by Gail Herman
THE CREEPING TREACLE VINE!
“I’ve never even heard of it,” Dulcie said with a frown. She was sure this was the final ingredient. Once again, she would have to check The History of Never Land.
Dulcie spread open the big book. She looked over the contents page, then the index. No creeping treacle vine. Not one entry between “Captain Hook” and “cuddle vine.”
Dulcie knew all about the cuddle vine. One grew in Lily’s garden.
Lily! Maybe she could ask Lily about the creeping treacle vine.
Dulcie had wanted to do this all on her own. She wanted the cake to surprise everyone. But now she was so close. Lily would be such a help.
Maybe a vine was growing right in her garden.
Dulcie grabbed a pea-pod pack and took off for Lily’s garden.
Seconds later, she flew over a raspberry hedge and landed in the soft grass.
“Dulcie!”
She stiffened. That voice! A little too loud. A little too shrill.
Iris rushed over to Dulcie. “I just heard why Ginger’s been doing all the baking,” she said.
Dulcie nodded glumly.
“That’s how I lost my garden. I went away, and when I came back, it was gone.”
Dulcie shook her head. She wouldn’t let Iris make her feel worse. She wouldn’t!
“Is Lily here?” she asked. “I have a question for her.”
“No, but I can help.”
“I don’t know, Iris. This is a question about a certain plant.”
“Well, I’m a garden fairy.” Iris tossed her curly hair. “In fact, I know more than any other garden fairy around. So you can ask me anything.”
Dulcie wanted to ask someone who tended an actual garden. Not Iris.
“Iris,” she began. Then she stopped.
Dulcie was having a hard time being out of the kitchen for a day. Poor Iris had gone without a garden for much, much longer.
“Come on, Dulcie,” Iris prodded. “You have a question. And I’ll bet I have the answer right here in my book.” She pulled out the plant book she carried with her everywhere.
Instead of working in a garden, Iris worked on her book. She’d been filling it with all sorts of information about the plants of Never Land.
Iris flipped open the birch-bark cover. “Is the question about poppy seeds? Or figs for pie? Pumpkins for cupcakes? Or maybe—”
“Wait!” Dulcie held up a hand. “Hold on, and I’ll tell you!”
Iris blinked quickly. Was she going to cry?
“I just really need help,” Dulcie said more gently. “Have you ever heard of the creeping treacle vine?”
Iris turned one page, then another, and another. “Weeeell”—she drew out the word—“of course I’ve heard of it. Every garden fairy has.”
“You have?” Dulcie said. “So where is it?”
“I don’t have proof that it’s even real. It could just be a story told to every new garden talent.”
Dulcie was confused. “What have you heard?”
Iris shrugged. “It’s supposed to be very powerful. It holds some special magic. And you can find it in only one place in all of Never Land.”
Iris paused. Dulcie leaned closer. “Tell me!” she squeaked. “Tell me.”
“The Never Arbor,” Iris whispered. “Deep in the forest, where no fairies go.”
“Do you know where the Never Arbor is?”
Iris snapped her book shut. “Of course,” she said in her regular voice. “I’m a garden fairy, aren’t I?”
Dulcie nodded. Why wouldn’t Iris just get to the point?
“It’s on the southern tip of the forest. Start at the edge of Pixie Hollow, by that wild mint patch, and just keep going.”
Iris made the trip sound simple. Dulcie could leave right then and still be back for dinner. “You’ve been helpful, Iris,” she said. Right away, she headed for the mint patch.
But when she reached the sharp-smelling plants, she hesitated. The dense forest spread before her. To Dulcie it was a mysterious place, filled with mysterious creatures. She recalled Iris’s whispered words: “The Never Arbor, deep in the forest, where no fairies go.”
The sun shone low in the sky. The day was almost over. There wasn’t much time. If Dulcie didn’t finish the cake today, Ginger would still be in charge tomorrow.
She took a deep breath. She hitched the pea-pod pack up on her shoulder.
“Dulcie?”
Dulcie jumped. Iris again?
Then she grinned. “Lily! What are you doing here?”
