CHAPTER ONE
A SLIPPER-Y SLOPE, PUN DEFINITELY INTENDED
“Anyone care to enlighten me on what’s happening with this Cinderella scandal, or is this going to be another one of those things I have to discover on my own?” Filomena asks the gang when, after crossing the Bridge to Nowhere high in the mountains above Los Angeles, they arrive back in Never After. After paying the toll to the disgruntled billy goat, Mr. Gruff, they land somewhere on the eastern border of Westphalia, a place that, until very recently, twelve-year-old Filomena thought only existed in her favorite books—and her imagination.
She still can’t quite believe she’s actually walking through a dark and dangerous forest beside the ever-so-dashing Jack the Giant Stalker and his lovable sidekick, Alistair.
“Sure, happy to enlighten,” says Gretel, who has stopped briefly to adjust her bespoke travel cloak. The Cobbler’s fashionable daughter has quickly become one of Filomena’s closest friends and never misses an opportunity to shed light on Never After’s particulars and peculiarities. Gretel explains that they’re back in Never After to get the glass slippers from Cinderella, who is apparently a spoiled brat and not at all an innocent pawn of nefarious stepmother schemes.
“Slippers? I thought it was just the one,” Filomena says.
Gretel waves her hand. “That’s just another fairy tale fallacy. Both glass slippers were stolen. Stolen Slippers, with an S. You can’t wear just one shoe!”
“But didn’t Cinderella own the glass slippers?” Filomena asks.
Gretel looks horrified. “Lies! All lies! They were never hers!”
Filomena knows Gretel is telling the truth, but it’s still hard to believe at times. Despite being a true Nevie at heart (a super superfan of the Never After books, duh—also called a stan by those who spend too much time on the internet), there are things even Filomena doesn’t know.
Filomena remains a little unclear as to which stories are “true” and which are made up. Because, judging from the Never After books, it appears the stories everyone grew up hearing are completely wrong. For instance, the famously evil “thirteenth fairy,” Carabosse—the one who cursed Sleeping Beauty—isn’t evil at all. She is none other than Filomena’s loving aunt. Which makes Filomena … Sleeping Beauty? Since Filomena is in sixth grade and hates going to sleep, it’s hard to believe she could grow up to experience the terrible fate Carabosse foresaw for her (ogres, bloodshed, tragedy; see book one of this series, ha!).
And now, apparently Cinderella is not some sweet orphan forced to escape the wickedness of her stepsisters, but rather some kind of thief?
This is what Filomena is pondering as she ducks under vines and branches, making her way through a land that still feels strange, like a half-forgotten dream. It’s not a place where she feels at home quite yet.
Of course, Westphalia has seen better days. The thorn-covered kingdom finally woke from an enchanted sleep once Filomena and her friends broke the spell holding them captive by chasing away Queen Olga of Orgdale (seriously, go read book one!), but there’s still a long way to go before it returns to its former glory. The once-bustling village square is empty and abandoned, and the fields are barren and fallow after seasons of neglect. Filomena’s not sure how much time has passed in Never After since she went home to North Pasadena. To her it was only a few weeks, but time works differently on this side of the portal. In the time she’s been away, a regent has been installed in the castle, but also the villagers are hoping King Vladimir’s heir will return.
King Vladimir’s heir … That would be Sleeping Beauty, right? Meaning one Filomena Jefferson-Cho of North Pasadena, who also happens to be Princess Eliana of Westphalia? She is the princess of the very kingdom through which they are traveling! And yes, she still has that glowing scar on her forehead … but you can only see it if you say the spell just right. She’s a princess. But she doesn’t feel like a princess.
Anyhoo … are we getting ahead of ourselves? Let’s rewind, shall we?
(Cue traipsing backward through the woods, across the bridge, and to Filomena’s house in North Pasadena, California; back to her doorstep, where Jack, Alistair, and Gretel showed up; back to the dinner table where Filomena sat with her paranoid parents.
Heck, let’s rewind even further than that!)
In her Hollywood studio, Gretel warns the Cobbler’s elves that she’s going away on a little vacay and asks them to screen all her calls. She, of course, packs her bag as if she’s going to Paris—only the highest of high fashion allowed. Never mind that Olga of Orgdale is still out there, plotting her revenge with her terrifying ogre minions. Danger schmanger! Chunky wedges, rhinestone-covered jumpsuits, and cool ripped jeans—check, check, check! She is ready for the next adventure!
Meanwhile, Alistair is grumbling on and on about hunting for cheeseburgers as he and Jack Stalker prepare to embark on yet another life-threatening, world-saving escapade. Ever the reliable one, Jack promises they’ll stop for a quick meal of those so-called “cheeseburgers” once they collect Filomena.
