The Odd Sisters

by Serena Valentino

  “What is this about?” asked Nanny.

  “My mothers put a memory charm on Gothel’s cook, Mrs. Tiddlebottom, and now that I’ve taken away my mothers’ powers, most of their spells are waning. Snow is afraid Mrs. Tiddlebottom will be overwhelmed once she regains all of her memories.”

  Nanny thought about it, gleaning more information from Circe’s and Snow’s memories of their visit to Mrs. Tiddlebottom before they came to Morningstar. She also caught some of Gothel’s story. “I think Snow is right. The poor woman may need someone there to help her.”

  Nanny eyed Snow White, wondering what she was up to. She believed Snow was worried about Mrs. Tiddlebottom and her charges, Primrose and Hazel—she could see it in her mind—but she also felt there was something more to this odd request. And she was surprised Snow was able to keep it to herself. Perhaps it was nothing more than guilt for not staying with Mrs. Tiddlebottom and Gothel’s sisters longer. She knew Circe felt ashamed for leaving them alone so soon; that had been on Circe’s mind. Perhaps Snow also felt ashamed. But why was she making this request now, in the middle of a crisis? Nanny didn’t understand it. And then she grasped it, the real reason, hiding in the shadows of Snow’s mind: something about looking for the missing pages from the book of fairy tales in Gothel’s library, which was still at Mrs. Tiddlebottom’s house. Interesting.

  “I won’t have you so far from us, Snow. I want you here, where we can protect you,” said Circe, not reading Nanny’s thoughts, focused as she was on her cousin.

  “And what about Mrs. Tiddlebottom? Who will protect her?” Snow’s lip started to tremble. She turned abruptly and left the room.

  “Circe, go with her. You told me yourself you were worried about Primrose and Hazel,” said Nanny.

  “Did I?”

  “Well, not with words, dear,” Nanny said with a wink.

  “It’s true I did leave them much sooner than I wanted in my haste to get back to you.”

  “Leave everything to me, as we discussed earlier. I have a feeling there are answers in Gothel’s library that will help you decide what to do about your mothers.”

  “What do you mean, Nanny?”

  “You should ask Snow. I think there is more to this little trip than checking in on Mrs. Tiddlebottom and her sleeping beauties.”

  Circe perched the odd sisters’ house in a field filled with brilliant golden wildflowers at twilight, just as her mothers had done years earlier. Mrs. Tiddlebottom’s cottage was silhouetted against a periwinkle sky and surrounded by an overgrown garden with blossoming trees that filled the air with a sticky-sweet scent. Beyond the wildflower field were the cliffs overlooking the ocean.

  Snow remembered the scene in Gothel’s story in which Gothel snuck out of the cellar to revive herself with the flower before the soldiers came to seize it for their queen. Snow never pictured her as the old witch. She always saw her as young and vibrant with her sisters. And being there in that place where Gothel had felt so alone made Snow’s heart ache for all Gothel’s hopes and dreams that never had the chance to come true.

  Circe and Snow called out to Mrs. Tiddlebottom as they approached the back door, hoping she would pop her sweet face out the kitchen door to say hello, but she didn’t respond.

  “Mrs. Tiddlebottom?”

  The women found Mrs. Tiddlebottom sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by marzipan animals and beautifully decorated birthday cakes. The sweet confections covered the kitchen table and all of the counters, and they were balanced on the window ledges.

  “Mrs. Tiddlebottom? It’s me, Snow White. I’ve come with Circe to check on you.” The woman said nothing; she just stared off into the distance. “Circe, I think she could use a cup of tea,” said Snow, taking the old woman gently by the hand and trying to rouse her.

  When Circe went to take the teapot out of the cabinet, she noticed the candy menagerie had been piled on plates, in bowls, and inside the teacups. She took a marzipan kitten off the top of the teapot and checked inside before preparing the tea.

  “Mrs. Tiddlebottom? Do you remember us?” Snow White’s heart broke as she looked at the poor woman, who hadn’t even noticed them yet. “Mrs. Tiddlebottom?”

  The woman finally raised her gaze, and her face lit up when she saw Snow White. “Of course I remember you, dear! I’m so happy you’ve come back!” Snow White hugged the old woman tightly. “I would offer to make you some tea, but I see sweet Circe is already taking care of things.”

