Author's Note:

Hi, everyone! I'm finally back after a v-e-r-y long hiatus! Huzzah! There's no way I can ever apologize enough for leaving you guys hanging for so long. I almost never have time to write during the regular school year, and I'm actually taking a summer course at the moment, so I still can't promise regular updates. But I do want to try and get this story finished before Summer of 2014 is done! As always, read, review, and enjoy! Thanks for sticking with me. Y'all are awesome. :)

Chapter 6: The Telltale Ribbon

"Oh, Isabella!" sobbed Baljeet, his face buried in the comforter. "I am so sorry! I am so, so sorry!..."

Buford grabbed the back of his tunic, yanking him away from the bed.

"Sheesh, nerd! Get a grip. You'll drown her!" he said, gesturing to the big wet spot on the blanket.

"Hey, you are crying, too!" protested Baljeet.

"Well yeah, but I've got one of these," said Buford, holding up a lace-trimmed handkerchief. "I always said that someone should invent reusable tissues."

"W-would you happen to have any extra?" asked Baljeet tremulously. Buford sighed and rolled his eyes, before he held out his hand.

"Here."

"I am not using that one!" said Baljeet. "You have been rubbing it all over your face!"

"I can think of worse things to rub all over your face," glared Buford.

"Point taken," said Baljeet, and he accepted the handkerchief. Buford scrubbed his eyes with the back of his fist, gazing down at Isabella, asleep on her bed of pink feather pillows. Raising his wand, he conjured up a pink rose, which he pushed beneath the princess' folded hands. That may have been a mistake, however, because the sight of the flower prompted a fresh round of wails from Baljeet.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," muttered Buford. "Hey, where's Perry?"

Baljeet hiccupped and looked around.

"There," he said, pointing out onto the little balcony adjoining the tower, where a forlorn little figure leaned against the railing, shoulders slumped. The two of them walked over.

"Perry?" said Buford, peeking around the curtain. The fairy-pus looked up briefly at the sound of Buford's voice, but then returned his gaze to the courtyard far below. Tiny colorful dots were moving around in the setting sun, people who were bustling about in preparation for that night's feast. The faint sounds of music and laughter floated up to them.

"What are we going to do now?" asked Baljeet, wringing out the soaked handkerchief. "How on earth are we supposed to tell the king about Isabella? He trusted us to keep her safe, and we failed. He could have us banished! Or beheaded! Or at the very least, he'll be heartbroken! And Queen Carl, too!" he wailed. "What do we do!? We are doooooomed!—"

"Calm down, nerd!" said Buford, swatting at him. "But as for ideas, I got nuthin'. How 'bout you, Perry?"

The fairy-pus stared straight ahead, determined not to show how much Baljeet's words stung. He felt fairly certain that they wouldn't be beheaded, but Baljeet was darn right that the king would be heartbroken, and it was Perry's fault. The king had trusted him to protect his daughter. He had tried his utmost to protect her, but he had failed.

However, a true hero wasn't judged by whether or not he got knocked down. A true hero was the one who had the courage to get up again afterwards.

Perry's brow furrowed in determination. They may not have been able to prevent the curse taking effect, but there was still opportunity for damage control. He turned to Buford and chattered.

"Huh?"

Perry hopped onto the railing and pointed down to the courtyard below with his wand, before he mimed snoring.

"We'll put the courtyard to sleep?" asked Buford. Perry shook his head, spreading his arms wide.

"The whole castle!" said Baljeet. "That is what he is saying. We will put the whole castle to sleep, until Isabella awakens. That way, we can minimize the amount of emotional pain that the king and queen experience."

"Well, what're we waitin' for, then?" said Buford, shoving Baljeet towards the railing. "Let's go!"

"Wait, wait—!" shrieked Baljeet, but with a push from Buford, he tumbled right over the railing. "Heeeeeeeeeeelp!..."

"Use your wings, dummy!" bellowed Buford. Sure enough, as soon as Baljeet's wings began to flutter, they broke his fall as suddenly as if he'd inflated a parachute. He flew back up to the top of the tower, where Perry allowed them one last look at Isabella before he drew the curtains. Baljeet sniffed. Buford waved sadly.

"Bye, Isabella."

Perry chattered for them to follow, and together the three fairies soared out and over the castle.

Just as Phineas spied the little brown roof amidst the treetops, Ferb's voice suddenly crackled over the loudspeaker.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent into the Fair Forest. Please return your tray tables and seats to the upright and locked position, and flight attendants, please be seated for arrival. Thank you for flying with Ferb Airways."

