Lila Graceless

Emmaline Page

Editor: Rabekah Henderson

Cover: John Carroll

First Edition published June 1, 2025

Copyright © 2025 John Carroll

[EPUB] Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to others. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter 1

It certainly wasn’t every day that a giant mysterious beanstalk appeared in your backyard, and Lila Greene didn’t know what to make of it.

Rumors were flying through the town of Ashbrooke. It was a curse, some said, created as a sign of bad days to come. Others took a more positive view, saying that the beanstalk’s rapid growth was good and meant prosperity was on the horizon. Some of the older grandmothers and grandfathers claimed it was an echo from the old days when the fairies lived in Ashbrooke and played tricks on all the townsfolk. But nobody knew for sure.

All Lila knew was that one day, the beanstalk hadn’t been there, and the next day, it had. It had to be magic. There couldn’t be any other explanation. And though her parents had forbidden her from going to the base of the Idouver cliffs where the beanstalk had sprouted, Lila knew — just knew — that something big was going to happen, and soon.

But life went on, even after such an incredible event. And so it was that Lila found herself walking along the cobblestone road one day, keenly aware of the beanstalk looming behind her, and clutching the handle of a basket of wool tightly with both hands.

She hummed a tune to herself as she walked, but let it trail off as her mind drifted away. Mama had spun the wool in the basket, and it was beautifully smooth and white. Lila had often wanted to learn how to spin herself, but it was no use — she had never been able to learn. Either her hands weren’t steady, or she couldn’t concentrate hard enough on what she was doing. Mama had given up trying to teach her.

A note of anxiety pierced her, and she gripped the basket tighter. There were so many things that Mama had tried to teach her that she hadn’t been able to learn. Cooking, spinning, sewing — she’d failed at them all, even though she’d tried her best. She hadn’t even been able to get an apprenticeship like the other girls, as the apothecary Papa had asked about on her behalf had said she’d just break the bottles.

If only she could be like Mama — graceful, beautiful, and skilled. Maybe Lila would grow up to be like her mother, but maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d never be graceful no matter how hard she tried.

The warm sunlight on the back of her head and the blueness of the sky drew her out of her dismal thoughts. She raised her face to the sunshine and breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell of the fresh flower bushes that grew along the way. It had rained recently, but the sky now was as clear and cloudless as a summer day. The wind made her hair tickle her nose, and she brushed it away with a smile.

“Lila!” a girl’s voice shouted. Lila glanced down to see Melsie Enright, her friend, standing in the town square. “What are you doing?”

“Delivering wool to Mrs. Perkins!” Lila called back. She started walking again, quicker this time. Mama always told her not to dawdle.

“Well hurry up then, or we won’t have time to play!” Melsie’s hand rested on her hip, and she held her head high. She was always so confident. Some called her bossy, but Lila knew better.

“Okay!” Lila started running toward her friend. Suddenly, her foot caught on a loose cobblestone, and with a cry, she tumbled to the ground.

She landed hard, banging her knee on the stones. “Ow,” she mumbled.

Melsie walked over and tilted her head at Lila. “Why’d you fall down?”

Lila swallowed and pushed herself to her feet. “Well, I didn’t mean to.” Her palms stung, and she saw that they were scraped and red. She brushed the dirt off her skirt, then turned to pick up the basket. “Oh no, the wool!”

The wool had fallen out of the basket and onto the dirty street. Lila winced. It would be ruined by the mud. Mama would not be happy.

She picked it up. The mud had soaked through the white fibers and stained them an unpleasant brown color. Lila brushed it off as much as she could, but it didn’t do much — the only way to fix it was to wash it, and that was a pain.

It might work, though, Lila thought. Mrs. Perkins has to wash it before dying it anyway. It’ll be fine.

Melsie whistled. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t a question. And, like most of the things Melsie said, it had an air of finality to it, like no one sensible would possibly believe anything else.

Lila fidgeted as she watched Mrs. Perkins examine the wool. The light in the tailor’s store was dim, filtering through the window slits, but it was certainly bright enough to see the disapproval on the old woman’s face.

“Lila Greene,” she said, shaking her head. “What is this? Didn’t your mother work hard to make this, and in her condition, too, and now you give it to me covered in dirt?”

Lila shrank back. “It was an accident,” she said in a small voice. “I tripped.”

“You tripped.” Mrs. Perkins dropped the yarn back into the basket. “Well. I don’t see that as an excuse, but I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll have to wash this. Mind you, tell Gretchen what happened. I’ve half a mind to come down there and tell her myself, but I haven’t the time.”

Lila held her tongue and nodded. Anything to get out of the stuffy room. She felt like the walls were pressing in on her and stopping her from getting a breath of fresh air.

Mrs. Perkins pushed the basket aside and picked up her sewing again. This was the signal that she was done with Lila, so Lila walked out the door into the sunlight, holding her arms stiffly so that she didn’t bump into anything. She knew her parents were embarrassed by her. She knew it. She didn’t need to be reminded of it by every adult that saw her trip and fall.

Melsie ran up to her. “Did you get in trouble?” she asked breathlessly.

Lila’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, no. Not really, anyways.”

“Which means yes.” Melsie rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Mrs. Perkins is an old bat. Dad says she’d steal a golden goose as soon as she saw it if she thought she could sell it for a good price. Come on, let’s go play with Fini and Tavia.”

She skipped off, and Lila followed. She wasn’t sure whether she agreed with Melsie or not — she was sure that her parents wouldn’t want her talking the way Melsie did. But she knew Melsie wouldn’t like it if she said anything, so she kept quiet.

Fini, a short girl with brown hair, was jumping rope and singing to herself while Tavia, whose curly red hair seemed to be no more controllable than Lila’s limbs, watched. Melsie marched up. “Let’s jump doubles,” she said with no preamble.

Fini stopped jumping. “Okay,” she said. “Hey, Lila! How are you?”

Lila smiled at Fini, though inwardly she wanted to run away and hide. She was never quite sure what the girls thought of her. And the thought of jumping rope only made her nervousness worse — what if she tripped and fell flat on her face? What would they think then?

But Fini and Melsie were already holding the rope, and it was too late to back out now. Lila motioned for Tavia to go first, and the older girl did. She stepped over the rope and started to skip, and the girls started singing a song:

“Padri made the sun come out,

It withered all the food.

She made it rain and then they drowned,

How many did we lose?

One, two, three, four, five, six —”

Tavia tripped, and the song trailed off. She frowned and shoved her hair behind her shoulders. “Aw, I thought I had it that time!”

“That’s okay,” Melsie said indifferently, “you did well. Lila, your turn!”

Hesitantly, Lila stepped into the ropes. She didn’t look forward to messing everything up, but at least it would be over quickly.

The girls started singing again. With her brow furrowed with concentration, Lila jumped over the rope. Once, twice, three times — it was coming now, she was doing it, she wasn’t failing.

“She made it rain and then they drowned,

How many did we — ”

BOOM.

Someone screamed. Lila tripped on the rope and fell on her hands and knees. The ground had thumped, like a giant heartbeat below the surface — or like something had slammed into the ground from above.

She pushed herself up. “What was that?”

Melsie and Tavia were looking around wildly, but Fini pointed off in the distance with a shaking finger. Her face was pale. “The beanstalk! The beanstalk is gone!”

It was true. When Lila looked over at the cliffs, she saw that the huge twisting shape of the beanstalk no longer clung to the cliffs, but had disappeared. “How?” she breathed. More magic? Had the fairies taken the beanstalk back for some reason?

Many of the townsfolk had come out to see the source of the crash, and Lila began to laugh at the sight of everyone acting so curious, but then she caught sight of her father coming toward her.

He was running. He never ran.

She started toward him, but he caught up with her and took her hand. “We’re going home,” he said, then started running quickly across the square.

“Papa, what’s going on? Why —” Lila cut herself off in her confusion and raced to keep up with him. He wasn’t normally this afraid. Was there something she’d missed?

Papa didn’t answer for a moment. Finally, he said, “The beanstalk fell by our house. Your mother’s home.”

Lila’s eyes went wide. Oh.

Oh no.

Chapter 2

By the time they reached home, Lila had a stitch in her side and her feet were aching. Papa was practically running. Lila could tell he was worried — his grip on her hand was tight, and he didn’t speak a single word.

Lila gasped for breath as they ran. Papa was wrong, wasn’t he? He was just afraid for Mama. She didn’t need to feel this crippling fear that sent her mind spiraling into different possibilities, each more horrible than the next. They didn’t know the beanstalk had fallen anywhere near their house. Maybe it would all be fine.

She had almost convinced herself when they arrived home.

Their house was in shambles.

The beanstalk had fallen across the roof. Its green, twisty leaves draped across the ground like a rug, and the trunk had smashed the shingles that Papa had nailed in so carefully last summer. The walls had been destroyed. The front of the house had completely fallen over and now lay on the grass in splinters.

Lila let out a squeak of shock, and her hand flew up to cover her face. The scene before her made no sense and felt unreal — but it was horribly, horribly true.

Papa let go of Lila’s other hand. “Stay here,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Everything will be all right. I’m just going to go in and find your mother. Understand?” When she nodded, he turned and headed toward the house.

Lila couldn’t take her eyes off the wreckage. Mama was inside somewhere, maybe hurt or even killed. If she hadn’t sent Lila to town to deliver the wool, Lila might have been inside the house too. She could have died.

Papa stepped over the beanstalk and pushed some of the splintered boards aside. Some of the house was still standing, and he had soon disappeared into the wreckage. Lila sat down on the ground and rested her chin on her knees, then squeezed her eyes closed and tried to forget what was happening. Only ten minutes ago she’d been happily skipping rope — oh, what she’d give to be back there now.

After a few minutes, Lila heard footsteps approaching, accompanied by the sound of excited voices talking together. She opened her eyes and glanced over. Jack Spriggins, an older boy who lived nearby, was walking down the street with his mother. He was holding a big sack that looked extremely heavy, even though it was quite small.

Lila raised a hand and waved, feeling a sudden need for someone to see her. “Hello,” she called out, and her voice was thin and frightened.

Jack stopped walking. As he caught sight of her house, his jaw dropped. He stared for a moment with a stricken face, then swallowed. “Oh. Oops.”

Oops?

Lila didn’t have time to wonder what he meant, because, at that moment, Papa emerged from the wreckage with Mama leaning on him for support. Her face was pale, but she walked along with Papa and didn’t look injured. Lila let out a cry of relief and ran to her parents. Mama was safe! She was all right!

Papa cleared his throat. “And what are you doing here, Jack? Come to see the spectacle?”

Lila reached out and gripped Mama’s hand — partially to make sure she was truly all right, but partially for comfort.

Jack cleared his throat. “Uh. I think I should explain what happened to your house.”

Lila held her mother’s hand and listened to Jack tell the story. It was the strangest story she’d ever heard. A traveling merchant had given Jack some useless beans in exchange for a cow — even Lila knew that a cow was worth far more than five beans — but when Jack had planted them, they’d grown up into a huge beanstalk that had led Jack to a giant’s castle. Eventually, the giant followed Jack down the beanstalk, but his mother chopped it down, killing the giant.

“And, unfortunately, destroying your house,” Jack finished. “Sorry.”

Papa stared at Jack, face stony. “‘Sorry’? Do you think ‘Sorry’ will do anything?”

Jack swallowed. “No, sir. But I want you to know that I didn’t intend at all for this to happen. We were trying to avoid the giant coming and killing us and everyone in Ashbrooke. Surely you understand how important that was.”

“Of course.” Papa paused, taking deep, measured breaths, then waved a hand and turned away. “But save your apologies. We’ve work to do.”

“Wait!” Jack reached into his bag and pulled out a smooth lump of gold. He held it out to Papa. “Take this. It’s a golden egg, it came from the giant’s castle. That should help you pay for rebuilding.”

“A golden egg?” Papa said, turning on him. “That will help us rebuild? Stay and help us rebuild ourselves. Lend us your arms, not your money.” He walked away.

Jack was left holding out the golden egg with a surprised look on his face. He closed his mouth and withdrew his hand.

Mama sighed. “Give it to me,” she said. “And thank you. I’ll talk sense into him.”

Jack handed her the golden egg, relieved. “I really am sorry. I would help, but Mother and I are going to the capital to see the king.” He looked as if he hardly believed the words he was saying.

“Oh, excellent!” Mama gave Mrs. Spriggins an embrace. “How exciting this must be for you. I had no idea.”

The older woman smiled wearily. “Yes, I never expected dear Lambert to be avenged. But, well, things have worked out quite differently than I thought.”

They continued talking, but Lila glanced over to where Papa had gone. He was sitting on a fallen log with his head in his hands. He looked so different from the strong and quiet Papa she’d always known — he looked crushed. Defeated.

Quietly, Lila slipped away from the conversation and went over to where Papa was sitting. She sat down next to him. “We can rebuild it, right?” she asked, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

Papa glanced at her, and a flicker of a smile passed across his face. “Yes,” he said. “We can rebuild it. We’ll take care of each other.”

He stood up and walked back to where the others were. Lila scrambled to follow. “Gretchen,” he said, interrupting the conversation. “We need to talk, to plan our next steps.”

Mama nodded. She hugged Jack’s mother again and wished them both well, then turned to Papa. “Well? Do you have a plan?”

“The house will take at least a month to rebuild. We’ll need a place to stay in the meantime.”

“We could go to the capital with Jack,” Mama suggested. “They’ll have inns where we could stay. And we could buy supplies for the house while we’re there.”

Lila’s heart leaped at the thought of going to the capital. She’d never even left Ashbrooke before — what would a huge city be like?

