The Cinderella Theorem Read online

  I sighed, counted backwards by sevens from one hundred five to calm myself down, and went to finish my report.

  I had just signed it, affirming that everything I included in it was the whole and complete truth, when Calo came back from the map room. “Found your bike.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “Caught in a driftwood pile between the fifth and sixth wood, near Hansel and Gretel’s. I called and they’re on their way here with it. Being washed down the river sort of messed up the auto-pilot, so they have to manually steer it back. Too bad; if the auto-pilot was working properly, it would have made its way back on its own.” He looked at the report in my hand. “Did you finish?”

  “Yes. What do I do with it now?”

  “Give it to me.” He took it. “When you’re an actual Happiologist, you’ll only need Grimm to sign off on it, but since you’re still in training, you need both our signatures.”

  Calo skimmed my report, then we spent the next ten minutes arguing over a piece of data I included. Calo didn’t think the letter from Levi should be in the report.

  “It has no bearing on this case. He received the letter after you had made him Happy. Not only is the letter irrelevant to the case report, but, if you include it, you’ll be invading his privacy.”

  “What?” I looked at Calo, in disbelief. “He got the letter while we were there. He made no attempt to keep us from knowing about the letter or how it affected him.”

  “Even if you choose to ignore the privacy issue, the letter still has no importance on the case. He was already Happy when he got it. Technically, we weren’t even there. You can only include things that are relevant to his Happiness.”

  “But this is relevant! If he—”

  “How, Lily? How is it relevant?” He snatched the Observatory’s most recent report off his desk. “Look at this. What is Arthur’s status?” He shoved the paper at me.

  I looked down the list. “He’s Happy, but that doesn’t mean the letter isn’t—”

  “Yes it does!” Speaking slowly and emphasizing his words, he said, “The letter has had no effect on his State of Happiness. He is Happy. The letter is irrelevant.”

  I took a deep breath. “I think it needs to be on record that Levi is harassing him. Since Levi works for Uppish Senna, then I think it is highly relevant that Arthur has received a letter from him. We could start making random visits, or perhaps we could monitor his mail, or—”

  “Lily, stop. Listen to yourself.” Calo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “If Arthur came to us and said he thought he was in danger of vanishing because of the letter, then we could do the things you suggested. But without his approval, they are invasive and illegal.”

  “But he could vanish—”

  “Lily, we get a report every hour telling us his status. We’d catch anything before it happened.”

  “So that’s just it? We watch him go lower and lower in his levels, not doing anything until he Could Be Happier?”

  “Watching the levels is enough. They’re entitled to have a life of their own. They’re entitled to have changes in their moods without us rushing in to save them every time they’re a little below Happy.”

  “But someone ought to know that Levi’s going after Arthur.”

  “They probably already know.” Calo started straightening the things on his desk.

  “Who already knows?”

  “Kara and the Agency.” He paused. “Well, I assume they know. Kara almost always does. She usually knows before I do. But then, it’s not really my job to—”

  “Who is Kara?”

  “She’s one of the Twelve Dancing Princesses, and she’s head of the Agency.” Seeing I was about to ask another question, he went on, “What’s the Agency? It’s a top-secret group, started by your father and Grimm to monitor and eventually eliminate Sennish presence in Smythe’s SFL.”

  “Like the CIA?”

  Calo looked at me. “I don’t know. What’s the CIA?”

  I shook my head. “Never mind. So they’re working against Levi?”

  He nodded. “And Tandem Tallis and his other agents of Unhappiness.”

  The conversation ended then, because Hannah popped in to say Hansel and Gretel had arrived with my bike. We said goodbye and I left.

  I rode slowly back to the castle. I needed the time to sort out the persistent thoughts in my head. There were five of them.

  (1) I was annoyed by the progressive moving of my stuff to the castle.

  (2) I was worried that I might have made plans with Corrie over the weekend or even said, “Call me.” What if Peridiom or Blaire answered the phone?

