| Children Fiction posted February 10, 2025 |
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Greta has a plan In The Attic 5
Fiona's Watchdog
by Begin Again
Margaret sensed something was amiss the moment she returned from the gardening club. The house was too still and quiet for young children to be playing.
A chill skittered down her spine as she noticed the attic door ajar. Standing at the base of the attic stairs, she called, "Jordan? Quinn? Children, are you up there?"
Silence.
She took a deep breath and started climbing. Each step creaked underfoot, the sound echoing in the stillness. As she reached the attic landing, a soft glow bathed the room. The mirror shimmered with a silvery hue, and beside it lay the wooden box, its lid open, revealing the broken heart pendant.
Her breath caught as forgotten memories surged like a tidal wave. She stared at the mirror, whispering, "They've gone through."
Her fingers brushed the mirror's calm surface, sending ripples across the glass like water disturbed by a gentle breeze.
She bent down, carefully lifting the heart pendant from the box. A tiny tear glistened in her eye as she held it — its once vibrant ruby-red glow now faded and cracked. An unexpected warmth spread through her fingers. Her heart skipped a beat as visions danced before her — a young girl laughing, a handsome man beside her, his warm gaze full of promises never fulfilled. Her chest tightened.
"William," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I've never forgotten."
The mirror shimmered, rippling like a pond touched by raindrops. Then, a tiny, glowing figure appeared from within the glass — a fairy with delicate wings that shimmered like rainbows.
"Grandma! It's me, Lyria!" The voice tinkled like a bell. The mirror's surface quivered, revealing the tiny, luminous figure and the Forest.
Lost in her own memories, Margaret didn't hear her. Tears spilled down her wrinkled cheeks, and she turned away.
Frantic, Lyria called again. When Margaret didn't respond, she turned to the others. "She doesn't hear me. I don't know what to do."
The fairies fluttered to the mirror one by one, their tiny voices rising in unison. "Grandma! Grandma, can you hear us?"
The chorus of voices tugged Margaret from her thoughts. She turned toward the mirror, her eyes widening. Dozens of fairies filled the shimmering glass, their gossamer wings twinkling like tiny stars.
Lyria flew forward. "Grandma, I'm Lyria. Jordan and Quinn's friend."
The other fairies chimed in, "And we all are!"
"Jordan and Quinn are in trouble. We need your help."
Margaret gasped. "The twins — oh no!" Her voice dropped. "I can't enter the Forest of Wonder anymore. The magic — it's gone."
A deeper voice, warm and familiar, interrupted. "The magic never left you, Margaret. You just needed to believe."
The fairies parted, and there he stood.
Margaret's breath hitched. Her fingers trembled. "William?" she whispered.
He smiled, his eyes twinkling like stardust. "Margaret."
Her heart pounded. He was just as she remembered — handsome and unchanged by time. Emotion swelled within her — joy, sorrow, longing. So many years had passed, but here he was.
His gaze dropped to the heart in her hand. "The heart — my heart — was always your key to return."
Margaret looked down, cradling the pendant in her palm. The once-vivid ruby now seemed dull and lifeless, cracked like an old forgotten relic. "But it's broken," she murmured.
William pressed a hand to his chest. A warm golden light shimmered beneath his silk shirt. "Hold it close, Margaret. Believe in the magic within you, and the mirror will open."
The heart pendant pulsed as his words wrapped around her like a familiar melody. Margaret gasped as light threaded through the tiny cracks, sealing them shut. The once-faded ruby blazed to life, glowing as bright as the morning sun.
The fairies clapped, their laughter twinkling like bells. "She did it! She did it!"
Clutching the now-whole pendant to her heart, Margaret whispered, "I believe."
Nothing happened.
She touched the mirror, but William and the fairies faded. "No! No! William! Lyria! Someone help me!"
From the other side, she heard the chants. "I believe! We all believe!"
Margaret repeated it, louder this time. "I believe. I believe!"
As her fingertips touched the mirror, a pulse of magic rippled outward. The pendant flared with light. A soft wind swirled around her, lifting strands of her silver hair. The light wrapped around her, shifting, reshaping.
And then — she stepped through.
She gasped when her feet touched the soft earth of the Forest of Wonder. She lifted her hands — no wrinkles. No aching joints.
Her reflection in the water beside the mirror showed a younger version of herself as she had been all those years ago.
