284. The Leafies Have Something to Say

284. The Leafies Have Something to Say

We, the Leafies, who publish Heather’s Moonly Letters to her brother Arley, said we would explain what the Fay Moon Calendar is. And we keep our promises, so we will do that now.

The Fay Lunar calendar has exactly the same months as the Gregorian Calendar mortals employ. But the moon, when it appears in the Apple Island sky, does not behave exactly like it does where mortals can observe it. To begin with, there is no month without a full moon in our night sky. Mortals may miss out on a moon, almost always during one or another February, but that doesn’t happen in Apple Island. What does happen in Apple Island is that the day there is a full moon, and when it is at its  exact fullest,  that moon changes colour for exactly sixty seconds. Now you see it, now you don’t. It turns a different colour for a minute every month. And if there are two moons in a month, which can happen, that moon goes true blue, as blue as any blue moon should be and isn’t in the mortal world. Below is a chart that shows the colours our full moons have for a minute each month.  

Next, a word about Predictit Pond, which is where we get to read Heather’s letters before they are written. To get to Predictit Pond you first have to find Predictit Well. It isn’t always in the same spot, but it is always meandering around the heart of Minced Forest. Never right on the heart though. 

Most people have no idea what this well is about. Some cast coins into it and make a wish. It doesn’t grant wishes to our knowledge, so if it seems it has, that must be a coincidence. However, if the coin you cast into it is a coin with the head of a donkey on the heads side of it and the date June 21, 1595 on the tails side, the well seems to grow wider and invites you to jump into it. Should you do this,  you will sink till you reach a small grassy, green  field with a light green pond in it.

 This is Predictit Pond. If you look into the pond thinking of what you would like to see in it, you might see just that. The vision won’t last long, but almost always it will stick to your brain and live in your memory for as long as you need it there. How to get out of the well when you are done having visions? That happens by itself. You suddenly find the well has cast you out of it, back into the forest. And you won’t be a drop wet.

Another question we would like to answer here is just what Beaurenard Leonado Flynn’s imaginary brother Radley looks like. Everyone has been asking. Well, that is everyone who hasn’t had the chance to see him in person. Michael O’Toora has been kind enough to draw a sketch of Radley for us so we could show him to you here. You will observe that stangely, this hare fairy looks tougher than delicate Beaurenard, for all Beaurenard is a fox fairy and should look more dangerous. Perhaps it is the penetrating golden eyes. Or the whiskers.

 

Radley  also tends to wear absurd – in our opinion- shirts and sweaters with patterns one usually finds decorating Easter eggs. But we suppose he has his reasons for wearing them, and in any case de gustibus non est disputandum. 

If you have doubts about anything else, or need more information about these subjects, feel free to write to us Leafies. To just leave a comment will do.

283. The Sixth Moonly Letter

The Leafies Speak: We returned to Predictit Pond and were able to read the sixth moonly letter, letter that Heather will write to Arley this June.   

283. The Sixth Moonly Letter written by Heather to her brother Arley during the warm lavender moon, in which it is proven there are those who feel concerned about the oyster’s tribulations.

My dearest brother,

Not much news this month. Since it has been established that neither Radley nor Beaurenard poisoned Alpin, and since Darcy has asked  his mother to accept this and take no action whatsoever against Beau, we had no reason to remain longer at the spa. We returned home, and we are living as we were before all this trouble.

Beau and I, however, could not help thinking that all was not right. He was so obsessed about the pebbles and the splinters in the oyster that I decided to do something about this. 

"I can't understand why you feel guilty about things that aren't your fault. Whether or not you are responsible for Alpin's having become an oyster may be debatable, at least in the opinion of those who are seeking for the terribly distant origin of this unfortunate piece of business, but you certainly haven't incited Betabel to torment the oyster. So you are not guilty of this."  

"I don't feel guilty about Alpin's having become an oyster. But I can't help thinking I now feel awful for having tempted him to eat what he did. I had to protect you, and I did that as best I could. That is what I was sent to you for. But I didn't tell Betabel that pretty as the pearls Alpin produces may be, they are the result of the oyster's sufferings.And that what she is doing to her husband is going too far."

"And you didn't tell her because you knew she already knew that. Isn't that so?"

"I didn't dare to tell her this because it looked like she was enjoying tormenting him and because, sincerely, I don't think she is in her right mind."

"We don't know what may have happened to make her be the way she now is. But we know that two bullies fooled her, making her think they were aliens, that her family got sick and tired of her for all the trouble she had caused them and ended up disowning her for marrying Alpin. And being married to Alpin cannot have been easy. I had no idea that oysters suffered when they produced pearls, The pearls we have in fairyland are all the result of accidents. All natural. No one provokes oysters to make pearls. It doesn't surprise me that you said nothing to Betabel. It isn't easy to say something like that to a person who has problems. But we are in time to do this."  