  Circe blushed. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Tiddlebottom. I thought it would be nice for you to have someone wait on you for a change.”

  The old woman smiled. “Don’t you fret, dear. I am happy you’re here.”

  “I see you’ve been busy,” Snow White said, smiling at the confections scattered around the kitchen.

  “Yes, I suppose I have.” Mrs. Tiddlebottom looked around the room as if she didn’t know how all the animals had gotten there.

  “Maybe we should go into the sitting room or the library while Circe makes us some tea,” Snow White said, shooting a concerned look at Circe.

  “Oh, I never go into the library. Never! Never the library or the cellar,” said the befogged old woman.

  “Well, I hope you don’t mind my going into Gothel’s old library later, Mrs. Tiddlebottom. There are some books in there I think might be of use to us.”

  Mrs. Tiddlebottom gave Snow a sly look. “Oh, I don’t think Gothel would mind. It’s not like she can object now, can she?” she said, laughing. “Why don’t you just take them? I’d be happy to be rid of the foul things!” She seemed to remember something unpleasant.

  “Come on, let’s go to the sitting room, Mrs. T.” Snow ushered Mrs. Tiddlebottom through the kitchen and dining room, to the lovely little sitting room. The room was cozy and old-fashioned; the walls were covered in brown wallpaper splashed with delicate pink flowers, and the tables with white lace doilies. A perfect home for an old woman. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Tiddlebottom?” The sweet woman looked as if she was considering her answer, but never got around to voicing it. “Mrs. Tiddlebottom?” Snow sat down next to her and took her by the hand. “Mrs. Tiddlebottom, is there anything I can do for you?”

  Just then Circe came into the room, carrying a heaping tray. “Ladies, I have the tea. And I’ve made some little sandwiches.”

  Mrs. Tiddlebottom looked up at Circe and smiled. “Thank you, dear. I was just about to tell Snow she shouldn’t worry about poor old Mrs. Tiddlebottom. I’m fine, dears. Just fine. I have everything I could ever need. Not very many can say that.”

  Circe put the tea tray down and poured cups for the three of them.

  “How are your sleeping beauties?” she asked.

  Mrs. Tiddlebottom got a sparkle in her eye and seemed to stir from her waking slumber at the mention of her charges. “Oh, they’re just fine. Just fine.”

  Circe passed Mrs. Tiddlebottom a cup of tea. “Snow was worried you might be a little overwhelmed now that your memories are coming back. We wanted to make sure you are okay.”

  Mrs. Tiddlebottom put down her tea and reached out for Circe’s hand. “Come, sit down with us.” Circe sat on the other side of Mrs. Tiddlebottom. “I remember everything. And I’m fine. I promise. I’m just very tired.” Snow kissed the old woman on the cheek. “You’re such a dear, but really, you girls worry too much.” Circe passed Mrs. Tiddlebottom the plate of little sandwiches. “Thank you, dear. May I ask why you’re really here? Is it about those books? Oh, don’t get me wrong, I know you have kind hearts, the two of you, but this old woman’s fairy tale is over. I’ve done my duty and protected the sleeping beauties, but my job is done, and what I want now more than anything else is to rest.”

  “What do you mean your job is done?”

  “I mean just that, dears. Primrose and Hazel, they woke up a few days ago.”

  “What? Woke up? But how?” said Circe, getting to her feet. “Where are they?”

  “They said they were going home, my dear.”
<
br />   “Home? But how were they brought back to life? How did it happen?”

  Mrs. Tiddlebottom smiled. “The flowers, dear. It was the flowers. Didn’t you see them when you came in?”

  Circe rushed to the window and gasped at the glowing lights coming from the field. “Snow! Look!” The field was filled with brilliant golden flowers. Their light was so bright Circe could see it reflected on Snow White’s face. “Mrs. Tiddlebottom, where did these flowers come from?”

  Mrs. Tiddlebottom laughed. “Oh, those are Gothel’s flowers.”

  Snow and Circe looked at each other, thunderstruck. “The magic flowers? But how did they get here?”

  Mrs. Tiddlebottom laughed again. “Well, dears, they grew, like flowers tend to do.”

