What I Wore to Save the World (28 page)

Epona looked at me. “You must understand: If Colin returns to the human realm as a mortal, he too will forget about all that has happened. As you yourself decreed, Your Majesty,” she added, bowing her head.
“But—wait. I don't want to forget what I know about Morgan, now.” Protectively, Colin put his arm around my shoulders. “It was bloody hard work findin' it out, ye know. I think I'm entitled to keep that information.”
“Can't I also decree that everyone forgets except Colin?” I asked desperately.
“You could, of course. But be careful what you wish for,” Epona warned. “A lifetime of keeping this secret from everyone you know—even the people you love—it will be difficult.”
Colin stared at the ground. Right away I remembered what he'd said to me in the pub.
I'm a straight-shootin' bloke, Mor. I could never go through me whole life keepin' a secret from the whole world. . . .
“I'll do what I have to do to stay with Morgan, then. That's all there is to it,” he said quietly.
“No.” I put my hand on his arm. “I can't ask you to do that. It's not right.” He started to argue but I wouldn't let him. “And I don't want us to have to keep any secrets from each other, either. There's another solution.”
I turned back to Epona. “I want to forget.”
“Whaaaaaaat?” she whinnied, alarmed.
“I may be half-goddess, but I'm part of the human realm too. So let me forget along with them.” I looked up at my royally excellent boyfriend. “There's no way Colin and I would be happy living a life based on lies. And there's no way I can be happy without Colin.”
“Or me without Morgan,” Colin said quickly. Then he turned to me, his eyes full of concern. “But, darlin'—ye want to forget all yer magic adventures? Are ye sure?”
Was I? The locket I wore around my neck felt like it was glowing. From somewhere I heard Granny's voice saying,
It'll remind ye what's important when all else fails. . . .
“Colin, you and me living on opposite sides of the ocean is nothing compared to us living in opposite versions of reality. That's a kind of long-distance relationship nobody could make work.” I reached out and let my fingers touch the side of his face. “Besides, I've had plenty of faery-world adventures. Now I'm ready for some human ones. With you.”
He looked at me so tenderly I started to feel weepy again. “All right,” he said softly. His fingers gently traced the chain of the locket around my neck, until they rested on the delicate silver heart. “But forgettin' feels kind of like a lie too, doesn't it?”
Epona shook her head vigorously until her silver mane flopped from one side to the other. “Remember: Even with the veil, humans never wholly forget the magic realm. The truth of our world will still be known to you, in the way it has always been known: in stories and dreams, in art and the imagination and in the wonder of childhood.” She whinnied, full of feeling. “There are many kinds of magic, after all.”
“Like photosynthesis,” I said, turning to Colin.
“And them blasted Internets,” Grandpap chimed in.
“Indeed.” Epona stamped her front hooves in agreement. “And love is certainly one of them too.”
Mr. McAlister had gotten Titania busy learning how to play Bejeweled on the oPhone, so he took the opportunity to sidle over to us and ask: “But if Morgan forgets she's queen, who will rule the faeries?”
“Don't worry,” I said. “I'm not going to leave without appointing a successor. And I know the perfect person. He's one of the most reliable, trustworthy and bravest people I've ever met. And he's standing right here.”
I turned to my mischievous, scatterbrained, but always clever and loyal faery friend.
“Finnbar.
You
will be king.”
Finnbar was so surprised he almost fell backward into the pool. “
Moi?
Are you insane?”
I put my hands on his shoulders. “You're a natural born problem-solver. Think about it: You figured out how to get me to Wales, you found the Rules of Succession, you ran my campaign
and
you were brave enough to cast the deciding vote. You've been saving the world all along, really.”
“Huh! You have a point about that,” he said thoughtfully. Then he frowned. “But if I'm king, can I still be a part-time librarian? I do so enjoy the work. Mentally it's quite stimulating.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “Being well-informed is one of the requirements of being a good leader.”
Colin slipped off his royal robe and draped it around Finnbar's shoulders. I spread mine at his feet like it was red carpet time at the Teen Choice Awards. Then I took the crown from my head and put it on his.
The moment my crown touched Finnbar's hair, the fireflies zoomed into the air to form a new image over our heads. It was like the front of a slot machine, with three windows scrolling rapidly through different pictures. Cherries, lemons, a crown, another crown, and finally—
“Three crowns?” Grandpap was baffled. “Does that mean we hit the jackpot?”
“Kind of,” I said, suddenly understanding. “It means the prophecy has been fulfilled.”
As one, the unicorns chanted and whinnied:
The Fey and the Folk are safe at last
When the Day of Three Crowns is safely paaaaaaast!
“Today's the day of three crowns,” I explained. “Three rulers in one day: Titania, Morganne and Finnbar.”
And boy,
I thought,
am I glad it wasn't clowns. That would have been really creepy.
Finnbar smacked himself on the forehead. “So
that's
what it means! These prophecies are all alike. Completely inscrutable, and yet if by some accident you stumble upon the right course of action, the prophecy takes the credit!”
Then he adjusted his crown slightly to one side, until he found the perfect, photo op-ready angle. “Given my new position of authority, do you think I should go back to my Mr. Phineas look?” He checked his appearance in the reflecting pool. “The citizens might find it more kingly.”
I shrugged. “That's up to you. But you don't have to be an old guy with gray hair to be in charge.”
“Really?” He smoothed his crimson robe. “I guess for now I'll stay as I am, then. Just your basic royal boy-band heartthrob! But I do like the notion of a long white beard. Perhaps for occasions of state . . .”
Epona turned to the rest of the unicorns, who were now doing stretching exercises and chugging bottles of what looked like Gatorade. “You heard your former queen: Let's give it up for King Finnbar!” She blew a trumpet blast through her horn.
The unicorns, though obviously tired and still on break, generously delivered another round of appropriate revelry. As a surprise finale the dragon swooped down from the sky and used its fiery breath to scorch an illustration into the boardwalk. Coughing from the smoke, the unicorns struggled to finish with a cheer:
Finnbar, Finnbar, he's our king,
For him we'd do most—
cough! cough!
—anything!
Gooooooooooo, Finnbar!
The unicorns gagged and wheezed and ran for their drinks. After a moment, the acrid smoke dissipated and I could see the image the dragon had scorched into the boardwalk. Three crowns, surrounding a massive book, arranged inside a circle . . .
“Fek—three crowns is the Oxford logo!” I blurted. “And I'm supposed to have my alumni interview now—or soon—or was it later? Oh my God, I hope I didn't blow it.”
Mr. McAlister stepped forward. Despite looking like a drowned rat in an antique life jacket, he spoke with tremendous dignity.

