I was up bright and early the next morning, ready to start my first day as an intern. I met up with Gwendolyn and Emily for breakfast, which consisted of the fluffiest pancakes and juiciest sausages I had ever eaten. The Snapp-dragon – who sat with girls from her residence hall – kept her distance, though I could see her looking over at our table from time to time.

Our first class, "Godmother Is Watching You: Inside the Government of C.A.F.E.," took place promptly at nine o'clock. The other thirteen trainees and I filed into the classroom and sat down under the watchful eye of Madam Fairweather.

"Good morning, ladies," she said. "Today I will discuss the hierarchy of our organization. It is important to understand how C.A.F.E. works if you want to become a part of it one day."

She pulled out her magic wand, which was topped with a silvery star like so many others. Instead of ribbons, however, hers had thin, shiny red tinsel wrapped around the base. She faced a large poster attached to the wall, depicting a flow chart, and used her magic wand as a pointer.

"All fourteen of you ladies are here." Madam Fairweather tapped the top of the poster, where the words INTERNSHIP PROGRAM had been written in flowing script. "If you pass the certifying exam at the end of four months, you will be asked to come onboard as a full-fledged employee. You will be presented with your own wand, to be personalized by yourself."

Sasha raised her hand. "What will the certifying exam be like?"

"That will depend on your specialty and your trainer. In the past, some interns have been asked to treat poisoned patients at Mount Seasprite Hospital. Others have hunted down witches with their trainers." Madam Fairweather paced across the front of the room. "The important thing is to take advantage of our hands-on internship. Learn as much as you can from your trainer, and you will do well."

I peeked around the room and saw that each of the other girls were listening with rapt attention, including the Snapp-dragon.

"So let's say you've passed your exam with flying colors. You are now a fairy godmother. Some women at C.A.F.E. remain at this stage forever. They are content to do an adequate job until they retire, normally around the age of 85." She looked around at each of us. "However, those who strive for excellence will want a chance to shine. They will achieve stunning successes in their field. Perhaps a romance specialist orchestrates a staggeringly good match between two kingdoms. Or a witch-fighter pulls a dozen clients out of sticky situations."

Gwendolyn raised her hand. "My trainer told me that a top fairy godmother has to tutor many successful interns."

"That's correct," Madam Fairweather said. "To be considered a success, one must not only help one's clients, but also one's colleagues. In fact, those who have had twelve relatively successful interns, seven very successful interns, or three extremely successful interns are considered for an open seat in the House of Godmothers." She gazed around the room. "Who can tell us something about this ruling body?"

I raised my hand. "It has 77 spots granted to the best and the brightest godmothers. If you're considered, you have to study and do well on your review in order to win a seat."

"Very good, Noelle. That's exactly right."

To my left, Jessaline scowled.

Madam Fairweather turned back to the board, tapping her wand on the label HOUSE OF GODMOTHERS. "If you earn a seat in the House, you will be able to make your voice heard. Like the world, C.A.F.E. policies are ever-changing. Fresh ideas are needed to help optimize our influence and client outcomes." She moved her wand down to the bottom of the flow chart. "Should you excel here, you will then be promoted to the Council, which has . . ."

"Only seven women," Jessaline called out, determined to answer a question. She blushed when the instructor turned to stare at her. "Sorry, I forgot to raise my hand. But there are seven in the Council, one of whom is the Head. Currently, that's Madam Wandwood."

"Right. Thank you. Who can tell me what the other six Council positions are?"

The curly-haired girl named Isobel answered the question. "The Godmother of History and Record-Keeping," she said, ticking them off on her fingers. "The Godmother of Public Relations and Media. The Godmother of Royalty Liaisons. The Godmother of Admissions and Recruitment." She paused, frowning.

"I'll give you a hint. I am another Council member."

"The Godmother of Education," Isobel said sheepishly.

"Very good," Madam Fairweather praised her. "And the seventh and final Council member, of course, is the Godmother of Defense. Madam Blythe Davis, grandmother of your trainer Sloane," she added, nodding at Jessaline, who raised her chin proudly. "These individuals are chosen based on House votes and stellar recommendations from colleagues and clients." She went off on a tangent about sportsmanship and healthy competition among fellow godmothers.

