Clara and the Magical Charms (4 page)

Only two fairy families had brought what they said they would:

A single Harmony Casserole would never feed an island of fairies plus a colony of gnomes. And much as they all liked sweets, the gnomes and fairies would want something more filling after spending all day outside.
What were they all thinking?
Clara shook her head and smiled a little.
At least we'll have some great desserts.

Since all of Queen Mab's helpers were at the meadow, any new cooking and preparing would be up to Clara. She looked in the queen's storeroom and was relieved (though not surprised) to see it well stocked.

“This will be a challenge,” said Clara. “But I think I'm up to it.”

Clara set to work, humming to herself as she rolled up her sleeves and tied on an apron and started washing and sorting.

Before long, pots of water were boiling on the woodstove, vegetables were scrubbed, and eggs were beaten. Clara was putting the finishing touches on a pot of corn chowder when she heard a long, joyous cheer from the meadow.
That will be the end of the opening ceremony,
she thought.
They'll soon be here!

She felt a gust of icy air come through the door.

“Rosy, is that you? I could really use some help. The fairies have only brought cookies and candies, all because of those silly—”

“Gnomes?” said a deep voice.

Clara turned around. Oh no! A gnome was here—already!

“Hi. I'm Rowan.”

“Oh, hello,” said Clara.

Clara remembered Rowan well from last year's Games. He had done such a good job! He'd taken fourth place among all the competitors. The two Curricle sisters had won the second and third prizes. Only one other gnome—a brazen young chap called Alasdair who'd come first—had done better than Rowan.

Clara wasn't sure what to say to Rowan. She hadn't ever really talked to a gnome before.

“Um, do you . . . do you remember who I am?” Rowan asked at last. “I was at the Games last year.” He blushed. “You were in the, um . . . third row, second from the left when the Games began. You were giving out snacks to the fairies and explaining scoring to your sisters and looking after a little baby. All at the same time.”

“Sounds like me.”

“You're Clara Bell.”

Clara's eyes widened. She wanted to reply, but she wasn't sure what to say. Rowan must have thought that meant she didn't remember who he was, because he added quickly, “I didn't win. I'm sure you remember that.”

“You came in fourth,” said Clara. “That's a pretty big honor.”

“Not if you ask my big brother Alasdair.”

“Alasdair's your big brother?” asked Clara.

“Yes, and he never lets me forget it,” said Rowan. “He took first prize last year. As usual. But I'm going to beat him this year. I've been training all fall.”

“Training? What have you been doing?”

Rowan told Clara all about how he'd been practicing for the Games—running up his own island's steepest hill, lifting boulders, swimming around the Outer Islands.

“But I'm talking too much!” said Rowan. “I'm sorry. Tell me about you, Clara.”

Clara hesitated. But she felt Rowan would be very easy to talk to. Maybe it was because she knew he'd soon go back to the Outer Islands and she'd never see him again. Maybe it was the friendly twinkle in his dark eyes. “I've been training, too,” she said.

“For the Games?” asked Rowan.

“No, my sister Sylva has been training for the Games. I've been training . . .” Clara stopped herself. She wished she had not brought it up. “Um, did you know we have a baby dolphin in Sheepskerry Bay?”

“Are you changing the subject? Because I have a feeling I know what you've been training for,” said Rowan. “I think you're coming into your magic powers.”

Clara was startled. How did he know?

“Gnomes can do one or two tricks when they're my age, but they don't get their full powers till they're much older,” said Rowan. “Tell me what it's like.”

Rowan was so friendly, and Clara was so eager to talk about what was happening to her, that she found herself telling him all about her newfound magical powers. She even related the story of the grasshopper . . . and what Queen Mab had said so many years ago.

“‘A very great fairy,'” said Rowan. “Now that is an honor.”

“Maybe she says that to every fairy, just to build confidence.”

“But that wouldn't be true. Not every fairy becomes a truly great fairy. So I don't think it would be very queenly of her, would it?”

“I suppose not,” said Clara. “But how did you guess that my powers were coming? Does it show somehow?”

Rowan busied himself stirring the soup Clara had made, though it didn't really need stirring. “You just look more grown-up than you did last year,” he said. “Even prettier.”

They heard a clatter behind them, and Rosy burst through the door. “Clara! Julia Jellicoe told me what went on with the banquet. Do you need some help?”

“We're almost all set, Rosy. Rowan here has been helping out.”
And guessing things about me I thought nobody knew.
“If you two just finish up, I'll decorate the banqueting hall.”

“There's not a lot of time,” said Rosy. “Everyone will be arriving in a minute.”

“I've got a plan,” said Clara.

Clara flew into the banqueting hall. The pine tables were scrubbed, the napkins were pressed, and the tables were set for the welcoming banquet. It looked very simple and very plain.

“That's all very well for a colony of gnomes,” said Clara to herself. “But for fairies . . . it lacks a certain sparkle.”

Then she recited her charm.

Turn thrice around.

Fling wide your arm.

Sparkle now!

Obey my charm!

She spun around carefully and opened her eyes, hoping for anything but soot. “Oh my!” she cried.

The sparkle charm was different in the palace than it had been on the hill, but the effect was just as beautiful. Where there had been bare floors and empty vases, there were carpets of flowers and pots of blossoms. The tables were covered with spun gold. Balloons and ribbons streamed from the ceiling, and tiny glowing fairy lights sparkled like stars.

“Oh, it's gorgeous!” said Rosy when she flew in to see it. “How did you get all this done so quickly?”

“She works fast,” said Rowan. Then he smiled at Clara. “Though it looks a wee bit like magic to me.”

seven

“T
ug! TUG! T—U—G!”

Alasdair's team was winning the tug-of-war, and Goldie was almost out of her seat with excitement.

It was the morning after the welcoming banquet. Clara had saved the day.

“You were very smart to make us all some real food,” Julia Jellicoe had told her. “Sorry we didn't bring the tomatoes.”

Clara smiled. The banquet had worked out perfectly, even if it did wear her out more than she thought it would. There was piping-hot food (helped along by Rosy and Rowan), and everybody was thrilled with all the desserts. The dining hall itself was as magnificent as it had ever been—thanks to Clara's magic. Queen Mab had given Clara a warm smile when she saw the decorations.
Maybe she knows?
Clara thought.

Fairies and gnomes alike had enjoyed themselves enormously. They'd all had a good night's rest, and now the Games were in full swing.

“Come on, Alasdair! Win it for me!” Goldie cried.

With an enormous last PULL, Alasdair's team of gnomes yanked the other team across the centerline and won the contest. “Hooray!” Goldie cheered. Alasdair waved at Goldie in the stands. “I'm fainting!” said Goldie.

“You are such a goose!” said Sylva. “He doesn't really care about you. Look—now he's waving at Iris Flower.”

Poppy, in the seat next to Sylva, beamed. “I think he likes Iris too,” she said.

“Alasdair is a little show-offy,” said Rosy.

“He's not show-offy. He's just the best.”

“We'll see about that, Goldie,” said Clara. “Alasdair is doing well, but the other gnomes are right behind him.” She looked at the scoreboard. Alasdair was in first place; Rowan was a distant fifth.
Come on, Rowan,
she thought.
You can do it.