He looks at us incredulously. "Don't you know?" he asks. "I a.s.sumed that's why you came." He grins. "It's a special day in fairyland today. Our new queen is getting married at midnight."

Ugh. I was afraid he was going to say that. Though at least that means we're not too late. If we can get in ...

Suddenly, I realize just what I have to do.

"Of course we've heard," I say in my most authoritative voice. "Seeing as I am ..."

I stop, unable to continue. d.a.m.n it, I forgot I still can't lie. This is going to be more difficult than I thought. I stamp on Jareth's foot to get his attention. Maybe he can lie for me ...

"Ow," he says instead. "What did you do that for?"

"What I'm saying is ..." I turn back to the dwarf. "I am the one who is ..." I shoot Jareth a pleading look. For a thousand-year-old vampire, sometimes he's a bit slow.

"Oh! Right!" he cries, recognition flashing over his face at last. "She's the one who's getting married. Have you not met our beautiful queen? Sunny McDonald?"

The guard narrows his eyes suspiciously. "If you're our queen," he says in a wary voice, "why are you out here and not in the castle? And, did you dye your hair or something? I thought you were supposed to be a blonde."

"Ugh, I know! We had a total hair emergency this morning! Utterly ghastly!" Jareth cries, suddenly completely into the ruse. "But it's all settled now. She's beautiful, isn't she? I mean, just look at the difference a little color makes!" He points to a banner flying above our heads, which has a very good likeness of Sunny's face emblazoned on it. Which, of course, is also, very conveniently, my face.

The guard looks at the banner, then back at me, then at the banner again. His eyes widen and suddenly he's on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. "I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," he blubbers. "Please don't put me in the stocks, I beg of you. I have three little dwarfettes at home and I was only trying to do my job!"

I smile magnanimously. Seriously, I would make the best queen ever if given the chance. "You're forgiven," I tell him. "Like you said, you're only doing your job." I pull him to his feet and kiss the top of his bald head. "But let us through now. We must hurry to get to the ..." I glance up, looking for a landmark. "... the castle," I conclude.

"Yes, yes, of course!" The dwarf steps aside and allows us to go through the turnstiles. "Bless you, m'lady. You're a good soul. Fairyland is honored to have you as their new leader."

I give him a little bow, then hustle Jareth under the elevated train tracks and around the circle, down the replica of Disney's Main Street USA. Cinderella's castle-or I guess Sunny's castle in this case-lies directly in front of us now, shining with a sparkling brilliance you don't see in the real Orlando. Also different? No grumpy, lumpy tourists and crying kids; these streets are packed with fairies-all tall, blond, and beautiful. No wonder my fairy G.o.dmother wasn't happy about her ensemble. The grandma look isn't very big in fairyland.

A couple of brightly dressed fairies point to Jareth and giggle at his wings. He turns bright red. "I'm going to kill Magnus for this," he growls.

"Oh come on," I scold, grabbing his hand. "Enough with the vanity already. We've got a rescue to perform."

But before we can take another step, a set of trumpets sounds. The crowd scurries to clear off the street and we're jostled to the side. Dwarves, dressed in green like the guy at the entrance, walk the street, carrying red velvet ropes to section off the sidewalk.

"What's going on?" Jareth hisses at me.

"I think it might be the three o'clock parade," I reply, as I try to avoid being poked by a fairy wing. Crowds are really tough when you have such large appendages to deal with.

A moment later, the crowd bursts into applause. Sure enough, a fairy marching band heads down the street, playing bright, happy music. They're followed by a set of scantily-clad fairy dancers, prancing down the street merrily.

"This is a waste of time," growls Jareth.

I shrug. We're stuck in the middle of a pack of fairies and there's nothing we can do about it. I watch as three little pigs, accompanied by a snarly wolf, march proudly down the street, followed by a cat wearing boots and a goose laying golden eggs every few feet. Children scurry to grab the eggs and I realize they've got chocolate inside.

Fairy tales come to life. I gotta admit, this is pretty cool.

