When Penny shuffled into the kitchen on Thursday morning, her mom was already at the stove flipping pancakes. The sound of Trent Beaufort, local news anchor, filled the room from the little television in the corner of the counter. Her father would be on to do the morning weather forecast at any minute.

Penny poured herself a cup of coffee before sliding onto a stool at the kitchen counter. The dull throb in her head pulsed low on her skull; she always got this headache when she didn't sleep. She'd locked the fairy prince out on the roof but that hadn't help her get back to sleep. Not even for a minute.

Then Mrs. Hale set in front of Penny a plate of pancakes so dark and lumpy, they resembled mud pies. "What are these supposed to be?" Penny asked.

"They're chocolate banana pancakes but I seem to have overcooked them," she said wearily, her eyes darting periodically towards the television screen.

Penny's stomach pitched. "What's going on?" She pushed the plate of acrid griddle cakes away. It wasn't like her mom to be down during the week of the Brambleberry Festival, but there was one thing that could. "Wait, did the weather change since Dad and I checked the barometers last night?"

Before Mrs. Hale could answer, Trent interrupted and her head snapped back towards the television.

"Next up," the anchor said with a toothy smile. "We have this weekend's weather with Harold Hale."

For as far back as anyone could remember, it had never rained in Sugar Falls, Ohio on the day of the final culmination of the Brambleberry Festival: the Honey Parade. Clouds as fluffy as cotton candy spun round white cones dropped the occasional spot of rain during the Brambleberry Carnival, but never on the Honey Parade. Everyone in Sugar Falls would be watching the news for the weekend forecast, so when the cameras cut to her father, Penny's stomach did a little flip. This was his most important broadcast of the year, and they all knew it.

Her father shuffled nervously on his feet. "Thanks Trent," he said, an audible quaver in his voice. "I'm sure many of us were kept up by last night's thunderstorm and are eager to see what this weekend's weather has in store for us. I hate to say it, but make sure to keep an umbrella handy today, more storms are expected this afternoon. Thunderstorms can be expected at one p.m. and three p.m. but the skies will be clear by six p.m. in time for the opening of the carnival. The high will be 90 degrees Fahrenheit, 33 Celsius, so make sure to avoid strenuous work in direct sunlight, stay hydrated, and find someplace cool to relax during peak hours."

Penny let out a slow breath. "That's not so bad."

But the broadcast wasn't over. Mrs. Hale shushed her as her husband continued with his predictions. "As for Friday, a cold front is coming through tonight so we can expect more storms and prolonged bouts of rain through the morning and afternoon, and into Saturday and Sunday."

Pancakes were turning to charcoal briquettes on the stove, but neither Penny nor Mrs. Hale moved to remove them until the smoke detector objected to their cooking. Penny grabbed a dish towel her Gammy had embroidered with a bee to wave it under the sensor in the hall.

    When she returned, she still hadn't fully wrapped her head around the consequences of her father's forecast. If it had been any other weatherperson, she would have kindled a flicker of hope that the weather would clear in time for the parade on Sunday, as would the rest of the town. But Harold Hale wasn't just any meteorologist; he'd lived in Sugar Falls all his life and he knew its weather patterns better than some people knew their next door neighbors. If Harold Hale called for rain at one p.m. you could bet your last slice of blueberry cobbler it would rain at one.

As she watched her mom chisel pancakes off the griddle with a spatula before dumping them into the compost bin, Penny tried not to think of the outrage her dad, and their whole family, was about to have rained down on them. There would be talk of cancelling the parade, of delays and alternate dates. Her father would get the blame despite his lack of control in the matter; the people of Sugar Falls had a knack for shooting the messenger when it came to bad news. They weren't quick to forgive either.

"You don't think..." she began hesitantly. "You don't think this will hurt my chances at winning the Honey Queen?"

    Mrs. Hale ceased her scraping and turned to Penny with a fire in her pale blue eyes. "It had better not. It was supposed to have been decided weeks ago. If the PTO disqualifies you over this, well, they're going to be looking at the business end of a very unpleasant phone call."

    Penny shook her head with a little laugh. "Sorry. I know it's just a silly little contest, but I really need that scholarship money."

Every year, the busy-body moms from the Sugar Falls High Parent Teacher Organization took applications from graduating senior girls for a spot in the Honey Court. The girl chosen as the Honey Queen won a scholarship, which was the first reason Penny had applied. Most girls did it for a spot in the parade and a chance to wear a crown all day. She would be the last to admit it, but Penny was also partial to tiaras.

