My Fairly Dangerous Godmother

  “It’s only a few pool lengths. You can make it. You must be a good swimmer or the show wouldn’t have chosen you to do that mermaid bit earlier.”

  I sunk downward and kicked harder to keep myself from going under. “The water is freezing, and my gown weighs a ton.”

  Jason dipped his oars in the water, guiding the boat away from me. He looked over his shoulder in the direction the other boats had gone. “You’ll be fine.” Another pass of the oars, this time with more strength. “I’m already way behind the other guys, and I don’t know the way home.”

  “You can’t just—”

  “You’ll be fine,” he called again, picking up speed.

  Jerk.

  Jerk. Jerk. Jerk! I tread water for a moment longer, shivering while I watched the boat recede. “Jason!” I yelled. He had to come back. Had to. But he didn’t. I smacked my hands against the water in aggravation. “Being your date is so overrated!”

  He didn’t answer.

  I tugged at the lacings on my skirt again. My fingers felt stiff and cold. I couldn’t grip the lacings, let alone undo them. Groaning, I turned toward the shore and swam that direction. What other option did I have? I sunk with each stroke. Don’t panic, I told myself. I didn’t need to stay above water the whole time, just once every minute to take a breath. I could push myself to the surface for that.

  Part of me knew I’d never make it. My strength would give out before I reached land. But I was too angry to be afraid yet. I wasn’t going to drown because Prince Not-So-Charming had refused to help me. It was a tacky way to die—dragged to a watery grave due to the lack of zippers in the Renaissance age. I would make it to the shore on determination alone. And then I would never speak to Jason again.

  While I took a breath, a wave sloshed into my face. I coughed and started swimming again. What sort of guy left a girl in a frigid lake? It served him right that he’d be stuck here in the past forever.

  I glanced back to see if I could spot his boat. It had disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving nothing but dark ripples in its wake. The shore didn’t seem any closer though. Was it possible that a current was pulling me the other direction? Did lakes even have currents?

  I thought, ridiculously, that if I’d studied harder in school, I would know those sorts of details. I would know what I was up against. I kicked, pulled numbly at the water. I’d only swam for a few minutes, and my strength was already giving out. I couldn’t last much longer, and the shore was too far away. My throat felt tight, not from lack of air but from fear. Tears pressed at the back of my eyes. My parents would never know what happened to me. I wouldn’t get to tell them goodbye. This was how my life would end. I was going to drown.

  Chapter 17

  Cold, dark water splashed into my face. I struggled against it, coughed some more.

  “You’ll sink unless you take off that dress.” Donovan’s voice came from my side.

  I saw him swimming toward me, the invisibility cloak wrapped around his neck. His head seemed to be floating above his torso.

  “I can’t get it off,” I sputtered. “It took two women to tie me into this thing.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  My legs burned with the effort of keeping afloat. My chin kept dipping below the waterline. I glowered in the direction Jason’s boat had gone. “Jerk.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” Donovan swam behind me to reach my lacings. “I didn’t consider that you were wearing a deathtrap when I pulled you in. Besides, I didn’t think Rockstar Boy would ditch you like that.”

  “Not you. I meant Jason.”

  “Oh.” Donovan felt along the fastenings on my back. I hoped he could figure how to loosen them in the dark. It was my only chance. “You’ve got lousy taste in men,” he said. “Jason’s not worth a concert ticket, let alone a wish.”

  I sunk downward and managed to swallow a mouthful of water before I kicked back up to the surface. I coughed, choking until I could get enough air. Fear rattled around my chest. How much longer could I last? “This is just my luck. I used my last wish to get rid of my mermaid tail, and now I’m going to drown.”

  “No you’re not. Keep kicking.” Donovan’s voice sounded too taut, like he wasn’t confident that what he said was true. He yanked the lacings on skirt, momentarily making them go tighter. “I’m going to save you, and then we’re going to work together to get the goblet.”

  “What?” I glanced over my shoulder. Donovan held a pocketknife and was cutting through the ties. I was so relieved I wanted to cry. Of course Donovan had a knife. Soldiers carried that sort of thing.

