“If we need magic to help us find magic,” Millie said, “we’ll have to go ask someone who can do the right kind of spells. I’m going to the enchanted forest to see if any of the three witches are home.”
Five
The cottage lay in the heart of the enchanted forest, far from any other human or witch dwelling. It had once belonged to a would-be witch who had captured Millie’s mother after Emma had been turned into a frog, but now it was the home of three real witches, two of whom were sisters. Although all three witches were friends of her family, Millie was especially fond of Azuria, the Blue Witch, and it was Azuria whom Millie and Audun first saw when they landed in the field beside the cottage.
“Hello, Millie! Hello, Audun!” the witch shouted as she ran past, waving a butterfly net. A sapphire blue butterfly zigzagged just out of reach as the elderly woman lunged after it, her net snapping in the air.
The air around them shimmered as the two dragons turned into their human form and stood waiting for Azuria to come back. When the old witch continued to dart around the field, Millie looked at Audun and shrugged. “Maybe we should talk to someone else.”
They could hear voices arguing inside the cottage as they drew closer, so they knew that the two sisters were home. Millie’s mouth watered at the scent of fresh-baked cherry pie, and she smiled when Audun raised his nose to sniff. She knocked on the door, and a moment later it opened with a bang. A woman with gray hair and bright blue eyes greeted them, reaching out a flour-covered hand to gesture them inside. Her name was Oculura and she carried a large wooden batter-filled bowl. She was stirring her wooden spoon with so much energy that the batter sloshed over the sides, splattering her clothes, the walls, and the floor. “Come in, come in and make yourselves comfortable,” said Oculura. “Dyspepsia, clear off that bench so our guests can sit down.”
“Don’t you tell me what to do!” said an even older white-haired woman as she swept a pile of clean clothes off the bench and into her arms. Scowling at her sister, she stomped across the room and kicked the wall. The fireplace slid back, making a grinding sound and revealing another room beyond it.
“But that’s an outside wall,” Audun murmured into Millie’s ear. “That’s not possible.”
The room they were standing in seemed bigger than she remembered it, and she thought the way the fireplace moved was definitely new. “They’re witches,” whispered Millie. “Anything is possible for them, which is why we came.” In a louder voice, she said to Dyspepsia, “We need to talk to you.”
“I’m busy,” said the old woman. “Talk to Miss Bossy over there.” Grumbling to herself, Dyspepsia flung the clothes through the doorway and kicked the wall again. “I’ll deal with them later,” she said as the fireplace swung back. Millie had to jump out of the way when the witch grabbed a broom and began to beat the floor with it, sending up thick clouds of dust.
“We need your help,” Millie said, crossing the room to where Oculura was dumping batter into a pan.
“Dyspepsia, mind that dust!” shouted Oculura. “If you keep that up, there will be more dust than flour in this cake!”
“That would be an improvement,” Dyspepsia replied.
“I can’t talk to you now,” Oculura told Millie. She scuttled across the room, moving a pan of cooling tarts from a table to the windowsill. “We couldn’t sleep last night, what with that storm booming and banging, so I tried something new and made us all cups of sleep-tight tea. It worked very well because we slept like logs—”
“We slept like the dead,” said Dyspepsia. “The house could have collapsed around our ears and we wouldn’t have noticed. I told her this morning that that wasn’t a good thing, but does she ever listen to me?”
“There’s only one problem with sleep-tight tea,” Oculura continued. “When you finally do wake up—”
“We slept hours past our usual get-up time,” declared Dyspepsia, emphasizing each word with a thwack of the broom at whatever object was closest. Audun hopped out of the way when she turned in his direction.
“When you finally do wake up,” Oculura repeated, “you have so much energy that you can’t sit still. Azuria went outside to catch blue butterflies for a potion she invented, and I decided to cook. Dyspepsia said she’s going to clean, but all she’s done is make a bigger mess than before.”
“That’s not true!” snapped her sister. “This place hasn’t looked this good in years!”