  (3) Calo was driving me crazy. Why will he only look at the outcomes and not the causes of Unhappiness? It’s like getting the right answer to an algebra problem, but not knowing how you did it. That is sloppy mathematics, and it will always cause trouble later, when you get into more difficult problems.

  (4) The complexity of Smythe’s SFL continues to astound me. And I am surprised to see order and logic in their world. Tandem Tallis is trying to make everyone vanish. Logically, there would be some kind of resistance group. When you examine it without magic, it makes excellent sense. (Of course, it’s also easy to see the illogical side of this place when you realize they measure Happiness, speak with talking animals, or ride on bikes that doesn’t need steering.)

  (5) If this Kara person usually knows about Levi’s attempts to harass people, does she know about the tango? Does she know about the letter he sent to me? If she does know, has she told Calo?[38]

  When I arrived at the castle, I picked up my key, and headed straight for Arrivhall. Mom was still waiting for her publisher to call when I got to the house. We chatted for a bit. She asked about school and work, and I told her about my successful afternoon with Arthur. When I asked about her day, she told me all about Tressa and Laurel and how she is afraid Tressa might get the Prince after all. Luckily, I was saved from hearing anymore about her imaginary world, because she realized I needed to pack and get to the castle for dinner.

  Carey (the little yellow man) helped me get the luggage to my room. After I unpacked, I found my way to the dining room. My father was already there, speaking quietly with Macon Mind in a corner. They stopped talking when they saw me.

  “Good evening, Princess,” Macon bowed to me.

  “Good evening, Macon,” I said, curtseying. I turned to my father. “Good evening, D—” I broke off abruptly and tried to smile, absolutely uncertain about what to call my father. Instead of finishing or supplying some other name, I stupidly left the greeting hanging there. They both noticed and tried to cover it.

  “Good evening, Lily,” my father smiled awkwardly. “Macon, the Queen will be joining us later. However, the Princess and I will begin dinner now. Please ask Lubcker to bring it in.”

  “Certainly, Your Majesty.” Macon answered, trying hard to look as if he had not noticed my unfinished greeting. He bowed and left.

  “So,” my father said, sitting down, “your mother is still waiting for the West Coast to call?”

  “Yes,” I nodded and sat also. I considered adding more to this answer, but just when I was about to say something like “I’ve never seen Mom wait for the West Coast past seven-thirty,” an annoying thought flitted through my mind. When we do move here, it will be like this every time Mom has to wait for the West Coast to call: awkward and weird. It was so much easier when it was just Mom and me. We could be eating and talking while she waited for the call, and there was no awkwardness and no strange father person.

  If my father noticed the lack of additional information, he did not show it. “I hear, Lily, that congratulations are in order.”

  I looked at him.

  “Grimm says you were very successful at cheering King Arthur this afternoon.”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “He also said you were faster than even some of Calo’s attempts.”

  “Really?” Beating Calo should be in my file as someth
ing known to cheer me.

  “Yes. Grimm was rather pleased. He told me your creativity in making Happiness Plans was a sign of good things to come with you as the Protector.”

  I smiled, blushed, and was saved from answering by Lubcker and company bringing in the food. We continued to have awkward and halting conversation until Mom joined us thirteen minutes later. She was full of news about the West Coast publisher and the plans for her book. It was a relief to have her back. She was the middle of the Venn diagram of our family–the one thing that both circles have in common.[39]

  My annoyed mood continued for the rest of the evening. I was annoyed during the apple pie made of non-poisonous apples from Hemlock, Lady Potio’s estate. I was annoyed while we sipped hot chocolate and watched Shaherzhad’s latest movie. (According to Mom, she is the premier Smythian filmmaker.) And I was annoyed when we all said good night, and the good night I gave to my father was the only one without a name attached to it.

