This is the third installment of a novel I’m serializing, posting chapters on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The first chapter is here, and the previous chapter is here. Feel free to spread the word to others who might enjoy it. For updates on when each chapter is posted, you can follow me on Twitter.

Chapter Three

            Dawn’s aunts spent her entire birthday cleaning the house top-to-bottom. She couldn’t think of why they’d made her stay home, since they wouldn’t let her help. They just had her sit nearby and sing for them while they worked. For perhaps the first time in her life, she was tired of singing and desperately wanted to do something else, even pick up a brush and help scrub, but they wouldn’t let her leave whichever room they were working on at the time.

“It will be sunset in a few hours,” Matilda said when they finished scrubbing the bathroom late in the day. She sounded awfully pleased about that.

“That means we’d better hurry and finish,” Mariel said.

“I could help,” Dawn offered.

“No, dear, you just sit and sing like a good girl,” Matilda said, patting her on the top of the head. “Your music makes the work go faster for us.”

“The timing of sunset does vary from place to place,” Miriam said. She picked up her bucket of cleaning tools and led the group through the living room to the kitchen. “Sunset here doesn’t mean anything.”

“Is something supposed to happen at sunset—here or somewhere else?” Dawn asked.

Mariel and Matilda turned to glare at Miriam, who flushed pink. “I only meant that we wanted to have the work done by sunset, but if we didn’t finish, we could console ourselves with the fact that it’s still daylight somewhere,” Miriam said.

Dawn laughed. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I want to stay up past my bedtime. It’s still earlier somewhere else.”

As she followed her aunts through the living room, Dawn glanced at the grandfather clock. It was nearly four, plenty of time after school let out for Lucy to have made it downtown to the theater to check the audition results. Why hadn’t she called yet?

The thought crossed her mind that the aunts might have forgotten to pay the phone bill. She said she needed a bathroom break and stopped by the phone niche in the hallway to check for a dial tone. The phone was still working. Then it occurred to her that it was Lucy’s birthday, too, and her mother was having a big party that night. Lucy was probably busy, and it had been selfish of Dawn to ask her to run an errand for her. She’d find out soon enough if she got the part.

When they finished cleaning, the aunts sent Dawn off to her room to change for dinner. “Your best dress, mind you,” Matilda said. “This is a special occasion. And brush your hair.” Dawn put a record on and hummed softly along with it while she changed into a lacy white dress and put a bow in her hair.

She came back to the living room to find Matilda peering through the curtains into the back yard. “I think the sun has set!” she called out.

Mariel went to the sideboard and poured a red liquid from a crystal decanter into three tiny stemmed glasses, then hesitated, glanced at Dawn, and poured a smaller amount of liquid into a fourth glass. She handed the glasses to the other aunts, then the one with the smallest amount to Dawn. “You are sixteen, after all,” she said with a rare smile. “You might as well get your first taste.”

“Like I told you earlier, the sun sets at different times in different places,” Miriam muttered. “The days may not even line up properly.”

Mariel ignored her and raised her glass. Matilda immediately followed suit, so enthusiastically that some of the liquid sloshed over the rim of her glass. Mariel glared at Miriam until she, too, raised her glass. “To our Dawn on her sixteenth birthday,” Mariel said. “And to the beginning of the rest of her life.” Miriam downed her drink in one gulp, her eyes still narrowed into a frown, while Matilda sipped daintily at hers, her pinky extended. “Go on, drink up,” Mariel encouraged Dawn. Dawn took a sip, then had to gasp for breath. It tasted like a combination of cherries and gasoline. Surely this couldn’t be what the popular kids drank on weekends for fun. Mariel patted her on the back while she sputtered and coughed.

“And now for dinner,” Matilda said, ushering them all to the table.

For once, they didn’t nag at Dawn throughout the meal. Dawn wasn’t sure if that was because it was her birthday or because she was doing everything right. When they’d almost finished dinner, the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Dawn shouted as she jumped out of her chair, nearly tipping it over, and ran to the phone.

However, it wasn’t Lucy telling her she’d be playing Guinevere. It was Jeremy. “Have you talked to Lucy today?” he asked.

“No. She was supposed to call me with the audition results after school, but I haven’t heard from her. Why? Aren’t you supposed to be at her party now?”

“She’s missing.”

“Missing?” she yelped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean no one’s seen her since the end of school. She signed up to take the driving test but didn’t show up, and she hasn’t come home.”

Dawn tried to think of a bright side, some wonderful thing that might have caused Lucy to miss her own birthday party, but nothing came to her. “And here I was, getting mad at her because she didn’t call me with the audition results,” she said, her voice cracking as tears stung her eyes.

“You haven’t talked to her at all today, and she didn’t say anything to you about anywhere she might have gone after school?”

She shook her head before remembering that he couldn’t see that over the phone. “No.” It came out as a sob. “Nothing other than checking the cast list. Maybe I should have called you or her mother earlier, when I didn’t hear from her. You could have started looking sooner.”

The aunts came in from the dining room. Their concerned faces said they’d overheard the conversation. Matilda put an arm around Dawn’s shoulders while Mariel took the phone away from her. “This is Dawn’s Aunt Mariel,” she said into the phone, enunciating very distinctly, as though she was afraid she wouldn’t be understood on the other end. “What has happened?” She frowned as she listened, then said, “I see. That is terrible. Please keep us informed.” She hung up and faced Dawn. “This friend who’s missing, that’s the one who’s wearing your necklace?” she asked, an odd look of fear—and was it relief?—on her face. The other two aunts wore similar expressions. All three of them exchanged glances before their faces went totally blank.

“Yes, it’s Lucy,” Dawn said with a sniffle.

Matilda handed her a lace-edged handkerchief and said, “Let’s go have our dessert.” She guided Dawn back to the dining table and nudged her into her seat, then said to the other aunts, “I’ll need some help putting on the finishing touches.” The three aunts went into the kitchen. Dawn noticed that they hadn’t cleared the table, so she carefully stacked the plates, arranged the silverware on top, and headed for the kitchen.

As she approached the door, she heard Matilda ask, “Do you really think it’s all over?”

Dawn knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she lingered near the door to listen rather than going into the kitchen.

