Unlikely Friends

Fawn

"A heart of a pigeon, a pinch of lemongrass," I muttered to myself, dropping the ingredients into my black cauldron, which was nearly overflowing.

Kat walked in and sat down. She looked at me, then at the cauldron and asked me as if I were a child, "What crazy thing are you making now?"

I huffed and said, "It's an advanced potion that, if sprinkled on the desired object, gives that object the ability to levitate."

"You mean, fly?" she asked, picking at her nails.

"Yes, I mean fly."

"Can I play with your wands?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, handing her a regular stick. She can't tell normal sticks from actual wands, so that would keep her busy for a while.

I turned around, back to my potion, and heard her yell, "Explode! Explode!" I whipped around and saw her pointing at our fluffy white cat, Walter.

"Why do you want Walter to explode?!" She shrugged, dropped the stick, and walked out. Kat is a demon, honestly. Sometimes I can't believe we're twins.

I picked up the stick and threw it in the drawer with the rest of my decoys. When I turned around, I almost jumped out of my skin. Something, someone, was standing in front of my cauldron. "Uh..." I began, but the person didn't give me time to speak.

"I've heard from my sources that you're quite good at magic." I immediately thought Kat. But she wouldn't tell anyone. That was our secret.

"Fawn, is it?" I nodded, scared.

"Can you demonstrate?"

"Uh... I guess so," I said, reaching for my favorite wand.

"No, no. Your potion, silly goose," said the figure, and I swear I heard a honk, almost like a . . . goose.

I scooped the tiniest bit out with a ladle, and sprinkled it onto the pencil on the table next to me. It floated, and I smiled, glad that it worked.

"Good work. I'll be seeing you later," said the figure.

"Wait!"

"Yes, child?"

"Who are you?!"

"My dear, I am Mother Goose," she said, stepping into the light. She had the body of a human, except with white feathers. Her nose was strangely beak-like, and she wore a white dress. She also had a pair of thin, wire glasses on.

Then she vanished in a puff of smoke. The only trace that she had really been there was a feather on the ground and a letter addressed to me.