When I snuck out of my room at dawn on Sunday morning, I had no idea my life was about to change. I hadn't one inkling that within a few weeks' time, I'd be carrying a magic wand and spying on goblins. All I knew, as I tiptoed into the hall, was to be careful not to step on the creakier floorboards. Of course, my pants snagged on the stairway railing and I almost plummeted headfirst down two flights of stairs.

"Is that you, Noelle?" asked a drowsy voice from the other room. "Where are you going at this hour?"

"Fishing with Geoff, Dad," I lied. "I'll be back for breakfast."

"Okay. Bring me flounder."

I heard him roll over like a beached whale, while my mother made a snuffling sound and began to snore. There they were, one of the most famous couples in the kingdom of Indigo, in the land of Finale: a pumpkin farmer with a royal clientele and the most celebrated shoemaker in five thousand leagues. I was the only person who ever saw the undignified side of Humphrey and Elizabeth Simpkins.

If anyone knew why I was creeping out of the house, they'd probably send me right to Mount Seasprite Hospital. Most people would kiss the troll beneath the town bridge before quitting a job like mine. Tending to pumpkins commissioned by kings and making shoes for the land's most fashionable ladies was a summer gig some could only dream of.

I, however, was sneaking out in search of another job.

The guilt hit me the moment I stepped off the porch.

"It's okay," I muttered. "I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just going to the library."

If I just happened to see the bulletin board, and just happened to spot a job opening . . . well, I couldn't help that, could I?

I imagined explaining that to Mom and saw her throwing a fit as clearly as I saw the path before me. But chickening out would mean yet another summer of toiling in the soil or hammering at another shoe I'd never see again. It gave me the feeling of being locked in a windowless room, the idea of being stuck on our farmland for life.

It was this feeling that kept me moving toward the main road.

My best friend, Geoff Oakdale, was waiting for me on his dad's cart, which had been hitched to a fat donkey and filled to the brim with vegetables. "Well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I tripped on the stairs and Dad woke up," I said grumpily, climbing up beside him.

He sighed. "Sixteen years of being friends and you still haven't learned anything from me. You don't go down the stairs when you're sneaking out, you climb out the window!"

"My bedroom's on the third floor!"

"What do you think they made drainpipes for?" He clucked to the donkey. "Fat Chester, quit stuffing your face! We've got a million deliveries today."

The animal began moving at a snail's pace just as the sun peeked over the hills, promising another stiflingly hot day. I thought of the miles of pumpkins I'd have to help Dad tend later that afternoon and sank down lower in my seat.

Geoff glanced at me. "Stop looking so cheerful."

"Sorry. I'm just nervous. What if I don't find anything?"

"Well, then, it'll be nothing but pumps and pumpkins for the rest of your life."

I crossed my arms. "Cute."

He punched me in the shoulder. "Would you quit worrying? If you don't find anything today, come back later. That's what I had to do before I got into knight school." He said it casually, but I knew he'd been dying to bring it up again.

"You are so lucky. Wish they accepted girls so I could fight dragons too."

Geoff's academy was in Citria, a mountainous kingdom in northern Finale. I tried not to picture him riding around the peaks, whacking things with a truly awesome sword, while I sat in Mom's shop whittling at high heels.

He grabbed a carrot and brandished it like a saber. "I'll kill one for you," he offered.

"Oh good, then it'll really feel like I'm there."

"I'm going to wear armor and gallop around with a shield and be devilishly handsome. Maybe even save a princess or two. Who knows? By year's end, you could be looking at a prince," he added, winking.

"No princess is going to marry anyone with an ego the size of yours. Or," I continued, grabbing the abused vegetable and returning it to its basket, "maybe one will. Maybe you'll cancel out each other's bigheadedness."

"That's cold, after I woke up early to take you to the library."

"You wouldn't have if your dad hadn't told you to make deliveries."

"This is true," he said brightly.

By the time Fat Chester dragged himself into the town square, the sun was blazing down on us. Shopkeepers opened their doors, busybodies flitted around doling out gossip, and children raced barefoot to see who could withstand the already steaming cobblestones the longest. Most of them lasted only seconds before having to dive into the fountain.

Geoff caught me watching their antics. "Library first, then fountain."

"Oh, ha, ha, as though I would. Mom would kill me." My mother had high standards about the way a lady should behave, especially if she carried the respectable name of Simpkins. I hopped off in front of the library. "Wish me luck."

"Tell me what you find, all right?" Geoff shook the reins and the cart clattered away.

I entered the building, inhaling the familiar scent of books. The place was empty except for two children who sat coloring a map of the seven kingdoms of Finale. I made my way to the bulletin board, which took up the entire rear wall. Colorful fliers announced all kinds of things for sale: garden gnomes, elfin trinkets, a tandem bicycle with only one seat. There were also all kinds of things missing: a llama, a carved walking stick, and a fancy spyglass.

The "Help Wanted" section looked encouragingly full, but as I scanned the ads, my heart began to sink. Most of the jobs required transportation, which I did not have, since Mom and Dad believed that walking everywhere would help me build character. Many of them were also things I didn't relish doing, like cleaning out goblin caves or apprenticing with a woodcutter.

