I rub my hands over my face. Get a grip, Riley. There’s a crack in everything, and sleep is overrated anyway. Also, there are many pros to staying awake forever. I can read all the books from the library in his surely amazing palace, for instance. Or binge-watch every cool show I’ve missed out on because I have no television in the woods.
With new courage in my heart, I draw closer, quietly bending over the sleeping prince to catch a glimpse of his face. And freeze.
“Oh, no! No freaking way!” Grabbing one end of the blanket, I shake it so hard, the dwarf dozing in the trap flies off in a high arch. “You…! Get out of my prince bed!”
Sleepy jerks awake as he lands on his behind and stares at me with stunned, saucer-like eyes. He takes his pointed brown hat off and scratches his shaggy white hair. “Red Riding Hood? What are you doing behind the Seven Hills?” He finishes the last word with a mighty yawn.
“This is not behind the Seven Hills, you bumbler. You took a nap in my trap.” My gaze gets stuck on some red sauce in the corner of his mouth. “And you ate all the berry bait!”
“Oh, that was your bed?” Hands braced on the ground, he pushes himself to his feet, butt rising first. “I thought it was a rain shelter for hungry dwarfs.”
What? I narrow my eyes at him. “Who would ever build such an odd thing?”
Sleepy shrugs.
“A prince might have come by last night, and now he’s gone forever because you blocked the bed.” Growling in frustration, I turn around and trudge off into the bushes. Someone needs to go on trap watch again. Only, my foot gets tangled in the rope, and it tightens as I stumble, trying to catch my balance. The stick is pulled free from the ground, and the trap snaps shut over the empty pillow-nest, coming down in a clattering rumble. All the laths fall apart, leaving nothing but a giant pile of wood behind.
Terrific.
My chin drops to my chest, and I stare at the ruins of my wonderful plan. Without Jack’s help, there’s no chance of repairing this, and the Blue Fairy only knows how long he’ll be gone.
Something pulls at my cloak. The white-bearded dwarf next to me holds up his hand as I tilt my head to look down at him. A single strawberry lies on his palm. His bushy eyebrows lift in a sad look, and Sleepy snuffles, “I’m sorry, Miss Riley.”
Expelling a sigh, I sit down beside him, take the fruit from his hand, and stuff it into my mouth.
*
In the early evening, the failure of plan T for trap is long forgotten. Back to plan B. The ball. After returning all the pillows and blankets to my house, a hot bath with rosy bubbles is on the list. Clean and smelling nice, I put on my finest red silk underwear. Something special will go on top tonight. There’s a chest beneath my bed, holding the treasure of a beautiful velvet gown. My mother’s old wedding dress.
A snicker of excitement escapes me as I step into it. Unfortunately, getting the zipper up in the back is a bit of a challenge. I skip through the room, struggling with it until it’s finally fastened and I can look at myself in the mirror. Dark red velvet hugs my breasts, long sleeves of white voile cover my arms and hands. Under my chest, the skirt flows down to part over white silk in the front. The hem touches my ankles. It’s truly lovely. The only thing that looks slightly out of place is my leather half boots, but they’re better than appearing at the ball barefoot.
Squealing in anticipation of tonight, I twirl around, holding my arms up in the position of having a handsome dance partner. I smile at the air where his head would be. Oh, he’d surely have a beautiful face. Blue eyes. Sweet lips. A slim crown perched on his hair... Dancing ever so lightly around the room, I sway my head and start singing.
“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…”
The smell of something burning makes me stop two seconds later. Where the heck is that coming from? Rooted to the spot, I scan the area around me. Odd, there’s nothing on the stove, and the fire’s banked, yet the smell is unmistakable. When a strange heat licks up my legs, I angle my head and look down.
“Oh, my Goodness!” My mother’s gown is on fire! I leap backward in reflex to escape the sneaky flames but, of course, the dress comes along. “Crud!” Hysterically patting at the sizzling fabric, I jump around in the room until I stumble out onto the porch. Puddles from last night’s rain still litter the forest in many places. Without thinking, I dive into one, belly-flopping on the squelchy ground.
The cool water and mud assure me that I’m not going up in flames like a freaking match. Catching my breath, I sit up and examine the dress. Yep, the fire is extinguished. Sadly, so are my plans for tonight.
Half of my mother’s velvet gown is charred, the rest of it is stained with mud. The hem must have brushed an ember and started the terrible destruction. Going like this, I would be the swineherd at the masked ball. Tears spring to my eyes.
Dabbing at my cheeks and thereby smearing sludge from my fingers all over my skin, I scramble to my feet and shuffle back to the three stairs leading up my porch. Since the dress is ruined beyond repair, it doesn’t matter that the rags hang into another puddle as I sit down.
Elbows braced on my thighs, I bury my face in my hands. Now I’ll never find a prince or a happily ever after for myself.
Jack will be so gleeful. He’d thought it was crap all along. I can just imagine his taunting sneer when he comes back saying, “Told you so.”
With every breath, my heart hurts more.
As if feeling my grief, my little robin friend glides to my side and plops down on his behind, stretching his fragile legs in front of him, the claws pointing up into the air. Wings hanging, he tilts his head up to me and gives a pathetic chirp.
Seriously, I don’t know which of us looks more miserable at the moment. The weeping bird, or the muddy-faced scarecrow in the burned rags. The thought almost coaxes a smile from me.
Carefully, like touching a butterfly, I brush my fingertips over the robin’s back. “There, there… Don’t look so sad. Some things just aren’t meant to be, are they?”
He opens his beak to let out another sad chirp then rubs his head against my hand, wiping away a tiny bird tear. With a deep sigh, I rise and walk inside, taking my little friend with me. I put him in his favorite spot on the open window ledge before trudging into the bathroom. Time to clean up the mess I made.
As I come back a while later, clad in my simple red dress again with a white blouse beneath it, Alice’s clock on the chest shows a quarter to five. That means it’s past eight already. The ball has begun. Since my friends arranged the feast not only for Phillip’s birthday but also for me, I should let them know I won’t make it.
Barefoot, I traipse outside and lift my face to the purple evening sky. In the dimming light, sporadic storks zoom through the colorful streaks of clouds. Like before, I raise an arm and tap my fingers twice to hopefully call down an envoy. Within seconds, a tall, black-and-white-feathered bird lands in front of me, adjusting his blue vest. “Good evening. What can I do for you?”
I can’t message them all. Since Princess Cinderella always arrives late to celebrations, it’s probably best to pick her as the recipient. She can pass on the news to the others when she gets there. Clasping my hands in front of my stomach, I clear my throat.
“This is a message from Riley Redcoat to Princess Cinderella.” A pause should mark the real text. “My dress caught on fire. I can’t come to the ball tonight. Have fun with the girls and wish Phillip happy birthday for me. Riley.”
With a nod, I finish my speech, and the SMS takes off into the sky. Melancholy eats at me as I watch him fly until he’s long out of sight. My feet are getting cold in the grass. It’s probably wise to go inside before I catch a cold, but a rising round of robins keeps me rooted. First, the ten or so birds fly in wild arcs, which is unusual at twilight. However, they soon form a solid ring. A chill runs down my spine.
If robins fly in circles, it means one thing. Magic is in the air.