on him.”

  “How nice.” She smiled and sipped her tea. “And what was the result?”

  “It went very well; he became Happy, but—” I stopped. I wasn’t sure if I should share my suspicions about Levi and the effect his letter had on Arthur.

  “But?”

  “But, well…I’m not sure it had a lasting effect.” No one said it was a secret; there could be no wrong in telling. “He was so angry when I left.”

  Ella raised her eyebrows. “But angry is not the same as unhappy,” she said slowly, then paused, “Why did he become angry?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but I think it was because of the letter he received.”

  “A letter,” Ella repeated, thoughtfully. “Did he say who the letter was from?”

  “No, he didn’t. But,” I went on in a rush, “I think it was from Levi.”

  “Levi? Levi, the sycophant?”

  I nodded.

  “But then,” she smiled to herself, “yes, that would explain it all. Tell me, Lily: was it storming when you arrived at Arthur’s?”

  “No. It started as we were leaving.”

  “Exactly.” She put down her teacup. “Come with me. I believe I can explain at least the anger and the storm to you.”

  I nodded and followed her out of the parlor. We went back into the hall and up the stairs. Ella led me into a room off the first landing.

  “This is the map room,” she said.

  And I had to agree. Every inch of the walls (except for the small windows that let in copious and illogical amounts of sunshine) was covered with maps. A table in the center of the room was piled high with atlases.

  “You have a lot of maps,” I remarked, noticing detailed maps of my world, a wall devoted to maps of the moon, and a globe of a planet that I was not familiar with.

  Ella looked around, “Oh, I suppose we do. Aven’s a bit of a cartography nut, and he’s Chief Cartographer for your father.”

  “Who’s Aven? And what’s a cartographer?”

  Ella started moving the atlases off the table. They hit the stone floor with echoing thuds. “Aven is Prince Avenant–Prince Charming to you.” Another atlas thud. She added as an afterthought, “And, he’s my husband.” (Atlas. Thud.) “Cartography is map-making, so a cartographer—”

  “Is a map-maker,” we finished together.

  “Exactly,” Ella dropped the last atlas to the floor. “But since he is out surveying Avalon for a new contour map the Weird Sisters have commissioned, we can use the map table.”

  There was a strange hint of bitterness as she spoke. I didn’t know what a contour map was or who the Weird Sisters were, but I didn’t think it was a good time to ask.

  Ella felt along the side of the table and flipped a switch. Immediately, the map table lit up. A voice from somewhere in the table spoke:

  “Many maps have I to show:

  of the Salt Land and Oslo.

  Make your pick.

  Speak it quick.”

  “Good afternoon, Map Table,” Ella said, clearly used to the demands of her furniture.

  “Good afternoon, Ella,” the voice answered back. “Good afternoon, Princess. You’re a bit off your course, aren’t you?”

  “I got lost in a storm.” Odd though it was, there was some unaccounted for excitement in talking to a table. I began to wonder if this was normal for Smythian furniture. Would the chalkboard in my room at the castle assist with math problems? Could my squishy chair tell me where I had left something I’d lost?

  But I had to stop thinking about animated furniture and pay attention. The table was talking again.

  “Ahh, a storm. Could have happened to anyone. It’s easy to lose yourself that way. But you ought to be traveling with a map. I can’t think why you haven’t already been given one. I shall tell Aven to make you one. I say, it’s dreadfully remiss, having your princess without a decent map.”

  “Map Table,” Ella took advantage of a pause in his monologue on the evils of mapless travel. “Could you show us the weather map of the kingdom? And prepare the FK map as well. I want to explain the Fisher King myth to Lily.”

  “Quite right,” the table answered, and a map of the kingdom appeared. I had not yet seen a map of Smythe, so I was interested to see my new world.

  It was like a weather map on the six o’clock news, except in 3D. Clouds and suns dotted the map. I saw the Protector’s castle right in the center, surrounded by its moat. Then, in beautiful, mathematically correct, concentric circles moving out from the castle were the woods. The first wood was the first circle; the second wood was the second circle, and so on. There were seven in all. It looked like a giant had dropped my castle in the center of a pond and the woods were the ripples. A river flowed down from Mount Olympus to the north, joined the moat around my castle and flowed out again to the sea, in the west. In the northern waters off the coast were the island of Avalon and the city of Atlantis.[37] In the Southeast, there was a hilly area labeled “The Dale.” And the Southwest was devoted to a large forest, different from the wood rings around the castle. The trees were clustered together, more like you would expect a forest to look. It was labeled “Sherwood.” Directly south was a darker forest, almost black, labeled “The Wildwood.” One corner of the Wildwood was completely black, labeled “Uppish Senna.” The land of Unhappiness where Tandem Tallis lived and sent out dead lilies and sparrows, where greasy Levi came from, where citizens vanish to languish in dungeons. I shuddered.

