Chapter 17
Twinkle Toes
When Faybelle arrived at the athletic field, she was surprised to find that the six cheerhexers were not there as instructed. Apparently, the chariot app hadn’t worked, so they’d only walked halfway before deciding they were too tired to take another step. So Faybelle had to go look for them. She found them draped across benches next to the swan pool. The sun was shining and the fairies weren’t paying any attention to their limp wings.
Faybelle pulled a travel-sized spray bottle of sunscreen from her pocket. “Your wing tips are going to burn,” she scolded. She walked around and spritzed each fairy. How could they be so negligent? This wilted-wing spell was clearly taking a bigger toll than Faybelle had realized. It was wilting more than just the fairies’ wings. “Did you come up with a plan?” she asked, returning the sunblock to her pocket.
“We’re too tired to think.”
“Our feet are killing us.”
“We need jet packs or something.”
“Yeah, jet packs.”
Faybelle had never been a fan of complaining. Actions always spoke louder than words. “Hello?” she said. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m in the exact same condition, and you don’t hear me whining.” Or confessing that I’m the cause of all this, she silently added.
She snapped her fingers, trying to get their full attention. “Listen up. I will overlook your total disregard of my instructions this one time because I have already devised a plan, and it’s both brilliant and devious.” She opened her shimmering cape to reveal the quiver and bow, which she’d slung over her shoulder. Faybelle looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. The only creatures nearby were the swans, and Duchess Swan, who could turn into a swan, was not among them. It appeared the coast was clear. “These are Cupid’s arrows,” Faybelle explained. Still, the fairies said nothing. “Don’t you get it? I’m going to aim one at her foot.”
“Why?”
“Are you taking archery or something?”
“Are you mad at her foot?”
“No! I’m not mad at her foot.” For fairies, these six were unbelievably daft sometimes. “If she gets struck by her arrow, she’ll go lovesick crazy, and she won’t care about being in the play. She’ll only care about love. Get it? She won’t go to callbacks this afternoon. She won’t get the part.”
“I still think it would be easier to turn her into a toad.”
“It might be easier, but that kind of magic could be traced back to me.” Faybelle closed her cape again. “This plan is brilliant because this is Cupid’s magic, not my magic. People will think she shot herself in the foot. It’s foolproof. But I need your help.”
They groaned with exasperation. How could she motivate them? “Cupid thinks she’s better than us because she can fly and we can’t.” Faybelle waited for those words to sink in.
Despite their fatigue, little sparkles ignited in their eyes. “We don’t like Cupid.”
“No, we don’t.”
“She can fly and we can’t.”
“That makes us so mad.”
“Let’s get her.”
“Yes, let’s.”
And then, with a sudden burst of energy, they cheered. “Faybelle, Faybelle, shish, boom, bah. Shoot Cupid in the foot, rah, rah, rah!”
There was nothing like an evil plan to bring the cheerhexers together once again.
It didn’t take long to find Cupid. She’d already posted signs all over campus about her lost bow and arrows.
Getting to the stable required more walking, but they finally made it. The stable doors stood wide open. Faybelle told the cheerhexers to wait beneath a grand oak tree while she surveyed the situation. She crept to the barn and peeked around the doorframe. Cupid was standing in the middle of the barn, brushing a lovely white winged pony. The pony’s ears pricked and she glanced at Faybelle, but Cupid didn’t notice. Faybelle couldn’t have wished for a better location. There was no one around to witness the devious deed except a pony who couldn’t speak. Hexcellent.
Cupid, however, wasn’t going to be as easy a target as Faybelle had hoped, because as the little demigoddess brushed, she kept moving. She flapped her wings so she could reach the back of the pony’s neck. Then she moved to Peggy’s rump to brush the tail. Next, she darted toward the front leg. She was flitting around like a pink bumblebee.
Faybelle hurried back to the cheerhexers, who were now lounging in the oak tree’s shade. “Okay, she’s in there, so here’s what we’ll do. I need you to go inside and persuade her to take off her shoes.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Yeah, how?”
Faybelle groaned. “Do I have to think of everything?”