  After I closed the door to my room, I collapsed in my squishy chair. My family’s lack of normality was one factor in my mood. The moving issue was a large factor, also. But, upon examination, I was surprised to find another factor. I was annoyed at myself for being annoyed. I created an equation for the annoyance:

  abnormal family + 2(stealthily moving Lily to Smythe) + being annoyed = annoyance

  I decided to sleep it off.

  ~~~

  Saturday morning began in a better mood, but it was a lost cause after the dragon attack. Macon rushed in during breakfast to tell us Naga was in the third wood, breathing fire, and destroying things. She was also headed straight for our castle. My father jumped up, kissed my mother, hugged me and ran out of the breakfast room shouting, “Get to the fireproof room!”

  In the next instant, Mom grabbed my hand and took off running. A voice began to speak over a PA system (We have a PA system?), “Please do not panic. Make your way to the fireproof room, immediately. This is not a drill.” The same message was repeated over and over again. After three full minutes of running, we came to an elevator. Mom pulled me on and pushed the button labeled fireproof room.

  While breathing deeply, I managed to say, “I’ve never seen that button on the elevator before.” I had traveled the elevators in the castle several times, and so far I had only seen normal elevator buttons.

  “It’s the Enchanted Elevator,” Mom said, between breaths. “Only takes you to magical rooms.”

  The doors opened to let on two guards and a very frightened maid. Mom smiled encouragingly to her. The elevator opened again this time to let on an ancient man. Mom whispered to me that he was the court wizard. (Shouldn’t the wizard be fighting the dragon or something? What is his magic good for, if he can’t fight the dragon?) Finally, the doors opened to the fireproof room.

  I do not know how to mathematically define the fireproof room, but I do know that “room” is not sufficient. It was the largest “room” I had ever seen and was full of bunk beds and couches. Mom led me over to a corner couch. She took a book off the coffee table. “Here, Lily. This will keep you busy while I make sure everyone else is comfortable.” She smiled and winked, “A queen’s job is never done.”

  After she walked away, I looked at the book. It was Descartes’ Discourse on Method. A nice, logical book to read while waiting for a dragon attack. I sighed and opened it.

  ~~~

  Around midnight, we were finally able to leave the fireproof room. Mom woke me up and walked me back to my room. She said it had taken St. George and most of HEA to take care of the problem.

  “So did they kill it or whatever?” I yawned.

  “Kill it?” Mom looked scandalized. “Of course not! Dragons are also citizens of the realm. They deserve to have the same respect we would offer to any human citizens. Really, Lily.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. Clearly we were having trouble with the values of the variables in my dragon equation. I thought taking care of the problem equaled killing the dragon. Mom had a different idea. I tried again, “So what do you mean by ‘they took care of the problem’?”

  “They talked to Naga, determined what had upset her, and helped her find a more constructive solution.”

  “Oh.” Smythian logic is too tiring at midnight. I said good night and went to bed.

  I woke early the next day. I hadn’t done my homework yet, and evidently, I could never be sure a dragon wouldn’t ruin my plans. It was a wonderful day for homework, too. My father and Macon were busy with some sort of paperwork dealing with Naga and her attack. Mom spent the day in the throne room listening to the citizens’ claims for property damage. So while my royal parents dealt with the aftermath of Naga’s tantrum, I finished all my homework without any magical interruptions and still had time to read about Newton. Reading about Newton helped me to break out a little from the annoyed mood I was in. (Newton = negative degrees of annoyance.)

  Mom came by late in the afternoon to get me for tea. On our way, she said, “Lily, I don’t think I’ve mentioned this to you, but as a gesture of goodwill and openness to our subjects, your father and I have decided to issue invitations each week for our Sunday tea. It really goes a long way towards building trust between the royal family and the citizens.” She patted my shoulder. “So remember to be on your best behavior.”

  I managed to get through the tea with lots of fake smiles to cover my annoyance. For normal teenagers, it is annoying to spring guests on them at the last minute. For me, it is infinity annoying to expect me to entertain fairy tale guests when I haven’t had a chance to review their stories or find out who they are.

