Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(3)
“It isn’t called stealing, sweetie, just returning an object to its rightful owner.”
Pippi frowned. “If there was a spell that could send Kat back to Edward, why didn’t Daddy tell me about it?”
“Because it’s forbi—because your father isn’t confident in his abilities to wield so much magic. It takes a truly powerful spell to send a human girl from one realm to another. And if you want Katherine Wilson to return before the prince is married, you will need to perform a time reversal spell as well. All this together will cost big magic—enormous magic, I tell you.”
Pippi chewed on her lip. The book, still tightly grasped in her arms, seemed to grow warmer. What would Daddy say if he found out? He’d be mad, for sure, but if he did steal from Uncle Borg in the first place . . .
“How am I going to get the magic?”
“Easy. It’s sealed in that emerald green ring your father has on his forefinger. Get it and bring it to me. I’ll regain my magic in an instant.”
“How do I know you are telling the truth?”
“Suspicious little thing, aren’t you?” Borg held up his hands. He had short, stubby fingers—quite a contrast to Barthelius’s long, slender ones. “Suppose we do a simple pact that won’t need much magic? Repeat after me: I, Princess Pippi, daughter of King Barthelius, will retrieve the emerald ring for Borg the Invincible. In return for your efforts, I, Borg the Invincible, swear to transport Katherine Wilson to Athelia, and also to revert Athelia to the exact moment when Prince Edward’s wedding takes place, in order for Katherine Wilson to resume her relationship with him without further complications. There, are you satisfied?”
Pippi hesitated. Yellow-green light glowed from Borg’s hands. Then, with a determined nod, she held out her chubby little hands, and the light twisted and wove around their hands like a pair of serpents.
1
Life sucks.
Of course, it is rare that anyone can go through a day without any frustrations, but today, everything seemed to go wrong in epic proportions.
It started early in the morning. I was walking down the street, clutching my scarf around my neck, balancing my umbrella in one hand and making sure to keep my bag clamped tightly under my arm, when a car whizzed past and sent a wave of muddy water into the air, most of it landing on my jeans.
It wasn’t just any pair of jeans. They fit me perfectly, snug but not too tight, hugging my thighs in a way that made me feel sexy. For me, they were the equivalent of the jeans in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. The first day I wore them, I was asked out by Jason. And now, they were drenched. On a cold, windy day in downtown Portland.
“Damn!” I pulled out a tissue and tried to clean up the best I could, but some nasty brown stains remained no matter how hard I scrubbed.
I glanced at my watch: 7: 45. I was running late for my morning shift.
When I rushed into the café, it was already packed. Typical Monday morning.
“Kat, over here. Right now.” My colleague, Paul, didn’t even bother to ask why I was late. There wasn’t time to yell at me. Right then, the most important thing was to take care of the customers. Most of them were glancing at the clock, their watches, or their cell phones, their expressions full of frustration mingled with impatience.
“I’m sorry.” I hung up my coat, washed my hands, and started my first order—all in five seconds. And because I was trying to keep up with the orders, I bumped into Paul right when he’d finished pouring a full cup of coffee.
As expected, the hot liquid splashed on my blouse. My new lilac blouse that Paige got me for my birthday. Great.
“Jesus, Kat, are you okay? Did you get burned?”
“I’m fine.” Grabbing a cloth from the table, I dabbed on my blouse, wondering why I had been such an idiot. No matter how busy I was, I should have donned that ugly brown apron we’re given. In less than three hours, I’d managed to get muddy water and coffee on me. And it wasn’t even lunch break yet.
By the time my shift was over, I was so ready to collapse. I sank into a chair and took out my phone, glad that I had bought a waterproof case for it.
I swiped on the screen and discovered a blinking text message from Jason, my boyfriend of two years.
Although I had long cured my tendency to stutter and stare in front of hot guys, my relationships with boys hadn’t been completely smooth-sailing. Gabriel was my first real boyfriend, who also happened to be a super sexy exchange student from Australia. We dated for a while, and he was surprisingly decent for a guy who looked like a magazine model, but when he went back to Australia, things cooled off pretty fast. He went to college a year earlier than me, and he soon found another girl. Later, I went out with a couple of guys, including a real jerk who had the nerve to cheat on me with my roommate. It burned me out on relationships for a while. Until I met Jason.
Jason is everything I could ask for. Tall, but not so tall that I had to crane my neck to look at him. He’s good-looking, but not so gorgeous that I’d feel like I was going out with a movie star. He’s loving, but he didn’t try to get laid too soon, taking our relationship slow and steady. He’s fond of animals and volunteers at a pet shelter. And he’s studying for his PhD in physics, which especially made Mom (who dropped out of college when she got pregnant) approve of him in the beginning.