Fairy Godmother

should be familiar with every tale that any Godmother has ever been involved with. In your turn, you are expected to write up every Tradition Line that you steer — you can read and write, I hope?' Suddenly Bella looked very anxious, and Elena was pleased to be able to reassure her. 'Ah, good. Well, that will be one of the spells that you will have to perform; once you finish writing a tale, there will be an identical book in the library of every other Godmother and Warding Wizard, and those White Witches and Wizards who are powerful enough to have libraries like ours will also have a copy.' She shook her head. 'And this, of course, is why I no longer have a drawing room. I thought about performing the spell to add a room, but I never got around to it. That will be your duty, I expect. I can't see how many more books can be added without spilling into some other room — and Lily would be most vexed if that happened.'

'How is it that this is nothing more than a cottage from outside, and all this on the inside?' Elena asked, pleased for the opening at last to ask what she had been dying to know.

'Ah. That is rather difficult to explain. In fact, I'm not entirely certain that I can, except to say that it is magic, and it is necessary.' Madame Bella shrugged. 'There is nothing to show on the outside that this is not the abode of an ordinary White Witch, or even some peasant who has chosen to live apart in the forest. I told you that we have enemies, and it has happened in the past that in order to facilitate their schemes, they began by eliminating the region's Godmother. Not often, but it has happened.'

'Oh,' Elena said, sobered. So, this Godmothering business was dangerous. She felt a little touch of fear at that moment. She wasn't used to danger. Life with her stepmother had been hard, lonely, unhappy and unpleasant, but not precisely dangerous. Danger was something that happened to other people — why, hadn't she considered and discarded the idea of simply running away and taking her chances because of the danger?

Difficult, complicated, and now dangerous. But on the other hand, I will never be bored, and no one will be making a slave out of me. There was a great deal to be said for that, and as for the danger —

I will be helping to make other peoples' dreams come true.

'You will make dreams come true, Elena,' Madame Bella said, softly, in an uncanny echo of Elena's own thoughts. 'And dreams are dangerous things in and of themselves.' She cast another look around the library. 'Look at them! Dreams and nightmares, hopes and fears. Compared to some of the trials that our heroes and heroines must face in order to earn their happy endings, what we Godmothers encounter is really trivial so long as we are careful to keep our true nature hidden. You'll see, when you come to read them, for not every tale has that happy ending. Not every hero is brave enough, resourceful enough, or lucky enough, even with our help, to triumph in the end.' There was a shadow on Madame Bella's face, and she seemed to be recalling something that was very sad indeed. Then she shook her head. 'Read the books, Elena, and you will see.'

The rest of the ground floor was given over to working rooms. There was a dairy-room, a stillroom, the kitchen, of course, a little office, a sewing-room; in short, everything this establishment needed to be self-sufficient. 'We take care of a great deal of our own needs here,' Madame said with pride. 'There are two villages within walking distance, and we have arrangements with people in both of them for things like flour and so forth. The villagers all believe that I am a White Witch, and often come to me for spells and cures, and pay me in things that we need.' She smiled. 'Which, of course, is another reason why my home appears to be a simple cottage on the outside. You will soon see that we do not squander magic on the things we can supply by the same means as anyone else. We help our local people, earning our way the same as any other craftsman, and our local people, since they do not know that I am a Godmother, assist in creating the illusion that I am just the local White Witch. They will see nothing amiss in my having taken an Apprentice; in fact, I suspect that they will be somewhat relieved.'

'That sounds like an excellent arrangement to me,' Elena replied, feeling relieved, for she could not envisage herself as a farmer, and the House Elves did not seem young nor strong enough to be farm-workers. Of course, according to the tales she had heard, there was no telling with Elves; they might look frail, yet be strong as an ox.

'In the same way, we aid the local Faerie Folk in return for their help, both in terms of the service that Hob and Robin and their wives give us, and in magic. They, however, know that I am a Godmother, and by now, they have heard about you.' Madame Bella smiled broadly. 'The Faerie Folk always seem to know about something within the hour of it happening.'

Outside the house — which still looked, and from all angles, like a simple two- or three-room cottage — were the gardens. In the front were the flowers and ornamental plants; two on either side were herb-beds. The culinary herbs were to the right of the cottage, the healing herbs to the left. Of course, there were some herbs that served both purposes, but as Madame pointed out, having them in both gardens meant only that she could be sure that there would always be enough.

In the rear was the kitchen-garden, with handsome red hens industriously scratching among the planted rows, looking for insects or weed-sprouts; this was where they found the Brownie Lily, working diligently among the young cabbages.

And as she listened to their quiet clucking, she got a shock. She certainly heard clucking — but she also heard something else.

'Greedy, greedy, greedy,' muttered one hen, jealously eyeing a choice patch of ground that a bigger hen was scratching. 'Not enough bugs,' grumbled another, and the rest simply evidenced contentment.

She could, indeed, understand the speech of animals.

It took her a moment to catch her breath when she realized the truth, it seemed as if, for now, her life was going to be one disconcerting moment after another.

Finally she caught her breath, so to speak, and turned her attention back to what Madame was saying about her garden.

If ever there was a model vegetable garden, this was surely it — the rows were as straight as could be, the young plants healthy and flourishing. And if Elena was any judge, the gardener had started her plants in stages, so that there would be vegetables at the perfect state to harvest all summer long. It was difficult to manage, and took a great deal of skill, as well as careful management of cold-frames. Elena had never managed it properly, and only knew two farmers at home who had done it — and their produce almost always went straight to the Palace.

'Ah, Madame Bella!' said the Brownie, rising to her feet and brushing soil from her canvas apron. 'I've some lovely sparrow-grass coming; not for dinner today, but definitely for tomorrow. This would be Mistress Elena, then.'

'Yes,' Elena answered for herself. 'And you are Lily; these are wonderful gardens!'