CHAPTER NINETEEN

AFTER FREDDIE CUT BLUE FREE of the thorns, the three of them headed downstairs, where the slumberers were waking up. Groggy gamblers patted their cards. Cocktail waitresses pushed themselves off gin-soaked carpets and gathered their trays. Slot players scraped coins into plastic cups, and argued over what belonged to whom. There was no sign of Felix, and Mira wanted to get out of the casino before she saw him.

Blue had warned her, before they’d left the forbidden room, that Felix didn’t leave things unfinished—his curse wouldn’t let him. He’d only left her alive because her thorns had attacked him, walled her in and protected her, and prevented him from sealing her fate.

Felix would come back for her, and for Freddie, too. And while Blue and Freddie had vowed to protect her, she knew there was only one way it could end … and she didn’t want it to end like that today.

They gathered Viv and Henley, who were waiting in the lobby—and left the Dream behind.

The five of them grabbed breakfast at a greasy diner no one they knew ever went to, and drank enough coffee to stay awake for days. When the air started to smell like burgers instead of bacon, they peeled themselves off the seats and went out to face the world. Viv and Henley went one way—and Mira, Blue, and Freddie went to Freddie’s house.

Mira knew she couldn’t go on with her vanishing act. She had to call her godmothers and confess, and she was determined to get it over with—today.

She wasn’t expecting to see her godmothers in Freddie’s backyard.

They’d gone around back in an attempt to avoid Freddie’s parents, only to run across a small gathering when they got there. Tables and chairs and croquet hoops had been arranged beneath an outdoor canopy behind the house. Glass pitchers filled with iced tea and orange slices sat sweating on the tables.

Elsa and Freddie’s mother were drinking tea and talking. Bliss was clutching a croquet mallet, her bell-shaped skirt flouncing up every time she bent to take a shot. Caspian was cheering her on, saying, “That’s it, great job!” And Freddie’s father sat by himself, smoking a pipe and reading the newspaper.

Mira froze.

“Word travels fast when one of the casinos ends up covered in briars,” Elsa was saying. “Today of all days—we figured it had to be Mira.”

Freddie’s hypersensitive mother was fanning herself with a Japanese fan, her lips pursed in a victimized expression. “I should have known he was breaking an enchantment. I heard him stumbling around the house this morning—putting on cologne at seven o’clock. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me!”

Freddie had stopped short at the sight of the gathering. Now he was motioning back the way they came, whispering, “Perhaps it’s better if we go in the front….”

But Elsa had already seen them. She caught Mira’s eye and smiled. Freddie’s mother followed her gaze and sprang up from her seat.

“Frederick!” she shouted. “How could you?”

“Ah—I’m sorry?” Freddie tried.

“Didn’t you think I might like to take a picture? You didn’t even warn me! Now all I have to look forward to is … a fish girl! And a dirty housekeeper who talks to mice!” Mrs. Knight’s voice was wobbling up and down; with every breath, she sounded closer to tears.

Caspian looked wounded. “A fish girl? Is that what you think of her?”

Mr. Knight took his pipe from his mouth long enough to say, “Boys—don’t upset your mother.”

Freddie sighed and went to make amends, and Mira headed over to Elsa and Bliss. It was time to face them. She figured they’d be angry—she’d lied to them, upset them. But they had some explaining to do, too.

It was strange to look at her godmothers and see them not just as her guardians, but as fairies—their true selves. Back home, they’d made themselves look a little older every year. But now the careful wrinkles and the silver streaks in their hair were gone. Elsa looked like the college students she taught—brown hair still damp from a shower, wearing faded jeans and a loose white shirt. Bliss looked even younger—like a porcelain doll brought to life. And yet they blazed with a quiet power, a majesty they’d always hidden.

They looked like they were waiting for her to speak, so she did.

“I know the truth now,” Mira began. “About my parents. And my curse. Why did you lie to me? Why did you tell me they were dead?”

She caught herself, took a deep breath so she wouldn’t cry. She didn’t want to act like a child. She needed them to see that she could handle the truth—no matter what it was.

Bliss laid her croquet mallet on the grass. “Your parents didn’t want you to know they were alive, Mira. They thought you’d be safer that way. We were carrying out their wishes.”

