Survival of the Sparkliest! Read online

  It sounded as if it should be easy, but it wasn’t. Not for Isabelle.

  “Whenever I feel nervous,” Clotilda continued, “I take a deep breath. I never rush. I believe in the fairy godmother mission: Happily ever after for all!” She made a heart shape with her fingers.

  “And you never think of … her?”

  Clotilda looked straight ahead. “No.”

  “Never?”

  “What would be the point?” For a second, she looked sad, like she was taking a deep breath and waiting for the sadness to pass. “Isabelle, we can’t worry about her. We can only do our jobs. Making happiness is serious business. It’s a privilege and an honor and the best job in the universe. If Grandmomma thinks you were born to sparkle, you can do it.” She snapped her fingers. “How could you not? You’re my sister!”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Absolutely,” Clotilda said. Then she took off for her meeting.

  Isabelle walked the rest of the way by herself. As she walked, she tried to loosen her hair. She stretched out her toes. She took out the note and reread it to make herself feel better.

  But this was impossible when she could read the banners hovering above the front door to the Official Fairy Godmother Training Center.

  The first message was scary: Survival of the Sparkliest.

  Underneath that was something even worse: May the BEST godmother win!

  When Isabelle arrived at the center, Angelica and Fawn were already there.

  They did not seem bothered by the banner and warnings. They didn’t look nervous about training. The truth was that they looked the way they always did: studious. And responsible. And a whole lot more ready than Isabelle.

  Fawn sat on the stoop by the door with her book propped open. Angelica swung from the lowest branch of the gnarly tree. They were testing one another’s knowledge of blue sparkles starting with C, from Cambridge to Carolina, to Celeste, Cerulean, Cobalt, Columbia, and Cornflower.

  There were a lot of blues.

  But they didn’t look frustrated. They looked as if they were having fun. As if they understood what all those shades could do. As if they were already official fairy godmothers.

  When they saw Isabelle, they stopped what they were doing and the three friends embraced. “Welcome back,” Isabelle said, remembering Clotilda’s advice. “You both shine brightly today.”

  The three friends stepped back and raised their wands together, so that they pointed toward the stars. Then they admired one another’s clothes and topknots. They all agreed that the hairstyle was a bit uncomfortable, but that it was worth the aggravation if it pleased Luciana.

  “When I’m a Best, I will ask her to abolish dress codes,” Angelica said.

  “Unless I abolish them first,” Fawn said.

  Isabelle smiled. There was no danger of her ever becoming a Best, but for fun she said, “When I’m a Best, I’m going to bring back crowns.”

  In the fairy godmother world, just as in the regular one, crowns unfortunately were considered old-fashioned and totally out of style. But Isabelle didn’t care. She thought they were great—loads better than topknots! “You didn’t get into trouble, did you?” Angelica asked Isabelle. “About the you-know-what.” (She meant the corrupt sparkles they had used to practice their magic on boys.)

  “Not big trouble,” Isabelle said. “But I did have to apologize. More than once.”

  “I had to apologize five times!” Fawn said, lowering her voice. “Kaminari was sure that the sparkles belonged to your mother. And that she hid them in that box because she knew they’d lead to trouble.”

  Angelica agreed. “Luciana said your mother set a trap and we fell for it. She was disappointed, but couldn’t totally blame us, either. So she wasn’t that mad.”

  Even though most godmothers still believed that Mom was the worst fairy godmother ever (and capable of all kinds of shenanigans), Isabelle felt in her heart that none of them knew the whole story.

  There had to be more.

  “Could we make a pact not to mention my mom this level?” Isabelle asked. “Even if those sparkles did belong to her, it wasn’t her fault that we used them. That’s on us.”

  Both Fawn and Angelica looked a little bit embarrassed. It wasn’t nice to speak ill of someone’s mother, even if she was the worst fairy godmother in the history of all godmothers. “Of course, you’re right,” Fawn said. Then she frowned. “I hope they won’t use it against our overall rankings.”