  “You saw how well tonight went,” he said. “In order for either of us to get the goblet, we have to work together.”

  He only wanted to team up with me because I could touch the goblet and he couldn’t. Still, it wasn’t wise to argue with someone while he kept you from drowning. I didn’t comment.

  The skirt loosened around my waist and fell away. I felt instantly lighter. The lake had given up part of its grip.

  Donovan moved to the lacings on my bodice. “Don’t be stubborn about this. You need me. Queen Orlaith will watch that goblet like a hawk from now on. You don’t know how to steal things, but I’ve got a plan that will work.”

  More lacings snapped and gave way. “And then what? We leave Jason?” I didn’t like the idea, even though Jason had left me. It was still my fault he was stuck here.

  “No, we force our fairy godmothers to take all three of us back to the right century. They want the goblet badly enough. They’ll do it.”

  The bodice loosened, and I peeled it off. I still wore my chemise and corset, but those weren’t nearly as heavy. “Okay. We’ve got a deal.” I dropped the bodice. It brushed past my legs as it sank, a final silky goodbye.

  Donovan gazed at me and smiled.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Just seeing if your nose grew. It didn’t.”

  I thought about asking Donovan to slice off my corset too, then decided against it. I could swim now and the sooner we got to land the better.

  “Thanks for cutting me free,” I said. “See you at the shore.” Without another word I stroked in that direction.

  Donovan swam beside me the whole way. He was a strong swimmer and could have outpaced me. He kept checking on me, though. Perhaps he had reason. I was tired, cold, and my energy was spent. My arms slapped stiffly into the water. After a few minutes I could barely move them and relied on my legs to propel me forward.

  Finally the shore grew close and my feet touched ground. I dragged myself out of the lake, shivering. My chemise clung awkwardly to me and water streamed down my legs and filled my slippers. Like everything else, they’d been laced on, but they were light enough that I hadn’t kicked them off. Now with rocks crunching underneath my feet, I was glad for them.

  Only one lamp hung on the lamppost, sending out a welcoming halo of light. As we walked toward it, Donovan pulled off his shirt and wrung the water out. I couldn’t help but notice his build. He was all shoulders and hard muscles.

  The wind picked up, and a fresh set of goose bumps lined my skin. Bits of seaweed stuck to me. I didn’t bother wiping them off. As I walked, I wrapped my arms around myself trying to hold onto some warmth. Water still dripped down my legs, leaving dark puddles behind me.

  We reached the lamppost. While Donovan put his shirt back on, I fumbled with the lantern handle. I was shaking too hard to get a good grip and was afraid I would drop it. If I did, we wouldn’t be able to find our way through the forest.

  Donovan saw my trouble and took the lantern. He held it up, scattering light around us. “The trail is this way.”

  He started in that direction and I stumbled after him, arms still wrapped around my torso. “Thank you,” I muttered. With my teeth chattering it sounded more like, “Haiku.”

  I considered repeating the phrase, but my teeth kept chattering, so I decided to let him think I had a sudden interest in poetry.

  Donovan pa
used and held the lamp closer to my face. “I think you’re getting hypothermia. You don’t look good.”

  I didn’t look good? I was soaking wet and dotted with seaweed. “No one looksh good afer being dunked in a la-ake.”

  His gaze went over me, concerned. “Shivering, pale skin, slurring your words. Next is mental confusion. We’d better find a place to start a fire.”

  I watched the water dripping from his clothes and wondered how he planned to do that. “You got waterpoof ma-atches?”

  “Nope. So it’s a good thing we have a lantern. Let’s get out of the wind.”

  Right. The lantern. The lantern used fire, not electricity. Maybe I really was getting hypothermia. I couldn’t think straight anymore. I felt as though my bones had frozen.

  As we walked through the forest, Donovan gathered dried twigs and branches that littered the path. He carried them in his cloak, adding to the pile as we went. He also surveyed the forest floor searching for dead branches. Every once in a while owls let out a warning hoot from somewhere in the forest, warning us not to go near the magic trees.

