The Cinderella Theorem (26 page)

We
stepped out of a cave, and Levi led me to a carriage. It was completely black,
the driver was dressed in all black, and the horses were also colored with a
touch of ebony.
Touch of ebony?!
I was turning into my mother! I quickly
made a comparison of the two blacks and determined the black of the carriage
was darker than the black of the horses. At least I can still do math. I
started reciting squares to steady my nerves. (
Steady my nerves!
)

My
malaise (!) was so distracting that I absently took Levi’s offered hand as he
helped me into the carriage. Its greasiness brought me crashing back to reality.
“Am I turning into a fairy tale?”

Levi
looked at me curiously, knocked twice on the ceiling to tell the driver to start,
and asked, “What do you mean?”

I
sighed, exasperated, “I don’t know. My vocabulary is changing, my posture is
straighter, and I’m acting rather regally.” My hand shot to my mouth. “You
see!?
Rather regally!
I don’t talk like that!”

Levi
stroked his chin. “You must have activated the quest clause.”

“What
quest clause?”

“Clause
981 of the Smythian Code of Laws:
If a citizen endeavors to complete a
quest, but is lacking in some way, whatever he or she lacks will be magically
endowed upon him or her.
”

“I
understood all of that,” I whispered. “It was full of jargon and was clearly
not written in the best possible way, and yet, I got it.”

“Precisely,”
Levi nodded. “You are embarking on a quest–futile, though it is–to save someone,
aren’t you?”

I
nodded slowly.

“So
the magic of your disgustingly happy Salt Land has enacted the quest clause.
This is the sort of thing that is sure to be made into a legendary tale–not of
victory, of course. It will be a lament for the lost princess. But, the main
character can’t run around with sloppy, unprincessly posture, saying things such
as, ‘It was like SO totally awesome, you know?’” Levi imitated what Corrie
referred to as “people who waste oxygen in the tomes of history.”

“I
have
never
spoken like that.”

Levi
laughed, “But neither do you sound as you should.”

I
rolled my eyes. “How do you come to know so much about Smythian law?” I
regretted my question as soon as I asked it. I already knew the answer. Levi
knew about the law because he had once been a citizen, a Happiologist.

He
made an impatient noise, and turned to look out the window. For a brief moment,
as he turned, I saw not Levi, the villain, but Levi, the victim.

“You
cannot be as ignorant as you pretend, Your Highness,” he said quietly. “Even
the most cursory inquiry into my background would have revealed my history.”

Inexplicably
and unmathematically, I felt sorry for him. Although I was sure it was mostly
the result of the quest clause, I did think it would be unprincessly not to
express concern for even the vilest creature. “Is there no way to take back
your treason?” I asked. “Could you not undo it in some way?”

Levi
turned to look at me. He began laughing. “You assume I
want
to take it
back.”

“Yes.”

“Then
your assumption is in error, Your Highness, and you do your mathematical
background a disservice by pretending emotions you do not feel.”

“I—”

He
held up his hand to stop my protest. “You would do better to formulate an
equation for the length of time it will take my Lord Tallis to bend you to his
will. For whatever plan you have concocted will fail. And you, Princess, will
be little more than another prisoner in his dungeon.”