  Angelica didn’t think they would. “Luciana would have told me if she was going to dock us points.” All of them knew that she was Luciana’s favorite, even though Fawn (Kaminari’s favorite) was ranked first.

  “Did she tell you anything about that?” Isabelle asked, pointing to the banner.

  Fawn laughed. “It’s just a slogan,” she said. “Even though, technically, we could still be sent to the Home for Normal Girls, Kaminari told me we’d have to do something even worse than …” She didn’t finish her sentence. (Probably because she was about to say something about Mom.)

  Angelica added, “Now that your grandmomma isn’t going to be here, there are bound to be changes—but none that we can’t handle.” When Isabelle asked how she knew about Grandmomma, her friend said, “Can’t you hear them?”

  They stopped talking long enough for Isabelle to hear some whoops. And whistles. And funny sounds that reminded her of balloons swishing out of air. “What is that?” she asked.

  “A bunch of old fairy godmothers,” Fawn said. “Making mayhem.”

  “Mayhem?” Isabelle asked.

  “Magical mayhem,” Angelica whispered. “Nothing that exciting.”

  But Isabelle didn’t believe that. “Want to go see what they’re doing?”

  Fawn and Angelica looked at their books. Then they shut them. Fawn said, “For all that is sparkly, let’s do it!”

  Isabelle took her friends by their hands, and together they ran to the other side of the center to see for themselves.

  All around them—on the lawn, the steps, and even in the trees—dozens of official fairy godmothers gathered in small groups.

  There were ancient godmothers doing classic old-fashioned magic, such as turning mice into horses.

  There were somewhat-old fairy godmothers making accessories such as magic roses and slippers and sewing materials.

  And there were others of all ages hanging around a large makeshift tent next to a heavily stocked frog pond. A few godmothers catapulted sparkles into the sky for absolutely no reason at all.

  Tossing sparkles into the sky was dangerous and wasteful. Even Isabelle knew that.

  Minerva, Irene, and MaryEllen must have known that, too, because they were running as fast as they could, distracting the old godmothers with large trays of food from every corner of the regular world: There were empanadas filled with meat, grilled fish with Japanese pickles on the side, and a big bowl of shakshuka, which was a dish made with tomatoes, eggs, onions, and melted feta cheese.

  Angelica rubbed her tummy. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  But the second the old godmothers spotted the three trainees, they stopped what they were doing and swarmed Isabelle.

  They kissed her hands and the hem of her dress. They bowed their heads to her—as if she were a Best.

  It was very embarrassing.

  “Please stop,” Isabelle said. “I’m not a Best. I don’t deserve this.”

  But they thought she was just being humble. “Last night,” an old fairy godmother said, “Minerva told us all about you, and how you ended the strike all by yourself. She told us you are going to go down in history as one of the best fairy godmothers ever.”

  “She did?” Angelica and Fawn asked. They looked mildly peeved. At Isabelle.

  And to make it even worse, the godmothers gave her presents.

  The first gift came from the shortest, most ancient and wrinkly godmother Isabelle had ever seen—even more ancient and wrinkly and stooped than Minerva and Zahara
combined.

  “Isabelle, I made Jacques for you,” she said, pointing to a beautiful brown-and-black horse (that obviously used to be a mouse). “His great-great-great-great-great-great-great- (plus a few more greats) grandmother was one of the originals.”

  Isabelle didn’t need to ask whom she was referring to. “Thank you very much.”

  The godmother handed Isabelle the reins. “It’s been a long time since I felt brave enough to ask for a modern princess. But now that I can go back to training, I’m ready to wave my wand and share the sparkle!” She asked the horse to take a knee so Isabelle could scratch his head, but when she did, the horse disappeared into a cloud of sparkles. Now at her feet, Isabelle stared at Jacques—the mouse.

  Fawn screamed. (She was afraid of mice.)

  Isabelle knelt down and told the mouse to go to the castle basement. When she stood up, another very old godmother (but not quite as old as the last one) stepped forward with a small wrapped box, which unfortunately turned out to be a rule book.

  Isabelle said, “Thank you, but I have one of these.”