We booked a room at Betabel’s hotel. A very fine one it is, with great views , and I must say we enjoyed our stay at Easter Island. As soon as I found it prudent, I spoke to Betabel. Her necklace is already the best to be had of fay pearls in the fay world, with strings and strings of robust and brilliant pealrs, for a fay oyster is a very special magic treasure, and can produce pearls at the rate of thirty at the same time. I congratulated Betabel on her fine and unique necklace, though I had my reservations about how it had come to exist. She tried to sell me some pearls and I saw my chance to put a stop to the oyster’s torment. 

"This necklace is right now a marvel. But part of its value is due to how uncommon it is. There are no pearls as lovely as these. But if you create more and more and sell them, beautiful as they are, they will become common and therefore less valuable."

And that was enough to make Betabel stop torturing the oyster. But that wasn't all. I had a proposal to make. I made it, and she accepted.

So, when we got back home, we went to see the pookah, Beau and I. We walked all the way to Garth's bridge in Minced Forest. There were a lot of beautiful plants growing all around, on and even under  the bridge, bright green mosses and spreading lamium with its silvery foliage and pink flowers, blue foxglove and pale water violets and  lady’s mantle with its jewel-like leaves and its smiling baby stars, to name a few,  but there was no trace of the pookah. However, a Leafy asked me if it was  Garth I was looking for and told me he  was having lunch with Michael O’Toora at Michael's tree house, and thither we went.  Happily, because I felt I could count on Michael to help me handle the pookah. And so it was.

I began by asking Michael if he thought that Alpin had been a nice young man when he was a garbage-eater. Michael said that yes, he was much improved. Never had Alpin been a more bearable being than when he was this young fellow. And then I dared to ask the pookah if he might not turn the oyster into that young man again. The pookah was reticent at first, he was about to glare at me, but Michael helped me convince him this was the humane thing to do.

 And the Leafies put in a word too. They said the garbage-eater had never harmed the forest. Only once had he eaten a thing that had grown there, the filthy blackberry that had turned him into a one-eyed apple. But that didn’t count, because it was only an experiment. It was true he had made a snack of trash humans left behind there. But that was good for the forest.

 Only Alpin’s mother had objected to his being a garbage-eater, and she was distanced from Alpin now, for the oyster was wholly in Betabel’s possession. And Betabel, though she had never met the garbage-eater, had told me she could use one, whereas she might have no further use for the oyster, for if this unique creature produced too many pearls their value would decrease and they would be considered common. Yes, she repeated what I had told her as if it were her own idea. And I’m so glad she did. The guests at the hotel, she also said,  left behind a lot of trash, and having someone dispose of that would come in handy, always supposing the garbage-eater proved to be as tame a person as he was said to have been, for she didn’t want to go through what she had when living with Alpin. She voiced plenty of grievances but it is not necessary to repeat them here and it wouldn’t be nice of me to do that.

I left Michael’s treehouse with Garth’s promise to change the oyster into the strange young man it had once been if Betabel promised to keep him in Easter Island and away from Minced Forest. Before I left, Michael produced a likeness of the young man, a picture he had drawn of Alpin in this guise, and told me to show it to Betabel so she would know what to expect. I was a bit worried she might not like what she saw, but when I showed it to her through my crystal ball, she looked pleased and gave Garth the green light.      

“The change will take place on Midsummer Night, the twenty-first of this June,” said Garth, “when the Waxing Gibbous Moon sets a few hours before sunrise. Tell that girl to have at hand dry clothes and a mop, because her man will emerge from the fish pond she keeps the oyster in clothed but soaking wet. ”

And so it was. And as far as I know, the garbage devouring Alpin seems to have accepted his wife and they seem to be getting on nicely.  But the person who is most pleased with this arrangement is Beaurenard, who has thanked me profusely and repeatedly for having put an end to the oyster’s tribulations. He said he is very concerned about animal rights, for since he sometimes turns into one or another kind of animal himself, he knows how they feel. This very afternoon we mean to visit Apple Island’s Swan Lake, where we will swim, both in the guise of swans.

“What we both have to learn from this,” I said to Beau, “is that one has to be kind to one’s sentimental partner, just the same as to anyone else. Familiarity mustn’t breed contempt. And that it isn’t wise to be too jealous, Beau.”

And now, what we are concerned about is trying to make it possible for the Atshebies to have a name day party. This sounds easier than it is.

Heather

P. S. Little Mauel had an angel cake this month, all covered with zesty orange glaze. Many cats don’t like citrus fruits, but Little Mauel craves them, though he is very careful not to squirt their juice into his eyes.

Orange, Vanilla and Poppy Glaze

3 tablespoons butter, unsalted

One and three fourth’s cup powdered sugar

3 tablespoons of fresh orange juice

One half of the seeds of  a vanilla bean

A pinch of sea salt

One half teaspoon of poppy seeds

Melt the butter in a small pot over low heat. When melted add the sugar, the orange juice, the salt and the vanilla bean seeds.

