Hello Invisible Friends.  I’m not here.

I’m here.

My fabulous in-laws are flying us out to Tampa, Florida, to stay in a gorgeous condo smack on the beach.  The gorgeous, white beach.  With dolphins.  Lots of dolphins.

I am beyond excited.

So while I’m making new friends with the sea crabs and dolphins, I’ve left Queen Bitty in charge.   Since she’s too busy being coddled by my mother, who’s watching them while we’re gone, she has decreed:

“The week of July 20 through 24 shall hereby be known as Story Week, in which the Blond Duck will provide double editions of Twirl and the Gift. The Coconut Queen shall be saved until she returns, as I have my own announcement I wish to share.  Since the Blond Duck will not have a computer or Internet access at the beach, it is only fair each edition of the stories will be extra long, to keep us (me) amused until her return.  Especially due to the fact she will not be able to comment on her Invisible Friend’s blogs. How dare she!”

“If the Blond Duck does not comply, I shall be forced to take disciplinary measures of the most unpleasant nature….”

Well.

Excuse me.

I better get writing.

For those who don’t know, the Gift is the story of Samantha, a grad student who discovered a strange gift while staying with her friends at her parent’s vacation cabin over winter break.  After traveling to her old friend’s bar to try to determine the origin of the strange necklace she received, she suddenly found herself in the enchanted forests of Ireland being pursued by a secret admirer.

Now, an Elf Prince has decided to make her his bride–whether she wants to or not.  As she struggles to escape, her childhood love Rouge and friends must fight to rescue her…as soon as they get out of the dungeon.  And the wedding is at sunset…

Can her friends and loser boyfriend Jeremy save her before she gets trapped in a real-life fairy tale?  Read on…

To read previous issues of The Gift, look under the Never Ending Stories Tab…

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She was running, sprinting.  Tripping over her long silver train, she stumbled down the mountain.  Behind her, she could hear the Prince roaring and the beat of a million elf soldiers’ feet pounding into the ground.  They would catch her soon, she knew.  She was hampered by this gown, by these jewels…Screaming, she tore his necklace from her neck, his bracelet from her wrist.  The shattered as soon as they hit the ground, a pile of silver dust.

If she didn’t hurry, she would share the jewels fate.

It’s just a dream, she told herself, gasping for breath as her feet propelled her forward.  A nightmare.  When you wake up, you’ll be back home.  You’ll go to the mall with Ashley and Cleo.  You’ll finish your thesis and find a job.

Not even her mind could speculate on a life without Rouge.

She ran straight into him, her face colliding with his brocade vest and velvet coat.  She looked into his furious eyes, crying out as he pulled her to him.

“You’re forgetting one thing,” the Prince snarled.  “Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it’s not real.  You’re mine.  Mine forever.  No mortal man can change that.”  He jammed the ring she had thrown on her finger and her tears fell at his feet…

She would live in this nightmare for an eternity.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————-

“If this wasn’t so creepy, it’d be a pretty wedding,” Ashley muttered to Cleo.   They stood at the entrance of a stony path, hidden behind a arch of thick green leaves and flowers.  The guests, elves and fairies with the occasional dwarf or mermaid in a bucket, murmured amongst themselves.  Ashley shifted, moving the handbag she wore around her chest so it was hidden by the ostentacious bouquet she carried.

“I wish we’d been able to find Rouge,” Aine muttered, her small head popping out of the bag.  She inhaled the flowers and choked, waving a hand in front of her face.  “Whatever you do, don’t smell those.”

“Why?” Ashley asked.  Cleo immediately dropped her bouquet, wiping her nose that had moments earlier been buried in the blossoms.

“The flowers are drenched with dark magic,” Aine coughed, her face red as she wheezed.  “We’ve got to have a clear head.  Cleo’s safe because of her necklace, but I better do something about yours.  Hand me that leaf over there.”  Ashley obeyed.  Aine crumpled up the leave in her hands until it was nothing but a soft green powder.  Blowing it over the bouquet, she coughed again and wiped her nose.  “Ok.  You’re fine now.”