But Papa shook his head. “Best we stay close. You’re not strong enough to make the journey.”

Mama raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Lila didn’t know the full details of her mother’s condition, but she was often tired, and she would sometimes get sick for long periods of time. But she was still spirited and independent, and she had a strength that went far beyond what people could see.

“Can we stay with someone here?” Lila suggested. “Like Melsie or Fini or Tavia?”

“They wouldn’t be able to take us in,” Mama said gently. “Besides, we’d be imposing.”

“There’s one option,” Papa said. “But you might not like it, Gretchen.”

Mama looked at him questioningly.

“We could stay with my aunt. She has a farm just north of town. The house is big, and as far as I know, she lives alone.”

Mama’s eyes narrowed, and she brushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Isn’t that near the forest?”

Papa nodded.

“Anders, you know what they say about Gilming Forest.”

“Rumors, as far as I’m concerned. But I want you to be comfortable.”

Lila badly wanted to ask what they said about Gilming Forest, but she held her tongue while Papa and Mama talked.

“We’d still be imposing,” Mama pointed out.

“She’s family. And she always told me when I was younger that I could come to see her any time I needed.” Papa shrugged. “We could try to find someone from the village to take us in.”

“No, I …” Mama sighed. “We can stay with her if she’ll take us. There’s nowhere else we can go right now.”

“Excellent. I’ll pack the wagon.”

So it was decided. They’d leave their house and stay with Papa’s aunt, a relative that Lila had never even heard of before. If they lived so close, why hadn’t they ever visited?

Lila watched as her parents packed up the wagon. She wanted to help, but she knew she’d just get in the way. That was what always happened when she tried to help with things. So instead, she busied herself with thoughts of the future — of Papa’s aunt, magic beanstalks, and the Gilming Forest.