A soft laugh bubbled from her lips. She remembered this feeling. The magic. The adventure.
And then — two figures stepped from the shadows.
Margaret's heart clenched. She barely breathed. "William."
He was watching her with the same wonder in his eyes. "Margaret," he whispered.
Her lips parted as she stared at him. "I do believe."
He moved to her side and took her hand, gently brushing his lips against her skin.
Greta grinned. "Took you long enough."
Tears welled in Margaret's eyes, but before she could say another word, Lyria flew into her hands, sobbing. "Oh, Margaret! The twins are trapped, and the ogre — he tricked them! You have to help!"
"The twins! An Ogre! Something must be done and fast." Margaret's old instincts kicked in. She wiped Lyria's tears, then turned to William and Greta. "We have work to do."
William chuckled. "Just like old times — an adventure."
Margaret touched her pendant, feeling the warmth of its magic. "Not exactly. This involves my grandchildren, and I'll save them regardless of the cost."
William and Greta hugged Margaret. They both whispered, "We'll save them together."
And with that, they stepped into the shadows of the Forest, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
*****
Margaret walked beside William and Greta through the Forest of Wonder. Her heart still raced from the magic of stepping through the mirror. The trees whispered around them, and fireflies blinked like tiny lanterns. She glanced at William, a mixture of emotions swirling inside her. So much time had passed, yet he was as strong and handsome as she remembered.
Margaret walked beside William and Greta through the Forest of Wonder. Her heart still raced from the magic of stepping through the mirror. The trees whispered around them, and fireflies blinked like tiny lanterns. She glanced at William, a mixture of emotions swirling inside her. So much time had passed, yet he was as strong and handsome as she remembered.
The journey to Greta's house wasn't quiet. As they walked, the friends recalled old stories, laughed, and teased each other.
William nudged Margaret with his elbow. "Do you remember when we got caught sneaking past the Guardian's gate?"
Margaret laughed. "Only because you tripped over your own feet and knocked over a cart of pumpkins."
Greta grinned. "The Guardian was furious. Pumpkin seeds covered the Forest for days."
William feigned offense. "I was framed! Greta stuck her foot out and tripped me."
"Maybe that's how you'd like to remember it." Greta laughed. "And let's not forget when Margaret nearly got us eaten by a talking willow."
Margaret huffed. "How was I supposed to know it didn't like compliments? I was only trying to be polite."
The warm glow from the windows welcomed them as they arrived. Flower gardens surrounded Greta's cottage, nestled between two enormous oak trees. Inside, the scent of fresh herbs and honey filled the air.
Greta put a tea kettle on the stove and gestured for everyone to sit. "Now, let's think. The ogre won't let them go, not without a reason. He's unpredictable."
"He can be a mean one," William added. "He once chased a group of pixies for borrowing a pebble from under his bridge."
Greta sighed. "Yes, well, he's also terribly lonely."
"And very hungry," William said. "That's usually the bigger problem."
A tear rolled down Margaret's cheek. "Sounds like Quinn, he always wants to eat." Determined to stay focused, she wiped her eyes and said, "So we're dealing with a grumpy, lonely, and hungry ogre? Wonderful. But we can handle this."
Greta tapped her chin in thought. "I have an idea, but it's a long shot." She looked at them seriously. "Do you remember Fiona?"
William's brows furrowed. "Fiona? I think I remember her. The one who vanished?"
"Vanished?" Margaret gasped.
Greta nodded. "She wouldn't give her freshly baked pies to an evil witch."
"Neither would I," Grandma blurted out, but quickly added, "But I'd share — if she was a nice witch."
"Well, this witch was bad. She put a curse on Fiona and turned her into an ogre. She lives deep in the swamp, away from everyone. If anyone understands the mind of an ogre, it's her. If we can find her, she might be willing to help."
Margaret hesitated. "Will she even want to talk to us? If she's been alone all these years, she may not be interested in helping."
Greta sighed. "She might refuse, but it's our best chance. We need her."
William stood. "Then let's not waste time. If we're going into the swamp, we'll need supplies."
"Yes, let's get started."
*****
At dawn, they set off toward the swamp to find Fiona. The path became rougher as the trees thickened, their gnarled roots snaking across the ground. The air grew damp, heavy with the scent of wet moss.
