Marigold tried to redeem herself. “I know, Granny, it’s because of the brownies, and—”
Granny interrupted, “Not just the brownies, girl. The wand could end up in the hands of humans.”
“Humans?” Marigold had never thought of that. Humans were in an entirely different world. A world that was difficult to get to and that she never planned on visiting if she could help it. Why should she worry about humans getting ahold of her wand?
Suddenly the room became cold, and the fire sputtered as if it might go out. Granny whispered in a raspy voice, “Come closer, child.” Marigold knelt beside the old cabbage while Lightning crept forward to listen as well.
“If your wand ever got into the hands of a human, something terrible could happen.”
“What?” Marigold whispered.
Granny refused to say. “Never mind what!” The old cabbage rose stiffly and hobbled over to her shelf. She absently held her chin in one hand while the other hand lightly brushed over the objects: a baseball, a rag doll, a stuffed bear, a snow globe. There were too many to count.
Marigold craned her neck to see. “What are all those things?”
“It’s my collection—gifts from friends of mine when I was exactly your age.” Granny had a faraway look in her eyes as she spoke. She paused at an empty spot on the shelf. “But there’s one missing.” She sighed and shuffled back to her seat. “My collection will never be complete now.”
“Why not?” Marigold asked.
Granny waved the question away. “Just remember, Marigold, don’t ever lose your magic wand.”
“I—I promise.” Marigold gripped the wand now with all her might. “I won’t rely on Lightning to keep track of it. . . . I’ll be more careful.” She raised her eyes to see the light from the star still blinking. “I’ll even try harder to learn to fly and get my spells right.” Marigold bit her lip. “It’s just that— Oh, Granny.” She sighed. “Even if I do learn to fly and stop making so many mistakes with my spells, everyone still expects me to become something so great. . . .” Marigold’s voice faded.
The room was quiet except for the sound of the crackling fire. The old cabbage lady smiled softly. “You’re a great friend, Marigold.”
“What’s so great about being a great friend?” Marigold asked.
“Everything.” Granny smiled. She studied Marigold for such a long time that Marigold and Lightning exchanged worried glances. Then Granny nodded as if she had just made up her mind about something. “You do not have five problems!” she announced. “You only have one!”
“W-what is it?” Marigold stammered. She was almost afraid to ask.
“You have a magic power . . . and you need to discover what it is.” Then Granny reached under her shawl and took out a small book. It was worn and curled at the edges, but there was no mistaking the title written in gold leaf on the cover: Bramblycrumbly Book of Spells. “This was mine when I was your age.” She tapped the top of the book with a finger. “Everything you need to help you discover your magic power is right in here.”
“But Granny—” Marigold wasn’t convinced. “You’ve just given me another problem. Now I have six—”
“No,” Granny insisted. “You have only one problem!” She rose from her chair, signaling the end of the conversation.
Marigold didn’t dare say another word.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now, dearie?” the old cabbage said in a sweeter tone, and then she pressed the book of spells into Marigold’s hand.
4
10 Wigglyrambly Way
Marigold walked slowly down the lane toward home with Lightning at her side. She passed little bungalows, in front of which thick ivy and brambly vines covered picket fences and trellised gates. One home was in the shape of an acorn; another looked like a giant pumpkin; yet another, a gourd; there was even a house in the shape of an enormous mushroom sprouting out of the ground. Marigold and Lightning lived in the last house, 10 Wigglyrambly Way, which looked like a teapot. When they got close, there was no mistaking the loathsome sound of a wailing baby.
Petal. Who else?
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” Marigold called as soon as she passed through the Dutch door into the kitchen. The kitchen was a round room with stone walls and two round windows. Pots and pans hung from iron hooks that stuck out of wooden beams in the ceiling.
Petal howled her head off, locked into her high chair, which hovered three feet off the floor. Her father, Horace, looked on, scowling. Dressed in a long gray robe with an ample hood, he was a weather wizard with periwinkle-blue eyes that could stop a howling blizzard with an icy stare or create a small tornado in a mason jar with a blink. The only thing he seemed powerless over was his baby daughter, Petal.
“WAAAAAAAAH!” Her face was an angry red, her mouth a black, gaping hole. Her feet kicked, and her tiny hands, balled up into mighty fists, pounded the air.
Marigold’s mother, Tulip, stood with her arms folded. She had short-cropped hair like the pixies—that was a popular style in Bramblycrumbly. The front of her gossamer gown was spotted with mashed yam, and her crystal tiara teetered to one side. She pushed it into place with the back of her hand. “I told you, Horace, she doesn’t like the Levitating High Chair Spell.”
“She liked it yesterday,” Horace said defensively. He flicked a large clump of yam off his sleeve.
Tulip shook her head. “No, dear—that was the Soaring Spoon Spell, remember?”
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” Marigold repeated.
“They’re not going to hear you, you know,” Lightning said. He opened the cupboard and took out a bowl. “I’m starving,” he muttered.
Marigold could see it was going to be another night of cereal for dinner, and she got busy making a bowl for herself as well.