  I passed the cookies to Minerva, who was a goddesses from Olympus. I made small talk with Paul Bunyan, and avoided the Erlking, who, Paul told me, liked to steal children away from their parents. The other guests were three bears (mother, father, and cub) and a girl with curly blonde hair. I made several attempts to interact with them, but each try met with failure. Every time I got close to one of them, they all got up and changed chairs. I heard the little bear whining about wanting the chair the blonde girl had.

  An hour and a half later, the guests had all gone home. There had been a bit of drama, when the Erlking nearly succeeded in enticing the bear cub to come home with him, but Paul stepped in and broke the spell. Mom and I made our way to Arrivhall (My father had to give Macon a few more instructions). Portaling home was made (annoyingly) easy by our lack of luggage. (Lack of luggage = constant reminder that my parents are slowly moving me and destroying my life.)

  I went to bed on Sunday night with hopes that Monday would begin a new week, with less annoyance and more math. As I slept, I dreamed I was back at Ella’s, in her sunny hallway. I went to the table under the mirror to look through her mail.

  A black envelope was addressed to me.

  I opened it.

  Lily,

  Don’t get too comfortable, dear. You’re just a step away from vanishing.

  Levi

  P.S. I’m airing out a dungeon just for you…

  I dropped the letter and woke to the sound of myself screaming. Peridiom was jumping on my bed, chanting, “Get up! Get up!” I lay there, breathing rapidly for a few seconds, before hurling my pillow at him. Both he and the pillow landed on the floor.

  “You’re late!” he yelled and ran out of my room. I looked at the alarm clock. I was late. Why hadn’t my clock gone off? I checked the back. Somehow, the alarm had been turned off. I touched the alarm button to see if it was still functioning and I felt a sick sensation in my stomach.

  I looked at the finger that had pushed the button. It was greasy.

  14

  Everyone Vanishes

  In spite of my lateness, I sat on the edge of my bed for a few moments; I was tired of being a part of Levi’s evil scheme and I didn’t think I could handle much more of him and his grease. I got up and washed my finger in the bathroom.

  I came back and rushed around, throwing on some clothes and grabbing my book bag. After checking the
time, I calculated there was just enough left to brush my teeth and walk quickly to school. (Breakfast would have to be skipped.)

  My father was already in the bathroom, but since he was only using the mirrorphone, he didn’t bother to close the door. He should have. He was wearing no shirt; only the shorts he slept in and his hair was wild. He stood in front of the mirror, waving his hands and yelling at Macon Mind. It seemed Levi had messed with their alarm too.

  I left my improperly clothed father and went to get my extra toothbrush from the hall closet. I could brush my teeth at the kitchen sink. However, when I opened the closet door, I remembered my extra toothbrush was in my bathroom at Smythe. I sighed, annoyed about fathers without shirts, toothbrushes in different worlds, and alarms that don’t work because greasy sycophants turned them off. I went downstairs and grabbed some gum, not at all cheered by its dual role as breakfast and breath freshener.

  Corrie did not help my annoyed mood. This was unfortunate, because as my best friend she has the greatest probability of solving that equation. Corrie was, in fact, annoyed herself, and she was annoyed at me. She tried to call me this weekend, apparently. Several times. No one ever answered the phone. (I wonder why.)

  “I kept getting your machine. Did you go out of town?”

  “Why didn’t you leave a message?” I asked avoiding the out of town question. I needed time to think of an answer.

  “You know I can’t leave messages, Lily!”

  “Oh. Right.” I had forgotten, but it was true. In addition to being obsessed with punctuality and the effective use of time, Corrie’s father is also extremely concerned with saving money. He says one of the secrets of the phone company tyrants (as he calls them) is that if you don’t leave a message on an answering machine, then you won’t be charged as much. Whether this is true or not, I don’t know, but Corrie told me once she suspected him of listening on the other phone to make sure she didn’t leave messages when she called people.