Phineas smiled. For someone who didn't talk much, Ferb sure seemed to enjoy his little speech.

He made sure he had his seatbelt on and then, gripping the reigns, Phineas steered Gretchen towards a nearby clearing. She swooped down, coming in gracefully for a landing.

"That was awesome!" he cheered, sliding out of the saddle. Gretchen nickered, her wings retracting back into their side panels. Ferb climbed out of the cockpit, pointing to the cottage up ahead.

"Let's see." Phineas consulted their GPS, which displayed a map of the whole forest. "Yep, this should be it. The woodcutter's cottage." He scrutinized it, running a puzzled hand over his chin. "Hmm. Are you sure we're in the right place, Ferb?—I mean, according to the map, this is the only woodcutter's cottage in the whole forest—but I don't see any balloons or anything."

Ferb shrugged.

"Yeah, you're right," said Phineas. "Maybe they just decorated the inside. C'mon!"

Perry gazed at Baljeet, suspended by his underwear from a candle bracket on the wall, and rolled his eyes. Splitting up had been much more efficient in theory.

The fairy-pus gave the snickering Buford a sharp zap with his wand, and the three fairies continued on through the castle, dispersing magical dust with each wave of their wands. Soaring over the battlements, Buford sent the guards to sleep, each one's armor clanking loudly as they slumped down against the wall. Baljeet was in charge of the courtyard and all its partyers. One couple sitting on the edge of the fountain took a tumble into the water. Dancing couples fell asleep where they stood, the musicians all collapsed into one tangled heap of bodies and instruments, and one extremely plump gentleman knocked over the entire buffet table as he slumped onto the soft green grass. Meanwhile, Perry was taking care of throne room. King Monogram was greeting Lawrence and Linda, who had only just arrived. As Perry sprinkled green fairy dust over the members of the court, he caught snatches of their conversation.

"—cannot wait for young Phineas to meet the princess!" Monogram was saying, shaking Lawrence's hand. "Speaking of which, where is the boy?"

"Oh, he had to go and lie down for a bit," said Lawrence. The monarchs seemed not to notice the courtiers collapsing all around them. "Terrific headache, I'm afraid. Isn't that right, Candace?"

"Huh?" said Candace, who was standing a few feet away, nervously biting her lip. "Oh, um, yes!" she said quickly, jumping on the suggestion. "Yes, that's right. A headache. A really big one, too. I mean, enormous! Yeah, he's right upstairs, the poor guy."

"Oh, dear!" said Linda, sounding rather worried. "He seemed just fine this morning! Perhaps I should go up and check on him—"

"NO!" yelped Candace, running between her mother and the grand staircase. "I mean, no. No need to do that, Mom. He's just upstairs. It's not like he's flying all over the kingdom on his big mechanical horse. We should just let him rest. We want him to be in tip-top shape for when he meets the princess, right?"

Her voice was way too loud, and sounded unmistakably fake. She cringed and waited for them to call her bluff.

"Oh…well, I suppose you're right," said Linda after a second.

"Of course you're right, Candace," said King Monogram. "We shall certainly let him rest."

"Yes! Good!" said Candace. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll take care of him, just like you told me to, remember?"

"Aw, aren't you a sweetie," said Linda, smiling at her daughter. Candace nodded, keeping a fake smile plastered on her face until the monarchs were once again absorbed in conversation. She sidled away before she finally let out her breath.

"Whew! That was too close," she said. She glanced backward at her mother. "What am I gonna do!? The celebration is about to start, and gosh knows where Phineas and Ferb are! If Mom finds out I let them slip away, I'm dead!" she gasped. "She'd take away my lute, she'd make me do extra embroidery, and I'd never get to watch Jeremiah in jousting practice again!—"

Above her, Perry rolled his eyes and began to shower dust over the heads of the royal family. As King Monogram's head lolled onto his chest and Linda and Lawrence slumped against one another, Candace continued talking.

"—How can they do this to me!? I mean, come on—who misses their betrothal ceremony to go to a stupid little birthday party—!?"

Mid-wave of his wand, Perry suddenly froze. A half-puff of fairy dust sprinkled down on Candace, whose eyes began to droop at once.

"—all for some random girl that…that they met in the woods…what was her name again?..." She yawned hugely. "Wow. Suddenly I'm so tired…I guess obsessively interfering in the lives of your little brothers…really takes it out of you…"

As Candace sank down beside King Monogram's throne, Perry urgently swooped down.

"Ngngngngng!" he chattered. Hold it, sister! You can't sleep yet!