I looked through the ads again, trying to stay positive. I'll just come back another day, I told myself with a sigh. As I turned to start my sad walk home, a girl emerged from between the shelves. She sidled over to the board in her itchy-looking suit and attached a flier with a flourish. The nametag she wore read 'Beryl, Library Assistant,' which gave me an idea.

"Is the library still hiring?" I asked.

"No, sorry. I got the last job." She gave me a smug smile and walked away.

"I got the last job," I mimicked, just as the flier she had attached caught my eye.

It was frilly, pink, and decorated with hearts. The photo depicted a beautiful princess looking admiringly at a woman with big hair, a poufy dress, and a beribboned magic wand.

In curling script, the advertisement demanded:

That was a lot of characteristics, but I supposed I had at least some of them. Hadn't I been helping Mom and Dad run two booming businesses for sixteen years? If that didn't make me, let's see, "Capable, Resourceful, and Efficient," then I didn't know what would.

Below the picture, the flier continued:

My jaw dropped. The Council for the Advancement of Fairy Educators was one of the most powerful and prestigious organizations out there! Every citizen knew that C.A.F.E. kept the world running by attending to the wishes of royalty. Why, if princes and princesses didn't fall in love, if fairy godmothers didn't keep bringing young royals together, they could never preside over the peace and welfare of all the kingdoms.

I yanked the paper from the wall and held it to my face. The flier finished with details on the application process:

I let out a silent squeal. Now this was exciting and new and different. Okay, so maybe I'd never had much patience for royalty up until now. Maybe I had always thought that they were all bratty and conceited. But to be fair, the only princess I'd ever come across was Octavia of Indigo. But maybe royals in other parts of Finale weren't mean and snobby like her. Maybe some of them would even be nice to work with.

I pictured Irisia, the city kingdom, where C.A.F.E headquarters was located. I could see myself strolling around in teal-and-white shoes with a matching suitcase, being interviewed for the Dwarf Chronicle, and maybe even becoming a household name. Not just Simpkins, the name everyone knew, the name my parents had made famous . . . but Noelle Simpkins, the girl who made people's dreams come true.

I stuffed the flier in my pocket and walked back out, so distracted that I ran into somebody headfirst.

"Watch where you're going!" the girl hissed. Her bottle-green eyes widened and took in every inch of my appearance, from my untidy hair to my wrinkled shirt. "Noelle Simpkins. What a surprise, meeting you here."

"Jessaline Snapp," I said. "The surprise is mutual. And the disgust, too."

"I see that graduating hasn't made you funnier. Or friendlier with a hairbrush." She ran a manicured hand through her own perfect strawberry-blond curls, her eyes flickering to the bulletin board. "Were you looking for a job?"

"No, I was looking for the three minutes of my life I've already wasted talking to you. Good day." I tried to push past her, but she blocked me.

"I saw Geoff Oakdale drive away just now," she said casually. "Did he give you a ride here?"

I resisted the urge to shoulder-check her into a shelf of encyclopedias. The last time I had done so, we had been five and fighting over a stuffed narwhal. I suspected my punishment would not be as lenient now as it had been eleven years ago.

"I don't see why you care, but yes," I said. "Can I go now?"

"I hope his taste in friends improves once he goes to Citria," she said. "There was hope once, but I'm sure you don't need me to remind you."

I glared at her, remembering all too well the year she had convinced everyone in school that I had lost our field trip money to go to Siren Lake to see the mermaids. I had lost my position as class treasurer and Geoff had been so mad, he hadn't talked to me for a month.

"I think he'll look awfully cute in a suit of armor," Jessaline said. "Maybe he'd like to see a friendly face in the mountains. That is, if I can find a job, but I'm sure one of Daddy's many connections will come in handy."

I quirked an eyebrow at this. "You're looking for a job."

Like my family, the Snapps were well-known throughout the seven kingdoms of Finale, though their wealth lay in selling prime real estate. Unlike my family, they had never encouraged their spoiled children to work.

Before Jessaline could respond, Beryl the library assistant reappeared with her hands on her hips. "Would you two keep it down? This isn't the town square!" she hissed.

Jessaline gave her a withering stare. "Who are you?"

"I'm staff, that's who, and I'm kicking you out." Beryl pursed her lips, her eyes bulging. The expression reminded me of someone, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Jessaline, with her special skill at cruelty, figured it out before I did. "Beryl," she said sweetly, "do you happen to know a Mr. Grumpcrank who lives under the bridge just outside of town?"

I knew in an instant that she was right. All the troll ever wanted was some peace and quiet, but kids kept playing pranks on him, so he was always in a foul mood. Whenever he came out to yell at mischief-makers, he wore the exact same expression as Beryl.

The poor girl blanched. "He's a distant relative."

"Well, the resemblance is uncanny," declared Jessaline.

"Beryl," I said briskly, to stop the harassment before it got any farther, "I'm on my way out, and Snapp-dragon here is going to the bulletin board. Sorry about being loud."

I left, congratulating myself on having seen the C.A.F.E. ad before Jessaline.

If indeed she had been searching for a job as she claimed.