I look to Alec. “I hate that cat.”
“Me, too.”
I slide off the table and hitch my bag over my shoulder. “Let’s do this.” Alec hoists me up so I stand on atop the low railing that separates the balcony from the courtyard beyond. I scan the nearby tree. “I can climb this. You?”
Alec leans forward and nods. “Sure, I hate this tux anyway.”
All of a sudden, Jacoby steps out. “There you are, Elle.” He looks between me—I’m still standing on the balcony ledge—and Alec. “What did I miss?”
“We’re off to find a cat,” I explain. “It’s an early night for me.”
Jacoby leans against the doorframe. “Good of you to let me know.” He has that sneaky elf look in his eyes, though. I’d wonder what he’s really up to, but that’s not a great use of time right now.
We have a Cheshire cat to catch.
The MNN camera guy pushes out onto the balcony. Rosa Langstrom follows behind, microphone in hand. “Great news, viewers. We’ve found the elusive Alec Le Charme out here on the balcony. Alec, what do you have to say to our viewers on the Magicorum News Network?”
Oh, crap. Time to get the hell out of here.
Leaping off the ledge, I grab a tree branch and drop to the ground. Alec lands right beside me. The spotlight of the camera cuts through the night as Rosa calls out. “Alec? Where are you going? Viewers, we’re here at the Autumn Masquerade where Alec Le Charme has run off with a nondescript girl.”
Alec shoots me one his million-watt smiles. “You’re anything but nondescript.”
In the shadows nearby, Chesh clears his throat. “I said, meow.” His outline shows in the moonlight as he takes off for Central Park.
I hoist up my skirts and run. Alec keeps pace beside me.
Here we go.
31
Alec
What happens next is a blur. I recall more impressions than anything else.
There’s a darkened alley.
A well-lit sidewalk.
Some older gent who jumps out of my way.
All the while, Elle stays at my side.
No matter what, both Elle and I stay focused on the striped tail of the Cheshire cat. Just when I think I’m about to pounce and grab him, the feline leaps out of the way. In the rush of running, I catch more quick moments.
Crossing a busy street.
Without a crossing light.
Cars screech to a halt.
A cabbie yells, go back to the prairie, you freaks!
Elle and I end up in Central park. Again. Chesh scales up a particularly large oak. Elle and I stand by the base, our hands braced on our knees, gasping for breath. We’re not alone, either. About fifty white mice encircle the trunk as well. These little ones don’t seem winded at all.
I gesture to our tiny friends. “What” pant pant “is that?”
“My swarm magic,” replies Elle. She sucks in a few deep breaths before going on. “I was sending it out to work on Chesh, but I caught others instead.” Her face brightens with a smile. Makes sense that Elle would try to cast while running. I only wish I could have tried as well. On reflex, I check my pocket.
The midnight diamond is still there.
And it remains unreadable.
Familiar voices echo through the darkened park. “Alec? Alec!!!”
I force myself to stand. “That’s Legend and Diamond.”
Elle pales. “Oh no.” She reaches up toward the branches. “Here, kitty kitty.”
But I already know what she’ll say next.
“Chesh is gone.”
I straighten the lapels of my tux. My parents warned me what would come next if I didn’t play along. Worse trouble. Who knows when I’ll get another chance to tell Elle how I really feel?
Turning, I take Elle’s hands in mine. “No matter what happens, know this. You are my choice. Mine. Nothing and no one can ever change that.”
A pause hangs in the air. I know Elle cares for me. Will she say it?
Elle opens her mouth. Closes it. Her body trembles. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“I know you’re not there with me yet, Elle. And I understand. When you’re ready, I will be here. Believe me.”
My parents step out of the shadows. Legend still wears his tuxedo; Diamond sports silver gown. Legend is the first to speak. “We warned you, Alec.”
“Your Glass Slipper Ball will now take place next weekend,” adds Diamond. My mother rounds on Elle. “You’re not invited.”
Legend loosens his bow tie. “You can go willingly or not, son. It’s your choice.”