  I gathered dry branches too. The bark and knobby ends bit into my skin, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was a fire and warmth.

  When we had enough wood, Donovan arranged the kindling in the middle of the path. He lit a twig, and then ignited bits of the pile. I sat and watched him, shivering so badly I was shuddering. Little flames leapt on the tinder, tiny specks against the vast dark forest around us. The heat was just a whisper, a promise. I would have given anything right then for a hot shower or an electric blanket, but no, I couldn’t have those things because I’d used magic to wish for a better life. And now I was a princess. Suddenly the whole situation seemed so ridiculous that I started laughing.

  Donovan lifted his gaze from the fire. “Why are you laughing?”

  “On my eighth birthday,” I said through still chattering teeth, “I had a princess party. Now that I’m actually a princess, I realize Mom got the decorations all wrong. Our house looked nothing like this.”

  Flames kept jumping through the kindling, flickering light into the night. Donovan nodded and put one of the larger chunks of wood on the fire. “Yep. You’ve got hypothermia.”

  “You never see paper plates depicting drenched princesses in their underwear.”

  Donovan sat beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. At first I only felt the chill from his clothes, then the warmth of his skin replaced the cold. I leaned into him.

  My teeth kept knocking against each other. “You never see princess balloons with dark foreboding forests in the background.”

  “You’ll be fine as soon as you warm up.”

  “And if anyone ever tells me they want a fairy tale life, I’m going to laugh.”

  “People say stupid things.”

  “Being a princess totally sucks.”

  Donovan wrapped both arms around me, held me tighter. “You’ll be okay in a few minutes, Tiara Girl.”

  I didn’t say anything else for a while. The heat from the fire had grown, and I tried to soak it in, to hold it inside of me. I wanted it to hurry, to melt my icy bones. Slowly, my shivering subsided. I thought of Donovan having to swim all the way to the fairy ball. He must have been so cold. Pushing him into the lake was such a mean thing to have done, especially since he’d kept me from falling off the stairs earlier.

  “I’m sorry I pushed you off the boat,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

  “Yeah, I bet you’ll think twice about shoving the next guy over if you’re wearing half a ton of fabric.”

  “I meant I’m sorry for both times.”

  “Ah, you’re still delirious.” Donovan didn’t let go of me, and I didn’t move away from him. It was nice sitting with him like this, nice that he wanted to work with me instead of against me. Nice that he was hot—I mean, warm. It was nice to have the warmth of him next to me. And, okay, the hotness thing was nice too.

  Wisps of smoke blew toward us. I didn’t mind. It reminded me of a camping trip my family had taken once. We’d toasted marshmallows over a fire. Mine were soft, gooey, and tasted of smoke and happiness.

  “How come I got hypothermia and you didn’t?”

  I felt him shrug. “You spent your energy keeping from drowning. When you’re exhausted, you can’t fight the cold.”

  “Oh.”

  “And besides, I’m used to the cold. That’s what happens when the city keeps turning off your electricity.”

  I lifted my head to check his expression. He was serious. “Really?”

  Another shrug. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I learned how to take care of myself early on. That’s a good thing.”

  It didn’t seem like a good thing. I laid my head back against his chest. “Don’t your parents have jobs?”

  “My dad took off when I was twelve. Haven’t heard from him since.”

  “I’m sorry.” He’d just told me not to say that, and I chided myself for saying it. “What about your mom?

  “It’s hard to hold down a job when you spend most of your time drinking.”

  My heart broke a little for him then. I didn’t see my parents a lot, but at least I knew they cared about me. They would never drink away their money instead of paying the electric bill. And if they ever couldn’t take care of me, my grandparents would have. “Isn’t there anyone else in your family?”

  “Yeah. My brother, Shane. He’s fourteen.”

  Fourteen. Not old enough to help. “You take care of him?” I knew it was the truth even as I asked the question. “That’s why you need to get home.”

  Donovan didn’t answer right away. When he spoke his voice was low, asking me to understand. “I didn’t start a life of crime for the thrill of it. When you’re a kid, you don’t have a lot of options when it comes to paying the bills.”