Over in North Pasadena, Filomena’s parents are getting ready to say goodbye to their one precious child, rattling off a checklist of items for her to remember before leaving the house: safety whistle, foghorn, headlamp, and the latest tracking app so they can watch her every footstep while she plunges deep into another world.
“It goes like this, on your face,” says Filomena’s mother helpfully as she straps the headlamp around her daughter’s forehead.
“It’s the best kind; it illuminates up to fifty feet!” adds her dad, who’s rocking on his heels in pride.
“Uhhhh, thanks, guys,” says their dutiful daughter (who will remove it as soon as she is able). Both of her parents are practically beaming—pun definitely intended—with pride.
“Remember,” says her mom. “You are braver than you know.”
Filomena packed all the Never After books she thought she might need for the trip, as well as her trusty Dragon’s Tooth sword that was gifted by the Dragons of the Deep. She may not have asked for the responsibility of setting the stories straight and telling the tales true, and writing the thirteenth book, but now that the job’s hers, it’s one she’s taking very seriously. As seriously as she can, anyway, without knowing exactly what she’s doing. It seems the books are writing themselves, even if she’s somehow helping to complete them by simply surviving the adventures and obstacles that come her way. And sure, she may be a good student and an avid reader to boot, but she’s also still learning her role as the embodiment of the thirteenth fairy’s powers and duties.
Once the gang is all assembled, Filomena follows her friends through the forest, ruminating on Cinderella and what may be the truth behind the one we all think we know so well.
“Do Cinderella’s—I mean, do the Stolen Slippers have anything to do with the prophecy?” she asks, leaves crunching underfoot. She’s so deep in thought, and the others are so intent on getting to where they’re going, that no one seems to notice the shadowy, stealthy presence that has noticed them. And is following them.
“You mean the Prophecy?” says Gretel with a grimace.
Alistair’s face turns pale, and even Jack looks uncomfortable. “No one likes to talk about it,” Jack says quietly.
“Because no one wants it to be true,” says Alistair.
Filomena nods. She doesn’t want to think about it, either. Because if the Prophecy is true, then the worst is yet to come. Jack warned them that even if Olga has indeed returned to Orgdale, her ogres still patrol the edges of Westphalia and keep everyone on their toes. Only a few places in Never After are free from the witch queen’s reign of terror. And though Filomena knows there may be danger lurking nearby, she can’t stay quiet—she has too many questions.
“You guys, Aladdin’s Lamp and Cinderella’s glass slippers are somehow connected to the Prophecy, right?” she asks.
Before anyone can reply, a thunderbolt cracks. A loud boom echoes overhead, rumbling through the sky and making the ground shake beneath their feet. Filomena steadies herself before she can topple over, but just as she gains her footing again, lightning strikes down around her and mocking laughter fills the air—the signature sound of an Ogre’s Wrath.
Whatever was tracking them stealthily is now tracking them not so stealthily.
With all the heroism he can muster, Alistair tackles her to the ground just as another thunderbolt hits and screams, “Look out!”
Or not, she thinks as she slams into the forest floor. Though she’s appreciative of her friend trying to protect her, swan diving face-first into the dirt was not what she had in mind when she imagined returning to this place. Or, at the very least, it’s not what she hoped for.
She certainly can’t say she’s missed this part in particular. The ogre attacks. The imminent danger that seems to follow them at every turn. The near-death experiences. THE HORROR!
Gretel screams, which makes Alistair scream even louder in response.
Filomena winces, seeing as Alistair is still deadweight on top of her. “Hello, still down here!” she grumbles over her ringing ears.
But Alistair can’t seem to hear her. Probably because his heart is trying to pound right out of his chest.
The group looks over at the Cobbler’s daughter. “Gretel! Are you okay?” asks Jack as he rushes to check on her.
“I’m fine!” Gretel shrieks. “But my white jeans—they’re ruined!”
The others let out one combined sigh. Whether it’s due to relief or irritation, no one can be sure.
Filomena would roll her eyes if all this dirt weren’t stuck between her eyelashes. She spits out a mouthful of mud pie. “Hey, G? Next time, can you try to scream only if you’re in trouble? We’ve talked about this.”
“Yeah, we thought you were hurt,” agrees Jack.
Alistair nods. “That is usually why people scream, Gretel.”
Jack shakes his head with a wry smile.
“You guys try getting mud stains out of white denim,” cries Gretel. “Why am I even here?!”
“You’re the one who insisted that we have to get your friend’s shoes back!” argues Jack.
