A single three-letter word lying there in the soil. Mimi stared at it, then found back at the squirrel. Oh, my. An enchanted squirrel.

The squirrel had to be enchanted. Or something. For now he pointed one furry little paw at the word.

"Run," Mimi repeated. "Run where?" The castle was surrounded by trees and Mimi had never left the place anyway. The idea was terrifying. Her, lost in the woods, with only a brilliant squirrel as help. And that was if he joined her.

The squirrel pointed again.

While she knew, more or less, she had been under a spell, it was quite another entirely to think about it for a useful period of time. A spell. Of course. Of course she should run. It was not at all intelligent to be the one hanging about suffering when one was not a princess fated to be rescued. But Lavender's spell was subtle, that much was certain. It only made sense that if she were to be subtle as well… How incredibly stupid was she? She should have realized this long before a mere squirrel told her what to do. She had to get to her father. He was only the most powerful sorcerer for kingdoms around.

She reached her father's door before any spell of Lavender's held her back, but just before her fist made contact with the door it stopped. This was wrong and Lavender would not like it. A fairy spell. Wow. For years she had been under the spell of a fairy. No, she could not consider how exciting that was! She had to dismiss the sudden excitement and giddiness and she had to knock! She forced her hand back and forth once more, twice more, but nothing happened. She wanted to cry.

She sullenly returned to the kitchen, the incident with the squirrel seeming more like a dream with every step. She had bread to bake and the herb task had been horribly interrupted. She slumped over the table and stared at the dough. She was under a spell, knew about it, and could still do nothing. Never mind the sheer simplicity of the spell. There was nothing she could do and there were chores to be done. For example, the fire was going out.

As Mimi turned to the fire, an idea slowly formed in her head. It had been quite some time since she had realized she was under a spell. In the beginning of that knowledge she had tried to fight the spell, by refusing to do things, but Lavender was so slow and cunning in the spell that Mimi had run out of the obvious. Exactly what did the spell forbidding her from doing?

She grabbed a broom and stuck the bristles into the fire. With her makeshift torch blazing she ran back to Weatherbold's door and proceeded to light it on fire. Her firemaking skills had suddenly come in handy. The door was of old wood and the surrounding was stone. Soon enough the entire door was ablaze.

Apparently Lavender's spell had not thought of preventing that. The spell wanted her to go get water and not just to put out the flame. Cooking required water. Ah, to cook a pot of soup on a dungeon door.

Weatherbold was easily lost in his own world, but after about five minutes the flame instantly vanished. Half the door was gone, and through the charred hole was his stunned face.

She nearly gasped. He looked like he had not slept since she had last seen him. Dark circles framed his eyes, which looked like full moons in his sunken, unshaven face. But they found their way to his daughter, and it was several seconds before they widened in recognition. "Mimi?" he said dreamily.

Mimi couldn't speak. She just threw his arms around his waist.

"Mimi?" he repeated. "What's going on?"

She pushed away from him and stared up at his face. "How long have you been working?"

His mouth moved slightly. "I…"

"When was the last time you slept?"

He shook his head. He seemed like he had been jolted. "I don't remember. I was studying something. It was so fascinating, Mimi, you would have loved to see it, and…"

Apparently Lavender's spell could have been fought, because the next thing he said was "Lavender."

He took the liberty of opening the door through which Mimi could easily step. "Come in, Mimi. We need to talk."

He was back to being the father she remembered, determined in whatever he was working. There were at least seven cauldrons boiling out multi-colored steam, but he marched right past them. When he could walk no further without running into a shelf he turned. "A spell." Yes, he was aware. "A spell. I can't believe this. A spell cast right on me."

Mimi nodded. How silly they had both been!

He pointed a finger at her. "You said something once. I know you did."

"I said something five times," she corrected. It was the truth.

"See? A spell. I don't even remember those." He shook his head, fortunately looking more alive. "My drink. Every night. She took it back to the kitchen to put something in it."

She quickly told him about the squirrel. He seemed utterly at peace with the idea of a literate squirrel. "The squirrel sounded urgent," he said. "We had best move soon."

"What are you going to do?" Mimi asked.

