Cinderella: Ninja Warrior (19 page)

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Authors: Maureen McGowan

Tags: #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adaptations, #Interactive Adventures

BOOK: Cinderella: Ninja Warrior
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The sparkling pink waves now surrounded Max, as if he were spinning inside a shimmering veil, and just when she thought he’d wear a hole in the flagstones from turning so much, he stopped abruptly and raised both arms in the air.
The waves flowed out from Max and slammed into the walls and ceiling and floor, then rippled back to the room’s center before heading directly for her. She pulled in a breath and braced herself, expecting the usual pain that accompanied her stepmother’s spells. As the energy swirled around her, every hair on her skin rose and tingled.
Tiny sparks—pink and silver and gold—traced their way up and down her arms, her legs, her entire body.
Something slammed into her, and her body tensed. An invisible force tightened around her ribs, but it wasn’t painful; it was more like a giant hug, and in spite of the magical embrace, fear crept through her excitement and amazement. She suddenly became nervous and wondered what Max was doing. What if his spell alterations got all mixed up and
she
turned into a mouse?
The sparks consolidated into a long line, circled her five times, then trailed and swirled back into the wand. Max flicked the wand again, hard, toward the cellar door, and then lowered his arms.
His face was bright red and he bent over, panting.
She ran to his side. “Are you okay?” She rested her hand on his heaving back, resisting the urge to scratch at the gray velvet as if it were fur. “Please tell me you’re going to be okay. I don’t care if I can’t compete. It’s not worth it if it’s going to hurt you.”
Still bent over, he raised his hand and pointed toward the cellar door. A cool breeze blew in, carrying a few dandelion seeds to dance over the stone floor.
She gasped with a breath full of joy and hope.
The door was open.
She clapped her hands and twirled, happier than she’d felt since before her father had died—maybe ever.
“You did it!”
He straightened and smiled, but he looked a little tired. “Can you get me the stool?”
She fetched it and held his arm as he sat. “Careful, Max. It has a wobbly leg.”
“I know. I’ve been living here, too.” After sitting down, he held her hand and guided her to stand squarely in front of him. He examined her dress and squinted his eyes. “Now, about clothes. You’re going to need a gown and slippers for that ball.”
“No.” She shook her head. “There isn’t time. Besides, all I care about is the competition.”
“You should go to the ball, Cinderella. A girl like you deserves a little fun in her life.”
The idea was tempting, especially if she got a chance to see Ty, but she had to focus. “Max, if I don’t get going, I won’t make it to the competition.”
He squeezed her hands. “Okay, then let’s get you something to wear for that.”
She stepped back and he got up to cast another spell. Within moments she was no longer dressed in her rags; she was dressed in a sleek white top and trousers, belted at the waist. She leaned and kicked to one side and then to the other. Perfect. It was similar to a ninja outfit, except white, and offered much freer movement than would have in her skirt—let alone a fancy dress.
Max took her hand. “At midnight, no matter what you’re wearing, you’ll find yourself back in your normal clothes. In fact, at midnight,
everything
goes back the way it was, even—” He stopped himself midsentence and looked down.
“Even what?” There
was
something he wasn’t telling her, maybe some other element to the cost.
“Never you mind,” he said. “Just be back by midnight.”
“I won’t let you down.” Midnight was no problem. It was too bad she couldn’t keep this great outfit to train in, but she had no place to hide it anyway. And as for changing back into rags, as long as these clothes lasted until the competition ended and she caught a few moments with Ty, she would be happy.
Even if her dreams to escape today had been quashed by the need to get home to save Max, as long as she won those lessons, escape would be in her future, somehow. Surely her stepmother couldn’t stop the royal wizard if he wanted to train her.
She picked up the wand and tucked it into a narrow pocket along the chest of the jacket, clearly designed for that purpose. She pressed her hand into her chest, glad to find the locket still there after Max’s spell.
“Are you still determined to compete with the wand?” Max asked.
She nodded, nerves scrambling her confidence. “Yes. I mean, look what you did with it. I know I don’t have your training or experience, but even so, it’s clearly very powerful.” Plus, it did belong to her mother, so it should match her innate powers. She’d ignore the fact that while using it, she’d tipped over the stool, scorched the door, and nearly set fire to her bed. Instead she’d concentrate on how she’d helped to turn a cat back into a man. It was all about confidence.
Max shook his head, but smiled in a way that made her think of her father. No wonder the two had been friends.
“The power of the magic is not in the wand, Cinderella. The power is inside
you
.” He pulled her toward the open door.“Now, let’s talk about your transportation.”
Clutching her wand, Cinderella ran toward the guard standing in front of the competitors’ door to the arena. The horse and carriage Max had miraculously made for her from bits and pieces he’d gathered in the garden had gotten her here fast, but not fast enough. Too bad it was only a one-way ride, but she could easily run home.
Max had wasted too much time trying to talk her out of using the wand. Although still nervous about her decision, she figured she needed all the help she could get. And as the daughter of the wizard who’d owned and trained with this wand, surely she’d be able to harness its power.
“I’d like to enter the magic competition,” she told the guard.
“You’re too late,” he replied coldly, widening his stance. His huge body blocked the entire entranceway.
The chatter of a crowd of young people floated through the dark passageway behind him, beyond which she could see the glow of a brightly lit room, or perhaps it was the sunshine gleaming from the arena floor itself.
