A/N- Aha! Chapter 2, finally. Hope you like...

Thanks so much to ElvenVampyreFairy for her review!

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Scary made it to her Grandmother's house without further mishap, though she kept a close eye out for lurking trolls.

"Morning Granma! Happy Easter!" Scary walked in the door and followed the breeze of cinnamon into the kitchen. Granma Rosa was stacking fresh cinnamon rolls onto a plate, with two glasses of milk standing by.

"Happy Easter, sweetheart. Ah, a jump rope, I used to have such fun with those."

"I got it in my Easter basket." Scary hugged her Grandmother and sat down, hanging aforementioned rope over the back of her chair. "You wouldn't believe the morning I've had!"

"What, your Father actually managed to cook his roast?"

Scary snorted, almost spilling her milk. "Not yet. You never know Granma, he might get it right this year."

"Hmm," Granma Rosa replied, rolling her eyes heavenward for patience. "I suppose it could happen."

"Well, given what else I've seen so far today, it's not as impossible as it sounds. Apparently you have a troll living under your bridge. And it's a grouchy one, too."

Her Grandmother chuckled. "Yes, she is. And that's troll with a capital 'T', dear. You didn't give her your name, did you?"

Scary shook her head, not believing what she was hearing.

"Oh, that's good. Trolls tend to be more irritable than usual at this time of year. All the flooding, you see. I've heard it gets their lairs dreadfully damp and uncomfortable. She may have hexed you if she had known your name."

Scary stared at her. "Yeah...that's about what the wolf said. I swear, all we need now is the Gingerbread man."

"A Wolf?" Granma Rosa set down her cup. "Oh dear. Which one?"

"He wouldn't tell me his name. Wait a minute, how do you know all this? Why's all this stuff suddenly happening?"

Her Grandmother sighed and smiled sadly at her. "Well...it isn't just happening, sweet. It's been this way all along."

"What, and I just never noticed?"

"That's about it."

"But...but..." Scary had to give her brain a mental poke to collect her scattered thoughts, which were running around in little circles, pulling at their hair. "But I've been coming to your house on that path my entire life! How could I not notice?"

Granma Rosa sighed again. "It's a long story, but the shortest explanation I can give you is your Father."

"Dad? Dad knows about all of this?"

"Oh yes, he does. That's the reason your parents moved here, because the magic was so strong. But after your Mother died..." she sipped her milk slowly. "My daughter was a very headstrong, independent woman. She loved everything to do with magic. She even made friends with the Troll." She chuckled slightly. "We used to go on picnics with the fairies, the six of us. You were so little then. Naturally, we were all devastated when she died, it was so sudden. Your Father decided, in the midst of his grief, that he wanted no more of magic, of things 'unreal'. So the picnics with the fairies, the evening conversations with the Troll, it all ended. Eventually, the boys forgot the way it had been, and you were too young to remember it properly.

"You see," Granma Rosa shifted in her chair. "When you are totally oblivious to the Magic, it doesn't have the same effect on you. It may have no effect at all. You could have walked past that wolf every day and not seen him, nor could he stop you if he wanted. To you, he didn't exist, and how can you be bothered by something that doesn't exist?"

"So," said Scary, trying to absorb this. "Magic is real? Trolls, and fairies and talking wolves, and Dad knew this?"

"Yes," agreed Granma Rosa, handing Scary another cinnamon roll. "He has been protecting you all this time. Please don't be angry with him," she added, as Scary stared at the roll. "It was the best thing to do, given the circumstances."

"I thought Mom drowned," Scary said abruptly.

"She did, sweet. But it will be easier to give you the long version when your Father is here."

Scary sat back, staring at the ceiling. Yellow paint stared back at her. "Do Rob and Brian know? Is that why Rob left the way he did?"

"I don't believe so. I am not entirely sure about that part of the story. But Scary," Granma Rosa refilled their glasses from the pitcher on the counter. "Please tell be about this wolf you met."

By the time Scary was finished with her story, the cinnamon rolls were gone and the pitcher of milk was empty. "Well," Granma said. "Next time try asking what he is called. I've met him myself. Not a bad sort, as wolves go."

Scary sighed. "Call me dense, but I'm still not sure I get it, I mean...Wolves! And, and Trolls and fairies! How can they co-exist with...with..." she cast about for the most un-magical thing she could think of. "Lawnmowers! What about lawnmowers and dishwashers and...cd players! Magic belongs with castles and knights and things."

