Midsummer's Mayhem

by Rajani LaRocca

  “Don’t smile at me! You’ve been lying this whole time! What do you want? Just give Dad back!”

  Vik sighed. “I don’t have your dad.”

  I glared at him. “Then explain why you’ve been gathering information all this time, learning everything about my family? I thought it was because of the stupid baking contest,” I growled, “but now I see it’s because you wanted to get your hands on Dad. Why? Because you miss your own dad? Would having a dad would make you feel more like a ‘regular’ person? What do you want with him, Puck?”

  “Stop calling me Puck.”

  “Right. Your name is Vik, or Guy, or whatever. And you’re just an ordinary boy. Liar.”

  “I deserve that.” He cast his gaze down briefly, but then he looked me in the eye. “It’s Vik. For real. I told you the truth.”

  “You’ve lied the whole time! You pretended you were a boy, and that you were here visiting your aunt Tanya!”

  “I am visiting my aunt Tanya. But you’re right. I’m not just a boy.”

  “You’re a fairy!”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “I guess I am.”

  “You guess? You’ve been playing that fairy song all summer—”

  “Well, to be precise, it wasn’t originally a fairy song—”

  “And you took me to magical parts of the woods, and showed me all those herbs and flowers—”

  “True.”

  “And you’ve been pretending to be my friend so you could take Dad and turn him into your fairy dad or whatever!”

  Vik shook his head. “Didn’t your dad start acting strange before we’d even met?”

  “Yeah, but you could have cast a spell on him before that.” I snapped my fingers. “He’s been running in the woods! That’s when you cast your spells!”

  “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with your dad until you told me. And I listened to you talking about your family because I liked you and I wanted to be your friend. I still do.” His eyes glittered gold in the moonlight.

  “If you’re not Puck, then who are you?”

  “I told you my story,” Vik said.

  My mind raced to remember the details of the play. It had to be connected—there were too many similarities to be a coincidence. “You told me your mom and dad died, and Aunt Tanya took you in.” I gasped. “Aunt Tanya—Titania! Otherwise known as . . . Mrs. T?”

  Vik nodded.

  The shock of recognition rang through me like a bell.

  “A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king; She never had so sweet a changeling,” I whispered.

  Vik smiled. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

  “Shakespeare’s story? It was real?”

  “He embellished it, changed some of the details. My father wasn’t a king, but he was Indian. I guess it was hard to rhyme changeling with teacher. And although King Oberon tricked Queen Titania into giving me up temporarily, she got me back pretty fast. She loved my mother too much to give me up forever. If you learn anything about that guy Shakespeare, it should be that he pretty much borrowed every tale he told, but retold it so beautifully that his version’s the only one that anyone remembers.”

  “But that means that . . . you’re really old!”

  Vik snorted. “It’s relative. I am the youngest fairy.”

  I blinked. This was like hearing that Cinderella and Little Red Riding Hood were real.

  “This whole thing started because of the Midsummer’s Wager.” Vik stood and started pacing on the branch like he was on the ground instead of twenty feet in the air.

  “Am I supposed to know what that means?” I asked.

  “A wager is a bet. Each summer, Aunt Tanya and her husband wager on something. It’s usually something ridiculous. They’re always arguing.”

  “And the baking contest was part of it?”

  Vik nodded. “It was supposed to help Aunt Tanya win, by making the While Away as successful as possible. All of us were supposed to help, but I was tired of wasting every summer trying to win another idiotic bet. We fairies have plenty of important work to do, guarding the wild places of the world and helping them thrive, in addition to other duties. So I kind of . . . went on strike. I refused to bake anything for the While Away, putting Aunt Tanya at a severe disadvantage since Peaseblossom and the others know nothing about baking.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “No kidding. The first things I tried there looked delicious but tasted disgusting.”