A line of wizards step out from the trees. The mice scatter. Smart move. I scan the many new faces. All of them are gem casters, same as my parents. Plus, every last one wears a tuxedo or formal dress. That means they were all attending the Autumn Masquerade as well. They must have chased me here. Wizards aren’t fans of physical activity, as a rule. They’ll be looking for any reason to separate me from my soul.
All of which raises one of my personal battle rules: know when to back off. Now is one of those times. I slap on my most winning smile. “Twenty to one, eh? I’m honored you think me so dangerous.”
“Alec,” says Diamond.
“I’ll go willingly, obviously. On one condition. Elle stays safe.”
Legend nods. “She’s free to go.”
At that moment, Elle presses something onto my palm. I shoot a quick glance at my hand. A small glass slipper rests there. My heart lightens. Elle and I lock gazes while the many wizards surround us. Emotions churn between us.
Longing.
Sorrow.
Worry.
Someone pushes against my back. “Move on.”
“No need to be rude,” I warn.
Legend steps up. “Hands off my son.”
While Legend gets into a staring match with his own wizard, I slip Elle’s glass slipper into my pocket and grasp the midnight diamond once more. Pretending to clear my throat, I pop the gem into my mouth, careful to keep it under my tongue.
I’ve read how mind vise spells work. They won’t ask me to talk anymore. But they will keep me as far away from gemstones as possible.
Hiding my midnight diamond may be my only chance.
32
Elle
Was it only a few minutes ago I was sharing the most epic kiss ever?
Why, yes. Yes, it was.
And now, a horde of wizards march Alec away. I pull on my inner fae power. A small cloud of fairy dust hovers over my palm. I send it out to find Gustav. Sure, the mice ran away when the wizards showed. Still, they wouldn’t have gone far.
The silver mist flies off my hand and into the nearby grasses. Gustav marches out.
“We lost the cat,” says Gustav.
I kneel. This way, I can better chat with Gustav and still keep my voice low. You never know; a rogue wizard may still be lurking nearby.
“I’m not worried about that,” I whisper. “I need you to—”
“On it, Elle.” Gustav takes off in Alec’s direction.
Clever mouse.
Rising, I brush some bits of grass off my skirts. Tonight was a disaster. Even so, I can handle this.
In my heart, the fortress surrounding my emotions grows taller than ever. There’s no room for Alec. I must stay inside, alone, and protect my soul.
All the while, I grip my little bag more tightly. If I’m so strong and solo, why did I give Alec one of my glass slippers?
Well, I did. It’s done now.
Turning, I scan the park, trying to figure out the fastest route to my new apartment and its creepy doll collection.
That’s when I see her.
Marchesa.
She still wears a black dress along with a disgusted look on her face.
“Hello, Elle.”
With a flick of her wrist, Marchesa tosses a small potion bottle to the ground. Green smoke balloons into the air. I try to run, but the spell is too fast. Plumes of emerald-colored magic quickly surrou
nd me.
And everything in my mind turns to black.
33
Elle
When I wake up, my head’s all groggy, like my skull’s filled with cotton candy. And not in a good way, either.
Little by little, I become aware of my surroundings. I lay on a moldy mattress. Condensation drips from the cracked ceiling to make patterns on my prairie dress. Some random water bottle sits nearby.
Memories reappear.
That’s right. I was dressed up as Laura Ingalls Wilder for the Autumn Masquerade. Alec and I ran after the Cheshire cat. That bit was cool. Then Alec got dragged away by his parents and a bunch of gem casters. Thus began the crappy part of the evening.
The room comes into clearer focus. I’m in a bare basement made from concrete. A short flight of stairs is the only way in or out. A thin beam of light peeps out from under a wooden door.
My heart sinks.
I know where this is. Cynder Mercantile. The basement.
The door swings open. Marchesa stands on the threshold. She steps down the stairs. A figure follows behind her. My eyes widen.
It’s a troll.