“We haven’t had the signal yet,” Miriam said.

“We wait for the signal,” Mariel confirmed, “but yes, I do believe it may be over, and we were fortunate. The necklace may have some protective properties, but it also served as a form of identification.” She laughed a nervous, shaky laugh. “And to think, those sixteen years of careful hiding and planning might have come to nothing if it hadn’t been for the careless whim of a teenage girl.”

“A generous whim,” Matilda put in.

“Generous, yes, but it may have saved us from disaster. We were very fortunate,” Mariel said. “We never imagined they would find us here, so we were entirely unprepared. If she hadn’t given the necklace, we might have lost her, and now she should be safe because they won’t be looking for her anymore.”

Dawn shook her head in confusion. From the way they talked, she assumed they were referring to the necklace she’d given to Lucy. But sixteen years of hiding? First Lucy disappeared, and now her aunts were talking nonsense. Dawn didn’t know what to think. She bit her lip to fight back a whimper and edged closer to the door so she could hear better.

“What will become of the other girl, though?” Matilda asked.

“That is not our concern,” Mariel said firmly. “Dawn is safe now. That is what is important.”

“It should concern us,” Matilda insisted. She seldom argued with Mariel, but when she did, she stood her ground. “She’s an innocent.”

“They’ll realize soon enough they have the wrong girl,” Miriam said. “I doubt they’ll keep her, then.” But she didn’t sound like she believed it. “At any rate, there’s little we can do about it. We don’t dare take her back without the signal. It would be too dangerous. We’ve been gone nearly sixteen years, and we have no idea what the situation might be. For all we know, Melantha managed to take over even without killing the princess.”

“Still, we should prepare the portal. The signal may come at any time,” Mariel said. “We must be ready to go.”

“And we’ve been in here long enough,” Miriam said. “Hurry and light these candles.”

Dawn rushed back to her seat and tried to look as innocent and as untroubled as she could be with her best friend missing. It was the biggest acting challenge she’d ever faced, keeping her expression from showing the way her brain was spinning.

The aunts returned to the dining room, Mariel carrying a pink-frosted birthday cake covered with candles. They weren’t actually birthday candles but instead were a mix of household candles in various shapes, colors, and sizes. Behind Mariel, Miriam carried a stack of bowls and Matilda held a half gallon of ice cream. In spite of her concerns, Dawn was touched that they’d made the effort. “Oh, this is lovely! Thank you!” she said, not having to fake her gratitude. Still, she couldn’t help but flinch a little when Matilda put a hand on her shoulder as she bent to blow out the candles, and she noticed every single look the aunts exchanged among themselves.

***

            Lucy gave up struggling against her captor soon after they passed through that magical doorway. If she was truly in another world, freeing herself in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t do her a lot of good, and getting free of the guy holding on to her while she was on top of a huge horse running at a decent rate of speed probably wasn’t the smartest idea. She kept herself still, sending off all the body language signals that she’d given up.

Soon, the man holding her did relax his grasp a little, and he took his hand away from her mouth. She had a feeling she could scream her head off and it wouldn’t do her much good, since they were in the middle of a heavy forest. Even if there were people around, for all she knew, they’d be cheering on the guys in black instead of helping her.

“Who are you and where are you taking me?” she asked the guy holding her, then cringed when she realized she sounded like something out of a bad movie. Then again, those were pretty obvious questions, under the circumstances. He didn’t answer or even show any sign that he’d heard her. He’d spoken English—or, at least, she’d heard it as English—when he’d seen her, just before he grabbed her, so she knew he should have understood her. She suspected he had orders not to talk to the prisoner. “Okay, be that way,” she muttered as she rolled her eyes.

After what seemed like an hour of riding, they emerged from the forest and approached a village. The houses were half-timbered and had thatched roofs, and they were clustered together along a narrow, winding road. The men of the village wore loose, belted tunics over leggings and the women wore dresses that were pretty much long versions of the men’s tunics. The rough fabrics, simple design, and worn condition of the clothing told Lucy these must be peasants—that was, if this world was anything like what she knew of earth. She might not pay attention in history class, but she did know her clothing history. In spite of her danger, she couldn’t help but wish she could get a closer look at the fabrics because that might help her design Camelot costumes. Assuming she ever made it home. The town musical was the least of her worries right now.

The people stopped working as the riders came into town, and they hurried to move off the road, which was smart, as the riders didn’t so much as slow down. They didn’t seem to have any qualms about trampling anything in their path. In fact, Lucy was pretty sure they ran over at least one chicken, but she closed her eyes at the last second and didn’t see whether the bird got out of the way in time.

They’d nearly made it through the village when a woman looked up at Lucy, blinked in shock, gasped, and cried out, “They found her!”

Her cry alerted the rest of the villagers, who rushed toward the horsemen, waving hoes and pitchforks. Lucy wasn’t sure what was going on, but if they were trying to rescue her, she was totally in favor of that. She struggled in earnest, hoping that if her captor had to work to hold on to her, he wouldn’t be able to fight. Unfortunately, the other two riders didn’t have anything stopping them, and they pulled their swords and circled back while Lucy’s rider kept going. She couldn’t see what happened, but she heard a roar from the crowd, followed by screams, gasps, and thuds. The screams went on far too long, like either the peasants kept fighting even though they didn’t stand a chance, or the soldiers didn’t want to leave anyone behind. Lucy sagged against her captor in defeat, fighting back tears. Soon, the other two riders rejoined them, and they kept going. Now she knew for a fact that these men were the bad guys and that she did not want to be with them.

The trees thinned as the horses pounded down the road into a river valley. On a hillside across the river loomed a massive castle with a city huddled below it on the slope down to the river. This wasn’t a fairy princess castle, with graceful, gleaming spires. It was a castle that meant business, with thick stone walls and sturdy towers at each corner. It looked to Lucy like the kind of castle that would have a dungeon, and probably even a torture chamber. Suddenly the idea of a castle was much less romantic to her.

They clattered across the bridge and made their way to the castle through crowded, narrow streets. The people on the streets shrank away from the riders. Parents put themselves between the riders and their children. One woman held out a beseeching hand toward Lucy as tears ran down her face. An older man fell to his knees when he saw Lucy. Everywhere she looked, Lucy saw faces without hope, some of them with utter despair.

