My Unfair Godmother(10)

A voice with a thick brogue accent said, “I must be at the right place. There’s the damsel crying her eyes out, but no bloomin’ fairy. I should have known that dosser would be late.” My first thought was that Nick had come into my room and was hiding at the end of my bed with a puppet in an attempt to cheer me up. He used to do that sort of thing with Kendall when she came for visits. Her Beanie Baby cat would have conversations with her about his plans to conquer the world. I wasn’t twelve though, and I wasn’t in the mood for these sorts of games. Even if I was glad that Nick cared.

“Just what I need right now,” I said dryly, “a leprechaun.”

“I’m short on gold,” he said, “so it won’t do you any good to ask for it.”



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“Of course you are. You wouldn’t be my leprechaun if you weren’t broke.” I picked up my pillow and chucked it toward the end of the bed.

The leprechaun ducked as the pillow flew over his head, which was pretty amazing considering I didn’t see Nick’s hand holding the doll anywhere. Were there strings somewhere?

The leprechaun stood back up and pointed a finger at me—a perfectly formed, movable finger. “Attacking a magical creature is grounds for a curse, you know.”

“What …” I leaned closer. The doll’s eyes and mouth were actually moving. It was impossible, but I was watching it happen.

“Just because your life is right pathetic doesn’t mean you’re excused from good behavior.” The leprechaun reached up and straightened the tiny green bowler hat perched on his head. “I’ve turned people into pebbles for less.” I blinked at him. He was still there. I blinked again. “I’m asleep.” The leprechaun surveyed me with furrowed brows. “I don’t mean to contradict you, but you seem fairly awake—moving around and talking and all.” He kept watching me. “The constant blinking is a little odd though.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m asleep.” I dug my fingernails into the back of my hand to prove my point. In dreams you didn’t feel pain. But I felt it now. Insistent sharp jabs.

The leprechaun frowned. “Are you away in the head, lass?” I let out a shrill gasp and sat back so hard I banged my back into my headboard. “You’re a leprechaun!” He folded his arms. “Yeah, real observant, you are.”

“Leprechauns are real?”



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“That logic would follow, wouldn’t it?” He huffed and cocked his head at me. “You’re not the brightest star in the constellation, are you, lass?”

I shrunk back on the bed, glancing around to see if there were more of them in the room. My dresser and bookshelf were clear. Nothing sat on the carpet but my shoes. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

“Wasting my time, apparently. Aye, fairy godmothers are an unreliable bunch. And yours is worse than most.” He sat down on my bed-spread with a thump and kicked his legs out in front of him. His green suit was embroidered with leaves, but a couple of buttons were missing and the sleeves looked worn. Scuff marks lightened the front of his boots, and one heel was chipped.

A down-and-out leprechaun was sitting on my bed.

“You wouldn’t have something to eat around here, would you?” he asked. “A Ding Dong, perhaps? I’m partial to those.” Then the other thing he said clicked in my mind. “I have a fairy godmother?” I could barely wrap my mind around the idea. I would have asked more questions, but a fountain of sparklers erupted in the middle of the room.

My fairy godmother was coming. With my luck, she had probably come to yell at me like my parents had.

The sparklers winked out with a puff, and a teenage girl with long pink hair, sunglasses, and translucent wings appeared in my room.

She wore a violet miniskirt and thigh-high black boots. She held a silver wand, and a lavender sequined purse hung from her shoulder. I could already tell she was stunning even before she slipped her sunglasses onto her head. Somehow I hadn’t expected my fairy godmother to be so young. Or to be wearing frosty purple eye shadow.



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Instead of yelling at me for my police encounter, she smiled, and when she spoke, her voice had the same tinkling sound as wind chimes. “Greetings, Tansy. I’m Chrysanthemum Everstar, your fairy godmother.”

“Fair godmother,” the leprechaun called from the end of the bed.

Chrysanthemum’s gaze shot over to the leprechaun, and her eyes widened in unhappy surprise. Her voice was no longer sweetness; it was as sharp as glass. “Clover, what are you doing here?” The leprechaun crossed his arms. “I’m your assistant. I’m assisting.”