The Faerie Prince

Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Raven!" I stand on tiptoe and wave as Raven turns around, her deep brown and magenta hair sliding over her shoulder. She peers through the throng of people filling the main lane of the Creepy Hollow Shoppers' Clearing. I shout her name again. When she spots me, she smiles and waves. I hurry past open stalls, shop fronts built into trees, and busy faeries getting their shopping done. "Hey, thanks for waiting."

"Sure." She greets me with a hug. "I don't often see you here. Shouldn't you be hitting a punching bag or practicing backflips or something?"

"I've handed in my final report. My training is officially finished."

"Congratulations!" Raven gives me another hug, then pulls me to the side of the path where we're out of the way. "You must be bored out of your mind now."

Ha, she knows me so well. "Yeah, kind of," I say with a grin. "Anyway, I came looking for you because I, um, need your help."

Raven hooks her thumb around the strap of the shrinking shopping bag on her shoulder. "Oh dear. Another fashion emergency?"

"Yes. I forgot that there's a ball after the graduation ceremony, and I don't exactly have anything to wear." I put my hands together and do my best imitation of Filigree's kitten eyes. "Will you please make a dress for me?"

"Vi, don't be silly." Raven laughs and my stomach sinks. "I started designing your grad dress months ago."

My stomach halts its descent. "You did? Oh. Wow, thanks."

"Of course. It's one of the most important occasions of your life. You have to look good." She hooks her arm through mine and leads me down the road. "It's going to be absolutely perfect for you, Vi."

Oh dear. That doesn't sound good. "Um, it's not purple, is it?"

She smiles. "I know how you feel about purple stuff, so no. It isn't purple."

"Okay, and nothing big and puffy, right? I don't want to be wading through five hundred layers of fabric."

"It won't be big."

"And no overly revealing slits. That cocktail dress I wore at the Harts' party was way too—"

"Vi." She stops and places her hands on my shoulders. "Trust me. I know you're mainly indifferent when it comes to fashion, but even you will love this dress when it's done."

The tree we're heading toward has an archway cut out of the bark and a sign above it that says Farrow's Fantabulous Fabrics. We walk beneath the archway and into a gigantic room filled with roll upon roll of every imaginable material. There's the regular stuff, like colors, patterns, and textures that do nothing but lie still. Then there's the cool stuff, like fabric made from dewdrops, or flames, or smoke, or serpent scales that change color. This must be Raven's idea of heaven.

"Oh, that is perfect for the client I met with yesterday!" She runs toward a sparkly fabric that twinkles with every color of the rainbow. I wouldn't be caught dead in it. "I'll take the entire roll," she tells the shop keeper.

"Raven?" She turns to look at me as though she's forgotten I'm there. "I need to do a bit of my own shopping, so if you don't need my help carrying anything ..."

"Oh, sure, you go do your thing." She pats her shrinking shopping bag. "My stuff will easily fit in here."

* * *

The next two weeks crawl by, but finally, after five years of training, studying, assignments, and generally working my butt off, the day has arrived.