“Iris told me you were looking for me. What’s going on?”
Dulcie hesitated. Should she tell Lily about the ancient recipe? Dulcie wasn’t even good friends with Lily. But something made Dulcie want to trust her.
Dulcie took a deep breath and told her about the recipe, about the ingredients that magically appeared, and finally about the sweet syrup from the creeping treacle vine.
She squeezed Lily’s hands. “Come with me, Lily. Help me find the arbor!”
A DUSKY GLOW settled over the trees. Dulcie and Lily stood hand in hand at the edge of the forest.
“We fly around the dark woods,” Lily told Dulcie. “Then we go through a prickly briar. From there, it should be a short trip to the Never Arbor.”
Dulcie’s heart thudded. They’d be going so far from Pixie Hollow! She felt nervous. Today she’d flown farther than she ever had before. But this journey would take her deep into no-fairy land, a place so far from the comforts of her kitchen, Dulcie couldn’t even imagine it.
“We’d better go now,” Lily said. She gazed at the sky. “While it’s still light.”
Dulcie straightened her wings. This was it. The quest for the final ingredient. She slung the pea-pod pack over her shoulder. Then she and Lily took off through the trees.
It was darker and chillier in the woods.
Dulcie followed Lily deeper and deeper. She had to find this treacle vine. She had to prove she still had the magic touch in the kitchen.
The fairies flew farther. The trees grew close together here. Their leaves blocked the dimming sunlight.
“Oof!” Dulcie flew right into a pine tree branch. Thick, sticky ooze stuck to her wings. “What is it?” she cried.
Lily rushed over to wipe it off. “It’s only sap. It’s all right, Dulcie.”
Dulcie shivered. “This place is spooky.” Shadows danced around the leaves. Twisted branches seemed to jump into her path.
Dulcie started at a long, skinny shape in front of her.
“Watch out, Lily! There’s a snake!” Dulcie shouted.
“It’s just a stick,” Lily said.
Dulcie was sure she saw a hawk overhead, then a fox on the ground. “Relax,” Lily kept telling her. “You’re imagining things.”
The trees drew even closer together.
“We’re in the briar now,” Lily called out. “Be careful of thistles and burrs!”
“Ouch!” Something sharp poked Dulcie. “Ouch!” It happened again and again. She felt like a piecrust being pinched at the edges.
Meanwhile, Lily flew gracefully on. She seemed to know where each plant and tree stood.
“Hang on, Dulcie,” Lily called. “We’re almost there.”
Dulcie saw the red-gold sun setting behind the trees. She looked ahead. Was that a clearing in front of them?
Suddenly, something gripped her tightly. And this time, it wasn’t Dulcie’s imagination.
A long, thin leaf wrapped itself around her waist. She stared up at the towering plant. Bright blue petals formed a mouth. The flower bent hungrily toward her.
“Let me go!” she said. But the leaf gripped her more firmly.
Up, up. The leaf lifted her higher, toward the mouth. The petals opened wide.
Dulcie pounded on the leaf with her fists. But it just squeezed more tightly. It was squeezing her so hard, she couldn’t call for help.
Dulcie gasped. She—who loved to bake more than anything—was going to
be eaten!
“Don’t move!” a voice whispered in her ear.
Lily hovered an inch away. “It’s a snareweed plant. It must think you’re a fly. But it only eats live bugs. If you don’t move, it will let you go.”
Dulcie took a small breath. She held her body still.
Nothing happened.
She stayed like that for ten seconds. Twenty seconds.
“You’re doing great,” Lily whispered.
A minute.
Finally, the leaf loosened. “Keep still!” Lily whispered again. “It has to let go completely.”
A few more seconds passed. The leaf dropped away altogether.
Dulcie was free! Quickly, she flew out of the leaf’s reach.
“Lily, you saved me!” she said. She hugged her friend.
Lily patted her back. “Those fly-eaters always scare the fairy dust off me! But look!” She pointed through the trees.
Dulcie spied an arch of bending boughs. It was the entrance to the clearing.
“It’s the Never Arbor!” Lily ex-claimed. She darted away, out of sight.