  “Sorry,” I said, once again ignoring his instructions not to be. How could I not feel sorry? He’d had such a difficult life. And I’d pushed him into a cold lake. Twice. I gave his hand a squeeze. “We’ll get back. And if your probation officer is angry, I’ll vouch for your story.”

  He didn’t let go of my hand. “My story that I was detained by fairies?”

  “We can come up with something better. My Pinocchio thing ends as soon as I’m done with fairies.” And a good thing too. I had no idea what I’d tell my parents about all of this. If I told them any sort of story that involved magic, they would think I’d had a nervous breakdown.

  Donovan squeezed my hand back, keeping it loosely twined with his. His gaze went over me, soft and considering. Weighing me somehow.

  Then he dropped my hand and moved away to pick up one of the dead branches in our wood pile. I had no idea what he’d been weighing, or what decision he’d come to. Which bothered me. I should have asked Chrissy for mind reading.

  Donovan tossed the branch onto the fire. The yellow and orange flames licked the sides of the wood, making it crackle. He leaned back, his tone business-like. “We need to talk about the goblet. You can’t just take it like you tried tonight. Queen Orlaith will notice it’s missing and search everyone. She’ll catch you. This is what you need to do instead: in the morning, go to the castle goldsmith and give him our drawings of the goblet. Order him to make a duplicate. You can tell him it’s a surprise gift for the king.”

  I shivered and Donovan put his arm back around my shoulders. I laid my head against his chest. I liked the feel of it against my cheek. Strong. Warm.

  “Bring the fake goblet with you tomorrow night,” he continued. “After the queen asks her question, have Jason distract her, and make the switch. She won’t be any the wiser until the next night, and by then we’ll be long gone.”

  In theory this seemed like a safer plan, but I wasn’t sure it would work. “How can I have the goldsmith make a copy that will fool Queen Orlaith? The pictures don’t give specifications. We don’t know the exact height, weight, or diameter.”

  “Most people don’t check things too closel
y. I imagine fairies are the same.”

  It seemed like a lot to hope. Especially now that Queen Orlaith knew someone had tried to steal the goblet. I turned the problem over in my mind, imagining different scenarios. If Donovan let me borrow his cloak, I could use it to steal the goblet. However, when the queen discovered the theft, she would notice I’d disappeared and know who’d taken it. She would undoubtedly take her fury out on Jason. As angry as I was at him, I couldn’t inflict that on him.

  “How big is your cloak?” I asked. “Could it hide more than one person?”

  “I doubt it.” Donovan picked up the cloak and draped half of it over me. It was damp—cold enough that I flinched and leaned closer in to Donovan. He wrapped the rest of the cloak around himself. Our heads both stuck out, visible along with half our torsos. “Nope,” he said and set the cloak on the ground. “But that’s okay. You won’t need to be invisible to make the switch. You just need to wait until she isn’t looking.”

  Another idea occurred to me. “Rosamund has sleeping powder. We could find it and slip some into the queen’s drink. If she passes out, we’ll be able to take the goblet.”

  “Or Kailen will know someone has drugged his mother, and he’ll turn every mortal there into a lawn ornament. He seems like the strike first, ask questions later sort of guy.”

  Donovan had a point, but I still worried his plan wouldn’t work. “If Queen Orlaith even glances at the fake goblet, she’ll know it’s not the same one.”

  “You’d be surprised. People see what they expect to see.”

  “Most people would notice.”

  “Trust me on this one. I’ve gotten by for years because I know how to fool people.”

  The fire crackled, spitting out sparks that dimmed and blackened as they fell. “Maybe you’re just used to being around . . .” drunk people. Only I didn’t want to say that. “People who aren’t very observant.”

  “You mean like you and the other Tiara Girls?” He shifted his arm so he could see me better. “Have you figured out how I got rid of my drugged cider?”

  I hadn’t, even though I’d replayed the scene in my mind several times. Donovan’s cup was empty, and yet he hadn’t sat by a planter or any place he could have dumped the contents—not without leaving telltale damp spots.