The sensation of moving through the air on what essentially was a large Persian rug thrilled Nicole. It had been a long time, a long, long time since she allowed herself to have this much fun. Structure and discipline, discipline and structure were her preferred ways of controlling her life. Sensible to the hilt, reliable, a little boring if she cared to admit, surrounding herself with people who could have fun so that she didn't have to step forward and pick up the reins for her own enjoyment.
The three examples Jake mentioned when she quit were those where she had had to make a choice on how much fun she would allow herself to have. Standing on that stage in high school, looking out at judgmental faces waiting for her audition piece, the one she had practised night after night in front of the mirror, she froze, convincing herself she was unable to let go and enjoy the moment performing a comedy sketch she hoped would secure her the lead part.
Her friends consoled her, telling her she was just as good as the girl who got the part, the girl who was prepared to put herself out there, the girl who was prepared to make a fool of herself in front of those judgmental faces. It was a defining moment for Nicole, one where instead of opening up to the world she closed the doors, pushing deeper into her shell, deciding she would only do that which she felt confident enough to accomplish, even if it meant it lacked joy.
As the wind swept through her hair, as her hands gripped the edge of the carpet, she felt a tinge of regret at not having given herself permission to be as carefree and joyous and frivolous as she was being now. And, therein lay what appealed most to her in seeing Waverly dance, her movements light and flowing, carefree and joyous and sublime, as if she hadn't a worry in the world, as if the stage was her world, a world of wonder and delight and joy. That was it, joy, Waverly danced with such joy those watching couldn't help but be enchanted.
If truth be told, it was never an autograph Nicole was after. It was the chance to meet someone who encapsulated joy through exquisite movements of their body. Nicole simply wanted to stand in the presence of Waverly and absorb her essence, her joie de vivre, her love of life. She simply wanted to touch Waverly's hand to see if some of the magic would rub off on her, make her feel as joyful, lighten her heart. A foolish desire, one she knew deep down was not possible, yet it didn't stop her attempting to gain access to a dancer who in the time she watched her perform had shown her more about how to live life to its fullest than she had been able to do so in all her time on this spinning ball called home.
Hills and valleys, rivers and lakes passing beneath them, the companions took in the vastness of this world. "Look," Nicole said, as they flew over a large stretch of water. "You don't think that's the lake we're supposed to visit, do you?"
"Who knows," Jeremy replied. "This place is so much bigger than I realised. All this behind a mirror."
"It feels real," Nicole said. "I know all of it is magic, but it feels like this place exists all the time."
Jeremy nodded. "I think you're right. It's different, but similar. Who do you think the people in Riddle Me Do are?"
"Not sure. They seem like anyone else, well except for the medieval houses and old-fashioned clothes. This is better than I expected."
"I'm sorry if we upset you."
"It's okay. I guess I know I can be annoying and not on time. I just don't like getting to places early and having to be by myself."
"Me too. I think that's why Robin and I ended up together. He's the life and soul of every party. I swear he could entertain himself if he was put in a room on his own."
Nicole giggled at Jeremy's suggestive comment. "Yep, that's Robin for you. That outfit, it's so him."
"I bet he asks to keep it. I'm going to have to put up with those tinkling shoes forever."
"I kind of miss him, now that he's not part of this," Nicole said. "Yes, he can be infuriating, but he doesn't care what others think of him."
"I think he does, but he's learnt to put on an act of being the court jester so others like him."
Nicole nearly used her third wish in that moment, wanting to be like Robin, stopping herself just in time before uttering the words. The carpet slowed, dropping lower and lower until it finally came to a halt at the edge of a tall wall. The companions looked at each other knowing this was the start of their real quest to obtain a white rose from the giant's garden.
Rolling up the carpet, placing it by the gigantic garden gate, they crept inside the garden hiding behind an enormous bucket. A tiny voice came from the mirror in Nicole's pocket, pulling it out to hear better. "The giant takes no prisoners," Waverly informed. "And watch your step with his cat. She'll smell you before you can see her."
"Thanks," Nicole replied. "Any other advice?"
"The rose you seek blooms for one and only when it feels the sun."
"Great. So, we're not going to succeed. Why is everything against us?"
A tiny figure hopped out of the mirror onto Nicole's hand. A tiny Waverly, with hands on her hips, looking directly at Nicole. "You really do give up easily, don't you," she said, with a glint in her eye. "You simply need to think this through and remember that your heart is true."
"What does that even mean? My heart is true. Everyone keeps saying that, but it's meaningless."
"Is it?" Waverly asked. "Perhaps, in this moment. In time you will see that which will set you free."
