There were lots of things Cinders didn’t especially enjoy. Doing the dishes, mopping the floors and clipping her stepmother’s toenails on a Sunday evening were among her least favourite activities, but it turned out the thing she liked least of all was being trapped in a goblin’s living room. Even though she felt as if she’d been in there forever, it had only been about half an hour, but, in that time, she’d already wished up three big bags full of gold.

‘I’ll be back when I’ve spent all this,’ the little man cackled as he waved on his way out. ‘Don’t you go anywhere!’

Hilarious, Cinders thought, staring wistfully at the door.

‘He’d better let me have a go on the FunStation,’ she muttered, stretching her legs out as far as she could.

She looked round the living room. Surely there had to be something she could do to get out of there even without magic. After all, she’d only been able to grant her own wishes for the last few days, and her dad always said she was a clever girl. She would get herself out of this pickle without wishing if she had to.

‘There has to be at least one thing in here with his name on it,’ she said out loud. ‘If I can just find it, I can get out.’

Cinders’s sisters had lots of things with their names on. Eleanor and Agnes had hats and T-shirts and jumpers and necklaces and badges and even special mugs that they took with them to the coffee shop in the village, all inscribed with their names. Cinders had written her name on the label of her nightie, but that was about it. Cinderella wasn’t an especially popular name in the kingdom. Or anywhere else for that matter.

But there wasn’t a single named necklace, special mug or even so much as a piece of post lying around the living room that displayed the goblin’s name.

For the time being, at least, Cinders was stuck, but she wasn’t ready to give up. She knew her friends were out there, probably searching high and low for her. Sparks, Hansel and Mouse would move mountains to find her, of that she was sure.

*

‘Do you reckon Cinders will be mad that we’ve started without her?’ Hansel asked Sparks, while stuffing his face with a particularly yummy ham-and-cheese sandwich. This was his second particularly yummy ham-and-cheese sandwich of the ten particularly yummy ham-and-cheese sandwiches they had bought with their magic gold. While Cinders was trapped in the goblin’s front room, Sparks and Hansel were halfway through a most delicious picnic.

The big red dog looked at the boy with a very serious expression on his face.

‘Cinders never needs to know,’ he instructed. ‘Besides, if she was that hungry, she wouldn’t have run off and disappeared, would she?’

They had returned to the spot where they’d left her very promptly, but she wasn’t there. Well, it was fairly promptly … After they’d both gone for a wee, washed their hands, had a drink of pop and a hot dog, wandered around a bit, then been to find the sandwich stand. It wasn’t their fault. There really was an awful lot to see at a marketplace halfway to Fairyland.

‘Sparks, have you always known that Cinders’s mum was a fairy?’ Hansel asked.

‘I can’t remember everything from when I was a puppy,’ Sparks replied. ‘But I always knew she was special.’

‘Did you know Cinders was a fairy?’ Hansel asked.

‘I got an idea about it when she wished me a metre up off the ground,’ Sparks replied, growling at the memory. Dogs were not meant to fly.

‘Do you think Cinders likes me?’ Hansel asked.

‘You’re full of questions today,’ Sparks said, snaffling another sausage. ‘What’s brought on this sudden and uncharacteristic quest for knowledge?’

Two pink spots blossomed in Hansel’s cheeks.

‘Just wondering is all,’ he mumbled as he took another bite of his sandwich. ‘Sometimes I’m not sure.’

‘Perhaps a better question would be: do you like Cinders?’ Sparks asked.

Colouring up, Hansel brushed the crumbs off his face and straightened his little hat.

‘On to more important things – how much money have we got left?’

‘More than enough,’ Sparks replied, pawing through their stash of coins. ‘I think we should look for some dessert. Wherever Cinders has disappeared to, I’m sure she’ll come running back at the first sniff of a freshly baked doughnut.’

Hansel gave a confirming nod and the two of them set off into the market once again, weaving in and out of the stalls, following their noses with happy hearts.

‘You like Cinders, don’t you?’ Sparks asked, trotting alongside Hansel.

‘For a half-fairy, half-girl who can do magic and almost got us eaten by a munklepoop,’ Hansel said, blushing so brightly that even the tips of his ears turned bright red, ‘she’s all right.’

Sparks grinned, his tail wagging extra hard.

‘Say, isn’t that Mouse?’ Hansel asked, pointing across the marketplace.

‘Don’t you try to change the subject,’ Sparks woofed. ‘You admitted it! You like Cinders!’

‘No, really!’ Hansel yelled as a tall speckled horse with big, flickering whiskers careened around the market, crashing into stalls, dodging the angry stallholders and squeaking in a loud and very un-horse-like manner. ‘It’s definitely Mouse, and Cinders isn’t with him!’

‘Wherever has she got to?’ Sparks wondered, his fur bristling with worry. It wouldn’t be the first time Cinders had found herself in deep trouble, after all.

‘Mouse!’ cried Hansel, leaping into his path. ‘Mouse, stop! It’s us! Where’s Cinders?’

But, if Mouse recognised them, he didn’t show it. His eyes were wild and his whiskers were twitching and he looked very, very worried indeed.

‘Grab that mouse-horse!’ Sparks barked as Mouse raced towards them, galloping faster than ever. Hansel readied himself, arms outstretched, legs bent, ready to grab Mouse’s reins as he ran by. Mouse came closer, Hansel squatted lower, reached out, grasped the reins and—

‘Whoa there!’ he yelped as Mouse kept on galloping, Hansel still clinging to the reins. ‘Sparks! Help!’

‘A dog’s work is never done,’ groaned the shaggy red dog as he took off after the runaway Mouse and the boy that was being dragged along beside him.