Read Cinderella: Ninja Warrior Online
Authors: Maureen McGowan
Tags: #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adaptations, #Interactive Adventures
Cinderella: Ninja Warrior (24 page)
“I can’t do this.” She gestured behind her to the hoops course she was expected to complete blindfolded. “Maybe if I could use a wand.” She nervously chewed on the inside of her lip to keep from telling him about finding her mother’s wand hidden in the woods, or about her godfather, who also happened to be her cat. Sharing those secrets would lead to questions—questions she couldn’t answer without turning Ty into stone. She bit her lip. “I really need to win this.”
“Want a dance with the prince that badly, huh?”
She looked up, expecting to find him mocking her, but his face read as though he’d just received the best news of his life.
She laughed. “You know I don’t care about that. I’m here for the magic lessons.”
He dropped her hand and backed up a few inches. “Of course. Yes. Of course.” As he dipped his head, sunlight glinted off the curls that had escaped his cap.
“What are you doing on the field?” she asked. “I thought only competitors and wizards were allowed out here.”
She heard the crowd roar and glanced over her shoulder. One of the wand group had just landed a pumpkin on the top of a very high pole. She was no longer sure she would have won in that group.
“I know some people.” He looked down and scraped the sole of his shoe along the dirt, and she noticed his heels were sticking out the ends of the too-small shoes.
“You’re in uniform. Do you have messages to deliver today, to people in the crowd?”
His cheeks reddened and he looked up to the left before answering. “Not exactly, but I am working.”
She stepped closer to him. “I hope the royal family appreciates you.” But they likely didn’t. Even if they didn’t treat him as badly as her stepmother treated her, they couldn’t even supply him with a properly fitted uniform.
“Since you’re here”—he stepped forward—“can I assume you’re also going to the ball?”
“In this?” She touched the hem of the shirt Max had made her.“This is all I’ve got to wear. Hardly the latest in formal wear.”
“You’ll attract attention, regardless of fashion,” he said.
“Attention, yes,” she said with a grin, “but the right kind? Everyone will stare at me if I show up like this.”
He pushed his cap back. “You might have a point there, but I’m sure there’s a solution. Someone will loan you a gown. In fact, I borrowed this uniform from someone.” He looked at her, almost pleading. “Please don’t let your attire get in the way of your chance to dance with . . . with the prince.”
She tried to hide her smile. It seemed to her that he hoped for a dance himself, but was too shy to ask.“Who cares about a silly prince? If I do go to the ball, the only boy I want to dance with is you.”
He beamed. “Do you really mean that?”
“Absolutely.”
The side of his mouth cocked up, making a dimple in one cheek. “Well, just remember what I told you—the prince isn’t such a bad guy.”
“All evidence to the contrary.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“What do you mean?”
“You work for him, right?”
He nodded, but looked slightly awkward, as if he might be hiding something. She hoped she’d have time to get to the bottom of that.
“Then I think he should take better care of his employees.” Cinderella gestured toward him. “Your pants are about five inches too short and your shoes don’t fit.”
“Oh.” He ran his hand over the light blond stubble on his chin. “This isn’t the prince’s fault. He—I—had to borrow this and get changed in a hurry to come out here to see you.”
“Do you mean you had to change out of your beggar disguise?”
He started. “Something like that.”
She pushed some stray hairs behind her ear. Ty’s clothing changes were perplexing.
“Hey.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black satin ribbon. “Would you like me to tie your hair back so it won’t get in the way for the next events?”
“Oh, yes, please.”
She turned, lifted her hair, and wondered where he’d found such a fine ribbon, but the thought of asking vanished when his fingers brushed her neck, sending warm shivers through her.
He smoothed back her hair and tightly tied the ribbon as if he were quite practiced at the task. Finished, he let his hands fall to her shoulders for a moment.
Trumpets signaled that the wand group’s pumpkin-lifting event had concluded, and Cinderella glanced up at the leaderboard. She was still on it, but had dropped to eleventh. She’d need a stellar performance in this next event, yet it still seemed impossible. She studied the hoops again and twisted her lips. Anxiety twisted her belly, too.
Ty’s hand enveloped hers again, but not even his touch could calm her this time. Not when she was about to be a spectacular failure.
She studied the hoops, high up in the air and scattered over the field. The challenge was to throw tiny balls through those hoops but without using her eyes. It seemed impossible. However, she remembered a time when Max had climbed on her head and put his paws over her eyes while she was tossing chestnuts into a bucket one night. At the time, she’d thought he was doing it for attention, but now wondered if it had been a training technique.
Ty bent closer and put his lips close to her ear. “You can do this, Cinderella. It’s just a matter of concentration and focus. Memorize where the hoops are, and then, once you’re blindfolded, let your senses take control.” He ran a hand lightly down her arm. “Just close your eyes and focus.”
She did, but all her senses could focus on was Ty: the height of his lean, strong body next to hers, the caress of his hands, the warmth of his breath as he spoke softly.
“What are your senses telling you?” he asked.
Heat burned her cheeks. No way could she tell him the truth.
“Focus,” he said.“What do you hear? Which way is the wind blowing? How far away are the stands?”
She took a deep breath and blocked out the shivery deliciousness of Ty’s attention. The rest of the arena slowly came into focus in her mind’s eye. The wind was light, blowing from east to west across the arena, almost perpendicular to the hoops. The nearest stands were twenty-two—no, twenty-three feet away, and the scent of a sausage hit her nostrils. A man in the front row burped.