  The godmother thrust it into her hands. “Not like this, you don’t.”

  It was an original rule book, first edition. This was a treasure!

  The book was brittle and it smelled a bit moldy—it had probably been sitting in the godmother’s basement for a long time—so Isabelle turned the pages very slowly and carefully. Most of the rules were written with beautiful swirling letters.

  Rules like:

  Gold can make a princess stubborn.

  Don’t forget to write down all your ratios.

  Avoid using black and red together unless three godmothers have approved your proportions.

  In the margin, there were more notes, all written by hand and decorated with swirlies and hearts and squares. One in particular caught her eye:

  If red offers power and black offers knowledge, why won’t they let us combine them? This seems to be an obvious way to get to happily ever after. Must do more research! If I do this, I could be #1!

  Isabelle closed the book and tucked it under her arm. Remember: Fairy godmothers didn’t believe in coincidences. In other words, this advice was meant for her.

  Her friends, however, were extremely curious and persistent. “Give it here,” Angelica said. “I’ve never seen an original.”

  Fawn thought Isabelle should hand it over to the Bests. “These rules might be outdated.”

  For a second, Isabelle wondered whether this book had been Mom’s—but then she remembered that the rule book was written because of Mom, after she’d been banished. Even so, there was no way Isabelle was going to hand it in. It was a great gift—one that might help her survive training!

  She turned to thank the godmother who gave it to her, but the old wand-waver was gone. In her place was a younger fairy godmother with a less controversial gift. It was a pair of monogrammed goggles, just like the kind Fawn and Angelica owned.

  When Isabelle put them on, her glasses fogged up, but only for a few seconds. “How did you know I wanted these?” Isabelle asked.

  The fairy godmother smiled. She pointed to a crowd of godmothers moving slowly toward them. “From Zahara.”

  Grandmomma’s ex–best friend was still very popular, especially after standing up to the Bests in the strike.

  Zahara handed Isabelle a small wrapped box. “A few of us polished this up last night. Everyone thought you deserved it.” She added, “It was mine once.”

  Isabelle opened the box as quickly as she could. Inside was a famous piece of jewelry passed down from the very first godmothers. It was a badge the size of the star on her wand. It was shaped like an apple and decorated with many jewels, including a big silver #1 smack in the middle.

  Now Angelica and Fawn looked more than peeved. They looked downright insulted.

  It was a bit awkward.

  Actually more than a bit.

  But Zahara didn’t care. “Put it on,” she said. “It will look perfect on your collar.” As Isabelle did what she was told (it wasn’t wise to ignore the wishes of ancient godmothers), Zahara whispered, “If you twist the stem three times to the right, you’ll find a little compartment holding a couple of sparkles. For a rainy day!”

  Secret sparkles were nice, but this honor was very embarrassing, since Isabelle ranked no better than the third-best trainee. But if she put it in her pocket or gave it to Fawn, that would be rude.

  Fairy godmothers could be a lot of things—powerful, ambitious, mushy—but when it came to accepting presents, they tried never to be ungracious.

  So Isabelle thanked Zahara, while at the same time hoping that Luciana wouldn’t notice it on her collar. She also hoped that the pin was the last of the gifts.

  Also, she wanted one more second to look at that old book. She couldn’t stop thinking about all the good things red and black sparkles could do. She also couldn’t stop thinking that using them would show Luciana, Raine, and Kaminari that she was the boldest and sparkliest of all the trainees—which seemed to be the point of this level.

  But then Grandmomma arrived in a dark purple all-terrain vehicle that had definitely once been an eggplant. When she stepped out, she embraced Zahara. Then she asked the group of old godmothers, “Are you ready to go back to school?”

  When they cheered, giant pale-green snowflakes fell from the sky.

  Godmothers old and young stuck out their tongues. “Isn’t this wonderful?” Fawn cried. Isabelle and Angelica had to agree. The snowflakes tasted like peppermint!

  Magic was literally in the air.

  That meant it was time to return to the Official Fairy Godmother Training Center!