“Lily?” Dulcie called. She flew a few inches forward.
She waited a moment, listening. Then she called again. “Lily? Where are you?”
There was no answer.
“Lily! Lily!” Dulcie shouted. Had Lily flown too far to hear? Or had she been caught by another fly-eating plant?
“Lily!”
She strained to listen. Then she heard a faint voice. “Dulcie…”
“Lily?” Dulcie flew toward the sound, through the arch of bending branches.
“I’m over here!” The voice grew louder. “And I’ve found it! I’ve found the creeping treacle vine!”
DULCIE STOPPED short in the clearing. For a moment—just a moment—she didn’t care about the creeping treacle vine. Or about the Comfort Cake, or even about Ginger. The Never Arbor pushed everything else out of her mind.
“It’s amazing!” Dulcie whispered. Lily flew over to join her. Together, they gazed around.
Slender cypresses, grand cedars, and blossoming almond trees circled the open space.
Bluebells, marigolds, and other wildflowers grew by the dozens. Yellow, orange, and aquamarine petals covered the ground like a soft carpet. The setting sun cast a red glow over the flowers, plants, and trees.
Dulcie turned around slowly. She took in every view.
“It is beautiful,” Lily agreed. “We must be the first fairies to see this place since…since…I don’t know when.”
Lily took Dulcie’s hand. She led her through a sweet-smelling tangle of ferns. A boulder stood at the end. A long flowered vine wound around the rock. One end crept forward like an inchworm. The rest followed.
“This is it,” said Lily. “The creeping treacle vine.”
“You really did find it!” Dulcie said. She took a jug out of her pea-pod pack. “Now what?”
“We’ll just take some syrup.” Lily knelt next to the vine. She whispered something Dulcie couldn’t hear. Then she gently lifted one end. Syrup dripped out.
Dulcie held out the jug to catch the treacle. Then, carefully, Lily put the vine back in place.
Dulcie grinned. “Let’s go!”
The friends flew through the Never Arbor, back through the briar and the dark woods.
It’s funny, Dulcie thought. It seems much quicker going home. But maybe that’s because I know the way.
The places weren’t as scary anymore. They were almost familiar. Dulcie even waved to the snareweed plant from a distance. It was only doing what it was supposed to do.
It was late by the time they got back to the Home Tree. Dulcie hugged Lily. “You really helped me,” she said.
“I’m glad I went.” Lily smiled, then yawned. “Whew! I’m going right to sleep.”
“Good night,” Dulcie said. But she wasn’t going to sleep. Now, in the dark of night, was the perfect time to start baking. No one would be in the kitchen.
Excited, she flew to her room. “I have the treacle!” she announced. She picked up the recipe. “Now what should I do?”
Leaf symbols slowly formed. Dulcie squinted. Was she translating this right? She expected to see “heat” and “stir” and “mix.” Instead, she read only two words: “Goode Lucke.”
That was it. Good luck.
Dulcie had no directions. No instructions. She’d have to rely on her own talents from here on. Alone in the kitchen, she washed her hands.
Then she pulled out baking pans. Big ones. Small ones. Round ones. Square ones. Star-shaped and heart-shaped pans that Tink had made especially for her.
Next she found the nutshell mixing bowls. Five different sizes, each one nesting inside the other. Then came whisks and spoons and knives and forks. “And finally,” said Dulcie, “the ingredients!”
It was the middle of the night, but Dulcie felt wide awake. She poured and mixed. She stirred and blended. She sprinkled and drizzled.
Somehow, deep in her bones, Dulcie knew just what to do. Which bowl to use for what. When to add each ingredient.
As she worked, she hummed to herself.
Hours passed. Dulcie kept baking, lost in her work.
Finally, she dripped two drops of treacle into each of the five mixing bowls. Then she poured all the batter into one giant pan. She wiped her hands on her leaf apron. There. It was done. She opened the oven.
But she hesitated. That deep-down feeling—that certainty of what to do—was gone.
The recipe was called Comfort Cake. And it used certain ingredients. But that was all Dulcie knew, really. What exactly had she made?
And how long should it stay in the oven?
