As soon as the key turns in my dorm-room door, my eyes fly open. Mother says I have the hearing of a bat.
I lie motionless as the door opens and Kayla tiptoes inside, choosing not to turn on the light and wake me up. Then she bangs into a coatrack.
“Ouch! Ouch!” Kayla yells at the top of her lungs. “Yowza!”
I turn on the oil lamp at the side of my bed and see Kayla hopping around on one foot. She’s still wearing our navy uniform, even though school has been over for hours. I am surprised she doesn’t change out of them as soon as classes are over. I do. Her wings shoot out, and soon she’s fluttering up and down, holding her aching toe.
“You okay?” I ask.
She holds her breath, then lets it go. “Sorry, roomie. I was trying not to wake you.”
This is the first time I’ve seen Kayla in our room since I arrived a few days ago. I was starting to think I lived alone. Not that I mind. I almost never had a room to myself for more than thirty seconds in our boot.
Kayla flutters to her bed and sits across from me. She makes a face. “Sorry we still haven’t gone on a proper tour of FTRS.”
“It’s okay.” I sit up, pushing my heavy quilt from home off me. “I’ve been exploring on my own.” It’s the perfect excuse to watch ol’ Flora and see if there is anything I can use to get out of here.
“I didn’t even help you move in.” Kayla sounds like she feels bad.
I shrug. “I really didn’t have much to unpack.” This quilt Mother made me when I was a baby, a few pieces of clothing, and a family drawing are all the possessions I own. Kayla looks like she’s moved in permanently.
The stone walls in our round room are decorated with colorful designs that Kayla painted, and silver streamers with tiny gold stars hang from our ceiling. They make me feel like we’re at a royal ball rather than in a bedroom. Ours is almost at the tip of the turret in the girls’ dormitories. (They keep trolls near the bottom level so they can’t snap and accidentally destroy the place.) Just getting to the room is a workout (twenty-four floors), but it seems worth the price. My boot was tiny and crowded, and someone was always crying or needing a diaper change. When I walk through this door, the room is mine and mine alone. Well, mine and Kayla’s.
“It’s a pretty good room,” Kayla says, seeming to read my thoughts as her legs swing off the side of her bed. “I feel safe when I’m in here,” she says softly. “Sometimes I almost think I’m better off staying in here permanently.” I look at her strangely. Kayla holds out a mini magical scroll. I can’t believe she owns something so pricy. I wonder if she stole it. “Did you see today’s headline?” She pulls the scroll away. “I almost don’t want to show it to you. It might give you nightmares.”
I roll my eyes. “You sound like the Wicked Stepmother.”
“Former,” Kayla teases. “But seriously. Enchantasia is not as safe as everyone thinks it is.”
Underneath the purple calligraphy and hearts, castles, and flowers that adorn every headline on Happily Ever After Scrolls is a much darker story.
Gottie Spotted in Rowland. Harking Family Missing.
“Mr. Harking has been tracking Gottie for the last two years,” Kayla says, explaining the article before I even read it. “I heard Wolfington talking about him once. I think Mr. Harking worked for the school. Now he and his whole family have disappeared.” Her eyes are as big as the moon. “Just for looking.”
I feel suddenly cold, and not because castles are drafty. I think of Mother, Father, Anna, Han, Hammish, Felix, and Trixie being taken away because of my spying, and my stomach begins to churn. “I’m sure someone will catch her eventually. Flora said they were trying to bring her in.”
“Trying,” Kayla repeated. “I don’t think anyone is ever going to catch her.” Kayla floats to her dresser, snaps her fingers, and POOF! she’s wearing shimmery blue pj’s. She looks at the picture of my family Father had a fairyographer whip up for Mother’s birthday. It’s of my whole clan in front of our boot. Mother packed it with my things. “You’re lucky you have such a great family.”
I go to my dresser and look at the picture too. I’m wearing faded green pajamas. They pale in comparison to Kayla’s. “Yah, they’re keepers,” I say, ignoring the look of Father in the picture. His mouth is curved down in a deep frown. “Do you have a picture of your family?”
Kayla’s eyes flash, and immediately I wonder how I’ve said the wrong thing.
“I don’t have a family,” she says flatly. “Rumpelstiltskin took them from me.”
