quivered and gave up. “Great. Just great.”
He came closer. Again, there was that princely Amazonian cologne. This time I more than swooned. I got positively dizzy.
“Do you want me to show you the way out?” he asked.
“Just tell me.”
His directions were simple. Go directly between the two large pines, take about fifty steps straight ahead, and I would be on the path.
It was only then that I noticed the light I’d been running toward was gone.
“I have to ask,” I said, when he was done. “What are you doing out here?”
“Hanging in the great outdoors away from the plastic artificiality of Fairyland. You should try it sometime, Zoe. I especially recommend swimming under the stars in a real pond instead of chemically treated water. Nothing better.”
The cologne was indeed intoxicating. My body had started to sway, and my brain was turning fuzzy. I had to pinch my nose to minimize the effects.
I said, “The other day on the phone, the Queen mentioned that because of you, Fairyland’s entire future was at stake.”
He chuckled softly. “Yeah, right. I don’t think so.”
A warm breeze rattled the leaves above as he reached out to touch me. “Hey,” he said, pulling me toward him. I shut my eyes on the logic that I couldn’t report what I couldn’t see, right?
He whispered, “Thanks,” and I felt his fingers comb through my hair, pushing it back from my cheek. My heart started racing, because I was almost positive he was about to kiss me or something, but we only stood there like that for a while until he said, “I guess this makes us even. I saved your butt; you saved mine.”
“Hmmm,” was the best I could manage. I was dying to take a peek, but before I could, he’d let go, moving through the woods with the quiet agility of a cougar, leaving me slightly disappointed that I hadn’t taken the risk to find out which prince he was.
His footsteps were distant shuffles when I headed toward the two pine trees and, hopefully, the path. I went about five feet when I was abruptly blinded by a bright lamp.
“Turn that down!” I snapped, trying to shield my eyes.
In front of me stood a stocky figure, hands on hips, hair in a traditional German pageboy, the buckles on his lederhosen visible even through the undergrowth.
Just my luck. A Hansel.
“Well, well, well,” he singsonged. “If it isn’t the Queen’s very own lady-in-waiting caught red-handed conspiring with Fairyland’s most-wanted criminal.” His headlight zigzagged as he shook his head in condemnation. “And I suppose you’re gonna say it was just a coincidence?”
I recognized him as Jake, a somewhat cute Hansel with a big chip on his shoulder, namely his height. Or lack thereof. The other day he’d gone on a rant about how he would have been chosen as a Prince Charming had it not been for one or two missing inches.
“What are you doing out here, Jake?”
“What do you think? You got the memo. Whoever has information about the traitor will automatically be promoted and, therefore, that much closer to getting the Dream and Do.” He rubbed his hands together. “I can practically feel that twenty-five thousand dollars burning a hole in my pocket.”
“Yes, you’d make a lovely princess.” Couldn’t resist.
“Very funny, Zoe. If I were you, I’d be worried. I heard what you told him about the cameras, and that Management thinks he’s a threat to Fairyland. Do you know what the Queen’s going to do to you when she finds out what you said behind her back? That’s not exactly showing the Wow! spirit, is it?”
My body went stiff with dread. I knew he’d snitch on me, too. Jake the Hansel was just that ambitious.
“All right, all right. Don’t get your lederhosen in a twist,” I said, making light. Never let ’em see you sweat. “But how do you know?”
He said, “How do I know what?”
“How do you know I won’t get to her first? You need an appointment to talk to the Queen, whereas I, being her closest assistant, could wake her right now if I wanted and tell her that I caught you two conspiring.” I took a step closer. “Who’s she going to believe? Her most-trusted lady-in-waiting or a bitter little creep whose only chance of advancement is by ratting on his fellow cast members?”
He gasped. That was a Hansel for you—total wimps.
“I can’t help it if I’m short,” he countered. “You said ‘little.’ That hurt my feelings.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Say, how