Page 1080 of One More Kiss

Curse of the Fallen Fairy

Angela Sanders & Tina Glasnek

Chapter1

All thingsmagical came with a cost, a contract even—be it to turn a gourd into a coach, or to make a vampire into one as white as snow. Nothing happened without the price of magic, or the wands wielded to grant those wishes.

In all the splendor that one could only discover in the Kingdom of Wisteria, with its tall ivory towers, the realm beckoned the gaze of immortals and men alike. In the shadows of such, magic buzzed, not the magic of imps and pixies, or even that of trolls and goblins, but of fairies.

Today’s feat only required a bit of cow tipping and a large splash of mud-manure mixture. I should have moved out of the way, but lo and behold, customer satisfaction demanded my compliance. After all, it would have been utterly foolish to allow a princess to be washed in the stinkiest of dung.

And magical manure didn’t allow itself to be washed away with more magic, or even soap and water. No, only the potion of witch hazel, virgin tears, and the sound of a cat paw falling could be administered by the Chief of Fairy (and Chief of most things magical within Wisteria) herself, Griselda. Better known in fairy circles as the Head Fairy Godmother.

A shiver of unease coursed through me, mingling with my despair.

Just as easy as an enchantment could come with a thought and a flick of my wand, it also brought the burden of the Fairy Godmother Guild.

With a loud whoosh, I half-stumbled and half-floated into the ornate courtyard, surrounded by the prettiest of gardens—its intricately carved beams wrapped with always-in-bloom roses and peonies. The sunlight shone brightly, and without a cloud in the picturesque sky, it should have been breathtaking.

But it wasn’t just my surroundings that determined the beauty. Perhaps if those mingling about had more compassion, my heart wouldn’t feel quite so heavy. The garden was filled with other fairy godmothers, including those in waiting. Their colorful garbs in an array of pastels, and their wands, either in hand or sheathed at their hips. The elders hid their faces behind their stoic, dark-colored veils, but the newbies busied themselves with gossip, idle chatter, and instead, hid behind their hands.

Those around parted, making room for my entrance, smelling my approach before they noticed me. Today, I found it quite horrible, really. One priggish client after another, always a gimme, gimme, gimme—take, take, take. They sought the easy way out of their problems for a golden crown coin.

My shoulders slumped, causing my blue-streaked black wavy hair to again fall into my face, limiting my vision. Surely, if I raised my hand, I’d still find a clod of dirt, twigs, and horse shit keeping it all in place. Life stunk. I stunk. My dress of sparkles shone naught, as if all my thoughts rose to the surface, and even magic couldn’t hide the douche cannon of despair.

They giggled, the gaggle of crones. “She certainly never should have become a fairy godmother. Just look at her.” The tallest of the current trio shook her crimson hair until I thought her head would roll from atop her shoulders. Her friend, of course, only giggled behind her cobalt-blue gloved hand. They’d never had to dive into muck and grime, or cow dung. Of course not—they were far too delicate and “prestigious” for such arduous duties. Ruin their hair or perfect manicures? Pfft. No, they were too busy torturing others, while believing themselves to be better than nearly everyone else.

I’d been a fairy godmother long enough to know who the “mean girls” were, those who always seemed to get the cushy jobs, and then others like me who only wished for good to come to those who “truly” deserved it. Was it too terrible of me to believe that evil shouldn’t benefit from the goodness of magic? That love should have meaning and not have magic at its root?

Never question authority, I thought and sighed inwardly, wishing I could say something to make a difference—anything. But, no—if I wanted to keep my wings fluttering in the air and my wand available for the wishing, I had to keep my mouth shut, hunker down, and be the best fairy godmother I could. Rumors and snide remarks be damned. I’d dealt with it most of my life. I should be used to it by now.

I glanced at the large statue in the middle of the hall, which praised just that unquestioning spirit. It was best not to make waves in this tsunami of an institution—one like me was sure to be flattened like a chocolate-chip pancake—syrup added only for fun.

“Did you lose your wand again?” the blonde fairy taunted, snickering alongside her friends.

Magic—a fairy’s magic, anyway—existed only through our wands, and if I lost it again, well, the Guild would surely tar and feather me with corvid feathers, the most hated of birds. I thought them mysterious, even somewhat misunderstood. But the Guild’s symbolic bird was a hummingbird—as we were to work quickly, silently, and scarcely seen. Better than the dodo bird, right? I’d often wondered where the goddess Inanna fit into that sort of magic—the magic of wands? She, the patron goddess of fairies, seemed to remain silent, too. Perhaps even complicit?

“Last week it was spiders, now she’s bathing in bull crap.” The most wanton of Fairies in Waiting, Nissa, dabbled in all things male. We weren’t certain if she’d misinterpreted the tale of The Princess and the Frog, or only had a taste for licking poles like lollies.

“At least I’m not eating a bull’s penis.” I couldn’t contain my jab or the ice-blue daggers shooting from my eyes. Okay, maybe slut-shaming wasn’t what Fairy was about, but right then, I didn’t care. This was not an even playing field, and the guild pitted each of us against the other. I’d once heard a human refer to it as “working in a call center.” The hellacious period of asking to assist in the shortest time possible. A fast food of wishes.

Order up. I wished for nothing more than to take my wand and ram it straight up her—

A loud buzzing, like angry murder hornets sounded, interrupting my thoughts. “Not again.” I heard the summons come through my wand as the head fairy godmother called.

“Tatiana, I’m waiting.” Griselda’s voice was loud and clear this time, her tone grating.

“I’m on my way.” I huffed as I half-ran and half-flew down the black-and-white marbled, checkerboard floor of the Fairy Castle, leaving the three vicious fairies, open-mouthed, and speechless in my wake. Good riddance.

I wondered what I’d done this time. It was always something with the Fairy Godmother Guild. Just because my mother had gone dark many years ago, didn’t mean I would, too. I hadn’t been in contact with the woman in over a decade! But, it didn’t matter to the powers that be—or to the cackling hens who attempted to make my life miserable. No. I’d been living beneath my mother’s shadow since she’d broken her wand and lost her wings. Now, I was lucky if I were ever assigned a job, as only a scant few trusted me to perform even the smallest or simplest of wishes, and I was constantly receiving horrible assignments and the stink-eye from nearly everyone within the kingdom. All because of the one who’d borne me. If that wasn’t pathetically poetic, I didn’t know what was.

I finally reached the Fairy Godmother Guild’s inner sanctum and took a breath. Heaving a sigh, I hurried up the fifteen steps to the looming concrete mansion that appeared more like a prison. Some days, it felt like one.

“Tatiana,” came her persistent, gravelly voice once more.

Dammit! I must have done something dreadful for Griselda to be so freaking impatient. Or, she’d been listening to the rumor mill again, which was likely.

Oh, well. I proceeded through the double-doored, stained-glass entrance and into the grand foyer. Griselda’s office was just down the main corridor on the right. I greeted a few godmothers with a bright smile on my way and received scathing glances in return.

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