  “But then you showed up, Mimi, and I remembered not only how much I love baking, but also that I owe a debt to Aunt Tanya—who, vain and selfish as she can be, has always loved me and treated me like a son. I realized I should help her. So I took your Puffy Fay cookbook and brought it to Peaseblossom and the other fairies. I gave you The Book, to help you succeed. I encouraged you in your baking, hoping you would drum up enthusiasm for the While Away and help Aunt Tanya win the wager. I even relented on my strike and offered to bake for Aunt Tanya, but she was still angry at me, and refused.”

  “That’s why you were so mad that day—the day I ran into the cobra . . . the cobra! Why are there cobras in these woods?”

  “Look around you, Mimi. You’re in a banyan tree.”

  “So?” But even as I said it, I realized. I touched the branch gently. “Banyans don’t grow in Massachusetts, do they?”

  Vik shook his head.

  “How is this here, then?”

  “This banyan is in India. On the outskirts of my old village, in fact. And so is the pitta, and the boar, and the cobra. So are we.”

  I held on tight to prevent myself from plummeting to the ground. “You mean—”

  “When you hear my song, or sing it, you can go through the gate that divides all parts of The Wild—all the natural places in the world—from each other. You can go anywhere in the world. You got to visit my woods.”

  I couldn’t say a word.

  “When I saw you had accidentally enchanted your brother and your friends, and then cured them, I realized there was more to you than just a talented young baker. And although I used to find the troubles of humans amusing, you showed me how much the confusion we cause with our fairy interference can hurt people. I wanted to tell you the truth, Mimi. I wanted to reveal what I was. I was going to show you, that last day we saw each other before the contest.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  “You were right,” Vik said quietly. “About us being related. I lost my parents and my sister. But my sister had children, and they had children, and they had children . . . and my mother’s song must have been passed on.”

  I braced myself against the trunk to stop myself from shaking. It didn’t work. I was related to a fairy! How could that be?

  “Once you told me about the song, how it’s been in your family, too—I realized who you were. But then you showed me that fine print on the contest poster, and I knew Aunt Tanya wasn’t going to give you a choice. She was going to trick you. So I had to stop you from winning the contest.”

  “But—”

  “Even after I told you not to enter, that you weren’t talented enough, I knew you’d try anyway, because you’re so smart, and so strong.” The words poured out of him. “So I sabotaged you. I switched your sugar for salt, but you figured it out. I had to bake my best, my heart’s work, to beat you. You sure didn’t make it easy! Your kulfi cream puffs were full of warm energy, and I was so nervous the luck from your friendship cupcakes would make you win.”

  My mind whirled. Vik did love my baking! But he’d also lied, schemed, and cheated to ruin my chance to work with Puffy Fay . . . because he thought Mrs. T was trying to trick me? None of it made sense. “What does the contest have to do with any of this?”

  “I realized Aunt Tanya wasn’t just out to win her wager with Oberon. She wanted—”

  “My dad. I know.” I pulled on my hair and stared into the night. I guess I could forgive Vik for hurting me, since he was trying to save Dad. “Where would Mrs. T be hiding him?” I gasped and lo
oked at Vik. “He’s at the While Away, isn’t he?”

  “He must be,” Vik said.

  I laughed. “Thanks, my great-great-great-many-times-great-grand-uncle.”

  Vik gave a barklike laugh. “Why don’t you just call me your friend? You’re the best one I’ve found in hundreds of years. I’ve been lonely, Mimi. But not anymore.” His eyes sparkled with more than moonlight.

  I stood on the branch and prepared to climb down.

  “Mimi, you must understand—one cannot be forced to join the Fair Folk. One must choose. And one must give something. Heart’s work. Remember the stories we read together.”

  “Dad’s not going to choose to leave us, not unless he’s been enchanted into—”

  Vik shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. Fairy magic can cause a change of heart—an infatuation, or temporary sleep, forgetfulness—but a human cannot be enchanted into joining the Fair Folk.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” I said.

  “Except tonight.”

  I shuddered. “Because it’s Midsummer’s Eve?”

  “Yes. The one night a year when fairy enchantments are binding. At midnight, they become permanent.”