Whisk mixture until very smooth.

Gently pour over the angel cake.

Before the glaze dries, decorate by sprinkling the poppy seeds over the glazed cake.

282. The Fifth Moonly Letter

The Leafies speak: "We are so into Heather and Beaurenard's story that we couldn't wait to know what would happen. We went to Predictit Pond,saw the future, and read the letter Heather will be writing Arley next May. We are publishing this letter here for you to read too. We'll tell you about Predictit Pond another day."

282. The Fifth Moonly Letter, written by Heather to her brother Arley under the inviting rosy moon, in which is revealed what became of the selfish Unchangedling and his irresistible brother.

Dear Arley,

It is easy to forget time here. As days go by, i t becomes harder and harder for me to leave in the mornings and all I can think about is returning at night. And I am drowsy by day and at last Thistle, though much concerned with her own business, noticed this.

She found her way to the spa one day, silently following me in the company of Quentin Treadfaster.

“What is the meaning of this?” she shouted at Beaurenard when she saw it was he I was meeting with.

“It’s exactly what it looks like, I think. It is, isn’t it, Heather?” he said, turning to me. “But whatever you say goes.”

“Are you as messed up as you’re said to be?” Thissy again shouted at Beau. “Because if you are, you’re not to mess with my sister.”

“I haven’t poisoned anyone, if that is what you think of me. Ask AEternus. Your grandfather knows I haven’t. He’s just pretending he’s pleased I have to tease the Demon Bride. He does dislike Alpin. And so do I. Much. That much is true.”

“Why are you hiding here then?”

“Everyone persecutes Beau,” I intervened. “He’s here to find some peace, to flee from those that chase him.”

“The only people I’ve seen him flee from are women at parties,” said Thistle. “Heathie, he’s known to have been in fourteen different places at the same time. What if he is with fourteen different girls right now?”

“Noooo!” protested Beau. “The very idea! I'm not like that! You yourself have said you´ve seen me fleeing from the girls. If I flee from them, I’m not with them, am I?”

“Maybe fleeing makes you more interesting to chase,” said Thistle, narrowing her eyes. “Love may be a form of madness, but why have you brought my sister here? You and your brother admittedly fed Alpin chocolate. What became of him after eating it?”

“I’ve never admitted anything of the kind. We tried… that is, Radley tried… to stop him from eating it. We did not feed Alpin anything. He’s a free agent, isn’t he?”

“You knew the more you would tell him not to, the more he would do it.”

Beau told Thistle his story in detail, and how he was hiding from the Demon Bride because she was blaming him for something he hadn’t done.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to be rid of Alpin,” said Thistle. “But don’t involve my sister in your problems. She comes and goes from this spa. And if the Demon Bride associates her with you, it will be Heathie who will be intercepted and pay the fiddler for this mess of yours. Aislene’s already sore at her for not having returned Alpn’s interest in her.”

“I would never allow anyone to harm Heather!” cried Beau.

“Aislene won’t hurt me,” I said.  “She didn’t want me for Alpin either, not any more than she did Betabel, and she wouldn’t hurt me. Because of Arley. She thinks so well of him. And because of Mum, who let her keep Alpin when he was a baby.”

“In any case,” said Thistle, “you needn’t come and go anymore, Heather. I already know you are here. You needn’t pretend you aren’t any longer. Quentin and I will be leaving now. But I have my eye on you, Flynn! You remember that! And feel free to feel  persecuted if you want to, because you will be, if anything bad happens to my sister. Where are you, Quentin? We´re leaving!”

Quentin was a little ways off. He had been studying what he could see of the spa.

“I kind of like this place,” he said timidly. “Couldn’t we stay for a while?”

“We’ll be back when I’m in a better mood,” said Thistle, and she led him off by the arm muttering, “I have to digest this first.”

And then, a few days later, we had a second visitor.

This was Betabel, who, unlike the Demon Bride, was not afraid to venture into the Spa of Light.

“I did not poison your husband,” said Beau, the second he laid eyes on her.

“I know that. And neither did your brother Radley. I don’t care if he exists or not. I know you have influence over the pookah. I’ve never been introduced to him myself. And I am scared to be. Will you speak to him for me and ask him to return Alpin to me? It’s been more than a month he’s been gone.”

“Are you sure you want him back?” said Beau. “You’re better off without him. You should be aware of that by now.”

Before I could ask Beau not to say such things, Betabel said, “You didn’t want him to steal your girlfriend. I understand that. I respect you for it.But  I don’t want the pookah to steal my husband. You ought to understand this too.”

That worked for Betabel. Well, sort of. Beau said he would speak to the pookah, and Betabel was to return the next day to see how the conversation had gone.

“When are you going to speak with Garth?” I asked Beau after Betabel had left.

