Evening was just beginning to peep through the windows of September’s little house, glowing blue and rose. September found herself at the kitchen sink, with her hands deep in soapy water that had long gone cold, a pink and yellow teacup still clutched in her hand. Behind her, a small, amiable dog yapped away at nothing. September looked down—her lonely mary jane, who had missed all the adventures, lay cast off and forgotten on the parquet floor. Her feet were bare.

“Mama won’t be home yet!” she said suddenly. “Oh, how glad I shall be to see her!”

September put on a kettle of tea for her mother, and set out a clean little plate with an orange on it, and opened all the windows to let fresh air in. She even let the small dog kiss her nose. September got a blanket out of the closet and curled up in her father’s big, threadbare couch just by the door, so the first thing her mother saw when she came home would be her girl, safe and sound. Besides, September felt as though she could sleep for a century. She pulled the woolen blanket up around her chin as the dog chewed its own tail at the foot of the chair.

I wonder what did happen to all the fairies after all? When I get back, that will be the first thing I shall ask Ell about! After all, Fairy begins with F! And when spring comes again, I shall be sure to leave my mother a note and a nice glass of milk.

September drifted off to sleep in her couch, her long hair wrapped around her. When her mother came home from a long shift at the factory, she smiled and bundled her little one off to bed, snug and whole and warm.

She did not notice. Of course she didn’t. Who would, after a long graveyard shift and with her back so sore? A mother cannot see every little thing, and glad we may be that she could not, as it would have caused a great deal of trouble September would never have been able to explain. All stories must end so, with the next tale winking out of the corners of the last pages, promising more, promising moonlight and dancing and revels, if only you will come back, when spring comes again.

For when she lifted her daughter up out of the threadbare couch, September cast no shadow at all.

Thank you to everyone who read and supported Fairyland. A print edition will be coming soon from Feiwel and Friends. September’s adventures will continue in The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland and Led the Revels There.

Goodbye from all of us here in Lands Beyond: the Green Wind and the Leopard, Mr. Maps, Queen Mallow, Iago, all Witches, Calpurnia and Penny, Hortense Francis Weckweet, A-Through-L, Saturday, and September. And lastly, from Cat, who really must brush the dust from her hair and clean the ink from under her nails, and who loves you all.