The Singing Campground Part Six

            “T-the queen! She sent us back!” Lilly managed to choke out, her heart jumping into her throat.

            “No!!!!” Nettle roared, dropping a large duffle bag on the ground. Thorn and the children growled, exposing pointy teeth. There was nothing human about those expressions. They rushed toward Lilly and her family with their backpacks raised as weapons.

            “Out of here,” Dad shouted, grabbing the twins and dashing across the clearing.

            “Stop!” Thorn commanded. Lilly and her family froze in place.

            What are they going to do to us? she thought to Willow.

            Probably turn us into trees. No one would even notice if there were four more trees in this forest, Willow thought back.

            Not helpful, Lilly replied. She would have burst into tears if only she could move. At least she could still breathe. Of course, at that moment, she had a tremendous itch on her nose. A rustling sound made her forget about it.

            A female faery with two children entered the clearing. She wore long white braids and was dressed for hiking with boots, a broad-brimmed hat, and a backpack. The faery children’s heads were capped with curly white hair, and they looked very young, not more than two and four years old. They held their mother’s hands and stared at Lily and Willow with eyes wide as a full moon. A male faery followed her, carrying a larger backpack.

            “What is this all about?” the male faery said. “Is there a problem with the portal?”

            Thorn spread her arms wide. “Just a broken spell. You know how these things happen. We will get it working immediately.”

            The female faery frowned. “I hope so. We must return in time for my Herbcraft class. My students depend on me.”

            Nettle stood in front of where the portal had been, spreading his arms wide and muttering in his own language. After three attempts, he shouted, “The human broke the portal!”

            “Leth uss go,” Mom said, straining against her frozen lips. Lilly could see Mom’s eyes were sparking with anger, even if she couldn’t move her face. Dad was turned away from them, frozen in mid-step. She hoped he wouldn’t fall on his face.

            “I’ve got this.” Thorn pushed past Nettle and sprinkled white powder onto the ground. She spit on it and mumbled singsong words.

Nothing happened.

“Damn you, Aster!” Nettle said, shaking his fist at the sky.

“Curse that wicked queen!” Thorn said. “When we get back, I will personally tear her heart out and serve it for dessert. Over sponge cake with whipped crème.”

Lily’s heart was racing. What can we do?” she thought to Willow.
            Although he couldn’t turn, his eyes attempted to meet hers. Don’t worry. You’ll think of something. You always do.

            “First things first,” Nettle said. He waved his hand, spoke a few words, and Lilly’s parents turned into rabbits. They sat back on their haunches, sniffed the air, before hopping into the dense underbrush of the forest. Then he released Lilly and Willow.

            Lilly itched her nose furiously.

            “Twins are too valuable to waste,” he said to their friends with a shrug. “We’ll take them home with us.”

            “Turn our parents back!” Lilly said. “We had to do what the queen told us. We had no choice.” She pulled away from Rudy who had grabbed her arm.

            Two of the other faery children held Willow between them. Their sharp fingernails dug into his arms, causing him to yelp in pain.

            Yeow! These little buggers are strong! he thought to Lilly.

            We need to get Mom and Dad back! Lilly thought to her brother. She tried to remember the faery tales Mom told them at bedtime. Faeries like to trade. We’ve got to think of something we can bargain with.

            The faeries dragged Willow and Lilly to the campfire circle. Nettle and Thorn sat down across from them.

            “We can reopen the portal with our own magic,” Lilly said.

            “Magic? We don’t have any magic!” Willow protested.

Lilly exchanged a look with him. We’re talking to each other in our minds. That’s magic. I think we can do more.

“Twin magic is extremely powerful,” Thorn said. “Especially since your visit to Faerie. No doubt you’re starting to experience some of the effects.”

 “We’ll fix the portal if you change our parents back,” Lilly said. “Promise. Promise you will return our parents to human form. Three times I ask this.” She remembered that faeries couldn’t lie, and they took their bargains seriously. Also, asking three times was binding.

“Agreed, agreed, and agreed,” Thorne said. She pulled some herbs out of her pouch and mixed them in a bowl. Rudy poured liquid from a vial into the mixture and a strong licorice smell filled the air.

“This porridge will strengthen and focus your magic so it can be used,” she said, handing the bowl to Lilly. “Take two bites and pass it to your brother.”

Lilly hesitated as she looked at the grey, lumpy mass in the bowl. What if I throw it all up? she thought to her brother.

            “Just do it,” Willow said. “How bad can it be?” He took the bowl and tasted some from the spoon. He worked hard to keep his face neutral. It tastes like Aunt Gertie’s rice pudding.