After a few more fairy-tale favorites, the crowd's roar rises to a nearly deafening level. I strain to see over the throng and finally catch sight of what appears to be Cinderella's crystal carriage heading down the street, drawn by six white horses. I draw in an impressed breath. It's gorgeous.

Then I see who sits inside. Not Cinderella at all.

My sister.

Sunny's dressed in a shimmery ball gown that looks both pure silver and a kaleidoscope of colors, all at the same time. Her hair has been lightened to a platinum blond shade and her large eyes shine with the emerald green color she always wished she'd been born with. Her hands are clasped in her lap, heavy with silver jewelry, and on her back she sports the most gorgeous pair of airy gossamer wings I've ever seen. They sparkle so much they're practically blinding to look at.

"Sunny!" I cry. "Sunny, it's Rayne!" I try to make my way through the crowd, but Jareth grabs me by a wing and yanks me backward.

"Let me go!" I cry. "I need to get to my sister." I turn back to the street. "Sunny! Sunny, it's me!" I call out, desperate to get her attention.

Sunny turns her head slightly, as if she hears me, glancing blankly out into the crowd. Then she gives out a small, Miss America-type wave before folding her hands back in her lap and turning to face front again.

"What's wrong with her?" I cry, turning back to Jareth. "She looked at me as if she didn't recognize me. My own sister!" I swallow back the huge lump that's formed at the back of my throat and wipe the b.l.o.o.d.y tears that would give me away as a vampire.

Jareth squeezes my shoulder comfortingly. "She's obviously undergone some kind of brainwashing," he says. "Which is why we need to exercise caution. Grab her now and she'll think she's being kidnapped rather than rescued."

"Brainwashed and turned into a fairy against her will. My poor sister." I lean against a nearby post. "My poor, poor sister."

I remember her words back at Riverdale. How she just wanted to be a human girl. And now, yet again, fate has worked against her. My heart breaks as I watch her continue down the street, just a sh.e.l.l of her former sweet, pa.s.sionate self. If only I hadn't been so self-involved. I would have noticed she was gone earlier. And maybe I could have rescued her before they transformed her ...

"Stop it, Rayne!" I can dimly feel Jareth shaking me by the shoulders. "Beating yourself up about things is not going to help us here. What's done is done. But it's not too late to save her."

"But how?" I ask, wandering over to an empty alley away from the colorful parade. "There's only two of us. And there's a billion of them. I mean, look at that castle," I add, gesturing to the building. "There's got to be a thousand guards and they've all got very large guns."

Jareth looks over in the direction I'm pointing, then frowns. "Tooth fairy snipers," he says with a scowl. "I was afraid of that."

"Wait, what?"

"Deadly a.s.sa.s.sins with black-market munitions. They travel the world, buying their bullets off young children who've lost their teeth."

Oh-kay then.

Jareth runs a hand through his blond hair. "Maybe we should consider coming back later," he says. "I'm guessing the reason this place is so well-guarded is because of today's wedding. Maybe once it's over-"

"No! We can't let her get married to some fairy!" I protest. "She's gone through enough already." I scrunch my face up, thinking. "We have to figure out a way into the castle."

"But how? Your switcheroo trick isn't going to work, now that everyone's seen the real Sunny," Jareth reminds me. "You may look a lot alike, but your hair is completely different. Not to mention your wings." He gestures to my definitely inferior, stubby-feathered wings.

"Well, at least they're not made of marabou," I grouch as I scan the area, trying to remember if I know any good shortcuts from visiting the real Disney. My eyes fall on a small service door, tucked away into a dark corner. "I've got it!" I exclaim. "We'll go underground."

Jareth looks at me. "Underground?"

"Yes," I reply impatiently, dragging Jareth over to the door. "How do you think employees get from one end of this place to another fast? Dodging tourists? I don't think so. If this place is an exact replica of the Orlando park, which it seems to be, then there are underground tunnels under the whole thing linking all the various sections together."

"That's genius!" Jareth says, looking impressed. "There will certainly be fewer people down there. And we can take out any guards without worrying about tooth fire."

We make sure no one's looking, then quietly slip open the service door and step inside. Sure enough, a set of stairs leads down into the darkness. Luckily, as vampires, we can see well enough in the dark not to need a flashlight.