  “Okay, Lily,” Ella began by pointing out King Arthur’s castle in the sixth wood. “This is Arthur’s, where you were when you got caught in the storm. What time did the storm hit?”

  “Around five, I think,” I answered, after doing some mental math.

  “Great. Map Table, could you show us—”

  “Now showing the Weather Map from five o’clock PM.” The map changed slightly. Some of the clouds moved a few inches to the west.

  “Thank you, Map Table. Now, Lily, looking at the map, tell me what the weather was like at Arthur’s when you left.”

  I looked at Arthur’s castle, expecting to see dark stormy clouds, with lightning bolts coming from them. What I saw was a sun over the castle.

  “Well,” I stalled, trying to mathematically figure it out. “The map says it was sunny.”

  “Yes, it does.” Ella pointed to me as she spoke, emphasizing her point. “This is the map that shows the actual weather in the kingdom. Map Table, can we see the FK map now?”

  “Now showing the Fisher King map from five
o’clock PM.” The map changed. It was still a map of Smythe’s SFL, but some of the weather had changed. The most noticeable change was over Arthur’s. It was hard to see the actual castle; thick, dark clouds covered it. Lightning flashed, and listening carefully, I could hear rolls of thunder.

  “I don’t understand,” I admitted. “How can that storm not be the actual weather? How could I get drenched in a storm that wasn’t real?”

  Ella smiled. “Well, it was real, and it wasn’t.” She paused. “King Arthur is a king from the ancient days, and as such, he is subject to the Fisher King myth. In those ancient days, the people believed that the king was tied to the land, married to the land, even.”

  “Married to the land?” I asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Yes. If the king was healthy, the land would be productive and fruitful. If the king was ill, the land would become a wasteland.” She paused again. “Of course, this is a very simple explanation of the FK myth. I’m sure there’s a file at HEA that you could read for a more thorough explanation. Also, since there is so much magic loose here in Smythe’s SFL, the effects of the myth are more pronounced.”

  I began processing this. “So that means Arthur would not have to be very ill to make his kingdom a wasteland.”

  “Right, and by extension, his other emotions are also bound up in the Fisher King myth.”

  “Like anger?”

  “Exactly. When Arthur gets angry, storms come quickly.”

  “But his Fisher King weather isn’t real?” That storm had seemed awfully real. My clothes are in the dryer; my hair is wet. And how hard would it be to live in a place where the weather changed with someone’s emotions?

  “It’s real in the sense that you got wet and the rain was there. It’s not real in the way the monsters you saw in the dark when you were little weren’t real. You only ‘saw’ them because of the shadows or because you were afraid. You imagined them.”

  “I didn’t imagine that storm.”

  “Of course not. And Arthur didn’t either. The storm was only there because of his anger. When he calms down, the storm will cease. In fact,” she turned back to the table, “Map Table, show us the current FK map.”

  “Now showing the Fisher King map for 5:43 PM.” Once again, the table changed. The storm above Arthur’s was different now. It was less–less dark, less clouds, less thunder, less rain, and only an occasional streak of lightning.

  “You see?” Ella asked. “It’s clearing off. He must be calming down. Probably, he wrote a strongly worded letter to Levi to release his anger.”

  Weather that’s real and isn’t. I am no longer surprised that these citizens have trouble staying Happy. Everything about their world is unmathematical and abnormal.

  I asked a few more polite questions about maps and fake weather. Question: There are several kings in Smythe’s SFL. Does this Fisher King thing apply to all of them? Answer: Not to the extent that it does for Arthur. His case is even more pronounced because of his ancientness. The others are only mildly affected by it. For instance, my father would have to be very, very sick or very, very angry before he could change the weather. One of my follow-up questions was interrupted when a maid came in to say my clothes were dry. Ella asked her to put them in the room I had changed in earlier. After I dressed, combed my hair again, and gathered my bag and Glenni’s umbrella, I followed Ella out into the sunshine.

  “I am very glad that the storm got you lost, Lily. I hope you will visit again.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “After all, it’s not like I’m ever not at home, like Aven. I don’t have maps to be making or commissions to be filling. I’m always here.” Again, I noticed that strange bitterness in her voice. We had reached the path back to the fork in the road. “You’ll find that the orange door will take you back to HEA. You know your way back to the castle from there, I believe?”

  “I do. Thanks for everything.”

  “Anytime. Goodbye, Lily.”

  “Goodbye,” I called, starting down the path. When I got to the blue door, I went through it. The rain on the other side was not so bad now. I quickly splashed through the puddles to the orange door. Once through it, I knew where I was and would be at HEA in a few minutes. I also realized that Glenni could have sent me here in the first place. After all, HEA is shelter. I had (mistakenly) assumed all the other doors did not lead to places I knew or places that were safe. HEA was both known to me and safe.

  So, why did Glenni send me to Ella’s?