“I don’t need to. I already have his answer.”

“Well, why are you making her wait for it?”

“I don’t know,” said Beau. “Just to hear Alpin named makes me feel unreasonable. If you don’t want her to take the trouble of returning, I can go give it to her now.”

“If you think it is best,” I said.

And Beau vanished.

When he returned, he told me he had spoken to Betabel and she had been very reasonable.

“I told her Garth agreed to return one of Aislene’s two sons. And since it would be cruel of him to make Aislene decide which, he would decide for her. He has returned  Darcy,  who has promised not to do anything against anyone because of all this fuss.”

It came as a surprise to me that Garth had been able to control No no Darcy. I could only think Darcy really didn’t want to help his brother. But I decided not to delve into that. After all, it was Betabel I was feeling concerned for.

“Betabel has accepted this arrangement?”

“Yes, indeed. Well, no. Not exactly. You see, I had to tell her that Garth had turned Alpin into an oyster. A large one. You need two hands to carry him.”

“And?”

“When Betabel heard this, she was quiet for a second. Then she asked meekly if she could see the oyster. Garth has nothing against Betabel. So I took her to see him. And the oyster  was in an aquarium Garth has.”

“Garth has an aquarium?” this surprised me.

Beau nodded.

“In his home.”

“The same home where he has the small, evil  orchard? Pomsylvania?”

Beau nodded again.

“But inside his house. We thought it would be safer there than keeping Alpin in the water under the bridge. ”

“What does Garth have in the aquarium?”

“Just the oyster. It´s a rectangular glass box, full of salt water. It’s empty now.”

“Empty?”

“Betabel asked if she could have the oyster, to keep just like Alpin’s mum kept him when he was an apple.”

“And?”

“I persuaded Garth to let her have him, the oyster, that is.  She had to promise she would not try to change him back. Only Garth would be able to do that. If ever. You see, it was the third time Garth had to  jinx Alpin. No one else has ever gotten  even three chances to foil Garth. He feeds recidivists to his pigs. Alpin, of course, isn’t mortal. But being chewed on by a pig…that can’t be something you want to have happen to you. And Alpin could be made mortal. He could  get kicked out of fayland, into the mortal world.”

“And?”

“Betabel left, carrying the huge oyster with both her little red and calloused hands.”

“That sounds pitiful. Aren’t you sorry for her?” I cried.

“I was about to feel bad, but then I noticed she was smiling,” said Beau.

It took some doing, but I finally got Beau to tell me what had happened to Betabel and the oyster.

“I suggested she make use of my all expenses paid vacation to Easter Island. I said she deserved a holiday and the oyster might like the water there.”

“Wasn’t Radley making use of that?”

“No. I had to bring him back. I couldn’t concentrate on making him be there while all of me was here with all of  you.”

I wanted to know more. I wanted to know how Betabel was doing at Easter Island. So a week later I again sent Beau to check on her. She’s doing fine, Arley. She liked the island so much she decided to move there. Beau helped her transport Alpin’s ideal home – that huge monsastery-like palace the Earl and Ludovica created for him – all the way to the fairy zone of this island. And you know what? She has turned that into a hotel. And Beau says it will be a success, because word got round and  it was all booked even before she had formally opened it.

And…you know what else? I don’t know if I can believe this of Betabel, but Beau says she sticks pebbles and tiny pieces of wood into the oyster, and these prick and molest it, and it turns them into pearls to protect itself. Big ones. And she is making for herself the finest fairy pearl necklace  in any world.  And she says that once she considers it is done, she will sell spare pearls in the lobby of her hotel. And Beau says this scared him, and he  hopes I will never do anything like that to him. So I’ve warned him he had better behave.

I was kidding when I said that, but Beau seems to have taken this seriously. He seems to be a mite worried. 

Heather sends you her love, the cheesecake she promised in her fourth letter and a recipe for rose jam, with which the cake is all covered. Love from Thissy too, and regards from Little Mauel and Purpurina.

 Heather.

Syrupy Wild Rose Jam

You will need:

About two ounces which is more or less  two cups of safe wild rose petals, all shaped like hearts. Pick them carefully, making sure they are very clean and not inhabitted by bugs.

One and a half cups filled with spring water.

Two cups of cane sugar, preferably organic.

Three tablespoons of fresh lemon juice.

One teaspoon of pectin, perhaps a little more if you want thicker consistency.

In a medium pot, simmer the rose petals in the water for ten minutes. The petals might fade at first, but don’t worry, the colour will return.

Add part of the sugar and the lemon juice stirring carefully. The lemon juice should make the petals recover their colour.

Mix the pectin and the rest of the sugar and add to the pot stirring carefully. The more pectin, the thicker the mixture will get.  

Allow all this to simmer for twenty minutes. Do not overcook. Petals should be whole and soft  and not floating  in liquid.

Pour into bowls or jars and refrigerate.

