Free Sleeping Beauty, the One Who Took the Really Long Nap by Wendy Mass

breath. What secrets would it tell me?
    Well, it basically told me all about the flora and fauna of the northeast realm. I already knew what types of trees and vegetation grew here. It was so boring I almost fell asleep. I had to shake myself to stay awake. In the process, I shook something out of the book. I bent down to retrieve it.
    It was a thin pamphlet titled “The True and Fascinating Story of a Certain Fairy Who Saved the Princess.” A drawing on the cover showed the same girl-creature who was in my dream. I eagerly opened it. In flowery handwriting was a single paragraph:
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    I, the youngest fairy in the realm, am recording what will likely be my greatest deed in a long, long life. Due to my quick thinking, I was able to lessen a cruel curse made by the eldest fairy in the realm who everyone thought was dead. I alone have ensured Princess Rose’s safe passage through these ten decades. I can say no more, for I do not want the wrong suitors disturbing her. Blessings be on the head of the right one at the right time.
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    That last line sounded familiar. My grandfather! That’s the same thing he told his friend upon returning from the woods. Everything began to fit together. The new castle was created almost a hundred years ago — ten decades. No one saw Queen Melinda’s daughter after that. The name of aflower — Rose. Princess Rose. P.R. The name on the painting! I twisted my head until I could see it again. That must be her lying on the grass. Did her parents order a duplicate castle from the fairy because they needed the old one to hide her? Could she possibly still be alive behind all those vines?
    There was only one way to find out. I ran into the cloakroom and threw on my traveling cloak. The season had grown cold, and I planned on staying in the woods until I got inside that castle. Never had I had such a worthy goal, such a grand mission. My body tingled with anticipation. I was about to tell the bailiff that he was in charge again until my return — but then the bugle blew announcing a visitor. Could my parents be home early from their trip?
    A young man stepped in and shook the snow off his cloak. A page came up behind him, holding two suitcases. The young man spoke. “How have you been, old friend? Looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
    I gaped. “Percival? What are you doing here?”
    â€œWell, I suppose I’ve had worse greetings,” he said with a grin, draping his wet cloak over his page’s outstretched arm. “Did not your father tell you? He invited me to stay at the castle until I am eighteen. He said something about you losing a good friend to the knighthood and that you were taking it very hard. Since there is little chance of me becoming a knight, he thought it would benefit both of us if I came to live at the castle. So … where’s my room?”

For my fifteenth birthday I decided to perform again. Now that I no longer felt defined by my gifts, I was happy to share them. I joyfully tap-danced my way across the stage and then playfully went from the flute to the piano and back again. I had written this piece of music in such a way that it sounded like the piano and flute were having a conversation. The audience loved it, and since I had written it myself, I felt like I could rightly share in some of the praise. I was taking my last bow when I caught a glimpse of something in the back row. Since everyone was standing, I could not see clearly. As the audience began to mill about, though, I saw her. It was the old fairy! The one who had cursed me fifteen years ago! Even though I was an infant at the time, I knew her face. She held up an hourglass and slowly tipped it over. “Tick, tick, tick,” she whispered. Even though she was on the opposite end of the large room, I heard her clearly. Then she vanished. My heart pounded in my chest. I told no one.
    Once the guests left, I ran out to