Free The Last of the Firedrakes by Farah Oomerbhoy Page A

marriage.”
    Kalen grinned again. “Try and get some rest, Aurora, tonight we will go to the night market.”

7
    The Midnight Market
    Later that night, after I had eaten well and rested, we set out for the midnight market. I followed Kalen along the small path, from Pixie Bush into the very heart of Goldleaf Forest. The full moon shone brightly through the rustling leaves, and the forest path was dappled with dancing specks of silver that flitted ahead of us, guiding the way. It was strange how the whole forest seemed to be awake for the market. Birds chirped high above us, and little forest animals poked their heads out of the bushes just in time for me to see them before they disappeared again into the dense undergrowth.
    Mrs. Plumpleberry had healed my hands and my feet with a magical ointment she made herself. I had changed into a pretty linen dress, dyed a lovely emerald green, with wide bell sleeves. It was bound at the waist with a green-and-gold-trimmed sash and flowed down to my ankles. My feet were wrapped in soft muslin bandages, and I wore supple leather boots, which belonged to Kalen’s older sister. When I looked in the mirror after getting dressed, I was stunned at the transformation. In my normal jeans or tracks I looked like a gawky teenager, but in this dress I felt like a grown-up.
    The night air was chilly in the forest, and Penelope had very generously given me a brown woolen cloak to keep myself warm. I was grateful for her kindness and sound advice, and I hoped I would be able to pay her back someday.
    “Your mom is very sweet,” I said to Kalen, as we walked quickly down the forest path. “She seems to know a lot.”
    “Oh, Mother knows everything,” said Kalen, picking up a pebble. “She is a very old fae, after all.”
    “Is she? She doesn’t look very old to me,” I said, confused.
    “Mother is three hundred and ninety-three summers old,” said Kalen.
    “Three hundred and ninety-three years old,” I repeated, aghast. Penelope didn’t look a day over forty.
    Kalen nodded. “Our race ages very slowly. She will only start looking old when she has completed a thousand summers,” he said. “She is one of the elders of the village—but her magic is still strong and she is a gifted healer. Many have come to her for help over the years. Once she even helped your granduncle, when he was injured in the woods not far from here.”
    It seemed to me that we had been walking for quite a while when I could suddenly hear voices and noises quite clearly in the quiet forest. We came to a large clearing, and the delightful sight left me spellbound. The forest was alive, radiant and subtly lit by pretty, different-colored lanterns hanging from the towering trees. Beautifully decorated stalls and multicolored tents had sprung up all over the place. Some were nestled between the tall trees, and some were haphazardly placed around the edge of the clearing, forming a slightly wonky circle. Fae of all sizes, shapes and colors wandered around, having a marvelous time. There were dryads, naiads, brownies, and little pixies with wings who flitted about the place in groups, laughing and eating at the food stalls.
    We came to a stall, which was manned by a small, funny-looking fae with a pointy nose and long ears. Kalen identified him as a gnome. He was selling some strangely colored liquid in glass bottles and was haggling unashamedly about prices with two old ladies, whom I thought were very sweet.
    As we walked through the market, Kalen chattered on.
    “Although some of the larger towns have shops that sell magical ingredients for potions,” Kalen was saying, “this is the only place you can find some of the really rare items.”
    I followed Kalen, who was entering a green tent, where the sign outside read: “Buy a plant for your home and garden.” That sounded quite interesting. Maybe I could buy a plant for Kalen’s mom—she had really helped me, after all—but I remembered I didn’t have any