I learned the hard way how potion masters worked with trolls. So it’s not surprising that Marchesa would have one handy. Even so, this guy is especially large and nasty. He has to move sideways just to step down the stairs. Marchesa pauses before me.
“Comfortable?” she asks.
Some questions don’t deserve answers. Which is why I ignore Marchesa. Instead of replying, I scooch backward until I’m sitting with by back resting against the wall. Then I spend some quality time picking bits of mold off my skirt.
“Missing this?” Marchesa holds up my small bag.
That gets my attention. I glare at her with all the rage that’s inside me. “That’s mine.”
“I’m aware,” says Marchesa smoothly. She makes a great show of opening up the bag, pulling out the glass slipper and holding it up high. Sickly beams of light from the first floor dance through the tiny item. “I remember when Kokkivo fired these. He always had a talent for capturing light inside glass.” Her face creases into a false smile. “Of course, he used your mother’s design.” She drops the slipper to the floor.
Shock churns through my body. I gasp and scan the floor. My slipper! I inspect the nearby ground carefully. The thing got a little chipped, but it looks okay.
“Uh, oh,” says Marchesa. She slams her heel down onto the slipper, smashing it into bits. The crunch of glass cuts through my heart.
“You’re horrible,” I say.
Marchesa’s mouth rounds into a sickly smile. She takes out the pumpkin, drops it to the floor and crushes that one as well. “Oops,” she says.
I lean against the wall once more. Marchesa just wants to upset me. No way will I give her the satisfaction again. Kicking my legs forward, I fold my arms over my chest.
“You never answered my question,” I state. “What do you want?”
Marchesa’s eyes flash with anger. Good. If my sass ticks her off, then that’s what she’ll get.
“Diamond has a soft heart,” says Marchesa. “She insisted that I not hurt you.” My stepmother counts off on her fingers. “No physical attacks. No poisons. No spells.”
I smack my lips. “Are you getting to the point any time soon?”
Marchesa’s body shivers with rage. I consider this progress. “It took me days, but I figured out how to end you while keeping my promises to Diamond.” She opens her arms wide. “Welcome to your tomb. It’s warded to the hilt. No one will come to rescue you.”
I fake-shiver. “Ooh.”
“You’ll die of thirst, here with Grunt to guard you.”
I focus more closely on my new buddy. Turns out, Grunt is a six-foot-tall troll with a tiny round head and skin that’s covered in green lumps. His arms and legs are thick as marble columns. A pair of heavy tusks jut out from his lower lip.
“Guard,” says Grunt. And yes, his voice is definitely in the grunt family of noises.
“Don’t bother begging for mercy,” adds Marchesa. “Grunt won’t care.”
I mime writing in the air. “No begging. Got it.”
“You’re so smug. And you think all the world’s problems are someone else’s fault. All the while, it’s you.”
There’s crap I’ll take from evil stepmothers, and it doesn’t include a crack like that one. “Ho, there. How is it my fault that Mom got cancer and Dad died of a broken heart?” I tap my cheek dramatically. “Could it be perhaps that you’re the one who won’t own her own crap?”
Marchesa raises her fist. “Declan was my true love!”
“You chose to marry someone else. That’s on you.”
Marchesa’s mouth thins to an angry line. “If there’s one consolation for me, it’s that I’ve timed your death to the day Alec gets bonded to my Ivy.”
It’s an effort, but I pretend that statement didn’t hurt like hell. “What do you mean?”
“Diamond and Legend moved the Glass Slipper Ball to this Saturday.” She points to the plastic bottle at the base of my mattress. “You’ve enough water to last until then.”
“Alec won’t choosing Ivy.” I remember his words in Central Park.
When you’re ready, I will be here. Believe me.
Marchesa chuckles. “Really? Haven’t you heard about Legend’s greatest skill?”
A bolt of alarm rolls down my back. Everyone knows the spell Legend created. The mind vise. “He wouldn’t do that to Alec.”
