Gillian screwed up her face in thought. Roger chewed his bottom lip.
“Do you think it’s valuable?” Gillian asked doubtfully.
“No, but I’ll bet it’s magic,” I said, remembering how easily she’d spotted the talisman.
At that, their eyes lit up.
“She’s locked up in that asylum,” Roger pointed out.
“Do you think she still has it?” Gillian asked.
“She did when they took her away,” I said. “So it’s probably there with her.”
“For now,” Roger said.
“For now,” Gillian agreed.
“But not for long,” I said, rubbing the engraving on my locket.
The magic flared under my thumb. Magnificent Wray had gone to a lot of trouble to conceal that drawer. He’d made hiding spots for the locket, the crystal, and the magnifying glass for a reason. Had they all been in there to begin with? If so, who’d taken them out? And when? And why?
Maybe I just needed to collect them together again.
One thing I was certain of: he’d had a purpose in creating them, whatever it might be. And whatever that was would be his legacy. And my true inheritance.
I intended to find out what it was, even if I had to break Cherice out of that asylum.
* * *
—
Birds sang outside the open kitchen window. A beautiful spring day beckoned. The white stones of the Star Castle sparkled in the bright light. A ghostly starburst glimmered on the wall beside me. My locket gleamed on my crisp white apron front. My new sky-blue cotton Queen’s Girl’s dress rustled as I sliced the peel off my nine millionth potato—Marci’s idea of a suitable punishment.
“It’s generous of you to offer to help, Darling,” the Soup Chef said. “After the recent furor, the Kitchen Maids are frazzled. And supper must still be served.”
“I’m happy to help,” I said, tossing the potato into a basket.
The Soup Chef pursed his lips as if he didn’t believe me. The other Girls were enjoying a day in the gardens.
But it was true; saving the castle was worth a few potatoes.
In 1973, I came home from school to find a letter in my mailbox—from Madeleine L’Engle! At the time, I felt lost in the cold, lonely world of junior high, sort of like I was living on the dark side of the moon. But Madeleine answered my rather impertinent questions as though she were speaking to a fellow writer. Her words were warm and personal, and that letter meant more to me than I can say. She inspired me to keep writing. I’ve endeavored to pay that forward to other writers.
In some ways, writing is a lot like a chain letter. You send it to five of your friends, who send it to their friends, who send it to theirs. And on and on. A good book gets passed around. People tell me about their favorite book, the one they’ve never forgotten. It might be an old book, something few people bought, but it meant something special to them. Writing is personal, and so are books.
Thank you to everyone who has taken my books personally, from booklovers and bloggers to librarians and booksellers. Thank you to every student who has written to me, whether by email or snail mail. I read your letters. I relish every word. And I do my best to respond. Parents and teachers, thank you as well; I read your notes just as thoughtfully.
Thank you to my editor, Diane Landolf, who pushes me to write better novels. And to everyone at Random House who labors over my books, from copyeditors to book designers, typesetters, publicity, marketing, and foreign rights: thank you so much!
Thank you to my agent, Sara Crowe, for her continuing support and enthusiasm.
Thank you to my family: Jon, Sara, and Rebecca. My critique partners, Rachel Martin and Kaye Bair. The Ames group: Ann Green, Kate Sharp, Christine Robinson, and Jane Metcalf, for all your wit and insight; and especially to Sarvinder Naberhaus, for making me think deeper. My friend Faye Wade. And to my great-nephew and great-nieces: yes, you are getting books for Christmas! Count on it. Because books are personal.
And thanks to God for creating words and enduing them with power.
Darling Dimple: Under-scrubber, Under-presser, Under-assistant to the Wardrobe Mistress, Dress Warrior and Dragon-Thwarter, secret weapon of Princess Mariposa
Princess Mariposa Celesta Regina Valentina: butterfly-loving ruler of Eliora
Jane: Under-slicer and later Picker, Darling’s very nearsighted adoptive mother
Marsdon: Head Steward, mustached overseer of the castle servants
Cherice: Wardrobe Mistress, scheming inheritance-hunter who claims to be the last Wray
Lindy: Head Presser, Darling’s lovestruck boss
Gillian: Under-dryer, later Under-presser, enamored of stories
Roger: Second Stable Boy, later First Stable Boy, freckled wonder of the world
Marci: Supreme Scrubstress, later Wardrobe Mistress, Darling’s nemesis and champion
Francesca Pepperwhistle: Head Girl, Darling’s contender for the Princess’s approval
Lyric: canary, magical bird that once belonged to Queen Candace
Iago: Darling’s mouse friend, father to Bonbon, Éclair, Flan, and Anise
Dragons on the Roof: pair of creatures too vile to describe
The Dresses: one hundred in number, bursting at the seams with magic
Lady Teresa: Princess Mariposa’s shy cousin
Prince Sterling: seemingly impoverished prince who comes to woo the Princess
Prince Baltazar (Dudley): charming imposter
Queen Candace and King Richard: Princess Mariposa’s late grandparents
Mrs. Irene Pepperwhistle: Head Housekeeper, soft-spoken, rules the Upper-servants with a knee-melting gaze
Charlotte: Head Cook, good-natured monarch of the kitchens
Pastry Chef: believes food can cure all ills
Bryce: Captain of the Guards, Lindy’s not-so-secret boyfriend
gryphon: sarcastic monster, formerly part of the tower masonry
Lady Kaye, Baroness Azure: wealthiest peer in the realm, never without an opinion
Selma: Head Laundress, Lindy’s feisty archrival
Warden Graves: caretaker of the Royal Cemetery, never speaks ill of the dead
Magnificent Wray: architect, Darling’s ancestor, and the man behind the magic
Dulcie: Princess’s Girl, the fastest Girl, believes that petticoats slow her down
Ann and Kate: Princess’s Girls, the oldest and the tallest, respectively
Master Varick: Royal Librarian, guardian of the King’s library, despises children
Lady Sara Mallory: reader
Marie: Princess Mariposa’s confidant and friend to the Princess’s late mother, Queen Paloma
Lady Amber DeVere: Magnificent Wray’s daughter and the author of his biography
Rose: Head Seamstress, owes Darling a favor
Madame Zerlina Trinket: Royal Dress Designer, exuberant fashion maven
Gloria: Princess’s Girl, hides peppermints in her pillowcase
Derek Pepperwhistle: Stable Master, strict with Stable Boys, easy on horses, not readily fooled
Faustine Pepperwhistle: Francesca’s twin, formerly a Princess’s Girl
Aster: Lady Kaye’s personal Maid, has a high opinion of herself
One Hundred: Queen Candace’s wedding gown, mysterious prima donna of the 100 Dresses
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The Starlight Slippers Page 22