“Yep.”
“Uh-huh.”
Wasn’t that the truth! “Okay, so tell her that you love her shoes and you want to try them on. Or tell her that she stepped in Pegasus poop. Whatever! Just get her barefoot and then distract her so she doesn’t see me. Got it?”
They nodded. And off they trudged in their sweatpants. And because they weren’t used to tiptoeing, they made as much noise as a herd of minotaurs.
Faybelle pulled an arrow from the quiver and held it against the bow. She’d never shot an arrow before, but how difficult could it be? She hurried back to the barn. A stack of hay bales provided the perfect hiding spot. She stepped behind it. The barn housed all sorts of hoofed creatures, so the odor was pungent.
“Hi, Cupid,” the cheerhexers said, their heavy footsteps kicking up bits of straw. Peggy snorted.
Cupid stopped brushing and landed on the ground. Her little wings fluttered their welcome. “Hi. What are you all doing here?”
“We came to see you.”
“Really?” Her wings relaxed. “Do you need love advice?”
“We want you to take off your shoes.”
Faybelle rolled her eyes. At an upcoming Villain Club meeting, she’d need to have a discussion about subtlety.
“My shoes?” Cupid looked down at her feet. The shoes were pink, of course, decorated with little rhinestone hearts. “Do you like them?”
“Love them.”
“Adore them.”
“We don’t like you because you can fly.”
“But we think your shoes are spelltacular!”
“Really?” Cupid didn’t seem to notice the insult amid all the compliments. “I special-ordered them from the Glass Slipper. Would you like to try them?” She slipped one off and handed it to the nearest fairy. Cupid’s toes twinkled with pink polish. As she reached for the other shoe, Faybelle smirked with satisfaction. How easy was this?
Faybelle pulled back the bow and prepared to aim when the sound of approaching footsteps drew everyone’s attention. Faybelle stepped into the hay bales’ shadow as Humphrey Dumpty entered the barn. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the cheerhexers. His round face turned crimson.
“Humphrey?” Cupid asked. “You okay?”
“Yes.” He gulped, then adjusted his thick glasses. “I was looking for you, Cupid. I saw your sign taped to the tree outside the Castleteria.”
“Did you find my bow and quiver?” she asked hopefully.
“No, but I wanted to ask you something. Something… personal.” He fiddled with his suspenders, which held his pants way too high.
“Sure, this sounds important.” She turned to the fairies. “Give me a moment and then we can talk about my shoes.” With one foot bare, she led Humphrey over to the stack of hay bales, far enough from the fairies for a private conversation but close enough so Faybelle could hear every word. “What’s up?”
“You know how I tried out for the forgetful prince?” His voice had a squeaky quality. “Well, it’s the leading male role, and that means Daring Charming will get it, of course.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because he always gets the lead. Nobody sees me as a leading man. I’m the tech guy. I’m the nerd.” Cupid didn’t argue with him. “And if everyone sees me that way, then Justine won’t be any different. So I was wondering, well, do you think you could help me get girls to take me more seriously? Maybe help me get a date?”
Try not tucking your sweater-vest into your pants, Faybelle thought as she peeked around a hay bale.
“The key, Humphrey, is to be yourself,” Cupid said calmly. “The right girl will love you for who you are.”
“Yeah, but if you help me get a date, then Justine might see me differently. She might give me the leading role. I know it’s a long shot, but I’d like to try.”
As Cupid listened to Humphrey, she stood perfectly still, her bare foot in view. Faybelle pulled back the bow. Ready… aim…But just as her fingers released, Peggy, the Pegasus pony, lunged forward and knocked into the bales, throwing Faybelle off balance. The arrow soared through the air. Faybelle landed on the floor.
“Whoa, Peggy, what’s wrong?” Cupid grabbed Peggy’s reins. “Do you want some hay?”
Faybelle scrambled to her feet. Still hidden, she sneaked a look. Cupid’s bare foot looked untouched. Cupid wasn’t wearing a goofy, lovestruck grin. Faybelle had missed her target! Where had the arrow gone?
A moment later, that question was answered.