  13

  The Dream

  Calo beat me back to HEA. He sat at his desk, filling out his case report on Morgan. “There you are,” he said, as I came into the cubicle. “I thought you would have made it here before me. Did you have trouble getting back?”

  “Well,” I dropped my bag and sank into my chair. “The bridge washed away, and since the bike was on auto-pilot, it wouldn’t stop, so I had to leap off at the last minute.”

  “By Excalibur,” Calo looked at me. “Are you alright?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I wandered around in the rain for a while then ended up at Cinderella’s.”

  “Cinderella’s? But that’s miles away from Arthur’s, and across the river. Unless…fork in the road?”

  “Yeah. I ran into Glenni at the fork in the road and she sent me there.”

  “But, from that fork, she could have sent you back here.”

  “She didn’t mention that. She only told me the blue door would lead to shelter.”

  “That’s odd.” We were both quiet for a moment, then Calo said, “Well, you just have to fill out the case report on Arthur and you’ll be free for the weekend.”

  “Great.” I took the form from my desk. “Oh, what about my bike?”

  “Hmm. Let me check the map room.” He moved towards the door.

  “You think my bike is in the map room? Aven’s map room?”

  “No, HEA’s map room. And I don’t think your bike will be in there, but I will be able to use the Enchanted Object Locator to find it.” He grabbed the files from our outbox. “It’s a good thing we put it on auto-pilot. You can’t locate unenchanted objects using the map.” He held up the files in his right hand. “Do you need anything delivered or put away?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  “Sure.” Calo walked away.

  I began filling out the case report, which would be filed with the citizen’s other reports and case history. Everything was kept so the same mistake wouldn’t be made twice (hopefully, no new Happiologists will ever ask Morgan why she’s unhappy); the files also provide suggestions for things that do work.

  Hannah, the secretary for our row of cubicles stuck her head around the corner. “Princess, you’ve got a mirror call.” She continued walking.

  “Wait, Hannah! I need directions to the mirrorphone.”

  Two minutes later, I entered a room off the main hallway full of mirrorbooths. Similar to photo booths found in malls and amusement parks, but these booths have actual doors instead of curtains.

  I sat on the seat, across from the mirror. Most of it functioned as an actual mirror. However, along the bottom two inches these words flashed: TOUCH YOUR REFLECTED NOSE TO BEGIN. I smiled and my reflected hand reached out to touch my nose.

  The mirror went black, and green words appeared on it: Thank you for choosing Mirage Mirrorbooths. Please state your full name and any titles you may hold.

  Full name = Lily Elizabeth Sparrow.

  Titles?

  Could they = Princess? Future Protector?

  I decided to say “Princess Lily Elizabeth Sparrow, Future Protector of E. G. Smythe’s Salty Fire Land.”

  The mirror changed again: Welcome, Princess Lily. What would you like to do? Touch the green square next to your choice.

  Near the bottom of the mirror were two choices and two green squares. I could either make a call or pick up a call. I touched the square next to pick up a call. The mirror changed once ag
ain to show Blaire kneeling dangerously on our bathroom sink at home.

  “Hello, Blaire.”

  “Hello, Princess.” She waved. “Hold on.” She hopped off the sink, disappearing from view. After a moment, my mother appeared in the bathroom.

  “Hello, Lily.”

  “Hi, Mom. Did Blaire not need to talk to me?”

  “No. She was holding the line for me. I didn’t know how long it would take for you to get to the booths.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never used them before. I had to ask for directions.”

  Mom smiled. “Are you working late today? I’ve been wondering where you were.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be home soon though. I’ve just got to fill out one case report and then I can go.” After I find my bike, I added mentally.

  “That’s fine, dear. We’re staying in Smythe’s SFL for the weekend, so when you finish work, just portal back over here and grab whatever you need. Also, you should start leaving some things there for weekends. You know, an extra toothbrush and some pajamas, so you won’t have to pack every week.”

  “Okay.” I forced a smile, surprised and confused by this news. They were slowly moving me to Smythe’s SFL. This week it was just a toothbrush. Next week it would be some math books. Then, it would be “Hey, Lily, since most of your stuff is here anyway, why don’t we just bring everything over?”

  “Great, sweetie. We’re eating dinner at the castle. I think I’ll be able to be there, but I’m not sure. I’m waiting for a publisher on the West Coast to get back to me. And I can’t exactly wait in Smythe.” She smiled. “He can only call on non-mirror lines.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Bye, Sweetie.”

  “Bye.” I watched as Mom hung up and the mirror reverted to my reflection, with flashing words at the bottom asking me to touch my nose.

  Nothing about my life is normal. Soon my house at 2317 Marshall Road will just be an address we use to get me registered in school, like those people who rent apartments in nicer neighborhoods so their kids can go to the school for that area. Assuming, of course, I am allowed to continue going to school. After all, I am a princess. Shouldn’t I just have tutors and governesses? Then we’d never have to worry about portaling at all.