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The wind and the waves echoed her heart- constant and pure. The storm was her soul- wild and untamed... And when the tempest raged around her, she faced it until the rainbow appeared and a new beginning was born. ~ A. Bergloff The tempest and the rainbow are forever linked in nature and in our imagination. They are the balance to one another. The unpredictability of storms and life gives way to the beauty of the rainbow and dreams, and it is through stories that we understand this and are inspired. This month, The Fairy Tale Magazine is presenting ten imaginative tales in the second issue in our series of "weather-works" for 2022 that explore some element of weather - from rain to wind to snow and beyond. So, please enjoy, and as always dear readers... Stay enchanted! - Kate, Amanda, and Kelly "Remember, your wits are your true magic.." Bag of Onions Jennifer A. McGowan There is no wind spell for wishes to float free... Wind Spell Kristen Baum DeBeasi The Weather Witch obliges... A Change of Weather Deborah Sage The braised rage of the sun pierces a cloud in two places... Zeus Returns, Briefly Eric Pinder No one's ever really gone..." A Dance in the Rain Sarah Garcia Cloudy dreams forming May soon come true... Beware the Sly Mimics of Spring Maria DePaul My power comes in with the rain and the lightning... Like Thunder in My Head Gerri Leen What use are slippers against tempests... Tsunami Came in Sparkling Midnight Dyani Sabin MUSIC Sharing an enchanting and atmospheric rain-inspired favorite to accompany this issue ALL COPYRIGHT to the written works in this issue belong to the individual authors. The Fairy Tale Magazine Editor-in-Chief ~ Kate Wolford Art Director ~ Amanda Bergloff Special Projects Writer ~ Kelly Jarvis Cover Illustration ~ John William Waterhouse Graphics ~ Amanda Bergloff

Lilly Inkwood’s new novel, The Kingdom is a Golden Cage, is the first book in a fantasy series about the Red, Blue, and Green Kingdoms which are filled with magic, deceit, and intrigue. Heavily influenced by European folk tales and armed with a large cast of characters, the novel can feel confusing at times, and I was thankful that Inkwood chose to begin her book with a map of the Kingdoms and a description of the major players in the plot. I found myself turning back to the descriptions to help me keep track of the Game of Thrones style back-stabbing that took place throughout the story. The novel unfolds from the alternating perspectives of Celine, a young princess who is betrothed to a man she has not chosen, and Magali, a dowager who describes herself a “wife of, daughter of, mother of dukes, but never a duchess.” Through these female perspectives, Inkwell explores how the history of inheritance law in her fantasy kingdom has excluded women, leaving them to live in golden cages with little control over their own lives. The series sets out to change this, and in her final author’s note, Inkwell promises readers a Queen to come in her sequels. In addition to historical influences, Inkwell draws inspiration from fairy tales, most notably “Puss In Boots”. Celine, a water-twirler who has recently lost the power to command rivers and oceans, is in love with a man named Hugo, who has been transformed into a cat. She is desperate to break the spell which binds him. Magic abounds in the novel which features light-cantors (who bring forth light from the depths of the sea), fire-blazers, and shapeshifters. There is also a Fallen Court, which is a secret society that wields influence over the three kingdoms. Everyone competes for power and autonomy, and the ending of the novel, which sets up the rest of the series, offers more questions than answers. This is a fun book for readers who like plots with secrets, twists, and turns, and for those who are willing to invest in a new fantasy series. You can find the book here. Thank you to NetGalley for a free copy of the book in exchange for a fair review. Kelly Jarvis is the Special Projects Writer and Contributing Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine. Her work has appeared in Eternal Haunted Summer, Blue Heron Review, Forget-Me-Not Press, Mermaids Monthly, The Chamber Magazine, and Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers. She teaches at Central Connecticut State University.

Stephanie Parent, the poet behind Every Poem a Potion, Every Song a Spell, has created a fascinating narrative that blends mystery, ghost legends, folk lore, fairy tale, poetry, and sexuality in her new novel The Briars. The book follows the experiences of Claire and her friends who are submissives and dominatrixes in a BDSM club called Briars and Roses. The club, which looks like an ordinary house covered in briars and roses from the outside, is full of secrets, and for years the dungeon in the attic of the club has been haunted by a benevolent ghost. When a new submissive named Mara begins working and an old client named Jack returns to the club after a twenty-year absence, the gentle haunting turns sinister. This book is for adults and is filled with graphic depictions of BDSM and some scenes that feature sexual assault, but the book is much more than just a steamy read. Parent artfully reveals the backgrounds of her characters, illustrating how their tumultuous pasts have informed their situation. She intelligently explores the impact of slurs directed toward women and their bodies. She gives her readers a touching queer love story alongside a riveting, ghostly mystery. Parent likens submissive and dominant sexuality to art itself, showing how the giving and taking of pain are related to ballet dancing and poetry, and she uses fairy tale, folk lore, and literature to spin memorable images that complement her fast-paced plot. Although contemporary sexuality has often been directed and dominated by the desires of men, Stephanie Parent offers readers a novel that celebrates female relationships and the bonds formed between women who are find themselves in difficult circumstances. Haunting, romantic, and superbly crafted, this story will stay with readers long after they have finished the final page. You can find the book here. Thank you to NetGalley for a free copy of the book in exchange for a fair review. Kelly Jarvis is the Special Projects Writer and Contributing Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine. Her work has appeared in Eternal Haunted Summer, Blue Heron Review, Forget-Me-Not Press, Mermaids Monthly, The Chamber Magazine, and Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers. She teaches at Central Connecticut State University.