Somehow, they were all connected. But how?

~~~~

Chapter 3

When the wagon finally rolled away, Lila turned around and watched as their ruined house disappeared in the distance. None of this made sense. She’d figured that a change as huge as this would at least come with some warning — but instead, Lila’s life had been turned upside down in a heartbeat. And now the future was more uncertain than ever.

The sky rumbled ominously, matching Lila’s fears. Mama pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Looks like it might rain. How far did you say your aunt’s farm was again?”

“Just a mile or so.” Papa snapped the reins, and the horses jolted to a trot.

Lila glanced up at the sky. It was dark and foreboding. Soon, a few drops landed on Lila's face, and she closed her eyes. Rain was peaceful sometimes. It was simple — you tried not to get caught outside when it rained, and you made the best of it when you did. That was that.

If only the rest of life was as simple as the rain.

The drizzle thickened slightly as they rode. Papa took off his cloak and handed it to Mama, who put it on gratefully. Lila hoped Mama wouldn't get sick because of the rain — that had happened before, and it had taken her a long time to recover.

After half an hour, they turned off of the main road and onto a side path. The rain had turned the ground into mud, but the horses plodded along steadily. Lila’s hair was matted to her forehead by the water, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was too full of nervous anticipation — and, of course, questions.

When would they return to the village? What was Papa’s aunt like? It really was strange that they’d never met her. Mama had acted like she didn’t like the forest, and apparently, nobody liked the forest. But what was wrong with it? Why was the forest bad?

At the end of the road, Lila could see the house. It was old and weathered, and the windows glowed with an inviting light. Someone had lit a candle inside even though it was barely late afternoon. The place had an odd feeling — it looked rather disheveled, but there was a freshness to the air that had nothing to do with the rain, though Lila had no idea what it was.

Next to the house was a barn, and it was in front of this barn that Papa stopped the wagon. “All right, we're here.” He stepped out and held an arm first to help Mama down, then Lila.

The rain had thickened by now. They headed to the house, and Lila focused on her feet to avoid splashing in the mud. Papa offered his arm to Mama, but she shook her head and walked by herself.

Moments after Papa knocked on the weathered wooden door, it opened.

Behind the door stood an old woman. She had a thin frame and silvery gray hair that reached just past her chin, and she wore a simple red housedress that hung loosely about her shoulders. Her mouth dropped open when she saw them. “Anders? What brings you here after so long?”

“Hello, Aunt Libby,” Papa said. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but we don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Libby’s eyes narrowed in concern, and she tilted her head. “Of course. How can I help you, dear?”

Papa explained the story — how the beanstalk had destroyed their home, leaving them without anywhere to stay until it was rebuilt.

“Of course you can stay with us!” Libby exclaimed as soon as he finished. “Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear it. Well, why don’t you all come in and get dry? I’ll show you around.” She ushered them all inside.

Lila gazed around the house curiously. It was dark inside, the kind of darkness that made everything feel cozy and sheltered. A candle sat on a table near the window. Libby’s light footsteps echoed on the hardwood boards as she led them through the hall, and the rain pattered reassuringly on the shingled roof.

As Great-Aunt Libby was chatting with her parents, Lila noticed a tall boy standing in the doorway. His eyes were narrowed and he was studying her with a furrowed forehead.

Lila smiled at him, a little nervous. “Hi,” she said. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” He stepped forward, and Lila got a better look at him. He was a skinny boy with messy brown hair and strong arms, and his face was freckled and tan.

“My name’s Lila! My papa and mama are over there, and my great-aunt lives here — they’re talking to her right now. What’s your name?”

“Hunter?” Libby called before the boy had a chance to answer. “Oh, good! You two have met each other. Lila, this is Hunter, my grandson. Hunter, Lila and her family will be staying with us for the time being until they can rebuild their house.”

Lila smiled shyly at Hunter. She did hope he would like her, even though the tightness in his jaw didn’t give the impression that he did.

There was an awkward silence. Libby cleared her throat. “Well, while I go with Gretchen and Anders to bring their things in, why don’t you two go and finish up the chores? Hunter can show you what to do, Lila.”

“Oh, that’s okay — ” Lila started to say. She didn’t know what the farm chores would be, but she was sure she wouldn’t be good at them. She was too clumsy to do that sort of thing — she’d probably just mess them up.

But Hunter just shrugged and left, waving for her to follow him.

Chapter 4

“Hey! Wait for me!”

“Hurry up, then!” Hunter called down over his shoulder. He didn’t pause.

Lila hopped down the stairs on the front porch after him. The rain had trickled off, though a few drops fell here and there and the sun was still hidden behind the clouds. Her boots made a squelching sound in the mud as she followed Hunter across the yard. “Are we going to the barn?”

Hunter didn’t reply but continued across the field toward the barn, so Lila supposed the answer was yes. She ran to catch up with him. “What’s it like living on a farm? I’ve lived in the town my whole life. Well, right outside the town, I guess, but it’s close.”

“Why do you talk so much?” Hunter pulled the barn door open and stepped inside.

Lila shut her mouth, surprised by his abruptness. She didn’t mean to talk so much. She just wanted someone to talk with. I miss Melsie, she thought.

There were only three stalls in the barn, and Hunter opened the door of one of them. Inside was a beautiful spotted cow. “Here’s the cow,” he said. “I’ll milk her. Everything else is done.”

Lila stepped up to the cow and put a timid hand on its neck. “Can I try?” she asked hopefully.

Hunter turned around and gave her a funny look. “What?”

“Can I try to milk her?” It was a long shot — Hunter, like everyone else, would probably tell her no, that it was best to leave these things to the experts, that she didn’t need to learn how to do it, and that she shouldn’t try. But Lila badly wanted to prove to her parents that just because she was clumsy didn’t mean she was useless.

“Uh … sure. If you want.” Hunter still looked skeptical, but he opened the stall door and moved a three-legged stool next to the cow, who flicked her tail at him. “Come over here. And grab that bucket, would you?”

Lila picked up the bucket from its hook and handed it to Hunter. He took it and set it underneath the cow. “Watch me,” he ordered, then sat down and grasped the cow’s udder. A long line of frothy milk spurted into the bucket.

It seemed simple enough.

When the stream trailed off, Hunter let go. “Okay, your turn.” He stood up and stepped aside.

Nervously, Lila sat down. She had never been so close to such a large animal before, and the slight stink of the cow surprised her. She wrinkled her nose.

“Do what I did,” Hunter told her. “Take two teats in your hand and squeeze them into the bucket. Careful, though, you don’t want to hurt her.”

“Okay …” Lila reached out her hand to grasp the teats. Her hand fumbled around, but she managed to get a firm grip on them. “They’re squishy!”

“That’s how they’re supposed to be,” Hunter said, annoyed. “Now squeeze. But not too tightly.”

Carefully, Lila tightened her grip. To her surprise, a little milk trickled into the bucket. It wasn’t a smooth line, just a few drops — but it was milk. She was doing it.

“A little harder,” Hunter directed, amused.

Lila grinned and obeyed, and the trickle widened into a line. It was a satisfying feeling.

When the stream slowed, Lila let go. Hunter stepped up. “Good job. I can do the rest.”

Lila wanted to protest — she’d only just learned how, and she wanted to continue — but she begrudgingly pushed back the stool to stand up anyways. But as she stood, her foot caught on the hem of her skirt. She yelped and toppled to the ground.

“Whoa! Are you okay — ugh.” Hunter sighed. He stepped over her and looked at the mess she had created. “Nice job, you knocked over the milk bucket. Now I have to go wash it off.”

Lila’s cheeks flushed as Hunter helped her to her feet. “Sorry.” She hadn’t meant to, but would that matter to Hunter? It never seemed to matter to her parents. And now she’d messed up one more thing in her long list of errors.

Hunter picked the bucket up. “You can go back inside. I’ll finish up here.”

“I can help,” Lila offered, feeling guilty. “It’s my fault.”

“No, I’ll do it. You don’t know where the well is.” He grabbed the bucket — now filled with bits of straw and dirt — and headed out the door.

Lila followed him. “I didn’t mean to,” she said apologetically. “Do you think I could get better at it if I kept practicing? And what are the other chores you do besides milking?”

Hunter glanced over at her, an incredulous look on his face. “Do you actually want to do the farm chores?”

Lila shrugged. “They look fun.”

Hunter didn’t say anything else until they arrived at the well.

The well looked like a miniature house made of stone. There was a crank attached to a rope on the side, which Hunter turned. Eventually, a bucket appeared full of water. Lila grabbed it and carefully set it on the wall for Hunter.

“Thanks,” Hunter said. His face had softened. Earlier, he’d been almost glaring, but now he just looked normal. As she watched him wash the pail, Lila smiled. Maybe he could be her friend after all.

Something drew her away from her thoughts. She turned around and realized how close they were to the forest. The light was dim — it was almost evening, and the clouds blocked what little sunlight was left in the sky — but between the trees, Lila could make out twinkling lights. They danced and wove in and out of view, almost like the sparks from a campfire, if sparks could go in more directions than up.

Lila stepped forward, transfixed by the lights. They were beautiful, more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen.

“Lila? Where are you going — oh.” Hunter stepped up beside her. “The forest.”

“What are they?” Lila asked dreamily. She took a step forward.

Hunter grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Grandma says they’re dangerous. I don’t know exactly what they are, but we shouldn’t go into the forest at night, that’s for sure.”

Lila’s face fell. “They’re so pretty, and small. How can they be dangerous?”

“Dunno. But Grandma says they are, and she knows what she’s talking about.” He dropped the water bucket down into the well and grabbed the clean milk pail. “Let’s go.”

In the barn, Lila watched Hunter finish the milking. But the lights kept nagging at her mind.

They were just one more question she didn’t know how to answer.

Chapter 5

“What are the lights in the forest?” Lila asked at dinner that evening.

Great-Aunt Libby set down her cup and looked intently at Lila. “The lights? When did you see those?”

“We had to go to the well,” Lila explained. “And it was getting dark, so we could see little lights like sparks. They were really pretty.” Hunter had said his grandma would know, hadn’t he?

Libby’s eyes flickered to Hunter, who squirmed in his chair, then back at Lila. “Well, Lila, the lights in the forest are fairies.” She took another bite of mashed potatoes and chewed it thoughtfully.

“Fairies?” Lila’s mouth dropped open and she dropped her fork with a clatter. “They live here?”

“Lila, remember your manners,” Mama said softly.

Lila blushed and looked down at her plate. “Sorry.”

Great-Aunt Libby chuckled. “Yes, fairies live in the forest,” she continued. “But they may not be what you think. Stay away from there, Lila, especially when it’s dark. Things may happen that you didn’t bargain for.”

Shyly, Lila looked up to meet her great-aunt’s twinkling eyes. “Why?”

“The fairies in the forest are clever and tricky,” Libby said. Her hand still held her fork, but the look in her eyes had grown far away and distant. “They are old and think very differently than we humans do. They have incredible power, but they only use it how they see fit, regardless of what we think to be right.” She paused. “At least, according to the stories.”

Papa cleared his throat before cutting in: “And that’s all they are, Lila. Stories and nursery rhymes. The lights in the forest were fireflies. You’ve seen them before on summer nights.”

Great-Aunt Libby’s expression didn’t change. “Yes. Fireflies.”

Hunter snickered into his cup, then covered it up with a cough.

Mama and Papa had gone into the spare bedroom after saying goodnight, and it had been decided that Lila would sleep in the front room near the door. Great-Aunt Libby was helping Lila make up the bed, and Lila was doing her best to help — she was anxious to make the best impression possible.

Already, Lila liked her great-aunt. Libby had the air of someone who always knew just what to do — she was confident, assured, and strong. She was exactly the kind of person Lila wanted to be, and she had the answer to so many of Lila’s questions.

With that in mind, Lila worked up the courage to ask:

“The fairies are real, aren’t they? Even though Papa says they’re not?”

Libby looked up, gentleness creasing her eyes. “Why are you asking, Lila?”

Lila shrugged. “Because I want to know.” She’d said the fairies had power, right? What kind of power did she mean?

“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t curious when I was younger,” Aunt Libby said. She smoothed the quilt and sat down, motioning for Lila to sit as well. “Come and listen. I’ll tell you about the fairies in Gilming Forest.”

Eagerly, Lila sat down.

“The fairies in Gilming are old and powerful,” Libby began. “They come in many shapes and sizes. And yes, they’re very real — more real than many other things you’ll hear of.

“They’ve lived in Gilming for many years now, certainly since before I was a girl. They’ve probably been there as long as the forest has existed. Each fairy has one power, and that power is unique to them — they’re the only one who has it, and they’re bound to use it forever.”

“Who binds them?” Lila asked.

Libby shook her head. “Nobody knows for sure. Some say it’s the Fairy King, some say it’s the forest itself. If you ask me, it’s just the way things are. Just like a magnet is drawn toward a piece of iron, a fairy is drawn toward using their magic.”

“Wow,” Lila breathed. “What if they don’t want to? Do they have to do it anyway?” That would be rather sad if they wanted to do something but couldn’t just because they were a fairy.

“Some fairies don’t like their power. They wish they could stop using it and be free from what they consider a limitation. But what they don’t realize is that limitations aren’t always bad.” Libby smiled at Lila with care in her eyes. “Limitations aren’t always a weakness. I can’t fly like a bird, no matter how hard I try. But is it unfair that I can’t fly while a bird can?”

Lila giggled, imagining her elderly aunt flapping her arms like a bird’s wings. “No.”

“And why not?”

“Because you’re a person, and you can do other things that birds can’t. Like think and cook and talk to people!”

Libby nodded. “Exactly. Often, our limitations allow us to thrive in other areas, shaping us and refining us into who we are. If you ever think that a natural limitation is a burden, remember that limitations aren’t always bad. Sometimes it’s better to learn to live with a limitation than try to get rid of it. You understand?”

Lila looked down. Aunt Libby made it seem so easy. But sometimes her limitations felt more like trouble than anything else — if she could get rid of them, why shouldn’t she?

“What kinds of things can the fairies do?” she asked to change the subject.

“Why, all sorts of things! They can talk to animals, turn darkness into light and light into darkness, change the way flowers grow, and many more. In fact, they say the fairy Padri controls the weather, though I haven’t met Padri herself.” Libby winked at Lila.

Lila gasped. “Padri? Like — ”

“Like the skip-rope song?” Great-Aunt Libby’s eyes sparkled. “Indeed. Your father says fairies are just nursery rhymes, but nursery rhymes can have a good deal of truth to them.”

“Huh.” Lila made a mental note to tell Melsie as soon as they got back to town.

“And then, of course,” Aunt Libby continued, “there's the most famous fairy of all, Conyth the wish-granter.”

“Wish-granter?” Lila repeated, straightening up. “What kind of wishes?”

“Any wish you like, but only one. You tell it to Conyth, she grants it,” — Libby snapped her fingers in the air — “and that’s the last you’ll see of her for the rest of your life.”

Any wish you like. Now that was something. An idea started forming in Lila’s mind: what if she asked Conyth to make her graceful? Then she wouldn’t be clumsy, and Mama and Papa would be happy because she wouldn’t mess everything up. Papa would trust her, not look at her with disappointment on his face.

Lila’s eyes started to sting, and she blinked away a few tears before Aunt Libby could notice. “She sounds amazing,” she said quietly.

Great-Aunt Libby hesitated. “Conyth … is tricky. She grants your wishes, yes, but there are always consequences.”

“Consequences?”