I
am an Oxford alumni! And I can personally vouch for your character, leadership ability and civic-mindedness. With your permission, I will be proud to give my highest recommendation to the Special Admissions committee.” He bowed humbly. “Unless you'd rather do your interview with the Archbishop of Canterbury? I shall take no offense if so. You might find it more interesting.”
To be honest, the idea of meeting an archbishop didn't exactly rock my socks. For a minute I thought about requesting Hugh Grant. But that wasn't really necessary, either.
“You'll do fine, Mr. McAlister.” I hugged him, which got my Natalie Portman's Shaved Head T-shirt all wet, but I didn't care. “Thanks for the recommendation.”
King Finnbar inhaled deeply. “Can't the teary goodbyes wait until after dinner? The caterers are here! Mmm, I smell chicken with haricots verts and roasted new potatoes.”
Epona's tail lashed from side to side, and she gave a loud, impatient snort. “All right, all right,” Finnbar said reluctantly. “Let's finish what we've started; that's the kingly thing to do. I'll have a go at this forgetting business, but just to be on the safe side I'll rewind time a bit too. In my experience it's much easier to forget things that haven't happened yet. Mortals, front and center.”
Grandpap and Mr. McAlister stepped forward, followed by a fluttery Titania. Hand in hand, Colin and I joined them.
Holding on to his crown so it wouldn't fly off, King Finnbar suddenly dashed forward and threw his free arm around me.
“Goodbye, dear Morgan! In one way I'll miss you remembering who I am, but in another way it'll be all the more amusing that you don't.” He dabbed his eyes with the edge of his robe. “Of course, if you and Colin have children of your own, ‘Bar-Bar' will be a frequent visitor.”
“Promise?” I tried to smile, but I was kind of choked up myself. He nodded, and I kissed him on the cheek. “See you again someday, Your Majesty.”
“Thanks for all the good times, mate.” Colin gave Finnbar a fond buddy-punch in the arm. “It's been grand to see ye again. Congrats on the king gig. I know ye'll be brilliant.”
“The unicorns will miss you too, Morgan-Morganne, who was queen for less than a day.” Epona's horn started to shimmer, throwing off glittery sparks that gently rained down on me and Colin. “But we're happy that you and your royally excellent boyfriend will remain part of your world. We wish you only joy.”
Then King Finnbar gave the order: “Now forget . . . forget . . . be kind . . . rewind . . .”
I squeezed Colin's hand. My vision started to blur and my limbs felt heavy, like I was drifting off to sleep. “ ‘ Part of Your World'—that's a song from
The Little Mermaid,
” I said dreamily. “It's my sister's favorite movie.”
“Mine too,” a strangely horsey voice replied. “I love all those Disney pictures . . .”
twenty-four
To: Special Admissions Candidate Rawlinson
From: Cornelius Phineas
Subject: FWD: Campus Tour Itinerary
 