  Angelica and Fawn started to run—they hated to be late—but then they stopped, because Isabelle didn’t want to leave the Grands behind.

  She told them all to link arms the way Nora and her friends Samantha, Janet, and Mason did when they were extra happy. She said, “Let’s walk together! This is the last time!”

  Since she was right (for once), they did it. They walked in sync, smiling all the way to the “ready” door.

  Irene invited everyone to huddle together. “This is it, ladies!”

  MaryEllen smiled. “The moment has arrived.”

  Minerva whispered to Isabelle, “Were you surprised?”

  Isabelle thanked her, even though she still thought the presents were unnecessary.

  Minerva disagreed. “Keep listening to your heart, Isabelle. No matter how many tricks we learn, that’s the fastest way to make happily ever after.”

  Isabelle held the old rule book tightly. So far, she felt great. Everything was going really well.

  There was only one thing missing.

  Minerva knew Isabelle too well. She whispered, “Wherever she is, your mom is proud of you.”

  When Isabelle stepped over the threshold into the training center, she was expecting to see the usual setup of desks and chairs, a few slogans and pictures, and Grandmomma’s desk.

  But today, everything was different.

  The desks and chairs they had sat in were gone. Most of the slogans were gone. Now there were tables displaying equipment for scientifically combining sparkles. A giant spectrum of sparkles beamed across the back wall. All the trainees (and especially the Grands) shielded their eyes from the brightness.

  Once their eyes adjusted, they could see that a few things had been left alone. Isabelle’s favorite sign, HAPPILY EVER AFTER: THE LAST LINE OF EVERY GREAT STORY, still hung on the front wall, but now it hung under a brand-new plaque, KEEP CALM AND SPARKLE ON. There were a few pictures from last night’s Extravaganza, and the Bests had even made a small tribute to the strike—two framed signs, FIGHT LIKE A GODMOTHER and RESPECT THE POWER OF THE SPARKLE—and a framed picture of Isabelle, Minerva, and Grandmomma. Isabelle burst into giggles (and relief) when she found the class picture on the center of the wall. In the photo, Fawn held bunny ears behind her head.

  “Angelica dared me,” she told Isabelle. She look
ed a bit embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” That was the kind of dare that didn’t bother Isabelle. It was a joke between friends.

  But the rest of the room was no joke. Every other free space was covered with warnings like:

  Don’t touch without permission.

  Wear protective gear at all times.

  Work alone! You are not here to make friends.

  While Isabelle tried to imagine what size protective gear they’d need to fit over their puffy dresses, Angelica pointed to the sand-colored “emergency wands” in every corner of the room. “Luciana told me that they’re filled with powerful sparkles that neutralize—in other words, undo—magical disasters. If we hear an alarm, we must break the seal, pull the safety pin, and aim.”

  Isabelle was about to ask how they were supposed to break a magic seal in the middle of an emergency (even though she was 99.9 percent sure it was in the book), when the door swung open to a loud chorus of trumpets.

  Isabelle rubbed her stomach, even though she was still full and her dress was too tight. She couldn’t help it. The Bests didn’t just arrive with great fanfare. They always brought food.

  But not this time.

  Today, the Bests wore jackets and slacks and starched white shirts, each representing a different part of the regular world.

  Luciana’s suit was the same blue as the flag of Argentina, the home of her first princess. Raine’s was red, yellow, and green, like the flag of Ethiopia—and her shoes were encrusted with jewels of the same colors. Kaminari wore a crimson-red suit that matched the flag of Japan. Clotilda had changed out of her dress and into a blue pantsuit with a red-and-white blouse, in honor of her first princess, Melody, from America.

  Isabelle tugged at the pin in her hair. The Bests looked modern and comfortable—so much better than the fussy dress Clotilda had given her.

  Luciana winked, as though she could tell what Isabelle was thinking. “It’s so nice to see all of you here today. First and foremost, I want to congratulate you for making it this far—and maybe more important, for showing us your gusto during the strike. You have all come a long way, and we are very excited to see the fine work you will surely do in the future.”