Cinderella: Ninja Warrior (14 page)
Read Cinderella: Ninja Warrior Online
Authors: Maureen McGowan
Tags: #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adaptations, #Interactive Adventures
To find out, turn to section 4: Unexpected Assistance (page 107).
Section 4
UNEXPECTED ASSISTANCE
4
C
inderella’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. She never—ever—should have mentioned the magic competition. Now her stepmother had purchased magic wands for both Agatha and Gwendolyn, and the pair planned to enter to up their chances of impressing the prince.
inderella’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. She never—ever—should have mentioned the magic competition. Now her stepmother had purchased magic wands for both Agatha and Gwendolyn, and the pair planned to enter to up their chances of impressing the prince.
“Let me try again.” Gwendolyn pushed Agatha aside and raised her wand, a beautiful instrument handcrafted from ash. Gwen pointed it at a melon balanced on the edge of the foyer table, and the large fruit exploded, spraying seeds and flesh all over the table and floor.
Agatha clapped and squealed, “Great job, Gwen! You almost had it that time.”
Cinderella crossed her arms and slumped against the paneled wall. Not only did she have to witness her stepsisters practicing magic and see the fabulous wands their mother had purchased, but she was the one who’d have to clean up this mess. It simply wasn’t fair.
And as used to unfairness as Cinderella had become, now that she’d had a taste of life outside the confines of her prisonlike house, now that she’d learned lessons with the royal wizard were on the line, now that she’d met Ty, she’d uncovered entirely new depths to unfairness.
She couldn’t lose hope, though. Since her trip to the village, she’d spent more time thinking of escape ideas than she had all of last year. But so far she hadn’t come up with a plan that would actually work. She needed a real solution.
If only she had a wand, perhaps she could take her fledgling magic skills to the pro level. There was only so much magic one could do with one’s mind. Maybe she could sneak into one of her stepsisters’ rooms the next time they went to the village and borrow a wand.
She silently scolded herself for the thought.
Agatha raised her wand, pointed it at a melon, and the orb rose a few inches off the table. Cinderella was shocked at the concentration and determination in her stepsister’s face as she raised it higher.
Gwendolyn coughed loudly, Agatha blinked, and the melon fell, smashing onto the inlaid wood floor, creating yet another mess for Cinderella to clean up.
Her stepmother appeared in the doorway. “Well done, girls, well done. At least someone in this family has some aptitude for magic.” She cast a sneer at Cinderella, then turned to her daughters and added, “Now go get yourselves bathed. You need to try on your gowns again.”
Her stepsisters looked at each other, grinned with glee, and Agatha clapped excitedly, like a toddler. “Just imagine if he picks me!”
“He won’t. He’ll pick me,” said Gwendolyn, pushing Agatha aside as they raced up the stairs.
Her stepmother turned toward Cinderella. “What are you waiting for, you lazy girl? Clean this mess up at once.”
“Might be easier if I had a wand,” Cinderella muttered.
“What?” Her stepmother straightened her back, glared at Cinderella, and it seemed to Cinderella as if the woman had grown at least another four inches. She towered over her like a mountain of rocks about to tumble down.
“Nothing.” Cinderella picked up some of the pieces of melon rind.
“You ungrateful brat.”
Cinderella’s hands stung, and she dropped the melon rinds. It felt as if the juice were suddenly laced with acid. She rubbed the burning juice onto her apron, and was relieved when it didn’t eat away at the cloth.
Against Cinderella’s will, her hands flew up above her head, and then her entire body was lifted and slammed high up on the foyer’s paneled wall, nearly level with the second-floor landing. Cinderella was at the same height as the chandelier—the one she had to use pulleys to lower about twenty feet once a week so that it could be polished.
Her stepmother stood below, pointing her wand menacingly. Cinderella had seen plenty of rage on the woman’s face, but nothing compared to this. Her features were twisted and distorted so that she looked more monster than human.
“After what your father did, how dare you mention that wand!”
Cinderella’s insides trembled in fear. “What wand?” Her voice felt strained, but she took pride that it didn’t waver.
Her stepmother’s eyes narrowed.“You know very well the wand I am talking about. Your father stole a wand that was mine.”
“My father was not a thief.” Cinderella tried to pull one arm off the wall, but it was no use; it was as if her limbs had been cemented there.
“Oh, but he was. And a con artist of the worst kind, too.” Looking up at Cinderella, her stepmother paced around the foyer, her forest-green skirts swishing on the floor. “He had no use for that wand. No magic at all. After we married, by rights it was mine. He tricked me into marrying him and then stole what belonged to me.”
“There’s no way my father would use any sort of magic to trick you into marrying him.”