Jessaline leaned past Emily and hissed in my ear. "Just so you know, I'm planning on getting Sloane that seat in the House."

I glanced at her, surprised. Direct confrontation had never been her style. "Good for you. Good luck with that."

She smirked. "She only needs one more successful intern to earn that spot. How many does that spiky-haired weirdo of yours need?"

I opened my mouth to answer, then frowned. I couldn't remember having ever asked Maud that question. "She's well on her way," I said vaguely. "But you know, one thing she's already got is class. Something you and your trainer don't have."

"Is there a problem, girls?" Madam Fairweather paused in the middle of her lecture.

"No, ma'am. Jessaline here was just asking me a question about sportsmanship," I said.

I turned my eyes to the front for the rest of class, but I could feel the Snapp-dragon's gaze boring a hole in the side of my neck the entire time.

I met up with Maud, Alfonso, and Muffet for a quick lunch after attending a session entitled "Unraveling the Mystery of C.A.F.E. History," taught by Madam Giselle D'Aubergine, the Godmother of Admissions and Recruitment.

"I didn't know headquarters used to be in Citria two hundred years ago," I said, dunking my grilled cheese into a bowl of tomato soup. "They moved it to Irisia after the Great War of 305, when the witches and goblins banded together to attack King Francis."

"They say some witches and goblins are still in league today," Maud remarked. "They've always gravitated toward one another, just as witches and fairy godmothers have always hated each other. Don't even say the word around a certain Madam Lin Chu."

"Why didn't you do witch-fighting like your grandma, Maud? Did she want you to?"

My trainer shrugged. "I'd much rather help people find each other than sneak around in the woods, hunting out covens. I'll leave that to Grandma Lin, tough broad that she is."

"Madam Chu was a little disappointed when Maud specialized in romance," Muffet commented. "I think she was hoping to have a granddaughter to take up the sword and shield."

"Do you know Maud's grandmother?" I asked him.

"Everyone knows Maud's grandmother," the cat replied. "She's been a senior House member since before I came to C.A.F.E., and that was a long time ago. But I won't say how long," he added demurely, folding one paw over the other.

"How come she never got promoted to the Council?"

Maud's lips tightened. "In a just world, she would have been named Godmother of Defense. But as it is, there are fierce political forces at work, and the position went to somebody with better connections."

"Blythe Davis," I said grimly. "Sloane's grandmother. I didn't realize your rivalry went back a couple generations."

"More than that," my trainer said. "There's a nickname for my family. They call us the 'overachieving underdogs.'" She gave me a sad half-smile. "We work hard, but always seem to miss out on the big prize. Especially when competing against the Davises."

"Well, we'll just have to change that this year." The mention of better-connected people reminded me of what I'd been wanting to ask her. "Maud, why does every intern here come from a well-known family? Did I get accepted because my mom makes a mean pair of shoes? Or because my dad knows how to grow house-sized pumpkins?"

Maud looked a bit sheepish. "I'd be lying if I said it was purely by chance that everyone's famous. Don't get me wrong. Everyone we accept is very talented. But you see, C.A.F.E. has been . . ." She looked around us to make sure no one was listening, even though we were sitting at an umbrella table tucked high in the wandwood tree. " . . . suffering for funds."

My eyes widened. "It sure doesn't seem like it."

"Oh, I know we put on a good show. The compound's probably as beautiful as Irisia Palace itself," Maud said. "But you see, many kings and queens are choosing not to hire fairy godmothers for their children. They don't appreciate the benefits of having a godmother. This is why godmothers from well-known families can help boost our reputation and attract royal parents."

I thought back to what Madam D'Aubergine had told us in class. Every royal person was automatically assigned to a fairy godmother at birth, a contract for life if they or their parents did not opt out before they turned seventeen. Usually, the only people who opted out were short on cash, since C.A.F.E. fees were not cheap.

