BLUE

Rule 21 of fae moms handbook by yours truly, ‘Never, under any circumstances, leaves a princess (or princess candidate) up to their own decisive moments. They will ruin it. Note my words, they Will. Freaking. Ruin. It.’ 

A sigh of temporary relief escaped my throat as I dusted my blue locket before clipping it in place around my—Ella’s teeny waist. 

It’s crazy how a little metal piece like this can be the source of life for fae moms but the only thing that kept it in place was nothing but a golden chain that can be taken on and off with a click on the hook. 

It almost felt as if the Star himself wanted our lockets to remind us we are replaceable. 

“Okay, any suggestions?” I asked aloud before my mind could wander into darker places. 

Herman strolled out of the shades, parchments bobbed to a furious dance around him, urging him to continue and pen ‘The End’. “Blue would go well with her silver blond tresses and well, you are Blue.”

“Very funny,” I narrowed my eyes at him, “but point taken.” Blue does complement her pale shades. Besides, I am Blue. How could Blue not wear blue? In another person’s body or not.

Fae dust swirled out of the pouch in Herman’s hand as I pictured layers of soft blue laces and frills overlapping one another, slowly building up to form the base of a gown. Wind picked up around Ella’s tattered dress, dragging it apart before breathing new life into it. 

With Herman’s instruction, a little tweak here, a little trim there and poof! The Author finally nodded his approval. His sense for gowns sometimes makes me wonder if he had been the one who had attended three years of dressmaking class back in FTAA (a.k.a. Fairy-Tale Assistance Academy) instead of me. 

“I know I’ve said this a thousand times but seriously, why haven’t you considered being a tailor instead? Imagine, ‘the Grimm’s place’,” I smiled impishly. “I would totally be your first customer!” 

Herman flicked me on the forehead without missing a beat. “Keep your daydreams to yourself. We’ve got a ball to run to, remember?”

Yeah, right. Assignment mode on. I sighed with a nod and snapped my fingers. 

Ella’s mice came right away, rolling a pumpkin the size of a leprechaun’s pot with them. Not needing to be asked, they obediently lined themselves in front of their yellowish-orange tribute and waited with a toothy grin as I casted a transformation spell over them. 

You just have to love these forever-and-ever loyal sidekicks. They always know how to make a fae mom’s job easier. 

Stumped limbs elongated and nostrils flared. Jaq the mouse, now white horse, snorted as Gus tried to suck in its chubby belly that my spell failed to conceal. I could only smile apologetically when Gus looked at me, large, round eyes pleading. 

“Sorry dear, I wasn’t procured extra fae dust for horse’s makeover service this time.”

He hung his head low, his newly grown mane covered one eye as Jaq nuzzled against him. There was nothing I could do but give the two each a soft squeeze.  

“What are you planning to do with that?” Herman asked, an eyebrow raised at the pumpkin and the two stallions. Jaq seemed happier than ever at the question. Even Gus lightened up in conspiracy. Only Herman’s still swimming in a pool of confusion. 

As usual.

“That’s for me to know and for you to guess,” I gave him a wink and threw the ball of orange into the air. 

It twirled, slowly gained speed and grew in size. Its skin turned transparent under the soft moonlight while its tendrils lengthened, leaves hardened and curled to merge into metal wheels. 

Except for its shape that remained a ghost of its former self, no one would guess it was once a pumpkin. A carriage of glass and silver manifested before us with two grand stallions—kind of—pulling its reins, stomping their hooves with equal excitement. 

A full smile broke across Herman’s face for the first time since we were paged for the night. “Impressive,” was the only word he breathed. His hand flew across the pages so fast I could barely see him dip his pen into the bottle of glimmering ink strapped to his waist. 

I grinned to myself as I climbed into the carriage after him. He paid me no attention though. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice how he had gotten into the carriage himself. 

Authors and their fear of losing ‘the zone’. As if talking out loud would scare away the little details he didn’t manage to get on papers before he opens his mouth again. It’s blasphemy to the Muse if we ignore her gifts, he would say. 

It’s the Grimm’s virus, I say. Bonkers and stubborn.

We were halfway bouncing on the bumpy road to the castle when he finally peeled his gaze from the parchments. Ella’s elated face sketched on a fresh page, a fae mom stood under rings of silver and blue stars in the background behind her. 

