I put my face back down in my pillow and tried to fall asleep, tried to stop the emotions that squeezed me. I made myself think of the positives: having no friends would make it easy to move to my grandma’s in December.
Well, not really. Grandma didn’t want footprints, let alone boarders, in her house. After she found out about tonight, she was going to harp on my criminal past for as long as I lived with her. She would probably count her possessions every night to make sure I didn’t pocket something.
There were no positives to this.
I heard a noise, like something tiny clearing its throat. I looked up. The room had a dim glow that hadn’t been there before, and when I glanced at the end of my bed I saw what looked like a six-inch leprechaun doll standing there.
A voice with a thick brogue accent said, “I must be at the right place. There’s the damsel crying her eyes out, but no bloomin’ fairy. I should have known that dosser would be late.” My first thought was that Nick had come into my room and was hiding at the end of my bed with a puppet in an attempt to cheer me up. He used to do that sort of thing with Kendall when she came for visits. Her Beanie Baby cat would have conversations with her about his plans to conquer the world. I wasn’t twelve though, and I wasn’t in the mood for these sorts of games. Even if I was glad that Nick cared.
“Just what I need right now,” I said dryly, “a leprechaun.”
“I’m short on gold,” he said, “so it won’t do you any good to ask for it.”
45/356
“Of course you are. You wouldn’t be my leprechaun if you weren’t broke.” I picked up my pillow and chucked it toward the end of the bed.
The leprechaun ducked as the pillow flew over his head, which was pretty amazing considering I didn’t see Nick’s hand holding the doll anywhere. Were there strings somewhere?
The leprechaun stood back up and pointed a finger at me—a perfectly formed, movable finger. “Attacking a magical creature is grounds for a curse, you know.”
“What …” I leaned closer. The doll’s eyes and mouth were actually moving. It was impossible, but I was watching it happen.
“Just because your life is right pathetic doesn’t mean you’re excused from good behavior.” The leprechaun reached up and straightened the tiny green bowler hat perched on his head. “I’ve turned people into pebbles for less.” I blinked at him. He was still there. I blinked again. “I’m asleep.” The leprechaun surveyed me with furrowed brows. “I don’t mean to contradict you, but you seem fairly awake—moving around and talking and all.” He kept watching me. “The constant blinking is a little odd though.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I’m asleep.” I dug my fingernails into the back of my hand to prove my point. In dreams you didn’t feel pain. But I felt it now. Insistent sharp jabs.
The leprechaun frowned. “Are you away in the head, lass?” I let out a shrill gasp and sat back so hard I banged my back into my headboard. “You’re a leprechaun!” He folded his arms. “Yeah, real observant, you are.”
“Leprechauns are real?”
46/356
“That logic would follow, wouldn’t it?” He huffed and cocked his head at me. “You’re not the brightest star in the constellation, are you, lass?”
I shrunk back on the bed, glancing around to see if there were more of them in the room. My dresser and bookshelf were clear. Nothing sat on the carpet but my shoes. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”
“Wasting my time, apparently. Aye, fairy godmothers are an unreliable bunch. And yours is worse than most.” He sat down on my bed-spread with a thump and kicked his legs out in front of him. His green suit was embroidered with leaves, but a couple of buttons were missing and the sleeves looked worn. Scuff marks lightened the front of his boots, and one heel was chipped.
A down-and-out leprechaun was sitting on my bed.
“You wouldn’t have something to eat around here, would you?” he asked. “A Ding Dong, perhaps? I’m partial to those.” Then the other thing he said clicked in my mind. “I have a fairy godmother?” I could barely wrap my mind around the idea. I would have asked more questions, but a fountain of sparklers erupted in the middle of the room.
My fairy godmother was coming. With my luck, she had probably come to yell at me like my parents had.
The sparklers winked out with a puff, and a teenage girl with long pink hair, sunglasses, and translucent wings appeared in my room.
She wore a violet miniskirt and thigh-high black boots. She held a silver wand, and a lavender sequined purse hung from her shoulder. I could already tell she was stunning even before she slipped her sunglasses onto her head. Somehow I hadn’t expected my fairy godmother to be so young. Or to be wearing frosty purple eye shadow.
47/356
Instead of yelling at me for my police encounter, she smiled, and when she spoke, her voice had the same tinkling sound as wind chimes. “Greetings, Tansy. I’m Chrysanthemum Everstar, your fairy godmother.”
“Fair godmother,” the leprechaun called from the end of the bed.
Chrysanthemum’s gaze shot over to the leprechaun, and her eyes widened in unhappy surprise. Her voice was no longer sweetness; it was as sharp as glass. “Clover, what are you doing here?” The leprechaun crossed his arms. “I’m your assistant. I’m assisting.”
Chrysanthemum thrust her wand downward in agitation. A stream of glittery lights shot across my floor and flashed up the length of my wall. For a moment the room lit up like a glowing candle.
Chrysanthemum walked toward Clover, her hand on her hip. “I told you I didn’t want your help.”
“Which means for once we agree. I would rather play nursemaid to a viper than help you, but unfortunately the Unified Magical Alliance scheduled me to be your assistant. Again.” He shook his head in disgust. “They couldn’t just punish me for abandoning my last assignment and be done with it. No, they had to resort to slow, aggravating torture.”
Chrysanthemum turned back to me, her smile decidedly forced.
“Ignore that bitter little man on the bed. He’s of no consequence.” Except that he could turn me into a pebble if he was mad. My gaze ricocheted between them.
“As I was saying,” Chrysanthemum continued, her voice like wind chimes again, “my name is Chrysanthemum Everstar, but you may call me Chrissy. My assistant, on the other hand, is only allowed to call me
‘The Most High Boss’ or ‘Your Excellence of Fairyness.’ ” 48/356
“You don’t have to worry about supplying names for me,” Clover called to her. “I’ve plenty of me own for you.” Chrissy flicked her wand and sparks flew around the room, a couple of them nearly hitting the leprechaun, but she kept her gaze on me. “Since I’m your fairy godmother, I’ve come to grant you three wishes—”
“She’s technically only a fair godmother,” the leprechaun called,
“because her grades in fairy school were only average.” He folded his arms across the front of his worn green suit. “Go ahead, ask her if she can prolong time properly. She can’t.” Chrissy turned and glared at him. “Which doesn’t matter since very few mortals ever wish to prolong time.” She flung her wand hand in my direction, and sparks zinged past me. “Do you really think Tansy wants this moment to go on forever? Look at her. Her eyes are blood-shot, her face is swollen—she basically looks like something a troll re-gurgitated. Who would want that every day for the rest of their lives?” Chrissy took a deep breath and her pale wings fluttered. She tapped the end of her wand into her palm and turned back to me. Her voice was softly lilting again. “Now, back to spreading happiness. You’re allowed three wishes. Well, at least you will be once you sign the paperwork.” She shot Clover a challenging look. “I assume that since you’re my assistant, you have a copy of the contract?” He stepped toward us, reaching into his suit pocket. “Of course I do.” Not finding it in the first pocket, he checked another, then another, until he pulled out a tiny roll of parchment. He stepped to the end of the bed and handed it to me. “There you are. All in perfect order.