Fairy Godmother

history of the Godmothers and their work in the Five Hundred Kingdoms, she had no time to spare and little opportunity to think of herself.

Not that Madame was unkind! But she was an implacable taskmistress, expecting no less than total dedication, for that was what she herself gave to the job.

For virtually every waking moment of Madame Bella's day was given over to Godmothering, and Elena could easily see why Madame wanted to pass her position on to someone younger. Within the first three days, Madame was gone for nearly an entire afternoon and evening, and only returned well after moon-rise. Elena heard her weary footsteps on the path to the door, and flew to open it for her.

Elena had been in the stillroom this afternoon and had not seen Madame leave; she loved being and working in the still-room, for it was the one place where she was on firm ground. She had made up dozens of items in the Klovis household when the housekeeper had quit. Madame Klovis was 'above' dirtying her hands in the stillroom, there was no one else who cared to take on the task in addition to their own, and Madame would not spare the money to purchase needed infusions, tinctures, and ointments in the market. Perfumes, face and land lotions, goodness yes, but common burn ointment was a 'frippery.' So, as usual, it had been Elena who had found herself with the task on her hands.

She had enjoyed it, though; stillroom work was anything but boring, and it wasn't hard labor. Here in the Godmother's still-room, it was even more enjoyable, for she had the finest of ingredients to work with, in generous measure, and a recipe book that featured such delights as rosewater, jessamine lotion, and tincture of lavender. Bella had spent no more than a quarter of an hour supervising her initial labors; after that time she had laughed, stated that there was nothing she could teach her Apprentice here but the final infusion of magic, and left Elena with a list of what needed to be made up.

It made Elena very happy to know that here, at least, she was actually contributing to the household. When she had a bit of free time, she was making up scented candles and as a special surprise, a pair of scented gloves for Madame.

She busied herself until darkness fell, then after a dinner with the House Elves, went to her books. Madame did not return until an hour after that.

Elena heard her at the door and ran down the stairs to open it for her. When she opened the door, she saw to her astonishment that Madame was garbed in what Rose called 'the full rig-out,' from the top of her powdered wig to the silver buckles on her satin-covered high-heeled shoes. No ball-gown could have been more resplendent; the rose-pink, lace-festooned confection fitted her like the proverbial glove. The lace alone probably cost enough to buy the nearest village; the satin overskirt had been embroidered with an all-over pattern of rosebuds, and the underskirt was festooned with cascading tiers of more lace, sparkling with tiny faceted beads of rose crystal. She carried a staff rather than a wand; made in the manner of one of the highly fashionable, tall walking-canes, it was surmounted with a globe of rose-quartz caught in a winding of silver vines. Madame leaned on it heavily; she looked exhausted.

Rose took charge of her the second that Elena opened the door; she somehow whisked Madame away before Elena had time to realize that Bella needed help. And roughly half an hour later, Rose summoned Elena from her own rooms to cross into Madame Bella's.

It was the first time that Elena had been there, and she was not at all surprised to discover that the rooms were furnished in an older style than her own. Madame favored the medieval; the walls were hung with tapestries, the furniture looked too heavy to move, and the overall effect was frankly sumptuous. Madame herself had been stripped of her festive gown and elaborate wig and was sitting before the fire, wrapped in a dressing-gown, sipping a cup of tea.

'Ah, Elena!' she said, and Elena was glad to see that some of the weariness was gone from her face. 'I'm sorry I did not tell you that I was leaving, but you were busy — and you will discover for yourself that although we may know for some time in advance that we will find ourselves with a particular task to perform, we don't know exactly when that task will take place. Today I was needed, along with six of the Fair Folk, to guide a prince to where his captive maiden was waiting for him, and to make sure he knew the secret that would defeat the one who held her captive.' She smiled ruefully. 'Then, of course, I had to remain long enough to see whether or not he was victorious.'

'But — ' she protested. 'Why wouldn't he be?'

'Because, my dear, no outcome is certain, not even with The Tradition pushing it along. I brought you here, however, to show you how I know when I am going to be needed, and where. It is time for you to meet Randolf.' She gestured at something on the wall opposite her fireplace — something like a painting, or perhaps a mirror, but one with heavy velvet curtains hung in front of it. 'Go over there, and draw the curtains.'

With curiosity eating her alive, she did so. It was a mirror, and there was a face staring at her from out of its inky depths.

It wasn't her face.

She gave a startled little squeak and jumped back; the face in the mirror looked surprised to see her — then stuck thumbs in each ear and waggled its hands at her while making a face. This, of course, with nothing except the face and hands being visible.

'Randolf!' Bella snapped. 'Stop that this instant!'

The face flushed, and the hands vanished. 'I apologize, Madame, Apprentice. The temptation was overwhelming.'

'Randolf, this is my new Apprentice, Elena,' Madame said next, without moving from her chair. 'Elena, this is Randolf, the Slave of the Mirror. I got him from a Dark Sorceress after she was destroyed.'

'And what she'd been using me for — !' the face said, rolling its eyes. 'What a bore! Never allowed to look at things for myself! Every day, it was always the same thing, 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's — ''

'Well, you get to exercise your powers to the fullest now that you live with me, Randolf,' Madame chuckled. 'Show her my afternoon — a precis, if you please.'

'Charmed,' said the face, and vanished. It was replaced by a series of scenes that played out in the depths of the mirror as if it was no mirror at all, but a window on a place far from here.

For not even in rumor had Elena heard that there was a sleeping princess nearby, immured in a castle surrounded by a thorn hedge a good twenty feet high, twice that in thickness. She recognized the tale, of course. The Tradition seemed to favor the tale of the Sleeping Princess.