“He didn’t cast spells, you idiot girl. He used your mother’s wand to lure me into marriage, and then refused to hand it over.”
“He wouldn’t do that.” Cinderella kept her voice calm.
“The man deserved to die.” Her stepmother shot a bolt of energy at the opposite wall, and the portrait of Cinderella’s father fell and crashed into the floor.
Cinderella’s heart squeezed and she slipped a few inches down the wall. She forced herself to ignore her emotions so she could concentrate on struggling against the spell while her stepmother was distracted. She slipped another few inches.
Her stepmother spun, pointed her wand straight at Cinderella, and her eyes flashed with red sparks.
Cinderella felt a sting, then a churning in her belly. Her stepmother’s magic was getting stronger, and she was becoming more vicious. Never before had she hurt Cinderella internally.
“You do know where it is, don’t you?” her stepmother screamed.
“I didn’t even know my mother had a magic wand,” Cinderella said, forcing the lie from her lips.“How could I possibly know where it would be hidden?”
She felt her throat start to close, as if huge, invisible hands were wrapped around her neck.
This was it. Her stepmother had gone completely mad and was going to kill her. Cinderella closed her eyes and summoned every ounce of concentration she had. Using her mind, she lifted one of the melons off the railing and braced herself, gathering the power to hurl it at her stepmother’s head.
Max meowed loudly and Cinderella opened her eyes. He leaped at her stepmother and slammed into her arm, breaking the hold that the wand held over Cinderella.
Cinderella slipped down to the floor, reacting instinctively and landing in a controlled ninja crouch. The melon smashed onto the ground.
Her stepmother flung Max off her arm and fine red lines appeared on her neck where he’d scratched her. She raised her wand again.
“Run, Max!” Cinderella shouted as she flung herself forward to block whatever heinous spell her stepmother was aiming at her defenseless cat. But she didn’t get there in time, and her heart nearly stopped when she heard a loud crack and smelled smoke.
She spun toward the smoldering door to the sitting room.
No, please. Please let Max have escaped in time.
No, please. Please let Max have escaped in time.
Cinderella ran toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Cinderella spun around and stared into her stepmother’s evil face. “He’s just a poor, innocent cat! How could you be so cruel?” Hot tears of anger rose in the backs of her eyes. “Do what you want to me, but don’t hurt my cat. I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t know where the wand is, and even if I did, do you think I’d give it to you now?” If she found it, she’d use it to break free.
Her stepmother narrowed her eyes, then strode from the foyer. Cinderella let out a long breath, realizing she’d escaped further punishment for the moment. Max, seemingly unscathed, peeked around the corner. Hope inched its way back into her heart as she formed a new plan for escape. She had to find her mother’s wand, and find it tonight.
That afternoon, her stepmother and stepsisters went to a tea party to strategize with other girls who hoped to dance with the prince the next night. Their absence gave Cinderella her first chance to properly search the house.
Grunting as she finished pushing Gwendolyn’s bedroom armoire back against the wall, Cinderella slumped to the floor of the room that had been hers as a child. She’d failed to locate a secret compartment or a lost piece of baseboard behind the huge piece of furniture, and was running out of possible hiding places to check for the wand.
She hadn’t bothered searching her stepmother’s room. The armoire and a chest of drawers in there, which had once been her parents’, were sealed shut by magic in the same way the books in the library couldn’t be moved, but it was unlikely her father would have hidden the wand there, anyway. Not if, as Cinderella now hoped, he’d hid it from his new wife.
The gong sounded to signal that someone was at the door, and Cinderella brushed her stray hairs out of her face. Deliveries typically went to the side entrance, where the cook could receive them directly into the main kitchen. A guest at the front door was most unusual. And now there had been two in one week.
The gong sounded again and she stepped out into the long hall that led to the stairs down to the foyer and front door. It sounded a third time. Apparently the visitor wasn’t one to give up.
She shrugged. There were no more hiding spots here to search, anyway. She cartwheeled down the hall, performed a twisting back somersault, and landed on the post at the corner of the banister leading down to the foyer. Stepping onto the highly polished, sloping beam of wood, she put her arms out for balance and slid down the banister, one foot in front of the other. When she reached the landing, she leaped off the next post, somersaulted and twisted, pushed her feet off the opposite wall, and then landed on the next section of banister in a perfect handstand.
Carefully maintaining her balance, she walked on her hands down the sloping bar of wood to the next post and then pushed off to the side to land on the final flight of stairs.
And from behind her, she heard vigorous clapping.
She snapped her head around and spotted Ty standing in the foyer, dressed once again in the royal messenger uniform. He removed his plumed velvet cap and bowed.
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