Once cool, you can pour the resulting jam, which should have hardened a little, over ice cream, yoghourt  or cakes. Pour very softly over cheesecakes, so there won’t be dents in them. You can add berries and fresh rose petals to the jam as decorations.

281. The Fourth Moonly Letter

281. The Fourth Moonly Letter from Heather to her brother Arley, written during the bittersweet lilac moon and which deals with daring, jealousy and covert revenge served hot.

Hello, dearest brother,

I seem to be alone again. And I am about to drop by the local madhouse, to visit poor Beaurenard.

I first noticed he was missing at dinner last night. The wooden men appeared, with their long noses and their fancy tableware and expensive food, but there was no one there to eat the green grapes.

I asked them where Beaurenard might be. They huddled together amd stared at me, but they are not programmed to answer that. So I ate alone. Very little, because I was too worried to be thinking of food.

And this morning, sharp and punctual and on the round dot, Little Mauel came to my house to claim his promised monthly birthday cake. I had prepared for him a seven layer chocolate cake with cocoa icing and had decorated it  with fragrant lilac floret sugar. Lilacs are all edible, for they belong to the olive family. The difficult part when using them in the kitchen is to capture their delicate scent before it fleets away.  

Anyway, Little Mauel came in the company of Grandma Divina’s first cat, Purpurina. You know how this lovely fairy rainbow-coloured cat glitters and always leaves a trail of sparkling fairy dust behind her. The dust causes no problems because it vanishes two minutes after having touched ground. Purpurina nudged Mauel with her nose and purred “Tell her!” very softly. But Mauel was being contrary and paid no attention to her. When this had been going on for a while, always only before me, and avoiding Thistle and Quentin’s attention, I finally drew Purpurina aside and asked her in whispers what she was so concerned about.

“Tell me yourself,” I encouraged her.

“Haven’t you missed bonny Beaurenard?” she said. “Tawny Leonado of the Fox clan?”

“Why, yes! Where is he?”

Showing a lot of reluctance, she purred even lower.

“He’s been put in the booby hatch.”

“The what?” I asked.

“The bug house.”

Seeing my uncomprehending face, Purpurina added, “Bedlam. Mayhem. The snake pit. The laughing academy. If you don’t come out laughing, they don’t let you out.”

When I heard the word laughing, I remembered it was the first of April.

“He’s involved in some April Fool’s Day joke?”

“No. This is serious.”

“Bah!” scoffed Little Mauel, who was pretending not to listen but was.

“His brother Radley has poisoned Alpin.”

Now I understood even less.

“Why? Why would he do that?”

“For daring to ask you how to make cocoa icing.”

Unable to understand what Purpurina was telling me, I decided to go to the core of the question and speak with Beaurenard himself.

“Where is that madhouse?” I asked.

Now, there are carzy people all over Fayland, in fact, eccentric, to say the least, is a national fay trait or attribute. I don’t know anyone who isn’t at least mildly peculiar. But we all roam freely.

“There are no madhouses in Apple Island,” said Thistle, who had come up to us frowning. “What are you murmurring about?”

“I have a friend who seems to be in some kind of trouble. But don’t concern yourself with this, Thissy. Surely it isn’t more than a tempest in a teapot.”

“I repeat: there are no madhouses here in the island. Not  even outside, in the between worlds. So your friend must be in the mortal world if he is in one. Who are we talking about?”

“He’s at the Spa of Light,” growled Little Mauel. He grimaced at Purpurina to show he couldn’t understand how people could get information so wrong.

And the Spa of Light is a beautiful place, where, yes, it is true, that people who come to the island from the crushing outer worlds feeling distubred sometimes stop for a time to find inner peace again. But it is, as all else here, a spot of pleasure and a delight.

“You mean he’s resting at the local spa?”

“Who is resting where?” muttered Thistle crossly. “What have I been missing? Will you tell me what you are keeping from me?”

“Please tell her,” said Quentin, sticking his head and his voice into our circle.  

And I saw I would have two problems. One, about finding Beau. The other, keeping Thistle from finding out about him.

“A person I know has a brother who has fallen out with Alpin because of our  cocoa icing and there must have followed some kind of a row. This must have affected the person I know enough to have him seek solace and repose at the spa. It’s not a matter of great importance. You and Quentin were going rafting, weren’t you? Well, go ahead. I can handle this affair myself. It’s no big thing. Just a courtesy visit I will be doing.”

“To whom?” insisted Thistle suspiciously.

“To a hare fairy who is a childhood friend of Arley’s. Carry on as planned, Thissy. Do.”   

Fortunately, Quentin managed to persuade Thissy to do just that. Though she didn’t look too willing, they both departed. And now I will too. I need to see how Beau is. If I find him and learn more, I’ll continue this letter later.

It’s later.  So hi again. I have found Beau. It turned out he has never left my side, though he was also at the spa of light all this while.

