Fortune's Magic Farm by Suzanne Selfors (i read book .TXT) 📗

But she owed the people of Runny Cove everything because she was the reason why the sun never shined. Nesbitt thought that Isabelle was just like her mother. Maybe she was. But by breaking the solemn promise she wouldn’t be helping a greedy businessman. She’d be helping her friends—her true friends.

“Tree,” she said. “May I have some of your cherries?”

The tree shuddered, then lowered a branch. Isabelle quickly plucked as many cherries as she could and stuffed them into her kelp suit’s pockets. But surely she needed more than what her pockets could hold? A basket sat beneath a nearby tree. She grabbed it and filled it as fast as she could.

“Thank you, tree.”

You’re welcome, Isabelle the Tender. I wish you success with your quest.

Clutching the basket, Isabelle started up the steep road toward the ridge. She looked back a few times to make certain that Sage wasn’t following. She searched the sky and didn’t see any sign of Rolo, either. Her legs were already worn out from the climb up the mountain to deliver the spool of thread, but she pressed on. As she walked, the light began to change. Morning was on the way, bringing with it the tendrils of orange and gold that had first greeted her arrival—when she had believed that her future was as bright and shiny as the sun itself.

Upon reaching the top of the ridge, she didn’t linger or gaze out at the valley. I don’t want to look, she thought. I want to forget.

She crouched and waited as Rocky climbed onto her shoulder. Then, hugging the basket to her chest, she entered the tunnel. Her eyes hadn’t forgotten how to see in dim light but she made her way carefully, catching her boots only a few times on jutting rock. When she came to the end of the tunnel she took a deep breath and held out her hand. One touch would part the Camouflage Creepers and reveal the tunnel’s exit. One touch from a tender.

As she hesitated, her palm floating a mere inch from the wall, her old song came to mind:

Beyond the town, beyond the mill

beyond the river, beyond the hill

lies the land of Nowhere

and Nowhere lies there still

for no one goes to Nowhere

and no one ever will.

Nowhere had turned out to be a place called Fortune’s Farm, a place protected from the outside world for a good reason. If Isabelle broke her solemn promise by taking the cherries, then the spell would be broken and outsiders would come to Nowhere. Rotten, evil outsiders like Mr. Supreme. He’d steal seeds and plant Cloud Clover everywhere. He’d turn the world into a landscape of rain and umbrella factories. In her desire to help the people of Runny Cove she’d make it possible for Mr. Supreme to hurt countless others. No matter how angry she felt, how betrayed or used, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t break the promise.

Though her outside had changed, inside she remained good and true.

Isabelle turned the basket upside down. The cherries fell to the ground, their quiet plunks echoing along the cave. She emptied her pockets. She’d have to find another way to help her friends. Somehow, she’d find another way.

She touched the rock wall. It trembled as vines appeared, twisting and fanning until enough space had opened for her to step through.

Clutching Rocky, Isabelle Fortune took a long sad breath and stepped out of Fortune’s Farm. The vines settled as the tunnel closed behind her. She shut her eyes and pressed her face into the marmot’s warm fur. Worry, doubt, and fear washed over her. What if she couldn’t find Neptune? What if she ran into one of Mr. Supreme’s gyrocopters? What if… ?

“Isabelle.”

Isabelle slowly raised her face, fearful of what she would find.

Her grandfather, Nesbitt Rhododendrol Fortune, stood in the clearing. Eve the cat brushed against his leg. He held his arms wide and laughed the deep hearty laugh of a man whose faith had just been restored.

“You’ve done it, Isabelle. You’ve passed the test!”

Isabelle thought that a Vice Vine had attacked her, but it turned out to be a hug.

Her grandfather smelled like dirt and grass and fireplace smoke. “Oh, sweet, sweet Isabelle,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Please forgive me for putting you through all this, but I had to be certain.”

Her face squashed against his cape. The marmot chirped nervously.

“My granddaughter. My beautiful granddaughter.” Nesbitt squeezed again, then released his arms.

Isabelle stumbled backwards, taking a deep breath. Was her grandfather crazy? He had yelled at her, had told her to go away. But no anger blazed across his face, no venomous words shot from his mouth. His green eyes twinkled, his wrinkled face crinkled joyfully. “You’re a true tender,” he said. “The truest of us all. Look at you. Look at your hair. That is the most magnificent hair I’ve ever seen.” Eve purred in agreement.

It wouldn’t have been possible for Isabelle to feel more confused than she felt at that moment. Of all the twists and turns her life had taken over the last few days, this was the most puzzling. She strained her neck to look up at Nesbitt’s face. Like a tree, he towered over her. “I don’t understand,” she said.

“I had to test your loyalty, Isabelle. Hold no grudge against your great-uncle or against Sage. They acted on my orders.”

Sage and Walnut stepped out from behind some bushes. Each wore a long, hooded cape. Walnut skipped forward, dancing the same jig he had danced on the bridge when Isabelle’s hair had turned green. “She did it, she did it. I knew she would, I knew she would.” His wispy hair floated as he twirled around.

“What did I do?” She searched through the kelp suit’s pockets, worried that she might have missed a cherry. “I didn’t take anything. I promise.”

“Exactly,” Nesbitt said. He bent down on one knee, bringing his face level with hers. “You had all sorts of reasons to