This section was written in consideration of the actual fairy tale, which I shall now quote for your comparison "They got through the journey without accident, and the wizard soon released his daughter."-Andrew Lang translation, Violet Fairy Book

A skeleton. Of all things that could be her stepmother, she had to be a skeleton. Mimi stared at the pile of ashes and bones as she tried to put together in her mind what had exactly happened.

"What did I just do?" Jacob said softly. His stare happened to be on the kitchen knife. His face was now white and it seemed quite possible he would soon faint.

"Oops," was all Blake could say from the shelf. "I was just trying to… I'm not sure what I was trying to do."

"Be a hero," Mimi said happily. At least this was something to be happy about, despite the bizarreness. "You were a hero."

"And now there's a pile of ashes." He rose back on his squirrel feet and laughed. "I've done it. I've helped kill her."

Feelings were coming together now. Ashes. Bones. Lavender dead. Should she feel so happy about a dead person? Yet she did and it was delightful. "Thank-you. You've protected me. As you said you would."

"So I did." Blake sounded surprised, but he bowed his low squirrel bow.

Jacob regained his senses, grabbed the jar containing Abe, and opened it. He sighed in relief as he pulled the guinea pig out. "He's alive."

And her father?

As if reading her mind, he checked the owl. "He's breathing. They're both fine." He returned to Abe. "Wake up, you idiot boy."

Abe stirred.

Oh, good.

Jacob set him down on the shelf as he came to, little eyes blinking wildly and mouth sucking in air.

"I'm not dead," Abe said. "I'm still a guinea pig. Unless I am dead and I'm wear the preacher said I'd go and part of that is being a guinea pig."

Blake laughed out loud. "You're fine, Abe. You're fine."

Abe stared at the pile of dust. "What…"

"Lavender," Mimi said quickly, letting the name explain everything.

"That's disgusting." But Abe's voice was impressed. "I don't understand. What happened?"

"She's dead. Blake knocked over her jar of magic and Jacob stabbed her."

Jacob had returned to staring at the knife. He still did not seem to have noticed what was left of the body.

No time to worry about these boys. She flew to the shelf where her father was. "Father!"

He did not reply. But he was breathing. Good strong owl breathing or whatever that was. That was good except for the fact that she preferred him awake.

Blake appeared next to her. "What did she do to him?"

They looked up as the knife clattered to the floor. Jacob was frowning, looking more like his old self as color returned to his face. It did not take him long to get over slaying an old enemy. "All right, then. Now what? Blake and I have just killed the only person capable of switching you all back."

And so they had. Or no they hadn't. Weatherbold was the greatest sorcerer in kingdoms around. "Father!" she screamed again.

He hooted softly, but his eyes did not open.

With a goosey snarl she turned from him. At least he was alive and all right. Now to look at the jars. Seeds. She had swallowed seeds. Seeds she had never even had a chance to see before they were forced down her throat. "Blake, recognize anything?"

"Why do you think I was up here?"

"Trying to save me?"

Jacob was already at the door. "Do any of you still recognize your herbs?"

If Mimi had hands she would throw a jar at him. Blake only shook his head.

Maybe they shouldn't have been so hasty in killing Lavender. Maybe they could have threatened her. It was working. Had it not been? Until Blake knocked over the jar…

Something stirred near her, then coughed. "Mimi?"

She whirled around, feathers flying. "Father!"

It was so odd to see him as an owl, and yet she herself was a goose. What was more odd?

Weatherbold stood up, as owls would, talons grabbing at the edge of the shelf. "What happened?"

"Sir!" Blake rushed over and bowed. "Are you all right?"

"She slipped me something," Weatherbold muttered. "She was always slipping me things. She forced this one on me. Mimi, are you all right?"

Mimi nodded. If she could hug him she would. "Lavender's gone."

"What?" Her father stared at the floor, owl eyes wide, though that could have been just the owl aspect. They took in the sight of the dust and bones. For a few moments he said nothing. Then he began to laugh. "Who did this?"

"I did, sir," Blake replied. "With the help of Jacob over there."

Jacob was looking at Weatherbold with no particular interest. "If you are really Mimi's father the great sorcerer, they're probably going to need your help."

"And who is he?" Weatherbold asked.

"Jacob," Mimi said. "He's my… friend."

"Well, then," Jacob continued. "What are you going to do? Your daughter is a goose, my apprentice is a guinea pig, our duke is a squirrel, and you, sir, appear to be an owl. Are you going to fix it or will I be leaving on my own?"

