Merlin grabbed Rachel's arm, breaking her out of her reverie. "Ball's over," he said with a good deal of regret. "Cinderella has left, and Prince Charming has gone looking for her."

Under normal circumstances, Rachel would have been ready to leave Cinderella's Story behind. But something tickled her senses, like something was off and she should know about it. It reminded her of the night when Carson had broken into The Story, and it wasn't a good memory. She couldn't tell if it was simply because of Guy or not, but she wasn't about to leave until she found out. "Merlin, something's off."

"I know," he agreed. "I feel it too. It could just be our intrepid musician, though," he added, rolling his eyes at Alan.

"What?" Alan protested. "You have to admit the music was much better after I took over!" He and Red had joined them without their noticing.

"No comment," Merlin retorted. "Rachel, are you sure we're just not overthinking it?"

"I don't think so," Rachel disagreed, shaking her head. "I think we'd better go off after Cinderella and make sure this Story finishes without anything going...wrong."

"Works for me," Merlin said with a shrug.

Red fingered the club at her hip—the only one among them that was armed with an actual weapon. Alan had a small knife concealed in his boot, but that was it. "You think something will go wrong?" she asked nervously.

"It's possible," Rachel answered.

"Possible?" Guinevere said. "It's more than possible with you people. Seems nothing ever goes right when you're around." Rachel scowled at her, mostly because the statement was so true. It seemed that wherever they went, disaster was certain to follow. However, she didn't appreciate the Queen pointing that out to her.

Before an argument could ensue, Alan quickly interrupted. "She's going to be long gone before we can leave," he said. "How do we know where we can find her?"

Merlin smirked grimly at Alan. "We were just at Cinderella's house," he told him. "So we, unlike Prince Charming, know where she is."

"That's always good," Alan agreed. "But what if something happens to her on the way there? What do we do then?"

Rachel glared at Alan. "Don't be such a pessimist," she scolded him. "We'll get to her in time. We've got to."

And with that, they swiftly departed through the castle gates and onto the streets beyond.

It was chaos as the five of them tried to force their way through the crowds. The knights were running around in a panic, and a tall young man—obviously Prince Charming—was yelling at them. Rachel and the others scooted around them in their own pursuit of Cinderella.

It took them a few minutes to escape the city and reach the dirt road towards the further-out homes. They were all silent with tension; if the Editor had sent someone after Cinderella, they would have to rely on Rachel and Merlin's magic and Red's club to protect her—and them.

There was still no sign of Prince Charming. Evidently it took him quite a while to gather enough men to search for the owner of the glass slipper. Whatever the reason, Rachel was grateful. That was one less person she would have to worry about protecting.

Unless, of course, the target was actually Prince Charming and Cinderella was only a distraction. Rachel forced her mind away from that pessimistic thought. It had to be Cinderella. Prince Charming's death wouldn't end The Story; just like when Briar Rose's prince died, her Story had continued on regardless.

The crowds heading home were left behind. Soon it was just the five of them on the road, their feet crunching against the hard dirt. Red held her wooden club in her hand, massaging it with her hand anxiously.

They all felt the air of tension around them. Something was definitely odd about Cinderella's Story. There was an oppressive silence, a quiet that no birds or other animals dared to break. After moving away from the chaotic hubbub of the crowd at the castle, the mute quiet around them seemed to pound in Rachel's brain.

At long last Rachel heard footsteps. She held up her hand, stopping the others so she could listen. Sure enough, she heard someone moving ahead of them. "I think Cinderella's up there," she murmured to them.

Nobody else answered; they let Rachel go first towards the footsteps. In only a moment she saw a blonde girl dressed in rags trudging along the road barefoot. In her hand she cradled a glass slipper. Rachel walked up beside her, and the girl, who looked to be in her mid-teens, looked up at Rachel in surprise. "Hello," she said in a heavy British accent. She rubbed at the soot in her dress. "Can I help you, milady?"

"Listen to me," Rachel said urgently. "Someone's coming after you tonight."

"I know," Cinderella replied, smiling dreamily. "The prince. I can hardly wait for him to come find me! But you really didn't have to come and tell me about that. I'm very aware of the situation."

"Not Prince Charming," Rachel retorted. "Somebody else is coming to get you. The Editor sent them. I'm sure of it."

Cinderella shrugged her skinny shoulders. "Why would the Editor want to harm me?" she asked. "I haven't done anything. We've kept The Story as true to the original as possible. I don't dread working for my stepmother and stepsisters when I know what awaits me at the ball!"

Rachel found herself becoming rather irritated with the flighty girl. "The Editor is going to destroy the whole Story and start it over from scratch," Rachel said, trying to hold her temper in check. "That includes yours. And if something happens to you, that will destroy this Story, and I happen to want to prevent that from happening—especially while I'm still in it!"

"Umm," Cinderella said slowly, "who are you, exactly?"

"I'm Rachel Andric. I'm a Guardian," she answered. "And it just so happens to be in my best interest to keep you and this Story alive, so will you please work with me here?"

"Rachel Andric!" Cinderella exclaimed. "Amazing! You're legendary!"

"Thanks," Rachel said with absolutely no conviction. "Now, listen. We've got to get out of here before anything goes..."

"Rachel!" Merlin ran up, the other three only a few steps behind him. "Problem! Something's coming! Something big!"

"Wrong," Rachel finished glumly.

Something was coming down the path behind them. Rachel turned to face it, pushing Cinderella behind her. A fireball lit up Merlin's hand, and Alan prepped his tiny knife. "I could really go for something bigger," he muttered.

Red held her club in both hands, and Guinevere removed her heavy dancing shoe. Cinderella asked nervously, "Don't you people have any better weapons?"

Guinevere glared at her balefully. "I wish," she sighed.

Rachel knelt down and touched the ground. She could feel the vibrations in it from the approaching army. "It's an army," she reported. "I think...I think this may be the end."

"Oh...that's a shame," Alan said. "I was just beginning to enjoy myself. Um, Lady Rachel? Can I ask you something?"

"May as well," Rachel answered with a shrug.

"Can I call you Rachel?" he asked.

"Of course," Rachel said, taken aback by the question.

He flashed her a quick grin, but that was all he had time for. Over the hill in the road came the Editor's army; filled with all manner of soldiers. Humans, skeletons, all manners of mythical creatures from all Stories. Guinevere hefted her shoe with a grimace. "Merlin?" she said. He glanced at her, hesitating. "I love you." And she kissed him.