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Tarragon isn't your typical fairy. He scoffs at gossamer wings and he never, ever sparkles. Plus, he's much more interested in common folk than in anyone wearing a crown. All he wants to do is enjoy good food and good parties, but he can't quite resist sparring with his cousin Marjoram, a typical Good Fairy if there ever was one. Against his better judgment, Tarry becomes the reluctant defender of the ordinary people Marj is trampling underfoot in her efforts to help the royalty.That includes people like Jack, a goatherd stuck on the opposite side of a mass of thorns from his true love Emmy, a maid in Sleeping Beauty's castle. Or Catherine, who has no desire to marry a very un-charming prince just because her shoe size matches some girl he danced with. Or Anthony, whose youngest sister Beauty got involved with a great and terrible Beast.Tarry has to set down his supper, brush up on his magic and his arguments, and try for once to wrangle some kind of Happily Ever After out of the mess.

Maybe you've heard a tale about twelve princesses who danced their shoes to pieces. That was only part of our story.Talya would tell you how dark and frightening the cursed forest and enchanted lake were. Vira would be too busy looking after all of us to tell you many details, and Mina would try to give you every fact and figure, even though magic is rarely so logical. Each of my eleven sisters would tell the story a bit differently.And Dastan--well, he'd write a ballad. Or maybe a love song.As for me, I'm the storyteller, so I'm giving you my version. It's about my sisters and me, our father, twelve princes and a cursed country--about a series of misguided champions, one even more misguided fairy godmother, and a great deal of dancing. It's about twelve trapped princesses who decided to take control of their story.I'm Lyra, the ninth princess, and this is how I tell the tale.

Forrest can't fathom this prickly, knife-wielding girl who so unceremoniously turns up in his family's barn one morning. His life has never been this exciting. Karina can't make herself trust the strangely hospitable villagers on this island she's now stuck on, and when they claim they can knit spells into their garments, that doesn't help. She knows magic exists, but that's just ridiculous.And no one can understand why the chickens have suddenly started laying gilded eggs, or why the horse is talking in rhyming couplets.When the inexplicable magic goes from mere bad poetry to actual threats, when dancing becomes dangerous and the wrong thought could cause disaster, the only answers are in the past Karina is fleeing-and the only way to survive is for the knife-wielder to trust the spellspinner.