mortals who will bear the wrath of an empowered ex-fairy. Think of my grade. I can feel it slipping down the alphabet as we speak.”
“Your grade?” Hudson asked, but he didn’t wait for her to answer.
He strode over to untie the horses, mumbling things about fairies as he went.
I stayed where I was. “How is my son the key to Rumpelstiltskin regaining his powers?”
Chrissy’s lips twitched into a frown. “The UMA doesn’t destroy a fairy’s magic; they can only lock it up. Regular locks don’t keep out fairies, of course, so the UMA uses magic spells. For example, Sleeping Beauty’s enchanted spinning wheel is in a vault with a spell that only lifts for those who know the wheel is there but don’t want to use it. I could open the vault right now because I have no desire to use sleep-inducing furniture. The moment I wanted to use it, I would never be able to pry the door open.” Her voice slowed. “I wish the UMA had used that spell for Rumpelstiltskin’s power. Instead, his vault can only be unlocked by buying love that cannot be bought.” She lifted her hand and then let it fall. “He found a way around that spell by buying your son when you thought the baby wouldn’t exist.” My arms wrapped protectively around the fuzzy blue blanket.
“What will happen to him if Rumpelstiltskin takes him?” Chrissy’s wings slowly slid open, then quickly shut. She didn’t answer.
“What happens to my baby?” I asked again.
“Rumpelstiltskin will leave the baby in the vault. And he’ll die there.”
My legs felt weak. I worried they might give out. One thought pounded through my ears. I couldn’t let Rumpelstiltskin take my baby.
I couldn’t. I had to find a way to prevent it. “Chrissy, please just tell me 266/356
the moral to this fairy tale. If I write down the moral, we can go home, right?”
Her wings continued their slow fanning. “It’s not Rumpelstiltskin’s moral you need; it’s the moral of your own story. That’s the magic of books. They’re never quite the same for any two people. When you read one, you automatically make it your own.”
“I’ve tried every moral I can think of,” I said. “Nothing works.” She slid her wand back into her purse. “Well, you need to ask the right question to get the right answer.”
“Okay.” I tried to keep my voice calm, rational. “I’m pretty sure the right question is, what is the moral of the story?” She glanced at her watch—a sure sign she was about to leave. “No, the question to ask is, what have I learned?” The light around Chrissy glimmered; she was fading, and I knew in another moment, she’d leave altogether.
I stepped toward her. “Don’t go yet.”
“Very often,” she said, her voice already sounding far away, “the lessons you learn are more important than the things you accomplish.” And then she was gone.
“Lovely,” I said out loud. “A very lovely sentiment, unless what you want to accomplish is getting to safety.” The baby stretched. He lifted one arm, leaving his hand by his face as he drifted back to sleep.
“Or saving your baby’s life.” His life suddenly seemed more important than my own.
Hudson walked back over, holding the reins of my horse. “You were right,” he said. “That was quite a surprise.” I knew I should be moving, but I felt too shaky to take a single step. I hadn’t even wanted to bargain with Rumpelstiltskin when the baby he asked for was only theoretical—when I didn’t think it would ever exist anyway. Now I held the baby in my arms. He was mine.
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I could identify the emotion that had coursed so forcefully through me from the moment Chrissy placed him in my arms. It was love, stronger than anything I had ever felt before. This feeling was why parents ran into burning buildings to save their children. It was why animals killed to protect their young. It was why my own father had made a deal with bandits and stormed a castle to rescue me. I knew unequivocally that I would do anything for this child. And I had traded him to Rumpelstiltskin for the ability to change things into gold. My voice choked in my throat. “What have I done?”
“It will be all right,” Hudson said. “You already know Rumpelstiltskin’s name.”
This brought me some comfort, but not enough. I had changed the fairy tale. What if I had changed the bargain at the end too? What if he asked a different question?
“At least your fairy godmother gave us fresh horses,” Hudson said. “Here, I’ll hold the baby while you mount.”
“Be careful,” I said. “Don’t drop him.” Hudson held out his arms. “You can trust me.” He had said the same thing back at the castle, and I had laughed at him. I didn’t now. I handed him my son.