First published in the UK in 2024 by Nosy Crow Ltd Wheat Wharf, 27a Shad Thames, London, SE1 2XZ, UK
Nosy Crow Eireann Ltd
44 Orchard Grove, Kenmare, Co Kerry, V93 FY22, Ireland
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text © Sinéad O’Hart, 2024
Cover and illustrations © Rachel Seago, 2024
The right of Sinéad O’Hart and Rachel Seago to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted.
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978 1 80513 267 7
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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To the true keepers of sunshine – librarians everywhere, especially Hannah and Irene!
Thanks to all who bring books to readers, and readers to books, all over the world.
S.O.
For Evan and Freya, for making being your auntie so much fun.
R.S.
Deep in the heart of a thick forest – and not too far from a circle of old, mossy, ivy-covered stones – lay a fairy village, still and quiet and full of sleep.
All that could be heard were the snores and whiffles of the dreaming fairies, their windows open to let in the night air. The breeze blew gently through the grass, making the flowers dance and nod, and in the trees the pigeons snoozed, their heads tucked beneath their wings. All was dark, and peaceful, and content.
Except for the village’s vegetable patch, that is.
The vegetable patch had leaves poking out at odd angles, and brambles shooting overhead, arching like giant spiders’ legs. And were those noises, coming from the centre of the tangled greenery? Noises like the sort your tummy makes when it’s super hungry? Was that just the gentle wind, or was something stirring in the middle of the jungle of leaves and thorns and shoots?
As the vegetable patch expanded, it drew closer to the village, and as its edge approached the fence, a plant that looked a lot like a Venus flytrap opened its large mouth and pounced, gobbling it down, wood and nails and all. The plant swallowed loudly before letting out a gentle burp, but still nobody in the fairy village woke up.
The breeze that tickled its way through the vegetable patch carried a strange magic. Some of this strange magic landed on the vegetable patch, but some of it spread away from the wriggling greenery like pollen on the wind. The magic shone purple and black and red, and close behind it, also carried by the wind, was the sound of laughter – a cruel, unkind glee.
All through the night this dark magic blew across the fairy village and beyond, the wind
that carried it being huffed and puffed out from the very centre of the forest, the deepest part, where a wicked fairy named Euphorbia Spurge lived. But by the time morning came, and the fairies stretched themselves awake, there was no trace of the magic to be found.
And instead of a slightly overgrown vegetable patch, there was a jangling jumble of plants and stems and leaves, so huge that it overshadowed the whole village – and it was still growing!
The Leaf Olympics
“Strange things are afoot in the garden, girls,” called Grandma through the open back door as she kicked the mud from her wellingtons. Larch, who had been trying to balance on one wing on the rim of a glass of juice, popped back into the rabbit shape she normally wore when there were grown-ups around. Lola stifled a giggle.
“What do you mean?” Lola asked, turning to face Grandma. She picked up Larch, cradling the rabbit in her arms. Larch’s nose vibrated with curiosity.
Grandma stepped into her back porch, her arms laden down with greenery. She looked like she’d suddenly turned into a bush, with two small wellington-clad legs underneath. Lola’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“All this,” Grandma said, her voice muffled by the vegetation, “has grown overnight! I weeded the polytunnel after breakfast yesterday, and today when I went back to check on my prize marrows, what do I find?”
“The leaf Olympics,” Lola said.
“Exactly!” Grandma laughed. “I’m going to have to find space for it in my composter. Honestly, if I try to squeeze in any more, the lid is going to come right off. But…” She grinned. “I can’t wait to see Letitia Laverty’s face when she sees the size of my marrows at the summer fete. That new mulch I bought must really be doing the trick!”
Grandma dumped the greenery back into her wheelbarrow, and Lola and Larch followed
her around the rear of the house, towards the compost heaps and the bins. As they walked, Lola kept an eye on the cuttings in the wheelbarrow, which seemed to be slithering and sliding about in a way that looked rather odd. In her arms, Larch quivered. They looked at one another, and Lola knew she wasn’t imagining her friend’s wide-eyed stare. Because, as strange as the cuttings looked, Lola and Larch knew they’d seen something very similar before.
