Page 22 of Cinder's Trial

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” he barked.

“Once upon a time, people called me Agatha.” The initial shock quickly wore off, and Godmother smiled. “And you are the boy who killed his father to escape his curse.”

My eyes widened. “You killed your dad?” I wondered what tale that was associated with.

“He had good reason, dear girl. His father made a bargain with the Nixie in his swimming pool. Riches in exchange for the life born in his home, which turned out to be Levi. Unlike the original tale, where the father keeps the child far from the evil spirit, he tossed you in without a fight.”

“How do you know that?” Levi barked. “That information is classified.”

“Unfortunately, I know more than I ever wanted to.” Agatha’s lips turned down.

I glanced at Levi. “How old were you when your father gave you up?”

“Hours old, and he assumed I drowned, only the Nixie kept me alive. Took care of me. Raised me.” He sighed. “But she wouldn’t release me. Or should I say couldn’t because of the terms of the deal brokered with my father.”

My brain quickly did the math. “He had to die for you to go free.”

“Yes.”

“And in doing so, Levi broke the curse. The Nixie in the Pond hasn’t afflicted anyone since,” Agatha announced.

I blinked, trying to organize my thoughts on all this new information. For one, Levi wasn’t like the other Grimm Knights, who were people caught by the curse, but in a good, not bad way, and had been turned into heroes, the kind that thrived on tracking, hunting, and saving the world. For another, Levi had broken his curse, cured the world of it. But how was that possible?

“Why did his refusal to follow the story break it, but others, like me, who didn’t marry the prince, are still dealing with it?”

At my query, Agatha shrugged. “I’m sure there’s a logical reason. However, I couldn’t tell you what it is. I can only assume each story has a different condition. In his case, the story went off on a different tangent from the beginning and culminated in his father’s death.”

“Who died?” Killian suddenly appeared behind Levi. “And who is this? I didn’t know we had a guest.”

“Move back, Your Highness. I’ve yet to ascertain if this intruder poses a threat.” Levi still had his gun pointed.

I slapped the barrel. “Stop it with the macho-man stuff. Agatha is my fairy godmother, and she wouldn’t hurt me. She wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“And yet I’ve inadvertently done so.” She sounded so sad.

“It’s not your fault the Grimm Effect forces you to act.” I patted her arm.

“I’m so tired of it, though. We must find a way to put more of the stories back where they belong, in their books,” Godmother emphatically stated.

A weird statement, but then again, could anything about this be categorized as normal?

“You’re the fairy godmother?” For some reason, Killian retreated and made the sign of the cross.

Odd until the realization hit me. “He’s afraid you’re here to make us get married.”

“Oh dear me no. I doubt that would break the Little Ash Girl curse.” Godmother shook her head.

“What would, then?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I mean jilting the prince obviously didn’t. I’ve also seen some Cinderellas refuse to attend the ball, and that had no effect.” Agatha tapped her chin.

“Someone has to die.” Levi’s stark assessment.

“Not everything needs to be killed,” I retorted.

“And yet didn’t killing the huntsman solve the Little Red Cap curse?” he countered.

“Yeah, I’d rather not have to croak,” I huffed.

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