Editor’s note: FTM loves anything Persephone-related. The story of mother-daughter separation and reunion, the involvement of the seasons, the devoted love a mother has for her daughter have always touched us, and Gail has beautifully explored the heart of loss and renewal for Persephone herself. Enjoy! Earth thaws to mud, and now these trees’ dull twigs bloom carelessly their differences, hues spring like secrets rumored into being, coaxed to cover life in glory, hide the shame. The sky absorbs it all, scatters the rays through hopes nuanced with memories of fall so seamless yet inconstant, lets light mix in patina of ever-present air. But I walk more coldly, tuck my dreams back (I carry them, sure they can’t carry me) too bright for marking by these moods of light. Regally I’m stained with my past, my roles. I’ve such a power of formality that I must wield and yield to, so tell, Sun who begs the honor of my presence, what use have I for joy, for endless dance? And yet the breeze keeps playing with my cloak, flitting, but not to death, not petrified— one can move and yet not vanish—can change— for all my frowns, I feel suddenly free. Gail Kathleen Jardine practices mathematics and music by water and woods. Her poetry has appeared in Songs of Eretz, Octavos, and Sylvia Magazine. “With Blossoms Bare Bedecked Daintily,” by Constance Phillott, altered into black and white.

So you likely know that vampires haven’t always been sparkly in the sun. But did you know when their vulnerability to daylight first appeared? Or which pre-existing vampire traits Bram Stoker gave to his Count Dracula and which he invented? The Real History of Dracula, written and presented by folklorists Dr. Sara Cleto and Dr. Brittany Warman, is an in depth look at all things vampire: their folkloric origins and historical inspiration, Dracula and his literary predecessors, the symbolism of the vampire throughout history, its astonishing influence on today’s popular culture, and so much more. The Real History of Dracula, a ten-part lecture series from the Great Courses, is a comprehensive and fascinating study on everything you ever wanted to know about our bloodsucking friends but were afraid to ask, or, for me in many cases, wouldn’t have even thought to ask. Cleto and Warman take on topics like why vampires tap into our anxieties about sex, illness, and death, how they symbolize the threat of reverse colonialism, which fairy tales have vampiric overtones, and ask the question what makes vampires so damned (pun intended) compelling? If you have ever taken a course at Cleto and Warman’s Carterhaugh School of Folklore and the Fantastic, rest assured the Carterhaugh founders sink their teeth into this subject with the sharp intelligence, playful humor, academic integrity, and genuine love for their subject their students expect. If Carterhaugh is new to you, The Real History of Dracula is a perfect taste of Cleto and Warman’s work. This lecture series is available to either view on Wondrium or listen to on Audible. Whip-smart and highly accessible, The Real History of Dracula is truly a feast for the vampire fan. Lissa Sloan is the author of Glass and Feathers, a novel that tells the story of Cinderella after the “happily ever after.” The Enchanted Press will publish it next February.

Hello Enchanted Friends: As usual, the competition at the very top of the submissions pile was cutthroat. With all the money in the world, at least 10 more names would be listed here. Also, as usual, we received hundreds and hundreds of submissions, but many would-be published authors had clearly never visited this site or read the magazine. Tip to every writer: Always know the publication you are submitting to well, as that truly is one of the make or break aspects of publication. Despite what I’ve written above, we did have a bumper crop of excellent submissions for the September and December issues. Please note that I have not designated which issue the chosen author’s work will be in, but all will be in either the September or December issue. I’m proud to list the following as the chosen authors: Salinda Tyson Sara Cleto Hannah Greer Paul Stansbury Jayne Cohen Darren Lipman Alyson Rhodes Thomas Koron Jenny Thompson Zoë Mertz Robert Nimmo Julie Shiel Harley Capone Rosanne E. Lortz Sofia Ezdina Sarah Cannavo Leila Murton Poole Georgia Cook Jo de Groot A.J. Cunder They join Kelly Jarvis, Madeline Mertz, Laren Stover, Dr. Sara Cleto and Dr. Brittany Warman and Marcia Sherman as writers for the final two issues. If you are on this list and haven’t responded to my emails, please do ASAP! NOTE: We will be announcing the winners of the FLASH FICTION & POETRY CONTEST in a post on JULY 30th, so check back then. Yours in Enchantment, Kate And check out our SHOP PAGE with our all new DIGITAL DOWNLOADS HERE

Editor's Note: Love in its many forms can uplift or curse those that find themselves under its spell. It is a theme that resonates in fairy tales set in the past and the present. We hope you enjoy this unique tale as much as we did. Also, author Melissa Yuan-Innes recently was the featured guest speaker for the July Fairy Godparents Zoom meeting where she discussed her inspiration for this story, as well as her other fairy tale writing inspirations. For more information on joining FTM's Fairy Godparents Club for future meetings and other perks, check it out HERE. His mother never permitted his father to sleep. She would prod him awake with her elbow or kick him in the backs of the knees. In fairness, Da never wanted to sleep. He rigged up his own devices to keep his eyes open, including a bed of nails. He shivered under a thin blanket when the snow lay three feet thick outside. He tried not to lie down because if he did, he said, he would never wake up. "Why?” the boy asked. Neither mother nor father answered. All