I scooted over for a closer inspection. Even though she pretty much merged in with the monotonous dark blue sky, what the fae mom was wearing was still hard to ignore. 

“A hood? A freaking hood? You’re making me a Blue Riding Hood?” I gasped and crossed my arms. “Seriously, I would appreciate it if you told me you planned to make me this…old, plum—” Wait, I already knew that. “—woman in a hood. Then I wouldn’t have had to wear that evil incarnated dress!” 

Herman clucked his tongue and shook his head disapprovingly. “Seriously Blue,” he mimicked my tone and tapped his pen against the wall of glass. “I appreciate the pumpkin feat but don’t you know it’s impossible for mortals to walk in glass slippers?” 

One point for the Grimm, I thought he would never notice. 

I slipped my feet out of the layered skirt, allowing him a clearer view of it. “All the more magical, don’t you agree? Readers can’t possibly know what really happened.” 

No doubt a human who weighed more than Gus would crush the slippers and have their feet punctured. For a fae mom who can float and ‘walk’ without really touching the slippers? It’s an entirely different story. Though it does come with the price of sore wings credited tomorrow. 

“What did you write about it?” I asked and peered over his hands, hood feud forgotten. It took two seconds of scanning through the parts he had ‘beautified’ to make me shoot to the roof again. 

“Shalaka Zippidi Boo? Are you for real? Who are you trying to spook there?” Would Readers even believe this as a spell?

He shrugged with a devilish grin in return, “Creativity, if you will.”

I admit, we were both so bored out of our minds with the Tales, we seemed to be the only fae-mom-Author pair that took liberties with every given chance. It’s one of Herman’s specialties to find loopholes in small details HQ can’t blame us for adapting in every assignment. 

“Lily’s totally gonna freak when she sees this.”

His grin only grew broader in reply. “Not if we send it straight to the Library.”

The villains could never outshine our Grimm here.

We barely had time to recover from melting into a puddle of laughter when Primrose zoomed in through the window. The pixie’s tiny pink frame nearly slammed right into my nose but she stopped in time, just an inch away. 

Her pixie dust didn’t though. Herman didn’t bother to mask his distaste when I whipped around and sneezed right into his face. Curses of all levels were about to set themselves free from his lips when I inhaled again and cut him short. This time he had his parchments prepared to shield his face. Too bad, I didn’t feel like sneezing at the time. 

At least not until he lowered it again.

“Dammit Blue what—!”

Primrose fluttered in between us, an army of pixie dust in tow. Herman leapt to the seat across as soon as my nose twitched, nearly hitting his head in the process. Primrose giggled her trademark ditsy pixie laugh watching our exchange. I extended a finger and pushed her a little distance away from me before she pulled out a miniature scroll from her sack of pink rosebud.

“Last of Evergreen’s details.” 

The scroll wriggled and puffed up in size the moment it landed in my hands. Before I could ask anything of her though, Primrose zipped up into the night sky without another word, leaving only a trail of pixie dust behind her. Any humans who pass by now would probably think of her as a shooting star.

“Why am I not surprised they missed out the most important part?” I mumbled while trying to cramp the Prince’s last minute details into my head. The wobbling carriage only made the task more tedious. My stomach lurched as it plunged ahead. No matter how long I’ve been in the job, reading while riding never seemed to grow on me the way it did Herman. 

The Author in question leaned casually on his knuckles and peered out of the windows. “Because it’s not the first time it happened.”

I could only groan in reply.

Ignoring my complaints, Herman continued to survey the passing town. The scent of newly extinguished candles lingered in the air, marking the departure of villagers. Because of the royal ball, none remained in their cottages, leaving the road eerily silent—enough to magnify the clip-clop of our passing. If Gus and Jaq weren’t originally mice with their night vision intact, we might have crashed into one or two of the rounded blue trees by now. 

“You know, I am thinking we will be quite late by the time we reach the castle.”

I glanced up from scribbled details of the Prince’s life condensed into a single page. Someone should write a petition to make pixies write in bigger, easier to decipher words or Lily will have to send all of the fae moms to Merlin for eye correction by the end of this decade. With me at the front of the line.

“And that’s a bad thing?” I asked, noted Herman’s not-so-innocent smile before surrendering myself to reading hell again. “Don’t disturb me if you already know how the plan should go.”

“Just confirming.” He laughed, making no effort to hide his attempt at diversion. 

Darn his flower petals.