Luckily, since she'd only gotten half a puff, Candace was still half-awake. Or at least, one-third awake. Perry stomped his webbed foot to get her attention, spreading his arms wide. Hey! Focus! Prince Phineas. You said he met a girl today! What was her name!?

"…I guess I'm just gonna have to go and find them myself…" Candace mumbled. "Even if Phineas and Ferb don't care about their royal duties, I care about mine!...I'll…I'll drag them back to the castle if I have to…"

She was fading fast! Perry snapped his fingers under her nose. Come on! The girl's name!

"…I don't care if…if it is Ella's birthday…they're gonna be sooo…b-busted…!"

With that, Candace's head flopped onto her shoulder, and she immediately began to snore.

Ella! Perry stood rooted to the spot, Isabella's words replaying in his mind.

"Don't worry; I didn't use my real name." Only half of it.

In a flash, he understood everything. The boy that Isabella had met in the woods—the boy that she loved—was none other than Prince Phineas himself! And, on the flip side, Isabella, the undercover princess, was the "random birthday girl" to whom Candace was referring!

Of course, this meant that they had all gone through a heck of a lot of emotional trauma for nothing, but Perry pushed those thoughts aside. He had to focus. If Isabella was the one Phineas had met, this meant that the prince was even now on his way to her party—or what was supposed to be her party.

They had to get back to the cottage. Now!

Phineas reached up, tapping the wooden knocker against the cottage door.

"Isabella?" he called, expecting her to throw open the door with the beaming smile he remembered from the woods. But instead, a raspy voice issued from within. Phineas hoped Isabella didn't have laryngitis. It would be terrible to be sick on your birthday!

"Yes, hello?..." the voice called.

"It's Phineas and Ferb," said the prince. "We're here! And I've got your hair ribbon for you, too. Is the party still on?"

"Oh, yes; of course," the voice said. "I'm just, er—I can't come to the door right now, so you just come right on in."

"Okay, then," said Phineas, and without further ado, he and Ferb pushed open the door. Barely two steps into the cottage, however, Phineas' foot suddenly hit a tripwire, which snapped and sent a small metal cage crashing down onto his head.

"Ouch!" Phineas exclaimed as Isabella's pink ribbon fluttered to the floor. Luckily, though, the cage was made of lightweight metal, and perhaps more luckily, it was far too small. Like a child wearing a cardboard box for a Halloween costume, his feet stuck out the bottom. Ferb helped him pull it off.

"Thanks, bro," said Phineas. "What the heck was that!?—"

No sooner had the question left his mouth than ropes suddenly appeared out of thin air and lashed themselves tightly around the two boys, binding them back-to-back.

"Hey!" Phineas yelled. He heard a chuckle from the shadows, before the tall, black-robed figure of the sorcerer stepped out.

"Ha, ha! Gotcha! I guess the second time's the charm," he said. "Sorry about the cage. I used the largest one I had, but most of them are Fairy-pus-sized."

"Who are you!?" said Phineas.

"I am the evil sorcerer, Malefischmirtz!" he proclaimed, as lightning flashed outside the window and smoke rose up around him. "Witness my magical powers and tremble in fear!..."

Phineas looked at him. After a pause, he shrugged. "I dunno. I'm not really trembling. What about you, Ferb?"

Ferb blinked.

"Aw, nuts!" the sorcerer pouted. "I knew I should have sprung for those wind machines. The whole effect's just not the same without the billowing cloak!"

"Ooo-kay…" said Phineas. He looked around the rest of the cottage, finding it empty and cold. "Hey, where's Ella!?"

"Ella?" said Malefischmirtz, puzzled. "Who's Ella?"

"The girl who lives here! Where is she? What did you do to her!?" demanded Phineas.

"Oh, you mean the Princess Isabella?" laughed the sorcerer. "Oh, don't worry. She's just catching up on some sleep."

"Wait, what?" said Phineas.

"I mean, she's fallen prey to my evil curse!—"

"No, no, before that," said Phineas. "Did you say Ella was a princess?"

"Ooh, I get to do the big reveal!" Malefishmirtz cheered. "Well, you see, the girl that you know as Ella is actually the long-lost princess of Danland!"

"Really?" said Phineas.

"Really," said the sorcerer.

"Wow." Phineas turned back towards Ferb. "Cool. So the same girl that we met in the woods is actually the one I've been engaged to all along! What are the odds?"