The road to the Spa of Light is one of the most beautiful roads in Apple Island.  Though longish and thickly misty, flanked on both sides by murmuring pines and hemlock trees and hemlock bushes, night or day, there is always a light hovering around one, on one, and then on the spot where one must next step. Paying no heed to the murmurs of the pines, so they would not distract me, I gave a step forward entering the light on the spot before me that awaited my foot and then chasing the light to the next. And thus, with more and more light on the road as I stepped ahead, I finally got to the radiant spa. Its  pearly gates were, as I had heard they always are, wide open. Its windows and doors too, and light poured in and out of them like water. And the minute I stepped into the garden, Beaurenard appeared, whispering, “Hush! Hush and away from the pines!” And he led me to a sheltered place, a bower formed by rose trees, all in bloom and beneath them said, “I’ve never left your side. But I couldn’t show myself.”       

“Why?” I asked. “What has happened?”

“The ex demon wife has happened. Bride that is, bride. She thinks I poisoned her son with Easter eggs because I am crazy and she asked your grandfather to lock me up in an insane asylum. And your grandfather cried, “At last! Someone who knows just who to poison! No ramdom thing, this! We always have poisonings in the spring here. I have no idea why, but it's not because love is a fatal poison, or is it? Well done, boy! You've made me happy and I want to make you happy too!” So he gifted me with an all expenses paid vaccation in Easter Island, but asked me to lie low for a while. Lower, really, because I always do lie low. I’m rather low key, aren’t I?”

“And you didn’t say your brother did the poisoning to spare him blame?”

“There’s something about my brother that perhaps you should know,” Beau said, suddenly looking worried. “Don’t hold this against me, Heather. Surprises are a constant in my life. A part of my way of being. And a  gift from your grandfather this is, for he is my godfather. And I only use my gifts to do good. Please remember that.”

“A gift?”

“How shall I put this? My brother Radley is really my invisible brother.”

“But I’ve actually seen him. So he’s at least not always invisible.”

“You know how some children have invisible friends?”

“That’s because they really do, beings like us. Mortals say it’s because they have no one to play with and make up a friend, don’t they?”

“That’s exactly how Radley came to be. When we were little I saw your brother scampering with three hares in a meadow. The three hares in a meadow that now appear embroidered on his flag and painted on his shield. They were playing catch. It looked like fun and I wanted to join them, but the very sight of me would have scared the hares off, so I turned into a hare myself, and that is how my brother Radley was born. Brother Radley, the hare fairy.”

“You’re a shape-shifter. There’s nothing strange about that. I can turn into a sparrow or a swan myself. But there were two of you when I saw Radley. So it’s not exactly that.”

“Right. But I’m more than a shape-shifter. Your grandfather gave me a gift of ubiquity at my name day party. I can be in more than one place at a time. Ah, a  very grand party I can boast of having  had! Which is why I can modestly say I am very gifted.”

“Well that…that is…amazing. I suppose. But why did Radley poison Alpin?”

“He didn’t. That’s an established fact. I didn’t either. Radley only tempted Alpin to eat…something he shouldn’t have. We didn’t even really do that. I’m sounding like I am blaming myself for something that isn’t my fault. I’m far too scrupulous. Or it wouldn’t look like I did something wrong. You know how Alpin once ate berries that turned him into a nice young garbage-eater? And then he had a second helping and he became a quirky, one-eyed apple? And all that was because he had offended the fierce pookah Garth?”

I nodded.

“Well, Alpin was strolling through Minced Forest and he was probably looking for trouble because he was about to cross the pookah’s bridge when he ran into me, that is, into my brother Radley, who was sitting under a tree staring fixedly at something. `What are you looking at?´ the Unchangedling demanded of  my brother. `No, nothing!’ said my brother very quickly. And Alpin looked where my brother had been looking and that was under the Pookah’s bridge, and there was this huge basket of chocolate Easter eggs and chicks and bunnies and other cute spring symbol figures the Pookah was going to hide in the forest for the children who live or play there to find.

Why would the pookah do that? You see, ever since your Uncle Gen discovered Pomsylvania, some of us have been persuading Garth to improve his image. Now, we know Alpin loves chocolate, don’t we?”

“Oh, Beaurenard!” I sighed. “How could you?”

“You see? You, too, are blaming me for something I haven’t done. `Out of my way, thieving hare! I’m going to confiscate that basket before you decide to steal it, hesitator!´ he shouted at me.

I actually told him not to touch the basket, and even fought him for it, not too violently, perhaps, because I am not violent by nature and never by choice. Only necessity. I did finally pull the basket away from him, though. Unfortunately, there was only one little chocolate pony left in it when I finally got hold of it. Alpin had eaten  even the wrapping of those sweets that were wrapped in colourful tinfoil. Quickly, very quickly. In a flash.”

“Oh, Beau! What happened next?”