At dawn, they set off toward the swamp to find Fiona. The path became rougher as the trees thickened, their gnarled roots snaking across the ground. The air grew damp, heavy with the scent of wet moss.
Mist clung to the ground, swirling around their feet as they entered the heart of the swamp. The once cheerful glow of the Forest of Wonder dimmed, replaced by twisted trees draped in thick vines. Strange croaks and eerie hoots echoed from unseen creatures, their eyes blinking in the shadows.
Margaret shivered. "This place is way creepier than I imagined. Are you sure Fiona lives out here?"
"Positive," Greta said. "She wanted to be left alone, and no one dares to come this deep into the swamp."
Margaret glanced at Greta. "You've been here before, right?"
Greta hesitated. "Not exactly. The Forest changes over time. But I do remember one thing—"
A low growl rumbled through the thick air.
"Um — we're not alone," William finished.
The group froze as a dark shape emerged from behind a fallen log. At first, it looked like a boulder, but then it moved. Two glowing yellow eyes peered at them, and when it opened its mouth, plumes of smoke curled into the air.
Margaret's eyes widened, and she stammered, "It's — it's a dragon!"
The beast, covered in dull, cracked scales, let out a deep, ominous huff, a small puff of fire escaping his nostrils. He loomed over them, his massive claws digging into the soft ground. "Who dares enter Fiona's domain?" the dragon boomed.
Greta stepped forward. "We mean no harm, Mr. Dragon."
The dragon straightened, and his nostrils flared. "Mr. Dragon? Has a nice sound to it." Then, remembering he was supposed to be mean, he narrowed his eyes, and fire shot from his nose. He roared and then said, "No one sees Fiona. I am her loyal guardian."
Margaret noticed something odd. Despite his growling, the dragon seemed hesitant. His tail twitched, and his wings shuffled nervously. When she took a small step forward, he flinched. That's when she saw the quills in his feet.
"Oh, Greta and William, look! He has sharp arrows in his feet. That must hurt."
The dragon lowered his head and looked at the quills — sharp, tiny darts sticking out of his flesh. "Oh, those? Pfft. Barely noticed them," Frederick muttered, shifting his foot gingerly. "I, uh, may have stepped on a porcupine. It was an accident — but he took it personally."
"We can help." William volunteered.
Both Greta and Margaret gulped and stared at their friend. Greta was wide-eyed and stammered, "We can?"
William nodded and looked at the sad monster before moving closer. "Wouldn't you like those quills out of your feet? We can pull them out if you promise not to stomp on us or blow fire."
Water trickled down his face and plopped on the ground, splashing the trio. They jumped back, not sure what was happening. Then Margaret asked," Are you scared?"
"What? Me? A mighty fire-breathing dragon? Afraid?" He scoffed, though his voice cracked slightly. "I laugh in the face of danger!"
Greta smirked. "Then why are you trembling?"
The dragon blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. "I — uh — I'm just stretching. Swamp air makes my wings stiff."
William crossed his arms. "You're scared of us, aren't you?"
"I am not!" the dragon huffed, a weak puff of smoke escaping his nostrils. "I am a fearsome beast!"
Greta smiled knowingly. "What if we promise not to hurt you?"
Fiona's watchdog dropped his head lower to the ground. "I'm supposed to be ferocious and keep Fiona safe, but I'm lonely, and there is no one to help."
"We'll help, but you have to promise not to start any fires."
The dragon hesitated before shuffling his claws. The dragon nodded and stuck out a foot. "I promise. And I liked the sound of Mr. Dragon, but Fiona calls me Frederick."
Greta smiled, "Since we are going to be friends, we will call you Frederick too."
William and the girls moved closer and wrapped their hands around one of the quills. "Now, because you are so brave, this won't hurt more than a second."
Frederick took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes. "Okay, I'm ready."
Margaret exchanged an amused glance with William, and the trio quickly removed all the quills.
When they finished, Frederick thanked them and said he would take them to where Fiona lived. His dull scales turned a beautiful sapphire blue with brilliant red as he did so. Frederick smiled and happily thanked them again, repeating, "Wow, look at me!"
*****
The deeper they traveled, the more the swamp seemed to quiet, as if holding its breath. Then, ahead, the twisted trees opened to reveal a worn stone cottage covered in ivy and sat near an ancient willow.
Greta took a deep breath. "We're here. Let's hope Fiona is in a talking mood."
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