The Old Witches’ Retirement Community was located farther north in the enchanted forest. Home to many of the older witches who lived in Greater Greensward, it was a comfortable place and always well-maintained through spells and other witchy contributions. Because my grandmother Olivene had long made it her home, I had visited it often.
Unlike the swamp, the Old Witches’ Retirement Community had changed a lot since my childhood days. Many of the witches had moved on, either because they’d died or because they’d found someplace else they’d rather live. Nearly a dozen witches had chosen to stay on the island that Olefat the wizard had tricked them into visiting. An overweight witch had used a spell to make herself lighter and had floated off into the clouds. It was rumored that she was currently living on the moon. Two witches had turned themselves into foxes, then forgotten how to turn themselves back. They lived deeper in the forest now, visiting the Community only on special occasions.
With so many witches gone, their unoccupied cottages had either walked away on chicken legs, been eaten by passing children, or crumbled into dust when their spells weren’t renewed. Once the vacancies were announced, other witches had moved in, selecting more modern cottages that were larger and more spacious inside. Even the older cottages that remained didn’t look quite the same. My grandmother had replaced many of her chewed gingerbread walls with a new recipe that tasted sweeter and was a darker shade of brown. The spun sugar she used to decorate the eaves looked more delicate, and the gumdrops more sugary.
“I like what your grandmother has done with the place!” Eadric said as we landed in her front yard. Since our last visit, she had installed a gate made of fruit-flavored lozenges and replaced the window shutters with sugar wafers.
“You’ll have to tell Grandmother that,” I said as I got off the carpet.
“I will, as soon as I’ve tasted everything!” he said, licking his lips.
“Someone actually lives here?” Adara said as she got off the carpet. “You’d have to be crazy to live in a house like this!”
“That was rude!” said a big orange-striped cat as he strolled out of the flower bed. “Too bad she’s not a bird or a mouse. I’d teach her a thing or two. Maybe I will anyway.” Lifting a paw, he unsheathed his claws and glanced at Adara.
“Leave her alone, Herald,” I told the cat. “She’s with us.”
“All the more reason to introduce her to these,” he said, and licked his claws.
“Who are you talking to?” Adara asked me as she looked around. “There’s no one here except us and that scruffy-looking cat.”
“Why, I oughta—” Herald began.
“Do nothing,” I told him. “She can’t understand you, so she thinks you don’t have feelings.” The only humans who could understand animals were the ones who’d once been turned into animals themselves. Even Eadric, who had once been a frog, could talk to the animals he met.
The door opened and my grandmother stepped out. “I thought I heard your voice, Emma! I’m so glad you and Eadric stopped by. Oh, you brought her with you,” she said, frowning at Adara. “I thought she’d have gone home by now.”
“We’re looking for the fairy named Poppy,” I told my grandmother. “I was told she was holding a rally here, but I didn’t see her when we flew over the Community.”
“She is, or at least she will be. It should be starting in an hour or so. Just a moment and I’ll see what time it is now.” Grandmother stepped out of her cottage, closing her door behind her. It was only a few steps to a new sundial with a chocolate-chip-cookie face.
“What happened to your old sundial?” Eadric asked.
“Someone ate it while I was away. I like this one better anyway. The big chocolate chip tells the time much more precisely. Look, it’s just as I said. We have a whole hour before the rally starts. Why don’t we have a picnic lunch while we’re waiting?”
“Sounds good to me!” said Eadric.
While Grandmother brought out the food, Eadric and I spread a blanket on the ground. “What’s that for?” asked Adara.
“We’re going to sit on it to eat our lunch,” said Eadric. “Haven’t you ever had a picnic lunch before?”
“I’ve never sat on the ground before,” Adara declared, casting a scornful look at the blanket.
“That’s because Princess Adara is from Lower Mucksworthy,” Grandmother said as she came out the door carrying a tray. “The ground there is never dry enough to sit on. Most of her kingdom is covered in mud.”
Eadric hurried to take the tray from my grandmother. “Then you should really enjoy this!” he told Adara.
Adara gave him a brilliant smile. “I’m sure I will!” she told him, but I noticed that she made a disgusted face when she glanced at the blanket again.
“Why don’t you sit over there,” Grandmother said to Adara, pointing to a spot on the blanket.
When Adara saw that she would be sitting next to Eadric, she gathered her skirts under her and sat where my grandmother had suggested. I glanced at Grandmother, wondering if she was up to something. Although the curse had made her a horrible person, she had become kind and sweet once the curse was over. Unfortunately, the way she had been acting toward Adara reminded me more of her old, awful self.
Eadric helped himself to dried fish, bread, cheese, and nearly half the fruit tarts, while grandmother handed around mugs of juice. When the rest of us helped ourselves, I noticed that Adara took very little and only picked at her food. I was about to suggest that she try one of the tarts before Eadric ate them all when I noticed that Herald was flattened to the ground, tail twitching, a few yards behind her.
Adara took a sip of her juice and made a face. She was setting her mug back on the blanket when she suddenly yelped and started slapping at her legs.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Grandmother asked, sounding a little too innocent.
“There are ants all over my legs!” Adara cried. “They’re biting me!”
Herald wiggled his back end and launched himself at Adara. When he landed on her with his claws out, the princess shrieked, jumped to her feet, and knocked over her mug of juice.
Herald ran off with his tail straight up, looking pleased with himself.
“Really, Herald! I don’t know what’s gotten into you!” Grandmother cried.
“Are you all right?” I asked Adara.
