Wood Sprites(38)
Zahara giggled just like they did when they first read the paper. But then she gasped as she followed back the implication. “Wait. You mean there’s a real Hairbrush and Umbrella?”
“Kind of. Hairbrush actually uses the name ‘Winter’ and Umbrella is ‘Sunny.’”
“Really?” She laughed. “What about ‘Suppository’?”
“We made that one up.”
“Prince Yardstick?”
“That’s Viceroy Windwolf. His real name is Wolf Who Rules Wind. Ruler. One third of a yardstick?”
Zahara giggled again. “That’s so funny. My sister loves Prince Windwolf. She’s got this poster of him on her wall. But she thinks Prince Yardstick is a stick in the mud.”
Technically Windwolf wasn’t a prince even though he was a cousin to Queen Soulful Ember. All the reports on him stated that he was completely unflappable and resolute. The twins translated that into a character that was completely unfazed by the madness that they unleashed around him. Usually he didn’t appear until the video hit maximum insanity, which he would then view with mild confusion but utter calmness. Often he also was the person that put the world back in order—usually with a massive show of magic. She found it odd that anyone would consider him as dull, fussy, or old-fashioned. Maybe Zahara’s sister didn’t know what “stick in the mud” really meant.
Ava came to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. “Zahara, it’s your turn for photographs.”
“Come on.” Zahara hopped up. “You should try the makeup. It’s fun. And your parents will love the photos.”
Their mother would. Considering everything they’d been doing behind their parents’ back, it would probably be good to do something nice for them. Scooping up the kitten, Louise let Zahara lead her back downstairs.
The makeup artist blinked at her in surprise. “Didn’t I…oh, wow, your sister didn’t tell me she had a twin! She had me make her up as an elf princess.”
“She did?” Louise thought they were going to keep that secret.
“I have a whole box of these cool ear prosthetics.” The makeup artist held up ear tips. “Elfhome parties are very popular.”
Louise’s heart leapt in her chest and she blurted out, “Oh, yes, please,” before she even thought it out.
“Your sister is so cute and funny.” The artist tilted Louise’s head and painted something cool onto her ear tips.
“Yes, she is.” Louise felt the familiar uncomfortable twinge of envy. She couldn’t understand how it was that most people couldn’t tell them apart and yet it was always Jillian who was described as “cute.” What was it that made Jillian prettier? They had nearly the same hair—well, before Louise’s was burned off. Same shade of brown eyes. Same chin. “Can you make me just as cute?”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Louise looked like an elf. The makeup girl somehow made her eyes appear very almond-shaped. The elf ears peeked out between hair extensions braided with ribbons and little silk flowers and pinned cleverly into Louise’s blast-shortened hair. She was dressed in a lovely copper lamé ball gown and had her face and bare shoulders dusted with glitter.
If she ignored how short she was, she looked completely like an elf.
There was the small matter that everyone else was probably made up to be a princess or a mermaid. At least, Jillian was also an elf—wherever she was. Louise hadn’t seen her twin since they’d arrived. Still carrying the purring kitten, Louise went in search of Jillian.
The rest of the party was down the hall, laughing and shrieking loudly. As Louise walked cautiously toward it, she realized she could hear Jillian’s voice slightly above the rest, quoting from their video, The Queen’s Pantaloons. Louise stopped at the doorway, surprised to find that Jillian was the center of attention. Obviously Jillian was using their fame to take over the party. Elle had a stone-hard smile locked into place even though her eyes stormed. All the other girls, though, were laughing as Jillian played the part of the clueless anthropologist, the extremely nearsighted Dr. Forthwright, the only non-ninja scientist from their videos.
“Such fancy needlework.” Jillian held up a facial tissue that was standing in for the lacy pair of oddly shaped underwear. The scene was based on odd wording used in academic papers to describe the elves’ method of dealing with no elastic or zippers to create clothing. “What do you suppose it is? A table dollie? A handkerchief? It has such wonderful perfume.”
“The—the—the Queen’s Pantaloons!” Zahara was standing in as Hairbrush, who they often portrayed as a hapless victim of cultural misunderstandings. She always managed to say the worse possible thing and then react wildly to resulting confusion.