“Oh, I hope I did everything right.” Dulcie hefted the heavy pan and slid it inside.
The oven door closed with a quiet clank.
Dulcie sighed and gazed around the kitchen. The counters were piled high with dirty pans. The sink overflowed with unwashed bowls. Sugar and flour coated the floor.
“What a mess!” Dulcie whispered. She didn’t have the strength to speak more loudly. All her energy drained away. She felt tired to the bone. She pulled out a chair and sat down. She’d rest, just for a moment, before cleaning up.
SUNLIGHT STREAMED through the window. Voices whispered above Dulcie’s head. “It looks like a tornado hit the kitchen.” “Shhh! Dulcie’s sleeping.” “Should we wake her?” “What’s going on?”
Then one loud voice rang out. “My kitchen! Something has to be done about this!”
Dulcie jumped to her feet, wide awake. It was Ginger who had spoken.
Everyone fell silent.
Dulcie gazed from face to face. First she looked at Ginger, whose cheeks blazed with anger. Then she turned to the worried-looking Dunkin and Mixie. Finally, she glanced at all the other baking and cooking talents.
She felt so nervous, she couldn’t speak. This was it. The cake had to be ready by now.
If she failed, would she ever be able to bake again?
“Well?” Ginger tapped her foot. “We’re waiting for an explanation.”
“Ahem.” Dulcie cleared her throat. She told them about finding the ancient recipe. About gathering the ingredients. About staying up all night to bake. And finally, about wanting to create something no one had ever tasted before. As she talked, she could hear fairies coming into the tearoom.
Slam! The oven door banged open. Dulcie whirled around. Ginger was peeking inside.
Smiling, she turned to Dulcie. “Well,” she said briskly, “let’s serve Dulcie’s surprise for breakfast. See what everyone thinks!”
Dulcie was amazed. Ginger wanted to serve the cake? Not keep it secret from all the fairies? Her heart soared. Maybe Ginger understood how Dulcie felt about baking. Maybe they could work together!
Or maybe…
Dulcie pulled out the pan. “Oh, no!” she cried.
The cake was flat. Just like the poppy puff rolls, it hadn’t risen. Not one little bit.
In a flash, Ginge
r snatched the cake. She hurried through the kitchen doors. “Look, everyone!” she exclaimed. “Dulcie’s masterpiece!”
Dulcie rushed after Ginger. But it was too late. The tearoom was full of fairies. Queen Clarion, Tinker Bell, Lily—everyone stared at the cake.
One by one, the fairies edged closer. They sniffed. They craned their necks. They shook their heads.
“What is it?” Tinker Bell finally asked.
“I know! It’s some kind of new-fangled bread,” Iris said. “That’s why it’s flat.”
“No, no,” Queen Clarion said kindly. “Let’s have Dulcie tell us.”
Lily nodded. “Go ahead, Dulcie.”
Dulcie held back a sob. “Well, it’s supposed to be Comfort Cake.”
“Comfort Cake?” Ginger said as Dulcie placed it on a table. “This can’t be comfort food. Anyone who ate this would feel terrible!”
“I—I—I just wanted everyone to feel good,” Dulcie stammered. “That’s why I bake. To fill fairies with goodness.”
And it was true, she realized. She didn’t run the kitchen just to boss other fairies around. She didn’t give orders just to make herself feel important. Well, at least she wouldn’t anymore. No. The day before, she hadn’t missed that part of her job at all. She had missed the baking. She had missed creating something for others to enjoy.
And, oh, how she wanted to go back to work!
“WELL, THAT’S IT, folks,” Ginger said after a minute. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my kitchen. How do lemon popovers sound?”
“Yummy!” said Iris.
Everyone turned to go back to their seats. A few fairies patted Dulcie on the back.
Dulcie slumped. She’d go back to the kitchen, too. She’d help Ginger. She’d do whatever the other fairy said. No matter what, she had to keep baking. Even if it meant taking orders from Ginger.
“Wait, everyone!” Queen Clarion’s voice rang through the room. “Look!”
Dulcie whirled around. All the fairies and sparrow men fluttered back.