“What?” I try to understand. “Why would Rumpelstiltskin want your family?” Just saying his name out loud sends shivers down my spine. His name rolled off Kayla’s tongue like she’s said it a thousand times before.
Kayla’s button nose scrunches tight. “He doesn’t need a reason!” she snaps. “Sorry. It’s a touchy subject.” She stares out our tiny, stained-glass window into the moonlight. “The last time I saw them was the day before I left for FTRS,” she says quietly. “Mother asked me to go to the village to get rolls for my last dinner at home. She said the dinner was to celebrate the beginning of my new life.” Kayla rolls her eyes. “I hated her for saying that. I told her FTRS was her way of trying to get rid of me, and she denied it.” Kayla looks down at her nails, which have sparkly blue polish on them.
“We had a huge fight, and when I came back, she was gone.” Her voice is hollow. “She, my sisters, the hollow tree we lived in, the garden where we grew turnips. Gone. As if none of it—or us—ever existed.” Kayla slumps against the wall ’til she looks like a crumpled dress on the floor. “When I tried to find them, a peddler told me he saw Rumpelstiltskin make them disappear.”
I’m too stunned to speak. I sit down next to Kayla, waiting for her to cry. She doesn’t. I’m not a big hugger, but at a moment like this, it seems appropriate. I awkwardly put an arm around her and squeeze. “I’m so sorry.” I mean it.
“Thanks.” Kayla pulls away from me and traces a yellow starburst on the wall with her finger. I have a feeling she painted it. “It’s been three years now.”
Three years without a family. Without a home. How did she survive? “You’ve been here that long?” No wonder this room looks so lived in.
“I was on my own for a while.” Kayla’s face has an eerie glow in the low light. “I tried to find them, and to survive, I sold illegal goods like the fake handbags I’m always selling to Flora’s foolish daughters, Azalea and Dahlia. Eventually the dwarf police caught up with me and sent me here.”
Hearing Kayla’s story makes me want to write to Anna. I wonder if she’s doing okay without me. Do she, Trixie, Han, Hammish, and Felix have enough to eat? How could I have let myself get caught and mess up their only chance at having a decent meal every night? Han is probably so hungry that he’s crying. I’m so mad at myself. I—
“Do you hear violins?” I ask.
Kayla groans. “Yes. I should have warned you.” She quickly stands up. “Our downstairs neighbors, Eunice and Beatrice, like to practice their violins at bedtime.”
I listen to them play. “They’re pretty good.”
Kayla gives me a look. “You say that now, but you won’t in a few days.” She stomps on the floor loudly. I join in. “Keep it down!” The music stops, and we high-five. Thankfully, Kayla is smiling again. Our conversation about her family is seemingly forgotten.
Then the violins start again. They’re louder.
Kayla growls. “They wouldn’t!” Her wings appear almost instantly.
I wince as Eunice—or Beatrice—begins to play off key. I’m not sure if it’s on purpose. “They’re making a stand.”
“Well, we’re not going to let them get away with it.” Kayla grabs her wand and grins mischievously. “Miri has to be asleep. So how do you feel about a little dance party?” She flicks her wand, and loud music fills our room.
I grab Kayla’s hand and stomp away, the two of us spinning in a circle ’til all my worries disappear.
Pegasus Postal Service
Flying Letters Since The Troll War!
FROM: Gillian Cobbler (Fairy Tale Reform School*)
*Letter checked for suspicious content
TO: Anna Cobbler (2 Boot Way)
Dear Anna Banana,
I guess you’ve figured out by now that I’m going to be here awhile—at least three months. I’m so sorry I messed up your birthday. I just want you to have everything I don’t, but I promise I’ll figure out a better way to do that than swiping from royals. I’ve only been here a few days, but FTRS doesn’t seem that bad so far. For the first time ever, I sort of have my own room. You’d love the dorm. You get your own bed and no one leaves smelly socks on the floor. I can picture you hanging up one of your Rapunzel ads and putting Grandma’s mirror on your dresser. (Yes, we have dressers! Not sacks hanging from the wall with all our clothes.)
If this wasn’t a reform school, I’d send for you immediately. I do have some good news: Headmistress Flora says if I behave, you guys can come for the princess ball. Take care of the family for me. And watch Han and Hamish around that new shoe polish Mother made. It may smell like gum, but trust me, it doesn’t taste like it.
Love, Gilly