    "Oh I know it all too well. We'd just better be extra careful around those jackals during the luncheon today," Mrs. Hale said brandishing the spatula like a weapon. "In fact, you're better run next door and tell Gammy what her son's just done. She'll want to gird her loins for when she heads to euchre club this afternoon; those bitties do nothing but complain about the weather."

    Penny complied and went to the kitchen door to pull on a pair of galoshes.

    "But hurry back," her mother added. "Aunt Tilly is coming over to do your hair for the luncheon."

    "Oh that." Penny didn't bother to hide her lack of enthusiasm. The Honey Queen wouldn't be announced until the Honey Parade, but the "court" was invited to a mandatory tea (hat and gloves required) at the PTO President's house. "I won't be long," she promised before pushing past the screen door; she let it slam behind her.

***

    Gammy sat at her kitchen table when Penny slipped through the door. "Did you see my dad's forecast," she said lieu of a greeting.

    "No. I don't need your father to tell me when it's going to rain. I can read the signs for myself," Gammy said as she spooned cloudy, raw honey into her tea. Her mass of snow white curls were clipped to the top of her head so they stuck out every way.

"Oh." Penny took a seat at the table. "Mom wanted me to warn you so you knew before you went to play euchre."

Gammy waved her off with the honey spoon. "I can handle those old crones," she said.

There was a fierce twinkle in her grandmother's eyes that made Penny wary. It was well known around town that Charlotte Hale was always up to something. "The weather is what it is. What I can't figure out is what has my bees in a tizzy."

Everything went fuzzy at the mention of bees. Penny tried to swallow away the dryness in her mouth as the hazy memories of last night's reunion flooded her like suddenly remembering a strange dream. An anxious hive was the first sign of trouble and Leander had told her as much when he'd sought her help.

"You have such a way with them," Gammy said. "They love it when you talk to them."

Penny's face flushed with heat. Her grandmother believed in the fairy magic Leander lived by more than most people would admit, but so did most of Sugar Falls. She followed all the old superstitions, including the belief that bees liked to hear what was going on in the lives of their keepers. After Leander had left, it was her grandmother who had suggested Penny try it for herself.

Having someone, or someones, to talk to after Leander had disappeared had turned out to be the best thing to help her cope with the loss of a friend.

Penny didn't need to be asked twice. Her every fiber longed to tell anyone who wouldn't think she was insane that she'd been paid a visit by her imaginary friend. She turned to head into the garden when a familiar figure at the door made her stop. Leander. The Prince of Bees stood in her grandmother's kitchen, leaning casually against the door frame. He wore the same white linen shirt and beige trousers as he had when he'd hopped through her window the night before.

"Charlotte's right. They do love it," he said.

"Leander!" Gammy said, scaring Penny out of her skin. "It's been so long since I've seen you around."

Penny's head snapped back and forth between them. "Wait," she exclaimed as she tried to wrap her head around the fact that her grandmother saw him too. "You can see him?"

Gammy watched her, confused. "Don't you remember? I could always see him."

Penny's eyes felt hot as anger bubbled in her chest. "So you weren't just 'playing along' like my parents said?" Maybe it was the exhaustion that played on her nerves, or the lack of coffee, but she could have screamed.

    Gammy sensed her distress and quickly stood to comfort her. "No. They did try to get me to discourage you from playing with him, but I wouldn't dare do His Majesty the disservice."

    So she knew everything. She knew all along. The betrayal oozed in Penny's gut and renewed a forgotten sadness that made her limbs ache. "What about my disservice?" she cried, her voice rising to a shout. "You let them take me to therapy — make me think I was crazy."

"Penny," Leander said gently.

"No," Penny said. "I can't do this today. I'm still mad at you for leaving so I'm getting out of here."

She went out the door before either of them could stop her. The dramatic exit seemed like a little much after a breath of summer air, but Penny didn't have enough energy left for guilt. She was about to hop the fence rail when a pair of hands on her waist pulled her back into her grandmother's side of the garden.

"Wait," Leander said, as Penny spun to face him. "I really need your help."

Penny pressed a hand to her head with the vague hope of wiping away the throbbing there. "The wards. I know, but can't it wait a week? The Brambleberry Festival is this weekend and I've got stuff every day."

