you. And you'd better keep it a secret."
Mandy looked her fiercest.
"Why?"
She just scowled.
"I will. I promise. But why?"
"I'll tell you. People only like the idea of fairies. When they bump up against a particular, real-as-corn fairy, there's always trouble." She rinsed a platter. "You dry."
"Why?"
"Because the dishes are wet, that's why." She saw my surprised face. "Oh, why is there trouble? Two reasons, mostly. People know we can do magic, so they want us to solve their problems for them. When we don't, they get mad. The other reason is we're immortal. That gets them mad too. Lady wouldn't speak to me for a week when her father died."
"Why doesn't Lucinda care if people know she's a fairy?"
"She likes them to know, the fool. She wants them to thank her when she gives them one of her awful gifts."
"Are they always awful?"
"Always. They are always awful, but some people are delighted to have a present from a fairy, even if it makes them miserable."
"Why did Mother know you're a fairy? Why do I know?"
"All the Eleanor line are Friends of the Fairies. You have fairy blood in you."
Fairy blood! "Can I do magic? Shall I live forever? Would Mother have if she hadn't gotten sick? Are there many Friends of the Fairies?"
"Very few. You're the only one left in Kyrria. And no, love, you can't do magic or live forever. It's just a drop of fairy blood. But there's one way it has already started to show. Your feet haven't grown for a few years, I'll warrant."
"None of me has grown for a few years."
"The rest of you will soon enough, but you'll have fairy feet, like your mother did." Mandy lifted the hems of her skirt and five petticoats to reveal feet that were no longer than mine. "We're too tall for our feet. It's the only thing we can't change by magic. Our men stuff their shoes so no one can tell, and we ladies hide them under our skirts."
I stuck a foot out of my gown. Tiny feet were fashionable, but would they make me even clumsier as I grew taller? Would I be able to keep my balance?
"Could you make my feet grow if you wanted to? Or..." I searched for another miracle. Rain pelted the window. "Or could you stop the rain?"
Mandy nodded.
"Do it. Please do it."
"Why would I want to?"
"For me. I want to see magic. Big magic."
"We don't do big magic. Lucinda's the only one. It's too dangerous."
"What's dangerous about ending a storm?"
"Maybe nothing, maybe something. Use your imagination."
"Clear skies would be good. People could go outside."
"Use your imagination," Mandy repeated.
I thought. "The grass needs rain. The crops need rain."
"More," Mandy said.
"Maybe a bandit was going to rob someone, and he isn't doing it because of the weather."
"That's right. Or maybe I'd start a drought, and then I'd have to fix that because I started it. And then maybe the rain I sent would knock down a branch and smash in the roof of a house, and I'd have to fix that too."
"That wouldn't be your fault. The owners should have built a stronger roof."
"Maybe, maybe not. Or maybe I'd cause a flood and people would be killed.
That's the problem with big magic. I only do little magic. Good cooking, my curing soup, my Tonic."
"When Lucinda cast the spell on me, was that big magic?"
"Of course it was. The numskull!" Mandy scoured a pot so hard that it clattered and banged against the copper sink.
"Tell me how to break the spell. Please, Mandy."
"I don't know how. I only know it can be done."
"If I told Lucinda how terrible it is, would she lift the spell, do you think?"
"I doubt it, but maybe. Then again, she might take away one spell and give you another even worse. The trouble with Lucinda is, ideas pop into her head and come out as spells."
"What does she look like?"
"Not like the rest of us. But you'd better hope you never lay eyes on her."
"Where does she live?" I asked. If I could find her, maybe I could persuade her to lift my curse. After all, Mandy could be wrong.
"We're not on speaking terms. I don't keep track of the whereabouts of Lucinda the Idiot. Watch that bowl!"
The order came too late. I got the broom. "Are all Friends clumsy?"
"No, sweet. Fairy blood does not make you clumsy. That's human. You don't see me dropping plates, do you?"
I started to sweep, but it wasn't necessary. The pieces of