  It had been many years since Nanny had visited the Fairylands. She never thought she would return after she had helped her sister rebuild it. But now her life had traveled full circle, coming back to this place after Maleficent’s death.

  She felt the loss of her more profoundly there in the Fairylands, the place where she had raised and loved Maleficent like her own daughter. Remembering the wonderful, smart, and gifted girl she had been. Remembering how her sister had played a part in the destruction of the person she had loved most in the world. But taking a page out of Grimhilde’s book, she pushed her feelings deep within her, where they were harder to access. After all, her sister had suffered for her part in Maleficent’s death, and she had been admonished by Oberon. Nanny and the Fairy Godmother had forged a tentative bond—one Nanny was afraid of breaking. So she pushed down her feelings. She put them in a place she didn’t have to deal with just then. A place where Maleficent lived within her, a secret, private place where the little girl she loved could reside without devouring her from the inside.

  She almost longed for the days before she had discovered her true identity—the days when she was just Tulip’s nanny, before Pflanze woke her from her long slumber. Things had been so much easier then.

  Now, as she looked around the Fairylands, all those feelings she had been struggling to push deep within her bubbled up. For there was her old cottage, and there was Maleficent’s tree house, right where she had left it. The sight of it made her cry. She cried over the loss of her adopted daughter, and she cried over giving Aurora to the three good fairies. She cried for all of it. And she cried for herself. But she had to be strong. She had Tulip and Circe to look after now. Though something told her she needn’t worry about Tulip any longer. She was becoming the woman Nanny had always known she would be. Circe had set Tulip on that path. She was now smart, adventurous, and independent. She couldn’t be prouder of her princess.

  Circe was the one who needed Nanny now. Circe was in real danger, because she saw the paths that lay before her. And Nanny thought she knew the road Circe would take. It struck a terrible fear within her heart.

  Yes, it was better that Circe was off with Snow White. Better that she wasn’t here while the fairies decided her mothers’ fate. She didn’t think Circe could take hearing one more horrible story about them or some wretched thing they had done in the name of protecting her. She knew the fairies would come to the same conclusions as Circe. The sisters should never be set free. Nanny knew Circe would never be able to thrive in the shadow of her mothers. She would never be able to reach her full potential if she had to keep cleaning up after the maelstrom of her mothers’ destructive forces. She would spend the rest of her life making amends for her mothers’ foul deeds if they were unleashed on the many kingdoms. The thought was unfathomable.

  As Nanny opened her old cottage door, it was like being punched in the chest. The pain of being back there was so alive within her it felt as though this was the place she kept all her secrets, all her pain, all her suffering. It wasn’t within her at all; it was here in this cottage. She knew she couldn’t stay. Not so close to Maleficent’s tree house. Not in the kitchen where she’d fretted over Maleficent’s fairy exams. Not in the place she’d spent the most beautiful and painful days of her life.

  “Sister, I knew it was a mistake to bring you back here. I can see it on your face.” Nanny had almost forgotten her sister was by her side.

  “You were right, my dear sister. Can I stay with you after all?”

  The Fairy Godmother nodded. “Of course you can.”

  As she closed the door to her old cottage, and the two fairies made their way to the Fairy Godmother’s home, Nanny tried to leave her pain behind. That was where she had been stuffing all her pain, not deep within herself as she had imagined. There wasn’t room for much else with Maleficent residing there, so her pain lived in her old cottage, and that was where it would stay until she was ready to revisit it. The farther down the path she got, the less severe her suffering was, until she felt it only in the distant familiar way she had grown to live with. This she could manage. She had lived too many lifetimes, and the memories of those lifetimes were too great to carry around with her. Too heavy. She was happy she had a place to put them.

  “Did you say we would be meeting with the other council members today, unofficially, to decide how to proceed?”

  The Fairy Godmother gave her sister a sly look. “I hadn’t said so, but I was about to.” The ladies laughed.

  “Well, I think that is a good idea. Who is on the council now besides you and me?” asked Nanny.

  “The three good fairies, the Blue Fairy, and Oberon if he chooses.”

  Nanny reminded herself that she wanted to send a firefly to Oberon with a message about the meeting in the event her sister had conveniently forgotten. “Do you still employ fireflies to send messages, my sister? I want to send one to Oberon.”

