The Fairy Godmother by Mercedes Lackey Read Free Book Online Page A

People from outside of town wouldn’t be afraid of Madame. They would know that Madame would never stir out into the countryside to find the fly-away stepdaughter. There was still a chance, a good chance….
    But as the shadows stretched across the square, as time passed and stalls and booths closed, as the line of women thinned, and finally the two lines of those who wished to be hired were combined into one, men to the right, women to the left, her hopes thinned also.
    Still, she stayed. Stayed as the last of the food-stalls closedand there was no one left but a dubious-looking sausage-seller hawking equally dubious sausages, as even the disagreeable-looking cook was trundled away by a cross old man. She stayed, until the sun was setting and there was no one left except her, the dispirited sausage-seller, and one other. This was a gangly boy with no tokens of experience, all elbows and knees, wearing clothing that was three sizes too big for him apparently made of tent-canvas. There was another person as well, but he was not hoping for hire—this was the father that was keeping the boy company.
    â€œY’ant t’ go naow?” the man said to the boy, who shook his head stubbornly, though his face bore an expression that was as desperate as Elena felt.
    The moment the last of the sun went below the horizon, she would have to go. The Fair would be over, and there would be no chance of finding a place until next year. Oh, officially it wasn’t over until midnight, but no one would be here , looking for someone to hire, after the sun set.
    Laundry, she thought, despondently. I can take in laundry. At least, as long as I can keep the creditors from taking the house. I can keep those hens that Blanche offered me. The kitchen garden will feed them and me both. At least, as long as I can keep the creditors from taking the house—
    Then, just as the sun sank behind the buildings to touch the horizon, came an unexpected noise—
    It came from the street leading into the square, the sound of hooves and wheels rattling on the cobbles. Which was odd—the stall-holders would not come to take down their booths and stalls until tomorrow, and anyone coming tostay at the inn was already there. Could it be—was there the slightest chance—?
    She looked up, peering down towards the street.
    The vehicle rattled into the square; an odd little dog-cart, driven by a little old lady dressed in a quite eccentric outfit of clothing. It could have been gypsy clothing, if gypsies were neat as a pin, impeccably groomed, and wore beautifully sewn and ornamented garments that looked far newer than Elena’s. It was certainly bright enough to be gypsy clothing; scarlet boots with black stitching, blue skirt embroidered with red and yellow flowers and green leaves, black bodice, yellow blouse, scarlet vest, and wildly embroidered black shawl. The old woman wore her hair in a fat knot at the back of her head, from which little curling wisps were escaping.
    The cart was as odd as the driver, also scarlet, painted all over in multicolored flowers. And the horse—or perhaps, pony—was the oddest of all. It was grey with huge eyes, had floppy ears, a hunched back, and was no bigger than a mastiff, but it was wildly strong, for it pulled that cart with no perceptible effort at all, and looked altogether jaunty and proud of itself. And it wore a straw hat, both floppy ears pulled through holes and falling over the brim.
    â€œAh!” the old lady said, pulling up in front of Elena. “Good. You haven’t gone home; that speaks well for your spirit! I’m very glad to see it. Would you like a position?”
    â€œAh—” Elena said, looking startled, into a pair of the bluest, kindest eyes she had ever seen. Someone kind— She did not even have to think. It didn’t matter what was wanted. “Ah—yes! Yes, please!”
    â€œIn with you then, my dear!” the old lady said,