But what did that have to do with her? Was her being here such a bad thing for these people? She knew she didn’t mean them any harm. Or was it more to do with what awaited her, and they felt sorry for her? No, she decided as she looked into yet another set of despairing eyes, they were worried about what would happen to them. No one got that upset over the fate of a stranger, no matter how nasty that fate might be.

The city seemed to be in the middle of some kind of festival. There were brightly colored banners hanging everywhere, along with floral garlands strung across the street, from rooftop to rooftop. It was even more extreme than Lucy’s hometown’s Christmas decorations, only with less tinsel and no electric lights. If she’d noticed the decorations first, she’d have expected the people to look happy instead of like the world was coming to an end.

Their group rode into the castle courtyard, where a guard yanked Lucy off the horse. He dragged her into the castle, then down one flight of stairs after another. She struggled to keep up with him, often stumbling. She tried to remember each twist and turn so she could find her way out if she got the chance, but she was afraid she was hopelessly lost.

At the end of the final flight of stairs, they arrived in the dungeon—a narrow, torchlit corridor with barred doors set into the walls. The guard took a ring of keys off his belt, unlocked a door, and threw her into a cell, locking the door behind her. She landed on moldy straw that stank, so she jumped back to her feet. The only light in the room came from a tiny barred window set high in one of the walls and from a torch in the hallway outside the barred door. The cell’s stone walls were covered in slimy moss. There were brackets on the wall with chains hanging from them, and she was glad they hadn’t used them on her.

So, she was in a dungeon in another world on her birthday. She was missing her driving test, her own party, and whatever surprise Jeremy had for her. Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to fight them back. She could practically hear her mother’s voice telling her to pull herself together and think about what she could do. The thought of her mother made the tears worse. By now, her mother would surely be wondering where she was—or else she’d think Lucy was pouting about her mom not agreeing to take her to get her driver’s license. She’d just assume Lucy was being childish and dramatic and trying to get attention.

Alone and scared, Lucy couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Armed men didn’t grab girls and haul them away to a dungeon because someone wanted to invite them for tea. She wanted out of there, and she wanted to go home.

“Ah, there you are,” a voice from behind her said, and she spun to see who it was.

There wasn’t anyone there, not that she could see. She got a mini flashlight out of her school backpack and pointed it at all the corners of the cell. The only living thing anywhere near the cell, besides herself, was the little black bird that had slipped between the bars in that window high in the cell wall. “Hello? Who’s there?” she called out. She hoped whoever it was hadn’t seen her crying.

“It’s just me,” the voice said from the window. It looked like the bird was talking. “I heard they finally caught you, so I came to the dungeon to check it out for myself.”

This was impossible. Birds didn’t talk. “You’re talking?” Lucy asked, just to be sure.

“Of course I’m talking. Do you see anyone else? Now, did they hurt you, highness? ’Cause if they did, I’ll have to do something about that.”

She shook her head. “No, they didn’t hurt me.”

“Good. Now, you sit tight. I’m going for help. We’ve got someone on the inside. And don’t touch any spindles.”

He flew away, leaving her with unanswered questions. Like how birds could talk, who “we” was, what a spindle had to do with anything, and what, in general, the hell was going on here.

And, wait a second, did he call her highness? She ran to the window to call after the bird, but then there was yet another voice behind her, coming from the door. “Don’t try it, there’s no escape,” the gruff voice said. She turned around cautiously, wondering what she might see. A talking guard dog, maybe?

But it was just a guard, a human guard. He unlocked the cell door and said, “Come with us. She wants to see you now.”

***

            That night, Dawn was too agitated to sleep. She paced her bedroom, trying to process everything that had happened that day. She knew she was missing information and couldn’t judge from what she’d heard of the aunts’ conversation, but it didn’t sound good. They’d been kind enough to her, but if they were willing to let something bad happen to Lucy, that couldn’t be good, could it? And it sounded like they knew what was going on, but they hadn’t shared any of that with her. Why not? She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

There was a noise from the back yard, and she went to the window to peer out from behind the curtain. The aunts had the doors to the garden shed open and were doing something inside. She heard them through the open window, but what they said didn’t make much sense. Their voices stopped as they backed away from the shed, then there was a flash of light through the shed’s windows and open doorway.

Dawn gasped in surprise and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “There, that should do it,” Mariel said, brushing her hands on her black skirt. “We just step through the portal as soon as the signal comes, and we’ll be home.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Dawn?” Matilda asked. “This will be a very big change for her. She needs time to get adjusted.” Dawn clutched the windowsill to keep herself from falling as her legs went wobbly. She felt like someone had pulled the ground out from under her, leaving her nothing solid to stand on.

“She can get adjusted once she’s there,” Miriam said. “We don’t want to take any chances. She might not want to go, and we can’t take that risk.”

Now Dawn understood why they’d kept her home from school. It wasn’t just that day, it was for good. They were planning to leave. They were going to take her away.

“And what about the other girl?” Matilda asked.

“There’s little question of where she is,” Mariel said. “But perhaps I should go through to let the sisters know so they can intervene, if necessary.”

“Excellent idea,” Matilda said. “I’d feel so much better if we did something to help that poor girl.” Dawn felt a warm glow in her heart for her aunt’s kindness. Matilda always had been the one most like a mother to her.

“Very well, then, I shall go,” Mariel said. She walked into the shed, and the other two closed the door after her. Even after several minutes passed, Mariel didn’t come out of the shed.

Dawn sank down against the wall until she sat on the floor. She was dizzy, but she wasn’t sure if that was because of what she’d just heard and seen or because she’d been holding her breath for so long. The back door opened and closed, and Dawn flung herself across the room into the bed in case they looked in on her. Sure enough, soon her bedroom door opened, and she had to will her body to relax and her breathing to slow and become more even so she’d appear to be asleep instead of agitated. She gave herself half an hour after her bedroom door shut and another door elsewhere in the house opened and shut, then she slid out of bed.