“Yes.” Libby turned to face Lila and waited until Lila met her eyes. “I need you to understand this, Lila. Magic is dangerous. Fairy-magic especially. Don’t get yourself tangled up in it, all right?”

Lila nodded, but only because it felt like she was supposed to. How dangerous could fairy magic be? The lights in the forest hadn’t seemed harmful, and if Conyth was bound by the laws of nature to grant the wish, what could she do?

“When I was younger,” Aunt Libby continued, “I went to Conyth. I asked her to make me beautiful. And now, I wish I hadn’t. If only she gave you more than one, then I could undo the damage I did.” She sighed. “That’s why I’m telling you this, Lila. Don’t try to change who you are with magic. It won’t work.”

“But didn’t she grant your wish?” Lila asked.

Libby nodded. “She did. But the cost wasn’t worth it. The cost is never worth it.”

Lila looked down quickly at her hands, fighting the urge to burst into tears. Great-Aunt Libby’s wish might not have been worth it, but she didn’t understand Lila’s problem.

What cost could there be to becoming graceful? She wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, become rich, or even become a princess. Being graceful wasn’t a bad wish, right? And it would make her parents happy with her.

Libby placed her hands on her knees and stood up. “Remember what I said, Lila. The forest may look beautiful, but it’s more dangerous than it appears.”

“Why did Papa never tell us about you?” Lila blurted out.

Libby paused. “There could be many reasons. The forest could be one of them; there are many rumors about Gilming, and the place has a reputation. But perhaps your father merely wished to separate himself from his past. Old wounds can take a long time to heal.” She turned down the oil lantern. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Lila watched her great-aunt leave, then burrowed into the itchy wool blankets, deep in thought. She wasn’t sure what Libby had meant by “old wounds” — Papa had never said anything about them.

Her thoughts drifted from her family to the fairies. Being graceful was something she’d never achieved on her own, no matter how hard she tried. Maybe this magic was the answer she’d been looking for.

She just had to figure out how to get it.

Chapter 6

Life at the farm was simple, and it only took Lila a few days to adjust. Chores in the morning — Hunter had to get up before dawn, and Lila always came with him — followed by either going out into the fields to scare birds away from the crops or sitting with Mama and Aunt Libby to weave baskets to sell at the market. Lila was better at scaring birds than weaving baskets.

Papa and Mama had been preparing to go to the city to get supplies for rebuilding the house. Ashbrooke didn’t have what they needed — the only forest nearby was Gilming, and nobody wanted to go there to get lumber — so they’d need to go to the capital, which was miles away. The trip would probably take a week at least.

Though Lila was excited about the prospect of going to the capital, a worry nagged at her. In all the plans her parents were making, none of them seemed to include her. What if they were planning to leave her behind at the farmhouse?

So as Lila went about her daily business on the farm, weaving baskets and scaring birds, she came up with a plan. Until they left for the capital, she would do everything perfectly. And she would make Papa and Mama so happy with her that they couldn’t leave her behind — they’d have to agree to take her.

It was a good plan, at least if Lila was able to do it.

Finally, the day of the trip dawned. As Lila left the barn, carrying the bucket of milk that she’d carefully milked with Hunter’s supervision, she paused for a moment to admire the sky. It was a nice morning, the kind where everything was gray except for the pink puffy clouds painted over the horizon. The silhouette of the dark trees stood sharply against the soft pinks and yellows and oranges — if she looked closely, she could see every leaf and twig.

Her arms started to ache from holding the bucket up so long. Lila pulled herself away from the sunrise and walked back to the house, though she felt like she could have stayed for hours in the cool air. But if she was going to convince her parents to take her with them, this morning had to go perfectly.

The kitchen was filled with frenzied energy. Mama was packing a basket of food, Great-Aunt Libby was cooking breakfast, Hunter was standing on top of a chair trying to put the egg basket away — the only one missing from the scene was Papa, and everyone was rushing about so much that Lila hesitated to go in and get in the way.

“Breakfast!” Great-Aunt Libby called out, setting a plate of scrambled eggs on the table.

Mama set down the basket and leaned on the counter, breathing heavily for a moment. Papa entered the room and kissed Mama on the cheek. “You all right?” he asked her quietly.

Mama nodded and waved him away. “Just a little out of breath. I’ll be fine.” She sat down at the table, and Papa followed.

Lila, still standing in the doorway with the milk bucket, mustered up her courage. If she didn’t ask, there was no chance of them saying yes. She had to speak. “Um … Papa?”

Papa glanced over at her. His eyes warmed when he saw his daughter. “Yes, Lila?”

Lila approached the breakfast table. “So, uh, I was wondering …” Her heart beat rapidly and lightly. What if they said no?

“Don’t mumble, Lila,” Mama interrupted.

Lila nodded. “Okay. Could I — ”

Right as she was about to set the milk bucket down, her foot caught on the leg of Hunter’s chair. She yelped and thrust her hands out to catch herself.

And the milk bucket went flying all over Papa and Great-Aunt Libby.

There was silence for a moment. Lila caught herself and scrambled to her feet. She bit her lip.

The damage was done.

Papa sighed heavily, his beard dripping with milk. He reached for the cloth on the table, but that was drenched too, so he let it lie.

“Sorry,” Lila said in a small voice.

Papa let out another heavy sigh. “Lila, when will you learn to be more careful? You trip over almost everything, you rush around, and you can’t seem to learn how to use your hands. If you were just more careful, this wouldn’t happen.”

But … I learned to milk the cow. That took my hands. Lila stared at the ground, feeling her throat start to hurt. This always happens. Milking the cow didn’t matter. She knew her clumsiness was her fault, but she couldn’t control it no matter how hard she tried.

Mama put a hand on Papa’s arm. “Anders,” she said quietly.

Papa didn’t meet Mama’s eyes but just shrugged and turned away. “Clean up the mess, Lila.”

“Can I go with you to the capital to buy things for the house?” Lila burst out. She bit her tongue, embarrassed at her boldness.

Papa shook his head. “You would be in the way. It’s better for you to stay at the farm.” And he walked out the door.

Lila stared at the empty doorway, fighting back tears. She didn’t try to mess everything up! She wasn’t doing it on purpose! Why couldn’t Papa see that?

Something must be wrong with her. If she tried so hard but always failed, something about her needed to change.

Quietly, Great-Aunt Libby got up and pulled some rags out of the cupboard. Hunter joined her, and they began to wipe up the milk.

Lila stared at them, knowing she should help. But what if she messed that up too?

So she ran outside and closed the door behind her.

Hunter found her by the side of the barn, curled up with her knees to her chest, crying.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. “Grandma said I should go talk to you.”

“Go away,” Lila said, her voice muffled by her skirt. She hiccuped.

Hunter didn’t go away. Instead, he sat down next to her and waited.

Eventually, Lila’s hiccups slowed. She sat up, wiping her face with her hands. “Papa doesn’t love me,” she said thickly.

“That’s not true.”

Lila glared at Hunter. He was so matter-of-fact. “How do you know?”

“I just do.” He met her eyes evenly. “He loves you. He just doesn’t always show it.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” she snapped. Lila immediately felt bad about her words. “Sorry.”

Hunter shrugged. “Whatever. It’s true, though. Both your parents love you. A lot.” He looked away from her and stared off into the distance.

Lila rested her chin on her knees again. Maybe it was true. Papa and Mama did love her, it just sometimes felt like they didn’t. Like if she kept disappointing them over and over again, they wouldn’t love her anymore.

After a while, Hunter spoke. “You can’t tell anyone this, all right?”

Lila looked over at him curiously. “Tell anyone what?”

“Promise,” he said fiercely.

“I promise.”

It took him a moment to speak. “A while ago, I found a note in Grandma’s room. I wasn’t supposed to be in there, but I needed to get something. It was from my dad. I had always thought my parents were dead, but apparently they aren’t. They just … didn’t want to take care of me. So they dumped me on Grandma. And then they left.”

He looked over at Lila, and the intensity in his eyes startled her. “Your parents love you, Lila. They really do. And you’re so lucky to have that.”

Lila swallowed. The lump in her throat was back, but this time, it was for Hunter, not for her. She didn’t know how to please her parents, but at least she had parents.

“Well, they looked for you for a while, but they couldn’t find you, and they had to reach the capital before dark. Your mom said to tell you goodbye.”

Mama and Papa would be away for at least a week. Lila rested her chin on her knees and sighed.

If only she could fix her clumsiness. If only she could become graceful. Then all her problems would be solved.

Chapter 7

The rest of the day, Lila was listless. She went about the farm chores without her usual energy, and her mind wasn’t on them. Great-Aunt Libby tried to talk to her, but Lila’s responses were unsatisfactory at best. She missed her parents too much to enjoy life on the farm like she had before.

Fixing herself occupied her thoughts. If she was too clumsy, how could she become more graceful? Go to finishing school? That was only for princesses, not regular people. Just try harder? She’d done that for years and it hadn’t made a difference.

There was only one way that would work for sure: go to Conyth, the wish-granting fairy in Gilming Forest, and ask to become graceful. But Great-Aunt Libby had warned her to stay away from the forest. And even if she ignored the warning and tried anyway, her aunt would stop her before she got the chance.

Conyth, it seemed, was out of reach.

The day after Papa and Mama left, Lila and Libby were sitting on the steps of the porch weaving baskets. Lila’s basket had started out well, but she’d just made a mistake with one of the knots and was trying to correct it.

Suddenly, Hunter came sprinting up to them and skidded to a stop. ”Grandma — there’s — ” He broke off, panting.

Great-Aunt Libby stood up. “Catch your breath, Hunter. It’ll wait a minute.”

Hunter shook his head. “It’s urgent. Mrs. Larkin is having her baby.”

“But it’s too early. She’s not due until a month from now.” Great-Aunt Libby’s eyes widened in alarm. “Dear me. I’ll get my bag.” She turned and ran into the house.

“What’s going on?” Lila asked Hunter.

“Grandma delivers babies around here,” Hunter explained. He walked up the porch steps and leaned against the railing, still breathing heavily. “Mrs. Larkin needs her help or the baby might die.”

At that moment, Aunt Libby walked quickly out of the house, carrying a large leather bag. She stopped and looked at Lila and Hunter. “This could have happened at a better time.”

Hunter straightened up. “You’ll be back this evening, right?” His voice pitched up slightly on the last word.

Great-Aunt Libby’s expression was serious. “I don’t know. Mrs. Larkin might need me to stay longer to care for her and the baby, maybe even for a few days. Can you and Lila manage?”

Hunter’s eyes flickered down, then he looked up with resolve upon his face. “Yeah. We should be fine.”

“Good. I’ll take the horse, and I’ll be back as soon as I’m able.” Great-Aunt Libby hugged Hunter tightly, then reached out for Lila too, who had been hanging back. Lila returned the hug and wished that her great-aunt didn’t have to leave just like her parents had.

Libby let go and walked toward the barn. She came out a moment later, leading the brown mare by the bridle. “Stay safe!” she called back to Hunter and Lila.

“We will!” Hunter shouted back.

Libby pulled herself up into the stirrup with surprising dexterity, gave them one final wave, then galloped off.

And Hunter and Lila were alone.

Hunter looked at Lila. “Do you know how to cook?”

Lila shook her head.

“I’ll do it, then. See you in a bit, I have to finish the chores.”

Lila sat down, watching Hunter return to the field. She picked up the basket strands, but just held them in her hands, thinking.

Papa and Mama were gone, and so was Great-Aunt Libby. Beyond the field, the forest loomed, thick and large.

This was the perfect opportunity. Aunt Libby had told her not to go to the forest, but if she did, Conyth would be able to make her graceful. And she’d get what she was after all along.

Lila’s conscience bothered her. She shouldn’t sneak out like that. She’d get in trouble. Besides, lying was wrong.

But she shook off the feeling. She needed to do this. In the long run, it would be better for everyone.

She resolved to leave that night.

As soon as she was sure Hunter was in bed, Lila pushed off her blankets and carefully set her feet on the floor. She got up and tiptoed into the kitchen. She didn’t know how long it would take to find Conyth, but she wanted to be prepared for anything.

There was bread in the corner cupboard. She reached up for the handle.

“Are you getting a midnight snack?”

Lila shrieked and whirled around. Her hand bumped into a jar on the counter, and it tipped over with a large clatter.

Hunter was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. “Well? What are you doing?”

Lila flushed and set the jar upright again. “I’m not doing anything. Go away.”

“That’s obviously a lie.” Hunter glared at her. “Listen, just because you’re from the city or whatever — ”

“I’m not from the city! I’m from outside a very small town. It’s different.”

“Fine. Just because you don’t live here doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want. Grandma left us here because we were responsible. What are you doing?”

Lila looked away. There was no point pretending. “I’m going to the forest.”

Hunter’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Why?”

“Because I need to find Conyth, the fairy who grants wishes. She’ll get rid of my clumsiness and make me graceful.” Lila’s throat started to hurt — again — but she swallowed back her tears and fixed her eyes on the floor. “And then my parents will be happy and everything will be fine.”

Hunter opened his mouth, then shut it again. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision. “Well, I’m coming with you, then.”

Lila looked up, shocked. “Really?”

“Really. I can’t let you go alone, you’ll get lost and never find your way out. I know the area better than you. Besides — ” He shrugged. “I’ve always been curious about the forest.”

Lila’s face broke into a smile. “Thank you, Hunter!” She ran and flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He was the best cousin ever.

“Uh, you’re welcome.” Hunter, uncomfortably, hugged her back.

Lila released him. “Let’s go, then! How far away do you think Conyth is?”

“Let’s wait until it’s light out,” Hunter said. “That way we won’t get lost as easily. Besides, a magic fairy forest at night doesn’t sound too safe.”

“Okay. We’ll leave in the morning, then.” Lila was tired anyway, so she could use the extra sleep.

Hunter left the kitchen, and Lila sat down on the bed. With Hunter helping her, this might work.

Chapter 8

“Psst. Lila.”

Lila felt a poke on her arm. She shifted, yawning. “What?”

“Wake up. It’s almost dawn.”

Lila opened her eyes to see Hunter looking down at her. He had changed his usual overalls to a belted brown shirt and pants and had a rucksack slung over his shoulder. Traveling clothes?

Oh! The forest! Lila came fully awake with a jolt, and the events of the night before came back to her. They were going to the forest to find the fairies, and Hunter had agreed to help her.

She pushed off the blankets and stood up. “I’m ready! Let’s go!”

Outside, the farm was still asleep. It was dark, but not completely — the sun wasn’t up, but the stars in the sky had faded and everything was tinged with a dark gray light. It looked almost magical.

But not quite as magical as the forest ahead of them.

Lila and Hunter walked toward the forest, passing the well. Lila glanced back at the farmhouse. It looked very ordinary compared to the otherworldly magic painted over everything else.

When they reached the edge of the forest, Hunter stopped. “Well, this is it.”

“What?”

“I’ve never gone in here. It’s always been off-limits. And here we are, going inside.” Hunter stared into the trees. “Are you sure about this, Lila?”

Lila nodded. “You don’t have to come with me, though. I don’t mind going in alone.” Truth be told, she would rather have him with her, but she didn’t want to force him.

Hunter shrugged and started walking again. “Here we go.”

Lila followed him in, sticking close behind him. Though she didn’t want to admit it, she was a little nervous. The air felt strange, almost alive, and every breath she took felt foreign. Different.

The trees at the edge of the forest looked normal, but they got thicker the further in they went until eventually they were so big that neither Lila nor Hunter could put their arms around the trunk and have their fingers touch on the other side. And though at first, the pair had to push through branches and underbrush, they soon found themselves walking on a dirt path free of obstacles.