“I can’t tell you. Or anyone. I would be squealing on the pookah. And that is the last thing I want to do. But before anything did happen, Alpin and I had a few unfriendly words, I saying, ‘Shame on you! A married man stealing sweets from babies!´  `You lousy, macilent and hesitant hare, as if you weren’t about to do the same!´ he responded, `I’d tell you what I think of you, loafing procrastinator,  if I had time, though it’s not worth the trouble.’  

He knew he had to get away before the pookah found him out. And I would bet he hoped Grim Garth  would think I was to blame for the disappearance of the chocolate figures. So one might think he may have disappeared because he wanted to. The only clear fact is that Alpin disappeared from sight.

His wife came looking for him shortly afterwards,  but I made myself and the basket and the milk chocolate pony invisible. Next, his  mother came looking for him and joined his wife, who had called for help from Alpin’s family. Aislene and Betabel shouted and shouted his name. Ah, how that demon woman can screech!  But Alpin didn’t show. Finally his brother showed up, moving slowly, silently, as spookily as is his manner, and I made the basket visible. And you know what? The Dark Man must have a sweet tooth too, because he ate the chocolate pony. Slowly, savoring it, looking pensive… You know how he likes horses and such, so I guess he couldn’t resist the pony.”

“That could be. And then?”

“He looked around him. But before he could ask whoever might be lurking about to show themselves, which we would have had to do, for he can’t be said no to,  why, No no Darcy vanished.”

“Into thin air too?”

“That is all I can say,” finished  Beau, shaking his head and biting his lips after he said this.

I suppose you, Arley, being where you are, know what really happened by the bridge. The little rest of what I know is that someone told Mrs. Dullahan they had seen Alpin tugging with a hare fairy at a basket. Miss Aislene was able to identify Radley, and went to complain about him to Grandpa.

As you know, Grandpa hates to be disturbed. Grandpa tried to dispatch her saying Radley was an imaginary fairy and couldn’t be held to account for what he supposedly did, being unimpeachable because he was inexistent. Mrs. Dullahan said that if Radley was unreal, Beauregard had to be crazy, because only weirdos have imaginary brothers and such. She insisted Grandpa lock him up in an insane asylum until the psychiatrists made him talk and confess what he had done to Alpin.

That was when Grandpa said what he would do was send Beau on an all expenses paid luxury trip to Easter Island. He wanted to give him more than the medal he deserved. Grandpa always hates having trouble, but more so at Easter. It reminds him of the Botolph years, trouble too long ans still too recent. So he shooed Mrs. Dullahan from his clubhouse. She was unable to seduce him, because she was so angry that she looked more like a harpy than an ideal bride. You know how the harpies have pretty faces but bark at you like ferocious hounds.

As the woman left, red-faced and spitting snakes and toads,  AEternus shouted after her, ‘If you find Alpin, tell him not to return to the fay world till after the Easter holidays!”

Mrs. Dullahan was and is outraged. And she still doesn’t know not only Alpin is missing. She thinks Darcy has hidden himself so as not to have to listen to her nag him about searching for his brother.”

I asked Beau why he hadn’t left for Easter Island, what with the mortal expenses paid and all. He said he had come to the spa because he knew Mrs. Dullahan would hear he was there but would never go anywhere near it. He said Radley was at Easter Island, checking it out and if he liked and recommended the place, why not drop by that island ourselves when the coast was clearer?

And then someone came searching for Beau to tell him that Garth the pookah had come to the spa to see him. I thought he had come to accuse Beau of having a finger in this mess, but it turned out Beau had called him. Beau received him and gave him a replacement basket cramped with chocolate Easter eggs and figures, because he didn’t want the forest kids to go without candy because of Alpin.

“You think I haven’t already seen to that, Leonado?” said the Pookah, slightly offended.

“Ah, I thought you would. I know you will give them enough candy to last all spring, but my…friend, Heather here, is going to be godmother of one or another of the cat babies. The Atshebies. I thought she might want to give them some candy too. Better late than never.”

“If they ever get to have a Name Day Party,” growled Garth.

“When I leave this place, I will see what can be done about that,” said Beau.

Meanwhile… Have you ever been to the Spa of Light, Arley? This is a truly beautiful place, even for Apple Island. It doesn’t surprise me that it is hard for visitors to leave. I promised Beau we would have dinner together every night at the Spa since it wouldn’t be prudent for him to show himself at my home just now. When I promised Beau I would, he smiled most pleased and said, "Those who come here should wear flowers in their hair!" And there was this crown of roses he had been weaving with his own hands as he spoke to me and the pookah, and he placed it on my head and... 

Dear Arley, this is important: if you can,  please let me know  whether I should be concerned for Alpin and Darcy or not. I am sure you know what has happened to them. Beau says I have no cause to worry about Alpin. But I am worried, and would rather not be. But if I have to be, I will be. 