  I shoved my hair out of my eyes. “We’d better get going.”

  A trumpeting call ripped through the air, followed by a scream.

  I looked at Vik in horror.

  “This way!” came a faint voice. “Jules, get behind that tree!” Was that Henry?

  “Is . . . is that an elephant?” I asked Vik.

  “We are in a forest in India. Your brother and sisters must have slipped through while I played the song.”

  Another scream.

  “We’ve got to help them!” I cried. I scrambled down the tree with Vik right behind me. “They’re looking for me! I can’t let them get hurt!”

  “Time is running out. Go to your father.”

  “But—”

  “Go!” Vik gestured. “It’s okay, I’ll protect your siblings.” He pulled the wooden pipe out of his pocket.

  I turned to go, but Vik put his hand on my arm. “You have magic, too, Mimi. Use it. And whatever Aunt Tanya tells you, don’t eat or drink anything.”

  I nodded and plunged into the woods.

  CHAPTER 28

  THE INVITATION

  I raced down the path to my hangout.

  “Wish me luck, Emma,” I called as I hurtled past it.

  I ran to the edge of the woods and over the bridge for the second time that day.

  How do you fight a fairy? I had no idea.

  I took a deep breath, opened the door, and entered the While Away Café.

  Moonlight painted every surface in silver, a secret forest hideaway. Dad sat at a table elegantly set for three. He was surrounded by a multitude of baked goods and gold-dusted chocolates. He barely chewed before stuffing more in his mouth. His eyes glowed an unearthly purple.

  “Dad!” I rushed to him and grabbed his arm. “Dad, come home with me.”

  He pulled away and reached for a streusel-topped muffin. “But these are so scrumptious,” he said around a crumbly mouthful.

  “I see I finally have your attention,” came a musical voice.

  Mrs. T stepped into a ray of moonlight, and I had to catch my breath. She wore a gossamer gown that looked like it was filled with stars.

  “Please return my dad to normal, Mrs. T—I mean, Queen Titania,” I said. “You can’t just ruin someone’s whole life—not over a bet.”

  Titania’s laugh sounded like a running brook. She still had the pink rose tucked behind her ear. “Please, my dear Mimi. Do have a seat. Let’s discuss this over refreshments.”

  “I don’t want any.”

  “As you wish.” Titania shrugged and sat next to Dad. She sipped delicately at a goblet full of golden liquid. “Mimi, this is not just any bet. It is the Midsummer’s Wager, a most ancient tradition.” She paused and lifted a shapely eyebrow. “Drinking morning dew from a flower petal is refreshing—but tasty? Not really. One can only partake of berries, nuts, and herbs for so long before growing tired of them. And I have been tired of them for a long, long time. I do not need to eat for sustenance, of course, but it is so delightful to eat for pleasure. And the best food, of course, is always sweet.” She picked up a chocolate chip cookie and nibbled on it.

  What did this have to do with Dad? “But—”

  “Mimi, Mimi. I thought you, of all people, would understand. Sweet is infinitely superior to savory. That is what I intend to prove to my dear husband this summer.”

  “That’s the Midsummer’s Wager?”

  Titania nodded her lovely head. “Oberon does not agree with me, so we decided to have a competition this summer. I would serve up the most delectable sweets, and he would do the same with savory treats. Humans would choose between them, and the most successful store at the end of the summer would win.”

  “So the Salt Shaker is Oberon’s?” I remembered Darla and her mom standing in line and their strange obsession with potato chips.

  “Yes, and I hear it’s doing quite well, curse him! Of course, he did not lose his right-hand man this summer, like I did. Vik has caused a great deal of trouble.”

  “Yeah, he caused me a lot of trouble.”

  Titania ignored me. “Has it ever occurred to you why so many famous, fabulously successful people have come from this little town?”

  I looked at her blankly.

  “Comity has always been a stronghold of the Fair Folk. We have blessed this town with our presence, and we have left a lingering magic in the woods for hundreds of years. This is why the Midsummer’s Wager matters so much!”