She had to know what was in the shed. It was a compulsion that grew stronger every second—so strong that she nearly forgot to put on shoes before sneaking out of her room to go outside. The shed wasn’t locked, just closed with a latch. She unfastened the latch and eased the door open slowly, hoping it didn’t creak.

Inside the shed was a moonlit garden. She blinked and shook her head. That couldn’t be right. When she looked again, she saw that there was a faintly glowing arch in the shed, through which she saw the garden. Before she realized what she was doing, she took a step toward the arch, then caught herself. More than anything she’d ever wanted in her life—more even than a leading role in Camelot—she wanted to go through that portal. Though she kept her feet planted, her upper body swayed toward it.

On the other side of that glowing arch were the answers to all the questions she’d never thought to ask, like who she was, who her parents were, and where she came from. Based on what her aunts had said, she came from the world of that garden. That’s if they really were her aunts. Now she couldn’t even be sure of that much. Lucy had been taken because she was wearing Dawn’s necklace, because somebody thought she was Dawn, and that meant Dawn could learn who she was by finding Lucy.

Dawn took another step toward the glowing arch, then shook her head to clear it, backed away, and shut the shed door. She wouldn’t get far with nothing but a nightgown, and she wouldn’t get far on her own. She needed to find someone she could trust to help her, and with Lucy gone, that left one person.

Continued in chapter four.

Here’s the second chapter of the serial novel. If you missed chapter one, you can find it here. If you’re enjoying this, please share the links so others can find it.

Chapter Two

            Dawn’s Aunt Mariel met her at the front door before she had a chance to use her key or knock. “It’s late,” Mariel snapped. “Where were you?”

“I had the audition for Camelot this afternoon. Remember, I told you? And it went really, really well!”

“But you’re just now getting home?”

“I stopped by the drugstore afterward to tell Lucy how it went.” Dawn swept past her aunt into the entryway. “And I didn’t want to walk home alone. It wasn’t long until Lucy got off work, and then we could go home together.”

Mariel slammed the door shut and followed Dawn into the living room, asking, “Then what were you doing in the car with that boy?”

“That was just Jeremy giving us a ride home. You’ve met him. Remember? We’ve been friends since we were eleven. Lucy was in the back seat.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss Mariel on the cheek. “You’re so sweet to worry about me.”

The other two aunts came out of the kitchen to join the conversation. Aunt Miriam was shorter and softer than Mariel but was still very stern when she asked “So, nothing’s going on with you and this boy?”

Dawn laughed. “With Jeremy? We’re just friends. Besides, Lucy likes him.”

The three aunts exchanged meaningful looks. “You’ve never done anything like kiss a boy?” Aunt Matilda asked with a teasing smile as she tucked a stray gray curl behind her ear.

“Should I have kissed someone by now? I’m sure I could find a boyfriend if you think I should.”

“No!” Mariel snapped, then said more gently, “It’s not necessary. Everything in its time.”

“We were simply curious,” Matilda added.

Dawn sighed in relief. “Oh, okay. Because I don’t really have time for a boyfriend with play rehearsals and choir and all, and the boys in the drama club don’t seem too interested in having girlfriends.”

Miriam winced and glanced at the others. “Is acting a suitable profession for you?” She sounded almost nervous as she asked the question. “I know you enjoy doing the school plays, but you don’t want to make a career out of it.”

“Of course I do! There’s nothing I want more. All I want to do is go to New York and be a star on Broadway.” With a big grin, she launched into “New York, New York,” linking her elbows with Miriam and Matilda and doing a few kick steps.

Matilda tried to get in step with her, but faltered when Mariel said firmly, “We’ll worry about long-term plans when the time comes. In the meantime, it is time for dinner. Please go wash and change clothes.”

Dawn kept singing as she went down the hall, coming to the big finish as she entered her bedroom. As far as she knew, she was the only kid in school who was expected to dress for dinner, but her aunts were terribly old-fashioned that way. She didn’t mind humoring them, since they’d been so kind to her, bringing her up after her parents had died when she was a baby. She put on a simple black dress that was very much like what her aunts always wore, only without the stiff white collars that made them look like the Puritans in history books, then brushed her hair and tied it back with a faded black ribbon.

As she came out of her room and went down the hall to the living room, she heard the aunts talking. They sounded like they were trying to talk in whispers, only they kept raising the volume to talk over each other. Dawn stood quietly in the hallway so she wouldn’t interrupt their conversation.

“I hate for her to get her hopes up like that,” Matilda said. “What do we do?”

“Time itself will take care of it all,” Mariel said. “We won’t need to do or say anything until the time comes.”

“It will be quite a shock for her, though,” Miriam said.

There was a loud shushing sound, then Mariel whispered, “She should be coming back at any time.”

Dawn tiptoed back to her room, then walked normally down the hallway, singing to herself so they’d hear her coming.

“There you are,” Mariel said when she entered the dining room. “I don’t know how it can take you so long just to change clothes.”

“But you do look nice, dear,” Matilda added, adjusting the ribbon in Dawn’s hair.

Mariel clapped her hands for attention. “Enough talking. It’s time for dinner before it gets cold.”

The four of them gathered around the dining table, which was set with mismatched, chipped china. They followed all the formal etiquette rules as they passed dishes around the table to serve themselves. “No, dear, that’s not how you do it,” Miriam said as Dawn scooped mashed potatoes from a serving dish onto her plate.

“Sit up straight,” Mariel ordered before Dawn could take a bite of food. As soon as she took a bite, Matilda chimed in to tell her to take smaller bites. I’ll be grateful someday when I’m a big star invited to dine with royalty, Dawn told herself.

Mariel opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped and frowned. “Where is your necklace, young lady?”

Dawn touched the base of her throat, only then remembering that she’d given the necklace to Lucy. She was so used to wearing it that she could still feel it hanging around her neck. “I let Lucy wear it.” All three aunts glared at her, so she hurried to explain. “She gave me this bracelet as a birthday gift.” She held up her wrist and shook it. “See, you can add charms. I can get one for each show I do. But I didn’t have anything for her, so I let her wear my necklace, just for her birthday. She has to do an oral report for history class, and I thought she could use a good-luck charm since I won’t be there to cheer her on.”

“How could you—” Mariel began, but Miriam put a hand on her arm.