Grinning, she opened her eyes and turned to Ty. “You’re right. If I focus, I can feel things around me.”
He gently squeezed her arm. “I knew it. I just knew it. There’s strong magic inside you, Cinderella. Just let it guide you. Trust yourself. Believe in yourself.”
“Thank you.” She looked into his eyes and felt the strangest conflicting sensations. It was as if she were melting, yet becoming stronger at the same time. Stronger than she’d felt in her entire life. She could do this. She reached up to touch his face, then, realizing the boldness of her gesture, pulled away.
He caught her hand in his, held it, and bent to place a soft kiss on her cheek. “Good luck,” he whispered. “I wish I could stay, but if I don’t get back soon, I’ll be missed.”
Ty dropped her hand and stepped back, and she felt lost, as if something had been sucked from inside her, leaving a vacuum. “Can you come back before the next event?”
“I’m not sure.” He looked down, then back up. “My duties.”
“Of course.” She’d been so silly. He was a servant of the royal family. He couldn’t just drop everything because she needed him.
He bent down toward her, softly placed a kiss on her lips, and she felt as if her body had lifted from the ground. She rubbed one foot along the turf to be sure she was wrong.
“Come to the ball.” He sent her a wickedly powerful and dimpled smile that shot straight into her heart.
“I’ll try.”
He nodded, then he turned to run back to the entrance of the arena.
“Who was that?” asked a tall girl in pigtails standing next to her.
“My friend.” She had a friend. Her insides warmed at the words, but she couldn’t think about Ty right now. It was time to focus on hoops, distances, and trajectories. She’d need to utilize a variety of tricks, depending on the weights of the balls and the wind speed as she made each throw.
“He’s kind of cute,” the girl said. “But you’re nuts to let a servant boy kiss you.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m holding out for the prince.”
Cinderella said nothing, but simply nodded at the girl and then excused herself to focus on the hoops course and the daunting task ahead of her. Nothing—even setting this girl straight—was more important than winning the competition.
Lost in the concentration of preparation, she jumped when someone nudged her. Her number had been called, and she stepped forward to let the wizard’s assistant put a blindfold over her eyes. It didn’t appear or feel thick, but the fabric was clearly enchanted; it quickly molded to her face, leaving her in complete and total darkness.
The assistant led her forward and then set her hand on the basket of balls. She suddenly realized she didn’t even have any idea where the other competitors’ scores lay, or how many points she’d need to do well; she’d been so distracted by Ty and then studying the course. Perhaps it was better not to know. Better to concentrate only on the hoops, the balls, and the task at hand.
A bell rang. It was her time to begin, and behind the darkness of her blindfold she pictured the heights and sizes of each hoop and their locations on the field. She picked up a ball, felt its weight and rubbery soft surface in her fingers, and then lobbed it, underhanded, toward the closest of the hoops.
A horn sounded. She’d missed.
Come on, Cinderella,
she admonished and then quickly encouraged herself.
You can do this. Concentrate. Have confidence in your abilities. Believe in yourself.
she admonished and then quickly encouraged herself.
You can do this. Concentrate. Have confidence in your abilities. Believe in yourself.
She picked up another ball, stood very still, focused, and then tossed it higher and farther, aiming for one of the mid-field hoops blocking the path to the ones at the back.
A cheer rang out from the crowd; it was so loud she almost didn’t hear the bell signaling her success. She’d done it. If she had hit the hoop, she thought, she would have only scored four points, but that hoop would drop out of the way and clear her path to the ones yielding higher points downfield.
Four more chances and the time was ticking away. How much of it had passed? She wished she’d thought of some method to keep track of time. It wouldn’t do for the clock to run out before she’d thrown all six of her balls.
She picked up another and concentrated on one of the rings at the far end of the field. It alone was worth twenty points and was one that no contestant thus far had attempted. But she could feel the ring’s location, as if it were sending her vibrating messages.
Here I am. Here I am.
Here I am. Here I am.
Not confident she’d make the distance with an underhand throw, she wound up, stepped forward, and used her entire body’s force to hurl the rubber ball at its target.
The crowd gasped, realizing which hoop she’d aimed for, and she instantly remembered the rule that contestants were immediately out of this round as soon as they missed two targets. If she missed, she was done with this event.
The collective gasp became a cheer and the bell sounded. She’d made it.
She pushed aside her joy and pride, ignored the roar and chanting of the crowd, and picked up another ball. She was going to aim for another of the hoops blocking the path to higher-scoring ones.
She lined up and threw. The crowd went wild and she could almost swear she’d heard two bells ringing. Yes, given the angle she’d thrown, it was possible the ball had sailed through two hoops. If she remembered the rules correctly, she’d score double for each. Pride swelled in her chest, but she couldn’t rest on her laurels or get overconfident.
She threw the remaining balls, hitting her target each time, and then waited for someone to remove her blindfold. But it turned transparent and fell from her face on its own.
Blinking against the sunlight, she shielded her eyes and looked up to the scoreboard. Sixty-four points! Even some of her fellow contestants were clapping her on the back.
She scanned the sidelines for Ty, but couldn’t find him. All she wanted was to see him again.
If she won the competition, she would have to share a dance with the prince, but she could suffer through that if it meant she would see Ty at the ball.
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