“Come here, Belle. We know this has been hard on you.” Elsa drew up beside her, and Bliss did, too. They each put an arm around her. “Do you want to know how it happened?” Elsa asked.

Mira nodded. There was a lump in her throat.

“You did have a christening party,” Bliss said. “It was held in a beautiful ballroom in Beau Rivage—the same ballroom where your parents held their wedding reception. Your parents had been under the impression that they couldn’t have children, and so when they were blessed with you, they wanted to do something extra special to celebrate.”

“It’s a tradition in the fairy-tale community to invite fairies to a christening,” Elsa explained. “The fairies bestow gifts on the infant, in the form of talents or virtues. Usually, there are one or two fairies. Your parents invited seven.”

“I bet they had to pay the party planner a zillion dollars to find that many,” Bliss said.

Elsa nodded in agreement. “When it came time for the fairies to bestow their gifts, we went down the line in order of seniority. It was deemed that you would be pretty, and kind, have a lovely voice, be a good dancer, do well in school—that was my gift—and be graceful.”

“I was the youngest fairy,” Bliss said, “so I had to wait until the end. I was going to give you animal magnetism—I think Frederick has that—”

“Irresistible to squirrels?” Mira raised her eyebrows.

“It’s very fairy-tale,” Bliss sniffed. “Anyway. I was going to do that—but then an evil fairy showed up.”

“No one knew who she was,” Elsa said. “Even I had never heard of her. It would have been impossible to invite her. But she was furious—they always are. She was wearing a black feather cowl and a long black dress infested with beetles. The beetles were scurrying out from beneath her skirts and taking flight and landing on the cupcakes. Vanilla frosting topped with edible gold and black beetles …” Elsa shivered. “I’ll never forget that. I had such a sick feeling. … I knew she was going to curse you. And we only had one fairy left who could temper it. So I shoved Bliss under the refreshments table and we waited.”

“Those beetles kept landing on me,” Bliss said. “That nasty fairy walked right up to you and touched you with her wand. It was a gold wand—not glass like ours.”

Bliss slipped a slender glass wand from her pocket, and Elsa did the same. Mira had seen her godmothers carry these things around, toy with them absentmindedly … and all her life she’d thought they were knitting needles.

But they were wands. Of course.

Now Bliss touched the wand to her palm, like it helped her to remember. “The fairy stated that when you were fifteen or sixteen, you would cut your finger on a razor blade and die. And then she left, and it was my turn. I couldn’t undo the curse, but I could soften it—in place of the gift I hadn’t had a chance to give you. I made it so you wouldn’t die when you cut yourself. You’d simply fall into a deep sleep: one that would last for a hundred years, or until an Honor-bound prince arrived to wake you with his kiss.”

“After that, the party emptied out. You can imagine—no one felt like celebrating. And it was like you had a ticking time bomb right here”—Elsa tapped Mira’s lower back, where her mark was—“and no one knew how best to protect you. Least of all your parents. Some of the fairies stayed behind to advise them, and ultimately, your mother and father decided to hand you over to two fairy guardians. Who would do their best to protect you—and love you,” Elsa said, squeezing her. “And who would take you away, to a place where fairy tales were just stories, where you’d have the best chance to cheat fate. And in seventeen years, when the danger was over, they would bring you home.”

“And I guess … the danger is over,” Bliss said, and went quiet. Her fingers fumbled over her wand.

Mira closed her eyes. She felt, for a moment, like she was very small again. Very young. She’d spent her whole life with Elsa and Bliss. And as much as she was looking forward to meeting her parents, she didn’t intend to just step out of her old life and into a new one, as if her time with Elsa and Bliss was a dress she’d outgrown. Her parents were her parents—they were more special to her than they could imagine.

But Elsa and Bliss were her guardians, and always would be.

“What if,” Mira said, “once the danger was over, I decided I already had a home?”

Elsa’s eyes glimmered with emotion. She looked almost surprised—and then she smiled. “Well, I suppose we’d suggest they start with a visit, and go from there. Would you like that?”

“I would love that,” Mira said.

