Cinderella: Ninja Warrior (30 page)
Read Cinderella: Ninja Warrior Online
Authors: Maureen McGowan
Tags: #Fairy Tales & Folklore, #Juvenile Fiction, #Adaptations, #Interactive Adventures
Cinderella’s fists clenched. “He’ll never love you.” But did she know that for sure? Love had so far proven to possess a disappointing lack of potency, and anyway, if her stepmother could use black magic to make Ty forget her, then perhaps she could also use her magic to make Ty fall in love with Gwen.
She didn’t want to believe that. Plus, knowing Ty was out there looking for her—or at least looking for the girl who’d lost the glass shoe—made her wonder if love had poked some holes in her stepmother’s memory spell. Maybe if Ty saw her, now that he’d had a chance to recuperate from the freezing spell, he’d remember.
Gwen turned as the gong sounded. “Oh!” she said excitedly. “The prince—I should say, my future husband—is here. I must dash.” She wiggled her fingers at Cinderella in a mocking wave and skittered up the stairs.
Cinderella pulled her stool to the window, stepped up on the precarious perch, and pounded her fists on the glass, but it was so thick, there was no way she’d attract any attention, even if someone were out back to hear. She wondered if Max had been able to use her mother’s wand to turn himself into a human being yet. She tried using her mind to break the glass, but it was no use, as the panes were too thick.
Stomping and thinking, she paced the room. There had to be something she could do. She shoved her hands in her pockets and cried, “Ouch!” She pulled her hand out and sucked on the tiny cut where one of the diamonds from her hair last night had jabbed into her finger.
Diamonds . . . diamonds could cut glass.
She stepped down from the stool and stared at the jewels in her hand. Her stepmother might have trapped her down here, but she hadn’t taken away her natural talent for magic. It was a talent so strong, even the royal wizard had commented on it.
Concentrating on raising the diamonds, she held her palm out, and the gems drifted up a few inches. Feeling the magic flow through her, she caused the hard stones to swirl in a circle, building up their speed and force.
She could do this. She had to believe in herself. Her powers had grown during the competition, and so had her confidence. Never had she felt so totally and completely in control. Inhaling to prepare, she raised her eyes to the window’s thick glass, and then shot the diamonds toward it with all the force she could muster.
With a screeching sound, they pierced the glass with a hundred tiny holes. She smiled. The glass hadn’t broken, but her limited magic power might be enough to finish the job.
She concentrated on breaking the glass, and a few of the holes formed cracks. But no matter how much she believed she could do it, her magic lacked the strength and power required to break such thick glass.
If magic wouldn’t work, perhaps brute force would. She looked around for something to slam against the cracked glass. The stool was the hardest thing in her room, but the window was so high, she needed to use the stool to reach the glass.
She turned to the fire and saw the cast-iron grate. She pulled it out from under the ash, and then climbed back onto her stool. Holding the grate in both hands, she raised it high above her head and brought it forward into the glass with such force that she felt the reverberations right down to her toes.
The glass cracked, and hundreds of tiny lines flowed out like a spiderweb from the holes where each diamond was embedded. But still it didn’t break.
She lifted the grate again, drew in a deep breath, and shouted loudly as she mustered every ounce of energy she could find—from her legs, from her back, from her shoulders, from her lungs—and transferred it into her arms to slam the grate into the glass.
Her heart sank. The glass appeared to be intact. But then she heard a crackling noise. A noise like the one she heard when she tapped the film of ice that formed on her water buckets if she left them filled overnight during the winter.
A shard of glass fell, then another, and after a few more shards dropped to the floor, the entire window crumbled apart, sending tiny pieces of glass clattering everywhere.
Her heart lifted. Now all she’d have to do was get through the small space without shredding herself.
She paused for a moment to regain her composure and then raised both hands, palms forward, toward the window. The broken glass flew out into the yard, clearing her path. From her perch on the stool, she jumped up and grabbed the outer frame of the window, which was made of sharp stone.