“First of all, they are high-end, one-of-a-kind custom glass slippers with magical properties. Second of all, Hortense is my cousin! Third of all, Filomena’s right, the Prophecy—”
Another thunderbolt cracks, and this time the lightning zaps Gretel’s hairpins and, subsequently, her carefully styled hair. Her eyes bulge as each strand of hair stands at wicked attention. The rest of the crew waits until the last of the hair spray sizzles out.
Jack pats at the tiny sparks and embers on Gretel’s head. He tries not to laugh as Gretel stares at him in disbelief. Then he chuckles nervously, saying, “It looks fine to me.”
Gretel swats his hand away. “I can’t believe my father is relaxing in Boca while I’m here, getting electrocuted and stalked by giant ogres.” She lets out an exaggerated groan.
Filomena, still on the ground, blinks at her friends. “Hey, guys, um, what happened to the sun?”
“Speaking of giant ogres…,” Alistair starts. He clears his throat and points to the gargantuan beast of an ogre that’s now directly behind Gretel, towering over her.
Gretel looks up and says, “I told you!”
A silent moment passes while everyone holds their breath and stares at the giant beast. Then, Gretel screams again. This time the sound is bloodcurdling.
Alistair pops up at once and holds a hand out to Filomena, an apologetic smile on his face. “At least this time she has a reason to scream, am I right?”
Filomena takes his hand, and he yanks her to her feet. She grins back. “You’ve got a point there!”
The vines on Jack’s arms, which he can release and lengthen at will, are busy wrapping around the ogre as he tries to take down the oversized oaf. “Little help, guys?” he calls.
“Oh, right,” says Alistair as he and Filomena unsheathe their Dragon’s Tooth swords. They’re just about to charge the ogre when its face contorts. Its eyes pop open in shock. A loud throaty grunt escapes its mouth, causing the ground to tremble. It starts to sway like it’s about to fall.
Another scream is heard, yet again belonging to Gretel, which is shocking to no one. What is shocking, however, is her incredible rage.
With the fury of, well, a Fury, she stabs the ogre repeatedly—with the pair of heavy-duty fabric scissors that she never travels without. “That’s for my white jeans!” A few quick stabs. The ogre tilts some more. “That’s for my hair!” The ogre drops to its knees, nearly crushing Jack in the process (who just barely leapt out of the way). Another fury of stabs from Gretel. “And that’s for almost squashing my friend!”
The ogre backs away, trips on a branch, and crashes to the ground.
“Okay, Gretel,” says Alistair cautiously, holding his hands out. “I think you got him. Do you mind putting those away?”
“Sorry. Phew, that was like therapy.” Gretel wipes the blades clean of the ogre’s green blood with her hankie. “Oh man, do you think I killed him?” she asks as she sheathes the hot-pink scissors. They slide seamlessly into the tailor-made pocket in her coat, designed solely for situations like this.
Jack shakes his head. “No. Probably just gave him a few cuts. Ogre skin is almost impenetrable. He’s lucky you didn’t use your Dragon’s Tooth sword! But we should disappear before he wakes up!”
“Have you ever looked into anger management?” Filomena teases Gretel as they back away from the fallen ogre. The Cobbler’s daughter works with such demanding clientele in a customer-service setting; Filomena has no idea how she gets through each day without ever cutting anyone with those rhinestone-covered fabric scissors.
Gretel laughs. “No, but I have started journaling recently. It’s a great outlet. Same with salt baths and—”
Another thunderbolt strikes, interrupting her. It’s followed by the sound of massive, booming footsteps that seem to be getting closer and closer.
Alistair cuts in with “Okay, everyone. Can we talk about self-care later? We’ve got a little bit of an ogre-pocalypse here—” A bolt of lightning narrowly misses him as he jumps out of the way. In the same moment, a mighty roar is heard, followed by that all-too-familiar menacing laughter.
A troop of ogres appears, arms swinging as they hack through the dense foliage. Branches and leaves hit the ground just before giant ogre feet stomp over them, crushing them to smithereens. Filomena briefly thinks the ogres are taking the phrase “crisp autumn leaves” to the next level and bets her writer parents would appreciate the imagery. Although they certainly wouldn’t appreciate the irony—or the danger that has found their precious daughter once again.
Filomena and her friends take off running then, with Jack Stalker guarding the rear. He pauses to unleash vines from his arms, tripping the ogres and slowing them down.
“That never gets old, dude,” shouts Alistair with a grin, looking back at Jack.
Filomena smiles. Despite the mud and screaming, the ogres and the near-death experience, she can’t help but think to herself how good it is to be back with her friends. And to be fighting alongside Jack Stalker, the handsome hero of the Never After books. They could always count on Jack, master of those wild vines, to set them free.
copyright © 2022 by Melissa de la Cruz
copyright © 2022 by James Madsen
