Princess Cinderella, Briar-Rose and I stop for a cappuccino in Remy’s bistro and, sitting at a small, round table outside, we make plans for Phillip’s birthday party. Of course, I still plan to hunt down Arthur later, but in case I haven’t found true love before the weekend, the ball will come in handy.
We just finished, and Cindy is paying for us all—which is very nice of her—when a giant bird lands only a couple of feet away from me. The one-and-a-half-meter wingspan of the stork causes quite the gust, and the wind blows the napkins and bills off several tables around us. Startled, I duck my head until Rory touches my elbow and says, “Oh, look! You got an SMS.”
When the wind settles with the bird’s wings, I look up in wonder. “What the heck is an SMS?”
“Short Message Stork,” she informs me, waving an arm at the black-and-white bird with its long beak. “Have you never gotten one? They’re everywhere these days.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “You really are the girl from the woods, aren’t you?”
I let that comment pass and warily peek at the feathered avian. “And what is it for?”
“Miss Riley Redcoat?” the stork suddenly speaks up and comes a step closer, its long legs stiff like sticks.
Ugh. “Yes?”
The stork guy salutes me with his wing and continues. “I have a message for you from Granny Redcoat.” He clears his throat and suddenly speaks with a completely different voice. One I know too well. “Riley, darling, where are you? I’ve been waiting for your visit since yesterday. Shouldn’t you be stopping by with cake and wine? The Wolf wasn’t here, either. I hope he didn’t get you in trouble.” A shiver trails down my back. It sounds as if my grandmother is standing right in front of me. The stork looks me sternly in the eyes and speaks on in Granny’s voice. “I’ll wait two hours. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll file a missing person’s report.” And then the stork’s huge eyes soften. “Love you. Granny.”
“Wicked.” I’m still staring at the bird with an open mouth. When he keeps looking at me intently, I chip out a formal yet hoarse, “Thank you.”
The stork spreads his wings, ready to take off, but Briar-Rose is faster and grabs him by one wing to hold him down, startling not only him but also me. “Don’t you want to send your gran a message back?” she asks me, her gaze incredulous.
“Oh. Is that possible?”
“You bet, silly. Just tell him where to deliver it and then dictate the message.”
“Okay. Then…um…” I cough slightly and turn back to the stork with a straight spine, speaking out loud and clear. “This is a reply for Granny Redcoat.” After that, I hesitate a moment. Damn, what do I even say?
Because the stork starts to look a little impatient, I quickly mumble, “Granny. Something came up, but I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. Jack is well, too. I’ll come by later this week to explain everything.” Okay, that didn’t sound too bad. Cindy and Rory fix me with expectant stares, so I add, “I love you, too. Riley.”
Proud, I nod at the SMS so he knows that I’m done. In the next second, he takes off, ruffling the updo of Madame Goat, who’s walking by with her seven young kids, the smallest of them sitting in a stroller that she pushes down the street.
“Boy, that was crazy,” I say with fervor when my friends still watch me as if I was the odd thing in the whole situation. “Who’s inventing such amazing stuff?”
“The Evil Queen recently expanded her apple production and delivery service, E-Apple,” Cindy explains. “From what Stormy said, she was always more into technology than poison.”
Snow-White’s stepmother is behind this? How cool is that? “So, how do these storks operate? Do I have to buy one to use it?”
“No, sweetie, they’re free for all.” She points up, and I lift my gaze. A few single storks cross the sky. “The stork net is still thin, but E-Apple is working to cover the whole country soon. If you have a message for someone, you only need to lift your hand and do this.” Cindy taps her middle finger and thumb together twice. “One of them will come down then and take up your message.”
“That is so crazy!”
“No. Crazy is that even your granny knows how to send an SMS and you don’t.” Giggling, Rory gently pokes me with her elbow as we stand up and leave the café. “Maybe it really is time for you to come out of the forest and move into a proper castle. Your new prince can show you all the glorious things that you’ve missed.”
Which totally reminds me of my date with King Arthur. “You’re right. I better get going and give this arrow a test drive.” I confidently pat the string of my bow across my chest.
Cindy scrunches her face. “Don’t hurt him.”
We hug and say goodbye, then Briar-Rose laughs, tugging playfully at my hair. “Send us an SMS later and tell us how it went.”
I grin and nod because I’d love to use another stork today.
We head in opposite directions, my way getting me out of Grimwich and through the forest once more. Coming to the signpost and not finding Jack waiting there for me feels strange. But, frankly, so have the past twenty-four hours. I better get used to this feeling soon if I don’t want it to distract me from my plan.
Except, that’s easier said than done. Of course, it’s nothing personal and only has to do with the pull of the story. But the deeper I walk into the woods, the more I miss Jack. If yesterday afternoon proved one thing, it was that it’s more fun to go on a mission with him than alone. By the time Cupid’s giant tree comes into view in the middle of the lush green clearing, the stupid longing has me wound so tightly in a knot that I’m seriously considering turning around and going to visit Jack instead. He mentioned renting an apartment above Geppetto’s workshop. Can’t be too hard to find, right?
Then a different idea takes shape. One that sparks a tiny grin. I lift my arm high above my head and tap my middle finger and thumb together a couple of times. Moments later, the flapping of a stork’s mighty wings in front of me makes me back up two steps.
“Hello, Mr. Stork,” I say warily as he stalks toward me with expectant eyes and taps against a nametag attached to his blue vest. “Oh. Reginald,” I correct politely.
He waits. My eyes dart anxiously around the place. “Miss?” he prompts me.
“Oh, yes, sure.” I clear my throat vigorously and then say loud and clear again, like earlier at Remy’s, “This is a message for Jack Wolf.” Suddenly, I remember that he might not know where Jack lives. But if I ask that now, will he report it in the message? Sheesh! A little panicky, I clasp his beak shut with both hands and send him a pleading look. “Do you even know where to find him?”
“Mmwwmm,” he murmurs and flaps his wing against my hands until I let his beak go again. “Madam, do you mind?!” Indignant, he straightens his vest and flexes his beak at the same time. “Storks have a photographic memory, and E-Apple constantly provides us with updates about the country and its recipients. I will recognize the bad Wolf when I see him.”
“Okay, sure. Sorry. Um, yeah…” My face shrinks to a helpless raisin. “Let’s continue then, shall we?”
He gives a formal nod to my incomprehensible stammering.