When Lila pointed this out to Hunter, his eyes darted around the forest suspiciously. “Almost like they know we’re here,” he said.

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“I don’t know.”

Every so often, Hunter paused to point out a strange mushroom or plant, of which there were many. Lila’s favorite was the silver flowers that crawled up some of the larger trees like a vine — they seemed to glisten in the shade of the leaves above them. When Lila touched one, her finger tingled, and she pulled it away.

They can change the way flowers grow, Great-Aunt Libby had said. Lila shivered. Perhaps these were fairy flowers, enchanted by one of the inhabitants of the forest to be so beautiful.

But more than the strange path and the unfamiliar flowers, the oddest thing of all was that the forest was almost completely silent. If you listened closely, you could faintly hear the wind rustling in the treetops, but it was very faint. Hunter’s and Lila’s footsteps thumped on the ground, but even they were muted.

Lila was listening hard to the sound of the wind when a shout broke her peaceful reverie.

She stopped walking. “Hunter, do you hear that?”

Hunter glanced at her, startled. “What? Hear what?”

Lila closed her eyes and listened hard. “There it is! Someone’s calling for help. It’s this way.” She pointed and started running, leaving the path behind.

“Lila, wait!” Hunter followed her. “Are you sure this is a good idea? It might be a trap, or we might get lost. Maybe we should just stay here.”

“Someone needs help,” Lila said, determined. She pushed aside a tree branch and held it aside for Hunter to pass through, then resumed her walk. “They might be hurt. We have to see, at least.”

“I don’t know,” Hunter said doubtfully. “What if — ”

He cut off. They’d arrived at a small clearing, ringed by trees but empty inside except for the pale star-shaped flowers that dotted the grass.

“Oh, excellent! Ye’ve heard me! Well, I always did say I was a lucky one.”

In a net hanging from one of the trees, there was a short gnome with wrinkled skin. He looked immensely pleased and also immensely uncomfortable.

Lila’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. How did you get up there?”

“And who are you?” Hunter added, stepping up next to Lila.

The gnome tried to wave his hand, though since it was pinned to his side by the net, he only managed a small wiggle. “The name’s Avin. And to answer yer question, little miss, I got up here from pickin’ the wrong flower.” He sighed. “I needed it, but it turned out to be a trap.”

Lila shied away from the flowers on the ground. A magical flower trap — she’d had no idea they existed. “Why did you need the flowers?”

Hunter walked around the edge of the clearing and stopped behind the tree that held the net. He started pushing and tapping on the bark.

“They’ve got powerful healing properties,” Avin called down to Lila. “If ye brew them into a tea, they’ll cure almost any illness.”

“Are you a healer, then?”

Avin laughed, and his wrinkled face scrunched up even more. “Oh no, lass, I’m a humble tinker. But me sister’s taken sick. The city air, it’s not good for her. So I thought the fairy flower might help.”

“Oh! I’m sorry about your sister. Where do you live?”

“Off in the capital. As I said, the city air isn’t — ”

The gnome cut off suddenly as the net that was holding him released. He landed with a thump in the thick grass.

Lila rushed over to him. “Oh no! Mr. Avin, are you okay?”

Avin lay on the ground, blinking up at the sky. After a moment, he pushed himself to his feet and stretched his shoulders. “I’m fine, thank ye kindly. The real question is, why did that net fall?” He looked around, confused.

Hunter stepped out from behind the tree. “There was a lever. I found it hidden in the bark.”

“I thought so! Ye have the air of a tinker about ye.” Avin clapped Hunter on the shoulder. “Congratulations, young human.”

Hunter looked down, embarrassed, but Lila caught a small smile on his face.

“Now, what brings the two of ye into Gilming Forest, eh?” Avin stuck his thumbs into his suspenders and peered at them with interest. “It’s not a place for lads and lasses.”

“We’re going to see Conyth the Wish-Granter,” Lila said eagerly. “Do you know where she is?”

Avin’s face changed from open goodwill to shock, then concern. “Conyth? You sure, lass?”

Lila hesitated, then nodded. She was sure, right?

“And will ye take a word of advice from a friendly gnome?”

Lila nodded again.

Avin fixed her with a strong look. “Turn back. Now. Before ye see Conyth. She’s not one for the likes of you, she’s for the old and desperate who haven’t a life still left to live. Ye’ve got your future ahead of ye. Don’t throw it away.”

“But I’m not throwing it away,” Lila protested. Conyth was going to help her live her life, not destroy it.

Hunter stepped up beside Lila. “Thanks for the advice, Mr. Avin, but I think we’re going to keep going.”

Avin shrugged. “Well, only trying to repay one good turn. Do be careful. She’s a tricky one, Conyth is.” He bent down and reached for one of the flowers sprouting out of the ground.

Lila gasped. “Wait, you’ll get trapped again!” What was he doing?

“If I am, at least I have two brave adventurers to help me out!” Avin winked at Lila. He plucked one of the flowers.

Nothing happened. Avin chuckled and tucked it into his bag. “I guessed as much. Once the trap’s been triggered, it won’t go off a second time. Lazy design. Any tinker worth their salt would do a better job.” Straightening up, he turned to face Hunter and Lila. “Well, I’d offer to escort ye to your destination, but I’ve got to get back to me sister. I thank ye for the help.”

“You’re welcome,” Lila said cheerfully.

Hunter elbowed Lila. “I’m the one who got him free, you know.”

“And I heard him calling for help in the first place!” Lila elbowed Hunter back.

Avin let out a big belly laugh that made Lila feel warm inside. “No need to fight over the credit. Thank ye both. And if you’ll wait a moment, one more thing before I go.”

He opened his satchel and dug inside for a moment. “Should be in here somewhere … ah! Here it is.” Pulling out his hand with a flourish, he held an object out to Lila.

Lila leaned forward to look. In Avin’s hand was a silver necklace and chain. Thick silver wire curled around a pale blue stone that matched the color of the sky. The stone shimmered in the dappled sunlight. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“Made it meself a few weeks ago,” Avin said proudly. “Take it as thanks.” He turned to Hunter. “And here’s something for you, young sir. It’ll keep its edge longer than any other tool ye have.” He handed Hunter a small knife with an ornately carved handle, sheathed in leather.

Hunter accepted the knife, turning over in his hands and examining it. His face lit up. “Thank you, sir!”

Lila nodded fervently. “Thank you!” She fumbled with the clasp on her necklace but eventually gave up and just looped it over her head.

Avin nodded, pleased at their enjoyment. “Well, I wish ye both the best. Take care.” He turned and walked out of the clearing.

Lila watched him go. “He’s nice.”

“And he gave good advice.” Hunter gave her a pointed look and hooked the knife sheath onto his belt. “It’s not too late to turn back, you know.”

“I thought you said we’d keep going?”

Hunter shrugged. “That’s what you said we’d do. You’re the one wanting to continue on. The point is, what are you going to decide?”

Lila thought for a moment. Avin had said to turn back. Great-Aunt Libby had said that the forest was dangerous. But neither of them denied that Conyth would grant her wish.

“Let’s keep going,” Lila said. “Until we find her.”

Hunter nodded, and the pair set off again.

Chapter 9

The forest grew steadily brighter as they continued. The sun had now fully risen and shone down on them through the trees. Lila’s legs were getting tired from so much walking, but she pressed on with determination.

After about an hour, Hunter stopped, muttering something to himself. “Lila, do you know where we’re going?”

Lila shook her head. “Can’t we just follow the path?” The trail still stretched out in front of them.

“You can’t just follow a path and expect it to take you to the right place!” Hunter rubbed his forehead. “We should have figured out a plan ages ago.”

Lila knew Hunter was right. “But it’s a magic forest,” she said, trying to be optimistic. “Maybe the path knows where we’re going and it’ll take us there. Let’s keep going.”

“We don’t know that’s how the magic works.”

“Well, yes, but it might be. It is magic.”

“The path isn’t leading us anywhere. We’re going in circles.”

Lila bit her tongue. This was a difficulty she hadn’t foreseen — though in hindsight, the problem was obvious. At this point, they were deep inside the forest, but the forest was large. Finding Conyth would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Hunter had started walking again, and Lila scrambled to catch up. His eyes were fixed on the path ahead. “It’ll lead us somewhere, anyway,” he said. “Maybe we can find someone who can give — oh.”

He stopped in his tracks. Lila almost ran into him but caught herself in time. Peering around him, her eyes widened.

The path had led them to a little clearing, perfectly circular with a large stone in the center. A ring of violets grew along the edge where the grass met the forest. Above them, the sunlight shone brightly, a welcome contrast from the shadows of the trees.

This was it. She just knew it.

Lila moved around Hunter and stepped over the violets. She felt a thrill.

“Lila, wait,” Hunter hissed. “Be careful.”

“We’re here,” Lila said, dreamlike. She felt like giggling and throwing herself down on the soft grass and just staring at the sky for the rest of her life. “This is it. I told you the path was leading us to her. We’re in the right place.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” Lila stepped further into the clearing. What was she supposed to do? Say her wish aloud and hope it got granted?

“I don’t like this,” Hunter muttered behind her. He didn’t follow her into the clearing.

Lila reached the stone in the center and hopped on top of it to get a better view. Her foot slipped on the way up, and she barely managed to catch herself. There was very little to see. The clearing was perfectly round, and the grass was neat and trim. Outside the grove, there was nothing but old, thick, mossy trees.

Lila cleared her throat. “Um, hi? Conyth? Are you here?”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, sparks of light appeared in the air around Lila’s head. She gasped, blinking furiously. The lights continued to grow until the whole clearing was full of them — tiny twinkling stars that hovered in the air, completely motionless.

Then the sparks started to move. They floated around the stone in a circle until Lila was dizzy from watching them. Faster and faster they spun, filling the glade with a shining golden light. Lila’s hands flew up to cover her eyes — the beauty of the lights was enchanting, but she couldn’t bear to look at it any longer.

A moment later, when she peeked through her fingers, the lights were gone. In their place stood the strangest being Lila had ever seen.

It — she — was a small woman about two feet tall. She stood in the middle of the air with her hands clasped behind her back. Her hair was an iron black with streaks of gray and was pulled back in a tight bun, except for a few locks of hair that hung down the side of her face. She had no wings as Lila had imagined she would, but her dark green dress fluttered in an unseen wind and faded into mist at the hem.

Her eyes were such a dark blue that they were almost black, like a midnight winter sky.

“Well?” she said sharply. “You called?”

Lila’s mouth was hanging open in shock. She closed it and swallowed. “Are you the fairy who grants wishes?”

The creature lowered her thin eyebrows. “Yes. I’m Conyth the Wish-Granter, the fairy you’ve heard so much about.” She zipped to the side and circled Lila, moving through the air like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to, if you ask nicely. Or even if you don’t. Your wish is my command. I’m the wish-granter, the servant of all, the doer of deeds, and the giver of desires. And I always will be. Forever.”

Lila stared straight ahead. Her heart beat rapidly as Conyth circled her. It was impossible to miss the bitterness in Conyth’s voice — perhaps she was one of the fairies that Great-Aunt Libby had said wished to be free of their power.

“But you,” Conyth continued, stopping right in front of Lila’s face. “You’re just a child. You’re young even by human standards. What brings you to my grove?”

“I want you to grant me a wish,” Lila blurted out.

Conyth sighed and her eyes narrowed. “Clearly. But why? Most who come to me are old, mature, at least by their reckoning. Kings. Those who want to be kings. Spurned lovers seeking the hand of the one who won’t have them.” She leaned forward. “What could a tiny thing like you possibly want that you need me to grant?”

Lila swallowed. She couldn’t back down now. “I want you to make me graceful.”

“What do you mean by that?” Conyth smiled, though her eyes were still narrow.

“Like, not clumsy. So I can dance, do things with my hands, not drop things or trip, milk the cows, that sort of thing.” Lila felt the tears spring into her eyes, but she ignored them. “I want to — to not mess everything up all the time.” I want to make Papa proud of me.

Conyth nodded slowly. “I see. You want to become physically graceful and dexterous, is that it?”

“I don’t know what … what dex …”

“Dexterous,” Conyth supplied impatiently.

“What dexterous means. But yes, that’s what I want.”

Conyth examined Lila. “Then that is what I will give you.” She reached out her hand and tapped the necklace Avin had given Lila. The stone rang with a clear sound throughout the grove, like a note of music. “Give that to me, child.”

Lila reached for the chain of the necklace and tried to pull it over her head. The clasp had gotten stuck in her hair, and she tried to loosen it, but after a moment she just pulled hard and ripped it out of her hair. She handed it to Conyth.

Conyth took the necklace. Lights sprang into the air again, but this time they were only near Conyth’s head. She waved her hand, and the lights hovered closer to the necklace before entering the stone, which flashed bright with a blinding light. Lila blinked her eyes at the sudden brilliance, but it soon dimmed back to normal.

“Here.” Conyth handed the necklace back to Lila. “When you wear this necklace, you will always be physically graceful. You’ll be able to walk and dance and milk the cows to your heart’s content.”

With trembling fingers, Lila looped the necklace over her head and let it rest on her collarbone. Instantly, a thrill ran through her. She stood up straight and raised her hands in wonder. Her hands didn’t look different, but they felt different. Stronger. More assured. Her fingers didn’t tremble anymore; she touched her fingers together, marveling at their steadiness. Even her mind felt different — focused, capable, free.

“Yes, it worked,” Conyth said, sounding bored. “Lovely. Is that all you want from me? You only get one wish, unless your friend here wants one too.” Abruptly, she zipped away from Lila and flew to the edge of the grove, right in front of Hunter’s face. “Well?”

Hunter stepped away from the ring of flowers. He waved Avin’s knife at Conyth. “Get back!”

Conyth laughed. “I’m not afraid of you, farmer boy. I know all about you. All about why you live on that farm with your grandmother, all about what your deepest desires are. And after all, I live to serve. I can give it to you. Won’t you let me give you what you want?”

Hunter lifted his chin. “You don’t know what I want. And even if you did, you couldn’t give it to me.”

“Don’t I?” Conyth purred. “Couldn’t I?” She hovered closer to Hunter but didn’t pass through the ring of violets. “Dear boy, you underestimate what I’m capable of. I can topple kingdoms. I can transform lives. I can even do the impossible and change hearts — create love where there was none before.” She tilted her head. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Hunter’s fist clenched. “It wouldn’t be for real. Everything you do is a lie.” He stepped back further. “Come on, Lila, let’s go.”

Conyth pursed her lips. “Well. Have it your way.” She zipped back to the middle of the clearing and looked down on Lila and Hunter. “That’s all you can get from me, so there’s no reason for you to stay in my grove any longer.” Her voice had lost its silkiness and was sharp and pointed. Clearly, their presence irritated her.

Lila hopped down from the rock. When she landed perfectly on the grass without losing her balance, a shot of pleasure ran through her. She turned around and skipped a few steps, marveling at the steadiness of her feet. Her mind felt wonderfully clear. It was as if she’d been half blind all her life, and now — only now — could she finally see.

“Lila, let’s go,” Hunter said again. His eyes were fixed on Conyth with suspicion.

Well, he didn’t need to be so rude. Conyth had just given her her greatest desire in all the world, and that was the most important thing. Still, Lila skipped over to Hunter and stepped over the ring of violets. “You’re sure you don’t want anything?”

“No,” Hunter said, sounding disgusted. “Like I said, she couldn’t give me what I want. Let’s just get out of the forest before my grandma comes back.”

He began walking down the path. Lila started to follow but glanced back over her shoulder to look at the grove, to thank the fairy who had given her the beginning of her new life, so to speak.

But Conyth was gone. The grove was empty. So Lila turned back down the path and walked after Hunter.

Chapter 10