“WAH! WAH! WAAAAAAAAH!” Petal screamed.
“Look, honey bunny,” Tulip called. She snapped her fingers, and a silver spoon sparkled into view. “It’s your favorite—the Soaring Spoon!” The spoon spun into life. It scooped up some yams and roared around the room, swooping and looping the loop. The yam bowl raced behind it to keep up. After three turns around the kitchen, the spoon came to a screeching halt right by Petal. She shook her head and clamped her mouth shut.
“Open wide,” Tulip sang.
Petal swatted the spoon, and it clattered to the ground. She pushed the bowl away with all her strength, and it turned upside down. Mashed yam hit the floor with a resounding splat!
“WAAAAAAAAH!” Petal cried even louder.
Marigold’s mother threw up her hands and collapsed in a chair.
“So much for the Soaring Spoon Spell,” Marigold’s father said, and stuck his fingers in his ears.
Marigold turned to Lightning. “Can you believe this?”
The dragon finished his cereal and put the bowl in the sink. “It’s definitely not like it used to be around here.”
Marigold finished hers as well and wiped her mouth. “I don’t care what Granny says. I still think we should get our own place in the forest.”
Lightning suggested, “Why not try getting their attention again—louder this time?”
Marigold took a deep breath and, as loud as she could, yelled, “HI, MOM! HI, DAD!”
Suddenly Petal stopped crying. “Do you hear that?” Marigold’s parents said with disbelief. “Ahhhhh, peace and quiet,” they whispered.
Petal stared at Marigold’s star and pointed. “Mawigohd blinky!”
Both parents turned to their other daughter in surprise. “Marigold!” they said. “There you are!”
Marigold’s star blinked. Off. On. Off. On. Off. On.
Petal giggled with glee.
“It’s not funny,” Marigold said angrily. “It won’t stop!”
“She’s right. Her star’s been doing that all day,” Lightning added with concern.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” her mother said breezily.
Marigold frowned. “Maybe it’ll go out—I hope it does!”
Her f
ather looked surprised. “But, honey, it’s a sure sign—”
“—of greatness,” her mother finished in a hushed tone.
“But I’m not great at anything!” Marigold cried.
“Maybe you just need to apply yourself a little more,” her father said gently.
“Or practice with your magic wand a few more times a day,” her mother suggested.
Her father raised a bushy eyebrow and asked, “How’s that Thunder Spell coming along, hmmm?”
“Not so good,” Marigold replied. She was terrible at weather spells. Marigold knew she would never grow up to be a weather wizard like her father.
Marigold’s mother held an apple in each hand. “Which one is poison, dear?”
Marigold hesitated. “Um . . . that one . . . no . . . that one . . . no . . . that one?”
Her mother shook her head. Marigold knew she would never grow up to be a fairy god-doctor like her mother either.
Marigold’s father said, “Well, at least you’ve learned how to do the Invisibility Spell by now?”
“N-Not exactly,” Marigold stammered.
Her parents looked at each other in dismay.
Marigold shrugged. “So that just proves it—I’m not so great, after all.”
“Pumpkin seeds!” Her mother tossed the apples in the air, and they vanished. “You are going to be great at something that we can’t even imagine yet!”
“Something rare and incredibly wondrous,” her father added confidently.
“All you need is a little more practice, honey,” her mother said.
“Start by learning the Invisibility Spell, dear,” her father said. “I know you can do it.”
“The star is never wrong!” both her parents exclaimed.
Marigold shuffled out of the kitchen, her eyes on the floor. On the way to her room, she could still see the walls light up every time her star blinked. It was so annoying. “Something rare and incredibly wondrous,” she muttered to herself. “That’ll be the day.”
Lightning pushed open the heavy wooden door to her bedroom. Marigold climbed on her bed, which was tucked into a corner beside the window. The star continued to blink like a warning beacon. She sat cross-legged on top of the patchwork quilt. “I’m a hopeless case, Lightning.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, Marigold.” Lightning patted her arm, and she could tell he felt sorry for her. It made her feel like crying.
“Can you do the Invisibility Spell?” She sniffed.
The dragon lowered his eyes.
Marigold had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what her dragon was about to tell her.
“Okay! So I can do the Invisibility Spell,” he finally admitted. “So what?”
“So what?” Marigold held both hands out. “I’m the only person in all of Bramblycrumbly who can’t do the Invisibility Spell. . . . I’ll bet even Petal will learn it before me!”
What an awful thought. Marigold suddenly felt light-headed. The cereal she’d just eaten churned in her stomach. She pulled the Bramblycrumbly Book of Spells out of her pocket.
She knew there was no other way around this. She didn’t care what she had to do to learn this spell—no way was Petal going to learn it before she did. She made up her mind. She took a deep breath. “That’s it!”
“That’s what?” Lightning asked.
“I’m learning that spell!” Marigold announced.
“Okay,” Lightning said.
“If it’s the last thing I do!” Marigold added.
“Okay,” Lightning said.
“In fact—I’m never leaving this room! Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Ever—till I learn it!”
