Microsoft Word - Cinder-Marie_Sexton.doc (4 page)

recognizable, but done halfheartedly as we talked. This one, though, he'd clearly spent time on. It was a fish. Only a fish, no longer than my little finger, and yet it was beautiful. Its body curved, as if it were leaping from the rapids. Its tail was as delicate as lace. Its tiny scales were perfect.

I cupped it in my hands, and I let my tears fall.

There was nobody to see me. There was nobody to know. I sank to the ground, curled against the log, and I cried.

He was my only friend, and he was gone.

I cried as the sun finally sank below the horizon. I cried until I fell asleep.

* * * *

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I woke to the low drone of cicadas. The western

edge of the sky was still brushed with pink. The moon was beginning to rise. I hadn't been asleep long.

It took me a moment to take stock. I was in the

clearing. Xavier was gone.

Behind me, somebody cleared their throat.

I turned around, hoping to see the prince. Instead, I found a woman sitting on the fallen log. Her body was covered in a gray shroud that was little more than a rag. I'd never seen her, but there was only person she could be—

the witch.

"He waited a long time," she said. Her voice was scratchy and harsh, as if she smoked incessantly, although I saw no pipe in her hands. "He paced and fretted, but at last he went away."

She was hard to look at. Or, more specifically, she was hard to see. It was as if my eyes refused to focus on her. One minute, she seemed young as a maid. The next, she was older than Deidre. In the span of a few seconds, she seemed to be anywhere from twenty to ancient. Her hair, too, seemed to change from one moment to the next, sometimes appearing blond and brilliant, others looking gray and ratted. It might have been a dream, but the dampness of the ground I sat on and the kink in my neck told me otherwise.

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"No fish for me today, boy?"

I cleared my throat and made myself speak. "No."

She laughed. Her voice may have been rough, but

her laugh was melodic. Her voice spoke of age, but her laughter of youth. "I was growing weary of it anyway."

I looked down at the wooden fish in my hand. I

stroked its arching back. "I think I'm done fishing for a while." I wasn't sure I could bear to go without Xavier to keep me company.

"And what about that trinket you hold? I'd like to have it. I was looking forward to adding to my collection."

I closed my hand around protectively around the

carving. "This one is for me."

"What's it worth to you?"

"It's all I have of him," I said, my voice quiet.

"Please don't take it from me."

"What if I could give you something better in exchange?"

"You can't."

"Ah, so little faith." Her tone was chiding, but when I looked up at her, her eyes were kind. She smiled at me. At the moment, she seemed to be a woman just past the bloom of her youth, still regal and beautiful, but with the wisdom of accumulated years. "Tell me, young Eldon, what would you ask of me?"

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Her words reminded me of Xavier and the day we'd

met. I remembered so clearly the way he'd smiled at me as he'd said the words.
Go on
.
Tell me what you'd ask for
.

Back then, I had asked for my parents, but that

wasn't the desire that now ruled my heart. "I'd ask to see him one more time."

"Just to see him?" she asked. "Would catching a glimpse of him be enough?"

I shook my head, looking again at the wooden fish tucked into my hand. "To speak to him," I said. "To say goodbye."

"Most people want the world. Most would ask for wealth, or true love. Any girl in the kingdom right now would ask to be his bride."

Of course they would, but I wasn't one of them. I was just a servant who'd gone fishing on the right day and been befriended by a prince. I'd already had more of him than I could ever have hoped.

"I only want to say goodbye."

She was silent. When I looked up at her, she'd

changed again. She was older now, although still not
old
. A middle-aged widow with a touch of gray in her hair and eyes. "Would you like to go to the ball?"

"Only women are allowed in."

"Minor detail," she said. "Would you like to go?"

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I thought about what she was hinting at. Would she sneak me in as a servant or a coachman? "Would I be able to see him? To speak with him?"

"Every maiden is guaranteed a dance."

"Every
maiden
?" The full impact of what she was implying finally hit me. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. "You'd make me a woman?"

"Is there any other way?"

Whether there was or not, I didn't know, but I knew I had no desire to be female.

"Don't worry," she said, as if reading my mind.

"The spell will only last one night."

One night. One spell. One dance. And in exchange?

I looked down at the wooden fish clutched tight in my hand.

"Deal."

I didn't allow myself to hesitate when she held out her hand for the fish. I handed it over, telling myself it would be worth it.

I
hoped
it would be worth it.

"Give me your hands," she said.

I did as instructed. Her fingers on mine felt dry and cool. Her hands felt fragile.

"Brace yourself," she said.

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"Will it hurt?"

She smiled. "No. But you may find it

disconcerting."

And then, she cast her spell.

I wasn't sure what I expected. Magic wands and

chanting? Maybe a song and a shower of stars? The witch's spell included none of that. She closed her eyes. She continued to hold my hands. Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. She swayed a bit on her feet.

I felt the magic begin. It started as a warm, tingling sensation in my hands. The magic moved from my

fingertips to my wrist and as it did, I felt the changes it left behind. My hands were shrinking!

The warmth continued up my arms, and I watched

as my body changed. My wrists became thin and delicate.

The hair on my forearms seemed to withdraw into my flesh. My skin became smooth and pale.

The magic reached my torso and spread up my neck

and down my spine. My shoulders narrowed. There was a tightening in my scalp, as if somebody were gently pulling my hair. I felt my facial structure shift slightly. My ribcage seemed to shrink. My hips widened. The strangest

sensation of all came next—the feeling of my center of gravity falling from somewhere above my navel to a spot between my hipbones. It felt as if the ground had suddenly
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risen up to meet me, and yet, I also felt taller. I looked at the witch, who was still swaying with her eyes closed. She was still the same height in relation to me. I hadn't actually grown at all.