"It can't wait. The whole town might be in danger if you don't help me fix the wards. There's going to be many outsiders coming into Sugar Falls and if something or someone... bad gets through...has already gotten through..." Leander watched her with a frown, his arms folded tight across his chest.

The strange behavior of the bees. The atypical weather. Penny's skin crawled; these were no coincidences. Not in Sugar Falls. "The storms. That couldn't be because your wards are weakened? Could it?"

Leander lifted one shoulder in a half-committal. "Maybe. Quite possibly," he said with a curious tilt of his head. "That or it just might be a symptom of something worse to come."

Penny didn't like that answer. She'd grown to like concrete things, scientific theory, measurable things, checklists and problems with easy solutions. Years had stolen away the memory of Leander and all the things she'd accepted as a child that would be so hard to quantify now. "How do you know?" Irritation formed her words to pointed barbs.

"Know what?" Leander asked. A little smile turned up his lips.

"Symptoms? You're not making sense." She waved her hands in frustration. "How do you know the wards are weak?"

Leander laughed. "Well you know when you're sick don't you — scratchy throat, sniffles and all?"
    "Yeah."

"My magic connects me to this place, so when it's hurting, I hurt too."

    That answer would do, but Penny had so many more questions that needed answers. "Why do you need my help?"

    "The wards have to be placed by a human, that's what gives them magic."

    "Can't Gammy help you? I kind of have a busy day," she replied with arms folded to match the fairy prince.

    "They are in the woods and fields around town. She can't hike all over the outskirts of Sugar Falls can she?" Leander said, though the idea seemed to amuse him.

    "No—" Penny admitted. "But I have a luncheon."

    "That sounds fancy."

    "If I miss it, I will be ineligible to win the Honey Queen scholarship."

    Leander tilted his head. "A scholarship?"

His brows furrowed creating a little wrinkle on the bridge of his nose. Penny couldn't deny it was a cute wrinkle. "To pay for tuition to college? Don't fairies go to school?"

    "We do, but we don't have to pay money for it. We just read books and then discuss them for hours," he said.

    Penny's heart raced at the idea. It was strange how much she'd forgotten of Leander's world when the past eight years had been filled with standardized tests, football games, part-time jobs at the Dairy Hut, and a whole lot of boy related drama. "That sounds pretty nice, actually," she said. For a minute she'd almost forgotten her anger. To talk with Leander again had been all she'd wanted for years until she'd learned to accept that he'd be imaginary.

    "I'd love to show you sometime—" Leander started to say when the sound of a window being opened made them both turn.

    "Penny, what are you—" her mother began but stopped herself short. "Who's your friend?"

    Penny looked to Leander in shock. "What? My mom believes in Fairies?" she asked, her voice low enough that her mother wouldn't overhear.

    "No, but now that I'm 18, my parents' protection spell has worn off. Anyone can see me... but I thought your mom was a blonde," he said hurriedly.

    Penny's heart almost stopped; he didn't know. "That's my step-mom," she hissed.

"Honey?" Mrs. Hale shouted from the kitchen window. "Everything okay?" she asked with an overly warm smile.

    "Yeah," Penny called back across the fence. "This is," she paused as she tried to determine how to introduce her imaginary friend to her step-mom. "... Leander... Grandma's new delivery boy."

    "It's nice to meet you, Leander." Recognition slid onto Mrs. Hale's face, like the sun slips into the sky on a summer morning. "That's a name you don't hear every day. Penny, didn't your dad tell me you used to have an imaginary friend with that name?"

    "Yeah, I did," she growled.

    "No relation," Leander said with a jovial smile that made Mrs. Hale laugh.

    "You're funny. We should have you over for dinner," Mrs. Hale said.

    "That sounds lovely," Leander replied. He gave Penny a wary glance as he seemed to understand there was something more she wasn't telling him.

    There was, but before he could ask what had happened to her mom and before any formal plans could be made to have him over for dinner, Penny hopped the fence and with a "nice to meet you" for her step-mom's benefit, she disappeared into the house.

    "He was cute," Mrs. Hale said. "Did you ask if he was going to the carnival tonight?" she asked as Penny headed upstairs to change for the luncheon.

    "Oh, so now it's fine for me to play with my imaginary friend?" she mumbled to herself.

    "What was that?" Mrs. Hale asked from the base of the stairs.

    Penny sighed. "Nothing."

Thank you for reading! This chapter is dedicated Squeaks7 for helping choose the cover direction for the novel and for being such an amazing friends, reader, and a bit of moral support! I'm so glad we met!