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14.2: NEVER TRUST A BROOMSTICK THAT MOVES BY ITSELF (part 2)

Rupert and Harriet frowned up at this impressive archway.

"Gaol?" Rupert asked. "Doesn't look like a gaol to me."

"It's... beautiful," said Harriet.

"How kind of you to say so."

Startled, they looked down to find that a figure had appeared in front of them. It was a woman, one hand on hip, regarding them with amusement. She had rich brown hair that fell in thick waves down her back. She had sparkling hazel eyes framed by long, black lashes. She had deliciously cherry-red lips. She had flawless, velvety skin. And she was wearing a crimson dress that flattered her figure perfectly.

She's even got shapely calves, Night swallow her, Harriet thought, suddenly painfully aware of her own shabby attire, dirty face, and unwashed hair. She glanced at Rupert. His mouth was hanging open. Harriet felt a stab of something that might have been jealousy. This upset her even more. Turning her attention back to the woman, she decided not to stoop to glaring, and instead adopted the most aloof expression she could muster.

If the woman noticed, she didn't show it.

"It's always welcome to hear one's work praised." The woman smiled, revealing perfectly straight pearly-white teeth.

"One's work?" This took a moment to register. "Wait," said Harriet. "Do you mean to say that you are the fairy godmother? Are you Minola Caw?"

The woman turned her a delighted expression. "I am Minola Caw, yes. However did you know?"

"We met your sister," Harriet explained. "In Barthane. She lent us your broom. It, ah, it flew."

Minola Caw's laugh was like the tinkling of silver bells. "Ah yes, it does have character, doesn't it?"

"That isn't exactly how I'd put it," Harriet murmured.

"I wondered why it had turned up after all this time. I half worried that Agatha had come to some misfortune, but I am glad to hear she's well. And doing good deeds too."

"But..." Rupert finally managed to speak. "If you're Miss Caw's sister... and she's... well, she's... and you're... so... so... young?" he finished feebly.

Another tinkling laugh. "But didn't Agatha explain to you that my magic is much more powerful than hers? We often used to joke that I got all the talented genes in the family, while she was left with the dud ones!" She laughed again. Harriet didn't see how this was particularly funny, especially not for poor Agatha Caw. Rupert, however, let out a chuckle. Harriet glared at him, but his eyes were occupied elsewhere. Harriet began to sulk.

"So you're the fairy godmother of this town?" she demanded. "Where are all the people?"

"My dear," Minola Caw said, "the people of Pinwick are good people. And so they are all inside with their families, being good citizens and doing good things."

"Can't they do good things outside?"

"But that would disturb the neighbours," Minola Caw reprimanded her gently. "And we can't have that, can we?"

"Certainly not," Rupert chimed in. Harriet wanted to hit him. He did glance at her then, and looked abashed. "Well, you know, it's rude and all that..." He trailed off, clearing his throat.

At this point, Juggalug struggled out of Rupert's pocket. It did Harriet's mood no good at all to see the banshee falter at the sight of Minola Caw. Juggalug's eyes grew even wider than usual.

Apparently the feeling was not mutual. Minola Caw caught one glimpse of Juggalug and recoiled. "Eurgh! What is that?"

Juggalug's ears drooped. He hid behind Rupert.