Lila led the way this time, ducking around the branches and ivy that reached into their path. Her face was fixed with a wide uncontrollable smile. Every time she moved, it felt like she was doing something new. She felt like bursting into song.

Hunter, in contrast, walked in silence. He looked at the forest with suspicion, like he thought everything in there was planning to attack them. Lila didn’t understand why. Hadn’t he seen that Conyth was helpful, not bad? Not all fairies were evil, even if Great-Aunt Libby said they were.

The sound of a squirrel’s high-pitched chirps brought her out of her thoughts. Beside the road, a wooden cage had fallen. It had thick bars, and Lila could barely see the small squirrel inside. Another fairy trap? She wrinkled her nose. A squirrel dumb enough to get caught in that trap must be very dumb indeed.

Lila walked right by, but Hunter stopped. He bent down and fiddled with the top of the cage.

“What are you doing?” Lila asked, curious.

“Freeing the squirrel. What does it look like?” He pulled out his knife and pried something off, then opened the door. The squirrel darted out of the cage and disappeared up a tree. Hunter straightened up and gave Lila a strange look.

Lila shrugged, waiting for him to keep going on the path. He didn’t need to act like she was doing something wrong. If the squirrel hadn’t been smart enough to avoid the traps, Lila didn’t need to worry about saving it.

The pair continued forward. The sun was high in the sky by now, and Lila was getting worried. What if Great-Aunt Libby came home sooner than expected? They’d be in huge trouble.

The necklace hung heavy around her neck. She tucked it into her shirt. Nobody needed to know it was enchanted; they could just see it and think it was pretty.

“You know,” Hunter said, breaking the silence, “you could milk the cows already. You didn’t need an enchantment to do that.”

Lila frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in the grove, you said you wanted to be able to use your hands and do things like milk the cows. But you knew how to do that already.”

Oh, right. “Well, I wanted to do it better, that’s all.” Was that so wrong?

“Whatever.” Hunter continued walking.

After a while, Lila looked at him curiously. “What do you want?”

“Huh?”

“You told Conyth she couldn’t give you what you wanted,” Lila said. “So you must want something. What is it?” After all, if it had been important enough to hide from the wish-granting fairy herself, it must be interesting.

Hunter shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Come on.” Lila stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “You must want something. What is it? I promise I won’t tell anybody.”

Hunter opened his mouth, then closed it and thought for a moment. “I want … well, I don’t know what I want, exactly.” He looked toward the edge of the forest, contemplative. “I know what I don’t want.”

“And what’s that?”

“To be like my dad.” His voice was hard. “So I guess I want to be a better person than he was. No, than he is. He’s still out there somewhere.”

Lila felt awkward. Of course, she’d forgotten about Hunter’s parents. What must it be like, growing up without knowing your mother and father, never understanding why they’d left you? Lila couldn’t imagine life without Mama or Papa, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to try.

“I don’t want to be the kind of person who’d just abandon a kid to grow up on his own.” Hunter let out a long, slow breath. “I want to be better than that. And Conyth can’t give that to me.”

Lila studied the tall boy in front of her, and a strange feeling began to grow in her mind. Out of all the things to wish for, that was an odd one. Hunter could have wanted fame, money, power, or adventure, but instead, he wanted … goodness.

What a dumb wish. No wonder he didn’t ask Conyth for anything.

Immediately, she was shocked at herself. Why had she thought that? It wasn’t dumb that Hunter wanted to be a good person, it was beautiful and touching. She shouldn’t think that was dumb. It wasn’t.

“Well,” Hunter said after a moment, “let’s keep going.”

The path had completely disappeared by this point. They picked their way through the underbrush with difficulty — tree roots and bushes seemed to have sprouted up all over the place. And the number of low-hanging branches in their way had multiplied.

Hunter pushed one of these branches aside for Lila. “Do you think it’s harder to get out? I don’t remember all these branches on the way in.”

“Maybe it’s just a different part of the forest,” Lila suggested.

“Or maybe not. Grandma always said the forest was dangerous. It wanted us to get in, so it helped us. But now it doesn’t care whether we leave.”

Lila shivered. “I don’t like that.” The forest sounded like a monster, almost like it had a mind. That couldn’t be true, could it?

“Me neither.” Hunter fell silent and kept tramping through the underbrush.

Finally, Lila could see the farmhouse through the trees. And though she was relieved, she was also disappointed. They were returning to the ordinary boring world with ordinary boring chores and ordinary boring conversation, where magic was just a story you weren’t supposed to talk about at the dinner table.

But Lila was different now. She was enchanted. She was finally graceful.

Maybe now Mama and Papa would finally be proud of her.

Chapter 11

Great-Aunt Libby hadn’t returned home yet, though it was nearly noon. As soon as they reached the farmhouse, Hunter dropped his rucksack on the porch and took off running. “We forgot to do the chores!” he yelled over his shoulder before entering the barn and banging the door behind him.

Lila laughed and followed him. There wasn’t any real urgency to doing the chores, was there? After all, Great-Aunt Libby didn’t know they’d forgotten.

Hunter was already milking the cow by the time she reached the barn. “Hey, get the eggs, will you?”

Lila’s temper flared. Hunter wasn’t her mom or dad, she didn’t have to do what he told her to do. “What’s the hurry?” she asked. “Great-Aunt Libby won’t be back for a while.”

“First, you don’t know that for sure. Second, if you don’t collect the eggs, the hens might break them by mistake and eat them. We’ve already left it half a day too late.”

“Fine.” Lila wandered off in the direction of the chicken coop. The breeze tickled her face. Her feet felt steady on the grass, and she had an urge to break into a run.

So she did. She practically flew over the field, then slowed a little and reached out her hands like she’d seen the other girls do and turned a cartwheel. Her feet flew high above her head, but her arms stood strong and she landed safely.

She shivered in delight. She could do it! The enchantment had truly given her the transformation she’d needed.

I’m never taking this necklace off as long as I live.

In the chicken coop, Lila placed the eggs in the basket one by one. She didn’t worry about breaking them. Her fingers were as firm as they needed to be and no firmer, her arm was steady as it held the basket, and none of it required any effort at all.

As she was putting the last egg in the basket, she paused and looked at it. If holding them was so easy, was there anything else she could do?

Carefully, she picked up an egg and held it up. Then with a gentle toss, she threw it up into the air.

And she caught it.

A laugh escaped her, and she twirled around, the basket still on her arm. She was invincible! She had all the skills she’d dreamed of and more, and she was as graceful and perfect as any of the girls in Ashbrooke. Maybe even the whole world!

Footsteps alerted her to Hunter’s presence. She stopped twirling and opened her eyes. “Hey!”

“What are you doing?” Hunter looked at her curiously. He was still holding the milk bucket.

“Practicing being graceful! It’s amazing. Look what I can do!” Lila picked up a second egg and tossed it high into the air. It rose in a high arc, then fell down into her outstretched hand.

Hunter’s eyes widened. “Wow. That, uh … that’s something. Guess the necklace really worked.” His tone was odd. He wasn’t excited like she was — he sounded more reserved. Guarded.

Lila frowned, but let it go. Hunter wasn’t her enemy. He was her friend, and she could trust him.

Right?

“Did you get all the eggs?” Hunter asked her.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Yes, duh. Are we going to have lunch? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah. Let’s go back to the house.”

Hunter cooked some of the eggs for lunch and put them on top of two thick slices of bread. It seemed quite simple, but Lila didn’t know how to cook herself, so she couldn’t do better.

As soon as Lila sat down, Hunter looked her straight in the eye. “What are you going to tell Grandma and your parents?”

Lila nearly choked on her bite of egg and bread. She chewed it daintily and swallowed. “Nothing. What should I tell them?” That boy truly had no tact.

“You’re not going to tell them about the enchantment?” Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“If I told your grandma, she’d take it away. And if I told my parents, they’d probably take it away too. So I’m not going to tell them anything. It’s better this way.” Lila took another bite of the bread. It was actually quite good.

Hunter stood up. “Then I will. You can’t lie to your parents, Lila. Or you shouldn’t, at least.”

“No!” Lila dropped the food onto the plate in panic. “Don’t. Please.”

“I will,” Hunter insisted. “Unless you do it yourself. That would be better anyway.”

Lila’s thoughts raced. If Hunter told his grandmother, everything was lost. How could she stop him? “No, you can’t. I won’t let you. If you do, I’ll — I’ll tell Great-Aunt Libby you found that note in her room when you weren’t supposed to! And then you’ll get in trouble.”

Hunter folded his arms. “Oh really?”

“And,” Lila added, glaring at him, “I’ll tell the people in town about your parents, too. All my friends and everyone.”

Hunter went still. “You wouldn’t do that.”

Lila held her ground. “If you tell anyone about the forest, I will.”

“You can’t be serious.” Hunter was mad now. “I trusted you with that. I thought you were a good person.”

“I am a good person,” Lila said, lifting her chin. She just had to make sure he kept her secret, that was all.

“No, you’re not. You’re a liar. And just ‘cause you’re graceful now doesn’t make that okay.” Hunter grabbed his lunch and stalked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.

Lila watched him go, then started eating again. He could sulk if he wanted to. At least he wouldn’t tell Great-Aunt Libby.

A small part of her felt bad for what she’d said. After all, she had promised she wouldn’t tell anybody. Was she really going to go back on her word? Besides, she didn’t want to hurt Hunter. He’d helped her find her way in the forest, and he was family.

But any concern she had for Hunter quickly faded when she remembered what the stakes were for her. If Hunter told his grandmother, everything she’d worked for would fall apart. And she simply couldn’t risk that happening. She had to look out for herself first.

Lila didn’t know why that thought felt so wrong.

Chapter 12

Hunter didn’t talk to her for the rest of the day. He did the farm work by himself, and Lila decided to sit on the porch and weave baskets. Though it had once been a frustrating chore, Lila now enjoyed the work — her fingers were nimble and sure, and she’d finally figured out how to hold everything so the straw didn’t spill out of her hands.

In a way, it was good that she had so much time to herself because she’d realized something important. Her parents thought of her as clumsy and careless, and Great-Aunt Libby probably did too. If she immediately started acting graceful, they’d get suspicious. And they’d start asking questions.

No, she’d better make the change a gradual one. Eventually, she’d be able to act gracefully, but for now, she had to make sure nobody suspected a thing.

Great-Aunt Libby finally returned the next morning. She trotted in on her horse and dismounted in the barn, then came up to the porch steps. “Lila, it’s good to see you, dear! Did you and Hunter manage all right?”

Lila smiled cheerily. “We did! And how is the baby?” She didn’t particularly care, but after all, she had to keep up appearances.

“Everything went well, I’m happy to report. The mother is healthy and — Lila! Did you make these?” Great-Aunt Libby stepped onto the porch and picked up one of the baskets Lila had woven, examining it with surprise.

Lila’s eyes went wide. “Uh, yes!” she said, casting around for a lie that would put Libby off her trail. “Yeah, I was practicing. There wasn’t much else to do, so I got pretty good at them.”

“You did quite well,” Aunt Libby said, impressed. “Excellent job.” She set the basket down. “Well, I’ll go say hello to Hunter. Keep up the good work, Lila.” She walked away.

Lila breathed a sigh of relief. She’d have to be careful. Great-Aunt Libby was annoyingly perceptive, and Lila did not doubt that she would notice any clues Lila left her. It was unfortunate, but it was true nonetheless.

For the next few days, Lila made sure to drop things occasionally in front of her great-aunt. It annoyed Hunter to no end — he’d often say something sarcastic or even leave the room. Great-Aunt Libby didn’t know what to make of Hunter’s behavior, and every time she commented on it, Lila got nervous. What if her threat wasn’t enough? What if Hunter told on her anyway? After all, she couldn’t be completely sure he wouldn’t.

A few days later, Lila was on the porch when she heard the clip-clop of horse hooves approaching. She looked up and saw her parents’ wagon rolling in. They’re back! She stood up and waved. “Papa! Mama!”

The wagon pulled up and rolled to a stop. Papa was helping Mama step down as Lila ran up to meet them. Anxiously, she waited for them to greet her. Did they miss her? Were they still mad at her? She hadn’t truly done anything wrong, but she wanted to be sure.

“Lila, my girl!” Papa picked her up and tossed her in the air, then hugged her. “How did you hold up while we were gone?”

“Good,” Lila said eagerly. “Great-Aunt Libby had to go deliver a baby!”

“Did she, now?” Mama said, looking impressed. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, even though it wasn’t very cold. “Well. I’m glad. Oh, Lila, where did you get that necklace?”

Lila’s hand immediately went to her throat. The necklace must have come out from under her dress when Papa had thrown her in the air. “I — uh — ”

“It came from a gnome.” Hunter had come up to the wagon, still holding his hoe.

“A … gnome?” Papa frowned.

Lila shot Hunter a glare. Her heart beat rapidly. He knew what she’d do if he told her parents about the enchantment. If he said anything, she’d never forgive him.

Hunter met her eyes with a blank face. “Yeah. He came out of the forest, and we gave him some food. Then he left. He gave me a knife and Lila that necklace as thanks.”

The anxiety eating at her heart faded away. Lila smiled happily at Papa. “Yeah! He was really nice.”

“Well, I’m glad you were able to help him.” Papa glanced at the wagon. “Now, we have to carry all this inside, so let us — ”

“I’ll help!” Lila said eagerly.

Papa hesitated, but before he could speak, Mama put a hand on his arm and turned to Lila. “That would be wonderful, Lila. Could you carry that bag of wool to the house?”

They were humoring her. It wouldn’t matter to them if she dropped the wool, Mama was just trying to keep her busy and make her feel like she was helping. Lila forced the happy smile back onto her face. “Okay!” She grabbed the bag of wool and ran off to the house, not bothering to be too careful.

When she arrived, she set the bag down on the kitchen table, completely safe. See? She was better now. She was the graceful daughter Papa had always wanted.

Careful, Lila. Don’t show off too much, they’ll get suspicious.

That was true, she supposed. Lying to her parents wasn’t something she was practiced at. This would be tricky, but she was confident she could do it.

Something about that felt wrong to Lila, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. She shook off the odd feeling. It probably didn’t matter — she’d gotten what she wanted, and now she could be happy. Now she could finally make her parents proud of her.

Couldn’t she?

Mama got sick just a few days after she and Papa returned to the city, so they weren’t able to leave the farm yet. Lila didn’t like it — she was tired of the farm, and especially of Hunter — but since she had no choice, she stayed quiet and avoided Great-Aunt Libby as much as possible. The time also provided Lila an opportunity to pretend to grow in her newfound gracefulness.

One afternoon, she brought a basket she’d woven to show Papa. “Look,” she said proudly. “I made it. Doesn’t it look good?”

Papa took the basket and turned it around in his hands. “It … does. It looks very good. You made this?”

Well, he didn’t need to sound so surprised. Lila bit her tongue. “Yes, Papa. I’ve been working hard.”

The lies flowed off her tongue so easily now. It was like they didn’t even matter. Was it because she had more practice at it?

“Well.” Papa handed it back to her. “It’s very well-made. Good job.”

He turned back to his work, and Lila left him alone. Her heart practically sang with joy. He was proud of something she’d made. He was proud of her. She was worth something.

Everything she’d ever wanted, she now had. She had admiration from her papa. Her secret was safe. And when she went back to town, all of the adults would be impressed by her transformation. She wouldn’t hear whispers of “clumsy Lila” passed around by the other children, and she wouldn’t embarrass herself in front of everyone anymore. That time of her life was over. And Papa would finally learn not to ignore her or think she wasn’t capable. He’d finally start caring about her.

