The Fairy-Tale Matchmaker (27 page)

Cory went to bed early that night. Her dreams were filled with matches for the people she knew, but when she tried to tell them what she'd seen, not one person believed her.

Early the next morning, Cory sent a message to Olot, asking if they could rehearse in a new location. She told him why it was necessary, and was sure he'd understand. When she left the house, he hadn't replied yet, but she couldn't imagine that he wouldn't agree.

Dew was still glistening on the grass when she reached her grandfather's house. She left footprints behind when she landed on the lawn and started toward the front door. After shaking her wings to realign her feathers, she closed them and wished them away before stepping onto the porch. The bell jingled on the other side of the wall loud enough for Cory to hear. Although Orville was wearing a sour look when he opened the
door a crack, the moment he saw her standing there, he grinned and opened it all the way.

“Welcome!” he said. “We were wondering when you'd come back. We heard the good news. Congratulations! I must say, we're all very excited. A new Cupid! Imagine that! I'll show you to your grandfather, then get you a bite to eat. He'll be so happy to see you!”

The putti who had barely talked to her during her earlier visit couldn't seem to contain his excitement now. He chattered the entire way to the terrace where her grandfather was seated, then toddled off to get the food.

“I wondered when you'd come see me again,” Lionel said, echoing the putti. “How are you doing?”

Cory kissed him on the cheek and took the seat across from him. “The flying is wonderful and my visions are crystal clear, yet when I tried to tell a friend of mine what I'd seen she didn't believe me. I want to help people, but how can I help them if they don't believe what I tell them?”

“They usually don't,” her grandfather replied. “A cupid has to be extra convincing to get the idea across.”

“Here we are!” Orville sang out as he swung the door open. A procession of putti poured through the door, carrying trays of pastries, steaming dishes of eggs and
fish, four different kinds of bread, bowls of fruit cut up and whole, jugs of fruit juice, milk and tea, and another table to put it all on. After they had arranged everything to their satisfaction, the putti gathered around Cory and Lionel, smiling as if they couldn't stop.

“Everyone wanted to see you to say how happy we are that you've inherited your grandfather's gifts,” said Orville.

“You're going to make a wonderful Cupid,” Margory blurted, blushing when Cory turned her way.

A putti wearing an apron said, “Just let us know what you need and we'll be ready to do it!”

“Thank you very much!” Cory said, glancing from one to the next. “You're all very kind.”

“Ask her,” a putti said, poking the one standing beside him.

“No, you ask her!” the other said, poking him back.

“What is it?” Cory asked.

“They were just wondering if they could see your wings,” said Orville.

“Of course you can,” Cory said. She pushed her chair back and stepped to the edge of the patio. Although she felt self-conscious for a moment, she saw the expectant faces and didn't hesitate.
Wings!
she thought, and they appeared, the colors shimmering across the creamy feathers as she twitched her shoulder blades.

“Ooh!” the putti all cried, their eyes enormous.

Lionel waited until they'd had a good long look before clearing his throat and saying, “I believe that's enough for now. You'll be seeing my granddaughter and her wings quite often, I'm sure, so please get on with whatever you were doing.” When they didn't move, he added, “Her breakfast is getting cold.”

“Sorry!” a few putti said, bobbing their heads and backing away. Others continued to stare at her wings in awe and didn't move until their friends pushed and tugged them toward the door.

When the last dawdling putti had peeked at Cory once more and shut the door behind him, Lionel smiled and said, “You can't really blame them. They've been so afraid that after I'm gone there wouldn't be a Cupid and no work for them to do. After spending their entire lives in my employ, they can't imagine doing anything else.”

“Are you offering me the job?”

“Do you want to be the next Cupid?” he asked, watching her face.

“I don't know if I can. I mean, I know I have some of the abilities now, but what if I can't do it all?”

Her grandfather shook his head. “If you have the wings and the visions, you're more than halfway there. The rest will come with time and it will all seem very
natural. I was two years older than you are now when I started seeing people's matches in my mind. My father had told me what to expect, but it still came as a surprise.”

“What would happen if I didn't accept?”

“Then the world would have to get along without a Cupid. Fewer people would find their soul mates. There would be less love in the world. You can see some of it already. I told you that I'm semiretired. I cut back on my hours because my health demanded it, but I wanted to do more. I've noticed that since I cut back, more couples have gotten divorced, and more people are unhappy in their marriages. I'm not saying you
have
to be Cupid, but the world would be a better place if you accept the position. You said that you wanted to help others. What better way to help than to bring together soul mates who might not ever meet without your intervention?”

“I understand what you're saying. But if I do make this my career, can I stay in my band and live my life the way I want to? I don't want to walk away from my friends.”

“No one is asking you to walk away from anything,” said Lionel. “As Cupid, you'll get to set your own schedule. You'll be able to do what you want when you want to do it.”

“You're very convincing,” said Cory. “I don't think this is going to be a hard decision to make.”

“Good!” her grandfather replied. “Now what would you like to eat? It would be a shame if they went to all this trouble and this delicious food went to waste.”

Cory's appetite had grown along with the strength of her wings and she ate more than she would have even a few days before. She nibbled the first bite of pastry, then devoured the rest and helped herself to fried eggs and smoked fish; slices of melon; and a casserole of spiced potatoes, cheese, and onions.

She had just served herself another piece of fish when she thought of a question for her grandfather. “You said that you were trying to remain anonymous and let the putti represent you. Did you tell anyone that you were Cupid? Did your friends know, or your relatives?”

“I let the fewest people possible know. Your grandmother knew, of course. And so did your father. He was the one who told your mother. A few of my more discreet friends knew, but most of my friends and relatives thought I was just a successful businessman. If you don't believe people can keep a secret, don't tell them. People think and act differently toward you if they know that you're Cupid.”