their energy seemed devoted to this strange task of keeping Da from sleeping. Ma made a meager living taking in laundry and doing embroidery. Da worked in the fields when he could, but he took a chill more often than not. His hacking cough kept all of them awake for weeks. Until one day Da fell asleep under thin blanket. "Da?” Michael said when he came through the door. He forgot the dirt crusted under his nails and the straw in his hair from weeks of harvesting. He saw only his father curled up by the dying embers of the fire. And his mother curled over his Da, weeping silently and saying, "I killed him." Michael ignored her. He shook Da's shoulder. Da rolled toward him, but his eyes had finally closed. Da's chest lay still, his lips slightly parted. "Da?” Michael repeated, in a higher voice. He wanted to tell his father about the harvest, that he had made enough money for wood and a bit of meat this winter. Tears dripped from Ma's face on to Da's blanket. "I killed him. I cursed him," she said. Michael finally held his mother while she blurted out some story about how she had been a nymph, had given up her immortality when she married his father and bore Michael. But when she caught Da cheating on her, she cursed him. "You promised me you would love me with every waking breath. So be it. When you fall asleep, you will die." Michael patted her shoulder. Poor Ma Ondine. Raving. In his head, he calculated how much a funeral would cost out of his new earnings. They would only have to feed two mouths this winter, but they could no longer count on Da's small income, either. He would have to take care of the family now. Generations passed. Ondines loved and cursed their mates. Michaels grew old before their time, caring for both of them. The cycle repeated without breaking. Always the Ondines. Always the tragic loves. And always the Michaels. If they survived their parents, they swore to work and never love anyone except themselves. The 21st century Michael loved women. He loved the way they ducked their heads and looked sideways up at him through their hair. He loved the way they walked, undulating in front of him. He loved the way they smelled. And there it ended. His parents had paid too high a price. He would not make the same mistake. Little did he know that his parents continued watch over him in every incarnation. And with each generation, the power of their combined love and protection grew stronger. They were his guardians. You might call them his seraphim. If only their power could overcome the curse. * * * "Abarka. Thank you.” Nina Chowdary flashed the final slide of her presentation, showing herself and the rest of the medical team surrounded by Gambian doctors and nurses and children. Dr. Nina's brown skin contrasted with both the ebony villagers' faces and the rest of the pale Canadian complexions. "From all the children in Gambia who can now smile, Abarka.” Nina massacred the Gambian words, but language wasn't her forte. Surgery was her strength. Microsurgery, to be precise. She'd been the only resident invited on the medical mission and she'd taken up her precious vacation and study time to go. While everyone applauded, a waiter handed her a glass and she downed it, realizing too late that it was champagne instead of water. She choked on the bubbles. Her microphone picked up the noise, and everyone laughed. She cleared her throat and croaked, "I'm not worried because if I have any airway trouble, about 90 percent of the people in the room know how to resuscitate me." The crowd laughed some more. "Sorry," said the waiter. She took a closer look at him. Blond guy, young, carefully spiked bangs. Deep blue eyes. A good body hidden under his uniform. But not a good waiter, although the champagne flute would've given the alcohol away if she'd been paying attention. "Don't worry about it--” She glanced at his lapel pin--"Michael." And that was that, except when she snuck a cigarette at the back door at the end of the night, she spotted the waiter tossing out a garbage bag. When he turned, he called, "Hey. You're a doctor. Don't you know those things are bad for you?" "Terrible," she called back, waving the cigarette at him. "Don't turn me in." "Hey, I'll just make you choke on some champagne again." She took a last drag and stubbed the cigarette out. "Good. That's one way to make people laugh and donate more money." "Glad to be of service." Their eyes met across the night air. * * * What surprised Nina the most was not that he turned out to be nine years younger than her, a barely-legal 21, or the fact that he'd actually read Emmanual Kant, which was more than she could say. It was the way he always closed his eyes in bed, squeezing his eyelids shut as if to block out everything except the sensation roaring inside his body. "Open your eyes," she coaxed him the third time, the tenth time, the twentieth time, until she finally gave up and figured there were worse things, like premature ejaculation. At least this way she could make whatever faces she wanted and he'd never know. * * * Until he left her ten months later. "No offence," he said. "I just don't do this.” He gestured around her sky blue bedroom, ending at her window, left ajar to permit the May breeze inside. "You don't do windows?" she said, even though her heart cracked in her chest. "I don't do love. Sorry.” He closed the bedroom door softly behind himself. Two weeks later, she heard he'd taken up with a high school student who catered with him. Young. Not too bright. But with big tits and a tinkly laugh, someone who might not do love, either. Or, if she did, he'd saw the heart right out of her chest. Well. Nina was a surgeon. She knew how to put things back together. She hoped. For weeks, she wrestled with strange dreams. A man who commanded her not to give up, that she and Michael were so close to “the beginning.” A dark-haired beauty who warned Nina that she was in danger of sealing over her own heart. “Forgive, start anew. Love.” Both the man and woman looked so majestic and yet hauntingly familiar in the shape of their eyes, the lift of their chins, or the twist of their lips. Sometimes, in Nina’s dreams, she heard a rush of wings. * * * Twenty years on, a blond man in a tuxedo offered Nina a flute of champagne at a fundraising dinner. She held up her glass of water, barely glancing at him. "I've got a drink, thank you." "Plus ca change," he said, and gave a crooked smile that tugged at her memory. "Michael?” she said, sloshing her water in its glass. She examined his broadened cheekbones, the looser jaw, the threads of white mixed at the temples, and his filled-in build. He still looked hot, damn it. But then, he'd only be about 42. Prime time for men. Unfortunately. He bowed his head. "Dr. Chowdary." She held out her hand as if he were an old acquaintance. Which he was. He shook it, holding on a little too long. His palm felt cool. "You look great." She shrugged and pulled her hand away. "I do all right.” Plenty of her colleagues had opted for Botox, filler, or a face lift or two, but Nina had resisted everything except laser therapy so far. "How are your wife and kidlets?" "I don't have any.” He swallowed the champagne she'd refused and dropped the flute on the tray of a passing server. "Are you wondering why I'm attending the reception instead of catering it?" She sipped her water. It seemed to hang in her throat before she swallowed it. Somehow, she was always choking around this man. "You were a lousy waiter." He laughed. "Yeah, you're right. Okay, I'll tell you why. I wanted to see you and make a donation to your foundation." "Thanks. You'll get a tax receipt.” She signaled the organizers that she was coming. He paused. "I guess I deserve that. Can I call you?" She adjusted the strap on her scarlet gown. "Sure. The foundation knows how to reach me.” And then she crossed to the podium with a practiced smile stretching across her face. He wasn't the only one who had learned to live without loving. But when she slipped out the back door and saw him leaning against a maple tree, silhouetted in the moonlight, she stared at him. He raised his head. "Sneaking a cigarette?" "No, actually. I gave it up ages ago." "Good for you.” He patted his front pocket with a rueful smile. "I was going to offer you a light." Just like that, she crossed to his side. Because although she had learned not to love, she also knew how to heal. And she was willing to try one more time. Because everyone knows that once in a great while, a curse, instead of a true heart, may be broken. Ondine and her lover spread their wings around Michael and Nina—wings too far and to ephemeral to be felt by mere human flesh. And yet, in that precise moment, all four of them smiled. Melissa Yuan-Innes is a doctor who loves fairy tales. As Melissa Yi, she writes werewolf thrillers (Wolf Ice), teenagers who save the world by talking to animals (High School Hit List), and the critically-acclaimed Hope Sze medical mysteries. Cover Design: Amanda Bergloff @AMANDABERGLOFF And check out our SHOP PAGE with our all new DIGITAL DOWNLOADS HERE

I was excited to read this novel which promised a twist of fairy tales centered around the Prince Charming character, but while the book does deliver on its promise, it is more of a light-hearted romp through the world of fairy tale than a serious contemplation of character or story. The book begins with “Once Upon a Time” and introduces readers to Jean-Marc Charming Arundel and his valet Roland as they are fighting ogres and battling briars to reach a sleeping beauty named Lady Bella. Prince Charming, however, is not what you expect, and he leaves the beautiful maiden unmarried when he steals her family’s treasures. When the abandoned Lady Bella shares her romantic heartbreak with Princess Marie Blanche de Neige (a woman persecuted by her stepmother’s poisoned apple) and Dr. Emelia Rapunzel (an orphaned girl raised in isolation by a practitioner of the arcane arts), the three women realize they have all been duped by the same “charming prince” and they set out to take their revenge. I thought this plot-based book was simple and somewhat flat, but it is filled with fairy tale settings and references that may delight readers looking for an escape from more nuanced novels. There are dragons and taverns, duels and weddings, hazel trees and fairy circles, and a cast of recognizable fairy tale characters. The book concludes that knowing true names leads to power and it subverts the traditional “happily ever after” with a humorous feminist revenge fantasy. Although I hoped for more depth in the story, it is a fun read that those new to the fairy tale retelling genre may enjoy. The writing did not exactly “charm” me or deepen my contemplation of fairy tale narratives, and I hoped the novel would offer much more when I saw the beautiful cover and evocative title, but reading the book was a fun way to spend a couple of hours. A great choice for young adult readers or those looking for humorous escapist fiction. You can order the book here. Thank you to NetGalley for a free copy of the book in exchange for a fair review. Kelly Jarvis is the Special Projects Writer and Contributing Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine. Her work has appeared in Eternal Haunted Summer, Blue Heron Review, Forget-Me-Not Press, Mermaids Monthly, The Chamber Magazine, and Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers. She teaches at Central Connecticut State University. And check out our SHOP PAGE with our all new DIGITAL DOWNLOADS HERE