She stopped in her tracks, surprised at how angry that thought had been. Papa did care about her. He loved her. He’d been happy to see her when he arrived home, hadn’t he? And he’d always loved her and kept her safe. Where had that thought come from?

It troubled Lila, but soon she shrugged it off. These days, it seemed like nothing could trouble her for long.

But she never felt as joyful as she used to, either.

That evening, Mama was finally well enough to come to dinner. Lila ate neatly, unworried about dropping her fork or making a mess. Did Papa and Mama notice?

“Well, thank you for your help these past weeks,” Papa said at the end of the meal, setting down his fork. “We’ve got everything we need. I’ve made arrangements to start building tomorrow with some of the townsfolk — we’ll need all the help we can get. So we won’t have to trespass on your hospitality for much longer.”

Lila perked up. Tomorrow? Finally, they were getting away from the farm. Going back to town would be a nice reprieve from Hunter’s silent glares — at least if Lila was allowed to come.

“Oh, we’ve enjoyed having you here, Anders,” Libby said. “It’s been no trouble. Lila and Gretchen, it was very nice to meet you.”

Mama smiled and started to speak, but her words turned into a cough. She cleared her throat. “Pardon. It was very nice to meet you too. You’ll have to visit us once we’re back in town.”

Great-Aunt Libby laughed. “We’ll see. I do love the quiet farm life, but we can make an effort for friends and family.”

Lila frowned. She didn’t want them to come over. If Libby came, Hunter would come too, and Hunter was to be avoided if at all possible. He knew her secret.

But I know his, too, she thought. So I’m safe. For now.

Chapter 13

After dinner, Mama went to bed. Papa was sitting in the front room and looking over some figures in a little book. Cautiously, Lila approached him. This had to go better than last time.

Papa looked over as she approached. “Hello, Lila.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead.

Lila smiled. “Hello, Papa. I was wondering …”

“Yes?” His dark eyes were tired, and Lila noticed how wrinkled his forehead was. He did seem to crease it a lot, come to think of it.

Lila chose her words carefully. “Tomorrow we’re going to town to rebuild, right? I was thinking. I’ve got a lot of practice doing things around the farm, and I’ve gotten a lot less clumsy. See?” Stepping away from Papa’s chair, she turned and twirled around in a circle like she’d seen the festival dancers do. She didn’t trip or stumble.

Papa raised his eyebrows. “Lila, that’s very impressive. What was it you came to ask?”

“Could I come tomorrow?” Lila asked, giving her father a pleading look, the kind of look that said I’m-so-good-you-have-to-say-yes. “I know you said I might be in the way, but I can help, and I’ll be careful and work hard.”

Papa rubbed his dark beard. “It’ll be hard work, Lila. Maybe you’d better stay at the farm with your cousin.”

“At dinner, you said you needed all the help you could get,” Lila pointed out. “Please, Papa, don’t leave me behind!”

For a long moment, he hesitated. Then, finally, he nodded slowly. “Yes. You can come.”

Lila’s face broke into a smile. “Thank you! I’ll be so helpful, I’ll make you happy, I promise!”

“Lila, you know you don’t have to — ” Papa cut off. His face was frustrated, but not at her. It looked like he couldn’t quite find the words for what he was trying to say. Eventually, he turned away, nodding to himself. “Yes, well, good job. Be ready to go tomorrow.”

Lila left. Her plan had worked. She’d convinced him. She’d made up for her earlier failure, and now she could redeem herself even more.

Then why was there that sour feeling in her stomach? She should be happy, not feeling almost guilty. She hadn’t done anything wrong. There was nothing to be guilty about.

She’d just managed to convince herself she was happy when she turned the corner and saw Hunter leaning against the doorpost, his arms crossed.

Lila’s smile instantly vanished. “What do you want?” she asked irritably.

“Something’s wrong,” Hunter said. He studied her in an odd way — like she was a weird bug on the ground that he was trying to figure out.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Lila pushed past him into the kitchen. She was just there to get a cup of water, but now she wasn’t sure it was worth it if she had to talk to him.

Hunter followed her in. “Don’t you get it? It’s the necklace. It’s messing you up.”

Lila froze. “What do you mean?”

“At first, I thought you were just a jerk. You’re definitely acting like one. But now I don’t think that’s all it is.” Hunter stepped forward. “The magic is what’s doing it. The enchantment’s messing with your mind somehow. Let me take it off.” He reached his hand out to grab the necklace.

Lila slapped his hand away and stepped back, her heart pounding. “Don’t you dare!”

Hunter jerked back. “Okay. Sorry.” But his voice wasn’t sorry at all.

Lila glared at him. “You’re making that up. You’re just jealous you didn’t get an enchantment too.” Or maybe he just hated her and wanted to ruin the one piece of happiness she had.

“I didn’t want one!” Hunter protested. “Lila, take it off. Can’t you see what it’s doing to you?”

Lila straightened up and stuck her chin out at him with a dignified air. “I can see perfectly well. It’s done everything it was supposed to do. And I’m not taking it off just because you tell me to.”

She was glaring at him, but he was looking back at her with pity in his eyes. Pity and sadness.

Fury rose up in Lila’s chest, and she had the urge to throw the cup she was holding right at his face. He had no right to look at her like that. She didn’t need his pity. She was perfectly fine.

Instead, she set the cup down and brushed past him out of the kitchen. She didn’t need to worry about Hunter. She was fine on her own.

And tomorrow she would prove it.

Chapter 14

After breakfast the next morning, they loaded the wagon. Lila carried some of the small things — nails, shingles, and the like — but Papa carried all the heavy lumber and stone. Hunter came out to help, but he always kept his face turned away from Lila. Either he didn’t want to look at her or he didn’t want her to look at him, and Lila wasn’t sure which.

Finally, Papa helped Mama up onto the wagon seat. He picked Lila up and set her right next to Mama, and then climbed up himself. It was time to go.

Hunter came up to the wagon, still avoiding Lila’s face. “Mr. Anders,” he began, “would you like me to come? I’ve done all my chores, and I figure you might need some help rebuilding.”

A spike of panic rose in Lila’s heart. Mama would notice if she glared at Hunter, so she settled for appearing completely indifferent instead.

Fortunately, Papa shook his head. “Thank you for offering, Hunter, but you’re needed here more. We’ve got enough help.”

Hunter nodded, though his face fell. He shot a quick glance at Lila. She folded her hands primly over her knee and ignored him. Ha! So much for “We need all the help we can get” — now that I’m here, we don’t need Hunter at all.

Papa snapped the reins, and they were off. The wagon rolled over the dirt path toward the town, and Lila’s heart pounded with excitement. She was included. She was going to be helpful. Papa and Mama weren’t going to discover her secret, because Hunter had no opportunity to tell them, so she was safe.

After what felt like hours, Ashbrooke came into sight. The dirt underneath the wheels changed to smooth cobblestone roads, and Lila relished the familiar sights and sounds. The place was the same. But she was different. Now, old Mrs. Perkins couldn’t get mad at her for dropping Mama’s wool. Melsie and Tavia and the girls wouldn’t laugh at her when she tripped over the jump rope. Now, she was graceful. And she was about to make sure everybody knew it.

When Papa stopped the wagon in front of their wrecked home, Lila jumped out. The beanstalk no longer lay across the house. Instead, a pile of logs stood nearby. One of the neighbors must have chopped it up.

“Anders!” a familiar voice called across the square. Lila turned to see a group of people coming toward them, led by Mr. Enright — Melsie’s father, a short man with dark hair who always carried himself with confidence. He reached them and shook Papa’s hand. “It’s good to see you again. Can we help unload?”

Papa nodded and began giving directions to all the people who had come to help. Lila stepped away from the wagon to look at the small crowd. Hadn’t Melsie come? She’d have wanted to see Lila, wouldn’t she?

“Lila!” She felt a poke on her shoulder.

Lila whirled around and saw Melsie grinning at her. Her neat black pigtail braids were tied with a bright red ribbon, as always, and her blue dress was woven of the finest wool, finer than anything Lila owned. Typical Melsie, always showing off, she thought, wondering why she’d never noticed that before, but she smiled anyway. “Hello! It’s good to see you!”

“You too. I thought you’d come back all covered in mud like a farm girl, but you seem to have survived okay.” Melsie looked at her critically, then grinned. “Just kidding! You look great. Want to go play?”

“Yeah,” Lila said, eager to finally have some fun, but then she remembered her promise. “Actually, I have to help Papa and Mama with the house. I’d like to, though.”

“Why are they making you do it? You’re just a kid. That kind of work is for the grownups.” Melsie rolled her eyes. “Well, we’ll be around if you can ever come join us.”

Lila watched Melsie go, wishing she could follow. It was too bad she had to work, but Papa had only let her come because she’d promised to help. Maybe she wouldn’t be needed after all, and she could go play?

“Lila!” Papa called from beside the house. The wagon was fully unloaded, and people were starting to lay the boards out on the grass.

Lila ran up to Papa. From that point on, she was kept busy delivering messages, holding things while other people worked, and doing all the minor tasks the adults couldn’t be spared to do. Apparently, Papa hadn’t been exaggerating. They had to clean and sweep and cut away the damaged parts of the house, and it seemed like they needed Lila to help with all of it.

Once the sun was high in the sky, the work stopped for lunch. Lila ran over to sit with Melsie, Tavia, and Fini. “Hey! Can we play now?”

“It’s lunchtime, we’re supposed to be eating,” Melsie pointed out.

Lila rolled her eyes. “I know, but we can eat quickly and then have time to play afterward.”

None of the girls saw a problem with this logic, so after they ate lunch, Tavia pulled out the jump rope. She and Melsie took hold of the ends, and Fini went first. Impatiently, Lila waited for her turn, but it was slow in coming. Fini was the best at jump rope. Once, she’d made it all the way to 53 before tripping — Lila had never made it past 15.

Finally, Fini stumbled. But just as Lila was stepping in, Mama called her back to help clean up the yard, and much to Lila’s disappointment, the chores didn’t end until the lunch break was over.

In the afternoon, errands and messages continued to occupy every second Lila had. The hours seemed to drag on and on, but the house was taking shape. Two of the walls had been torn down, and the men had put up a frame of lumber and were filling in the walls with straw and plaster. But the sun was sinking in the sky, and there was no sign of the work being over. Lila yawned. Why hadn’t she just stayed at the farm?

Her attention was drawn away from her predicament by the sound of Papa and Mama arguing next to the newly built frame. Mama was holding one of the bags they’d brought home from the city. It was full of shingles. Lila went over to see what was going on.

“Really, Anders, I’m fine,” Mama was saying. Her tone was firm. “I can handle this. I’m feeling much better than before; the sunlight’s good for me.”

Papa shook his head. “One of the others can do it. You don’t need to put yourself at risk.”

“Yes, but …” Mama lowered her voice enough so that Lila could barely hear. “I’m tired of watching all of you work while I stand here idle. Let me do this, Anders.”

Papa still looked doubtful. “Gretchen, no one thinks you’re being idle.”

“I do. Please, Anders.”

“If you’re sure.” Papa sighed. “But just to be safe, Lila, hold up the ladder while your mother nails the shingles to the roof.”

Drat, he’d seen her. But it was nearly evening, and soon Melsie and the girls would be going home! Why did she always have to be the one who did all the work?

But she bit her tongue because she’d get a lecture if she complained. Instead, she grudgingly nodded. Papa moved the ladder and propped it up against the wall. Mama climbed up, and Lila took hold of the bottom rungs and held it still.

As she listened to the sound of the hammer on the roof, Lila yawned again. This was the most boring job all day — she wasn’t even doing anything.

“Psst! Lila!”

Lila looked to the side to see Melsie waving at her from around the corner of the house. “What? I’m working.”

Melsie rolled her eyes. “Sure you are. Come over here! Fini’s gone home, and we don’t have enough people to play.”

Lila frowned. So she was just Fini’s replacement? Did Melsie think Lila was only good for playing with when there were no other options? She turned away from Melsie with a scowl.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that. Don’t you want to play?” Melsie huffed. “We haven’t seen you in forever and now you’re ignoring us.”

Lila relented. “Fine. As long as I get to go first.” She let go of the ladder — it stayed in place just fine — and followed Melsie. Nobody would miss her. She wasn’t doing anything useful anyway.

Melsie led her around the corner, and she saw Tavia waiting with the jump rope. Melsie took the other end. “You go first,” she instructed Lila.

This was it. Lila stepped between Melsie and Tavia with a proud smile. This time would be different from last time. This time, she wasn’t the clumsy Lila she’d always been. She was someone new. Different. Better.

The girls began to swing the rope, and Lila jumped over it. Again and again, she leapt, marveling at how strong her feet were. They weren’t weak and faltering, but confident and sure. Graceful.

Tavia kept counting up and up, higher and higher. Her voice sounded awed. 20 … 30 … 40 … 50 … 60! She’d passed Fini’s record!

Finally, after Lila reached 100, she hopped out of the spinning rope and landed. She held herself tall and pointed one foot in front of her as dancers did at festivals, reveling in her triumph.

The next moment, Lila’s reverie was interrupted by a scream and a crash.

Chapter 15

Lila’s heart was pounding. Who had screamed? Was it — no, no, it couldn’t be. That was impossible.

As she turned the corner, she stopped short. A scream of her own cut loose from her throat, and her hands flew up to cover her mouth.

Mama lay on the ground, broken shards of wood around her. Her face was pale and her arm was bent the wrong way.

The ladder lay nearby, fallen from the wall.

Within an instant, Papa was by Mama’s side. He touched her face gently, whispering in her ear. But Mama didn’t move. Lila’s breath came quick and shaky — why didn’t Mama move?

Papa sat up. His face was pale. He looked at the ladder lying on the ground, then up at where Mama had been nailing shingles. And then he looked at Lila, standing at the corner of the house, not even close to where Mama had fallen.

“Lila,” Papa said, his voice strained. “Were you holding up the ladder like I asked you to?”

Everyone fell silent. Lila shrunk back against the wall. “N — no, sir.”

Papa stared at her for a moment, then turned back to Mama lying there on the ground. “Someone go tell the healer,” he said quietly. When no one moved, he raised his head. “Someone go tell the healer! Now!”

One of the boys in the back of the crowd ran off. Papa slid his arm underneath Mama’s neck and legs and carefully picked her up, cradling her hurt arm against his chest. ”Stand back,” he ordered and carried Mama away.

Nobody looked at Lila. Lila wasn’t sure if she could stand to look at herself. She had been told to hold the ladder up. But she hadn’t. She’d gone off to play because that’s what she had wanted to do.

She’d killed her mother.

She choked back a sob, turned, and fled.

Lila didn’t know where she was going until she stopped, panting, at the base of the Idouver Cliffs. In front of her was the stump of the beanstalk that had started this whole thing. She could barely see it through the tears in her eyes. None of this should have happened. Mama should not be so badly hurt. She should be perfectly fine, walking around and smiling like everything was normal.

Even through the pain, her heart felt numb. It felt like part of her mind was fighting her, telling her not to care, telling her that Mama shouldn’t have taken the risk, that Papa shouldn’t have made her work so hard, so it was really their fault, not hers. She hated that part of her mind. Where did it come from? How could she think such things?

Lila felt like she was choking. She sank to the ground and leaned against the cliff wall, covering her face with her hands. This was her fault. She’d been given a job to do, and why hadn’t she done it? If she had, Mama wouldn’t be — wouldn’t be — Lila couldn’t bear to finish the thought.

With a shock, she realized: Hunter was right.

Ever since she’d left Conyth’s grove, she’d been different. Selfish. Uncaring. She’d been those things before, but the enchantment had somehow convinced her those things were good. And it had taken away everything truly good about her and replaced them with horrible indifference.

How had she forgotten her friendship with Hunter and Great-Aunt Libby? How could she have thought of them so poorly? Hunter had confronted her because he cared about her, but she’d been too blind to see the truth of his words. Instead, she’d hated him.

