Chapter 15
The day passed fast for the industrious children, but the evening dragged on. So consumed with last-minute defenses and final preparations, no one had remembered or volunteered to manage dinner. With the help of Spurt and Fish, several of the girls cooked a big stew as fast they could and served it over rainbow rice—the only grain Gwen had ever seen grow in seven different neon colors.
Twilight hoisted the weight of the night onto the sky before they had even finished cooking, and the children grew cranky. Their apprehension for tomorrow's impending battle coupled with their empty stomachs did not make for an agreeable combination. They were even starting to get short with the fairies, who responded by getting haughty and flitting into the tree tops. in Mint and Inch began fighting over which one of them had accidentally bumped the other, Jam crossed her arms and refused to talk to anyone as she squatted in a temper, and Jet led many of the boys in their griping and repeated inquiry: is it dinner time yet?
Gwen also felt the exhaustion catching up with her, but she'd spent too many breakfast-less days plodding through classes before lunch to get grouchy about a late dinner. As the only one benefiting from this maturity, she felt obligated to put out all the many fires and fights cropping up among the children. She couldn't keep up with all their meltdowns, however, and eventually resorted to the one solution that would occupy everyone until dinner. “Who wants a story!” she asked.
Cranky faces lit up and fussy voices piped down. This question drew the children toward her like magnets to metal.
“Before dinner?” Newt asked, intrigued by the novelty.
“About Margaret May?” Rosemary asked.
“Yeah!” Yam chimed. “Do we finally get to hear what happens to Margaret May?”
“Yes, we'll finish the story tonight,” Gwen answered. “Everybody gather around the fire so the cooks can hear, too.”
Peter, who had eaten a very large and late imaginary lunch and was not hungry, hung upside-down in one of the grove's short trees. He hung upside-down often when he wanted to send blood to his head to help him think. He must not have been deep in thought, or else his thoughts had little consequence, because he flew out of his tree and landed right in front of Gwen so he would have a front-row seat for the final installment of the story. The fairies, intrigued, decided to grace the children with their company again, and clumped around Peter to hear the end of Margaret May's story.
While everyone got comfortable, Gwen asked, “Do you remember where we left off?”
Everyone was keen to answer, especially Peter, who remembered the least. “The old elf woman had given Margaret May her music box!” he exclaimed as the others began chattering.
“And then they heard the raven witch and had to run away.”
“She found the raven tree with the music box!”
“There was a dress in her egg.”
“No, it was a gown!”
“A gown is a dress, Newt.”
“Oh.”
“Alright, alright… this is what happened next.” As soon as Gwen began speaking, the children hushed and nestled into the grass. “Margaret May gathered the gown off the ground and wondered if the elfin music box might guide her out of the woods now that she had her gown. Before she could test her theory, she turned around and saw an old woman in a heavy black cloak standing behind her.”
“The raven witch!” Rosemary gasped. The children exchanged frightened mutterings.
“Yes,” Gwen confirmed. “The raven witch had found her, and followed her to the raven tree. 'How dare you steal from my raven tree!' the witch accused. 'What right have you to take from my secret magic? You, the child and blood of the villain who banished me for that very magic!'
“Margaret May was scared, but she did not run away. She pulled her lucky feather out of her pocket, and held it for comfort. 'Alas,' the witch cried, 'You have the feather I gave that silly innkeeper—you have the blessing of its enchantment and I cannot harm a hair upon your head. But curse you for stripping my tree of its fruit!'
Margaret May felt very afraid, but she was still a very brave girl, and she challenged the witch, 'What right have you to accuse me, you who stripped me of my natural parents and noble birthright?'
“'Do not be angry with me, child—I have spared you a horrible fate. You have never known the cruel heart of Westera's King, as I and your changeling have. I gave you to two kindly souls, for whom charity and compassion are second nature.'
“'I will be angry with you!' Margaret May proclaimed. 'I will head straight to Prince Jay's coronation and meet my true parents. I will tell them what you have done and show them our family music box. When I become a princess, I will care for everyone who has ever shown me kindness—but not you.'
“'I have done you the greatest kindness of all, child. You are a fool to dismiss it,' the raven witch replied.
“Margaret May shook her head and went to leave, but as she stepped forward, her foot snagged on a claw-like root and sent her stumbling. She reached out to stop her fall, but all she reached was the raven tree's trunk. Although it stopped her fall, one of the many beaks on the bark snapped at her hand and cut it open.”
“Eww!” Inch squealed, burying her face in her hands.
“Cool!” Newt and Sal cheered. Hollyhock shushed them all, too curious to let interuptions slow the story.
“It wasn't a big cut, or a deep cut, but the raven witch began laughing at poor, bleeding Margaret May. 'Now you have done it! Now your fate is sealed!' the old witch jeered. She continued to laugh, but the laughter began to sound like cawing and she transformed into a giant, black bird that flew off