“Good idea,” said Cory. “My best friend, Daisy,
couldn't keep a secret for five minutes, but I bet Marjorie could keep one forever, which is a good thing, because I already told her. And Uncle Micah is very good at keeping secrets. He knew about you and didn't tell me.”

“I always liked Micah. I'm sure you could tell him anything and he would never betray the confidence.”

Cory nodded and thought about the other people she knew. She wouldn't tell her mother, but Delphinium might figure it out for herself if she already knew about Lionel. Cory wouldn't tell her grandmother, although her mother's father would be okay. The only other person she could think of who could be trusted with the news was Johnny Blue, except she wasn't sure he wanted to talk to her anymore.

Cory ate one more piece of melon, then sat back and glanced at her grandfather. He was watching her with a smile on his face. “I used to be able to eat like that,” he said, nodding toward her plate. “Now, if you're finished, there's something I'd like to show you. It's how I convince people to accept what I've seen in my visions.”

Lionel stood and reached for her hand. Together they walked down the steps onto the lawn that stretched from the terrace to the river at the bottom of the hill. They hadn't gone far before he stopped and let go of her, only to hold his hands in front of him, palms up. A moment later the air shimmered and a bow appeared in
one hand, a quiver of arrows in the other. After shouldering the quiver, he set an arrow in the bow. Cory watched as he pulled the bow string back and let the arrow loose, aiming at a target that hadn't been there when they walked across the lawn.

“Let me get this straight. You convince people by shooting at them if they don't listen to you?” asked Cory.

Lionel laughed. “You aren't far off. I don't use an ordinary bow or ordinary arrows when I'm working. I use these for practice, but when I am on the job as Cupid, I use magic arrows that will penetrate the heart, but not the flesh. The arrows don't hurt them; they just change what their hearts tell them.” When he saw the confused look on Cory's face, he added, “Let me explain. The arrows come in pairs. The person I shoot with the first arrow and the one I shoot with the second will fall in love with each other. It's a process that would have happened eventually, under the right circumstances. I just make sure it happens.”

“But I don't know how to use a bow and arrow,” said Cory.

“Then that's what we're going to work on today. Hold out your hands the way I did,” Lionel told her. “And think ‘bow.' ”

When she did, a bow and a quiver of arrows appeared
in her hands so quickly that their weight surprised her and she almost dropped them.

“Those are yours and will appear whenever you want them,” said her grandfather.

He taught her how to stand to shoot, how to notch the arrow and pull it back so that her thumb nearly touched the corner of her mouth, and how to hold the bow steady and keep her aim true.

Cory was hitting the target nearly every time when she turned to her grandfather and said, “Learning how to shoot an arrow is all well and good, but how do I do it in public? Someone is bound to try to stop me if I pull out weapons like this.”

“When the time comes, no one will see your bow and arrow.”

“I don't understand,” said Cory.

“It's another ability of Cupid's. You'll understand soon enough. Look, Orville is bringing us something to drink. I suppose it is time for a break.”

The putti brought out water, tea, and fruit juices so cold that the pitchers holding them were frosted. Cory's arms were getting tired and she was happy to stop for a few minutes.

“Tell me,” said Lionel. “Is there a young man in your life? Have you met someone special yet?”

Cory shook her head and swallowed her juice. “No,
there isn't. Even when I was dating someone, I knew he wasn't really the one for me. I haven't looked yet to see my true love's face.”

“It wouldn't do any good if you had,” said her grandfather. “Cupid can never see the face of his or her true love before they meet, and the arrows don't work on members of our family. Believe me, if they did I would have used one on your father. In fact, true love doesn't present itself the same way to us as it does to other people. When I met your grandmother, my stomach bothered me every time she was close. I couldn't stop thinking about her, or I would have stayed away. It wasn't until I'd kissed her for the first time that we both knew we were meant to be together. From what I've heard, the same thing happened to my father when he met my mother. I told your father this, but he didn't believe me at first.”

“So my mother wasn't his true love,” Cory said as she handed her cup to Orville.

“Yes, and I was foolish enough to tell him that when he was infatuated with her. They resented me for it, your mother more than your father. I think he eventually understood, but by then they were married and you were on the way.”

“When I do meet someone … Will it matter if my true love isn't a demigod?” Cory asked, examining her bow.

“Not unless he has some sort of magic that can obscure your powers the way a fairy's can. My mother was a human. I inherited my father's abilities the same as if she had been a demigod like him.”

“That's good to know,” Cory said, smiling to herself.

They practiced more then, until Cory was hitting the bull's-eye nearly every time. When Orville and Margory brought sandwiches and more cold drinks, Cory and her grandfather took another break.

“I was wondering,” Cory said when they had finished eating. “Will I shoot only at people who are standing still?”

“You'll find that time stands still when you call for your bow and quiver. You'll be able to move, but your targets won't,” Lionel told her.

Cory picked up her bow and quiver. The heft of the bow had felt right in her hand from the first time she held it. It was the arrows that were unusual, although they looked fairly normal—white with bright blue fletching. When she'd first started shooting, not all the arrows had hit their mark. Those that missed had returned to the quiver on their own. Later, when her aim was better, other arrows appeared in the quiver to replace the ones still vibrating in the target. Curious, Cory pulled the arrows out to peer inside the quiver, but it looked quite ordinary.

“Maybe I should practice shooting at moving targets just in case,” Cory said as she studied one of the arrows more closely.

Her grandfather scratched his chin. “I suppose we could have the putti run back and forth in front of you carrying the targets.”

Orville made a choking noise as he refilled Lionel's glass, but he managed to smile at Cory when she looked his way.

Cory laughed and shook her head. “Never mind. It was just a thought.”