“The extra energy isn’t supposed to last long,” said Oculura. “No more than an hour or two.”
“Don’t listen to her. It’s been two hours and forty-seven minutes since I woke up.” Dyspepsia jabbed the broom at an hourglass filled with sand, knocking it onto the floor so that it shattered, spilling sand across Millie’s shoes.
Oculura began to crack eggs into a bowl. “Normally, I’d use magic for this, but I have to use all this energy somehow. You’ll have to stay for supper. I’ve already made too much food for just the three of us.”
“Actually,” said Millie as she tried to get out of Dyspepsia’s way when the old woman began to attack the spilled sand with a broom. “We’re in a hurry, so—”
The door behind her creaked open and Azuria shuffled in carrying a woven basket with a wooden lid. She dragged her feet as she crossed the room and collapsed onto the bench, dropping the basket on the floor beside her. “Every muscle in my body hurts,” she said, slumping against the wall. “My bones, too. I’m too old for this.”
“See,” said Oculura, “she’s used up her extra energy.”
Azuria shook her head. “That wasn’t extra energy. I’ve used up every bit of energy I would have had this week and next. I don’t think I’ll be able to move again until spring.”
“I’m still going strong,” Dyspepsia announced. “When I finish sweeping, I’m going to …” She took a step and staggered. Reaching out her hand, she grabbed hold of the edge of the table for support. “I guess that’s it for me. The end sure does come fast.”
“I don’t understand,” said Oculura. “You both drank more tea than I did, but I still have loads of energy. Who would like a nice plate of … Oh, I see what you mean. It sort of hits you all of a sudden.” Putting her hand to her head, she swayed on her feet until Millie helped her to a seat beside Azuria.
“Don’t ever make that tea again,” said Dyspepsia. “I haven’t been this tired since those villagers chased me out of town back when I was young and spry.”
Oculura nodded. “Sounds good to me. But at least we got a lot accomplished.”
“And I got a good night’s sleep,” Dyspepsia admitted. “That’s pretty rare these days.”
So,” Oculura said, glancing at Millie, “what was it you wanted to see us about?”
“Felix is gone,” Millie said. “Someone kidnapped him during the storm.”
The three witches looked shocked. “Oh no!” Azuria gasped. “That sweet little baby!”
“Who would do such a thing?” demanded Oculura.
“A no-good scoundrel who should be tied in a sack and tossed in a river,” Dyspepsia said. “That’s what I wanted to do to the last man who jilted me. I might still have the sack, if you want me to look for it.”
“First things first, Dyspepsia,” said Azuria. “We have to find dear little Felix and catch the horrid scoundrel before we can use your sack. Now, what can you tell us about the kidnapping?” she asked, turning to Millie.
“Audun and I were gone when it happened. We were taking care of a problem with manticores, and when we got home we learned that someone had distracted Felix’s nursemaid and taken him from his crib. Zoë and Li’l said they saw a strange light in the baby’s room and that a blast of air knocked them unconscious when they stopped to look. Mother and Great-Aunt Grassina are away, and so is my great-grandmother. Francis doesn’t have the right kind of magic, so we are hoping you can help us find Felix.”
“Of course we’ll help!” said Oculura. “You’re practically family! Would you mind getting my j
ar of eyeballs off that shelf? I’m too tired to move right now.”
Millie ran to get the jar and set it on the table in front of Oculura. After taking a pair of milky white eyes from the jar, the old woman bent over the table and popped out her bright blue ones. With the new eyes in her sockets, she stared off into space, seemingly looking at nothing.
“Those are her seer’s eyes,” Dyspepsia whispered to Audun. “She can use them to see into the future or the past. They aren’t pretty, but they get the job done.”
Oculura sighed and reached for the jar. “Except for now. They aren’t working. All I can see are clouds and rain. That storm seems to have blocked everything.”
