I may not be the most observant person in the world, but I know there was a wall there earlier. Now the garden opens up into a cave, lit with tiny candles that run along a narrow ledge. Like runway lights just above my head. I mean, it’s a cave! Who keeps a cave in their garden?
The stone wall forms a tunnel and the candles snake around the gradual curve of the cave. The girls must be pretty far ahead, but they make enough noise that I’m not worried about getting lost. I just need to follow the giggles.
But is this a smart thing to do? If I knew what fairy tale I’m in, this would be a lot easier. This all seems a little familiar, but something about the scenario feels off. I guess the easiest way to decide what to do is to ask: What would the pixie want me to do?
And then do the opposite.
The pixie wants me to follow my “sisters”. He’s practically dangling a carrot in front of me, just inside the mouth of the cave. He knows I’m curious. And what’s more exciting than a tunnel in a fairy tale?
But I’m not the same girl he trapped over the summer. I can’t afford to be that girl. I’ve changed and this time I’m going to smart about this.
I tug impatiently at my cap sleeves. This would be so much easier if I knew what fairy tale this was! Then I’d know how to stick to the story.
Okay, Ivy. Think this through. The princesses are eloping, so there must be some guys involved. Guys that are nothing like
I’m guessing. No girl gets twitterpated over a guy like Ferguson,
even if he does have dashing, classic good looks. And we’re all dressed-up like
we’re going to a ball, but I’m sure this isn’t Cinderella. No one’s asked me to
scrub any chamber pots, thank goodness.
But there must be dancing involved. There were ballet shoes in my closet. Or there’s a party at the very least. Some place for the girls to meet boys. No, there’s no doubt—the fairy tale is happening somewhere in the cave.
My thoughts go back to
Poor, stupid, innocent Ferguson.
There’s nothing I can do for him from this side. The twins drugged him enough
to keep him out for the whole night. My best chance of helping him will
probably be in a few hours, once the drug has had some time to wear off. Maybe
I can come back here a little early, wake him up, and get him out of here
before anyone notices. I’m not sure what the king will do if the prince runs,
but it has to be better than the contractually agreed-upon execution he has
planned. A particularly loud snort comes from the common room. What an idiot.
I turn back to the cave and take a deep breath. Okay, then. I’ve made my decision. I’m going to a cave party.