Mira Morganstein: The Pink Lemonade Club 007

MMCoverThe old woman had lied.

The fairy doll shed glitter from her glossy pink ringlets like she had a pernicious case of sparkling dandruff. The glue holding the curls to the wooden head was already starting to pull away, and now that Mira was examining it closely, the fairy’s tutu was starting to shred along the edges.

“Bring me good luck?” Mira frowned at the doll lying limp as the dead in her hand. “Not likely.”

But still, there was something about the fairy’s face—two black dots for the eyes and a tiny rosebud mouth—that wouldn’t let her throw it away. A touch of whimsy that made up for peeling glue and clouds of glitter.

Besides, it had only cost her a favor and a quarter.

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The Faerie Thief: The Ruby Queen’s Garden 007

TFTcoverThe top of the door was arched, and the lines simple, but it looked as though someone had dipped a quill with gold faerie dust and sketched a door into the air. Some of the aching in her heart eased, and her breaths didn’t pinch so tight in her chest. If only she knew how to make doors in the real world.

“You’ve forgotten the doorknob,” Lyra whispered, as if the slightest sound could dissolve the magic.

Taking a deep breath, and keeping her eyes open this time, Gwyn held out her hand and brushed her longest finger against the center of the door.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the shimmerings of a knob faded into view.

“Open it.”

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The Curious Leaf: Voyage to the Moon 007

TCL Cover“One is enough to quench any hunger,” the dragon said, its voice strained as though it had been burned away. And rather than the fire Kya had been expecting, great pearly dragon tears welled up in the corners of its eyes and dripped down its cheeks.

Kya shifted nervously in place. She glanced down at Hearthorne, but the faerie-flower still had her petals wrapped up tighter than a locked door.

Tears were better than fire, weren’t they? At least they meant that she wasn’t in any immediate danger of being roasted and eaten, so long as she kept ample distance between herself and the dragon’s teeth glittering like a path of freshly sharpened sword grass. She managed to scoot back a little down the dragon’s flank before it collected itself and the tears stopped falling.

“That leaves one last apple,” it rasped.

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Secrets of the UnderWhere: Welcome to the UnderWhere 006

SotUcover“Wayaway?” the child burbled to the bear who looked even more ragged and wretched in the clear light of the star lamps burning brilliantly all around them.

Wednesday let out a breath and his muscles relaxed. He didn’t like going to the meetings the Lord Mayor liked to hold. Too many speeches about everything and nothing with too little to show for it. Not to mention that the more metropolitan areas of the UnderWhere relied on the wisps for light which meant that, at least part of the time, the bigger cities relied on torches to keep the night at bay. And torches with their greasy red light could hardly compete with the clear milky illumination of his village’s star lamps.

It was good to be home.

Or it would be if he could sneak in and out without alerting any more of his clan.

He just needed to ease the side door open to the storage shed where they kept the spare spare saddles and—

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Mira Morganstein: The Pink Lemonade Club 006

MMCoverRecipe for a See-Poppet

Hair of the one you wish to see

Pixie dust

Dryad heart

Seven Petals—flower for farseeing

Handkerchief

Troll Mucus

A silver needle, bathed in moonlight

Three drops of blood

Instructions

From one dryad’s heart, carve the body of the doll. The fresher the heart, the stronger the spell shall be. It must be a single, continuous piece, nothing missing, not even so much as a sliver.

Once the body has been carved, sew seven petals of the farseeing flower into the hem of the handkerchief.

With the needle, the caster of the spell must prick the finger carrying their own heart’s blood. Deep enough only to draw out three drops of blood which must be caught by the handkerchief. Fashion the handkerchief into clothing for the doll.

Procure a lock of hair of the one the caster wishes to see. Affix the hair to the doll by way of the troll mucus. Have goblin blood on hand in case the need to dissolve some of the mucus should arise.

Last of all, sprinkle the hair with pixie dust. A fresh pinch should do. Too much, and the spell runs the risk of forming a mind—and a will— of its own. Not enough, and the spell shall fall apart.

The doll must be in the possession of the one the caster wishes to see. It must be taken willingly, and for a price. The greater the price, the greater the binding.

As with all magic, the caster must be precise with regard to making the doll. Failure to do so, especially with the pixie dust, can result in a broken spell, magical backlash, and death. Proceed only if none of those are of particular concern.

With love, Mother.

. . .  TO BE CONTINUED . . .

© 2014 by Danyelle Leafty. All rights reserved. Originally published in Curiosities of the Moon.


There is something oddly touching about a mother’s love–especially if your mother happens to be the sort of faerie that tends not to be invited to important functions like christenings, balls, or any other function that requires actual interaction.

Come back next Wednesday to see if something can be salvaged from all this Pink Lemonade mess. After all, a person only becomes eleventy once in their lifetime. Usually. 😉

If this is your first visit here, be sure to read the first installment of this episode. And be sure to come back tomorrow to learn a few more secrets about the UnderWhere.