"I've studied hard," he said. "I'm sure I can outwit a fairy desperate enough to marry a mortal."

"But she's your wife."

"Mimi, I have never loved anyone other than your mother. Or you."

She found herself smiling. "I love you, too."

He began tearing books off his shelf. "Clearly, I have a terrible way of expressing it. Letting this happen to you. How long has it been?"

"Two years," she said hesitantly. "At least."

He looked sick. "I am so sorry. When I married her I didn't know…"

"Father, neither of us did."

He finally selected a book. He threw it on the nearest table and tore it open. It was an old dusty thing, not particularly thick but covered in scrawling print and drawings. "I know I can…"

The spell still tugged at Mimi. Not strong enough to get her back into the kitchen, but it did give a realization. "Father, she's going to be up soon."

He looked up at her, face determined. "Meet me at noon, when she's eating. Outside. I should be ready by then."

"What are you going to do?"

"You're my daughter. I'm going to get you somewhere safe. Until then, act as if nothing had happened."

"But I burned your door."

He snapped his fingers. "The door is fixed. Get going."

Mimi's heart pounded. She wanted to run and scream and do a thousand other things. But somehow or another she got herself back into the kitchen. By the time Lavender was up and about, she was pulling fresh bread from the oven. The kitchen was swept, dishes were soaking, and a load of laundry was set to be washed.

Lavender ate well enough. Mimi never exactly studied her while she ate. She did not know how to tell if Lavender were eating or acting out of character. All Mimi could feel was her pounding heart and the exhilaration that soon Lavender would be out of their lives.

Thank-you, Squirrel. Wherever he was.

Lavender finished her breakfast. She left to do whatever she did. Mimi washed dishes, cleaned, laundered. She weeded and watered the gardens and set out mouse traps. She hung wet clothes out to dry.

If Lavender were a fairy, couldn't she do her own chores?

But Mimi was done. This was going to be the last day. Perhaps not the traditional story, but exciting in its own way.

And, if she had understood her father correctly, she would finally be leaving the castle.

She fixed lunch for Lavender. Roast peasant with bread and glacier lily salad.

"It looks delicious," she said. "You are becoming a most accomplished cook, Mimi."

"Thank-you," Mimi said demurely.

"Perhaps you would like to join me?" That was not an unheard of request. Sometimes she pretended she was congenial.

"No, thank-you. The weeds are especially fierce today and I can't let them take over my beans. You know how beans are."

"Yes, they can be quite temperamental. Good girl to think of it. Well, I'll be eating this, so don't let me keep you."

"Thank-you." Mimi turned, headed to the kitchen, and then outside. The spring air was warm and the sun was bright. She took a deep breath and waited for Weatherbold. Hopefully he would come soon.

The minutes marched by. She became anxious. She stared into the garden to count the plants. Name them. It could calm her. Finally, footsteps sounded behind her.

"Father, I—"

It wasn't her father. Before Mimi could even think Lavender's surprisingly strong hand was clasped over her mouth. Her hand was not empty. Many things, small, hard things, were forced into her open mouth. She tried to spit them back, but Lavender was powerful and they were small enough to swallow. At one point Mimi bit at Lavender's fingers, and some things spilled. Lavender choked her hand around Mimi's wrist and quickly scooped up the fallen. She tried to tear away, but the things were forced down her throat.

Except…

Except out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw the squirrel. He stared at her, terrified, but in his paws was a little seed she did not recognize. She wanted to call out to him, but at that moment Lavender threw her to the ground.

She found myself too weak to get up. "Where's Father?"

She smiled wickedly. How could she ever have been considered beautiful? "That is no concern of yours, is it? You have your own right now."

Mimi stared at her arm. It was turning a pale shade of grey. Tiny lines scaled through. She tried to scream, but a strange sound came out, something inhuman. And she was shrinking. Soon her dress fell around her. Her bare skin tickled as it became ridiculously soft.

"You were a goose to think you could sneak around my back," she said. "So that is what you will become. A goose."

"I hate you!" Good, she still had her voice.

"I don't care. I hope you enjoy your new life."

Mimi was fully a goose by then. It was an entirely unique experience and she was not sure how else to describe it.

It had been an incredibly weird morning.