“I think it’s a lovely gesture,” Miriam said. “It was very sweet of you to let your friend wear your necklace on her birthday.”

Mariel’s eyes went from squinting in a frown to wide with realization, like she was only then figuring something out. A second later, Matilda gasped, then smiled and breathed, “Oooooh.”

“Yes, that was a nice gesture,” Mariel said. “After all, you won’t be seeing anyone tomorrow, and she’ll be out and about, so it’s a good time for her to be wearing that necklace.”

Matilda bounced up from the table. “Dessert time!” She collected their empty plates and disappeared into the kitchen. Dawn let herself sigh with relief that she wasn’t in trouble for giving Lucy the necklace. Moments later, there was a crash and the sound of breaking china. “Mariel!” Matilda cried out from the kitchen.

Mariel jumped up from the table, but Miriam stayed and caught Dawn’s wrist in a tight grasp before Dawn could go help. “I’m sure they can handle it,” she said.

Soon, Matilda came back to the dining room, carrying a tray with a pie and dessert plates. Mariel came behind her, then went around the dining room and living room, shutting the windows, blinds, and drapes. While she did that, Matilda served the pie as though nothing had happened, but Dawn noticed that her face was nearly as pale as her stiff white collar. When Mariel returned to the table, she, too, was unusually pale. The dish Matilda had broken must have been a favorite, Dawn thought.

The four of them ate their dessert in silence, the aunts all looking like they were listening for something. After a while, Dawn wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, or if she heard the sound of hoofbeats on the road outside.

***

            Lucy was having one of the worst birthdays ever. Her mom had left waffles and a gift for her, but it was depressing eating breakfast alone on her birthday. The gift turned out to be a new watch. It was nice enough, and Lucy had been under no illusion that she’d find a new car with a bow on the roof in the driveway, but a watch wasn’t exactly something she’d asked for or needed.

She’d thought she’d done a brilliant job on her history report, but the teacher had disagreed, insisting that a report on sumptuary laws in the Middle Ages didn’t prove that clothes were important to history, and therefore didn’t prove that there was a good reason to read Vogue in class. To top it off, she faced her driver’s test that afternoon, and she wasn’t sure her mother would let her get her license anytime soon, even if she passed. Her mom was still too paranoid about cars after the wreck that had killed Lucy’s dad.

The only bright spot of the day was Dawn’s necklace. It was a constant reminder that she had a sweet, generous best friend. Just having the necklace around her neck made her feel strong and powerful, almost invincible, and she carried that feeling with her as she went to the back parking lot, where the driver’s ed classes were held. Today would be the day she conquered parallel parking and passed the test, and then she’d go home to her birthday dinner and find out what surprise Jeremy had for her. Maybe he’d give her a locket or something heart-shaped to show they weren’t just friends.

Lucy was the first one to show up for driver’s ed, and the teacher hadn’t even arrived yet, so she went over to the nearby ag department animal enclosure to pet the sheep. They were spoiled rotten and rather friendly, but they probably thought she was going to feed them. “Sorry, guys, I don’t have any food,” she told them with a laugh as they competed to get close to her.

She glanced at her new birthday watch and realized that she still had ten minutes before the session started. That was almost enough time to run downtown and check the audition results so she could call Dawn as soon as she got home, but she didn’t want to take the chance of getting stuck to be the last one to drive. With any luck, as the first one there, she’d get dibs on the first turn at the wheel. Then she could take the test and get out of there instead of having to wait around and watch other people drive.

The sound of hoofbeats on the pavement made her look up. It sounded a lot like what she’d heard the night before, only louder and closer. A trio of men on horseback rode from the town to the back parking lot, toward the forest that started just beyond the football practice field. They were dressed all in black, with armor and helmets and swords at their sides, and they wore black cloaks that swirled around them. It looked like someone was taking the Camelot auditions way too seriously.

She thought the men would just ride by on their way to wherever it was they were going, but before they passed her, the leader came to an abrupt halt, raising his hand to signal the other two to stop. Then they all turned to face her. She almost felt like the leader had x-ray vision, from the way he studied her. She was sure he could see every detail of her appearance, and probably the state of her internal organs, as well.

“She is the one!” he shouted, and suddenly all three riders were coming right at her. Her instinct was to run, but she was trapped against the fence. The fence was too high for her to jump, so she could only run along it toward the metal shop. There were usually a few tough guys hanging out in there after school, and while they weren’t what she’d consider chivalrous, they also weren’t opposed to fighting. From what Lucy knew of their reputations, they were very likely armed.

In case they couldn’t resist a damsel in distress, she shouted, “Help! Someone! Please!” as she ran desperately toward the shop.

The shop door opened and a shaggy head stuck out. “Whoa, dude!” the guy said when he saw Lucy running toward him, three black knights at her heels.

“Help me! Do something!” Lucy shouted.

“Like what?”

“Like stop the freaky knights from getting me!”

He tilted his head to stare at the riders. “Whoa, so you mean they’re really there?”

It looked like she couldn’t count on the shop guys taking any initiative, so she made for the shop door, intending to throw herself inside and have the guys weld it shut, if she could make them understand that concept. Unfortunately, the horses were faster than she was, and the riders really knew what they were doing. They turned to ride alongside her, then the leader bent down, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up into the saddle with him. She tried to scream for the shop guys to call the police, but her captor got a hand over her mouth and pinned her against his chest with an arm that felt like a steel beam. The riders wheeled around and galloped into the forest.

They hadn’t been riding long when something loomed ahead of them. Lucy hadn’t explored this end of town much, but she was fairly certain that a giant, glowing gate wasn’t normally there. As they drew closer, Lucy could see that it wasn’t a physical gate. It was more like light in the shape of a gate, and what she saw through it didn’t at all match what was on either side of the opening. It was still a forest, but it was a different kind of forest, old growth hardwoods instead of the pines that surrounded the town. Wherever they were taking her, she had a strong feeling it wasn’t anywhere in Texas.

She held her breath as they neared the gate, and the tingle she felt when they passed through made her gasp. She craned her neck to see around her captor once they were out on the other side, but there was nothing behind them but forest.

She was stuck in another world, the prisoner of a trio of dark knights. This really was the worst birthday ever.