“Thanks.”  Ashley peered through the bushes ahead.  “Oh dear.”

“What?”  Cleo’s eyes widened.

“Rouge and Jeremy are…groomsmen!” Ashley cried.  “They’re up there with the prince.”

“Are you serious?” Cleo whispered.

“Typical,” Aine muttered.  “The Prince is likely twisting their minds around, playing games with him.  He knows Rouge loves Samantha and wants him to suffer.”

“What about Jeremy?” Cleo asked.

Aine shrugged.  “What about him?  He’s just…there.”

“So true,” Ashley muttered.  Her face lit up and she nudged the handbag around her chest.  “Hey, Aine!  What if you scurry over to him and tell him our plan?  Otherwise, this could all go really badly.”

“She can’t do that!” Cleo hissed.  “The Prince is right there!”

“He’d recongize me,” Aine agreed, shaking her head so hard the purse bounced.  “I’m not exactly on good terms with the castle.”

“Can you please tell me what happened?” Ashley demanded.  “You keep hinting you were a prisioner here.  I’m dying to know.”

“Me too.”  Cleo nodded, leaning in as if they were sharing secrets at a slumber party.

“Fine.”  Aine huffed and crossed her arms.  “Years ago, I helped one of the brides escape.”

“I thought one bride only escaped,” Ashley replied, her forehead wrinkled.  “Elisa was the only one who escaped, right?”

“Yes,” Aine snapped.  “I wasn’t exactly subtle about it.  And apparently, I haven’t learned my lesson well have I?  I still haven’t learned to keep to my own affairs.”

“Why didn’t you two act like you knew each other?” Cleo asked.

“Because her dream self doesn’t recognize me,” Aine replied.  “Not completely, anyway.  Her real self would.  Now can we stop sharing and get on with this?”

“But nothing is”–  As if on cue, the trumpets sounded.  One of the guards, his face hidden by a grey hood, marched up behind them, dragging Samantha along.  Her limp arm was threaded through his elbow, her eyes staring straight ahead at nothing.  Her feet moved one in front of the other, her body jerking awkwardly with every step.  Ashley peered at the gaurd, peeking into his hood.  She gasped.

“Brogan!”

“What?” he snapped, his grey eyes flicking to blue.  “This is a serious ceremony, madam.  Must you bellow as if we’re in a pub?”

“Brogan, you can help us,” Ashley whispered, moving slowly ahead as the music boomed over them.  “I’ll give you whatever jewels you want.  Anything.  Just help us.”

“Help you do what?” he muttered, steering Samantha down the aisle.  Cleo stepped ahead of Ashley with a wink.   Pausing in the center of the arch, she crept down the aisle. Ashley whirled around, putting her hand in the middle of Brogan’s chest.

“We’re going to get Samantha out of here,” she whispered.  “She can’t marry the Prince.  Rouge loves her.”  Brogan’s face remained smooth as a stone.  Ashley grit her teeth.  “Listen, Brogan, I know you’re not as high and mighty as you pretend to be,” she hissed.  “Now, you know these two love each other and the Prince is a total jerk.  What do you have to lose?”

“My life,” Brogan said bluntly.

“What if I could give you a charm of protection?” Ashley asked.  She pointed to the necklace around Cleo’s neck, glimmering in the sunlight as she walked down the aisle.   His eyes widened greedily.  “Or something like this?”  She indicated the jewels the elves had placed around her own neck, at her wrists.

Brogan shook his head and licked his lips, staring at Samantha.  “I want that.”  He pointed and Ashley swallowed a groan of despair.

“Do you promise to help?” she asked, her hands trembling.  Cleo had reached the center of the aisle.  It was her turn.  “Promise?”

“If you get me that, then I swear,” he replied.

“Sure you don’t want something else?”Ashley asked hopefully.  “Maybe one of the Prince’s rings?”

Brogan made a face.  “None of his jewels are exquisite as that,” he replied bluntly.  “I want to sell it and leave here.  Make my own way.”

“Ok.  We have a deal.”  They shook hands.  Turning, Ashley took a deep breath and began slowly stepping down the aisle.