“Okay.”
Marigold stuck out her chin. “Okay!”
5
The Invis-O-Friend Spell
Lightning had his own bed on the other side of the room, next to a small fireplace that he conveniently kept lit with his breath whenever it was cold. He curled up on the bed and sighed.
Marigold got busy and thumbed through Granny’s book. There was all kinds of information, ranging from recipes and advice to lists of magic words for protection against things like your pot of gold being nabbed by a gnome to little-known facts such as the life span of goblins. The book was so fascinating that Marigold could have stayed up all night reading it, but she had an assignment to do, so she focused on the section marked, “Spells.”
There were spells to make someone sleep for a hundred years and spells to wake them up. There were spells to pass through fire unharmed or turn a ragged dress into a ball gown. One particular spell caught Marigold’s eye, and she read with great interest.
THE FLYING SPELL
The Flying Spell is the oldest one in the book and extremely easy to master, even for the youngest. Though a word of caution: the Flying Spell does require a suspension of disbelief—especially during the leaping portion—more suited to the very young. The older one becomes, the more difficult the Flying Spell becomes. . . .
“Great,” Marigold said flatly.
Suddenly there was a knock at the window. It was her friend Mrs. Moon. “Hi, Marigold. What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to learn how to become invisible. I’m not leaving my room until I do,” Marigold said firmly.
“That’s the spirit!” the owl replied. “Did you solve any of your problems?”
“Granny Cabbage says my only problem is that I have a magic power and I have to find out what it is,” Marigold said. “What do you think my magic power could be?”
The owl knew right away. “You always say just the right thing to make me feel better—maybe your magic power is that you can read minds!”
“That’s an interesting idea,” Marigold said, but she knew that wasn’t her magic power. “Thanks, Mrs. Moon!”
“Good luck!” said the owl, and she flew away.
Marigold picked up the spell book again, but a moment later there came the tapping sound of pebbles being thrown at her window. It was another friend, Bob the Woodcutter’s Son.
“Did you solve any of your problems?” he called up to her.
Marigold told him what Granny Cabbage had said. “What do you think my magic power is, Bob?”
“I think you have the power to make any chore seem like fun,” Bob said.
“That’s so nice of you to say, Bob.” Marigold was pleased to hear it, but she didn’t even think that was a real magic power.
“Come down and help me gather some wood,” he added.
Marigold shook her head. “I’m not leaving this room until I learn to become invisible!”
Bob wished her good luck and left to finish his chore.
Marigold went back to her book, but right away her two good friends Daisy and Rosie showed up. When Marigold asked what they thought her magic power could be, they said, “You’re good at sharing—you always let us go for rides on Lightning. Come down and let’s go for a ride!”
Soon after, Lily and Iris stopped by because they had heard that their friend Marigold had some problems, and they wanted to help. So did the vegetable people Chickpea, Ginger, and Parsnip. Everyone had ideas of what Marigold’s magic power was, and everyone thought she should come out and play to take her mind off her problems.
Marigold politely declined the offers. She was anxious to learn the Invisibility Spell and said good night to all her friends. Even Lightning was asleep by now.
“At least it’s finally quiet.” She sighed and got to work. Of course, she’d been taught the Invisibility Spell—every child in Bramblycrumbly knew it by the time they were six—but so far, she’d never been able to get it right. She searched Granny’s book to make sure she was doing it correctly. Before too long she found what she was looking for.
THE INVISIBILITY SPELL
This is the EASIEST spell in this book!
STEP ONE: Hold magic wand firmly in right hand.
STEP TWO: Take right foot off ground.
STEP THREE: Rub stomach
with left hand in a circular motion and tap head with magic wand.
STEP FOUR: Cross eyes.
STEP FIVE: State CLEARLY what you want to be invisible.
Marigold took out her magic wand.
She placed it carefully on the bed and stared at it.
She did not like the magic wand.
Bad things happened when she tried to use it.
Just last week, she had said to it, “Magic Wand . . . make us a snack!” Instantly she and Lightning had ended up in the nastiest giant’s cave in Bramblycrumbly and had to be rescued by the fire department.
Marigold picked the wand up off the bed. She held the wand firmly in her right hand, which trembled slightly. She raised her right foot off the ground and wobbled as she rubbed her stomach in a circular motion with her left hand. She tapped her head, but when she got to the part where she was supposed to cross her eyes, she lost her balance. Just before she tumbled to the floor, she blurted out, “Magic Wand . . . be invisible!”
POOF!
Marigold gasped. For the first time ever, the Invisibility Spell had actually worked!
There was only one thing. . . .
It had worked on her magic wand, which was now invisible.
Marigold stared in disbelief at her right hand, where the wand had been a second ago. “Where did it go?”
She searched frantically through the bedclothes. No wand.
She looked under the bed. No wand.
She got on her hands and knees and felt every square inch of the floor. No wand.
She sat on the edge of her bed, breathing hard from the effort. “Do you think the brownies got it, Lightning?” she asked the dragon, who was awake now from all the commotion.
Marigold Star Page 3
