"But the Wishing Tree is dead," said one of the twins, causing Maggie, who was unwilling to look their way, to turn her head towards them in confusion.
"See? They won't help us," Maggie scowled, folding her arms to her chest. "Fairies are not kind creatures," she whispered, making sure to keep her voice low so that they wouldn't hear her.
"What do you mean it's dead?" I asked the fairies.
"Someone came here a few days ago and killed the Wishing Tree," explained the brother, quickly followed by the sister. "We had just crawled out of our holes yesterday, so we didn't know who or what had come and wreaked havoc here. But everyone is very angry."
To me, the news sounded no less than a tragedy, as it meant that I wouldn't be able to save Luke from the poison, and that all of my efforts to come here would be in vain. That couldn't be. That shouldn't be.
