Gretchen scrubbed a hand over her face, and Jurgen returned with one of her curtains. She blinked at the drapes embroidered in vines, her favorite set that had hung in her living room for as long as she could remember.
“All right. We can fix this. Jurgen, are you handy with a razor?” She pushed the curtain into Rapunzel’s arms and turned to inspect the damage in her vegetable patch. Long locks hung off the pumpkin in delicate curls. “We give it a once over now and take care of the five-o'clock shadow just before Nora officiates. If we’re lucky—”
“What about me?” Rapunzel stood with the curtain pulled around her like a towel and glowered down at her. “You can’t leave me like this.”
“It’s no problem, really.” Gretchen waved her hand. “Spell should wear off by the time your party kicks off later.”
“Should? What do you mean, should? And what about my hair?”
Gretchen squeezed her eyes shut and tossed the rest of the hair tonic into the air. When she opened them again, Rapunzel had the tiny jar to her lips.
“You can hide out here until later, and when you begin shrinking, you can head toward the baron’s estate. It’s an hour at the most. Once the magic starts waning, it won’t be long before you’re back to normal.”
Rapunzel reached down to pluck Gretchen off the ground by her collar.
“I don't think you’re listening. If you think you can pass that pumpkin off as anything other as a well-groomed abomination, you’re out of your mind. Now, get back into that kitchen and brew something to put this right, or so help me I will stomp your vegetable garden to bits.”
Rapunzel dropped her in a heap and tugged her curtain closer. Dusting herself off, Gretchen stood muttering under her breath.
“Well, that might have been possible if you hadn’t just scarfed the hair potion,” she huffed. “Anything that could cancel out the growing brew, which would take hours I don't have to prepare, would also have those curls falling out faster than you could say yippee!”
Rapunzel fondled her curls, which were snaking their way down to the ground and pursed her lips.
“Well, you’re not leaving me like this.”
“Fine.” Gretchen balled her fists at her side and swung her gaze to Jurgen. “The pumpkin goes in the carriage and Miss Uppity here can ride in the wagon.”
Jurgen shrugged and turned to the garden, while Rapunzel threw her arms up, almost losing her shroud in the process.
“A wagon? Looking like this?”
“Your choice.” Gretchen shrugged. “I’m going. If you don’t trust my word that you’ll be fit for the party, you can hear it from Nora.”
“Nora?” Rapunzel bent closer. “Is that the witch behind the baron’s infamous hexes?”
“The very same.” Gretchen clucked her tongue. “She’ll be officiating at the fair, and I’m sure she won't mind giving a second opinion. Isn’t that right, Jurgen?”
The troll hefted the pumpkin toward the carriage with a grunt. “So long as she hasn’t hit the brandy yet.”
Rapunzel narrowed her eyes and turned to her driver, who was doing his best to keep his eyes anywhere but on his scantily clad employer. Finding no reassurance, her shoulders slumped, and she hung her head.
“Fine. But you’ll find me something more… appropriate to wear.”
After arranging the pumpkin securely and lopping off what hair they could with a pair of shears, Gretchen left Jurgen to negotiate with the driver while she scoured her cottage for something more substantial for the overgrown lass. Coming up with nothing, she puffed out her cheeks and hauled out her spell book which was twitching in anticipation. She unbound its laces and tapped her toe.
“Okay, no time for games. I need a clothes solution for a giant girl, pronto.”
Gretchen blinked when the book snapped open to a page already printed with a simple spell with ingredients she kept among her stores. She kissed the hefty volume and tucked it back under the floorboards before racing back to her kitchen to prepare the charm.
Without boiling, mashing, pounding or dicing, she pressed the ingredients into a cotton pouch and tied a long length of string around it. With a quick scratch behind Mulligan’s ears, she locked her door and stepped into the morning sun, proffering the parcel to Rapunzel.
“What is this?” She held the packet up to stare at it.
“Hang it around your neck and come down here.” Gretchen beckoned with her finger.
With only a little trepidation, Rapunzel slung the string around her neck and leaned down. Gretchen reached up to clasp the packet and muttered an incantation under her breath. Wind whipped around the pair, and wisps of silver gathered around Rapunzel’s frame. She stood with a squeak and smoothed hands over the flowing folds of her glimmering gown; the curtain dropping to her feet.
“This is, well, it’s the finest dress I’ve ever seen!” She hugged her frame and did a twist to catch sight of the back. “Will this fit when I’m… normal?”
“Can’t see why not? I don’t see a size stitched in there.” Gretchen nodded to Jurgen. “Now let’s get out of here.”
“Not yet.” Rapunzel snapped her fingers. “Peter. I’ll need my things.”
The driver scrambled to haul a trunk from the coach’s back and Rapunzel settled on the ground pawing through boxes. Gretchen screwed up her face as she watched, and Rapunzel squawked in delight as she opened a box of paints which looked ridiculous in her substantial hands.
“Do you have a looking glass?” She cocked her head. “This one’s a little small.”
“She can’t be serious,” Jurgen threw up his hands. “We don’t have time for her to get dolled up for a wagon ride.”
“You can use my floor mirror on one condition.” Gretchen rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You paint your face en route. And I want no grumbling about ruts in the road.”
Rapunzel waved a hand and tittered. “I could paint my face upside down swinging from a tree if