I
looked out the window and ignored Levi for the rest of the journey. The greasy
scumbag had tried my last sympathetic princess nerve. I hoped he was unhappy
and haunted by his treason.

~~~

“Stand
over there,” Levi motioned to a dark area near the door of Tallis’ throne room.
“When I call for you, you can come forward, and,” he smiled as if his mouth
held laughter behind it, “have your
audience
. And remember don’t say
anything to Lord Tallis until he speaks first.”

I
nodded. Levi was a greasy, annoying, traitorous sycophant, but I had to play
his game if I was going to get into the dungeon. And getting into the dungeon
equaled freeing my friends, which also equaled saving Cinderella’s story so
little girls everywhere could hope for a missing gold slipper.

I
mentally replayed the last part of the equation.
Gold slipper
. I
reviewed Cinderella’s story. “I think that’s right,” I whispered. “I think she
really did lose a gold slipper, even though everyone thinks she lost a glass
one.” Apparently the quest clause made up for my lack of fairy tale knowledge.

I
shook the shoes from my head and my eyes followed Levi as he walked down the
strip of black carpet toward the dais and throne.
[55]
By the torchlight, I could see his greasy footprints sinking into the carpet.
He bowed and generally sycophanted himself.

“May
unhappiness smile on you forever, my Lord Tallis.”

A
tiny figure on the throne stirred. He was only inches taller than Peridiom,
Lubcker, and the rainbow crew. It seemed strange that such a short person could
be so evil–the sender of dead lilies and sparrows.

“Tell
me, Levi, for what purpose have you disrupted my leisure? I was reading
The
Raven
when I was called.”

“I
think, Your Lordship,” (I could hear the arrogant smirk in Levi’s voice.) “you
will find my news far more pleasing than Poe.”

“Enough
with the riddling; Get on with it, Levi.”

The
tiny man’s voice was deeper than I had supposed. Two or three times deeper.

Levi
bowed again and began, “Someone from E. G. Smythe’s Salty Fire Land craves an
audience with you.”

Tallis
leaned toward Levi; his eyes full of interest. “Who?”

Levi
paused–probably for a smirk. “Princess Lily Elizabeth Sparrow–the future Protector.”

Tallis
sat straight up and smiled. “I’ll see her now. Tristen!” He snapped his fingers
at a person in the shadows. “Clear my schedule and alert Malcom.” Tristen made
a shadowy bow and left the room.

During
all of this, Levi stood near the throne like a puppy waiting to be praised. At
a nod from Tallis, he gestured to where I was hidden. “My Lord Tallis, it is my
unending honor to present: Princess Lily Elizabeth Sparrow, future Protector of
E. G. Smythe’s Salty Fire Land.”

I
swallowed, made a silent wish that Doug’s plan would work, and walked towards
the dais. Tallis looked as if he were bouncing slightly in excitement and I
didn’t think Levi’s smile could mathematically get any bigger. The ratio of
muscle capacity to facial area was stretched thin already, and–

I
stopped myself.

This
was not the time for math.

I
curtsied and waited.

“You
may speak,” Tallis moved an arm in a welcoming gesture.

I
ducked my head a little in a slight bow and said, “Thank you for agreeing to
see me, my lord.”

“I
always welcome my enemies into my home. Though I have heard my own emissaries
did not receive an equally cordial reception.”

I
smiled. “No doubt our welcome was as genuine as yours is false.”

Tallis
laughed: a scary, deep sound. “Witty, like your father. And pretty, like your
lovely mother, Ginnie.” He shot a glance at Levi.

Levi
turned and nodded at someone in the shadows.

“But
surely you did not come all this way to verbally spar with me.” He raised his
eyebrows in anticipation.

“Your
Lordship speaks rightly,” I swallowed, grateful for the quest clause’s
vocabulary. “I’ve come to ask that you release Ella, called Cinderella. Her
story is of great importance to the children of the real world.”

Tallis
studied me for a moment. “No. Your request is denied. And you would do well to
remember that while you’re here, my world is the real and
only
world.”

“Perhaps
Your Lordship would be willing to bargain for Ella’s release.”

“Bargain?”
Tallis smiled. “What could you offer me that would be worth the release of a
prisoner? Worth emptying a cell?”

I
returned his smile and answered, “Myself.”

Tallis
narrowed his eyes for a moment, studying me. “Done,” he said, suddenly,
slapping his leg. “I will empty a cell in exchange for your surrender. Levi,