Continued in chapter three.

To entertain and amuse you while you’re stuck at home, I’m serializing a novel I wrote in 2007 but that didn’t sell. It’s a YA portal fantasy that’s a riff on fairy tales. The title is Spindled, which may give a hint as to what fairy tale it’s based on. Please note that I first wrote this several years before Tangled came out, and in fact I was a little irked when I learned about Tangled because I had in mind a whole series, with the next book being Mirrored and another book being, you guessed it, Tangled. I think I’ll post it a chapter at a time on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I may also later (if there’s any demand) create a mailing list for those who’d rather get it that way. So, here’s chapter one.

Chapter One

            “I can’t believe they’re making you stay home on your birthday – on our birthday!” Lucy Jordan fumed.

Her friend Dawn didn’t seem nearly as upset as Lucy was. After an initial flicker of annoyance when she broke the news, she’d gone quickly back to her usual happy self, humming softly as they walked from the high school into the main part of town.

“We’re turning sixteen tomorrow,” Lucy continued. “That’s a big deal. And we always spend our birthday together.” Dawn’s humming took on the tune of “Sixteen Going on Seventeen” from The Sound of Music, and a little skip went into her step. Birds flew down from a nearby tree and picked up the tune as they circled Dawn. Lucy knew what was likely to happen next, so she started talking louder and faster, hoping to hold off the inevitable.

“I know we must be the two biggest dorks in the world, actually wanting to go to school on our birthday, but even being at school has to be better than sitting at home all day. Won’t your aunts even let you come to my house for cake and ice cream after your family dinner?”

Dawn didn’t answer, which Lucy knew was a danger sign. She could practically hear an invisible orchestra playing an intro—though that was probably just the birds that always seemed to follow Dawn around. The timing was particularly bad, as they’d just entered what passed for a downtown area in their tiny East Texas town. That meant there was a potential audience for one of Dawn’s musical numbers.

Sure enough, Dawn began singing “Sixteen Going on Seventeen” out loud, with the birds accompanying her, and just at that moment a convertible full of the most popular girls in school drove by. The weird thing was, the girls turned down their blaring radio to listen. Dawn was that good. Her voice was so sweet and pure that people didn’t mind her odd habit of bursting into song in public. Fortunately, no one joined her and turned it into a big spontaneous production number. Lucy wasn’t sure she could deal with that.

There was no point in asking Dawn any further questions about her aunts’ odd restrictions, since her mind was now off dancing around a gazebo with a junior Nazi messenger boy, so Lucy tried to make herself invisible as she walked through town alongside her. Dawn jumped up onto the benches along the downtown storefronts, leaping from bench to bench as she sang. A Jeep full of football players drove past, and Lucy cringed when they slowed down to watch the show. Only Dawn’s status as the prettiest girl in the school kept her from being labeled an absolute weirdo. Everyone and everything loved Dawn, even if they thought she was strange; They couldn’t help it. Lucy, on the other hand, didn’t have the advantages of beauty and talent, so even being a non-singing extra in one of Dawn’s musical numbers made her wish she could be sucked through a black hole into the Twilight Zone so no one would think she was as odd as Dawn.

The song’s dance break came, and Lucy tried to pick up the conversation where she’d left off while Dawn danced down the sidewalk to the accompaniment of singing birds. “What could be so bad about leaving the house on your sixteenth birthday? We were maybe talking about going to the Dairy Queen after school or you coming to my party. It’s not like we were planning to head to Vegas and get tattoos.”

“Do you think I stand a chance?” Dawn asked after she finished the song and the birds went back to bird-type songs that sounded nothing like anything out of an old musical.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but that wasn’t the show you’re auditioning for.”

“I know. I was just singing something appropriate to our situation to warm up. But do you think I’ll get a part?”

“You’ve won every role you’ve ever gone after. You have a voice that would make Tony winners give up and turn to full-time waitressing in a fit of inferiority. Of course you’ll get the part. You’re the perfect Guinevere.”

“But those were all school plays. This is the community theater. I’ll be up against adults. I’ll be up against people who’ve had actual training, even some who’ve been to drama school.” Her eyes went wide with panic as she clutched at Lucy’s sleeve. “I’ll be competing against my choir teacher!”

“Oh, wow! Do you think Miss Clark would flunk you if you beat her for the role?”

“Why would she do that?” Dawn asked with a frown. “She’d probably give me extra credit for doing so well that I could beat her.” Then she smiled, and it was like the sun coming out after a storm. “You really think I’ll get the part?”

“I know you will.”

Dawn bounced on her toes, clapping in delight. “And you can volunteer to design costumes for the show. Community theater credit will be good for your resume, too.”

Lucy had been to a few community theater productions with Dawn, and she suspected that working on costumes for Camelot would amount to gluing braided trim onto bathrobes. But maybe if Dawn got to play Guinevere, she could design at least one fabulous gown for her. “That would give me something to do this summer other than make ice cream sodas.” Costume designing was really more Dawn’s ambition for Lucy than it was Lucy’s. It was part of Dawn’s grand plan for the two of them to take the New York theater world by storm. Lucy liked making costumes, but she wasn’t sure she wanted that as a career. She wasn’t really sure what she wanted to do with her life, although she’d ruled out anything to do with ice cream, thanks to her part-time job.

They reached the old movie theater that doubled as the home of the community theater. “Now, go knock ’em dead, and come by the store afterward and tell me how it went, okay?”

“Okay!” Dawn was already practically dancing when she opened the theater door and disappeared inside. Lucy couldn’t help but smile as she continued down the street to the corner drugstore where she worked at the soda fountain. It could be a little weird being best friends with someone who seemed to live inside a Broadway musical or a Disney cartoon. Even so, she and Dawn had been as inseparable as Dawn’s three guardian aunts allowed ever since Dawn moved to town in sixth grade and they discovered they had the same birthday.

If the aunts weren’t going to let Dawn out on her birthday, then she’d have to come up with an alternative birthday celebration, Lucy decided. As soon as she’d taken care of the brief after-school rush at the soda fountain, she called her other friend, Jeremy. “The aunts are keeping Dawn home tomorrow,” she said when he answered.