Story and illustration from The Blue Rose Fairy Book by Maurice Baring, 1911 Once upon a time in a certain kingdom there lived a King and a Queen. They had three sons, who were all young, unmarried, and so brave that no fairy tale could tell, no pen could write down, how brave they were. The youngest was called Ivan-the-King's-Son. The King spoke to his children thus: "My dear children, take each of you an arrow, draw your bow at a venture, and shoot in various directions. And there, where the arrow shall fall, go take a wife." The eldest brother drew his bow at a venture, and the arrow fell on a nobleman's house, right opposite the women's attic. The second arrow fell in the yard of a merchant's house, on a flight of steps; and on the steps stood a beautiful girl, the merchant's daughter. The youngest brother drew his bow at a venture, and the arrow fell into a dirty marsh, and a frog caught it. Ivan-the-King's-Son said: "How can I marry a frog? She is not my size." "Marry her," said the King. "It means that such is your fate." So the sons of the King were married. The eldest married the nobleman's daughter; the second one, the merchant's daughter; and Ivan-the-King's-Son married a frog. And the King called them to him and gave the following command:— "Each of your wives must bake me a soft white loaf of bread for breakfast to-morrow." Ivan-the-King's-Son went to his room with a heavy heart and hung his head. "Ivan-the-King's-Son, why are you so sad?" the frog asked. "Has your father spoken an angry or an unkind word to you?" "How can I not be sad? The King, my father, has ordered you to get ready a loaf of soft white bread for his breakfast to-morrow." "Do not worry, Ivan-the-King's-Son, go to bed and sleep. In the morning you will be wiser than in the evening." She sent him to bed, and no sooner had she done so than she threw off her frog's skin and turned into a most beautiful girl, for she was none other than the Wise Princess. She went out on to the steps and called out in a loud voice: "Oh you, my nurses, get ready, get ready! Provide yourselves with what is necessary, and make me a white loaf such as I used to eat in my father's house." In the morning, when Ivan-the-King's-Son got up, the frog's loaf had been ready for some time, and it was so excellent that the like of it had never been seen. The loaf of bread was ornamented with various devices: on the sides of it were kings' palaces, and stately towers with their gardens and their walls. The King thanked Ivan-the-King's-Son for the loaf, and at the same time he gave the following order to his three sons:— "Your wives shall each of them weave me a carpet by to-night." Ivan-the-King's-Son came home with a heavy heart and hung his head. "Croak, croak," said the frog, "why are you so sad? Has your father spoken a cruel or an unkind word to you?" "How can I not be sad?" answered Ivan-the-King's-Son. "The King, my father, has ordered a silken carpet to be woven for him by to-night." "Do not worry, Ivan-the-King's-Son, lie down and sleep. In the morning you will be wiser." She put him to bed, and threw off her frog's skin, and turned into a beautiful maiden. She went out on to the steps and called out in a loud voice: "Oh, you boisterous winds, bring hither that same carpet on which I used to sit in the house of my father." No sooner said than done. In the morning, when Ivan-the-King's-Son awoke, the carpet had been ready for some time, and it was so beautiful that the like of it had never been seen before. It was adorned with gold, silver, and cunning devices. The King thanked his son for the carpet, and at the same time he issued a new command, namely, that his sons were to be present, each with his wife, at the grand review. Ivan-the-King's-Son returned home with a heavy heart and hung his head. "Croak, croak, Ivan-the-King's-Son," said the frog, "why are you so sad? Have you heard from your father anything cruel or unpleasant?" "How can I not be sad? The King, my father, has ordered that I should be present at the review with you. And how can I show you to the people?" "Do not worry, Ivan-the-King's-Son! Go by yourself, and pay your respects to the King. I will follow; and as soon as you hear a noise like thunder, say, 'My little frog is coming hither in a basket." The two elder brothers appeared at the review with their wives, all in beautiful clothes; they stood there and laughed at Ivan-the-King's-Son, and said: "Why have you come here, brother, without your wife? You might have brought her in your pocket. And where did you find such a beautiful lady?" Suddenly a loud noise like thunder was heard, and the whole palace shook. The guests were frightened to death, and jumped up from their places and did not know what to do. But Ivan-the-King's-Son said: "Do not be afraid, gentlemen, this is my little frog who has come here in a basket." A golden coach drove up to the palace, drawn by six horses, and out of it came the Wise Princess, so beautiful that it is impossible to describe her. She took Ivan-the-King's-Son by the hand, and led him to the oaken chairs and the spread tables. The guests began to eat and drink, and to make merry. The Wise Princess, as she drank from a glass, let a drop fall on to her left sleeve; and as she ate a piece of roast swan, she hid one of the bones in her right sleeve. The wives of the elder sons noticed this, and did the same. Afterwards, when the Wise Princess was dancing with Ivan-the-King's-Son, she shook her left sleeve, and at once a lake appeared. She shook her right sleeve, and white swans swam about on the lake. The King and his guests were astonished, and when the elder sons' wives began to dance they shook their left sleeves, but the only result of it was to splash the guests. Then they shook their right sleeves, and in so doing a swan's bone hit the King in the face. The King was angry, and drove them away in disgrace. During that time Ivan-the-King's-Son took the opportunity of going home. He found