“Thank you!” Poppy beamed, taking the bag and handing him a tall golden candle. Mr. Lott’s cakes were the nicest in the whole of Penlee. “I’d better go back home and get some more candles. See you soon!”

Mr. Lott smiled. “Bye, Poppy! Take care!”

Poppy skipped down the lane, her gray cloak streaming out behind her. Before she went home, she would stop at the park, she decided. There was a group of scarlet foxes living in a den between the roots of a tree. She’d made friends with them a few weeks ago, and she loved to watch them playing together. She was sure they’d like a little piece of her cake.

The scarlet foxes were magical creatures. They had wise green eyes and their copper-red fur was even brighter than Poppy’s hair. But the strangest thing was that each one had several tails. The younger ones had three while the biggest foxes had five. The old stories said that their magic came from their tails, but Poppy didn’t know if that was true.

In a shimmer of magic, the scarlet foxes could change color to match their surroundings. A sudden noise would make them hide in the bushes. Then their coats would transform to green and brown, leaving them almost invisible among the leaves and branches. Poppy was astonished every time she saw it.

She smiled. What would she do if she could change color? Would she camouflage herself and turn invisible like the magical foxes? Or would she turn a bright color like her candles? She was so busy thinking about it that she bumped into a girl coming the other way along the street.

“Oh, Poppy!” snapped Natasha, flicking back her dark hair. “Stop daydreaming! I’m sure my arm’s bruised where you hit me with that basket of candles.”

“Sorry, Natasha!” Poppy dodged round her and carried on down the street. Natasha was nine years old like Poppy, and she helped out in the shoemaker’s shop. Poppy sometimes wondered why she always seemed so cross.

People smiled and nodded to Poppy as she ran past. She had sold candles in the town ever since her aunt and uncle had agreed that she was strong enough to carry the basket. Poppy’s parents had died from a fever when she was a baby, and she had lived with her aunt and uncle ever since. Their little cottage stood on a hill near the edge of Penlee. From her bedroom window Poppy had a wonderful view of the river, which ran just outside the town.

Poppy’s aunt and uncle were the only candle-makers in Penlee. They had a workshop in the garden behind their house, where they shaped the candles from warm wax and hung them up to dry.

They sold lots of different kinds of candles. There were Red Flamers that burned with a long red flame, and Blue Whispers whose flame was a beautiful soft blue. There were Golden Sparkles that gave out a fountain of glittering sparks and were perfect for birthday cakes! Sometimes her aunt would make amazing molds and shape the wax into elephants or castles or unicorns.

Poppy loved watching the candles being made. There was a cabinet filled with little bottles of powder that her aunt would pour into the soft wax before stirring it. She wasn’t allowed to touch these special ingredients, but her aunt and uncle had promised her that one day they’d teach her what to do.

Weaving through the narrow streets, Poppy passed the shoemaker’s and the tea shop. She was just about to turn another corner when she noticed a group of people gathered round a sign that was nailed to the church gate. Some were shaking their heads as they read it. Poppy moved closer to take a look. She read:

Magical animals are dangerous. Do not go near them or assist them in any way. Anyone disobeying this order will be punished.

By order of Sir Fitzroy, on behalf of Queen Viola, the ruler of the Kingdom of Arramia.

Poppy read it three times to make sure she hadn’t made a mistake. Why did the sign say that magical animals were dangerous? The scarlet foxes would never hurt anyone! They were funny, clever creatures and they seemed very gentle.

There were all kinds of magical animals in the kingdom—including dragons, star wolves, and sky unicorns—but most were shy creatures and kept away from towns like Penlee. Poppy had never heard of a magical animal harming anybody.

“I’ve heard of that man, Sir Fitzroy,” said Mrs. Allen, the flower seller. “He’s a knight at the royal castle. People say that the queen believes everything he tells her.”

“This sign is such nonsense!” replied Mr. Denton, the shoemaker. “And anyway, we hardly ever see magical creatures in Penlee.”

Poppy hurried away, worry gnawing at her insides. Mr. Denton was right, but he didn’t know about the magical scarlet foxes. They’d made their den in a corner of the park where they were hidden by trees and thick bushes. She didn’t think anyone had noticed them except her.

Stopping at the park gate, Poppy looked round carefully before hurrying in. There was a huge willow tree in one corner, with long branches that hung right down to the ground. Poppy pushed apart the curtain of leaves and stepped inside. She felt safe here because the branches screened her from the rest of the park.

A whiskery nose poked out of a hole between the willow’s roots, and a pair of green eyes watched Poppy curiously.

“Hello!” said Poppy softly. “Aren’t you coming out to play?”

The fox’s ears pricked up but he didn’t come out of the hole.

Poppy set down her basket and took out the paper bag that held Mr. Lott’s cherry cake. The bag rustled as she opened it, and the fox crept out of his den. Sniffing at the bag, he barked softly.

A cluster of foxes poured from the hole. Poppy counted five of them, but only two looked fully grown. “You must be a family,” she murmured. “With two parents and three children.”

The smaller ones scampered around, chasing one another. Poppy carefully broke five small pieces off the cherry cake and laid them on the grass. “It’s a good thing Mr. Lott gave me such a large slice. There’s still a little piece left for me too!”

The foxes nibbled at their cake and Poppy sat down to eat hers. The creatures looked hopefully at her when they finished. The smallest fox, which had fluffy red fur and three curly tails, crept up and put a paw on Poppy’s knee.

“I’m sorry!” began Poppy. “I haven’t got any more, but—”

A loud rumbling drowned out the rest of her words as a cart came down the street behind the park. Instantly, the largest fox switched color to match the curtain of willow branches. The others all changed to match the grass. Poppy could barely make them out against the green background.

Only the littlest fox didn’t change. She closed her eyes and went very still as if she was concentrating. Then one ear turned yellow to match Poppy’s dress and one leg went green. The rest of her fur stayed as red as before.

The small creature opened her eyes and looked in surprise at her green leg.

Poppy giggled. “You’re still learning! I think that’s a very good try!”

The little fox gave a high bark as if she was pleased too. The bigger foxes gathered round and they all started to play again.

Poppy smiled at them all. She remembered the sign near the church: MAGICAL ANIMALS ARE DANGEROUS.

It was the silliest thing she’d ever heard!