“Is it just me,” Lola whispered to the rabbit, “or do Grandma’s cuttings look a bit like the vegetable patch in the fairy village – you know, the one you put a spell on, months ago?”
Larch’s nose twitched indignantly, and with a tiny pop she switched to fairy-mode just long enough to stick her tongue out at Lola. “I was trying to make it grow!” the fairy pouted. “It’s not my fault it went wrong.”
Lola looked at the wriggling greenery in
Grandma’s wheelbarrow. “I know,” said Lola gently. “You never mean to cause trouble.” She and her fairy shared a wry smile.
“I think trouble just causes me,” Larch sighed, raising her eyebrows. She popped back to rabbit-mode as they caught up with Grandma, who was peering into one of her composters.
“Oh, what a pickle,” Grandma said. Lola
peeked in. The composter was almost full. “I might have to ask your mum to bring some home with her.”
In the wheelbarrow, the cuttings continued wriggling, and in Lola’s arms, Larch let out a tiny prrfft. Lola couldn’t smell anything, but she gave the rabbit a look of amused disgust anyway.
“What was that?” said Grandma.
“Oh – nothing,” Lola said, stroking Larch’s furry head and trying to ignore the greenery. She told herself not to be silly. Just because you know a fairy doesn’t mean there’s magic everywhere, she told herself. Sometimes it’s just mulch!
“Bunnies fart when they’re anxious, you know,” Grandma said, turning to Lola. “Is everything all right?”
Lola opened her mouth to try to reply, but she couldn’t find the words. Grandma believed in fairies, but she didn’t know Larch was one –and Lola wasn’t allowed to tell her. Lola sighed as she remembered The First Rule of Larch’s fairy clan: Never Reveal Yourself to an Adult Human Creature, for they are Foolish and Not to be Trusted. Even though Grandma was lovely, and she’d definitely be happy to know she had a fairy in the family, Larch was still too scared to break the most important rule of all. And if they couldn’t tell Grandma the truth about Larch, then they
couldn’t tell Grandma there might be a magical problem with her prize marrows.
“Lolo!” Lola’s little brother, Noah, shouted from the sandpit.
“Let’s go and see what your brother wants, shall we, love?” said Grandma. She dusted off her hands and ushered Lola ahead of her.
Larch couldn’t help but look back at the overfull wheelbarrow just as they turned the corner. It was wriggling again. As she watched, one of the biggest leaves lifted up just like a hand and waved goodbye!
The Smell of Magic
“There’s definitely something weird going on,” Larch whispered. She and Lola were at the bottom of Grandma’s garden, far enough away from the grown-ups for Larch to be in fairymode. Lola was folding triangles of coloured card, making bunting for the summer fete. Larch was surrounded by the contents of her schoolbag – tiny birch-bark scrolls, pencils made from pine needles, half-eaten dandelion leaves, and the conker shell she wore as a flight helmet whenever she flew home by pigeon to
her fairy village.
“What do you mean?” Lola asked.
Larch wriggled her wings and popped into rabbit-mode. Lola watched as her nose quivered, and in the next blink she was back in fairy-mode again, looking puzzled. “I can smell it when I’m rabbit-shaped,” she said.
“Smell what?”
“Magic, of course,” Larch said. “Strange magic. Sort of – everywhere.”
Lola lifted her face and took three huge sniffs. “I don’t smell anything,” she said.
Larch snorted. “Well, obviously. You’re only a human.”
Lola moodily glued another triangle in place. Grandma had everyone helping to prepare for the summer fete – except Mum, who happily used the excuse that she was away at a conference all week. Grandma was determined to have the best-decorated stand in the whole show, as well as winning the gold rosette for
her marrows.
“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault I’m a human, is it? And fairies aren’t all that either,” Lola said, staring at her fairy friend. “Remember Euphorbia Spurge?”
Larch turned to her human, eyes wide. “Don’t even think her name,” she hissed. “She might hear you!”