“Fetch me my scrying bowl, Millie,” said Dyspepsia. “It’s the shiny silver bowl on the top shelf. That’s it. Now bring it here. Oh, and get me a dipper of water; I don’t need much. Now step back and let me look.” The elderly witch passed her wrinkled hand over the bowl, then leaned forward until it looked as though she was about to dip her face in it. Millie couldn’t see what she was looking at, but it wasn’t long before Dyspepsia sat back with a grunt. “It’s as Oculura said—all I can see are rain and clouds.”
Azuria fumbled at the neck of her tunic. “We’re not finished yet. I’ve had this farseeing ball for fifty-two years and it’s never failed me.” Pulling out a golden chain, she showed Millie a small crystalline ball held in place with a clasp shaped like a pair of tiny blue hands. Holding the ball up so everyone could see it, she murmured something and breathed onto the clear surface. Nothing happened for a moment, and Millie was sure it wasn’t going to work, but then an image began to form. She leaned forward for a better look. The image was blurry, and Millie was willing it to become clearer when the farseeing ball suddenly filled with clouds. Azuria frowned and shook the ball. Rain slashed through it, seeming to splash and run down the ball’s inner surface.
“Drat,” said Azuria. “That’s never happened before.” She sighed and replaced the ball under the fabric of her tunic. “You know what it means if none of us can see what happened, don’t you, ladies?”
Oculura nodded. “That storm wasn’t natural. Whoever took the baby created that storm to block anyone from seeing what he was doing.”
“Or she,” said Dyspepsia. “I know a few witches who could have done this.”
“We need to call for help.” Azuria grunted as she reached down to her wicker basket and took out one of the blue butterflies. Holding it carefully between her cupped hands, she whispered to the insect, then opened her hands and set it free. The butterfly fluttered around her head before flying to the window and out into the sunlight. “I laid a compulsion on that butterfly,” said the old woman. “She has to go find the fairy Moth and ask her to come here. Moth goes out at night. She might have seen that strange light you mentioned. If she did, it would have drawn her like, well, like a moth to flames.” Azuria chuckled to herself as she sat back on the bench.
“Do you mean she might be able to tell us who took Felix?” asked Audun.
Azuria nodded. “I hope so.”
“While we’re waiting,” said Oculura, “would anyone like a fruit tart or a slice of pie?”
“No thanks,” Dyspepsia replied, making a face. “Watching you cook has put me off food.”
Oculura had put vivid green eyes in her sockets. They seemed to get darker when she glared at her sister and said, “I thought you liked my cooking!”
While the two sisters argued, Millie joined Audun by the window. The sky had cleared and the rain had washed away the dust, leaving everything looking fresh and clean. Droplets sparkled in the sunlight, but Millie soon noticed that one sparkle seemed bigger than the rest and was moving toward them. It drew closer until she could make out the tiny figure of a fairy.
Millie and Audun stepped back when the fairy flew through the window and landed on the floor. In an instant, she turned from a fairy no bigger than half of Millie’s little finger to one who was human sized. Her soft white wings and pale blue hair were very pretty, but Millie thought it was her large, dark eyes that made her look unusual. She seemed shy at first and uncomfortable at the scrutiny of so many people.
“Moth, I’d like you to meet our good friends Millie and Audun. Millie’s mother is Princess Emeralda, the Green Witch.”
Moth smiled and visibly relaxed. “I know your mother, Millie. She’s a good friend to fairykind. From what I’ve heard, you are as well. Thank you for helping my friends Trillium, Moss, and Poison Ivy. If there’s ever anything I can do for you …”
“Actually, we need your help right now,” said Millie. “My mother is away and someone stole my baby brother during the night. We’re trying to find out who took him.”
“Did they leave another baby in his place?” the fairy asked.
Millie shook her head. “His crib was empty.”
“Then it wasn’t a fairy who took him. We always leave changelings to take the place of human babies.”
Both Audun and Millie looked surprised, but the witches just nodded as if they’d heard it before. “You really do that?” said Millie. “I thought it was just a rumor.”
“I never have, but I know other fairies who’ve done it. Human babies can be so cute!” said Moth.