"Let's go," I say, taking the first step.

We head down into a twisty labyrinth of spider-webbed, dusty pa.s.sages. Evidently the fairies don't use these tunnels as much as the employees of Orlando Disney do. Following various signs posted at each intersection, we make our way toward the castle. We're just about to turn the last corner, when Jareth grabs my arm, his face pale and worried.

"I hear something," he whispers. "Kind of like bells-"

Suddenly, a brilliant white light flashes through the pa.s.sageway and in steps a beautiful blond fairy with a perfect hourgla.s.s figure: big b.r.e.a.s.t.s, tiny waist, and a sparkly green tutu riding low on her perfect hips. My eyes widen as she puts one hand on her hip, her little red mouth set in a deep pout, and she shakes her head no.

I glance over at Jareth, who's staring at the newcomer with shock and recognition in his eyes. "Is that ...?" he starts.

The fairy opens her mouth. But instead of words, all that comes out is the sound of tiny, tinkling bells.

Jareth nods grimly. "Tinkerbell," he affirms.

I stare at the fairy. Tinkerbell? Are you kidding me? Man, this place gets weirder and weirder by the second. My mind races, trying to remember what I know about this legendary fairy from the movies, but I come up blank. All I know is she's supposed to be pint-size-not six feet tall.

I step forward. "Please, Miss Bell," I try to appeal to her. "We need to get to the castle. My sister's getting married there today."

Unfortunately, Tink doesn't seem to care too much about Sunny's impending matrimony or my mission to get to the church on time. She gestures for us to back up, scolding us again in her weird bell language.

"Aw, come on, Tink," I try again. "Have a heart, please."

She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed huff, then reaches into a little green satchel tied to her tiny waist and pulls out a handful of something sparkly.

"Pixie dust," Jareth whispers hoa.r.s.ely. "Rayne, we've got to run."

But before we can even turn around, Tinkerb.i.t.c.h brings the dust to her lips and blows it in our direction. My lungs seize up, filled with sparkles, and I start choking uncontrollably. Beside me, Jareth falls clumsily to the ground, incapacitated.

"The dust," he moans. "Paralyzing ..."

Tinkerbell calmly walks over and grabs his fake wings, yanking them off of his back. She giggles in satisfaction, then turns to me. Behind her, Jareth moans in pain, completely paralyzed.

But I'm not. And now that I've survived the initial dose, I'm perfectly fine. Guess the stuff doesn't work too well on real fairies.

Tinkerbell looks at me, her head c.o.c.ked in question, probably wondering why I'm not paralyzed, too. She reaches for my wing. I slap her hand away.

"They're real," I inform her. "Unlike your b.r.e.a.s.t.s."

Without any more warning, I lunge, slamming my hands into her chest. She tries to take flight, but the tunnel ceilings don't give her enough air s.p.a.ce to take off. Stumbling backward, she flails to maintain her balance, but I charge again, ready to take her down for good this time.

No one paralyzes my boyfriend. Especially not some nasty pixie.

But just as I'm about to knock her down, she snaps her fingers and suddenly she's the pint-size Tinkerbell from the movies again. d.a.m.n it! Flitting around me, she nips at my skin with tiny, sharp teeth.

"Ow!" I cry, swatting at her like a fly. But she's too quick-buzzing at my back and grabbing a handful of hair. She's strong for someone so little and manages to jerk me backward. I lose my balance, careening to the ground, slamming my head against the concrete. Tinkerb.i.t.c.h laughs and floats up toward the ceiling, then dive-bombs down at me, armed with a tiny knife.

The knife, which feels like only a pinp.r.i.c.k due to its diminutive size, gets lodged in my stomach. Tink lands on me, trying to pull her knife free to stab me again, but I close my fingers around her little body before she can fly off.

"Got you!" I cry, pinching her now really tiny waist. She squirms angrily in my grasp, but I hold on tight. I could easily squash her like a bug, but that seems kind of awful. I mean, killing Tinkerbell?

Unfortunately, my good-hearted hesitation gives her the opportunity to poof back to human size and I'm forced to let go. She's now straddling me, knife back in her hand (which, luckily for me, is still pint-size).