“On her birthday? Why?”

“I don’t know. I’ve given up trying to understand the aunts. They are foreign. Maybe it’s a cultural thing. Anyway, I thought we could do something today. She’s at the audition now. If you want to come to the pharmacy around five-thirty and have a little party when she gets done with her audition, I’ll spring for the ice cream on my employee discount.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

She had to hang up on him without saying good-bye properly because she had customers again, that same group of popular girls who’d driven by earlier. Lucy tried to make herself blend into the surroundings so they wouldn’t recognize her from being around Dawn in musical mode, but they didn’t look past her apron or paper hat and didn’t even acknowledge that they went to school together. Lucy decided not to bring that up while she dished up sugar-free, non-fat frozen yogurts. She didn’t want to be known at school as the soda jerk who hung around with the Disney princess.

She made several more ice cream sodas for kids whose mothers were picking up prescriptions from after-school doctors’ appointments, and then she had a few free moments to come out from behind the soda fountain counter and do some quick shopping. She’d been planning to do that anyway before she got off work, but now she needed to hurry. In the gift section of the store she found something perfect, and the store clerk offered to gift wrap it for her.

Jeremy arrived shortly after five, before Lucy had a chance to duck into the employee bathroom and touch up her hair and makeup. “Oh, you’re early!” she said, her face growing uncomfortably warm. She’d been doing that a lot lately around him, which was very annoying. She’d known him practically since she was born, so it was silly to let herself get flustered around him now. On the other hand, he certainly hadn’t looked like he did now when he was a toddler. He’d hit a growth spurt recently, so he was nearly six feet tall, and his blond hair swept dashingly across his forehead, making him look like he should be brooding in a black-and-white cologne ad. Fortunately, Jeremy never brooded. He was almost as relentlessly good-natured as Dawn.

He sat on one of the stools, spun it around a full circle, then leaned his elbows on the counter. “I thought I ought to come early to make sure I’m here when Dawn shows up,” he said. He gave her a wink and a smile and added, “And I figured you wouldn’t mind the company.”

Lucy held on to the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white. She was absolutely certain that she could take his statement at face value and that he was not flirting with her. He really was just being a good friend, but that didn’t stop her from hoping. It wasn’t as though either of them had paid any attention to anyone else, so they were bound to end up together. He was merely taking his sweet time making a move.

“Not at all,” she said, the pitch of her voice going up to a squeak. She grabbed a towel and set about briskly wiping the counter. In the process, she accidentally knocked over a stack of metal milkshake canisters that fell with a clatter. He reached over and caught them before they rolled onto the floor. Trying to pretend like she wasn’t hoping the earth would swallow her whole, she added, “I’m glad you could make it, since this was short notice.”

“Hey, I couldn’t miss celebrating with my girls.” She made the mistake of looking at him when he said that, and his smile made her legs go watery. Was it possible that he was trying to move them out of the friend zone, and she’d been missing the signals? “And it was actually a pretty boring afternoon, so I needed something to do.”

“Then I’m glad I could come to your rescue,” she said, attempting to sound a little flirtatious. “You will still come over for dinner tomorrow night, right? This doesn’t replace that. I just wanted Dawn to get a chance to celebrate.”

“Of course I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. I’ve even got a surprise for you.” Her heart fluttered at that, but as she was imagining him handing her a gift that he definitely wouldn’t give to just a friend, he added, “I’ve been looking forward to seeing your grandfather again. He’s hilarious.” Her grin froze on her face. He wanted to see her grandfather?

The bells on the side door near the soda fountain jingled, and Dawn waltzed in. “Surprise!” Jeremy called out.

“And happy early birthday!” Lucy added. “It’s not much, but it’s a party.”

Dawn gasped, grinned, and bounced over to take a seat next to Jeremy. “Oh! I can’t believe you did this!” she said. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Her reaction would have been more on-target if they’d decorated the place with streamers and banners and had a band play her theme song as she walked in, but that was typically Dawn.

“We couldn’t let you miss celebrating your birthday,” Jeremy said, as if it had been his idea.

Lucy let it slide, though, instead asking, “How’d the audition go?”

Dawn knitted her perfect forehead into a frown. “I don’t know. I think it went well. I sang okay, and I was one of a few people they asked to stay to sing again. Miss Clark was also one of them, though, and there are only two big roles for women in Camelot. Otherwise, it’s just chorus. I guess I’d be fine with being in the chorus in my first real show, but I really want to be Guinevere.”

“You’ll get it, I’m sure,” Lucy said. “When do you find out?”

A little of the joy faded from Dawn’s eyes. “They’re going to post the cast tomorrow on the box office windows, but I don’t think my aunts will let me out to check. Do you think you could go after school and check for me, then call?”

“Of course. Now, what do you want on your sundae? Ice cream is on me today.”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“I was going to make cupcakes tonight to bring for lunch tomorrow, so this just replaces that. Now, design your own sundae, or I’ll create one for you.”

The mock threat backfired when Dawn clapped her hands and said, “Oh, that’s what I want! Create one for me!”

Now Lucy felt compelled to create the best sundae ever. She hoped Dawn had that effect on the rest of the world, or else she would be in big trouble if she did realize her dream of going to New York and making it on Broadway.

With a flourish, Lucy dropped a cherry on top of an elaborate concoction of hot fudge, caramel, and whipped cream and nudged the dish toward Dawn. She didn’t have to ask Jeremy what he wanted; after a lifetime of friendship she already knew exactly the way he liked his sundae.

Jeremy reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out two envelopes, and handed one to each girl. “It’s a good thing you love that theater, since you’ll be spending a lot of time there,” he said. Lucy and Dawn opened the envelopes to find gift cards for the movie theater. “You don’t even have to take me,” he said. “If you want to use these to see chick flicks together, that’s totally okay. I’ll find something else to do, something manly like camping or hunting, maybe a safari.”

Dawn hugged him. “How about one chick flick for Lucy and me, and then one big action movie with spaceships and explosions for all of us?” she suggested.

“Make it something with sword fights and you’ve got a deal.”

“With our theater, it’s not like there’s much of a choice,” Lucy said as she got out her little wrapped box and slid it across the counter to Dawn. “And this is from me. Happy birthday. I hope you like it.

