After dinner that night, Mithril Lid Pod—who had finally recovered from his hangover—threw a fit when Anne told him how work with the fairies had gone, shouting, “Don’t those guys have any gumption?!”
The evening meal had been served at a long table in the lesser hall on the second floor, with the humans and fairies all together. However, no one had spoken, and only the faint noises of silverware scraping against dishes had filled the room.
The atmosphere had been dire.
Mithril had initially sat down in high spirits, excited to have so many fellow fairies gathered in one place. He had called out cheerfully to those around him, “Hi there, nice to meet you,” but upon receiving an utterly frigid reception, he quickly fell silent.
After dinner was over, the new fairies all went back to their rooms.
Meanwhile, Anne, Keith, and Kat, as well as Challe, Mithril, and Benjamin, moved to the workshop on the first floor to think about how to handle things going forward.
The three candy crafters pulled over some stools and gathered around a single workbench. When Anne and Keith told the others how things had gone that day, Mithril grew indignant.
Mithril struck a daunting pose atop the bench, ranting energetically. “You oughtta fire ’em all! I’ll become an amazing silver sugar fairy in their place—I’m worth a hundred of those guys!”
“Would you be so excited to work if you were plucked fresh from the fairy market and ordered to train as a candy crafter? Think about it,” Challe asked indifferently. He was leaning against a nearby wall. “Besides, I hardly need to say this, but the idea of you becoming a silver sugar fairy is absurd.”
“What’s so impossible about it?! I’ll show you my skills! Hey, Benjamin, help me out here.”
Mithril leaped nimbly down from the workbench, squared up his shoulders, and headed for one of the barrels where the silver sugar was stored.
Benjamin, who’d been dozing atop Kat’s shoulder, answered with a “fwahh” that was more yawn than reply, then sluggishly descended from his spot.
Kat folded his arms thoughtfully and frowned. “It’s like Challe says. But we’ve gotta get those fairies motivated somehow, or else, what are we doin’ here? That dim-witted bastard told us we gotta make somethin’ of ’em in two months, then headed home with a grin on his face.”
“Why are they all so uninterested, do you think?” Anne asked.
“They said that even if they become silver sugar fairies, they’ll just be candy-making slaves in the end,” said Challe.
“Mr. Hingley,” said Keith, “you did explain to them they’ll be able to get their wings back once they are recognized as candy crafters, right?”
Kat furrowed his brow even more. “Sure did. That’s the biggest merit for them. But they don’t believe me. You saw how sour they were.”
For the seven days the fairies were on loan, the fairy dealers would retain custody of their wings. The Silver Sugar Viscount had arranged to purchase, at a special discounted price, the wings of any fairies who showed talent. He would take responsibility for those fairies, and they would train as candy crafters at Hollyleaf Castle.
But even if they showed talent, the Silver Sugar Viscount would still hold on to their wings for a while longer. As one might expect, Hugh was anxious about giving their wings back right away. It was possible the fairies would flee without completing their training, and if that happened, not only would the plan stall, but it would also be a huge waste of money. Before long, the entire enterprise would collapse.
However, Hugh had promised to consider returning their wings if and when they learned the trade and agreed to earnestly live and work as candy crafters. He even claimed that was his goal.
They intended for the fairies to choose the vocation of candy crafter of their own volition and practice their trade in the workshops just like humans. That was what Anne had envisioned when she’d met Lulu. It was also the ideal outcome for the candy crafting workshops.
But when it came down to it, fairies did not trust humans.
“It won’t matter how many promises we make,” said Anne.
The humans had created this situation, and there was nothing they could say to win back the fairies’ trust.
“But wait, if a human’s promise is no good, then how about a fairy’s?”
Anne asked this aloud to no one in particular, and someone cracked up behind her.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Mithril was up on the workbench, cackling with his hands on his hips. Then he gave a big thumbs-up to Anne, Keith, and Kat.
“Great idea, Anne! It’s our time to shine! Basically, we just need to show them there are already fairies cooperating with you of their own free will. The great Mithril Lid Pod will become their leader and guide them on their journey to becoming candy crafters! Check out what I’m capable of! I whipped this up in only a few moments. Take a look at my quick work!”
Mithril declared this proudly, then nimbly leaped aside, revealing a strange, messy lump behind him. It appeared to be a mass of silver sugar, but its rough, puckered surface was colored with a mixture of blacks, browns, and dark greens, and it was covered in cracks and strange protuberances all over.
