The man looked down at his body in amazement and then up at Cinderella with a huge grin on his round, jolly face. He spun around in a circle, almost as if he expected to see something on his bottom. Then he looked back to Cinderella and smiled.
“You did it!” he said, sounding surprised. “I didn’t know if you were ready to hold a wand, but under the circumstances, well, I thought it was worth the risk.”
Cinderella gave him a stern look. “Where is my cat?” she asked.
“Cinderella,” the man said, “it’s me. Your godfather.”
“I don’t have godfather.”
“Yes, you do. And thanks for digging up my wand.”
“Your wand?” She gripped the edge of the table, wondering how long it would take her to reach the kettle hanging over the fire, the only object visible that could serve as a weapon. “That’s my mother’s wand!”
“It was your mother’s.” The man bent his legs a few times, as if testing them out, and then put his hands on the floor and stretched his backside up. His actions were remarkably similar to a cat’s.
Something cracked. He winced as he stood and grabbed his back. “Oh, that’s better.” He winked.“After your mother died, the wand became your father’s, but before he remarried, he gave it to me for safekeeping.”
He tipped his head to the side in a slight rolling motion, and pawed his cheek with the back of his right hand. He continued, “That is, until you grew up.”
“So, it’s my wand?” She was so confused.
“Not yet.” The man who called himself her godfather stretched out his fingers, pulsing them a few times, and then drew his nails along the top of the wooden table. Looking as if he’d suddenly remembered something, he cracked his knuckles and smiled. “I’d forgotten how good that feels.”
He turned toward her. “I’m the wand’s official guardian, and it’s up to me to decide when you’re ready. It’s very dangerous for a fledgling wizard to use a wand without training, especially a fledgling wizard with such strong innate powers.” He tipped his head to the side in a weird swooping manner. It was almost as if he were impersonating a cat.
“Still”—he jumped onto her bed, hands first, legs following—“it’s impressive how you managed to control the wand. You helped me alter your stepmother’s spell.”
Cinderella backed away, gripping the wand tightly, wondering if she could use it to keep this strange, catlike man from attacking her. “Who—what are you?”
“Don’t you recognize me?” He stepped off the bed, his arms spread as if he planned to hug her. “I’m your godfather, Fred.”
“Stay away.” She circled the table until it was between her and the man. “Are you a fairy?” She’d heard of such creatures living in the neighboring kingdoms, but had assumed they were just silly stories.
“A fairy godfather?” He laughed. “That’s funny. No, Cinderella. I’m your real-life godfather, Fred. I came to visit you not long after your father . . .” he hesitated and bowed his head, then continued, “. . . not long after your father passed away.” He took a step forward. “I could tell instantly that your stepmother was evil. She’d torn the house apart looking for your mother’s wand, not knowing that your father had entrusted it to me before he married.”
Cinderella sucked in a sharp breath. “Where’s my cat?” She knew she was stammering, but under the circumstances, she decided to give herself a break.
“I saw how your stepmother was treating you, and told her I’d ask the king to grant you ownership of this house, even though you were barely five years old. Failing that, I planned to take you away from this place, forever.”
Cinderella had a flash of memory. She had seen this man before, but his hair hadn’t been quite so gray then. She’d giggled in his arms. He’d brought her candies and chocolate.
“I remember.” Her breaths were shallow, but her body warmed and she instantly felt safer than she had in a long time. “What happened? Where have you been?”
“I turned into Max,” he said. “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose. Your stepmother tried to get me to tell her where I’d hidden the wand, and when I refused, she turned me into a mouse.”
“But . . .” Cinderella shook her head. She’d been starting to believe him, but he was clearly crazy. She pushed herself along the edge of the table to keep it between them. “Max is a cat, not a mouse, and you still haven’t told me what you did to him.”
He laughed and held his belly. “I’m a wizard, you know. I was very powerful in my time. Not quite like your mother was, but good. I did a little tinkering with your stepmother’s spell.” He leaned onto the table and his fingers kept pulsing, almost as if he were kneading the table.
“Tinkering?” she asked, still suspicious.
“I didn’t have enough experience combating black magic—no one does, it’s been outlawed for decades—so I couldn’t block your stepmother’s spell, but I was able to alter it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your stepmother turned me into a mouse, but the moment she left the room, I twisted her magic to turn myself into a cat.” He swooped his head to the side and then batted at his head in a very Max-like gesture. “Cinderella, I’m Max.” He pushed down on the table and jumped up to land on all fours. “Boy, that’s not as easy as it used to be.”
She looked into his eyes. Crazy as it was, it was true. She whispered, “Max . . .” and then stepped toward him. “Or do I call you Fred?”
He jumped back to the floor, rounded the table, and affectionately squeezed her upper arm. “You can still call me Max. I’m used to it now–and I kind of like it.”
She dove into his warm embrace, his strong arms like a blanket wrapped around her. “Oh, Max. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
They embraced for a few moments, but then Max pulled back to hold her by the shoulders. “I’d love to have a nice long reunion, but we don’t have much time.”