  The Fairy Godmother wrinkled her nose. “Oberon hears all, my sister, there is no need to summon him. Besides, I am sure he is busy with Tulip, healing the wounded Tree Lords.”

  Nanny shrugged her sister off. “Well, I want to send him a letter nonetheless, and I’d like to know how Tulip is doing. So if you could direct me to some paper and a quill when we get to your cottage, I would appreciate it.”

  “Well, here we are now.” The two fairies had arrived at the Fairy Godmother’s cottage. “Oh! Look at this!” The Fairy Godmother clapped her hands together in delight. “Isn’t it lovely?”

  The good fairies had apparently been very busy while awaiting their arrival. Fauna, Merryweather, and Flora had decorated the cottage in pink and blue sashes, large glittering bows, and festive banners. The house looked like one of Mrs. Tiddlebottom’s birthday cakes, but far more garish. Nanny had forgotten her sister lived in such an idyllic cottage, with its perfect white picket fence and trestles covered in frosting-pink flowers. It was like something out of a fairy tale, and then Nanny laughed. This was a fairy tale. They were in the Fairylands, after all.

  The three good fairies flitted around the Fairy Godmother like buzzing bees, zooming to and fro and lavishing her with greetings, love, and admiration. And then came a litany of rapid-fire questions that made Nanny’s head spin, each of the fairies talking over the others. “So what is this I hear? Have the odd sisters really brought Maleficent back to life?” “Do you think she will be in her dragon form?” “You don’t think she can bring back Ursula, do you?” The questions went on unceasingly until Nanny loudly cleared her throat.

  “Fairies, fairies, please,” the Fairy Godmother said. “I would like to get my sister inside and settled. We can discuss all of this at the council meeting later this afternoon.” The three good fairies blushed; they had forgotten to greet Nanny. “Yes, of course, we’re so sorry!” said the three fairies. “We will get everything ready for our meeting while you settle in.” And they flitted away before Nanny could say hello or good-bye. She laughed, remembering why she hated the Fairylands. How frivolous and silly fairies were, even though she was one herself. It was why she had decided not to wear her wings, and to identify as a witch.

  As if she could hear Nanny’s thoughts, the Fairy Godmother said, “You realize you will have to wear yo
ur wings for the meeting, my sister.” Though Nanny’s sister didn’t share her gift of mind reading, she could often read Nanny’s expressions and guess what she might have been thinking.

  Nanny frowned. “What about Circe? If she takes your offer, will you fashion her a pair of wings and make her wear them? She is a true witch and has no fairy blood within her, yet you have offered her an honorary wish-granting-fairy position.”

  Nanny’s sister stamped her foot in frustration. “But you are a fairy! And you should be proud!”

  Nanny didn’t want to argue with her. She had to remember her sister had taken on the responsibility of ruling the Fairylands for many years and she really was doing the best job she knew how to do, without Nanny’s help or Oberon’s. And now Nanny and Oberon were back, telling the Fairy Godmother she’d been doing everything wrong when she had just been doing it the way she’d learned and the way she thought was right. Nanny saw that clearly for the first time and decided she would help her sister make changes in stages; otherwise it would turn the Fairylands upside down. Nanny intended to change everything. She would just have to see what the other fairies had to say. She knew the three good fairies would take the Fairy Godmother’s side, but she was almost sure the Blue Fairy would agree with her. And Oberon, well, he always chose what was right.

  The more Nanny had thought about it, the more she had come to believe it was the fairies’ duty to take care of all those in need—not just the princesses. And that would surely come out at the odd sisters’ trial. If Grimhilde and Ursula had had fairies to intervene on their behalf, perhaps the odd sisters wouldn’t have destroyed them with their foul, meddling magic.

  Nanny knew that wouldn’t make sense to someone like the Fairy Godmother—someone sworn by oath to protect the innocent, whether that be a princess in need or a little boy brought to life by the wish of a doll maker. And that meant bringing more fairies into the council, and witches, like Circe, to change the way fairies had been doing their magic for centuries. Their first change would be Nanny taking the Fairy Godmother’s place as the head of the Fairylands, but that, too, would have to happen slowly, for fear of hurting her sister.