“Rapunzel has generously offered to help me promote the shop.” Father holds up scroll ads for Cobbler Shoes. His hands and nails are stained black from all the polishing he’s done today, and he has black ink on his forehead. He looks tired but happy. He loves coming up with new shoe designs and now, thanks to the princesses, he’s got his prize design back—the glass slipper. Sales for them have been through the roof, and business has never been better. When Jack of All Trades School said I needed an internship, Father jumped at the chance to have me. “The princess says even royals from other lands are asking about Cobbler glass slippers,” he adds.
“I was just at a Royal High Council meeting with Haddingford and Captiva, and all the princesses asked if I had any connections to get a pair,” Rapunzel tells me. “The wait list is almost two months long. I told your father that at this rate, he’s going to need to expand the shop and hire more workers.”
“Can you imagine?” Father asks, his eyes bright as he looks around his small shop, which is bursting at the seams with equipment, boots hanging from every bit of ceiling space and glass-slipper boxes piled high in the corners. “We could open Cobbler Squared, and you and your sister could run it!”
Run my own shoe store? I pale. Most village kids would be lucky to have their parents pass on a successful business, but when I think of shoe polish and leather hides, I don’t get as excited as my brothers do. Suddenly, I can hear the shoe-shaped clock ticking on the wall, and I realize I haven’t responded. “That would be very generous of you, Father.”
The princess looks at me curiously.
“Rapunzel is also putting a shoe ad in the Happily Ever After Scrolls that will be published for the ball,” Father adds as he gets back to work sewing up a large, white leather boot that must be for a troll.
“We have over a hundred royals coming in for the ball later this week,” Rapunzel says proudly. “Princess Ella is working hard to foster better relations with foreign lands.”
“Is Jax going?” I notice I’m playing with my strands of purple hair and stop myself. What am I doing?
“That’s part of the reason why I stopped by today,” Rapunzel says, and I perk up. “I had no idea you didn’t already receive an invitation. The party is this Friday at 7:00 o’clock. I really hope your family will join us.”
She hands me a velvet envelope, and I pull out the scented, pink invitation. I look at Father hopefully. He takes the invitation from me.
“That’s so kind of you, Princess, but truly, you’ve done enough for the Cobblers already,” he says. “We have no time to sew something this week with our workload.”
“I have my gown from the last ball I went to,” I remind him, trying not to sound hopeful. “Only the bottom of the skirt got singed by the wyvern.” Rapunzel smirks.
“What would your sisters or brothers wear, or your mother and me?” Father asks. I think of my family’s simple wardrobe. It’s been updated, but we own nothing fancy enough for a ball. Mother’s gown from the Fairy Tale Reform School affair was ruined after the school caught on fire. “Thank you, Princess, but we will have to decline.”
My heart sinks.
“Next time then,” Rapunzel says kindly, then turns to me. “Jax will be so disappointed. He’s at the tailor’s in the village getting fitted right now, if you want to stop by and say hello.” I look at Father. My shift should have started fifteen minutes ago.
“Go see your friend,” he says with a smile.
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’m back out the door and running down the street, narrowly missing a caramel cake cart. The scent of caramel makes me think of Ollie, and I wonder where he is these days. My last two Pegasus Posts to him have been sent back. Is he still sailing with Blackbeard’s friends? I wouldn’t blame him for not heading home. That kid loves the pirate life. The pirate life and caramel cakes.
I swing around the corner of Boot Way again and see the tops of steaming teakettles and magic carpets flying. Pete, the Dwarf Squad Police Chief, passes by on a tall horse with Olaf, his henchmen, walking alongside him. The two of us nod. We’ve developed an understanding since I got out of FTRS. I don’t bother him. He doesn’t annoy me. I spin around the crowded square looking for Jax and spot a group of finely dressed kids in navy-and-gold uniforms. They’re standing in front of Combing the Sea. I hear high-pitched laughter and see a tall boy with curly, dirty-blond hair is holding court.
“Jax!” I yell, unable to stop myself.
