Cinders and Sparks: Fairies in the Forest

The handle turned in her hand, the door opened and Hansel raced past her and disappeared down the hallway.

‘Hello?’ Cinders called. ‘Is anyone home?’

She turned on a lamp to get a better look at the place, which appeared to be empty. In the living room there was a fireplace and in front of it was one big chair, one medium-sized chair and one little chair. Walking into the kitchen, she saw a large wooden table. Placed round it was one big chair, one medium-sized chair and one little chair.

‘Would you look at that!’ Sparks bounded up on to the smallest chair, walked round in a circle and plopped his red, fluffy tail down on the comfy cushion. ‘Perfectly Sparks-sized.’

Still not altogether sure about being in someone else’s house uninvited, Cinders tapped an uncertain finger on the arm of the biggest chair. It was awfully late and she was awfully tired. It had been a peculiar day to say the least. She was only having a sit-down, after all. Surely no one would mind?

‘Good golly gosh, that’s a comfy chair,’ she gasped as she sank into the cushion. She could have closed her eyes and gone to sleep right there and then.

‘Cinders! Sparks!’

Quick as a flash, Cinders and her doggy pal ran off to find out what was wrong with Hansel.

‘Hansel! Even I know you shouldn’t wear your shoes in bed!’

The bothersome boy was in the bedroom, in a great big bed with the covers tucked up to his chin.

‘It’s so soft,’ he said, plucking off his hat and placing it on the bedside table. ‘And look, there’s one for each of us! It’s as if they knew we were coming.’

Sure enough, just like in the kitchen and the living room, the bedroom had one big bed, one medium-sized bed and one little bed. And Cinders was awfully tired …

‘I hate to agree with Hansel, but I think he’s got the right idea here,’ Sparks said, making himself comfortable in the smallest bed. ‘We’ll sleep here tonight and start out for Fairyland in the morning. No point trotting off through the forest half asleep, is there?’

‘What about the people who own this house?’ Cinders asked, gazing at the medium-sized bed with its big fat pillows and fluffy white blankets.

‘We’ll leave them a nice note,’ Sparks declared.

‘Everyone loves getting a nice note,’ Hansel said, already dozing. ‘Come on, Cinders. Who would send us back out into the forest in the middle of the night?’

‘Well, King Picklebottom for one,’ she replied. ‘My stepmother for another. And all the people you’ve managed to annoy in the village, including your own sister.’

‘All very good points we should discuss in the morning,’ Hansel muttered sleepily, rolling over and turning out the light. ‘Goodnight, Cinders.’

A tap at the window made her jump, but it was only Mouse, keen to find out what was happening inside.

‘I think you should get comfortable,’ Cinders said, opening the window and giving him a scratch between his rather large ears. ‘Looks like we’re staying here for the night.’

Mouse squeaked happily and curled up underneath the low cottage window.

Cinders climbed into the middle bed, Hansel and Sparks already snoring on either side of her. Maybe a couple of hours’ kip was a good idea, and then they could start out fresh first thing in the morning.

‘Just one day away from Fairyland,’ she muttered as she closed her eyes. ‘And finding out who my mother really was.’

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Back in Cinders’s little pink cottage in the woods, no one was sleeping.

‘I’m very sorry,’ Cinders’s dad said, scratching his head, ‘but could you run that past me again?’

Prince Joderick Jorenson Picklebottom took a deep breath and started to tell his story for the third time. ‘Basically, the part you really need to know is that my father, the king, has declared Cinders a witch and exiled her for ever.’

Margery, Cinders’s stepmother, held one hand to her forehead and swooned, collapsing on to a conveniently placed settee behind her.

‘A witch!’ she declared as her two daughters, Agnes and Eleanor, rushed to her side. ‘I always knew there was something up with that girl.’

‘But Cinders couldn’t possibly be a witch!’ said Cinders’s father, looking distraught.

Meanwhile, Joderick was eyeing a plate of tasty-looking biscuits on the kitchen table.

He really had ridden quite a long way and he would have loved a quick snack before he rode back to the palace. But with all the crying and swooning this didn’t really seem like the time to help himself.

‘If Prince Joderick says she’s a witch, she’s a witch,’ Margery declared. ‘I know she’s your daughter, but I think she’s had you under some sort of spell. We always knew she was shifty, didn’t we, girls?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Elly replied at once.

‘Did we?’ Aggy asked.

‘I didn’t say she is a witch,’ Joderick said, inching closer to the biscuits. Hmm, were those raisins or chocolate chips? ‘I said my dad thinks she’s a witch.’

Cinders’s stepmother fixed Joderick with an unpleasant smile. ‘But if she isn’t a witch, why would he think that she was?’

‘Um … there was some unpleasantness at dinner,’ he muttered. ‘Involving some magic and a roasted pig.’

It was fair to say that Margery and Cinders had never really got on. Margery thought little girls should be prim and proper and enjoy ladylike, polite activities like brushing their hair, sitting quietly and possibly taking a short nap in the afternoon. Cinders was neither prim nor proper. Cinders liked to play outside and get her clothes dirty, and she never, ever brushed her hair properly. That said, Margery was prepared to overlook what a terrible disappointment her stepdaughter had been when the prince chose her to be his bride. At the time, she couldn’t for the life of her fathom why he had picked that little ruffian to be a princess, but now it all made sense. She was definitely a witch and had put him under some sort of spell.

‘Oh, Prince Joderick!’ Margery sat up and nodded at Elly to grab the plate of biscuits from the table. ‘Where are my manners? This must have been so hard for you. Would you like a snack? Perhaps something to drink?’

‘I wouldn’t mind a glass of water, if that’s all right.’ The prince nodded, his stomach rumbling.

Margery gave Aggy a pinch and the girl ran off to the kitchen. ‘And to think you were going to marry that little witch,’ she said, patting the settee beside her. With the greatest of reluctance, Joderick sat down. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something off about this woman. No wonder Cinders didn’t like her, he thought to himself.

‘You must be heartbroken,’ Margery said sympathetically.

‘Something like that,’ he agreed. ‘I’m more worried about Cinders than anything. I don’t really know what’s going on, but I don’t believe she’s a witch, no matter what my father says.’

‘Cinders couldn’t possibly be a witch,’ her dad repeated, staring into space. Joderick thought he looked awfully pale.

‘Now here’s the thing,’ Margery said as the prince took a glass of water from Aggy and a biscuit from Elly. ‘You say Cinders has been exiled?’

‘That’s right.’

‘And you say she rode off into the Dark Forest?’

‘She did.’

Joderick took a big bite of the biscuit. Eurgh. Raisins. He was an excellent baker and this was definitely not an excellent biscuit.