Granma Rosa just smiled.

"Well–" Scary started again. "Well..." she scowled down at her glass. "Hmph."

"While you're thinking," Granma Rosa said gently, "I have an Easter gift for you." She got up and took a small box out of her top cupboard. "This is something I came across that I thought you would like. I have one for each of the boys, as well."

The box was heavy, a little longer than her hand. Scary set it carefully on the table and opened the top. An almost-round package of white tissue paper sat within. Curiously, she lifted the item. A swift rustle of tearing tissue paper, and a large glass egg sat on her palm.

"Ooh," breathed Scary. "It's beautiful!"

It was transparent, solid glass. Swirling in it were three bubbles, looking almost silver. They rose from a circle of clear orange flames. The bottom of the egg was just flat enough to rest evenly on Scary's hand. The center bubbles looked like they were soaring through air, oblivious to what was around them.

"Ooh," said Scary again. "Thank you, Granma...it's amazing!"

"I hoped you would like it."

Scary stood the egg on the table, then rested her chin near it, so as to be eye level with it. "Where did you find something like this?"

Granma Rosa chuckled. "When last in our woods I met a rabbit with a cane and eyepatch, who told me the eggs were made by his nephew, a bald glassblower, during the last full moon."

Scary turned to look at her Grandmother, who was leaning against the counter. "Are you serious?"

"Quite."

"A rabbit with an eyepatch?"

"And a cane," she nodded cheerfully. "He was quite a large rabbit."

"And you bought this...from a large rabbit?"

"Yes."

"Well..." Scary looked somewhat at a loss.

"Aren't you hot in that coat, dear?" Granma Rosa asked.

Scary glanced down, realizing that in her continued state of befuddlement she had forgotten to remove her jacket. "Oops." With a sigh she got up and hung it on a coat rack in the hall.

"Are you going to help me make rolls for tonight?" her Grandmother called.

Scary heard her clearing off the table. "Sure. Will you need help with the cake?"

"It just needs to be frosted."

As Granma Rosa put up her hair, Scary got out the recipe book. "Do you often have conversations in the woods with large, cane wielding rabbits, by any chance?"

This was answered with a chuckle. "Goodness, no! Usually I converse with the fairies. They are the ones who put up with humans the most often."

"Right...Do you ever feel like you're suddenly living in a Harry Potter book? Are there any psychotic wizards I should watch out for?"

Granma Rosa almost dropped her bowl she laughed so hard. "No...no. It's nothing like that." She sighed and wiped her eyes on a napkin. "It's more like the old stories, the fairy tales. Hansel and Gretel, Puss in Boots, Janet and Tam Lin."

They worked in silence for a few minutes while Scary digested this. She poked the stick of butter heating in a pot with her fork and glared at it to make it melt faster. As usual, it didn't work. "You're very matter-of-fact about this whole thing," she said after a while.

"Well, it's just the way things are. Although I'm still puzzled as to why you noticed it all today. What makes today so different from yesterday, or last week?"

"Good morning, Rosa!" called a deep voice from outside the window.

Granma Rosa leaned over the sill and peered out. "Ah, hello Constanthus! Do come in and have a cup of milk with us!"

"I don't wish to intrude, Rosa. I merely wished to inquire if your Granddaughter arrived safely."

"Yes, she's quite alright. She's in here now. Please join us Constanthus, I'd like her to meet you."

Scary leaned back from the stove, trying to see who was outside, to no avail.

"I don't mean to interrupt."

"Nonsense. Come and join us. I insist."

There was a pause, then Granma Rosa beamed. Wiping her floury hands on a towel she went to open the door. "Constanthus is a very dear friend of mine," she said over her shoulder to Scary. "He is one of the most polite people I've ever met. You'll see what I mean."

For a split second, Scary wondered if Constanthus of the deep voice was Granma Rosa's boyfriend. She stifled a giggle and turned the burner down.

"Now," said Granma Rosa's calm voice. "Scary, this is Constanthus of the Keystone Glade. Constanthus, you remember Scary?"

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A/N-- Mwa ha. A miniature cliffie. ;) I'd really like to know if I should keep posting this story, so your reviews are very important!

Allyp