escort the Princess to the dungeon.”

Grinning,
Levi led me out of the room. His greasy hand held my arm tightly and as we
left, I heard Tallis call out, “A pleasure doing business with you!”

Levi
walked fast. I had to trot to keep up with him. I smiled to myself; Levi didn’t
know I had not the minutest intention of getting away. I was 100% glad to be
going to the dungeon.

I
mentally checked off another part of Doug’s plan.

The
cell door closed with a thud and Levi looked through the window. “Enjoy your
stay, Princess.” He flashed his greasy smile.

After
his footsteps faded, I counted by squares to four hundred and let out a sigh. I
was in. But would I really be able to get out?

I
looked around the cell. Except for a pile of straw in the corner, it was less
like a dungeon and more like a nightmarish classroom. An old desk sat in the
middle, a chalkboard hung on one wall, and math books were stacked in the
corner. That was the classroom part of the equation. The nightmare part equaled
no chalk with which to write, the books were sealed shut, and worst of all was
the art.

Framed
and hung all over the walls were equations obviously put there to annoy me.
Every equation was wrong and designed to look pretty. 7 + 5 = 75 is prettier to
look at than the accurate 7 + 5 = 12. Other such gems included:

6(6)
= 66,

8 –
3 = 83,

4/9 =
49,

and
45 + 70 = 4570.

I ignored
the math art. This is the best they could do at keeping me forever sad? I’m
annoyed, certainly, but not exactly morose. Great. I sighed. Another quest
clause word. I hope “morose” and “ebony” aren’t pushing vital algebraic
equations from my mind.

Looking
out the door window, I saw a guard pacing the hallway. When he passed my cell,
I glanced at my watch: 7:45 pm. I sat at the desk and waited for his return. I
needed to calculate how long it took for him to complete his rounds.

This
was an integral part of Doug’s plan. In the HEA office, we’d studied my map table’s
heat sensing map of the dungeon. I watched the dot that represented the guard move
around and around the dungeon, while Doug explained the rest of the plan. He
would send me a map of the dungeon through my shoe. I had seen one back at the
HEA office, but we didn’t know exactly where they would put me. Because the map
table had heat sensing capabilities we could see which cells were occupied.
There were thirty-two cells total, twelve of them were occupied before I
arrived. I was the thirteenth prisoner, but I expected Tallis to keep his word
and empty at least one cell. Then I would only have to rescue 12 people.
[56]

I
didn’t think Tallis would actually free Ella. He had cleverly not agreed to
that. He only agreed to empty a cell. I just hope he hadn’t freed Calo. I
needed Calo’s help to get everyone else happy.

A
sudden pain in my left foot meant Doug’s first update had arrived. I kicked off
my shoe and unfolded it. The map of the dungeon was clear. Doug had drawn a
circle around my cell and marked it “Lily”. On the other side of the hallway, six
cells away, he had marked an X through a cell, with the notation, “Ella’s birds–freed.”

I slipped
my shoe back on, without tying it. More updates were coming and they wouldn’t
hurt as much with my shoe loose. I tucked the laces in so I wouldn’t trip.

I
had hoped the evil stepmother or the evil Queen from
The Candlemaker’s
Daughter
would be the freed prisoner, but on second thought I was glad I
wouldn’t have to talk to birds.

Footsteps
came from the hallway and I quickly sat on the map. I looked at my watch: 7:52.
Seven minutes. I had no way of knowing if this was accurate. Any mathematician knows
you must have lots of data to interpret from. What if he had been delayed on
his circuit and it usually only took five minutes? I would have to get an
average time.

As
his footsteps faded, I focused on finding Calo. When I left my cell, I could
either go left or right. 50% chance of choosing correctly. Going left meant
another choice almost immediately as it split into two directions. But going
right meant a long hallway, with only two cells to check, but it was the only
way to get to one of the cells, unless I backtracked later. Where had they put
him?

I
decided to take the longer route to avoid the backtracking, which would waste
time and be unmathematical. Also, I would be following the path of the guard and
be less likely to run into him that way.

I
smiled, confident in my mathematical decision and lay on the pile of straw,
