Mom and Dad had been keeping me so busy that I hadn't had any time to check out the packet from C.A.F.E. Since I had a five-hour ride ahead of me, I decided to learn as much as I could.

There was a slim pamphlet describing CA.F.E.'s humble beginnings as the pet project of a group of meddlesome women with a talent for dabbling in the lives of others. Today, the organization numbered more than 10,000 professional fairy godmothers operating in branches across the globe, with central headquarters residing in Irisia, Finale's capital kingdom.

There was another pamphlet with pictures and brief descriptions of the seven women in the Council, the ruling body of C.A.F.E. I examined the sketch of Madam Anastasia Wandwood, Head of the Council, who looked like a barrel of laughs with her severe gray bob, pencil-thin spectacles, and stern stare. Her magic wand probably didn't have a star on top.

There was also a list of the 77 members of the House of Godmothers. "The best and brightest godmothers are awarded seats in the House based on talent and merit," I read.

I found a schedule for Trainee Week, which would begin tomorrow morning. Each day, I would attend five sessions with names like "The Politics of C.A.F.E.: How Fairy Godmothers Shape the World" and "Reverse the Curse: When Pesky Witches Cramp Your Style."

Finally, I pulled out a map that depicted the sprawling compound of C.A.F.E. headquarters, where two buildings in a grove of trees had been labeled TRAINEE RESIDENCE HALLS. I examined them with queasy excitement, hoping that I would like the other trainees and they would like me. I leaned back and stared out the window, wondering what their backgrounds were and whether there would be other farmers' daughters like me.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up feeling disoriented with fragments of a dream swimming before my eyes – something about accidentally breaking Madam Wandwood's glasses and trying to make up for it by transforming them into shoes for her.

A station attendant hovered over me. "Time to wake up, young lady." He jerked a thumb at the door. "Baggage claim to your left."

Startled, I realized the carriage was almost empty. I grabbed my C.A.F.E. packet and followed the last of my fellow passengers onto the platform.

'Baggage claim' turned out to be the driver standing on top of the carriage and shoving our bags to the ground. I grabbed my suitcases, trying not to gawk like the country bumpkin I was, but this station had to be the most magnificent thing I had ever seen.

The spotless wooden platform was ten times larger and fancier than the one back home. Hundreds of carriages were pulling in and out at any given moment and all around me, people hurried to and fro, looking busy and impatient. And the fashion – oh, the fashion – it was unlike anything I could have imagined. Clothes in every imaginable color and style, with expensive shoes to match. I recognized more than a few of Mom's designs, including the alphabet heels.

But nothing could have prepared me for my first astonishing look at the kingdom of Irisia itself, once I had passed through a stone archway.

Polished cobblestone streets stretched in every direction, lined by graceful black lampposts and buildings with slanted red roofs. Every edifice from the shops to the houses had been painted a creamy yellow color that probably looked sunny even on the gloomiest days.

Through the village, I glimpsed a palace on the horizon that made Indigo Castle look like a farmhouse. It had gray stone towers that spiraled into the clouds and a sparkling blue moat wrapped around it like an aquamarine serpent.

"That's the right direction," I murmured, knowing C.A.F.E. headquarters lay just east of the castle.

I hung on tight to my bags and picked my way along the street with care, since carriages and horses were tearing pell-mell through the crowds, the drivers screaming at each other and at the pedestrians to get out of the way. It was all uncommonly rude and I looked at some of the pedestrians to see how they were handling it, but they simply made a few uncouth hand gestures and continued on their way.

By the time I reached the gates of C.A.F.E., I was covered in sweat from trying to dodge the crowds and the joy-riding carriages. As a result, my first glimpse of headquarters was an even more welcoming one: gold gates surrounding an enormous complex with a huge dome in the center and window-filled buildings sprinkled across a park of trees, flowers, and fountains.

A woman sitting inside a booth near the entrance looked up. "Welcome to C.A.F.E. Name and business?"

"Noelle Simpkins. I'm here for the internship."

"Very good." She handed me a length of ribbon on which dangled an ivory charm in the shape of a star. "This badge will get you into your residence hall and will also serve as your charge card for the cafeteria. You'll have to use your own money for the gift shop, though." She pointed at the giant dome. "That's the main building. Please go there first and sign in with the receptionist."