Along with the changes to my body came a change

to my attire. My worn and tattered clothes were gone. The tightness of a well-laced corset constricted my ribcage, limiting my air. I now wore a flowing, satin gown. It was light green with a long, heavy skirt and a plunging neckline. I blushed as I looked down at the cleavage it revealed.

My
cleavage!

I was shaken by a sudden sense of vertigo. I closed my eyes and attempted to take a deep breath to calm myself, but the corset prevented me from getting the oxygen my brain screamed for. The witch's grip on my hands tightened. I opened my eyes. My vision seemed a bit spotty, but I could see her, watching me. She looked older now, her face drawn and wrinkled.

"It's done," she said.

I sat down on the log and took several slow breaths.

I couldn't breathe deep, but I forced myself to inhale and exhale until my vision cleared.

"How long will it last?" I asked.

"Until just before dawn."

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It was only now just past sunset. I had plenty of time.

I took stock of myself. Now that the magic had

finished, this body didn't feel so different from my own.

The most notable difference was the tightness of the corset and the itchiness of the lace petticoats underneath my dress.

I now had long, chestnut hair. Strands of it tickled my bare shoulders.

"You look like your mother," she said.

"Really?" I barely remembered what my mother looked like. I wished I had a mirror. I instinctively reached up to touch my face as if that would allow me to see her.

My cheek was definitely not my own. It was smooth, with no hint of stubble.

"Don't let your aunt see you. Anybody else will likely mistake you for your cousins, but your aunt will think she's seen a ghost."

Of course. I hadn't thought of that. Aunt Cecile and my mother had been twins. And now her girls were twins, and I apparently looked a lot like them. "What about Jessalyn and Penelope?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Their mother is too far past her youth for them to see your resemblance to her, and they're too caught up in themselves to notice your resemblance to them."

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It was strange, knowing I wore my mother's body.

Somehow comforting and disturbing, all at the same time. I looked down at my hands. I had long, delicate fingers. I wiggled my toes. There was something strange about my feet. I lifted my skirt a bit to peek down.

My clothes had changed, but not my shoes. I still wore my worn work boots, except now they were two sizes too big.

"Oh," the witch said in surprise. "I forgot the shoes."

I pulled my feet out of my boots and examined

them. The shape of my toes was familiar, and yet the daintiness of my bones was not. My heel was narrower, and the gentle curve of my ankle was decidedly not masculine.

I was so busy examining my feet, I didn't see the shoes until she held them out to me. They were like no shoes I'd ever seen. They had two-inch heels, and the rest of them seemed to be made of nothing but thin straps of delicate lace. I was sure as soon as I took a step in them, they'd fall apart. They seemed entirely too small, but when I slid my foot inside of them, I found they fit perfectly.

"Stand up," she said.

I did, although I wobbled. The heels weren't

outrageously high, but they were certainly higher than any I'd ever tried to walk in. They seemed determined to sink 37

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into the soft ground. It was hard to balance. I had to put my weight on the balls of my feet, which meant thrusting my shoulders back. All in all, it was anything but graceful.

The witch watched me, her lips pursing into a

thoughtful frown. Wrinkles seemed to bloom around her eyes.

When I finally had my balance, she said, "Let's see you walk."

The first few steps felt ridiculously clumsy, but after that, I felt I had the hang of it: shoulders back, weight on the balls of my feet, trying to keep my torso rigid and still so as not to lose my balance. I thought I was doing well until I heard her groan.

"What's wrong?" I asked, turning to look at her.

"You look like a great lumbering oaf! Is that the best you can do?"

"It's not every day somebody turns me into a woman, you know!"

"Plodding, clumsy men!" she said in exasperation.

"You'll be the laughing stock of the ball!"

"It's not my fault!"

She shook her head and sighed. "This will take more magic than I thought."

I thought of the fish Xavier had left for me, now tucked somewhere inside her robes. "I have nothing else to
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give you."

"I'll fix it," she said. "Leaving you this way would be a waste of a perfectly good spell."

She took my hands, and once again, I felt the magic spread up my arms and over my body. This time, there was no visible change, but I felt a shift in my body. I couldn't have said what it was exactly—just a subtle change in my posture, as if I were settling into familiar chair.

"Now let me see you walk."

It was the strangest thing I'd ever experienced. It was like walking though water, except of course there was only air. My brain would tell my body what to do, but somewhere between it and my limbs, something intercepted the message. Something translated the signals into a new language. When I moved, there was a gentle resistance against my limbs which seemed to smooth my movements.

There was a new knowledge seated somewhere in my

subconscious which told me to put my shoulders back, to arch the small of my back a bit, to let my hips move as I walked in order to accommodate my lower center of gravity.

This time when I walked, I felt graceful. Even

having to adjust for the soft forest floor, I was able to walk the length of the meadow and back without stumbling.

"It's amazing!" I said, feeling excited and giddy.

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The witch's expression was solemn.

"This spell is more complicated. It won't last as long."

"How long?"

She pulled a watch on a thin silver chain out of her pocket and checked it. "You'll have until midnight."

Midnight
.

Suddenly my enchanted evening had been reduced

to only a few short hours. What had felt like hope now became something sad and ominous. "That's not much time," I said.

"It's not," she admitted. "I suggest you get going."

* * * *

The horse cart and rickshaw drivers were out in

force, happy to convey anxious young women to the ball in exchange for a few coins. The witch was kind enough to provide me with fare, and in no time at all, I found myself climbing the stairs to the castle.