the frog's skin, and threw it into a big fire. The Wise Princess arrived and asked where her frog's skin was. Then not finding it, she grew sad and said: "Oh, Ivan-the-King's-Son, Ivan-the-King's-Son, what have you done? If you had waited a moment I would have been yours for ever. But now good-bye. Seek me at the end of the world, in the Kingdom of Nowhere. Wear out three pairs of iron boots." So saying, she turned herself into a white swan, and flew away out of the window. Ivan-the-King's-Son wept bitterly, and prayed to God with all his might. He put on iron boots, and walked on straight in front of him. He walked and walked, and after a time he met an old man. "Good morrow, young man," said the old man; "what are you looking for and where are you going to?" Ivan-the-King's-Son told him all his misfortunes. "Ah, Ivan-the-King's-Son, why did you burn the frog's skin? You did not put it on, and it was not for you to take it off. The Wise Princess was so far more cunning and wise than her father, that he clothed her in a frog's skin and bade her be a frog for three years. Here is a ball for you. Wherever it rolls, you must boldly follow." Ivan-the-King's-Son thanked the old man, and followed where the ball rolled. Whether it rolled far or near, for a short time or a long time, the story does not say; but it stopped at a cottage. This cottage stood on chicken's legs and wobbled about. Ivan-the-King's-Son said, "Cottage, cottage, stand as you used to stand—still, as your mother placed you, back to the wood and front to me." The cottage turned round, with its back to the wood and its front to him. Ivan-the-King's-Son went into the cottage, and there lay an old woman, all bony, with a nose which grew to the ceiling. She said to him in an angry voice: "Fie, fie, fie! Why have you come here, Ivan-the-King's-Son?" "Oh, you old woman," he answered, "before asking me questions you should give me something to eat and to drink, and you should prepare me a hot steam bath; and then you can ask me questions." The old woman gave him food and drink, and a steam bath, and then the King's son told her he was looking for his wife, the Wise Princess. "My child," said the old woman, "it is a pity you did not come before. In the first years, after her flight, she remembered you, but now she has ceased thinking of you. Go at once to my second sister; she knows more than I do." Ivan-the-King's-Son set out on his journey, and followed the ball. He walked and walked, and again there stood before him a cottage with chickens' legs. "Cottage, cottage, stand still, as your mother placed you, with your back to the wood and your front to me." The cottage turned round. Ivan-the-King's-Son went into it, and there stood an old woman with bony legs. She saw the Prince and she said: "Fie, fie! Ivan-the-King's Son, have you come here of your own accord or because you were obliged to?" Ivan-the-King's-Son answered: "I have come here of my own accord, and also because I can't help it. I am looking for the Wise Princess." "I am sorry for you, Ivan-the-King's-Son. You should have come before. The Wise Princess has quite forgotten you. She wants to marry another husband. At this moment she is living with my eldest sister. Go thither quickly, but remember one thing, that as soon as you have entered the cottage, the Wise Princess will turn into a spindle and my sister will begin to spin golden threads, and to turn her wheel. Mind that you lose no time in taking away the spindle from her and breaking it in two; throw half of it behind you and the other half in front of you. Then the Wise Princess will appear." Ivan-the-King's-Son set out on his journey. He walked and walked, but whether the way was long, or whether it was short, whether it was near or far, the story doesn't say. He wore out three pairs of iron boots, and at last he reached a cottage with chickens' legs. "Cottage, cottage, stand still, as your mother placed you, with your front to me, and your back to the wood." The cottage turned round, the King's Son went into it, and there an old woman all bony was sitting and spinning gold. She took her spindle, shut it up in a cupboard, and locked the door with a key. But Ivan-the-King's-Son managed to snatch the key and to open the cupboard. He took the spindle and broke it in two pieces; he threw one piece behind him and one piece in front of him. At the same moment the Wise Princess appeared before him. "Ah, Ivan-the-King's-Son, what a long time you have been coming! I had nearly married some one else." Then she took him by the hand, and they sat down on a magic carpet, and flew back to Ivan-the-King's-Son's house. On the fourth day the carpet stopped at the royal palace. The King met his son with great joy and gave a large feast. When it was over, he appointed Ivan-the-King's-Son to be his heir. And check out our SHOP PAGE with our all new DIGITAL DOWNLOADS HERE

In House of Roots and Ruin, Erin A. Craig returns readers to the lives of the Thaumas sisters from House of Salt and Sorrow. Verity, the youngest of the twelve sisters who is turning eighteen when the new book opens, narrates the story. Six of the twelve Thaumas sisters died in House of Salt and Sorrow, a mysterious retelling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses, and Verity now resides with her oldest sister Camille, the Duchess of Highmore. Verity’s talent for painting earns her a commission to create a portrait for the 20-year-old son of another aristocratic family living on the mainland in Bloem, and when Camille, who is worried about Verity’s ability to see and talk to ghosts, forbids her leaving, Verity runs away, eager to prove herself to her family while learning more about the world. Fans of House of Salt and Sorrow will be delighted with Craig’s new book which is filled with romance, mystery, and Gothic