“All the way over here?” Lola peered at the forest, past the end of Grandma’s garden. Larch’s fairy village was in there, tucked away near the stone circle – but right at the centre was the house of the wickedest fairy in the woods, Euphorbia Spurge. They’d already had a run-in with her, and neither Lola nor Larch was eager to meet her again.
“I’ve got an idea,” Larch said suddenly, leaping into the air and switching to rabbit-mode. She flopped back to the grass and began to lollop away, her cotton tail bobbing as she ran.
“Hey! Hang on!” Lola said, flinging the bunting to one side. She scrambled to her feet and followed the rabbit towards Grandma’s polytunnel at the far side of the garden. It was stuffed with vegetation. Leaves were poking through the polytunnel door and pressed right up against the plastic walls, almost like they were bursting to get out. Larch stopped, her rabbit-nose twitching.
Lola pulled open the door to the polytunnel. Warm air and a scent of damp earth surrounded her as she stepped inside, and the leaves were so thick that she had to push her way through. Larch hopped on to her foot and switched to fairy-mode, spinning as she flew to Lola’s head-height. “This place is full of it,” Larch whispered. “The strange smell.”
Lola shrugged. “I mean, Grandma uses lots of weird stuff in here to get the plants to grow,” she said. “You heard her talking about some new mulch she bought.”
Larch shook her head, making her cone hat wobble. Around her neck, her magical rainbow pendant gleamed. “No, it’s not that. It’s something else.”
All around them, the leaves wiggled and danced. The noise they made sounded a little like voices whispering – or, Lola thought, like voices laughing. Then, on the far side of the polytunnel, a tomato began to swell. Like a balloon being inflated, it got bigger … and bigger … and bigger, until finally it popped with a wet squelch.
“Did you see that?” Lola whispered.
“That doesn’t normally happen with those red things, right?” Larch said.
“They’re called tomatoes,” Lola replied.
“Whateveroes,” Larch said, folding her arms as she fluttered up to stare at her human. “Do you believe me now?”
“Yes. It’s magic,” Lola said. “We’ve got to do something.”
Larch gave a determined nod. She flew to her usual perch on top of Lola’s head, and they made their way to the end of the tunnel, where Grandma had planted some onions. Their green stalks waggled as Lola and Larch drew near.
“Right,” said Larch, leaping from Lola’s head. She wiggled her fingers as she muttered a spell –and then there was a
Lola jumped backwards, almost falling over a flowerpot. “Uh-oh,” Larch muttered.
“What’s wr— Argh! ” Lola yelled, as the onions began to pop out of the soil. Some started whirring through the air, bouncing off one another and smashing into gloopy pulp. At the back of the planter, three onions were making a thick plait out of their stalks, flipping and weaving over one another as they went. Two more, right under Lola’s nose, appeared to be having a duel – they spun away from one another, hopping five times before facing round again and levelling their stalks at each other like lances. As Lola watched, the onions zipped towards one another, whacking together and bouncing apart. They lay on the soil, looking dazed, before leaping up and doing it all again.
“Oh no, no, no,” Larch said, frantically wiggling her fingers. “Stop, you silly vegetables!” Lola couldn’t help it. The giggle started at the back of her throat and pushed its way up and out of her nose before she could stop it. The onions looked ridiculous!
The duelling pair turned towards her, as though they were offended by her laughter, and Lola giggled harder.
“Humans! ” yelled Larch. “A magical emergency, and all they can do is laugh!”
“But it’s funny!” Lola protested.
To Lola’s left, more tomatoes began getting bigger and rounder so quickly that they’d already burst before she had time to scramble out of the way.
Juicy tomato pulp and hundreds of little seeds spattered all over her.
she cried.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” Larch shouted, fluttering towards the door, wrapping her head in her arms to protect against flying fruit and vegetables. Lola followed, skidding on tomato skins and fighting off the strong leaves and stems that tried to grab her. They burst back out into the garden, gasping for breath, closing the polytunnel door tightly shut behind them. Another tomato met its end against the plastic, splashing and sliding slowly towards the floor. The fairy and her human stared at one another, catching their breath. “What on earth is happening?” Larch whispered.