waiting for the guard to return. If he looked in, I hoped he would think I was
lying there in a defeated position, thinking depressing thoughts. He returned
at 7:58. Hmm. Only six minutes this time.

While
he was gone the third time, I decided to test Doug’s statement that I’d be able
to get out of my cell because I wasn’t unhappy. I quietly put my hand on the
handle; it turned completely and the door pulled in a little. Inexplicably, and
unmathematically, I’d be able to walk out into the hall whenever I wanted. I
looked at the door more closely. There wasn’t even a keyhole. Apparently,
locking people up with their unhappiness was rather effective.

Next,
I rubbed the marble to make myself invisible and slipped out of the cell. I
closed the door and looked in my window. I needed to see what the guard would
see; I needed to find a blind spot. After successfully discovering one near the
door, I slipped back in, and returned to visibility.

I
continued hanging out near the door. It was important that I look impatient
when the guard passed next. He was back at 8:07. Nine minutes.

I
thrust my arm through the window and assumed my princessly demeanor. “You
there! Guard.”

He
stopped and raised an eyebrow.

I
brought my arm back in. “Could I possibly have a blanket? This cell is quite
chilly, and I’m ready to retire.”

He
brought the blanket back in seven minutes. As he was leaving, I called out, “As
I’ll be sleeping now, I’ll thank you to step lightly as you pass my door.”

He
made a scoffing noise, stomping his feet loudly as he walked on.

When
his footsteps had faded, I dashed to the straw in the corner and quickly made a
pile that (when covered with a blanket) resembled a sleeping person. Taking a
deep breath, I went to stand near the door and made myself invisible.

While
I waited, I reviewed the route I would take. Out the door. Turn right, check
second cell door on left. Turn left. Check second door on left again. Continue
on. Turn left. Check first door on right.

I
continued repeating the route until I was sure I knew it, and I heard the guard
returning. I held the marble poised to reappear if necessary. He came to the
window and looked around slowly. He was so close I could smell the fish he’d
had for dinner. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the “body” in the straw,
but eventually he walked on.

When
I couldn’t hear his footsteps, I slowly opened the door and slipped out,
closing it just as quietly. I walked silently to the left and checked the first
occupied cell on Doug’s map.

I
stood on my tip-toes to see inside. Not Calo. I didn’t recognize the occupant. I
had no clue who this man was. I almost laughed when I thought of what Calo
would say: “You didn’t know who he was, Lily? How can you be so useless? Here
is a perfect example of why you should have learned everyone in the kingdom on
a facial recognition basis.” I bit my lip, because it was true. I really should
know who this man was, but I didn’t. And I didn’t have any more time to stand
here thinking about this.

Just
as I was turning away, a stroke of mathematical genius struck me. I may not
know who he is, but
Calo
will. If I described whatever was making him
sad, then Calo, the brilliant Happiologist, should be able to figure out who he
is.

I
looked in again. The man was trying to take a ring off his finger. There was an
empty cradle in the corner, and on the wall hung a picture of a really
beautiful, really evil looking woman. She reminded me of Potio Bane or Morgan
Le Faye. I repeated the items again to seal them in my memory, then I turned
the corner to the left.

The
first cell on this hallway was empty. (The right hand side had no cells on it; apparently,
it was just a wall.) I checked quickly anyway. Mathematically, it’s always
better to be safe than sorry.

In
the second cell on the left, a woman sat on a low stool. She wore black
mourning clothes. On the wall hung an embroidered sampler
[57]
that read, “Children are the comfort of old age.” Underneath it were empty
picture frames; one of them was engraved with the words: “Mother’s Pride and
Joy.” I memorized her sad items and moved on.

The
next three cells were empty–just as the map had reported them. I walked as
quietly as I could here. This hallway formed a beautiful right angle with
another hallway. I peered carefully around the corner to see if the guard was
still in the intersecting hallway. He wasn’t, so I turned left and checked the