Jax’s violet eyes light up when he sees me. “Gilly!” With a slight bow, he excuses himself from the fancy schmancies and runs over.
The two of us stop feet from each other.
I am the one who finally pulls him in for a hug, remembering too late I’m still wearing my apron and it’s got shoe polish all over it. Crumb cake.
“Sorry!” I try to rub the polish off his RA gold sash.
“No biggie.” Jax points to my head. “But you’ve got some on your forehead.”
I try to rub the mark off but assume it’s still there. Whatever. I see his friends watching, but I ignore them. Jax is my friend too. Actually, he was my friend first.
“Did you talk to Rapunzel?” he asks. “You’ve got to come to the party this week. All these neighboring royals are going to be there. The Little Mermaid borrowed a massive ship for the royal court to use for the party. They want the world to know Enchantasia is a safe place to visit and are hoping the party can do some damage control. They got Patacake BakersMan to make all the food!”
“I can’t go,” I say. There’s no way I’m telling him my family has nothing suitable to wear to a royal party. “We have plans Friday.”
“Plans?” Jax looks disappointed. He adjusts one of the gold buttons on his double-breasted jacket. “What could be more important than attending Enchantasia’s biggest ball?”
“Important things,” I stutter, thinking fast. “Besides, if you really wanted us to go, you should have given us more notice. Madame Cleo says an invite should be handed out four weeks in advance.”
“Unless an ogre invasion or a wicked fairy’s hostile takeover causes invites to go out late,” Jax teases. “Come on, thief! You have to come. We haven’t talked in forever. You never returned my Pegasus Posts about getting resentenced to Fairy Tale Reform School. What do you think?”
At the mention of our former school, a mother walking with her baby holds the child closer and gives us the evil eye.
I shush him. “Most people aren’t trying to get thrown back into reform school.”
“Most people don’t realize how cool that place is.” Jax pushes his curls out of his eyes. “Royal Academy is the exact opposite. It requires you to attend all these royal workshops on topics like princely behavior and how to save a damsel in distress.” He rolls his eyes. “I miss our fun, and I miss you. I’m sorry the invite was late. I would have told you sooner, but this is the first time I’ve been allowed to go to the village since we broke out and caused all that trouble.”
I think of the day we toppled an apple cart, were chased through the village with Pete on our tails, and snuck back to FTRS in a Pegasus carriage. “Good times.”
Jax raises an eyebrow. “Maybe not good, but definitely adventurous times.” The two of us laugh.
“Have you heard from Ollie?” I ask.
“I heard he slipped onto Pete the Cheat’s ship to avoid heading home,” Jax says. “At least that’s what a pirate visiting the manor told me. My posts keep coming back. I’ve heard from Maxine, but Kayla hasn’t written at all.”
“She’s probably having too much fun with Jocelyn,” I grumble.
Jax smirks. “You sound jealous.”
“I’m not jealous!” I scoff. “It’s not like I miss having a fairy roommate that used to work for a villain.”
A fancy schmancy with a bright-pink bow walks over. She’s pulling at her hair. “Hi, Jax.”
&
nbsp; Note to self: Never play with your hair again.
“We have to catch a Pegasus coach back to Royal Academy.” She gives me the once-over, starting at my messy hair and moving to my stained apron and have-seen-better-days lace-up boots. “Are you done talking to this villager so we can get going?”
“Villager?” I snap. “I’ll have you know I saved your pricey behind a few months back—and everyone else’s in this village too.”
The fancy schmancy’s jaw drops, and I practically sneer at her.
“Thanks, Genevieve. I’ll catch the next one,” Jax tells her and steers me away. “Madame Cleo would be very disappointed. Where are your manners?”
“She started it!” I gripe. “Those fancy schmancies and royal wannabes…they’re the ones who give royals a bad name! I was just—”
Kaboom!
A firework goes zooming past our heads, and Jax and I drop to the ground to avoid getting hit. It hits the village clock tower and explodes. The Humpty Dumpty statue on top of the clock topples to the ground and cracks. People scream and run for cover.
