Sinful Cinderella

I snap awake. The attic is nothing but dark shapes and shadows. I was dreaming about Papa. He was shaking my shoulder and laughing. “Get up, Cinder-lazy, it’s time to go!” His smile warmed me through, like broth on a winter evening.

I roll out of bed and check the window. The stars are out thick but I spot a stray carriage turning up a nearby street and two old women chatting on their doorstep. It can’t be too late.

I load my arms with the bundled cloth, the decanter of white magic, the silver spoon, and a candle to see my way. I hurry down the attic stairs, smiling because I just saw my father. As real and touchable as my own skin. He believes in me. He wants me to go.

“I can do this, Papa,” I say. “I know I can.”

I check the time on a standing clock in the hall. Just after nine. All right, so I’ll be atrociously late. But I’m going! If Papa thinks I can, I’ll have enough white magic to do it. Right?

I bustle out the door that leads to the courtyard behind the house. I’m so excited I feel like singing. Before Papa woke me, I was having an odd dream about riding to the ball inside a pumpkin which my rats pulled behind them like a coach. Weird, of course, but it gave me a wild idea.

Let’s see if this white magic is worth its mettle!

The courtyard is long and narrow, one end open to the street behind us. The pumpkin patch lies to the right, behind a short iron fence. A tangle of vines and curling leaves crawling around the bright orange pumpkins. I pick the largest I can find and carry it to the yard, brushing off the dirt before I set it down on the cobblestones.

Transportation comes first. It won’t matter how fabulous I look if I can’t go anywhere. The palace is six miles away, too far to walk on foot. And I’m sure every rentable coach has been taken by now.

A pumpkin it is.

I crouch beside the pumpkin and clink the top off the decanter. I pour out a spoonful of white magic and tip the spoon over the pumpkin. It pools into the depression created by the stalk. “A magnificent carriage,” I say. And wait.

Nothing.

I blow the air out of my cheeks. “Darn it.” I pour another spoonful. “A magnificent carriage!” I say louder. The white liquid rises a bit higher in the hollow.

Still nothing.

Hmm.... I’m not discouraged yet. I trust the white magic, it has never failed me. Maybe I should leave off the word ‘magnificent’.

“All right. Just a carriage.” I add a third spoonful and the white liquid runs down the grooves of the pumpkin. It begins to sparkle....

I jump back in joyous anticipation. The pumpkin glitters, swells, turns white as a pearl – and stops.

I start to laugh. “What?” I’ve got a big, white pumpkin, half my height, with a little door in the center. But it’s working. It’s working!

Three more spoonsful – “A magnificent carriage!” - and the pumpkin blossoms into the most beautiful white coach I have ever seen, complete with gold embellishments, cushioned benches, and a high seat in front for a driver. It’s amazing. It fills the whole courtyard and almost seems to glow. I just stand there gaping at it before I remember that time is precious.

Horses, that’s next. I dash back to my attic and scoop up Toil and Trouble. As I’m rushing down again, I explain what I plan to do and promise to change them back as soon as I can. I can’t say they look thrilled about it but they don’t try to wriggle away from me.

In the courtyard, I lower the spoonful of magic to their tiny mouths. They sniff at it, whiskers quivering, before reluctantly lapping it up. When one spoon doesn’t work, I feed them a second and then a third and then a fourth. The rats twinkle and before my eyes grow into gorgeous white stallions. Even with bridles! They paw the ground awkwardly, as if testing their long legs and hooves. I pat Trouble’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetie.”

I check the crystal decanter. Oh dear. A whole inch of white magic is gone. Only one inch left. I hope it will be enough.

A driver.... That’s going to be hard. For one thing, I don’t have another animal. And the thought of creating a human from an animal sounds absolutely creepy... and somehow forbidden.

Let me think on that. In the meantime, I’ll use a little magic on myself. I need the enhancements I planned. Qualities I hope will make me irresistible to the prince.

I pour myself a spoonful. “Charming,” I say and swallow it. I take another spoon for good measure. One never seems to be enough.

Two more spoons for “Graceful.” Two more for “Alluring.” And finally, I swallow three spoonsful and say, “Whatever the prince desires most.”

The vagueness of this worries me. I’m not sure if the white magic is capable of knowing what I don’t. But the sparkles buzz warm in my chest which means it must be working.

Not much left in the bottle now. Maybe two spoonsful? That won’t be enough for a coachman. Maybe I can grab a fellow off the street and pay him from my meager wages.

It better be enough for my dress.

Feeling a bit nervous, I stand the roll of cloth against a wheel of the carriage. No need for the silver spoon this time. I pour the last of the magic straight onto the fabric and say, “A beautiful, black ball gown.”

I wait.

Not a single sparkle.

And the white magic is gone.

I begin to pace quickly. Drat! Darn it! Papa made me too sure I would have enough magic. I should have asked for a plain carriage or left off ‘graceful’ as one of my enhancements. I should have held back that tantrum yesterday which cost me the last few spoons that I need. All of that would be better than the option facing me.

There’s only one way I’ll get to this ball now. Only one person, one creature who can help me. I’m going to have to call on her. The crazy woman.

I call her Godnutter.