Fairy Godmother

to be hidden among trees. But as soon as she spotted it, she realized that the light was getting closer, and the treetops nearer, very quickly indeed! She could see what was below them now, instead of it being a vague darkness, and all her fear came back. She clutched at the side and the seat of the cart convulsively, as they skimmed over the top branches, tiny twigs hitting the underside and the wheels, and then, while her stomach lurched with fear, they were above a clearing, in the center of which was a cottage with lights in every window and what was surely a garden surrounding it.

Then as her breath came short and her heart pounded, they were no longer above it, they were dropping down quickly.

Too quickly!

She wanted to scream, but nothing came out of her paralyzed throat, and a moment later, the little horse's hooves touched the ground in front of the cottage. Then the wheels set down with a bump, the horse halted, the cart rolled to a gentle stop, and there they were.

Elena felt limp with relief; Madame Bella patted her hand. 'There you are, my dear. Safe on the ground.' She laughed. 'I know you don't think it now, but one day you will let Sergei pull you across the sky without even thinking about it.'

Oh, no I won't! Elena thought, as her heart slowly calmed.

Madame Bella climbed down off the seat, and it was obvious as she moved that although she sounded as lively as a much younger woman, she certainly moved like an old one whose joints pained her. Not excessively, just enough to slow her down a bit, and make life — difficult for her.

She opened the garden gate, and the little horse drew the cart inside and up the garden path without being asked. But when he stopped at the front door of the cottage, Elena also jumped down from her perch on the seat. Dream or no dream, she wasn't about to sit about while poor Madame Bella struggled with harnesses and straps.

'Where is the stable, Madame?' she asked, coming to the little horse's head.

'Around to the side — will you lift your bundle down for me?' the old woman asked.

'I'll bring it myself,' Elena said firmly. 'And I will unharness the little horse.' Dream or no dream, she wasn't about to show so little respect for a good old woman like Madame Bella as to make her do work that Elena was better suited to.

Madame Bella smiled. 'Bless you child; I am pleased to see you wishing to take up your duties already. Sergei won't stay the night, but the cart should be put away. Sergei?'

The horse whickered and trotted off, going around the side of the cottage and taking the cart skillfully with him. When Elena followed she discovered a neat little stable, into which Sergei had already backed the cart. She had him unharnessed in a few moments; though he insisted on keeping the hat. She looked for and found a currycomb, but the horse shook his head at her merrily, and with a leap, vanished — upward.

Yes, this was surely a dream. Bemusedly, and wondering when it would end, she picked her bundle out of the back of the cart, and for good measure, the basket of dishes and leftovers from under the front seat, and carried both of them around the corner and in at the front door.

And there she got yet another surprise, for although the cottage looked small on the outside — cozy for one, but perhaps a little confining for two — on the inside, well, although it was no palace, it was certainly far larger than it appeared.

Ah. This could be nothing but a dream. What she was looking at was simply not possible.

Before her was a modest antechamber, with a pair of benches flanking the door. Beyond that, was apparently a fine sitting-room, with furniture the equal of anything that the Klovis household had boasted. It was all of that older, heavier style, and had been so well-polished that it glowed in the candlelight. There were two doors beyond that within Elena's vision, and a bit of a staircase. From all appearances, this place was about the size of the Klovis house.

On the inside. On the outside, it looked to be a two-room cottage.

I had no idea that I had such a good imagination.

Madame Bella was talking to two peculiar little creatures. They were about the height of children — coming to just about Elena's waist — but their hair was silver, and they looked like a pair of gnarled and wizened old men, dressed in leather trousers, immaculate linen shirts, and red vests. Both of them wore soft, pointed brown caps, and both were barefoot.

'Ah, Elena! This is Hob, and this is Robin,' she said as Elena paused on the threshold. 'Hob is in charge of anything to do with mending in my household, and Robin is in charge of anything to do with making.' The little old fellows turned grave, dark eyes on her and bowed solemnly. She curtsied in return, and her mind belatedly caught up with what she was seeing. These must be Brownies, or House-Elves; one of the lesser branches of the Faerie Folk.

And they were, evidently, serving Madame Bella. Mending and making? An odd way to divide the duties. Still, if it suited the Brownies, who was she to criticize? 'Is working in the garden mending or making?' she asked both of them. 'What I saw of it is lovely.'

'Ah. That'd be tending, and that'd be Lily, Mistress,' said Hob, with a finger laid aside his nose and a nod. 'She be gone to bed anow. 'Tis Robin's Lily as does the tending, and my lass Rosie who does the cleaning.'

'And when Robin lets me, I have been known to do the cooking,' Madame said with a silvery chuckle. 'They'll be staying on to help you when you are Godmother here.'

Elena noticed immediately that Madame did not say, serving. So, the Brownies were not servants; given what little she knew from nursery tales, to call them servants or treat them as such would be a deadly insult.

Robin evidently anticipated the question she was afraid to ask. 'Tis our honor and our duty to help the Godmothers and White Wizards and Witches, Mistress,' he said solemnly. 'For when the Black-Hearted Ones move in, it is our kind that are the first to suffer.'

'You'll learn all about that later, dear,' Bella said, as Robin took her bag from her, and Hob the basket. 'Come along now, and I'll show you your room.'