"Without a fairy godmother, there's no guarantee that a royal child will have a happily-ever-after, the way there would be if they had one," Muffet chimed in. "But kings and queens do like to live in pomp and splendor, and funds get low. Happens to the best of us." He shrugged.

"Madam D'Aubergine said that a royal without a godmother can still get one if they make a wish before age seventeen," I said.

Maud nodded. "True. If an opt-out changes their mind, they can make a wish. C.A.F.E. monitors these things and sends someone out to determine whether the wish is valid and the wisher really needs a godmother."

"So, let's say a prince wishes for a ham sandwich. That's not valid?"

Alfonso, who had been eating popcorn, choked on a kernel.

Maud giggled. "Nope. But something like, 'I wish I could go to the ball' or 'I wish I could rescue my kidnapped brother' might just be. And those are two actual wishes I just cited, and both wishers are now clients of C.A.F.E." She patted my hand. "Don't worry. You're here on merit, not just because of your name. I know what it's like to want to earn your own success."

"Thanks, Maud." I gave her a grateful smile. "Anyway, I'd better go. I need to mail my letter to Geoff before I go to class."

Muffet looked wistful. "I wish I had someone to write to me."

"You don't have any family nearby?" I asked him.

The cat shook his head. "I'm an orphan."

"Valentine rescued him years ago when he was a . . ." Maud began.

Muffet cleared his throat loudly.

"She found him when he was . . ." my trainer tried again.

The cat gave her a Look. "I'm sure Noelle won't be interested in my very boring past."

"Rescued when he was a what?" I asked, my interest piqued.

"It's not important!" Muffet huffed. "Anyway, shouldn't you be getting ready your next class, Noelle?" He looked so flustered and upset that I decided not to push the subject.

"You're right. See you later, everyone," I said, but as I descended to the main floor of the cafeteria, I caught sight of Maud and Muffet deep in conversation. I couldn't help wondering whether they were discussing what he had been so reluctant to tell me.

The final lesson of the day was on surviving with our magic wands, taught by Madam Penelope Pennywell, the Godmother of Public Relations. The class split up to try to create water and fire in small iron chalices placed around the room.

"Even if your specialty isn't witch-fighting, that doesn't mean that you will never run into a witch, or an ogre, or a banshee," Madam Pennywell advised. "Just think how useful it will be to light the banshee on fire while you make a break for it."

Emily, Gwendolyn, and I worked close together, knowing that we would most likely be separated for the rest of the internship. Tomorrow was the last day of Trainee Week and the following morning, Gwendolyn would head east of Finale to the kingdom of Knorr, while Emily went west to ogre country.

"I guess it's goblin country for me. Maud and I are going to Viridian," I said, just as I noticed Jessaline lurking nearby. She glared at me and turned away.

I rolled my eyes, happy that training would be over soon and I wouldn't have to deal with her breathing down my neck every five seconds.

The conversation turned to the race for the open House seat. Rumors had been swirling that two fairy godmothers were neck-and-neck for the position, and that they were none other than Maud N. Lee and Sloane Davis.

"I think Maud's got a pretty good chance," Emily remarked. "Doesn't she come from, like, fifteen generations of godmothers?"

"So does Sloane, pretty much," Gwendolyn pointed out. "And my trainer told me they have equal everything: success rate, clients, top scores on the Bar. But I'm sure the Council will make the right choice," she added, smiling at me.

I smiled back, but couldn't help feeling nervous for Maud. Madam Blythe Davis, the Godmother of Defense, would be faced with choosing between her granddaughter and a member of a rival godmother dynasty. It wasn't hard to guess where her vote would be cast, but I reminded myself that there were six other women on that Council.

Even so, when I went to bed, I had a series of crazy dreams in which Maud and Sloane battled each other on the roof of Irisia Palace. I stood by helplessly with my magic wand, trying to set Sloane on fire but only succeeding in breaking one of the stained glass windows. And definitely not for the first time since leaving home, I saw myself making shoes out of the broken glass, beautiful things that shimmered as I tossed them to my trainer.

I never saw whether she caught them – or whether it helped her defeat Sloane – because I always woke up, the images buzzing around my ears until they melted like ice in my feverish memory.