Dawn unwrapped it, opened the box, and pulled out a charm bracelet with a musical note charm hanging from it. “Since music is your thing,” Lucy explained. “You can add a charm with each role you get. When you’re a big Broadway star, the bracelet will be full.”

Dawn’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s too nice,” she said.

“No, really, it’s not like it’s real gold, or anything.”

“But I didn’t …” she hesitated.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lucy knew Dawn never had any money. She wasn’t even sure the aunts Dawn lived with had jobs. At least, she’d never seen them going to work.

“No, it’s your sixteenth birthday. I need to give you something.” Dawn reached up and took off the necklace she always wore, then leaned over the counter to clasp it around Lucy’s neck. “Here, I want you to have this.”

Lucy was pretty sure it was way nicer than her gift to Dawn was. “I can’t take this. This was your mom’s. It’s too much,” she said, shaking her head and moving to take the necklace off.

Dawn caught Lucy’s wrist. “No, please, take it. At least wear it for our birthday if you won’t keep it. You’ve got that oral report in history class, and you can wear it for good luck.”

“Okay, then,” Lucy agreed. “Just for tomorrow.”

Jeremy faked a sniffle and acted like he had to wring out his imaginary handkerchief. “I’m so moved. Remind me again why I hang out with you two girls?”

“Because you love us,” Dawn said.

“Yeah, there is that. And you smell better than most of the guys in our class. Now, whenever you’re ready to leave work, Lucy, I’d be glad to offer you ladies a ride home.”

Dawn and Jeremy pitched in to help Lucy clean up the soda fountain, then the three of them piled into Jeremy’s mother’s car. He drove to Dawn’s house first and waited until she got to her front porch before backing the car away. Lucy watched Dawn’s front door open and an angry aunt greet her with stiff posture and jerky gestures. The door slammed shut behind them.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Lucy asked. “That whole thing about keeping her home from school on her birthday seems weird. Maybe we should tell someone.”

He put on the brakes, stopping the car at the end of Dawn’s driveway. “Well, you could always plead your case to the aunts. I’ll wait here for you.”

“No! Like they’d even listen to me, and it could cause problems if they are up to something.”

He laughed as he finished pulling out of the driveway. “Lucy, you’re letting your imagination run away with you. This is just one day they’re not letting her do what she wants—really, what you want. She doesn’t seem too upset about it.”

“She doesn’t get upset about anything.”

“You know, you may be right. Okay, tonight we’ll rescue her from the nefarious clutches of her evil aunts. Wear something black and bring a rope and a flashlight. Oh, and maybe some snacks and bottled water. Things could get rough.”

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

“That’s because you’re cute when you’re paranoid.”

Before she could find a way to ask what he meant by “cute,” he pulled into his driveway. “Thanks for the lift,” she said, then she noticed that her own driveway next door was empty. “It looks like Mom is working late tonight.”

“Do you want to come over for dinner? I’m sure my mom won’t mind.”

She hesitated. She hated to turn down the chance to spend more time with Jeremy, but she did have things to do. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d better get dinner ready for when Mom comes home, and I have that oral report for history.”

“The one you got assigned as punishment for reading a magazine in class?”

She rolled her eyes. “That teacher’s out to get me. But, hey, want to do something after school tomorrow? I don’t have to work. They’re giving me my birthday off.”

“Sorry, Luce, but I’m supposed to help with the Cub Scouts tomorrow. I will see you later at the big bash, though.”

She forced her voice to sound casual. “Oh, okay. Well, good night. See you in the morning.” Her house felt particularly empty when she unlocked the door. A note on the refrigerator told her that her mother would be home at seven, so she set to work making spaghetti sauce, all the while stewing over Dawn’s situation. No matter what Jeremy said, she was sure something odd was going on.

A noise from outside startled her. It sounded almost like hoofbeats on the road, but this town wasn’t quite rural enough to have horses on city streets. She went to the front window to check and saw her mother’s car pulling into the driveway.

Her mother set the table while Lucy finished getting dinner ready, then the two of them sat down to eat. “I’m working the early shift tomorrow, so I’m off to bed right after dinner,” her mom said between bites of spaghetti. “I hate to leave you alone in the morning on your birthday, but I wanted to get home in time to have everything ready at night. What time do you think you’ll get home?”

Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have to work. Dawn’s aunts are making her stay home and Jeremy has a scouting thing, so I could get home at any time you want me.”

“Think of something to do. I’ll need time to set up without the birthday girl underfoot.”

“I could see if there’s still a slot open to take the final driving test. I was going to do it later in the week since I thought I’d be busy on my birthday, but …” She shrugged as her voice trailed off.

Her mother frowned. “You think you’re ready?”

“I have a little trouble with parallel parking, but I think I can do well enough to get the driver’s ed certificate, and then I’ll be able to get my license. Can you get off work early enough later in the week to take me to the DPS after school?”

Her mom concentrated on twirling her spaghetti as she said, “We’ll see.”

It was the kind of “we’ll see” that usually meant “no,” but one look at her mother’s face was enough to keep Lucy from pushing the point. Instead, she served herself more salad and changed the subject. “Say, when you were coming home, did you see any horses outside?”

“Horses?”

“I thought I heard hoofbeats.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “In our neighborhood?”

“Near enough for me to hear them.”

Her mother put her fork down. “Lucy.” She said a lot with that one word, managing to fit in weariness, disbelief, and a distinct shortage of patience with childish flights of fancy.

“I’m not making it up,” Lucy insisted. “Though I guess I could have imagined it. And I was just asking if you saw anything because I was checking to see if I really heard it. I wasn’t trying to get attention or being dramatic, or anything like that.” She got up and started clearing the table. “I’ll do a load of laundry while I’m doing homework, so if you’ve got anything you want washed, put it out before you go to bed.” Both of them gave up trying to make conversation after that.

Later, when Lucy’s mom had gone to bed and Lucy was in the living room doing her homework, she heard the hoofbeats again. She went straight to the front window and pulled the curtain aside just in time to see a black horse disappearing around the corner, heading toward Dawn’s street.

Continued in chapter two. Or you can get the whole book.