As promised, attached please find your printable e-tickets, flight information, schedule of events and other important information about your upcoming campus tour.
 
 
In exchange for the free air travel and other amenities provided by the university, we ask that all Special Admissions Candidates provide ten hours of community service while in residence at Oxford.
Service assignments have been made randomly. You have been assigned to:
THE LIBRARY. As soon as convenient after arrival, please report to the Bodleian Library, Special Collections Department. The librarian will provide you with appropriate training.
Please note that air travel for Special Admissions Candidates has been generously paid for via the donation of AmEx points by individual Oxford alumni. If you would care to send a thank-you note, please write to:
Mr. Devyn McAlister
c/o Castell Cyfareddol,
Tip of the Iceberg Cottage,
Halftime-by-the-Sea,
Wales, U.K. CF89
Note: In consideration of your participation in the campus tour, requirements for an application essay will be waived.
 
 
Congratulations on being selected for this prestigious opportunity, and thank you for your interest in Oxford University.
Sincerely,
 
The Admissions Office
Special Candidates Division
Oxford University
 
 
 
From: Colin O'Grady
To: Morgan Rawlinson
SUBJECT: seems I'm “special”
 
 
Hey luv! How's my girl?
 
I'll be quick because Grandpap's waiting for me to give him a lift, but I had to tell you right away—there's gobsmacking news in today's mail. Seems I've been invited to a “special campus tour” at the last place you'd expect to find a simple Irish lad like me: Oxford U (don't laugh!). The letter says something about choosing promising students from colleges around the U.K. to apply for a “special applicants” transfer program, full scholarship, all expense paid, la de da. And it's this week!!! And I'm going!!!!!
 
 
I'd never picture myself at a school so fancy, but if Oxford offers me a free ride I'd have to seriously consider saying so long to DCU. What do you make of that? And how's your college hunt coming along? Be grand if we could end up at school together for a couple of years.
 
Patty at the bike tour company had a fit when I told her I'd be starting work late to do this Oxford shindig, but she'll get over it. If you want to help me make it up to her, why not work the bike tour with me? We're shorthanded this summer anyway, and it'd be a lovely wild adventure to have you aboard (he says, winkin' like a lovestruck madman).

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