"This is starting to sound like a soap opera," said Malefishmirtz. "I thought those hadn't even been invented yet. But, wait—if you're engaged to the princess, then that would mean you're—"

"Right," said Phineas. "I'm the prince of Flynn-Fletcher. One of them, anyway. So is Ferb."

"Really!?" exclaimed Malefishmirtz. "How about that? I set my trap for a peasant boy, and I end up catching a prince!" He laughed. "Now, enough talking. Norm?..."

The entire cottage began to tremble violently, before the edge of the roof suddenly lifted up with a great splintering groan. Phineas' eyes widened as he saw a red-haired, freckled giant in a dark blue tunic peering down at them.

"Yes, sir? Did I just hear your dulcet tones?" asked the giant.

"Bring these two along," said Malefischmirtz, pointing to the boys, "Prince Phineas and, erm, him, the quiet one. They seem to like soap operas, and we've got a rather large TV down in my dungeons!" he cackled.

"Will I still get to watch my One Thousand Ways To Cook An Egg Food Network special?" asked Norm.

"No, no; it's an expression, Norm!" said the sorcerer. "We don't actually have a TV; I was just taunting them, see?"

"What? But then how will I learn how to make perfect scrambled eggs?" cried Norm.

"Enough already!" said Malefishmirtz. "Take them away! But be careful," he said, smiling wickedly as Norm reached in and scooped up the princes. "I've got plans for our royal guests!"

The three fairies tore through the forest like bullets, Perry in the lead. He was flying so fast that it was all Buford and Baljeet could do to keep up with him, trying desperately to duck and weave around the tree trunks and low-hanging branches.

"Wait—so—you're saying—that the—the boy that Isabella met—in the woods—is actually the—the prince!?—" panted Baljeet.

"Don't talk—nerd!" gasped Buford, straining his wings. "Just—concentrate on—flying—AAAH!" he yelled, nearly smashing into a large oak.

Finally, they found the cottage. As they broke through the trees into the clearing, they stopped dead as a terrible sight met their eyes.

"Uh-oh," said Buford.

"This does not look good," Baljeet gulped. The roof had been torn off and was propped against the side of the house, like the lid of a box, and there were huge footprints in the dirt leading away from the cottage. Perry led the charge into the house, where it looked like an earthquake had struck—furniture knocked over, dishes smashed, leftover birthday cake smeared across the floor. Baljeet gasped.

"What in the world could have caused this sort of destruction!?" he said.

Buford picked up a small metal cage that was lying on its side nearby. "Hey, what's this?"

Perry instantly recognized the cage—he had been trapped under it a time or two in his previous encounters with Malefishmirtz! Then his eyes widened as he spotted something soft and pink lying on the dirty floor. He scooped it up, holding it so the others could see.

"Hey, it's Isabella's hair ribbon!" exclaimed Buford as Perry held it up.

"Is that not the one that you gave her just today?" said Baljeet. "The one that she said she gave to the boy in the woods?"

"The prince, dummy, remember?" said Buford.

"Oh, right," said Baljeet, before his eyes grew round. "But wait! If she gave this ribbon to the prince, and the ribbon is here, then—where is Prince Phineas?"

There was a horrible, spiraling silence as they all looked around the wreckage of the cottage. Finally Perry rolled his eyes and chattered.

"Ngngngngng." Isn't it obvious?

"Oh no!" said Buford. "Malefischmirtz's got the prince! Whatta we do now?—"

"Now he will never be able to kiss Isabella!" said Baljeet, his voice rising in panic. "Fairy tales are not supposed to end like this! What are we going to do!?—"

Perry stomped his foot to get their attention, before striking a dramatic pose.

"Ngngngngngng!" We go and rescue him, that's what!

"…Oh," said Buford. "Well, yeah. I guess that's always an option."

"What?" said Baljeet. "But—but we cannot go to Mount Doof! It is dark, and scary—who knows what sort of horrors would be waiting for us there?"

"Ha! Bring it on, Shmirtz-guy!" said Buford, cracking his knuckles. "I don't care what sorta stuff he's got! I'm not scared of nuthin'!"

"Buford, you do not understand!" Baljeet protested. "He could have spiders! Or snakes! Or the walls could be papered with easy math problems!" he shuddered.

"Nerd, we're in the 1400's! Math hasn't even been invented yet!" said Buford.

"Yes, it has!" protested Baljeet. "There was geometry even back in Ancient Greece, over two thousand years ago!"

"Whatever. The point is, we've gotta help Isabella," said Buford. "The prince is the only one who can break the spell! We've gotta go get him, right, Perry?"

Perry nodded, his jaw set in a determined line. You better believe it.