details. Although the new book is a stand-alone novel, it revisits the Thaumas sisters who have scattered across the islands and mainland to begin their adult lives. Verity’s narrative voice pulled me back into Craig’s beautifully rendered world, and, because Verity was seeing the mainland for the first time, her descriptions filled me with a sense of wonder. Craig’s writing is full of sumptuous detail. The windswept shores of the islands which feature in Craig’s first book are replaced by the heady gardens and overflowing greenhouses of Bloem. I loved reading about the beautiful fashion, architecture, and customs of the “People of the Petals”, and I enjoyed the fairy tale references to dark secrets, hidden passageways, and forbidden chambers inspired by The Twelve Dancing Princesses and Bluebeard. As Verity begins a romantic relationship and becomes increasingly isolated from her family, she encounters life-threatening scenarios that keep readers on the edge of their seats. Craig’s books do feature shocking plot twists which appeal to her young adult audience, and while I would have preferred more restraint in the conclusion, I was so riveted by the Gothic details, mysterious characters, and haunting settings that I couldn’t put the book down. Craig’s writing transports me to new worlds, and I hope she follows House of Roots and Ruin with a new fairy tale inspired story of another surviving Thaumas sister. Fans of Gothic fiction, mystery, and romance will love this book! You can learn more about ordering it here. Thank you to NetGalley for a free copy of the book in exchange for a fair review. Kelly Jarvis is the Special Projects Writer and Contributing Editor for The Fairy Tale Magazine. Her work has appeared in Eternal Haunted Summer, Blue Heron Review, Forget-Me-Not Press, Mermaids Monthly, The Chamber Magazine, and Mothers of Enchantment: New Tales of Fairy Godmothers. She teaches at Central Connecticut State University. And check out our SHOP PAGE with our all new DIGITAL DOWNLOADS HERE

HAPPY MAY! Among the changing months, May stands confessed the sweetest, and in fairest, colors dressed! -James Thomson The beautiful month of May is here! May is the month that is a bridge between spring and summer- A time when the garden starts growing, the birds sing, the flowers bloom, and the sun warms the days in anticipation of summer. This month is thought to be named for the Roman goddess Maia, who oversaw the growth of plants. Maia was considered an earth goddess and nurturer which may explain the connection with this springtime month. To celebrate May, we've gathered some folklore, poetry and more for you to enjoy below! BELTANE BELTANE (which means "lucky fire") is a celebration first attested in 900AD in Gaelic culture. It is one of four Gaelic festivals that are still observed today (along with Samhain, Imbolic and Lughnasadh.) Celebrated on the evening of April 30th, (the eve of May Day) Beltane was focused on the symbolic use of fire to bless cattle and other livestock before being moved to summer pastures. The lighting of bonfires was a ritual meant to protect farmers, crops, and cattle, as it was thought that the flames, smoke, and ashes had protective powers. People would walk around the bonfires or jump over embers for luck, and cattle would be made to jump over small bonfires to protect their milk from being stolen by fairies. Fires in the home hearth would be put out and then re-lit using the Beltane bonfire to ensure extra luck and protection. In addition to bonfires, this celebration included feasts with some of the food and drink being set aside as an offering to fairies as well. In early Irish literature, Beltane is mentioned and is considered another time of the year when the veil between our world and the underworld is thin, making it the best time to contact spirits. Conversely, the beings of the otherworld, such as fairies, and other spirits, can also have an effect on humans. That's why the protection of bonfires and other Beltane rituals were important. MAY DAY Celebrated on May 1st, MAY DAY is a traditional spring festival in many cultures. It is also linked with Gaelic Beltane, as well as being the date of International Workers' Day. May Day is the celebration of the return of spring and has a connection to astronomy, as it's the halfway point between the spring equinox and the summer solstice. The celebration is also rooted in agriculture since springtime festivities, filled with song and dance, hailed the sown fields starting to sprout. Cattle were driven to their summer pastures and special bonfires were lit. The "bringing in the May" rituals involved the gathering of wildflowers or green branches, the weaving of floral garlands, the crowning of the May king and queen, and the maypole. These rites were originally intended to ensure fertility for crops, livestock, and humans, and the celebrations of May Day around the world today still include many of these ancient rites. A delicate fabric of bird song Floats in the air, The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere. Oh I must pass nothing by Without loving it much, The raindrop try with my lips, The grass with my touch; For how can I be sure I shall see again The world on the first of May Shining after the rain? -Sara Teasdale, May Day MAY BIRTH FLOWERS Lily of the Valley & Hawthorn LILY OF THE VALLEY To show the one you love that your life is complete with them, give them a few lilies of the valley as this fragrant flower signifies sweetness, humility, and happiness. HAWTHORNE The hawthorn plant is the other May flower. It represents hope and supreme happiness, and when you give it to someone, it signifies that you want only the best for them. FLORA Goddess of Spring The earliest known May celebrations appeared with the Floralia, festival of Flora, the Roman goddess of flowers and