first door. Hopefully it would be Calo.

I
peered through the window. A young woman sat in a corner trying to sew by the
light of a flickering candle. She was quietly crying and whispering to herself.
I strained my ears to hear what she was saying: “Just ignore it. Just ignore
it. It isn’t real. It’s not really him. There is no baby crying.”

A
baby crying? I didn’t hear anything. I listened for another moment, and still
heard nothing. Obviously, this wasn’t Calo. I memorized her sad items and moved
on.

I
walked very quietly; the perpendicular hallway was short and intersected
another hallway. I had studied this hall very carefully on the map table. The
guard walked through it twice on his route. The first time on the left side and
the second on the right. I stopped to calculate. He was about forty-five seconds
ahead of me anyway, since I had waited for his footsteps to fade. Based on the
data I’d gathered about his route, I knew he took between six and nine minutes
to complete it. Twice he came back in seven minutes. So between three hundred
sixty seconds (6 minutes x 60 seconds) and five hundred forty seconds (9
minutes x 60 seconds), I could expect him to return to a given spot. I would,
of course, use the lower end of the equation; better safe than sorry as Newton
would say–if Newton had ever done anything like this. I spent a moment imaging
Sir Isaac Newton finding a way to use the law of gravity to free Calo.

Then
I returned to calculating; I was already forty-five seconds behind (360 – 45 = 315
seconds). I estimated that each door stop had taken about thirty seconds for me
to observe and memorize, so three stops at thirty seconds each equals ninety
more seconds. (315 – 90 = 225 seconds until the guard came up behind me.)
Additionally, I estimated three seconds each for the empty cells that I
checked. Three times six equals eighteen more seconds. (225 – 18 = 207
seconds.) Plus I had been moving slowing, so I subtracted another thirty
seconds. (207 – 30 = 177 seconds.) Finally, I subtracted another ninety seconds
for how long I had been standing there calculating. (177 – 90 = 87 seconds.)

I
was just wondering if the guard had already walked this hallway for the second
time, when he suddenly came around the corner. I flattened myself against the
wall and waited quietly until he turned the corner to the right. As silently as
was mathematically possible, I began my trek to the next occupied cell. It was
on the left–three doors down. No one was in the first two cells, but the one of
them was full of feathers.
[58]

Just
as I reached the third door, the guard re-entered the hallway. I sucked my
breath in. I had forgotten that when he left this hallway, he only went down a
short three-cell hall and doubled back to pass by my cell. When he had turned
the corner, I let out my breath and took a hesitant step forward. The margin of
error in this equation was so small, there was no room my carelessness.

Ella
was in the next cell I checked. My stomach twisted with guilt. My friend (I
hoped she would still be my friend when this was over) sat at an easel,
painting. But she wasn’t creating her usual paintings of talking birds or
cleaning supplies. Instead, whenever she put the brush to the canvas, colors
spread in all directions melting together to make a complete picture. The first
stroke I saw became Aven searching through his old map room–looking for his
maps. When Ella, horrified by this picture, withdrew the brush, the picture
vanished. She touched the canvas again and there was Miranda and Grimm looking
very happy on their wedding day. Ella herself was in the background, looking very
sad. She removed the brush again, the picture melted away, and she buried her
face in her hands, crying.

I
wondered why she didn’t just stop trying to paint. I began putting together a
formula for the probability of her being magically confined to the stool, when
I noticed the rest of her cell.

It
was filthy–disgustingly so. Its filth defied all mathematical laws. How could
one room be so dirty? The
only
clean spot was the small circle in the
center of the room where the easel stood. No wonder Ella was there. She couldn’t
bear being in any other part of the cell.

I
sighed. Ella’s unhappiness may not have been all my fault, but I certainly did
not do all I could to stop her. I looked at her once more and made a promise to
myself.
If I get out of this alive, I will do all I can to become a true
Protector for these people.