"Thanks," I said, putting the ribbon around my neck. As I continued down the path, I noticed that the dome appeared to have an oversized tree growing out of the center of it. The branches cast an appealing spring-green shade over the whole structure.

I walked through a set of double doors into a lobby bathed in golden light from elegant peach sconces. The rich amethyst carpet was covered in a pattern of crowns and magic wands. The woman sitting at the reception desk glanced up and I recognized Valentine Jenkins.

"Noelle, you made it!" she said, beaming.

"Hi, Valentine," I said. "Good to see you."

"How was your journey? You must be tired," she said sympathetically. "I'll find your room assignment right away and you can freshen up before your exam."

I gaped at her. "Exam?"

"Oh, nothing to worry about. Just a few little tests to determine who your trainer will be." Valentine rifled through a stack of papers. "Here we are. Building Two, Room Twelve. I see you've got your badge already, so you're all set! Feeling nervous? Excited? Ready to make new friends?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, my mind still racing about the exam.

"Well, here's a friend you already know!" She picked up a ginger cat that had been sleeping next to the mug filled with pens. "Muffet, say hello to Noelle!"

"Hi, Muffet," I said. "Is he feeling any better?"

The cat blinked at me. "Not particularly," he said.

I stared at him.

Valentine laughed. "Oh, what a grump you are. You know you're sleeping ever so much better."

"It's true, but I h-h-h-ave no energy," he said, in the midst of a loud yawn.

"Muffet doesn't usually speak to strangers," Valentine explained, seeing the astonishment on my face. "But now that you two are acquainted, I'm sure he'll be ever so talkative."

The cat looked up at me with listless green eyes. I decided that he did look rather ill. "Pleased to see you again," he said politely.

"Thanks. Same to you," I returned. I had heard of talking household pets, but had never come across them in Indigo. Back home, such animals were typically associated with witches.

"Can I come show you around?" Muffet begged. "I'm sick of hearing tourists come in and ask for Madam Wandwood's autograph."

"Sure. It would be nice to have a tour guide," I said, glad to have a friendly face with me, even if it belonged to a cat.

Muffet jumped down from the desk. "I'll take you through the main building and show you to the residence halls."

"Have fun, you two," Valentine said. "Noelle, leave your bags here and I'll have them taken to your room. Come back to the lobby in an hour, okay?"

I waved at her just as a group of tourists entered the building, gazing around in awe.

The cat led me down a hallway flanked by golden doors, each with a name printed on it in pale silver. "Some members of the House of Fairy Godmothers have offices here," he explained. "More senior members generally prefer the park-view offices outside."

"I can see why," I said, thinking of the pretty buildings I'd seen nestled among the trees.

The hallway opened into a large room with a glass ceiling, allowing sunlight to filter in freely. Real trees and flowers filled the air with a summery fragrance. Shelves stacked high with books shaded little tables where dozens of women were diligently reading or taking notes.

"This is the reading salon. A lot of research goes on in here," the cat said, yawning again. "But I think it would be a nice place to sleep."

It looked more like an indoor park than a library, what with the birds and squirrels that seemed to consider the room their home. None of the fairy godmothers seemed distracted in the least, though - all of them were engrossed in their work.

"So anyway, what's this about an exam, Muffet?" I asked, as we strolled down a corridor made of windows overlooking two spectacular fountains. "I wasn't asked to study anything."

"You're not supposed to study for it," he told me. "It tests your strengths and interests to see what specialty might suit you best."

"Oh, I see. Like matchmaking or whipping up antidotes?"

The cat nodded. "Based on that, they'll decide which trainer to pair you up with. An intern whose potential strengths lie in witch-fighting, for example, would go to a trainer who specializes in it."

"Makes sense," I replied, feeling as though I ought to be comforted by this information but still nervous all the same. What kind of test would determine that an intern was best suited for witch-fighting? Would they lock us in a room with a broom-wielding crone and pick the trainees who didn't duck and scream?

Muffet pointed out the cafeteria, which lay in the very center of the dome and took up roughly as much room as I imagined a castle would. Like the ceiling in the reading room, this one was made entirely of glass, but it had a large hole in the middle through which grew the impressive tree I had seen outside.

"That's the wandwood tree, from which all of our magic wands are made," the cat said. Enormous thick branches grew all along its trunk, forming sturdy platforms on which umbrella tables and chairs had been placed, where people sat eating, chatting, and reading. I glimpsed some sitting on branches so high that they looked like little specks beneath the glass skylight.