spring, which was held the 27th of April through the 3rd of May in ancient Rome. Flora was the symbol for nature and flowers, especially the May-flower. Being one of several fertility goddesses in Roman mythology, her association with the spring gave her great importance at the coming of springtime, and her festival symbolized the cycle of life, rebirth, and flowers. THE FULL MOON OF MAY The Flower Moon May 5, 2023 The full moon for May is named the Flower Moon for the simple reason that many spring flowers are in bloom at this time of year. May's Moon Phases Full Moon: May 5 Third Quarter: May 12 New Moon: May 19 First Quarter: May 27 Oh! fragrant is the breath of May In tranquil garden closes, And soft yet regal is her sway Among the springtide roses. - William Hamilton Hayne, American poet (1856–1929) THE MAYPOLE MAYPOLE CHANT Here we come piping In Springtime and in May; Green fruit a-ripening, And Winter fled away. The Queen she sits upon the strand, Fair as lily, white as wand; Seven billows on the sea, Horses riding fast and free, And bells beyond the sand. The MAYPOLE is a tall wooden pole erected as part of various European May Day folk festival celebrations, around which the maypole dance takes place. It is thought by historians that maypoles were set up as part of spring rites to ensure fertility and as a sign that the season of warmth and growth had returned. The pole shape allowed for garlands or ribbons to be hung from them, and they were first seen in the British Isles between AD 1350 and 1400. The maypole dance is the ceremonial folk dance performed around the maypole which is garlanded with greenery or flowers and festooned with colorful ribbons that are entwined into patterns as the dancers holding them dance around it. Many maypole chants have been written to accompany this dance, and some dancers wear bells to mark off the beats of the chants or music by making their steps cross between a skip and a jog, coming down in time to the music. When April steps aside for May, Like diamonds all the rain-drops glisten; Fresh violets open every day: To some new bird each hour we listen." - Lucy Larcom MAY BIRTH STONE Emerald EMERALD is the birthstone of May and is associated with love, fertility, and rebirth. It was purported to be Queen Cleopatra's favorite gem, and ancient Romans dedicated the stone to Venus, the goddess of love and beauty. The emerald signifies patience, growth, and wisdom. It is also thought to improve memory, soothe nerves, grant foresight, and ensure loyalty. MAY FOLKLORE A dry May and a leaking June make the farmer whistle a merry tune. A warm January, a cold May. A wet May makes a big load of hay. A cold May is kindly and fills the barn finely. Mist in May, heat in June, make the harvest come right soon. The first 3 days of May were thought to be the time when the evil influence of fairies was at their strongest. To prevent them from entering your home, scatter primroses across the doorstep as they cannot pass it. The Hawthorn tree is thought to be a tree of protection and can prevent lightning from striking the home and from storm damage when growing in the yard. A swarm of bees in May makes a lucky day. For good luck throughout the spring, bring branches into your home of forsythia, lilacs or other flowering shrubs from your region. Gathering the first dew on May mornings will guard against the evil eye. Washing the face with dew on May 1st can beautify the skin. Sweet May hath come to love us, Flowers, trees, their blossoms don; And through the blue heavens above us The very clouds move on. - Heinrich Heine, Book of Songs And finally, Some music that evokes the "feeling" of May to us... Wishing all our FTM readers an enchanted May! Share what you love about this month in the comments section below~ The Fairy Tale Magazine's contributing editor, Amanda Bergloff, writes modern fairy tales, folktales, and speculative fiction. Her work has appeared in various anthologies, including Frozen Fairy Tales, After the Happily Ever After, and Uncommon Pet Tales. Follow her on Twitter @AMANDABERGLOFF

The Spellbook of Fruit and Flowers by Christine Butterworth McDermott is the perfect summer book for a poolside read, or for a cooldown after a day of gardening in the sunshine. This book explores themes of freedom, tranquility, and fantasy while pondering the question: What is it like to be a woman in this world? McDermott uses different fruits and different types of flowers throughout each of the poems as direct odes, or as tactics for symbolism, which gives the poems a fantasy and whimsical feel that will get your own creative brain moving. The book is divided up into three sections, the first one containing primarily fruit and flower related poems, the second is a short section containing only one long poem, and then the third is broken up into many short poems again. She also includes figures from history, mythology, and legend as subjects in her work, so if you’re a fan of Hades and Persephone, Ariadne, and Adam and Eve type tales, this is definitely the book for you. The poem in particular that stood out the most to me was Certain Bones, With Wisteria. It is a critical and whimsical dive into history, discussing figures such as Caspar Wistar, Jefferson, and Lewis and Clark—and the roles of women and wives in their time and time before theirs. Wisteria is used as a symbolizer for women. It makes a point that women deserve to be considered equal to everyone else and the wisteria represents that idea. I would absolutely recommend this book be added to your TBR list this summer. It’s the perfect break from all the chaos of the day, and is a way to wind your body down while also waking your mind up. You can buy the book HERE. Madeline Mertz is FTM's editorial intern and is a Truman State University student with literary journal experience.