“Just fine!” she replied through gritted teeth.
“Would you like more juice?” I asked her, holding up the pitcher.
“No thanks!” she said. “The first mug was too sour.”
I glanced at Grandmother, who just smiled and shrugged. I decided that it was time to leave.
When I turned to look toward the center of the Community, a cloud of twinkling lights was already descending on the area around the big fire pit. “Look!” I said. “The fairies who want to hear Poppy are starting to arrive.”
The cottages were built around a large, open area where the witches held ceremonies, rituals, and weekly potluck suppers. Tables and benches surrounded the fire pit that sat at the very center. Even now, in the middle of the day, the fire in the pit was burning.
“Do you want to head over there now?” I asked my friends. “We should be able to get good seats if we hurry.”
“We might as well,” Adara said, brushing the last of the ants off her gown.
“Do you know Poppy?” I asked Grandmother as we started toward the pit.
“We all do,” she replied. “She’s very popular in the Community. Her flowers brighten nearly everyone’s gardens. She’s here all the time anyway, so it made sense that she’d hold her rally in the commons. Ah, there she is now.”
Where Sumac’s hair was a dark, muted shade of red, Poppy’s was a brilliant orange-red that would be prominent in any crowd. She was standing by the fire pit, waving to the new arrivals as each one grew from a tiny fairy into human-sized. When everyone was there, she climbed onto a table and turned to face her audience.
“I’ve come to talk to you today about the path I think fairy-kind should take in the future. After years of observing humans closely, I believe that it’s time for us to be more than observers. It’s time for fairies to step in and help our friends the humans.”
“Why do you think we should do that?” called a fairy.
“Because she’s a tender-hearted nitwit!” cried one of the witches who had gathered to watch.
“Because we have magic and most of them don’t!” shouted Poppy. “Aside from our witch and wizard friends, humans don’t have magic to tie their own shoes without bending over, let alone solve important problems like chasing away harpies. You have to feel sorry for them, toiling away their whole lives just to keep their children safe and put food on their tables!”
“And putting up with goody-goodies like you telling them how lousy they have it!” shouted another witch.
“What do you have in mind?” called my grandmother.
“We’ll help humans when they need it,” said Poppy.
“And what do we get out of it?” called a fairy with purple hair in the front row.
“I suppose they’ll have to give us something in return,” said Poppy. “Like bowls of fresh cream to drink and warm places to stay in the winter.”
“You make us sound like cats!” yelled another fairy. “I’m not helping anyone for cream or a dusty corner.”
“What kind of help would you give the humans?” shouted the witch next to her. “Can you chase away harpies?”
“If I had Willow’s wand, I could,” said Poppy.
“Can you make the sun shine on a cloudy day like Queen Willow could?” called another witch.
“Maybe, if I had her wand,” Poppy told her.
A fairy in the middle of the group raised her hand. “How are you going to talk all the fairies into helping all the humans?”
Poppy shrugged. “I haven’t worked that part out yet.”
“This plan is more half-baked than my last birthday cake!” cried a white-haired witch.
Whispering among themselves, the fairies began to leave. The witches were even less polite.
“Well, that was a waste of time!” one witch declared in a loud voice.
“I wasn’t expecting to hear such a ridiculous scheme!” announced another as she stomped off. “My pet weasel could have come up with something better than that!”
“I thought the witches liked Poppy,” Adara said to my grandmother.
“They do,” she replied. “You should hear what they say when they don’t like someone. It’s enough to curl your ear hairs!”
Wanting to talk to Poppy before she flew off, I hurried to the table where the fairy still stood, looking dejected.
“Now what?” she asked as I drew closer. “Did you come to point out more flaws in my plan?”
I shook my head. “Actually, I came to see you about something else entirely. Do you know anything about the plants that were damaged to create the candidates’ symbols? Whoever did it used a blight to draw your symbol in Farmer Johnson’s wheat. The leaves on some of Maple’s trees are withered to show Sumac’s symbol, and Water Lily’s pond was partly drained so that the lilies made the symbol belonging to Chervil. You can see the symbols best from the air.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Poppy said, looking puzzled. “Why would anyone damage plants to draw pictures?”
“That’s what I’m wondering,” I replied.
“So you’re saying that you didn’t do it?” Eadric asked as he joined us.
“Of course I didn’t do it!” Poppy said, starting to look angry. “What a horrible accusation!”
“Do you think Chervil might have, then?” Eadric continued.
“I don’t know anyone who would do such a terrible thing!” cried Poppy. “No decent fairy would even consider it.”
“Uh-huh,” Eadric said, rubbing his chin.
“Do you know where we might be able to find Chervil?” I asked Poppy.
“I think he’s meeting some fairies in the garden of two witches. Ocu-something or other is the name of one of them,” said Poppy.
“Oculura and Dyspepsia!” I cried. “I know them well. Then that’s where we’re going next.”
“Do you mind if I go with you?” asked Poppy. “I’d like to see who showed up to listen to Chervil. A lot of fairies who had promised to come to my rally weren’t here. I want to know if they’ve already gone over to his side.”
“I don’t mind at all,” I told her.
We were heading toward my carpet when Adara caught up with me. “Why are you spending so much time looking for someone who damaged some leaves?”
“Because I promised I would,” I replied. Even more, I was curious about who might end up replacing a Fairy Queen I hadn’t really known but who had already proven to be better suited for the job than the candidates I’d met so far. I was beginning to worry that we might be headed for more trouble than we realized.