The magic competition—she had almost forgotten! She glanced out the window to judge the angle of the sun. “I think I’m already too late.” She reached up to touch the pretty gold heart.
“I see you found the locket,” he said. “Your father gave it to your mother as a symbol of his love.” Max smiled softly. “I cared for her, too, and hoped . . .” His voice trailed off and he paused for a moment. “ Two wizards joined by the power of love are much stronger than the sum of their parts—but she didn’t love me, and it was so clear your parents were very much in love.”
An image of Ty’s face flashed through her mind and tightened her chest, filling her with happy apprehension that stirred the nerves in her belly and made her swoon. Could what she felt for Ty be love? It didn’t seem possible, but, she suddenly realized, the locket had opened when she’d thought about him.
But what did it matter if she were falling in love? Even if he felt the same way, they could never be together. Not with her stepmother’s spell hanging over her.
She shook her head. Where had that thought come from, anyhow? Her only concern if she got free was forging a life for herself. And winning the magic competition was the first crucial step in that plan. “I wanted to win magic lessons today,” she told Max. “But now I’m too late to compete.” Not to mention still trapped.
“Nonsense,” Max said. “You might miss part of the opening ceremonies, but you can still make it.”
“Do you mean it?” She pressed her hand against her galloping heart. “Can you break my stepmother’s entrapment spells?” Hope and joy buzzed around inside her. She was finally free.
Max licked the back of his hand, and wiped his hair back.
Her heart dropped. “I guess you can’t.”
“I can’t break them.” He held her arm.“The best I can do is temporarily suspend them.” He paced around the room. “This has a better chance of working if I define a set time limit and link that to the cost.”
“The cost?”
“There’s always a cost when you alter black magic, but let me worry about that.” He looked away, as if thinking, then turned back to her. “I can release you long enough to go to the magic competition and ball, but if you’re not back home by midnight . . .” He twisted his lips. “Let’s just say it’ll be bad.”
“Bad? How bad? What will happen? You have to tell me. Will I turn into a pumpkin or something?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “There are no orange gourds involved, my dear.” His tone turned serious, “But the consequences will be bad—for both of us.”
“What are the consequences?”
He paused for a moment to think, running the back of his hand over his cheek and then, as if suddenly realizing the feline nature of this gesture, he turned his hand over to rub his chin the way humans did, using his fingers.
“If you’re not back by midnight, your stepmother’s entrapment spells will become stronger, nearly impossible to break, and I”—he lowered his voice and looked down to the ground, hesitating before continuing with the truth—“I’ll turn back into a mouse.” He spoke so quietly she could barely hear him. “Forever.”
Her chest nearly imploded.“Forever? Is that the cost?” She considered the weight of this cost.
He nodded and looked away, and she got the impression there was more he wasn’t telling her. She grabbed his hand. “Then I can’t go. The risk is too high. I can’t have you turn into a mouse forever. What if I can’t get back here in time?”
He brushed a stray hair off her cheek.“It’s worth the risk, Cinderella. And you’ll be back in time, I’m sure of it. I have faith in you.”
“Do you have time to teach me how to use this?” She held up the magic wand.
“Oh, you won’t be needing that.” He reached for it.
“Yes, I will. I barely know any magic.” She smiled sheepishly. “Well, you know that, don’t you?” She shook her head, realizing how Max had been guiding her training, even in his cat form. “You’ve seen my limitations. I won’t have a chance without a wand.”
“Cinderella,” he said, “you’re bound to make mistakes if you use a powerful instrument like this wand.”
“But I changed you from a cat to a person!”
“On purpose?” He put his hands on his hips.
She looked down. “Well, not exactly.”
“That’s because I did most of it, Cinderella. I put the magic into the wand. All you did was wave it over me.”
Her heart dropped. “Oh.”
He squeezed her arm. “You helped. You do have real magic inside you. Not everyone would have been able to complete my spell.” A fleck of dust floated in front of him in the sunbeam and he batted at it like a cat. Then, looking embarrassed, he turned to her.“ Trust yourself, Cinderella. The most powerful magic isn’t inside a wand, it’s inside you.”
Is Max serious?
Cinderella’s barely a beginner at magic. How in the world can she compete against others who’ve trained with less, um, feline wizards, and had wands their whole lives? Then again, Max seems to know a lot about magic, and even as a cat, he helped her a lot.
If you were Cinderella, what would you do?
OPTION A: Insist that Max give Cinderella the wand and then dash off to the competition. If he were that great at magic, he’d have turned himself back into a human years ago. He needed Cinderella’s help for that, even if all she did was some timely wand-waving. She needs to win those lessons, and her mother’s wand is her best chance to stand out from the crowd. Cinderella will be back by midnight to free him from the spell. If you think this is her best choice, go to section 5: Firestorm (page 143).
OPTION B: Cinderella should follow Max’s advice and leave the wand behind. Even if he’s still acting a bit feline, he’s right. She has talent as a wizard, and can even move things with her mind. Cinderella can win without the wand. If not, she will have done her best. If you think she should give it a try, without the wand, go to section 6: Balancing Act (page 177).