Ella Enchanted - By Gail Carson Levine Page 0,60

soaked. I could go to the ball without jewels, but not wet through and shivering.

"Mandy! What can I do?"

"Oh, sweet. You can stay home."

I knew there would be two more balls, and that it probably wouldn't sleet tomorrow. But it might, and I had set my heart on going tonight.

"Isn't there some small magic -- a fairy umbrella, something -- that would keep me dry?"

"No, love. Not small magic."

The weather was such a stupid thing to separate me from Char. Mandy hadn't made the rain, but she could have ended it.

"I wish you were a real fairy, one who wasn't afraid to do anything." I had a mad idea and acted on it without considering its wisdom. I said the words Lucinda had taught me, "Lucinda, come to my aid." If anyone would think keeping me dry wasn't big magic, that one would be Lucinda.

"Ella!" Mandy protested. "Don't--"

The order came too late. Lucinda appeared between us.

She still looked old, but she stood straighter than the last time I'd seen her, and many of her wrinkles had disappeared.

"Ahhh. Sweet child. You need my help." She smiled, and the young Lucinda shone through. "So long as it's not too big, I shall do what I can."

I explained.

"Going to a ball? Like that? No, it won't do." She touched my neck, and it was hung so heavy with jewels that it took all my finishing school training to keep my head up.

Mandy snorted.

"Perhaps it's too much for small magic," Lucinda agreed. The weight vanished, replaced by a thin silver chain from which hung a white lily made of the same kind of glass as my slippers. I felt a slight pressure on my head, and lifted off a tiara fashioned as a garland of the same flowers.

"It's beautiful."

Lucinda replaced it on my hair. "Now, you need a coach. That shouldn't be too troublesome."

"How can you call a coach small magic?" Mandy demanded. "And horses, and a coachman, and footmen. People and animals! You've forgotten your lesson."

"No, I haven't. I won't shape them from the air. I'll form them out of real things.

That should satisfy your scruples, Mandy dear."

Mandy grunted, which I knew was not agreement, but Lucinda continued gaily.

"Earlier this evening in Frell I spied a giant's cart filled with pumpkins. An orange coach will be splendid."

A rumbling noise reached us. Outside, a mass, darker than the storm, took shape and grew larger. A seven-foot-high pumpkin rolled toward us and came to rest in the street outside the manor.

I watched Lucinda. She muttered no incantations, waved no wand. For a moment, her gaze shifted, and she seemed to stare within, not out. Then she winked at me.

"Look, child."

The pumpkin had been transformed into a gleaming coach with brass door handles and windows through which lacy curtains peeked.

"Mice will make plump horses," she said.

Six fat brown mice raced across the tiles of the hall. They vanished, and six horses appeared before the coach. A white rat became the coachman, and six lizards were transformed into footmen.

"They're wonderful!" I said. "Thank you."

She beamed.

Mandy glowered. "Anything can happen, you idiot!"

"What can happen? I'll make it safer. Ella, child, you'll have to leave the ball early. At midnight, your coach will become a pumpkin again, and the animals will regain their original shape until your next ball. The tiara and necklace will disappear."

I would have only three hours with Char. They would have to be enough.

"Ah, how glorious to be young and going to a ball." Lucinda vanished.

Glorious! Yes, to see Char. Nothing more. "Goodbye, Mandy," I said.

"Wait!" She ran to the kitchen.

I stood impatiently and gazed outside. As I watched, an orange carpet unfurled itself and rolled from the coach's door to ours. If I waited much longer, it would be wet and useless.

Mandy returned with her umbrella, uncompromisingly black and with two bent spokes.

"Here, love. I hope you won't be sorry. I won't hug you and muss your dress."

She kissed me. "Go now."

I stepped onto the carpet and raised the umbrella. The coachman jumped down from his perch and opened the carriage door.

27

A FEW guests were still arriving when my carriage reached the castle. Before I emerged, I made certain my mask was securely tied.

I had been here before, as a week-old infant brought to meet my sovereign, but not since. The hall was twice as tall as Mum Olga's. Every wall was covered with tapestries: hunting scenes, court scenes, pastoral scenes. Along the walls to my right and to my left a line of