“It isn’t supposed to be.”
“Well, then, you gave me a good task because it’s not,” Fiona shot back.
“There are dangers,” he warned, his voice was dire and Fiona felt her stomach twist.
“Dangers?” she whispered.
“To Isabella. There are dangers lurking,” he replied.
Oh no.
“What dangers?” Fiona asked. “Her father?”
He shook his head, clearly not going to answer.
Fiona’s irritation grew. “You have to help especially if Bella’s in danger! I wouldn’t know what to do!”
“Use your magic,” he advised.
Fiona, again, stared. What was he on about?
“Magic?”
“Yes, your magic.” When she continued to stare, he explained, sounding impatient, “You are her fairy godmother.”
Fiona broke her stare to blink.
Then she asked, “Fairy godmother?”
His brows drew together. “You didn’t know?”
“No,” she snapped. “I didn’t know. I’m Prentice’s wife. Sally and Jason’s mother. I thought I was a ghost. A fairy godmother is fat and jolly and has a magic wand and didn’t used to be in love with and married to the heroine’s handsome hero, for goodness sake!”
Messenger Man got closer and squeezed her arm. “There are those, not many, who slide straight to black. There are those, not many, who lived lives so filled with good deeds, they move directly on. But all the rest, Fiona, are put to one final test. Especially if they’ve lived lives, no matter how short, filled with bounty. You,” he squeezed her arm again, “had a life cut short but it was a life filled with bounty. You have to share your bounty before you move on. It might be difficult, my dear, but it is the way, the only way, for you to move on.”
Fiona sucked in the breath she did, indeed, breathe in this strange world.
“It’s hard,” she admitted quietly. “And it hurts.”
“Selfless acts normally do,” he replied, dropped his hand and, even though what he was saying was upsetting (and also kind of pissed her off), she missed his touch when it was gone. “But you want them to be happy, all of them, I know you do.”
Fiona nodded. “I do.”
“Then find your magic, Fiona, and do your deed so you can go home.”
“How do I find my magic?” she asked.
He shook his head but answered, “I misspoke, you don’t have to find it, you have to recognize it.”
She blinked and said, “What?”
But she asked nothing and no one.
Because he was gone.
Disappeared.
Vanished.