Elsa tucked a strand of hair behind Mira’s ear. “I’ll make the arrangements. Today, you just enjoy what’s left of your birthday, all right? Tomorrow, we can start all the changes. I have to get my old house straightened up. Now that we’re back home, where we belong …”

Home. It felt good to think of Beau Rivage as home. As the place where they belonged, and could be themselves. All three of them.

Mira glanced around, aware of the world again. Freddie had managed to pacify his mother and was standing nearby, watching Mira as if waiting to be of service to her, oblivious to the small bird perched on the rim of his iced-tea glass.

“He’s cute,” Bliss murmured in Mira’s ear, tickling her to get a reaction. “Is he a good kisser?”

Mira’s face flushed hotter than the air. “Bliss.”

“Now let’s get rid of this ugly thing.” Elsa’s fingers closed around the chain of Mira’s razor-blade necklace. She started to lift it, and Mira clapped her hand over the chain to stop her.

“No,” she said quickly. “I want to keep it.”

Her godmothers didn’t know what the razor blade meant to her. They didn’t know it had saved her life—and she wasn’t going to tell them. She wasn’t going to tell them anything about Felix.

Felix would have to be dealt with eventually—Mira had no illusions about that—but she wouldn’t give her godmothers a reason to torture him, like Louis the Wolf had been tortured. No one deserved that kind of cruelty. Her godmothers were good people, but if they knew he’d tried to kill her, there was no telling what they might do.

Elsa’s eyebrows dipped lower, like she didn’t understand. “Mira, that thing is disgusting—it’s covered in blood. It’s not meant to be a souvenir.”

“You could cut yourself,” Bliss said. “And it just looks bad. Like you’re suicidal.”

“I won’t cut myself again,” Mira insisted. “I don’t care how it looks.”

“Mira,” Elsa warned.

“It’s her choice,” Blue said.

Blue had kept to the fringes of the gathering. He came closer now, his posture rigid, not quite making eye contact. She remembered that he’d been that way around Delilah, too. He didn’t trust fairies. And why would he? An evil fairy was responsible for his curse. Good fairies viewed him as something to be destroyed.

Because he wasn’t a hero. Heroes killed people like Blue. He was a villain.

Which was something Mira would never accept. Because Blue was a hero to her. He’d helped save her; he’d done his best to warn her while bound by the rules of his curse—and to push her away even when he wanted her near him. That meant more to her than destiny.

Elsa and Bliss noticed him, and bristled in a feral way.

“You would be in favor of her doing dangerous things, wouldn’t you?” Bliss said.

“I don’t want you anywhere near Mira,” Elsa told him. “Do you understand?” She drew her wand like it contained all the power of a samurai sword. And maybe it did. Fairies cursed people with wands, drew magic from their blood and changed them—for better or worse.

“With all due respect,” Freddie said, stepping in front of Blue. “I won’t let you threaten my best friend.”

“Don’t be insolent, Frederick,” Mrs. Knight scolded.

Bliss was shaking, with a fury that seemed completely alien to her. She aimed her wand in Blue’s direction, though Freddie—noble, Honor-bound Freddie—made sure to shield him. “That boy is a villain, Mirabelle. A wicked, nasty little—”

“I know,” Mira said. “He’s a Romantic. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

She glanced quickly at Blue. He looked like she’d stabbed him.

She was sorry for saying it, but arguing in his defense wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Knowing that she liked him, trusted him, would put Elsa and Bliss right back on alert. And she didn’t want to be protected. She’d rather leave them in the dark for a while.

“Good,” Elsa said after a pause. She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“Lucky for you she’s sensible,” Bliss said. “Because I’m a good fairy, but you don’t want to see what I do when someone hurts my Mira.”

“Now take that necklace off,” Elsa said.

“No,” Mira snapped.

Her godmothers looked aghast. She’d never snapped at them before. No matter how frustrated she’d been.

But … she’d gotten used to making her own decisions.

“Now, now, no need for frowns on these gorgeous faces,” Mrs. Knight said. “How about a group picture? Freddie, you stand next to Mira.”

Mira gave in to Freddie’s mother’s photo session. They did about fifty fake prom poses and some group shots, half of which were invaded by birds. Her eyes were focused everywhere but on the camera—seeking Blue.

She didn’t know where he was—if he’d gone inside or left—but she hoped he’d stayed. She hoped he knew her well enough to know she would want him to.