Masquerades of fairies. Natalie Yacobson

witch must know everything. She could fly over the towers at night on her broom and overhear any secret conversation. Flora couldn’t resist asking:

      «Do you know where my mother has gone?»

      «You mean Flora’s mother?» Drusilla squinted suspiciously.

      It was necessary not to misspell things from now on. The witch was beginning to suspect her. It wouldn’t be far from trouble.

      «Let’s call everything and everyone by their official names,» Flora said.

      «You mean human?»

      «And in turn, we call the human ones the common ones. Do you understand the terms?»

      «You amaze me, madam!» Drusilla even whistled, and Blackie meowed and twisted her paw at her temple. «I don’t want you to take rules and terms for granted! Apparently, running away from the dragon, you lost respect for yourself.»

      «What do you mean?»

      «I’m sorry,» Drusilla was immediately startled and bounced behind a pillar of the garden gazebo. Only her pointy hat now peeked out. «I didn’t mean to be impertinent. I didn’t mean it!»

      Who did the witch think she was, to be so flattering to her? Flora was too shy to ask directly. She’d give herself away with questions. If she’s so powerful that witches are afraid of her, then she’s supposed to be all-knowing.

      «Would you pick me some blue roses?» Flora didn’t know where to send Drusilla. «I want to make a wreath of them.»

      «Do you want to summon the midnight spirits?» Drusilla wondered. «It’s not worth it; your skin will turn blue before you start weaving the wreath.»

      «I’ll take my chances anyway.»

      Drusilla didn’t like it, but she obediently went to the rosebush by the gate and had a long argument with the creepy creature living in the roots.

      «The roses should have been torn at midnight,» she protested. «But the mistress had lost her mind!»

      The blue roses were difficult to pluck, even for a witch. It wasn’t until the evening that Flora got a dozen blue roses and noticed that they really turned her fingers blue. It was better to throw them away, but Drusilla stood with a broom like a guard and waited for Flora to weave the promised wreath. To tame the witch’s suspicion, she had to weave it.

      A round dance of fairies

      Flora wove the wreath and hummed. The thorns hurt her fingers. The roses were predators. They wanted to dig into the skin until it bled. By the way, the blood that dripped on them immediately dissolved in the petals. Are they vampires?

      «Don’t sing, my lady!» Drusilla waved her broom toward the window, where it was getting dark. «Otherwise you’ll summon the dragon.»

      «I don’t think so!» Flora looked out the window. There was no golden glow in the dark sky. So the dragon has not flown yet.

      «The dragon loves your songs.»

      «You mean the songs of innocent girls? I heard that somewhere.»

      «No, it is yours exactly,» objected the witch.

      «But he’s never even heard me sing, unless he’s been listening, lurking under the windows like a mouse. That’s not typical dragon behavior!»

      «You drove him crazy and made him behave like a dragon!»

      «Why am I the bad one?»

      «Is that a bad thing?» Drusilla is wary. «What’s bad is that you’re singing now. It’s better not to sing! Otherwise we’ll be exposed.»

      «Anyone who enters this room will expose us,» Flora glanced at the living mask and the fire rose. Only a drunken Raphael could miss those two magical objects.

      The mask squeaked and shunned the fire rose. She had no objection to the witch with the broom.

      «I can’t do this!» Flora tried to tie the ends of the wreath with ribbon and couldn’t.

      «You have to tie the leaves in a knot,» Drusilla advised.

      «How is it?» Flora was surprised, but the leaves suddenly knotted themselves together. The wreath was complete. «It’s still not magical! I did something wrong!»

      Flora didn’t know how to chase the witch away from the sofa. Drusilla had her leg over her foot and was playing with her broom.

      «That’s right!» She determined, glancing at the wreath. «Now you must put it on your head and wrap it around your axis three times. Then the spirits will appear and surround you in a circle.»

      «And then?»

      «Then you can ask them anything you want.»

      Flora didn’t want to ask the spirits anything. She would gladly have thrown the wreath away and forgotten about it, but how to put the witch’s guard down? Drusilla watched her like a gendarme. How to chase the witch out of her bedroom? Send a letter with her to the town manager or even the king? Drusilla would just get on her broom and deliver the message.

      «I have an idea!» Flora wanted to throw the wreath into the fireplace. As she stood up from her chair, a dragon’s curious face poked through the window. Its golden hide glittered so brightly that it hurt her eyes. Flora shrieked.

      Apparently the dragon was expecting admiration, not panic, so it retreated resentfully. Now only the starry sky was visible through the window, but Drusilla was wary.

      «I told you not to sing! Look, you’ve attracted a dragon!»

      «It’s already gone.»

      «No, it hasn’t!» The witch shook her head.

      Flora looked out of the window. There was no sign of the dragon.

      Drusilla’s deft hands placed a wreath on Flora’s head.

      «This will protect you.»

      Flora felt the thorns prick her forehead. Good protection!

      «Guard my mask for now, while I take a walk around the castle,» Flora tried to get rid of the annoying witch.

      «Do you wish to summon spirits alone?» Drusilla grinned understandingly. «Good! I don’t have any witches’ sabbath on my schedule today that I need to fly to, so I’ll stay here.»

      How easy it was to fool the witch! Flora hurried out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. If the witch started visiting her every night, she would probably go mad.

      The castle hallway was quiet. No servants were seen on the way, but Flora had a mania for stalking. She thought she saw a dragon’s powerful paw following her, and a dragon’s tail dragging across the carpet.

      Couldn’t the dragon have gotten into the castle? At its size, it was unrealistic. Unless it can shrink at will.

      From behind, the clawing of dragon claws could be heard. Flora chickened out and turned around. There was no dragon in the corridor of the castle, of course, but here she was, like a naive fool, fulfilled the witch’s condition – made a turn around its axis. And the unfortunate wreath of blue roses was on her head. She had to take it off immediately, but the translucent figures had already separated from the walls and circled around Flora. One would have thought they were ghosts that emerged from the portraits of her ancestors, but looking at them, Flora didn’t recognize any familiar faces. They were really spirits of the night, not ghosts from portraits.

      «Beware!» They whispered. «If you go any further, your plan will fail! The dragon will expose you. You’re going straight to your past now. Better go back to your bedroom and sleep till morning. Then the danger will be over.»

      Why would the spirits warn her? Flora didn’t believe them. After all, spirits are notorious liars.

      She turned her back on them and walked away.