"Who would want to sit all the way up there?" I asked.

"Oh, people who don't want to be disturbed," Muffet said, eyeing the assortment of vendors and carts selling food at the foot of the tree. There were sandwich stands, ice cream carts, trolleys popping fresh popcorn, a fried chicken kiosk, and what looked to be a mini-bakery that sold beautiful seven-layer cakes. "This is where you and your trainer will get dinner tonight after the exam. I hope Valentine lets me come and meet all the interns," he added wistfully.

"Why don't you join us?" I suggested. "I'm sure whoever my trainer is won't mind."

He purred and flicked a ginger ear. "Thank you, Noelle, that's very kind of you."

After wandering down some more hallways, peeking in at a stately meeting room, and taking a look at the items on sale in the gift shop, we left the main building and walked through the park to the residence halls.

A small pond filled with water lilies separated the buildings, each about four stories high.

"Headquarters is incredible," I remarked. "Do fairy godmothers even spend that much time here?" Aside from the people we had come across in the halls, cafeteria, and reading room, the compound seemed quiet and almost deserted.

"That's a good question. They really don't," Muffet said, pausing to clean his whiskers. "Everyone's always on client business or riding out to meetings in different lands. But it's a nice place to come back to, I'm sure." He pointed his paw at the building nearest us. "That's yours. I'm off to Valentine's desk for a cat nap. Come get me before dinner, will you?"

I promised him I would and turned to go into the building. The door appeared to be locked and my attempts to open it were greeted with a buzzing sound. I frowned, then remembered the star badge around my neck and waved it around. There was a clicking sound and the door opened.

The residence hall was every bit as lovely as the rest of headquarters. It looked like a cozy inn, with low ceilings, warm violet carpets, and butter-hued walls. The first floor held rooms one through ten and appeared to be completely empty. I climbed a small flight of stairs to the second floor, where I found Room Twelve on my left. Waving the star badge again, I entered and looked around in admiration. It was like something out of the catalogs that Mom loved, with crisp linens, rosewood furniture, and a tiny fireplace.

My bags had been placed at the foot of a four-poster bed with pale blue draperies. I had just set Dad's pumpkins on my windowsill and Mom's shoemaking kit on the writing-desk when there was a knock on my open door.

"Oh, good, someone else is here!" said the freckled, brown-haired girl who bounced in, uninvited. "I was beginning to think it was just me and Emily."

"I was beginning to think it was just me. I'm Noelle Simpkins."

"I'm Gwendolyn Peters," she said. "And this is Emily Locke."

I shook hands with her friend, a tall, gangly blond girl with a strong build. "How long have you two been here?"

"We came in on the same carriage about two hours ago," Emily said, peering out my window. "Ooh, you have a good view. This place is amazing, isn't it?"

"It has to be," Gwendolyn replied. "All of their clients are royal, with access to royal treasuries. I'm actually surprised the sidewalks aren't paved with rubies."

I laughed. "So where are you guys from?"

We swapped histories and I discovered that both girls were also from Finale and also came from well-known families. Emily's dad was Gregory Locke, the great carriage-maker from Vermilion, and Gwendolyn's mother was a senior politician in Marina.

"And everyone knows your parents, of course," Emily pointed out, darting a glance at my shoes. "What did C.A.F.E. do, pick out the most famous applicants in the pool?"

"Looks that way," I agreed, thinking of the Snapp-dragon's real estate mogul parents. It bugged me, the niggling suspicion that my last name had, once again, preceded me.

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it?" Gwendolyn said, shrugging. "They want fairy godmothers with connections. It must help with networking."

We ran into two more trainees on our way to the exam. Our theory was almost certainly true, because Sasha Goraya came from a family of famous dancers overseas, while Lea Agunwe – who came from a land to the far south – had an older sister who had married their king.

"So doesn't that make you royal? Shouldn't you have a fairy godmother yourself?" Emily asked her jokingly.

"I wish. Only people born royal get fairy godmothers."

I grinned, thinking of Princess Octavia of Indigo, whose mother had been only a noblewoman before she married the king. My worry about getting Octavia as a client faded.

Unfortunately for me, my good mood was only fleeting. When we all went back to the lobby, the first person I saw was the last person I wanted to see.

"Well, well, well," said Jessaline Snapp. "Look what the cat dragged in."