And her blindness may have gotten Mama killed.

Conyth’s words from the grove came back to her: When you wear this necklace, you will always be physically graceful. Did that mean, too, that the enchantment would break when she took it off?

The necklace seemed to grow heavier around her neck. She tugged at it, then stood up, determined. “Sorry, Avin,” she whispered. “Thanks for the necklace anyway.”

And then, with hands surer than they had ever been in her life, Lila unclasped the necklace and flung it at the rocky ground.

And the crystal inside it cracked.

Lila shuddered. An invisible force suddenly drained from her body, leaving her shaky and weak. It felt like water running over her skin, but this was a water more powerful than anything from a well. She reached to pick the necklace up, but her fingers fumbled on the narrow chain. Probably for the best anyway. Straightening up, she kicked the necklace away into a bush and out of sight.

So she was clumsy again. But she was herself again, without any magic clouding her head. That was worth it.

And Mama was still dying in the healer’s hut. Nothing could undo that.

Lila sank to the ground and cried, both out of grief and terror for Mama and relief for herself. What was going to happen? She hadn’t wanted to hurt anybody, but she’d done it anyway. Now what was there for her to do? Was there any way for her to fix it?

She couldn’t fix it. The healer could fix it, maybe, but Lila couldn’t do anything without messing it up now that she was clumsy again.

But no, Lila realized, that wasn’t true.

Papa and Mama had loved her before she’d gotten the necklace, hadn’t they? They’d been frustrated with her sometimes, but they still loved her. That hadn’t ever changed.

And even if she wasn’t magically graceful anymore, maybe there were still ways she could help. Hunter had been right when he said she’d learned to milk the cows without an enchantment — if she could learn that, was there anything else she could learn to do?

She was determined to try. It was her fault Mama was injured. Now she would do all that she could to make Mama better.

Lila wiped her face on her apron, stood up resolutely, and brushed the dirt off her skirt. Then she set off walking toward town.

Chapter 16

For the next month, Lila kept herself very, very busy.

Nobody talked to her about what had happened. Certainly, nobody talked to her about her part in Mama’s injury, even Papa, but they didn’t need to. Lila knew it was her fault with every fiber of her being.

Instead of dwelling on the guilt, she threw herself into doing everything she could to make Mama better. She ran errands for the healer. She delivered blankets and food to make Mama warm and comfortable, even though she was unconscious. She waited with Mama during the nights when Papa was too exhausted to stay awake. Her clumsiness made it hard to carry medicines or take care of Mama in ways that required the skillful touch of a healer, but Lila did everything she possibly could.

Whenever she looked at her mother’s pale, still face, she felt the shuddering shock all over again. It was terrifying to imagine that Lila might never see her mother again any other way than this. The lively, joyful mother she’d known had been replaced by an unconscious woman who might never speak or smile again.

Sometimes people from the village came to visit. They didn’t stay very long, and Lila stayed near the wall out of the way. But it was plain to see from the hushed whispers that everyone cared for Mrs. Gretchen Greene, and everyone would be heartbroken if she was gone for good.

Not as heartbroken as me. Not as heartbroken as Papa.

That was why she had to make sure Mama woke up. Because if she didn’t, Lila’s life would be torn into a thousand pieces without a way of fitting them back together again.

Her mind often dwelled on the necklace and how it had affected her. All along, she’d wanted to make her parents happy. That had never changed. But somehow, she’d forgotten why — she’d forgotten that she loved her parents and wanted to truly please them for their sake, and instead, she’d tried to please them for her sake alone. That wasn’t love. That was selfishness. And Lila had never realized how horribly selfish she was.

One night, Papa had fallen asleep in the healer’s hut. Lila was the only one awake in the room. The sun had gone down hours ago, and the only light came from the candle on the little table. The room was stuffy and hot, but Lila didn’t care. She had to be there — Mama might need her. The healer had said there should always be someone with her in case Mama needed help, but Lila knew she and Papa would have stayed with her no matter what.

She crossed her arms and rested her chin on Mama’s bed. Sleep tugged at her eyelids, but she resisted it. Thoughts ran through her head — their ruined house, the forest, the enchantment. Her life had suddenly been flipped upside down and mixed up into something more chaotic than Lila could ever have imagined. And there was no going back.

A panic seized her. Mama couldn’t die, not yet! There was so much Lila needed to tell her. What if she never got the chance?

“Mama,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes. They were raw from how much she’d cried. “Mama, I’m sorry. I was supposed to be there to help and I wasn’t, and now you’re h-hurt, and …”

Her breath hitched, and she paused for a moment before continuing. “I wasn’t there because I lied to you. I went to the forest when you and Papa were in the capital. I got an enchantment even though Great-Aunt Libby said not to. Papa was wrong, the fairies are real, but they’re scary. And the enchantment messed everything up. I just wanted — ”

Lila paused again. What had she wanted, really? “I just wanted to make you think I wasn’t clumsy or a burden like everyone else does. But it wasn’t right. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

The darkness of the night felt like it was drowning her. Her only lifeline was her mother’s hand. She clung to the heartbeat — it was present, but oh, so faint.

“And now you’re going to — to d-die.”

She’d thought those words before, but she’d never said them aloud. It hurt to hear them spoken. She didn’t want to believe them, she didn’t even want to think them, but saying it made it real.

What would it be like to live without Mama? Already Lila felt her loss like a huge hole inside that was sucking away all her happiness and peace. She clutched her mother’s hand, crying into her elbow.

And then it felt like her mother squeezed her hand back.

Lila stiffened. Was that real? Had she just imagined it?

Before, Mama’s breathing had been regular, though a bit raspy. Now, it had changed. Lila could barely see Mama’s face in the candlelight, but a fragile hope began to grow in her. She sat perfectly still and didn’t dare to move.

Mama squeezed her hand again, and this time it was unmistakable. “Lila,” she whispered in a cracked voice.

Lila sat frozen for a second longer. “Mama? You’re alive!”

“Yes.” Her mother’s voice, though quiet and raspy, was better than birdsong to Lila’s ears. And even though Mama was whispering, the love in her voice was obvious. “Oh, Lila.”

With a start, Lila remembered what the healer had told her. “Wait, Mama, you need some water. Here, let me get you some.” Carefully, she picked the cup up from the table and held it to Mama’s lips.

Mama drank deeply. Lila took the cup away once it was empty; only a little water had spilled. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Mama was alive! She was going to be okay!

But I’m still the reason she got hurt.

That wiped the smile off her face. An anxious feeling came over her, and she sat down.

Mama cleared her throat. “Lila,” she whispered, and her voice was much clearer than before. “I forgive you.”

Lila looked down at her knees. “But — ”

“But what? I love you, Lila. You were wrong to do what you did. You were wrong to go to the forest.”

Lila looked up sharply, surprised Mama had heard her confession. Mama kept going. “But I am your mother, and I love you. You’ve apologized, and you know what you did was wrong. So of course I’m going to forgive you.”

“But I almost killed you,” Lila whispered.

“But I love you anyway.” Mama reached out a hand and stroked Lila’s cheek with trembling fingers. “Did you think we didn’t?”

“I thought — I thought I had to stop being so much of a burden before you could really love me. Stop breaking things and messing everything up.”

“Oh, Lila.” Mama coughed, then cleared her throat. “Lila, your papa and I love you even when you’re clumsy. We only want you to grow into a strong and capable young woman. We don’t want you to be perfectly graceful just like some of the other girls might be.

“You’re graceful already. I’ve seen how you take care of the people around you and want them to be happy. Lila, being graceful with your heart is better than being graceful with your hands and feet.”

Could that be true? Did they really love her like that? Not because of how skilled she was, but because of who she was? Because she was theirs?

That didn’t make sense to her. She’d always been the child everyone in town thought of as a problem, the one who dropped the wool in the mud and tripped over the jump rope and couldn’t get an apprenticeship like the rest of the girls because nobody wanted to take her. She’d never been able to help her parents like she wanted to. She was useless. It didn’t make sense for her parents to love her like that when she couldn’t do anything to deserve it.

But it didn’t have to make sense.

Lila’s face was streaming with tears again. But this time, the tears weren’t from grief or fear. They were from joy.

Papa stirred from the other side of the bed. He lifted his head and sucked his breath in sharply when he saw Mama. “Gretchen! You’re — you’re alive!”

“Yes, I’m alive, Anders.” Mama’s eyes were twinkling. “Just like always.”

“Not like always. We almost lost you.” Papa’s voice was husky and thick. He took Mama’s other hand, the one Lila wasn’t holding. “How do you feel?”

“Happy.”

His face split into a smile. “Do you need water? Should I call the healer?”

“No need.” Mama squeezed both their hands. “Lila’s been taking care of me. Right now all I want is you two.”

Papa took Lila’s hand, and the three of them talked about nothing and everything in the darkness of the healer’s hut. Lila’s face was radiant. They loved her. Mama was going to recover. And everything would be put right again.

Chapter 17

It took nearly a month for Mama to get back to her full strength, but that night was a turning point.

The healer had said she needed to stay in bed for a while longer to heal, but as soon as Mama could walk, it was difficult to keep her inside. She’d go out walking as much as she could, saying that being cooped up inside the hut was worse than being bedridden. “Besides,” she’d add, “I need to make sure my husband and daughter don’t get into any trouble at the house.”

Meanwhile, Lila and Papa decided that under no condition could Mama come near the house while they were still rebuilding it. The final product had to be an absolute surprise. They made a game out of it: Lila would keep watch, and when she saw Mama approaching, she’d run and distract her and try to take her back to the healer’s hut. If Mama left, Lila won. If Mama kept going, Mama won. Lila privately suspected Mama knew all about the game and only left to humor her, but that didn’t matter — the important thing was that the surprise wasn’t spoiled.

And what a surprise it was, too. Lila couldn’t wait for the house to be finished.

Hunter and Great-Aunt Libby had come to Ashbrooke several times after they heard the news of Mama’s injury. Libby had immediately gone in to see her, and Mama had told Lila she’d felt much better after the visit. Hunter had lingered outside. He’d avoided looking at Lila until she pulled him aside and told him how sorry she was and that she’d thrown the necklace away. After that, they were friends again.

Eventually, after several weeks and a lot of hard work, it was time.

Lila walked ahead of her parents on the road. Mama was blindfolded and was leaning heavily on Papa, meaning they were both walking so slowly — Lila wished they’d hurry up so they could arrive sooner.

“Is the blindfold really necessary, Anders?” Mama said to Papa. “I feel like I’m being led on towards my doom.”

“But it’s a surprise, Mama!” Lila called back. “You can’t see what it is ahead of or you’ll ruin it. It has to be a mystery.”

Mama laughed at that, though Lila hadn’t meant it to be funny. “All right, Lila. It’s a mystery.”

They were getting nearer. Lila could see their destination up ahead. “We’re here!” Her heart beat faster with anticipation.

Papa steered Mama to the path in front of the door. With gentle hands, he undid the knot of the blindfold and let it fall to the ground. Mama blinked in the sunlight, then gasped.

The house had finally been completed. It was not one but two stories tall. The frame was made of dark hardwood that Mama and Papa had brought from the city, but it wasn’t the plain wood they had started with. Thin green vines curled up around the beams, reaching as far as the chimney. Silver blossoms sprouted from the twining tendrils and glistened in the sunlight.

They were fairy flowers.

“How?” Mama breathed.

“They just sprouted up.” A note of awe was in Papa’s voice. “They grew from the beanstalk wood in the yard, but we dug them up and planted them by the house. It was Lila’s idea.”

“Really?” Mama looked at Lila with such happiness that it made Lila blush. “They’re lovely, Lila. That was an excellent idea.”

Lila beamed. The flowers were the same as the ones from the forest, the ones Avin had said contained healing powers. Though she wouldn’t ever go back to the forest, she was glad to have a piece of its beauty right where she lived.

“Well?” Papa asked, offering Mama his arm like a prince to his princess on their wedding day. “Shall we see the inside?”

Mama accepted his arm and walked up the neat pathway to the door. Lila followed behind.

The floor was polished hardwood and had been swept perfectly clean, and the furniture was simple but sturdy. Two shuttered windows let in the light, framed by green fabric curtains that Great-Aunt Libby had made for them. Then, there was the part that Lila had found boring, but Papa had insisted was the best part of all — the small brick oven in the corner with an iron door. Papa had made the door in his shop, and it was polished to perfection.

Lila couldn’t stop grinning at the expression on Mama’s face. Her mother took a step inside the house like it was a fairyland. She reached out to touch the wall as if to reassure herself that yes, this was in fact real. “It’s beautiful, Anders,” she said. “How did you manage to …” She trailed off.

Papa finished the sentence. “To afford all this? The golden egg from the Spriggins boy was worth quite a lot, more than I let on in the city. It was enough to buy the basic materials with plenty left over. And you can accomplish a lot if you’re willing to work hard.”

He met Lila’s eyes from across the room and winked. Lila smiled. They had worked hard, and she had been part of it. She hadn’t been left behind because she would make mistakes. She was expected to help, so she helped. That was all there was to it.

It was surprising how simple the solution to such an important problem could be.

“There’s just one more thing,” Papa said. He gestured to an object in the corner, which Lila had insisted they cover with a tablecloth to make it an extra surprise. “Go look at that.”

Mama raised an eyebrow and walked over to the mysterious cloth-draped object. She pulled the tablecloth off, folded it, and set it on the table, and only then did she look at what it had covered.

It was a beautiful spinning wheel, so shiny you could see your face in it, with a carving of flowers up the side.

Mama touched the polished surface. “Oh, Anders! Where did you get this? How did you get this?” If she had been excited earlier, now she was ecstatic.

“Well,” Papa said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I know how much you love spinning. And your old one had been broken. I could have fixed it up, but it wouldn’t work like it used to, so I thought you could use — ”

He cut off as Mama grabbed him in an embrace. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s the most lovely thing I could have asked for.”

Lila was watching them happily when Mama waved for her to join. She ran over but accidentally caught the tablecloth Mama had folded so nicely with her elbow. Carefully, she stooped, picked it up, and set it back where it belonged. That was better. Now was the time for hugs.

Resting in the embrace of her beloved family, Lila felt as though her heart would break from happiness. She’d loved them before, of course, but now she knew just how much she needed them. Their family had almost broken apart. Lila had transformed herself and lost her identity in the process, and Mama had almost died. Papa would have been left all alone. And the togetherness they’d always had would have been completely destroyed.

But it hadn’t been. Everything had turned out well. And they even had their house back, better than before.

It was so amazing that Lila didn’t know how to put it into words.

What would the future look like? She didn’t know. And if she was honest, she didn’t ever want to know. The present was peaceful, and that was enough. Peace was something she hadn’t had for a long time. But here it was.

Her parents loved her. They wouldn’t stop loving her if she failed.

That was peace. That was love.

So Lila let herself rest her head on Papa and Mama and hugged them with all her might. She was part of this family, and she was more grateful for their love than she could ever know.

That was the best grace of all.

The End