FAIRY FROGMOTHER by Charlotte Henley Babb page 2/6
A soggy Maven landed on the desk of Fiona, Fairy Godmother Superior,
who was scribbling arcane notes in her ledger. Fiona's silver hair was
tarnished; her wings trailed dusty cobwebs. Maven sympathized. How did Fiona manage to deal with magic disasters through the centuries?
Fiona glanced up, glaring at the interruption without appointment. Her
eyes met Maven's. Her mouth began to twitch: she snickered, and then she laughed until dust and cobwebs went flying.
"You have a taste of your own favorite spell," she said, wiping her
tears. "How many people have you turned into frogs this cycle?"
Maven dripped silently. Fiona pulled her crystal ball from the desk drawer and called up Maven's files. She giggled, the cackle of a crone with the snigger of a teenage girl who had finally gotten the best of a rival. "This prince appears to wear a ward stone from the head of a frog. Your spell interacted with that one, and it was enforced by a covering counter spell. Someone wants him well protected. I don't suppose you know who he is or what he was...?"
"All I can remember is nearly being trampled."
"You wished him there. I have discussed your habit of speaking aloud before. Now do you see what kinds of difficulty it can cause, even if you do not intend to grant yourself a wish. Do you see why it is not done?"
Sometimes the only correct answer is "Yes, Ma'am"
Fiona ran the scenario again, magnified, in slow motion. "I'd say this is the son of Tarryn, a fairy godmother who crowned herself queen of a
forest on the lower east side of Faery. He looks to be the right age. You
have run afoul of your predecessor. She disappeared when the Castle of Neauwae was destroyed."
Maven was glad to hear that at least one disaster was not blamed on her. "Only Tarryn can undo this spell. Her magic is as strong as yours—and just as unconventional. I hope your gift for blarney will help you there."
Fiona consulted her ledger. "You are slated for counseling on Fairy Godmother burnout next cycle. Perhaps you can find Tarryn and ask her to accompany you."
"Oh yes!" Maven simpered. "I'll just hop into her keep and say, `How 'bout a makeover for me, your Highness, then we'll just meander on home for a little head shrinking after.' I'm sure she'll be all for it." Maven sighed. She missed having eyebrows to glare under.
"Think for a moment," said Fiona, "You might start with the prince and find out why he's running. In the meantime, you can grant any wishes which originate in Frogdom."
"I can't grant wishes like this! I can barely lift my wand."
"You are not ill nor without magic. And you ARE on the payroll. Do your best. I shall keep an eye on you."
Before Maven could answer, Fiona poofed her back to the creek.
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