Masquerades of fairies. Natalie Yacobson

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      «This way is it! Hurry up!» Whispers came from the window that opened. «Let’s give the marquis a lot of inconvenience for not fulfilling the terms of the deal!»

      Four beautiful star fairies flew in through the window. One of them had a golden crescent moon ornament glittering under her braid, while the others wore veils and dresses of starry sky colors. Flora held her breath. She had never seen star fairies before, not even at a masquerade.

      It turned out that the star fairies were not the only ones in the castle. There were plenty of forest and field fairies, too. They flew, hitting the wings of chandeliers, hopped on the furniture, hid on top of cabinets, hung from the ceiling. One meadow fairy even tried to get into Flora’s niche, but noticed that it was already occupied and changed her mind.

      Wow! The fairies came to the castle at night. They flew in. They flew into the windows as if they were doors. With wings, it’s easy to get into any castle. You don’t even have to break down the doors. Just fly in! No problem! Too bad she doesn’t have wings.

      «I have wings! I can lend you some. Or carry you,» said an elf who had flown in after the fairies, eagerly responding to her thoughts.

      He wanted to hug her, but Flora recoiled.

      «Well, as you wish,» the elf flew away resentfully, and Flora was left alone. That was even better! She already knew that no elf could protect her from the fairies. What if they attacked her again? They don’t care that this castle belongs to her, not them. Fairies make themselves at home everywhere. Did they really come here looking for their prey? Flora eluded them last time, but this time there’s nowhere to go.

      «I won’t let the fairies drive me out of my own castle!» Flora boldly climbed out of hiding as the fairies were already circling the supper table and the cooks scattered fearfully.

      «Look!» One of the fairies pointed with her hand to the portrait of the Marquise Archibalda. «That’s her! I’d love to transfer her soul into that portrait so she won’t bother us anymore.»

      «And how would you do that?» The river fairies, whose clothes and wings resembled flowing water, asked.

      «I don’t know yet!» The spruce fairy thought for a moment. Green needles were growing on the skin of her hands, making her look like a hedgehog. «There must be some way to reason with her.»

      «You’d better accept that she’ll never get back the ones she took away,» said the flower fairies. They dropped fragrant flowers on the floor, but their claws glittered dangerously.

      Flora was wary. What did the fairies mean? They knew something about her mother that she didn’t know herself.

      «Let’s punish the Marquis!» The pretty snowdrop fairy suggested. «It’s about time! Let’s all fly to his office!»

      «It is not yet,» The rye fairy with a wreath of ears in her hair listened warily. «The castle master is expecting guests.»

      «They won’t protect him,» squeaked the mushroom fairies, from whose presence the sofas in the corridor began to be covered with mold.

      Flora stared in amazement at the wreaths of mushrooms. How had the fairies managed to weave them?

      In the wreath of roses she looked like a fairy herself, so for now she was not touched.

      «There will be one special guest,» said the rye fairy.

      Flora’s heart began to race. Would Edwin really be coming? She couldn’t bear to see him again.

      The portrait of her mother suddenly winked at Flora. Had she imagined it? Flora pinched herself. The fairies were definitely not her imagination. They danced in a round dance over the table until one of the fairies smelled something.

      «It’s for the master!» She shrieked, taking a bite out of the roast pheasant. «He’ll be here tonight!

      «So he will deal with the Marquis, not us!» All the fairies decided at once. In a moment they were all gone. Flora had time to see only a motley flock flying out of all the windows of the castle.

      The fireplace fairy

      «Are you the fairy of witch roses?» A voice called out to Flora from the fireplace.

      It turned out that there was an ash fairy hovering above the fireplace screen. She was grayish-black. Ashes were falling from her wings.

      «I smell a dragon!» She whispered. «I’m not afraid of the dragon, but you all might be.»

      «I’m not afraid of the dragon,» Flora said with bravado. «I invited the dragon and his master to dinner tonight.»

      «You are reckless!» The ash fairy laughed. She had a dry coughing laugh and ash was falling from her mouth. «Stop it! The dragon has no master! You’re a liar!»

      The ashy hand reached for Flora. Flora recoiled.

      «Do you want me to give you my wreath on the condition that you fly away?» Flora bargained with the fairy.

      «Give me the wreath, even though it’s too big for me,» the ash fairy came out of the chimney and turned out to be the size of a cat. «But I’ll stay here until dinner is over. I want to be close to the dragon.»

      «It is because he can’t burn you?» Flora teased her.

      The fairy chuckled understandingly. Handfuls of ash sprinkled from her laughter. Flora covered her face with the fan she carried as jewelry. For once it came in handy! Usually the fan was useless because of the chilly weather that reigned around castle de Rione all year round.

      «Soon the dragon fire will warm up the neighborhood,» the fireplace fairy replied to Flora’s thoughts.

      Greedy gray hands grabbed the wreath and dragged it down the fireplace chimney. Flora still stood in front of the empty fireplace and wondered how fairies could read thoughts so cleverly. They barely have time to think about something, and they already know everything.

      A snide laugh came from the fireplace chimney, and a warning sounded from there as well:

      «The dragon is on its way!»

      «Thank you!» Flora nodded.

      «You should not thank for such news, but run away!» The ash fairy whispered.

      «Didn’t the dragon accidentally burn you?» Flora snickered.

      «I wouldn’t think so! I was born in ash. You can’t burn me!» The fairy replied smugly.

      «But what if he gets his way?»

      «You put him up to it!» The ash fairy crawled up the chimney. Surely the blue roses in her hands had long since turned gray. So be it! Flora didn’t need them anyway. Witch roses are nothing but trouble! Drusilla may think otherwise, but she’s not a witch to dabble in such things as a wreath that summons spirits.

      «I felt like I was in a nightmare, not a fairy masquerade. And that’s where all my misfortunes began!» Flora complained to herself.

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