If the Magic Fits by Susan Maupin Schmid

Author:Susan Maupin Schmid
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2016-10-25T04:00:00+00:00

Considering that the Princess had enough sheets to swaddle all the people in the kingdom with some left over for the horses, I couldn’t imagine why she needed new ones. I wiped my hot, sticky palms on my apron. I didn’t have time for this! I needed to find out what Lindy was up to. I had dragons to thwart. Plots to unmask. A prince to stop.

I needed a dress—now!

The canary eyed me like a yellow sentinel guarding a treasure from a barbarian horde. The dresses played dumb, hanging on their silver hangers all stiff and cool. They didn’t fool me.

I planted a fist on my hip. “You know something is seriously wrong around here, don’t you?” I told that canary. “There’s a plot against the Princess.”

Those black eyes stared back at me without blinking, but a feather in his tail twitched.

“A plot to release those dragons,” I added.

The dresses stirred as if they were murmuring among themselves.

“I was careless with Eighteen. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but…well, I did. I am very sorry.” I paused, letting that soak in.

Then I turned in a full circle so that they could see how serious I was. A couple of dresses perked up, obviously interested. One dodged deeper behind the dress in front of it. The rest waited, still stiff and cool.

“So, are you going to help me? Or are you going to stay mad and let the castle be destroyed?”

The canary glanced at One Hundred. Closest to the window, One Hundred basked in the warm morning light, its satin shimmering like freshly fallen snow. I held my breath; there was something special about One Hundred. The whole closet held its breath too. Precious seconds ticked by. Even now, Lindy might be on her way back, might catch me leaving the closet.

Might start asking questions.

One Hundred shrugged its crystal-embroidered shoulders, throwing a rainbow of sparkles across the floor. My breath escaped with a whoosh. The dresses relaxed. A black sleeve poked timidly out from behind a sapphire taffeta. I walked over to the sleeve. Number Forty-One: velvet black as ebony with a high collar encrusted with pearls. Gold swirls, leaves, and flourishes intertwined with more pearls traced the dress’s sleeves, bodice, and hem.

“You’ll help?” I asked.

The dress extended its sleeve as if to shake hands. So I shook it, careful not to crush the velvet. “Thank you,” I whispered, and slid it off the hanger. The dress hit the floor. I hastened to scoop it up. It weighed as much as a loaded basket of laundry. Would I be able to walk in this?

There wasn’t time to argue, so I stepped into the dress. For a moment, I tottered under the weight, but then the dress hugged me close and became as light as air. I looked in the mirror to see who I was now—a lady greeted me with laughing brown eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She wore a navy-blue dress with a silver emblem pinned to the shoulder.

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