“You’ve no idea what it’s like to lose your one love. Yet. Legend knows.” She pounds her fists against her chest. “I know. And soon, you’ll join the club.” She steps up a few stairs and pauses. “And I haven’t forgotten how you escaped last time.” She reaches into her pocket, pulls out a silver potion vial and tosses it onto the floor.
Grey smoke fills the basement. The scent of charcoal assaults my lungs. When the haze clears, I’m encased in a small steel cage. I grip the bars. Solid.
“That will block your magic,” says Marchesa. “I had it specially designed.”
Closing my eyes, I pull on my inner power. Nothing. As a warden, I’m used to a low simmer of magic coursing through me. Now, I just feel empty.
Marchesa grins, and this time the smile shows off her uneven teeth. “That’s right. No magic for you. And before you start to feel sorry for yourself, take heart. At least you’ll die with your free will intact. No one can say the same for Alec.” Marchesa stomps up the staircase and slams the door behind her.
It’s just me, Grunt, and semi-darkness.
Worry presses in around me. I’ve been in some tight spots, sure. But nothing like this.
34
Alec
I’m asleep and awake, all at once. Is this magic or reality? Legend’s mind vise spells can make it seem like both. I float in dark and empty space, my body curled up for warmth. Voices howl in my head.
No hope.
No escape.
Give in.
The voices don’t say what’s I’m supposed to give in and do. That’s not necessary, though. Legend’s spell doesn’t require a specific action in order to work. Instead, the pressure on my mind will grow worse until I break. Once I’m shattered, the spell will end. Afterward, I’ll look, act, and talk the same. But if Legend ordered it, I’d say the sky is green or leap off a cliff. The voices grow louder.
No hope.
No escape.
Give in.
On reflex, I press my hands against my ears. It doesn’t help. Even so, Legend and Diamond probably think the voices are the most painful part of this spell. They aren’t. What’s worse is that I’ve lost my parents.
Diamond and Legend may love me, but not enough.
Never enough.
There’s only thing left to do. I focus on the midnight diamond that still rests beneath my tongue. Will it speak to me instead? I can only try.
35
Elle
Four Days Later
&nbs
p; My mouth is dry. So dry. I roll over, feeling the bars of my cage press into my side. My water bottle sits before me. I’ve been rationing sips. I can’t give in and drink more too quickly.
Grunt sits against the far wall, his hefty legs kicked out before him. He stood for the first two days solid. Impressive.
In fact, it wasn’t until the morning of day four that Grunt actually sat down. Other than that, the troll doesn’t leave the room for any reason. Every so often, he pulls out a flask of water or a strip of jerky from the leather sack he’s got tried to his waist. That’s it.
I lick my lips, but that only makes them feel more chapped. “So, how does it work for you guys?”
No reply.
Not that I expect one. Grunt never answers. All he does is stare ahead with his all-black eyes. Still, a one-sided conversation is better than silence. So I go on. “Don’t you ever need to hit the bathroom?”
Still nothing.
“Because at some point, you’ll have to go.” I grab my water bottle with both hands. It helps to string out the drinking process for as long as possible. “You live underground, right? That means you must have to hunt and leave no trail, that kind of thing. I’m guessing that nothing leaves a mark like crapping in a cave. Stuff like that would take thousands of years to go away. Didn’t I read something about dinosaur poop getting found in a cavern somewhere? I’m pretty sure I did.”
Grunt doesn’t even blink.
“Back to my theory,” I continue. “If you’re sneaking around underground, I’m guessing you must be able to hold it for weeks at a time.” I unscrew the plastic cap. “Not that I usually spend quality time contemplating bathroom practices of trolls. Still, I’m sure you understand. There’s not much else to do here.”
A small pile of shattered glass and wood lays nearby. Straining through the bars, I try to grab a shard of what’s left of my glass slipper and wooden pumpkin. They’re just out of reach. “Grunt, could you kick me a little of that junk on the floor? Sentimental value, you know.” I’ve only asked the troll this question a hundred and thirty seven times. You never know. Maybe things will change on attempt number one hundred and thirty eight.
Slippers and Thieves Special Edition Page 18