Copyright J.B. Norman
With the Family Darkstone gathered for the annual Spring Festival, Kat has taken Annie and Dunstana for a walk through the Municipal Gardens of Porthaven while her mother and aunt work on the celebratory Spring Goose and her father and uncle work on a celebratory bottle of Makelandic whisky.
“Yup,” Dunstana says with a decisive nod as she surveys the Gardens.
The days are getting longer. Sleeves and pant cuffs are getting shorter. The last of the snows have finally melted away. The flowers are blooming. The trees are budding. The geese are flying back north — except for the Aurorean Contrarian Geese, which are flying back south…
“Spring has finally sproing,” she declares.
Annie opens her mouth to protest.
“I know,” Kat says, putting a reassuring hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “I heard it, too. Let it go, Annie.”
“Look at all the flowers!” Dunstana says.
The city of Porthaven doesn’t have a lot of open space for gardens and parks, but what public spaces there are have been meticulously laid out, planted with the most beautiful flowers and trees from all over Realmgard, and placed under the brilliant but eccentric Florinda Grimsby, previously the Magicological Academy’s Dean of Herbology & Pharmacology and one of the continent’s foremost experts in both the aesthetic and recreational properties of plants.
“Slow down, Dunstana!” Kat says. “You’re bothering everyone else who wants to look at the flowers.”
Yeah. Kat doesn’t really get it, either. She’s much rather be eating a goose.
“It’s a holiday for everyone, Captain Kid. Don’t ruin it for everyone else!”
Shockingly, Dunstana finds enough interest in the flowers to actually slow down a little and study the flowers.
“I like the roses,” Dunstana says, pointing to a bush.
“Those are carnations, ’Stana notes.
“And the, um,” Dunstana stammers, desperately gesticulating towards another plant. “Ugh. I can never remember those!”
“Forget-me-nots.”
“Yeah,” Dunstana agrees. “Those. Oh, and the chrysanthe-whatevers.”
“Chrysanthemums, ’Stana. But those are orchids.”
“Oh,” Dunstana says eagerly. “Do you think they have any of those mouthy-looking ones thateat things?”
Dunstana dashes forward in search of some mouth-looking plants.
“Look at that one!” she cries, immediately finding herself distracted. “That bush is a penguin!”
“So,” Kat says to Annie as Dunstana studies the garden’s topiary. “I’m thinking we go get fish-on-a-sticks after we’re done here.”
Suddenly, Kat hears her sisters’ voice.
“Kat! Help!”
It takes a minute for Kat to realise that Dunstana’s voice sounds oddly muffled.
Kat groans. As she starts to turn Dunstana’s voice, she just knows she’s not going to like what she sees. Sure enough, when she glances over to where Dunstana has somehow managed to get her whole head trapped in one of the very mouth-looking plants she was do desperate to find earlier.
“What do I do now?” Dunstana asks. “Wait. No. I got it.”
She reaches down, draws her wooden sword and starts whacking the plant.
“Should we help, Kat?” Annie asks.
Kat shrugs. “She can handle it.” She looks down at Annie. “So, fish-on-a-sticks?”
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