Her fingers and forearms were outside the house. There was no magical barrier anymore. She’d done it.
Straining, Cinderella pulled herself out until her arms could bend no farther, then pushed down and lurched forward, her hands scrambling onto the gravel, her body still half inside. She searched for something to hold on to, and slipping back, panic shot through her, but she fought back, pushing down into the gravel with her arms and wiggling her body until her weight transferred onto her hips inside the frame of the small window. She twisted from side to side, working her way through the window frame, and finally felt a release of pressure. She’d made it through, and was lying on the gravel at the edge of the building.
She leaped up and ran to the front of the house. No way was she letting Ty get off this property without speaking to him. Even though his feelings had proven too weak to withstand her stepmother’s magic, her feelings hadn’t diminished, much as she’d tried to set them aside. In fact, the thought that Ty was lost to her forever had only intensified and clarified her emotions.
She loved him. And as much as she’d tried, she couldn’t shake the ache in her heart, the flutter in her stomach, the tingly feeling in her entire body at the thought of seeing him again, even if he didn’t recognize her.
The front door opened, and her heart plummeted to the soles of her feet. Ty was holding Gwendolyn’s hand, and she was beaming. Ty didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic, but Cinderella still felt as if her heart had been trampled into a million pieces.
This was wrong, so wrong. She couldn’t let Ty think Gwen was the girl he was searching for, the girl he’d loved but forgotten. She couldn’t let him believe Gwendolyn’s lies.
Cinderella stepped forward.
“Hello there,” Ty said. “ Do you live here, too?” He continued down the steps with Gwendolyn in tow. “Look—I found the girl who I was searching for.”
“Are you sure?” Cinderella’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Did she try on the slipper?”
“Better. She had the other one.” He turned to Gwendolyn, who held up a velvet bag, presumably containing Cinderella’s glass slippers.
“What if she’s tricking you?” Cinderella could barely hear herself over the pounding of her heart. “Maybe using magic?”
“That’s not possible,” Ty said as he descended a few steps. “The royal wizard, suspicious of my memory loss, cast a spell to protect me from mind control today.”
Cinderella wished the royal wizard had come with Ty. Surely he’d sense the black magic hanging over the property. Surely he could take down her stepmother in person. But he must not have realized a spell had been cast on
him
last night, too.
him
last night, too.
Even without the royal wizard’s help, she couldn’t let her stepmother win. If she couldn’t make Ty remember her, she would have to use logical reasoning.
“What if Gwen
found
the slipper?” Cinderella asked, resisting the temptation to use the word “stole,” even though that was the truth. “What if the girl you’re looking for lost
both
of her slippers?”
found
the slipper?” Cinderella asked, resisting the temptation to use the word “stole,” even though that was the truth. “What if the girl you’re looking for lost
both
of her slippers?”
“That seems unlikely,” Ty said with a frown, but he appeared to be thinking it over. “The slippers are unique and Gwendolyn remembered exactly where she lost the one I found.” Ty turned to Gwen again and wrinkled his brow as if questioning her story, or perhaps searching for memories. He shook his head. “I wish I could remember more about the ball.”
“We had a fabulous time,” Gwendolyn said, gripping his arm.
Ty shook his head. “I woke this morning with the most curious mixture of happiness and loss in my heart. I knew I’d found love, I knew I’d found the girl I wanted to marry, but the odd thing was I couldn’t remember her face, her name, how we met, or even why I’d fallen in love. But my only real clue was waking with Gwendolyn’s glass slipper in my hand.”
“How sweet that you slept with my shoe.” Gwendolyn reached out to touch his face, but he stiffened under her touch.
Rage pounded up from deep inside Cinderella and she blurted, “It’s
my
shoe.”
my
shoe.”
“What?” The prince turned toward her. He dropped Gwendolyn’s hand and strode down the rest of the stairs. Gwen skittered down behind him and reached for him again, but he pulled away.
Ty met Cinderella’s gaze and their eyes locked. She didn’t see recognition there. Not with certainty. Yet, she could see his confusion, how he knew in his heart that Gwen wasn’t the one, in spite of the “evidence.”