  “But I don’t—”

  “What qualities would you like to flourish here, Mimi? Music? Art? Baking? This is what my presence brings to this town. Or would you rather have math geniuses, scientific inspirations, and sports successes? This is what my husband’s presence brings.” She flared her nostrils in disdain.

  “That doesn’t sound so—”

  “Understand, Mimi. The loser of the Midsummer’s Wager will be banished from this place for two hundred years. Two hundred years without brilliance in art, music, or culinary skills emerging from this town! A blink of the eye for the Fair Folk, but more than two lifetimes for mortals.”

  I could see her point. But then I glanced at Dad gorging himself. I grabbed two heavily laden platters of baked goods from the table and dumped them in a trash can in the corner of the room before hurrying back. “But what does this have to do with my dad?”

  Titania rested her chin on her fingers. “It was never meant for him, you know. It’s all your fault.”

  “My fault?” I stopped with my hand hovering over another platter.

  “The chocolate, Mimi. The one I gave you when you first came here. You were the one who was supposed to eat it. It was supposed to make you want to come back here. I wanted your baking talent to make the While Away successful. But you gave the chocolate to your father instead.”

  “Why would you want to make me unable to tell good food from bad? Why would you want me to eat everything in sight?”

  Titania leaned closer. “The chocolate wouldn’t have done that. But you touched it, and you cast your own spell upon it.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous, I can’t cast spells!”

  “Can’t you?” Titania looked at me coolly. “Are you sure?”

  I blinked and tried to remember. “I did take the chocolate out of its box to look at it, and I remember thinking . . . I hoped that Dad wouldn’t be too picky about it. I wanted him to like your food so he’d let me enter the contest.”

  “Aha! I knew it!” Titania cried.

  “But . . . that’s why he ate everything in sight and couldn’t identify any flavors?” I was so stunned that I sank into the nearest chair. “It was me?”

  “And Vik tells me you used honeysuckle cookies to enchant an entire group of young humans, and then put them all back to normal with gotu kola brownies.”
<
br />   I nodded slowly. “It was the magical plants in the forest.” I shuddered as Dad attacked a lemon meringue pie.

  Titania shook her head. “The plants aren’t magical by themselves, Mimi. You are.”

  “That’s impossible,” I said.

  I pulled on my hair and tried to think. Mom and I had tasted the honeysuckle, and nothing happened to us. Nothing had happened until I baked with the honeysuckle . . . when I wished that everyone would love each other! I gaped at Mrs. T.

  “See? In your heart, you know it is true.”

  “So you’re telling me I can do what you do?” I sniffed at the goblet in front of me and then set it aside.

  Titania leaned toward me. “The Fair Folk can influence humans through food, but it is imperfect,” she said. She let out a short breath. “Possibly because humans are imperfect. One never knows exactly how our enchanted food will make a human act.”

  I regarded her dubiously.

  “Oh, Vik is better than most. That is because he is so young . . . the youngest of my retinue. He remembers what it is like, to be human. But it is a very inexact science. Take, for example, Chef Fay. I gave him my special chocolate and asked him to come judge the contest.”

  “Which he did,” I said.

  Titania raised a finger. “He judged the contest, but he was completely unruly and wouldn’t listen to my . . . suggestions. You were supposed to win.”

  My stomach sank even further. I thought I’d made it to the Bake-Off on my own. “Why would you rig the contest?”

  “Never doubt, dear Mimi, that you had the baking skills to win on your own. But once I understood what you could do, this became much bigger than the Midsummer’s Wager. Methinks this one will save us all from ruin. That’s what I said, when I tasted those genius chocolate-thyme-tangerine cookies. You are exactly what I need,” said Titania.

  She didn’t want Dad. She wanted me.

  “Why?” I asked.

  Titania rose so I had to look up at her. She seemed eight feet tall. “You have the magical ability to bake with plants and herbs and make humans do exactly what you intend. You’re the best I’ve ever seen! Better, perhaps, than Vik.”