Dancing on Glass

Shards of China

"Would you like portable magic?"  

A little girl looked up at the man who spoke to her, confused. "Portable magic?" she copied and he nodded. She frowned for a moment, trying to envision it then gave up and simply nodded in reply. "If you have any to spare."

Her uncle laughed slightly then reached behind him and pulled something from his bag, holding it out to her.

It was a book.

She took it, looking at it, now even more confused. She had lots of books. They weren't magic.

She looked at him. "It's a book."

"It's a fairytale book," he corrected, reaching down and tapping the leather cover.  "Within these pages is magic. Whenever you pick it up and open the cover, you will release magic."

"I will?"

"You will. And it's a book, so you can take it anywhere with you."

"So, that's why it's portable magic?"

He nodded again. "Books are portable magic," he said with another smile. "And when you're older you'll understand exactly why."

"Can't I understand n—"

"CINDERELLA!"

Cinderella's eyes snapped open in fright at the almighty crash that shook the whole manor.

Sitting bolt upright, her fairytale book that lay on her chest from the night-time readings launched off into the air, coming down with a mighty thud and sending the bluebirds that slept in the rafters whizzing around the ceiling in fright.

"CINDERELLA, GET DOWN HERE!"

Scrambling out of bed, she threw her nightdress to the side and grabbed any of her day dresses, glancing to the window; it wasn't even dawn, why would any of them be awake before ten!?

Rushing all the way down the back stairs into the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway and her hands flew to her mouth.

The dresser – the heavy mahogany dresser! – was lying at an angle, propped up by the kitchen table, the china plates in pieces on the floor.

Her younger stepsister Giselle stood on the far side of the dresser.

After the initial shock of the mess, Cinderella glanced to her sister.

"Are you alright?" she asked, quickly darting down the remaining stone steps.

"Clean it up!" Giselle shouted.

"What happened?" Cinderella asked.

"Shut up and just clean!" Giselle shrieked then both of them froze at the sound of the kitchen door opening.

Slowly, they both looked towards the door then looked at the floor.

Lady Constantia stood in the doorway, slowly tying her robe around her slim waist, her hair pinned at the back of her head rather than in a bonnet and she folded her arm, looking down at the pair of them as Jezabelle stopped in the doorway behind her, looking at her sister and stepsister and at the mess.

"What happened?" Lady Constantia asked calmly, looking between her youngest daughter and her stepdaughter.

"I don't know Stepmother," Cinderella said quickly, "I just came down but it seems Giselle wasn't hurt so—"

"She's lying!" Giselle shouted, cutting her off and pointing a finger at Cinderella, who blinked, staring.

"Giselle," she started, a warning in her tone.