Zoom! Zip!
More fireworks fly past us, and people begin diving in all directions. A magic carpet goes skidding into a Rapunzel Hair Care cart and sends shampoo bottles flying. I can see the fireworks shooting out of the roof of Red’s Ready for Anything like it’s Royal Court Commemoration Day. Jax and I spring into action. I direct confused villagers away from the mayhem, while Jax rushes some peddler carts out of the way. A firework hits Pinocchio’s Puppet Theatre, and one of the marionettes in the window is toast.
“How did this happen?” I ask a troll thundering by.
“Someone broke into Red’s storage room and set off all the fireworks at once!” he says. “It blew the roof off! Red had to evacuate!”
“For the love of royals, who would do something that foolish?” Jax asks.
“Maybe someone who wanted to create a distraction so they could pilfer some area shops?” I guess. Jax looks at me. “What? I might have tried something like this once myself.”
“Clear the way! I have the criminals!” Pete cries, and a crowd gathers to see who Pete is marching through town like a prize. “No need to panic, peasants! I have saved the day! These three are headed to FTRS!” People cheer.
“Wow, the third offense for all three? Brutal,” Jax comments as we strain to see who the culprits are. I bet it’s one of Patacake BakersMan’s sons. Or Jack Be Nimble. He’s been known to slip in and out of shops easily with lifted loot. I stand on my tippy-toes to see. I hear a gasp and realize it is my own.
“Anna?” I freak.
Hansel, Gretel, and my baby sister are in cuffs!
Their faces are covered in ash and soot from fireworks powder. Hansel and Gretel look thrilled, but Anna seems frightened. I break through the crowd with Jax behind me and stop in front of Pete’s horse. “There must be some mistake! This is only her first offense!”
“Second!” Pete sneers at us. His horse neighs nervously at the sounds of the fireworks, but Pete grabs the reins tighter. “Her first was helping you and your little friends escape capture that day in the village.” Anna won’t look at me.
Oh right. “Well, it’s only her second then. You have to let her go!”
Pete smiles sickly and lets a scroll unroll in front of us. I recognize the FTRS proclamation. “You get sentenced on your second offense now. The little guy in charge changed the rules.”
“What little guy in charge?” Jax asks.
I grab the bottom of the scroll and look at the signature. “Rumpelstiltskin?”
“Anna Cobbler,” Pete says with satisfaction, “you’ve been sentenced to Fairy Tale Reform School!”
Happily Ever After Scrolls
Brought to you by FairyWeb—Enchantasia’s Number-One News Source!
Change Comes to Fairy Tale Reform School
by Coco Collette
After five years of running the school she founded, Headmistress Flora (the formerly wicked stepmother) is handing over the reins to a new leader: Rumpelstiltskin, HEAS has learned. While the news has come as a shock to some parents and students, Flora assures us the move has been under consideration for a while. “When Alva threatened our borders and children’s safety, Mr. Stiltskin came to our school’s aid, offering us both protection and guidance,” Flora said in a statement through school spokesmirror Miri. “I believe he is the right person to head our school during these changing times, and I’m thankful he is interested in taking on a larger role at FTRS.” The former headmistress will stay on in a new role.
Not much is known about Fairy Tale Reform School’s mysterious new leader. Rumors have long lingered about Rumpelstiltskin’s shady business deals, but no proof has ever been offered about his involvement in the troll-goblin war or the disappearance of several prominent magical creature families. What we do know is that Mr. Stiltskin, as he has asked to be called, has already made changes to the FTRS admittance policy. “Students will now be sentenced on their second offense,” Miri explains. “Mr. Stiltskin does not believe in letting a child’s bad behavior go on too long. He wants them at FTRS as soon as possible.”
Miri added that he will continue to modify this protocol and may even change it to first offenses! Pete, the leader of the Dwarf Police Squad, sees this as a good thing. “Too many hoodlums get away with all sorts of mischief,” he says. “Just today I apprehended notorious troublemakers Hansel and Gretel Sweetums and Anna Cobbler. They could use the hefty dose of reality that Rumpel is giving out at FTRS.”
