Fairytales

Chapter 9

Sunlight drifted through the tiny window above the stove, its white light glinting off the steel appliances and enveloping the big kitchen in a happy glow. The air, which was cool against my flushed cheeks, smelled like flowers and, strangely, fresh baked cookies, though there were none in sight.

"Do you believe in magic, Damia?"

I stared, wide eyed, at the woman sitting on the silver bar stool beside me. Her long dark hair, which usually hung in gentle waves past her shoulders, was tied into a loose braid today, making her flushed cheeks and bright pink lips that smiled mischievously at me all the more exaggerated.

"Of course not." I said, staring at her with the accusing eyes of an eleven year old with trust issues. "Only babies believe in magic."

She looked away, swinging her long legs back and forth between the silver bars of her stool like a little girl. Her toes trailed along the floor with every swing, the brush of her dainty black flats against the tile making a rhythmic scritch scritch sound every time they did.

As covertly as I could manage, I mimicked her, testing the feeling, though my legs weren't quite long enough to touch the ground yet, even if I stretched. She didn't look upset about my answer just...thoughtful.

Against the far wall an old fashioned clock ticked away. My aunt would be here to pick me up soon. I'd gotten my quota of human contact for the week playing board games here with Chase and his mom and, more importantly, my aunt had had time to go through her new book arrivals without me around to distract her. Now it was time to go home.

Nina Allen's bright green eyes met mine again. "Are you sure?"

For a moment, I almost forgot what she'd been asking. Sure of what? But then I remembered. She'd been asking about magic.

I nodded indignantly, folding my arms over my thin chest. What kind of sucker did she take me for? Magic? Really?

She smiled, as if my answer amused her, an expression that made me even more upset at her. I didn't like being laughed at any more than I liked being asked silly questions. A moment passed, long enough for me to wonder how long it would take Chase to find those playing cards Nina had sent him to look for.

Suddenly, she leaned towards me, her hazel eyes bright with mischief. "What if I could prove to you that it was real?" She whispered. "Would you believe me then?"

Surprised more than anything, I found myself nodding, almost afraid of what she was about to do next.

Looking around as if to make sure no one was watching, she leaned back to pick up the little brown pot sitting in the center of the marble island. "Watch this." She said, seemingly satisfied that there were no spies hiding behind the refrigerator. She gestured towards a single green bud, no larger than my thumb, that stuck out of the tiny pot. A lily, or at least the beginnings of one, though it was much smaller than it should have been. I'd learned that much from the countless weekends my aunt had "asked" for my help in the garden.

Mrs. Allen held the little plant in one hand, raising the other to hover just above the tip of the little bud. With a wink at me, she closed her eyes. Under her breath, she began to mumble something I couldn't understand.

I watched her curiously, wondering what I was supposed to be doing. Should I close my eyes too? But as soon as I thought it, I knew I wasn't. This was for me to see.

My fingers began to tingle, just a tiny bit at the tips.

Her forehead creased in concentration. A bead of sweat appeared on her forehead.