Cinderella stepped forward and spoke softly. “The glass slippers are mine, Ty.”
He started at her bold use of his nickname, but then nodded curtly and said, “Continue.”
“The slippers were custom-made for me by the royal wizard so I could go to the ball.” She stepped forward again.“We’ve met a few times. We were friends before I knew you were the prince. You encouraged me to enter the magic competition—”
“Stop this nonsense right now,” her stepmother called out as she thundered down the stairs. “Get away from the prince, you worthless servant girl, or I’ll turn you into a rat.”
Ty’s head snapped toward her stepmother, who dropped her raised hand and said, “Just a figure of speech.”
Narrowing his eyes, Ty turned back to Gwendolyn. “May I have the slippers, please?”
“Why?” She moved them behind her back.
“If you’ve told me the truth, the slippers will fit you. However, if
she’s
telling the truth”—he bowed his head toward Cinderella—“they’ll fit her. One way or the other, it should be easy to settle this dispute.”
she’s
telling the truth”—he bowed his head toward Cinderella—“they’ll fit her. One way or the other, it should be easy to settle this dispute.”
Gwendolyn turned toward her mother, panic stretching and tightening her forehead and mouth, and her mother gestured with her head, jerking it from Gwen toward the cobblestone path.
Cinderella gasped. If Gwen threw the slippers, they’d smash into a million pieces, and there was no way to know for sure that they’d re-form again. The magic might be wearing off. If she couldn’t try on the slippers, she had no way to prove they were hers. Gwen swung her arm and the bag flew up in a huge arc.
Cinderella used her ninja training to banish fear and panic from her mind so that she could instead focus all her energy on the bag.
She lifted her arm toward it.
Stop.
Stop.
The bag stopped six inches above the cobblestones—six inches from destruction.
“Great job!” Ty exclaimed as he stepped across the drive.“Did you say you entered the magic competition?” He bent down and snatched the bag from midair. “I’m not surprised. I’ll bet you did well.”
Cinderella stepped toward him, nerves crawling through her like spiders. “I’m still learning.”
“You’re very good.” The prince held the velvet bag close to his chest to ensure it wouldn’t fall again. “I’ve been training with the royal wizard since I was young, but I can’t imagine pulling off what you just did—especially without a wand. We should train together.”
Cinderella smiled softly, daring to hope. “I’d like that. Very much.”
Their eyes remained locked and she saw the same expression of admiration and affection she’d seen in his eyes when they first met, but it wasn’t the look he’d had in his eyes at the ball. It wasn’t even the same way he’d looked at her the second time they’d met, or the third. But his interest and admiration gave her hope that, given a chance, they’d be able to start over.
Ty stepped off the path and onto the grass. “Seems safer over here,” he said. He removed the slippers from the bag, knelt down on one knee, and held up a slipper for Cinderella. She blushed, and her heart swelled at her love for this boy. A prince, and yet so humble and kind.
She stepped out of her worn, dirty shoe and lifted her foot. Never breaking eye contact with her, Ty lightly touched her calf and her skin tingled under his fingers as her foot glided easily into the slipper.
Ty’s eyes widened, and he quickly reached for the second shoe and slipped it onto her other foot. The instant both were on, lights swirled around the slippers, as they had when they were first created, and the glass molded to hug her toes and support her feet like a second skin.
“Cinderella?” The prince looked up from her shining shoes to her face. “Cinderella. That’s your name, isn’t it?”
She nodded, but the back of her throat caught and stole her ability to make words.
He rose and took her hands in his. “I remember. I remember everything, my love.” He bent to kiss her, and excitement spread through Cinderella’s body like wind skipping through the night forest.
“No!” her stepmother yelled, and they broke their kiss. “No!”
Cinderella scrambled to remove the glass slippers; with Ty’s help, she put them back in the bag. There was no way she’d lose them again.
A bolt of lightning shot toward them and scorched the ground at their feet, sending sparks flying all around them.
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