            That bad, Lilly thought back. She took the bowl and downed two spoonfuls. Then she handed it back to Thorn. Other than her churning stomach, she didn’t feel any different.

            “Come, children, we have work to do,” Thorn said. She led them back over the original portal’s location. “Close your eyes. Both eyes, young manchild. Think about our castle in Faerie. This should not be difficult because you have actually been there. Think about the bedchambers you woke up in. Think about the delicious food Cook prepared for you.”

            “I’ll never forget that French toast,” Willow said. “Why couldn’t your potion taste like that?”

            “Focus!” Thorn snapped at him. “When you have anchored the location in your minds, then think about building a bridge from here to that place in Faerie.”

            “What kind of bridge? Wood or stone?” Lilly asked.

            “I want to make one of those hanging rope bridges,” Willow said.

            “It doesn’t MATTER what type of bridge! It’s only a symbol, a device to make a portal,” Nettle shouted.

            “Settle down, my love. They are only children,” Thorn soothed him.

            Lilly thought about a bridge to Faerie. In her mind, she saw it like a storybook bridge, old stone and arched. Wide enough for a horse and wagon. She sent the image to her brother.

            Looks sturdy, he thought back to her.

            As Lilly focused on the bridge and the castle back in Faerie, the forest grew silent around her. Her mind started to feel fuzzy, like after she’d spent too much time in the sun.

            How long do you think we have to do this? Willow thought at her.

            How should I know? she thought back at him.

            “It is finished!” Thorn shouted and the twins opened their eyes. In front of them was the familiar swirling circle they had been dragged through the first time.

            “Brilliant work!” Thorn and Nettle’s friend, the male faery, said. “Quickly, let us leave.”

            “Come on now. Don’t dawdle. The portal will only stay open a short time,” Thorn said, lining up her children. She gestured toward their friends and their children.

            Lilly tugged at her arm. “Wait a minute! You said you’d restore our parents!”

            Thorn nodded. “Of course.” She flicked her fingers, and Mom and Dad came crashing out of the bushes, crawling on all fours. They stopped, looked at each other, and quickly jumped to their feet.

            “Now look here, Thorn!” Dad said. “We have no magic! Let us go at once!”

            Thorn and Nettle glanced at the twins. “You have more magic than you know. But do not fret. The portal is open once more. We will bid you farewell.” And with that, the faeries jumped through the portal before it closed.

            “I’m hungry!” Willow said.

            Lilly’s stomach gurgled in agreement. “Me, too.”

            Mom gave them a weary, relieved smile. “Let’s go back to the campsite and grill up some burgers.”

            “And share scary stories around the campfire,” Dad said. When he saw the twins terrified expressions, he added, “Or maybe just regular stories tonight.”

            As they followed their parents out of the forest and back into the campground, Lilly thought she heard faint strains of singing coming out of the woods. Do you hear that music? she thought at Willow.

            Yeah, he thought back, but I’ve had enough exploring for one day.    

            Lilly checked her jacket pocket for the small jar of the remaining potion Thorn had made them eat. It was sealed with a wax ring.

In the distance, she was certain she heard the delicate peal of children’s laughter.

The singing campground: Part 2

“Let go! Got to get a video of this!” Willow tried to pull his arm and phone out of Lilly’s grip

“Shush! They’ll hear us.” She dragged him back into the surrounding trees. The clearing in front of them was a large circle, too perfect to have been formed by nature. But it wasn’t the clearing that raised the goosebumps on her arms.

They both stood there staring like mannequins in a store window. From the singing, Lilly had expected to see real people, sitting around a campfire. But this wasn’t a regular campsite. And the fire was not in a campground fire pit. She was certain that was against the rules. Mom always read the rules to them when they stayed at a new place.

Willow, his head full of stories about the campers lost in a wildfire years ago, expected to have his first glimpse of ghosts.

Neither twin saw what they expected.

Furry, red foxes with white faces, holding sticks in their hands (paws) and roasting marshmallows over a blue fire. Lilly knew fires were not usually blue, except natural gas flames under a stove. This was a blue fire coming out of a huge stack of logs piled in log cabin style.

And the foxes must have heard them arguing, because they stopped singing, and looked toward the trees where they crouched.

“Awesome!” Willow whisper-shouted. “They’re foxes!”

“What should we do?” Lilly asked, being the more practical twin.

At that moment, one of the larger foxes set its stick down on a rock, making sure that the partially browned marshmallow didn’t touch the ground. It walked on its back legs a few steps towards them.

“Come out from the trees, human kits,” it said in a low-pitched, deep voice. Lilly’s mouth dropped open. The voice was so human that if she wasn’t watching the words come out of the fox’s snout, she would be certain it was an adult man.