I am enclosing a recipe for Lilac Sugar for Aunt Dacia. I will be making a cheesecake for Little Mauel’s next birthday next month and I will make a second cake and send it to you too. I know you love cheese cakes.

Lilac Sugar Recipe

Wash your hands.

Prepare one cup white granulated sugar.

Prepare a small preserves jar.

Pick enough lilac flowers  to fill 1/3 cup making sure you have removed stems and leaves and that you have separated them from the cluster. Be gentle, don’t break any.

Do not wash or wet the flowers, for they could lose their aroma and would soggy the sugar,  but do wash your hands again, for they are likely to be sticky from removing stems and such.

Place a few spoonfuls from this one cup of sugar in the bottom of a preserves jar.

Place a heap of lilac flowers on top of the spoonfuls of sugar already in the jar.

Repeat, making more layers. The top layer must be of sugar. Leave about an inch of space over that top layer so you can later shake the contents.

Cover the  jar with its lid and shake the contents.

Shake the contents of the jar once a day every day for a week. This should avoid clumps.

If all goes well, after about seven days the flowers will be preserved and candied and the fragrance of the lilacs should be preserved too.

You can remove the flowers from the jar and use them to decorate cakes and biscuits, or you can leave them in the sugar and add spoonfuls to tea and other drinks. 

280. The Third Moonly Letter

Heather’s third letter to Arley, written during the Youth Green Moon, in which a new way to have dinner, albeit in the ancien régime style, is described and interrupted by two visitors.

Dear brother,

Not much has been happening here. It hasn’t even began to defrost. I still have company. And now have dinner with silver candelabra. You see, when I told the fox fairy he could stay, I didn’t just let him hang around. I fed him too. A bit of dinner the first night, and then a midnight snack, and in the morning my modest breakfast and at noon lunch and when I offered him afternoon tea, he insisted he would take care of dinner.

So when the clock struck eight, four wooden automatons in garnate and gold livery appeared in my dainty dining room and two laid a tablecloth of the finest lace, as fine as that around Beaurenard’s throat, and put some wild violets I had gathered in a silver and green onyx  bowl they brought with them and produced blindingly shiny silver dishes and cutlery and two four-stick each candelabra. One wooden man produced food out of a magic hamper, a fancy pumpkin soup and then a tray of  faux seafood and next a whole faux turkey, much stuffed with nuts and dry fruit.

The fox ate a little of all that, as if none of it mattered. I must say I have never seen anyone peel and handle seafood more neatly than Beaurenard. Mine was prepared for me by one of the wooden servants, for we each have one of these standing next to our seats, serving us very attentively throughout dinner. While the third watched, ready to produce dessert, the fourth wooden man played the violin. Frankly, it makes me a little nervous to eat with a side show, even of soft music. It even did back at Mum and Dad’s palace during formal dinners. But that is how I eat every night now, since Beau always does the dinners. And I have to dress for dinner, because it wouldn’t look right otherwise. And I am thinking of refurnishing and ordering a finer dining table and chairs, because my sweet little country-style set is rather humble for all this magnificence.

Though at least three desserts are served every night, the fox always has green grapes. I tried one, and I can’t see how he can actually eat them, they are so unripe. I had to ask him why he eats them.

“Don’t those upset your stomach? They are too green to eat. Do you need to prove you can?”

The fox fairy laughed.

“I’m not the kind that needs to prove anything. I know how to accept defeat,” he said. “I just want to remind myself that even victory can be sour…or bitter.”

We’ve had two visitors who have shown up during these dinners. Guess who one was? None other than Betabel, come to ask me for the recipe for the chocolate icing I glaced a chocolate cake Alpin once devoured with. She would not sit and dine with us, showing herself to be so shy I don’t know how she could make herself come to us, but I got up and made a copy of the recipe for her. She scampered off the minute I gave it to her, murmuring thank yous, and would not let Beau or his automatons see her home.

The other visitor was Radley, the Flynn brother you are supposed to be acquainted with. This one did sit with us and have some dinner. To my surprise, Radley is a hare fairy. I suppose that if the Flynns, who are supposed to be all fox fairies, can have a hare fairy living peacefully among them, that indeed is a good reference, just as Beaurenard thought it might be. But then, as if he knew what I was thinking, Beau said that Brother Radley was the shrewdest member of his family.  

Well, that has yet to be proved.

´Bye for now, dearest Arley, says Heather. 

P.S. I attach the recipe for the cocoa icing. Camelia once asked me for it too. Please see to it she receives it.

Cocoa Icing

Two and one half cups confectioner’s sugar.

One half cup cocoa.

One half cup soft butter.

Three or four tablespoons of milk, depending on how the blending goes.

Sift the sugar,  then sift again, this time with the cocoa. Add the butter and then the milk and stir away until properly blended.

Enjoy, with chocolate cake or  just by the sinful spoonful.