“This gets worse and worse…” Aine muttered from the handbag.  “How the hell are we supposed to get her engagement ring?  It’s magic!  We’ll have to chop her finger off!”

“I don’t know,” Ashley muttered.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————-

“She’s mine, you know.”  The prince’s voice was low enough for only Rouge and Jeremy to hear, betrayed by his blinding smile as he waved at guests.

“She’ll never be yours,” Rouge snorted, shifting in his uncomfortable suit.  “She’s not an object.”

“Dude, I don’t mean to complain, but these outfits suck,” Jeremy whined.  “A tux is more comfortable then this.”

“You could return to the dungeon, if you like,” the Prince replied, raising one eyebrow.  “And be stripped naked like an naimal.  Would that be more comfortable?”

Jeremy wisely kept his mouth closed.

“The minute she received that box, she was mine,” the Prince cooed to Rouge.  “And now, I rule her dreams.  I rule her fantasies.  I am her only thought, her only wish.”

Rouge snorted.  “In your dreams, maybe.”

The Prince’s smile slipped.  “What makes you think you deserve her?”

“I don’t,” Rouge replied simply.  “It’s her place to decide who she loves.  I just want to give her that choice.”

“Ah,” the Prince purred.  “But she has already chosen.  She has chosen me.”

“No,” Rouge corrected.  “You put her under a spell.  There’s a difference.”

“A dream and a spell is all the same.”  The prince shrugged.  “Both are so real, yet not so.”

“I’m so confused,” Jeremy muttered, rubbing his head.  “When do we eat?”

The troll from the dungeons, standing with the soldiers, drooled automatically at Jeremy’s words.  Suddenly, the trumpets blared and the high-pitched organ began playing a song Rouge knew too well.

A cold hand touched his arm.  He glanced to his left and jumped.  It couldn’t be her.  She was in her sixities, in California his grandmother had said.  But her nose… her chin.

Yes. The ghostly apparition nodded, eyeing the prince warily.  I’m your aunt Elisa.  At least, part of her.  But that’s not important now.  Don’t speak, just think.

Can anyone else see you? Rouge asked, forcing himself to think rather than say it aloud.

No.  I’m still up in the castle.  This is just a daydream.  But real, all the same.

Jeremy was right, Rouge thought bitterly.  This is confusing. He watched Cleo walk down the aisle, her eyes meeting his shyly.

That’s not important now, Elisa continued.  He returned his attention to her ghostly face.  What’s important is that you save Samantha.  Remember what the fairies said:

“Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with the golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

I intend to, Rouge replied.  I have a plan.

Hopefully it includes staying alive. The ghostly form vanished.  Rouge found himself watching Ashley step slowly down the aisle, moving as fast as a snail could crawl.  She looked over at him, her lips moving rapidly.  He shrugged, shaking his head.  She bit her lip and mouthed something again.  Rouge shook his head, pressing his lips together.  If only they had taken sign language.

The trumpets blared, and the guests stood.  Rouge turned his head and felt part of his heart die.

She was a vision.  Clad in a soft silver gown so delicate it must have been spun from spiderwebs and dew drops, she glided down the aisle on a guard’s arm.  Her dark hair had been twisted in curls topped by a tiara and her face was shrouded in a thick white veil.  Her dress dragged behind her for yards, tumbling and rolling over the stony path.  Behind her, Rouge could see the sun just peeking over the horizon as it turned in for the night.  Lanterns carved of rubies and iron burned overhead and fireflies danced in the air.

And then he saw her eyes.  He clamped his teeth together, fighting back the roar bubbling within him.  He could feel her, trapped within her own body, behind her own glass eyes.  She was there, buried deep within, trapped by the Prince’s spell.

With a smirk, the Prince stepped forward and took her lifeless hand.  He raised her veil and the guard stepped back.  She stared into space as the elf leading the ceremony began to speak.

“Dear Creatures, we are gathered here today….”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends! We’ve got the second part of this double story edition coming up and two extra long Twirls for you to enjoy this week! Remember, I don’t have Internet access at the beach so I won’ t be able to visit you until I get back!  Stay tuned!