Maybe she should duck through his legs? No, that might get her in, but it wouldn’t get her entered, and to win she needed to be officially entered.“I’ve got the application filled out,” she told the guard, and pulled it from the back pocket of her trousers.
“Still too late,” he said.
“Please.” She stepped back and bowed her head slightly in front of the man.“You wouldn’t believe what I went through to get here. Entering this competition is a matter of life or death.”
“Life or death? Yeah, right.” He slanted one side of his mouth up in obvious skepticism.
“Yes. Life or death.” Because clearly she’d die one day at her stepmother’s hands if she couldn’t break free of her spells.
“Listen, lass.” The guard’s face softened at her earnestness, but his stance did not. “Hundreds of pretty young things like yourself want to win a dance with Prince Tiberius, but they showed up on time. Why should I make an exception for you?”
Cinderella bit down on her lip. He had made a good point. She wasn’t anyone special, and asking for exceptional treatment, well, that was just wrong.
Her heart sank. Max had taken such a risk in breaking the entrapment spells for the day, and she’d wasted it. Now she’d have no chance to win the lessons and she certainly couldn’t go to the ball dressed in this outfit. She took a long breath to force out her disappointment. “Is it too late to go in to watch?” She would make the most of it, and maybe learn some new magic by observing.
And even though she couldn’t compete, she had until midnight to get home. Might as well take advantage of her freedom, however short-lived it might be. Ty told her he watched the competition every year, so there was a chance she’d find him inside.
The guard gestured to the right with his head. “Spectators’ entrance is that way. Don’t know if you’ll find an empty seat at this time, but you can give it a go.”
“Thank you.” She curtsied to the guard, and then turned to head for the other entrance.
“Wait a moment there, lass!” the guard called after her.
Cinderella’s heart froze along with her feet, and she slowly turned. He was probably going to tell her she needed money to get in, or wasn’t allowed into the stands with her wand. She should have kept it hidden.
“Here.” He raised his hand and flipped his thumb. A coin floated toward her and she reached out to catch it. A silver coin! She’d seen them, but never touched one before.
“Buy something to eat,” he said. “Looks like you need it.”
Cinderella’s face broke out into a huge smile and warmth filled her chest. Her belly, especially pleased at the man’s generosity, grumbled. “Thank you. You’re very kind. Someday I’ll find a way to repay you.” She had no idea how—after tonight she’d be trapped in the cellar again—but she meant what she said.
“No need.” He smiled and waved her on.“Now get in there and enjoy the show.”
Cinderella walked up the long, winding tunnel into the arena, hearing and feeling the electricity and excitement before she could see anything, and when she burst out into the light, her breath whooshed out of her chest. There were so many people!
Brightly colored banners waved, and cheers rose from the rows upon rows of seats in the round arena that reached up toward the sky like open palms. The vibrant colors were like nothing she’d ever seen, nothing she’d ever even imagined.
And the smells—sweet and spicy and hot—from vendors who milled through the crowds, offering treats that made her mouth water. She quickly selected a sausage on a fresh roll and a mug of spiced pomegranate juice, and after eating her food way too quickly—it was so much better than any of the scraps left on her stepsisters’ plates—she stepped up to a railing and searched the stands below for an empty seat, but found none. She turned to look up. It didn’t look as though she’d have much luck higher up in the stands, either. People were crammed into the seats like pickles in a jar.
Wandering along the circular walkway, halfway up the stands, she searched for an empty seat. She spotted one just behind where she’d bought her food, but then saw it had a purple satin cushion and was much more spacious than the hard stone seats everyone else seemed to have. It had to be reserved for a member of the royal family, perhaps even Prince Tiberius.
She checked over her shoulder to see if she was blocking anyone’s view—there were advantages to being short—and then leaned over the railing to look down to the arena floor. Maybe she could stand here for a while, before one of the guards asked her to find a real seat.
The opening ceremonies were nearly over, and the royal wizard was in the center of the vast arena, dressed in a flowing robe that looked as though it were made of water. It flowed and rippled around him. As he swung his arms, the fabric shimmered in the sunlight, creating the illusion of icicles. Then it changed again, turned white, and thousands of tiny birds flew forth, spiraled up into the air, and evaporated. It was spectacular, but the wizard himself was smaller and younger than Cinderella had expected.
The royal wizard flew up to a chair high above the field. The announcer raised his hands. A hush fell over the crowd.
“It is time for the competition to begin,” the announcer said. “The first event will be for contestants competing without wands.”
Cinderella twirled her wand in her fingers and felt its heat and energy flow through her. What she wouldn’t give to get down on that floor.
A hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped.
It was Ty! She threw her arms around him, but, embarrassed, quickly let go and backed up a few steps. Her heart beat rapidly and her cheeks, she was sure, screamed with redness.
“You came,” he said with a smile. “Aren’t you competing?”
“I couldn’t get here in time.”
Ty was dressed in his messenger uniform again, but this time it didn’t fit well. It was as though he was wearing an entirely different set of clothing. His pants were too short and too wide. He had cinched them at the waist with a beautiful gold cord that didn’t match the rest of his outfit. Once again, his cap covered his curls and shadowed his face.

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