"You. I'm here to rescue to you. Oh, and collect Robin on the way out. That's what will set us free."
"Perhaps. There are different freedoms to be had, and I for one am more than glad."
With that strange statement Waverly hopped back into the mirror, Nicole looking at Jeremy. "You have any idea what she meant by any of that?"
Jeremy scratched his head. "I think I get the rose riddle. Not so sure on the freedom one. I believe she was talking directly to you. You seem to have a connection with her."
Nicole returned the mirror to her pocket, peering round the edge of the bucket at the substantial garden before them. There was no sign of any rose bush, let alone flowers, the area barren save for a few patches where winter crops were being grown. Nicole lifted the lantern to see more clearly, spying a cat the size of an elephant curled up in the window of the giant's house. Glad the cat was inside, rather than prowling around, she continued to scan the garden disappointed not to see what they came for.
Waverly's words repeated in her head. "You really do give up easily, don't you? You really do give up easily, don't you?"
"I really don't," she muttered to herself, lowering the lantern. "I made a promise and a promise I shall keep."
"What's that?" Jeremy whispered.
"Oh nothing. Just giving myself a pep talk."
"No that," Jeremy said, pointing to a container by the door of the giant's cottage. "It looks like it could be a rose. I can't see from this distance. We need to get closer."
"Okay, but we'll be spotted with this lantern."
"Leave it here," Jeremy suggested. "We can collect it on our way out."
Nicole placed the lantern down, following Jeremy across the muddy trenches towards the oversized container sitting on the giant's porch. On reaching it they realised there was no way to get into the container, the sides too steep and too smooth to climb, Nicole plonking herself on the ground not wanting to admit defeat, sensing their efforts would be in vain. "A rose, one rose and we can't even get that."
Jeremy joined her on the ground. "Did you expect this to be easy?"
"No, but. We have three hours to do all this. We're in a garden where we could be eaten at any moment, we have a flower pot we can't scale, we have a flower that's not even flowering and a friend who's asleep back somewhere."
"Nicole, we have a lot of things at our disposal too. Plus, we have each other. Two heads. Two sensible heads and hopefully enough time if we stay positive. Remember what Jake said, we lose time if we're blue, we gain time if our hearts are true."
"Great, now you're rhyming."
"It's actually quite enjoyable," Jeremy replied. "What rhymes with enjoyable?"
"Orange," Nicole said, sarcastically. "Shae used to complain I could be moody."
"We are who we are. To be loved for who we are, be that moody, or sensible, or slightly dull. We can't all be Party Peters. Someone has to offer round the nuts and olives."
"I guess. But, just once I'd like to go crazy, do crazy stuff and not give a damn."
"Err, may I remind you, you're sitting beside a flower pot the size of which is bigger than either of us has seen in our lives. You are wearing the most ridiculous outfit I have ever seen on you. Although, that hat really suits you. We've just ridden on a flying carpet and are about to steal a rose to rescue a dancer who lives in a mirror."
"Okay, so when you put it like that."
The door of the cottage opened, the thunderous sound of feet on wood almost deafening them as they cowered by the container. A roar was heard as the giant belched followed by a fart and another belch, the smell of rotten cabbages hitting their noses. Nicole placed her hand over her nose and mouth to stop the stench entering and her retching, praying they would not be spotted. In their favour was the lack of light, the pair able to blend in with the night, that and being small enough to go undetected by the fearsome figure standing nearby.
The sound of the door closing brought some relief, Nicole removing her hand, the stench still hanging in the air. "That was close. So how do we do this?"
"Well," Jeremy said. "We have a carpet and a lantern and a mirror."
"Right. And..."
"Waverly said the rose we are seeking blooms for one and only when it feels the sun."
"Right. And..."
"What does the sun provide?"
"Sunburn. I'm a redhead. Factor 50."
"Apart from sunburn. What does the sun give us?"
"Light," Nicole replied. "Wait, are you saying this plant needs sunlight?"
"Light. It needs light, which we have. Now the blooms for one is the bit I'm not so sure about."
"The giant perhaps?" Nicole offered. "After all, it is his plant."
"Could be. But, I don't think that's it. If that were the case there would be a rose on this wilted stem. Except, there isn't. So he's not the one."
"Who else could it be? Not the cat. Tell me it's not that fat cat in the window. We're doomed if it is."
"Again, don't think this rose blooms for a cat. I think it's you."
"Yeah right. Like this giant guy has a rose that's been waiting for me to bloom. I don't think so."
"No, the more I think of it, the more it makes sense. Being a white rose is the key."
Deliberating on their theories, neither companion noticed the shadow cast by the cat.