Azuria cleared her throat. “What we really wanted to ask you was if you happened to notice a strange light coming from the castle last night. If you did, did you go to see what it was?”
Moth shook her head. “The storm was so awful that I spent the night in a hollow tree. I couldn’t have flown in that wind if I’d wanted to, not without being blown halfway to the next kingdom. If I were you, I’d ask Raindrop. She learns a lot from listening to the falling rain.”
“Of course!” said Azuria. “Why didn’t I think of that? Thank you so much, Moth.”
“I’m glad I could help,” Moth said, shrinking once again. “We fairies do what we can!”
Six
The three witches were still debating how to contact Raindrop when Moth reappeared with Raindrop beside her. “I told Raindrop what you needed to know, so she insisted we go to the castle before coming here,” Moth told them.
Raindrop nodded, her pale blue hair swirling around her delicate, pointy-chinned face. “Some people think I hear what the rain says only when it’s falling, but I can hear it anytime, even after it’s collected in a puddle!” She crinkled her nose and squinted when she glanced at Moth, as if to say that her friend was just such a person. “I wanted to listen to the raindrops where they collected in the puddles at the castle,” she said, turning back to Millie. “I didn’t know which window you meant, but I listened to each puddle till one mentioned a bright light. It told me that a person wearing a cloak came out through the high turret’s window when the storm was at its worst. The figure was carrying a bundle, which could have been a baby, and flew off on a broom. I suppose the person was a witch. She went northeast, if you’re interested.”
“We’re very interested,” said Audun. “We have to find Felix and bring him back.”
“I can go with you, if you want me to,” Raindrop added. “The puddles will tell me where he went, but only for a little while. Once the rain dries up or gets soaked into the ground, it can no longer talk to me.”
Millie felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her. She’d been so frightened that they’d never find her brother, but if the fairy could help find him …
“We’re going, too,” said Dyspepsia. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. We haven’t had this much excitement around here since a boy griffin thought Oculura was a girl griffin and tried to carry her off.”
“I was in the garden,” said Oculura. “I don’t know what he saw, but he sure liked it.”
Dyspepsia chortled. “Maybe it was your feathered underwear.”
“I didn’t have any choice,” said Oculura. “It was laundry day.”
“We’ll fly on our brooms, of course. I suppose you and Audun will travel by your usual method?” Dyspepsia asked.
> Millie shrugged. “We have to. We didn’t bring my magic carpet.”
“What method is that?” asked Raindrop, quirking a pale blue eyebrow.
Audun and Millie smiled at each other as they stepped across the threshold and into the sunshine. “As dragons,” Millie said as the air around them began to shimmer. She blinked as her eyes turned into those of a dragon. Colors looked different, and she could see the fairies even more clearly than before. Raindrop’s blue hair had streaks of ultraviolet, a color Millie hadn’t been able to see as a human.
Once everyone was outside, Moth decided that she wanted to go with them. “It looks like a party,” she said, turning into her smaller self. “I can’t resist a good party.”
“It may take a while before I find more rain that can tell us anything,” said Raindrop.
Moth zigzagged around her. “Then you’d best get started.”
Millie, Audun, and the witches flew above the forest, circling while Raindrop looked for puddles. It took some time before she found one that could tell her about the cloaked figure. The tiny puddle was located in the crook of a tree and was nearly invisible to anyone in the air except a dragon or a fairy. The witches joined the two dragons to watch Raindrop scoop out a handful of water and bend down to listen as it dribbled back into the puddle. She looked satisfied when she glanced up to say, “The figure flew over this tree still headed northeast.”
They moved more quickly after that, finding puddles in depressions in boulders, on top of witches’ cottages, and in muddy dips in dirt roads. Moth finally grew tired of waiting for her friend and flew off, claiming that she was bored. The others followed Raindrop, anxiously awaiting her announcements each time she found the next puddle.
“Rain talks to all of us,” she told them. “You just have to know how to listen.”