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put his hand to his face. “But a little magick is better than no magick at all.”
    â€œDoing what?” Faria asked as she swept back into the room carrying a pitcher. She set it on the table and wiped her hands on her apron. Turning to her husband, she pecked him on the cheek and smiled at Reed. “Let her see you doing what, dear?”
    Leif’s face lit up like a strawberry in the meadow. The hair on his ears shivered. If his momma knew he’d had the dishes enchanted too, he would be in a lot of trouble—and so would Aletta. He shuffled his feet, trying to think of something that would appease her curiosity.
    â€œHe was trying to spin a plate on his finger, like the minstrel who visited the Wedge last month,” Reed answered. “Right, Leif?”
    Leif smiled at his little brother. “Uh, yeah, right.”
    Their mother pulled out her chair and sat down, folding her hands in her lap. “Well, you know how I feel about thatkind of mischief…especially with those dishes. You know they were passed down—”
    â€œFrom your great-great-great-grandmother, yes, we know,” Leif sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean up the table and wash the dishes for you after dinner to make up.”
    A little smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “That will be fine, dear. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
    Farmer Burrbridge patted his wife’s shoulder. “You’re such a softie, Faria.”
    Leif’s mother shooed him to his seat at the head of the table. “Oh, do sit down, Richard, and eat your meal.”
    â€œFather,” Leif began as Mr. Burrbridge sat down, “piskies have invaded our house.”
    â€œWhat?” Farmer Burrbridge laughed. “Never. What would the neighbors say?” He waggled his furry brows at Faria and grinned.
    â€œBut Father…” Leif tried again.
    â€œOh Leif, no more nonsense,” his mother said. “It’s time for dinner. Gather hands, all around.”
    Leif reluctantly held out his hands, clasping one with his father on the left and the other with Reed on his right. His father squeezed his hand and Leif sighed. “Bless us this meal. Thank the earth from which it came and the kitchen from which it was prepared.”
    And let’s hope the little thieves don’t steal it all.

Chapter 4
    T he wagon wheels kept jamming in the ruts of the bumpy forest road. Mae could tell by the jarring that the two-track path they had turned onto was not traveled often. The trolls would have to rock the wagon back and forth to free the wheels, sending the ponies into fits of bucking and kicking and the troll queen into frenzied madness at their inability to travel as fast as she wanted. Mae gleaned all of this information in the anxious hours of the night, while the hapennies and Callum slept in an enchanted slumber around her.
    As the first streaks of a gray dawn touched the horizon, Tory Longbridge moaned. His eyes blinked open and he looked around bleary-eyed.
    Mae put her hand over his mouth. He searched her face, his forehead wrinkling, questions flashing in his eyes. Putting her finger to her lips, Mae made a shushing face. When Tory nodded, she removed her hand from his mouth. Tory leaned toward her and motioned for her to come closer—although they were already packed into the bed of the wagon like pickles in a jar. She tilted her head so that his lips tickled the hair on her ears. Her heart step-danced against her ribs.
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Tory asked. He tilted his ear toward her for the answer.
    Mae found herself wondering if the fur on the backs of his ears shone like strands of copper in the light. “The maidenwho came to us for help,” she whispered, “is a troll queen! Everyone is under an enchantment of some kind.”
    Tory nodded, the frown lines returning to his brow. He leaned in again. “Why do you suppose I woke up?”
    Mae