“Run!” Lilly grabbed her brother’s arm.

“Not only can they roast marshmallows, but they can talk!” Willow said, his smile ear to ear. “I want to meet them.”

“We should go. Mom said not to talk to strangers.”

“Strangers are human, silly. These are foxes. That can talk.”

“Come into the clearing,” the fox said. “We are eager to meet you. Did you hear our song?”

“Yes, we heard it,” Willow said. “It was awesome. We wanted to see who was singing it. Are you ghosts?”

The small foxes laughed, and it sounded like water tinkling on glass. Another large fox came near, standing by the first one.

“No, we are quite alive,” the second fox said in a high feminine voice. “But our true natures are concealed by glamour. Those who don’t hear our song, see only normal foxes in the woods.”

“If you’re not foxes, what, or who, are you?” Lilly asked.

The female fox gestured toward the campfire. “See for yourselves. We intend no harm toward you.”

Willow and Lilly looked at each other. When Mom had gone over all the rules about camping, she had not told them what to do when encountering magical talking foxes who ate marshmallows.

“Don’t be a baby, Lilly,” Willow said, making the decision for them both. He pushed her into the clearing where they took seats on large fallen logs around the roaring campfire. One of the smaller foxes handed each of them a carved stick with two marshmallows stuck on top.

“If this is one of those faerie tales, we really shouldn’t eat any food they offer us,” Lilly whispered to her brother.

“It’s only marshmallows,” Willow said. He thrust his stick into the fire. His marshmallows were a burning torch in seconds.

“That’s not the way to roast them,” Lilly said. She carefully dangled her stick at the edge of the fire, avoiding the strange blue flames. After a few minutes, she turned her stick. The side of her marshmallows facing the fire had turned golden brown.

“That’s the proper way to do it,” the largest of the small foxes said. “You can call me Rudy. What do you call yourselves?” The fox licked the gooey white from his claws. The other small foxes huddled together, staring at them with unblinking black eyes.

“I’m Willow, and this is Lilly,” her brother said. “We’re twins.”

“How delightful!” the older female fox said. She shared a knowing glance with the male fox, and then handed Willow two graham crackers and a piece of chocolate. After putting it together like a sandwich, he ate it quickly.

“Mmmm. This is delicious,” he mumbled with his mouth full.

Lilly was still not sure whether she should eat her perfectly roasted treat. She watched her brother, holding her breath. If something went wrong, she would grab him and run back to their campsite.

Willow jumped up from the log. “I can see you!” he shouted to Rudy. “You’re not a fox. You’re a boy!”

Lilly stared at her brother in horror. Did the food do something to him?

“Don’t worry. Your brother was not poisoned by our s’mores. When a visitor eats with us, they can see who we really are,” Rudy said. “Go ahead, eat it. You’ll see.”

She slowly pulled the marshmallow off the stick. Its crunchy gooey sweetness exploded in her mouth. It was the best roasted marshmallow she had ever tasted. As she swallowed it, her eyes were opened.

The foxes around the campfire were replaced by slender people dressed in various shades of brown and green. Two of them looked like adults and the rest were children of various ages from around four to twelve. Rudy looked like the oldest. They could have passed for survivalists living in the woods except for their long pointed ears that poked out from their silky dark brown hair.

“You’re faeries!” Lilly gasped.

“Summer Court, to be exact,” the father said. “You can call me Nettle. This is my wife, Thorn. You’ve already met Rudy. The others are Loden, Sunny, Tawny, and Golden.” The faeries nodded as Nettle named them.

Willow frowned. “What are you doing out here? Don’t faeries live in a different realm?”

Thorn smiled. Her glowing emerald green eyes framed by waves of shimmering dark brown hair were so lovely that Lilly and Willow’s hearts felt like they would break. “We’re camping. Like you and your family are,” she said.

Lilly pushed out of her mind the faery’s radiating bliss. From the books she’d read, she knew faeries were tricky and not usually nice to humans. Leaving right now would be the reasonable thing to do.

“Nice to meet all of you. Willow and I have to go now. Dad needs us to help with dinner.” She tried to pull her brother away, but he shook her off.

“Is there a portal around here?” he said, looking around. The surrounding woods, other than the perfect campfire clearing, looked like normal trees. There was no hint of magic.

“Sit down,” the mother said. “It is a long tale, but I would tell it to you.”

Willow sat back down on the log. Lilly sighed but joined him anyway. Her brother had no common sense whatsoever. She felt like she was born as his twin so that she could keep him out of trouble.

Sometimes it worked.

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