“That’s…quite the…avant-garde…piece…”
Keith hemmed and hawed, but Kat addressed Mithril directly.
“Is that awful lump some sort of object for cursing people?”
“No! Are you blind?! This is Anne’s face!” shouted Mithril.
“Me?!”
“That thing is supposed to be a sculpture?!”
Anne and Keith raised their voices at the same time and widened their eyes.
“Last year for Anne’s birthday, I made her a candy sculpture of her face. This is my second try, and I think it turned out even better!”
Fairies were generally more skilled than humans at working with silver sugar. But evidently, there were exceptions. Mithril was undeniably hopeless at it, yet he appeared extremely proud of himself.
Challe screwed up his face. “Anne might be a scarecrow brain, but she’s nowhere near that awful-looking.”
“‘Awful,’ you say?! What’s awful about this?!” Mithril exclaimed.
“If you think it’s so great, then eat it yourself. If the form is good, the taste should be, too.”
“Don’t you mock me. In that case, I’ll keep this all for myself—no sharing! Don’t come crying to me later!”
Mithril embraced his strange candy sculpture and inhaled deeply, as if he was sucking in a big breath of air. He then placed his hands on the swamp-colored candy, and his palms began to glow. The spots he was touching collapsed a bit as the candy turned to light and flowed into him.
“Oh… Aaauuugh!!”
The moment he took in the sugar, Mithril leaped back from the candy, spun around quickly two or three times, and collapsed. After that, he ceased to move.
“Mithril Lid Pod!”
Anne shouted his name and rose to her feet as Benjamin toddled over and peered into his face. Once he had checked on Mithril, Benjamin raised his head with a buoyant smile.
“He’ll be okay,” said the little fairy. “Seems like he felt so bad he became temporarily paralyzed. But remember, as much as that lump looks like deadly poison, it’s just sugar candy. So there’s no need to worry. It’s harmless.”
“I wouldn’t call something that can paralyze a fairy ‘harmless’… It’s practically a weapon…”
Kat was pale, and he seemed shocked that Mithril had transformed silver sugar, a sacred food that could extend the life span of fairies, into a toxic substance.
Challe stared coldly at Mithril as if he’d expected all this. But when Mithril didn’t even twitch, Challe got bored and turned back to Anne.
“Most of what he says is nonsense, but he did have one decent idea just now.”
Anne had no clue what Challe was talking about and stared at him blankly.
“I mean when he said, ‘We just need to show them there are already fairies cooperating with you of their own free will.’ Tell them there’s a fairy who’s chosen to stay at a candy workshop among humans despite getting his wing back. And that he’s currently an apprentice working to become a full-fledged candy crafter.”
“Ah! Noah!” Anne exclaimed.
Finally, it clicked. Anne wondered why she hadn’t thought of it earlier.
Noah, who had gotten his wing back from Herbert fifteen years earlier, no longer had a master. Once he had decided to leave Hollyleaf Castle, he was free to go anywhere he liked. Despite that, he’d wanted to make sugar candy, so he had chosen to join the Paige Workshop. Now he was working alongside them as an apprentice.
If they told the fairies about Noah, it might change their minds.
“I think it’s a good idea.” Keith nodded.
Kat rose to his feet. “Guess I’d better contact that fool Elliott right away. I’ll have ’im send Noah here. If they see the real deal, maybe the fairies’ll believe us.”
“But I wonder if it will really change anything,” Anne said. “They might think we’re just forcing Noah to do it, too.”
Kat grimaced. “Everyone here knows this isn’t the best possible plan. But I can’t think of anything else that might work.”
Even Anne understood the solution Kat was referring to.
He means giving the fairies back their wings.
But since they couldn’t do that, they had no choice but to find another way.
“This is all we can do for now, so let’s try what we can,” said Keith.
“Mm.” Anne nodded. “You’re right…”
Though they knew the best course of action, they were trying to find another answer. It was uncomfortable, but this was the most they could do.
Kat wrote a letter to Elliott right then and there and sent it off first thing the next morning. The letter would reach Millsfield by noon the following day, and if Elliott was quick to respond, they could expect a reply the day after that.
Relieved they’d found something to try, Anne, Keith, and Kat prepared for the following day and quickly called it a night. Benjamin snuggled into bed with Kat, and Mithril joined Anne.