Mr. Stiltskin has put the school under a protection charm that does not allow unscheduled visits to the school, so few have actually met him. Even his magical background is unknown. Some say he’s a troll. Others a goblin. Miri insists all will be explained once Mr. Stiltskin conducts his own HEAS interview next week. A welcome party thrown by the new leader is also in the works. “Mr. Stiltskin wants everyone to see the groundbreaking changes he has in store,” Miri says.
Let’s hope our royal court receives an invite. It’s no secret that the princesses are not big fans of the well-known trickster and were less than thrilled to hear Headmistress Flora was stepping down. “They are looking forward to having tea with Mr. Stiltskin to hear his vision for FTRS,” says a palace source. As of press time, the princesses made repeated requests to set up a meeting with Mr. Stiltskin and had gotten no response.
CHAPTER 3
This Is Not the Thief You’re Looking for
Never once did I imagine this happening to Anna instead of me.
“Look at this, Gilly! They offer cooking classes now. They didn’t have those when you went here.” Mother is reading a pamphlet called FTRS: Making Magic the Right Way as we fly in a fancy FTRS coach that is being used to usher parents to school to sign over their children. The wax seal on her pamphlet says “Now run by RS.” I assume that’s Rumpelstiltskin.
We fly through a cloud, and the landscape changes to country roads where trolls lumber along and ogres hang from trees looking for villagers to bother. In the distance, I can see the Hollow Woods, looking ominous even in the daylight.
“They even have macting classes now,” Jax says excitedly. “You know, in preschool, I was Knight Number 4 in a macting production of Sleeping Beauty’s story.”
Mother frowns. “The last time I took the children to a macting performance, one of the fairies in the play accidentally cursed an audience member. The man quacks when he coughs to this day.”
I steal the flyer from Jax. The word macting is flashing colors like Madame Cleo’s hair. Below it is a photo of her and Professor Harlow with a group of students. Professor Harlow looks less than thrilled.
“It was gracious of you to come with us this evening, Prince Jaxon,” Mother says.
Jax’s cheeks flush, and I snicker. “Please call me Jax. And you’re most welcome, Mrs. Cobbler. Rapunzel knew
it was important that I help you get Anna released. My sister and the royal court have the ball preparations covered.”
“That’s very kind of you, Jax,” Mother says uncomfortably. “‘And may I just say, we don’t believe that rumor that Princess Rose tried to help Alva take over the kingdom. Such nonsense!” She fans herself with a brochure that says “Mr. Stiltskin has the right ingredients for your child’s success!”
“Rose did make a, er, thorny error in judgment,” Jax tells her. “She’ll be fine, but the princesses have ordered a long rest to help her regroup.”
“But not a long nap, right?” I ask. Sometimes I crack myself up. Mother gives me the evil eye. “I don’t mean any harm! Even if the princess did try to use me as bait.”
“She was under duress,” Mother says, defending Rose, and I snort. She grabs another brochure and her eyes widen. “What’s a Magical Fairy Pets class? It says students are encouraged to care for an orphaned magical animal to learn responsibility. How wonderful!”
“Dear, stop acting so excited.” Father wipes his brow. “No one wants to see their children end up at FTRS.” He looks at me. “No offense.”
“This is all my fault,” I tell them. “Anna’s been acting out at trade school, but with my internship, I just didn’t have the time to police her every move.”
“You are not your sister’s keeper,” Father assures me. “You have set an excellent example since you went to FTRS. Anna’s just gotten in with some rotten apples.”
“Hansel and Gretel are the worst.” I clench my fist. “They’d be foolish enough to try to steal a lollipop from a baby dragon if they had the chance!”
“Sounds like someone I used to know,” Jax says, and I growl at him.
The coach is suddenly engulfed in a golden mist. We stop short in midair, suspended by magic.
“Halt!” a voice thunders. “Fairy Tale Reform School is private property. Trespassers will be dealt with accordingly.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Mother says nervously.