Chapter 28 #2
Spring watched as Lania skipped out the door, her curls bouncing behind her.
Once the little girl disappeared from sight, she turned her attention to Madura, who was studying her with an amused expression.
She stiffened her knees and splayed her fingers against the glass. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing.
The world tilted again, and she gasped.
“Hang on, love. This is never much fun. I do apologize for that,” Madura murmured. She gently tipped the jar onto its side and set it down on the nearby chair with a grace that defied her size. “There you go. Out you come now, dear.”
Spring hesitated.
The inside of the jar, while a prison, was also… safe. Clear. Contained. A solid barrier against being squished.
The chair outside felt vast and exposed, the wood grain stretched and worn, the edges like cliffs.
Go. She’s good. We safe here.
Spring blinked. Her dragon was never this… certain.
Swallowing hard, she crawled to the lip of the jar and stepped out, her booted feet sliding onto the polished wood. The grain beneath her shoes reminded her of wood from their treehouse back home, warm and solid.
“What’s a-a Spellbinder?” Spring asked, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked up.
Madura smiled gently, her eyes twinkling. “Someone you are very lucky to meet today. You have indeed come to the right place, but I was expecting more than one. I could have sworn the wind told me there were two of you.”
“I—There is. I left Ro—my friend back where we landed,” she confessed with a grimace.
“Ah, a tiny quarrel, eh?” Madura chuckled. “Do you get it? Tiny—because you were tiny.”
Spring snorted and nodded. “Yeah. That was funny. Roam would’ve thought it was funny, too.” She exhaled slowly. Her knees wobbled a little as she stepped onto a massive wooden chair, balancing there like a toy doll.
The sound of muffled giggles made her spin around.
The children from the meadow—giant children—were now crowding into the kitchen doorway, their wide eyes filled with wonder. They whispered to one another, smiling, ducking behind shoulders and then peeking back out like she was some kind of miniature celebrity.
Just then, the crowd of children parted, and a tall girl with warm brown eyes stepped forward. Light brown hair, braided and crowned with tiny white flowers, framed her gentle face. She walked softly, reverently, and in her hands, she carried a pale mushroom that sparkled with iridescent spots.
“Thank you, Dorella,” Madura said, taking the mushroom carefully.
Dorella beamed and gave Spring a little curtsy.
Spring watched, wide-eyed, as Madura broke off the tiniest piece of the cap and held it out on the tip of her finger.
“One bite, my dear.”
Spring reached for the mushroom hesitantly. The scent was earthy and oddly sweet. She often collected mushrooms in her garden back home. Her fingers brushed Madura’s fingertip as she took the piece and stared at it for a second.
What if it does something to me? Not all mushrooms are edible.
We trust her.
She closed her eyes and popped it into her mouth.
A warm, tingling sensation spread across her tongue, then down her spine. She gasped, her eyes flying open as the room shuddered.
The world tilted, shifted, shrunk.
Her feet wobbled under her. She reached out instinctively—but there was the table edge, no longer towering. The chair beneath her was still large, but no longer impossible.
Madura broke off another small piece and offered it.
“You’re nearly there,” she said softly.
Spring took the offering with trembling fingers and ate it. Another rush of tingling magic swept through her, this time gentler—like a wave wrapping her in silk.
When the glow faded, she stood on the chair, now towering over the children gathered nearby. They were giggling—but not terrifyingly so.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest.
“I… I’m normal size again,” she whispered.
Madura’s eyes softened. “A little magic can help cure even the worst spell if you know how to use it. Her Highness, Lady Ruth, discovered that.”
Spring blinked at her, confused and overwhelmed. “But… how is this even possible?”
“I suspect there was a little mischief magic threaded into the portal that brought you. I sensed the touch of a Goddess,” Madura said, helping Spring down from the chair.
“You are here now. Safe and sound. Now, tell me about the one you had a quarrel with. I believe he might need a touch of magic as well.”
Spring nodded and slowly bent so she could slide down and sit on the chair.
Madura shooed the children back outside, ignoring the way they complained.
Spring’s eyes filled with tears. She really needed someone to talk to, and since her sister and her mom weren’t there, she leaned into Madura’s plump arms when the woman wrapped them around her and gave her a comforting hug.
“Hush now. It will be alright,” Madura murmured.
“I left him… alone. What if something happens to him? What if he really doesn’t have nine lives? What if—what if… he’s happy I’m not there?” Spring sobbed.
Madura chuckled. “I’m sure he is missing you, child. Let me get you a nice cup of tea and a slice of fresh Cobbleberry pie.”
Spring wiped at her damp cheeks and sniffed. She would take a few minutes to compose herself, and then she would go back to Roam.
And he better be okay or I’m going to roast him, she thought with a fierce scowl.
Her dragon snorted again. Roam cat-shifter. What could go wrong?