Before I can react, she leaps to her feet, giving me a sound kick to the side of the head. The pain reverberates through me as I struggle to keep conscious. But it's not working. I quickly swim into blackness.

Yes, I'm afraid it's true. I, Rayne McDonald, fairy, vampire, vampire-slayer extraordinaire, have just gotten my a.s.s kicked by Tinkerbell.

27.

I wake up on a creaky cot, my back aching and my head pounding like a mother. Sitting up, I look around, trying to take in my surroundings. I appear to be in some kind of dark, dingy jail cell that smells a lot like a septic tank. In the opposite corner, there's a small, dirty sink and a broken toilet filled with brown water. A Saw movie come to life.

I suck in a shaky breath. Okay. I'm alive. That's something at least. d.a.m.n Tinkerbell. If I ever get my hands on that pixie, I'll ...

A deep, familiar groan interrupts my thoughts of revenge. Diving out of bed, I dash to the front of my cell, my fingers brushing the bars. Pain reverberates through me at the touch of metal-a sick burning feeling-and I quickly step back. They must be made of iron-poison to fairies.

Jareth is in the cell across from me, lying prostrate on the ground, bare-chested. Smoke rises from his pure white skin, which has been draped with silver chains. Guess the fairies wanted to make double sure he didn't use his powers to escape, seeing as vampires aren't allergic to iron like fairies are. Thank goodness they must have a.s.sumed I was just one of them, due to my wingspan and immunity to pixie dust. Though the iron bar thing is going to make it very tough to escape.

"Jareth!" I hiss, trying to wake him.

He tosses his head from side to side, still groaning in his sleep, clearly in agony. I bite my lower lip in worry; if he doesn't regain consciousness and remove his chains soon, the silver will kill him.

"Jareth!" I try again, louder this time. "Wake up!"

"Hey, we're trying to sleep over here!" a man cries from the cell directly to my right. I turn to yell back at him, but the words die in my throat as my eyes fall upon two people-a man and a woman-huddled under ratty blankets in the next cell.

"Mom?" I cry, my voice cracking in a mixture of excitement and horror. "Dad?"

The two look up, their faces white with shock. A split second later, they're on their feet and in front of the adjoining cell wall, careful not to touch the bars. Mom reaches through, clasping my hand in hers and squeezing me so tightly at first I wonder if she's going to break bone. But I don't really mind the pain. It's so good to see her again. To see both of them. I hadn't realized how much I missed them until now. My mom's soft scent of honeysuckle. My dad's favorite Old Spice aftershave. I don't know how it's possible they smell so good down here in this dirty fairy jail cell, but somehow they do all the same.

"What are you doing here?" Mom demands. "I thought Heather relocated you somewhere safe."

"Safe isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe Riverdale," I tell them. "And besides, the fairies came and kidnapped Sunny. I had to come rescue her."

Mom's face crumbles and her hands drop to her sides in defeat. "So they did get her after all," she says sorrowfully. "We weren't sure. We were taken prisoner from your dad's condo and have been down here in this cell ever since, begging for an audience with the prime minister."

I stare at her in shock. And here I was complaining about the isolation of Riverdale. Mom and Dad had it a billion times worse.

"I'm so sorry," I cry. "I had no idea ..."

"The prime minister didn't appreciate the fact that we fought back when his soldiers came to collect you two the first time," Dad explains. "We never got a chance to negotiate as we had planned to."

Horror sweeps through me as I remember the fight. How I stabbed Apple b.u.t.ter. How everyone freaked out about it. "It's my fault!" I realize, guilt stabbing me like a sharp stake to the heart. "It's my fault you're here."

"No, no!" Mom cries, shaking her head vehemently. "Rayne, don't blame yourself for one second. We were the ones who ran away from fairyland to begin with. We put you in this position. You only did what you thought was right to protect your family. And you should never, ever be ashamed of that."

I don't know if I can completely accept this, but I decide to move on anyway. I've learned the hard way that guilt is just way too unproductive in these kinds of scenarios. "What about Heather?" I ask. "I thought she was going to go help you with negotiations."