Weatherbold laughed. "I like him."

Wonderful, though Mimi. "I'm glad."

"She kept me in a cage," Weatherbold said as he turned his beak to the rows of jars. "I was going to meet you, and she then poisoned me. I'm so sorry."

"Father, I don't want to hear your apologies." She did, but she was so close to being a human permanently. A spell or two and she would be back. "Can you fix this?"

"Of course I can, Mimi. You know who I am."

"She had Jacob under a spell, too. He just had to eat the same herb of the spell. If we find those—"

Her father cut her off. "I don't dabble in herbs much. I never much understood it."

"But—"

"Mimi, I am the Great Weatherbold." He spread his wings an impressive span and flew to the door. "I can fix all of this. Oh, but it feels good to fly." He seemed almost suited as an owl.

"Father!" She took after him.

"My dungeons."

"But you can't lift anything!" She had seen his jars, his books. Hands would be required. Though the talons of an owl would be something with which to reckon.

But he flew on, wings grazing the sides of the halls in the delight of flying. He did not have to say a thing for Mimi to see the obvious. It made her happy. Her father was happy, everything would be fine.

Assuming a few spells could be worked.

Her father flew fast, and by the time Mimi arrived at the dungeon fires were roaring from torches and he was attempting to yank out a cauldron. Sadly it was far too heavy for him.

"Books," he muttered. "Mad woman left my shelf alone, thank goodness." He beat his wings in the air as he tore out books, which landed on the floor in heaps.

"You know what you're looking for?" Mimi asked.

"More or less. I can find it. She tricked me. That was all."

"You still have your magic?"

"From the sounds of it you still have yours, my girl. It was that cage, I suspect. I could do nothing in that cage."

"Mimi?" Jacob's voice called from the dungeon door. "Mimi? Are you down here?"

She laughed and wondered if she should give a goosey honk back. "Blake, Abe?"

Tiny feet scurried down the stairs, followed by Jacob's bigger and louder ones.

"I may require your friend Jacob's help."

"Father, I can't talk to him. He just hears… goose noise."

"Hmm… That's unfortunate. Oh, well. You'll still have to make him pull out the cauldron somehow."

Maybe Jacob would be inspired to cook something. That could work.

Jacob, Blake, and Abe appeared. "Wow," breathed Jacob.

"Someone make him grab that cauldron," Mimi said, flying over to it herself.

"What is going on?" asked Jacob.

Mimi nodded furiously at the cauldron, and Abe ran over. Good little cook apprentice Abe.

"What's it for?" Abe asked. At least he was helpful.

"My father. Fixing us. Unless you want to stay like that forever."

Finally enough animals hanging around a cauldron struck an idea with Jacob. "You want the pot?" he asked.

Cauldron, but whatever.

"That pot she has in that corner? Can't you just do your magic over there?"

"I want it over here, please," said Weatherbold sternly.

Jacob looked at them as if they were all mad. "Fine." He picked up the cauldron and carried it to the middle of the room. "I had better be helping something."

"Actually, I don't want the cauldron at all," Weatherbold said. He flipped pages with his beak, looking happier and happier the more he did so.

How much would it take to get Jacob to carry it back?

"I've found something else. We're set."

She was going to get out of this goose body. Permanently. She was going to be fine.

"No, I've none of this. This is next to impossible to get."

"Father!"

"Patience. You've been waiting all this time, you can wait more."

"What am I suppose to do with this pot?" Jacob asked dryly. "Is anyone hungry?"

"That boy needs to be patient," Weatherbold muttered. Then he gave a deep sigh and slammed the book close with his head. "Well, daughter, back upstairs."

"Why?" she asked.

"For herbs." He sounded bitter at the thought. "I found a little charm to locate your herbs. Boringly simple."

"So no crazy magic?" Abe asked.

"I'm afraid not." He stretched out his wings and took off once more.

Blake gave a sigh of irritation.

"Why did I carry this thing over?" Jacob demanded. "Did I read you all wrong?"

The herbs were all there. Lavender had been a very thorough fairy. Weatherbold studied the jars carefully before pointing out three in confidence. "Those. Those will do it."

"And it they don't?" asked Blake.

"Nothing will happen. I didn't put the original spell on them."

Mimi's jar contained seeds. Small and flat, similar to those of a sunflower. They seemed right.

It was decided she would go first, as the lady. It felt weird. Shouldn't it be Blake? He had waited years. Or her father? But she accepted, gratefully.

As the door closed for her, a dress was shoved through it.

Jacob.

She smiled.