Rosie’s tiara sparkled as she listened and nodded. Then she buzzed back. “They say they have been practicing all morning. They took a short break to rest their wings. And now they’re ready for one last rehearsal.”

  “I can’t wait to hear it,” Clara said.

  The dragonflies each flew to a flute-flower and hovered just above it. As the wind from their beating wings blew through the flutes, Clara heard a high, clear note. Next, the bumblebees landed on the flute-flowers’ holes, and to Clara’s delight, the note changed. Rosie grinned and buzzed encouragingly at the dragonflies and bumblebees. With her hoof, she tapped out a beat on the cobblestones. Clara joined in with her tap shoe. After a few seconds, the bumblebees began flying from flute-flower hole to flute-flower hole while the dragonflies kept beating their wings. Together they played a song. When it ended, Clara clapped.

  The dragonflies and bumblebees flew up above the flute-flower bushes and formed a line in the air. Then they all bowed. Rosie buzzed excitedly. “I just told them they have worked really hard on their part, and it shows,” Rosie said. “They’re ready for the concert.”

  “They sound great,” Clara agreed.

  “Let’s go listen to the caterpillars’ final practice session on the harp ferns,” Rosie said. She and Clara walked to the next garden bed. There, Clara saw an explosion of lemon-colored ferns. On the end of each unruly frond was a small gold harp.

  Clara heard a high-pitched twittering sound coming from the ground. She looked down to see a group of blue caterpillars gathered around a large green leaf. The caterpillars were taking bites from the leaf and making twittering sounds with their antennae. Rosie’s tiara sparkled as she listened to the twittering. Then she turned to Clara. “The caterpillars say that now that they’ve finished lunch, they’re ready for one last rehearsal,” Rosie said. “They also said it takes them at least twenty minutes to crawl all the way up the ferns to their harps. They’re wondering if you could pick them up and put them on their instruments.”

  Clara smiled. “I’d be glad to help,” she said. She kneeled next to the caterpillars. She gently picked one up between her thumb and forefinger. The caterpillar smiled and made a twittering noise. Clara placed the caterpillar on one of the harps. With its legs, it plucked the strings to play a series of joyful notes.

  Clara kneeled and picked up another caterpillar and placed it on a harp. And then another. And another. When she had placed all the caterpillars on harps, Rosie tapped her hoof to a beat.

  Clara joined in. Clara closed her eyes and listened to the music. When the caterpillars finished, Clara clapped. Rosie’s tiara sparkled as she made excited twittering noises. “I told them their music sounds wonderful and that they’re ready for the concert.” The caterpillars crept to the top of their harps, stood up, and bowed.

  “We have one last rehearsal to listen to,” Rosie said. “Are you ready to hear the fireflies play the trumpet plants?”

  “Definitely,” Clara said. She followed Rosie to the next garden bed, where tall, thin plants with red stems, orange leaves, and closed purple buds stood in neat rows. A small swarm of fireflies rushed over. In unison, they flashed and blinked their lights. Rosie’s tiara sparkled as she watched.

  “The fireflies say they’ve just taken a long nap and now they’re ready for a final rehearsal,” Rosie said. “I’ll tell them to get in their positions.” She flashed and blinked her tiara.

  Each firefly flew to one of the purple buds and hovered above it. Rosie tapped her hoof to a beat, and Clara joined in. A firefly lit up, and the purple bud underneath it burst open to reveal a small silver trumpet that blasted out a note. The firefly stopped shining, and the bud immediately closed around the trumpet. Soon, fireflies began flashing on and off. Buds opened, trumpets blasted notes, and then the buds closed. Clara listened and watched in amazement.

  When they finished, Clara clapped and Rosie’s tiara blinked. “I told them they’ve done amazing work practicing. They’re definitely ready for the concert,” she said.

  Rosie looked ahead at the last garden bed, a square of dark earth with no plants. “I haven’t planted anything there yet,” she said. “I was about to plant squeaker vines, and I even got a bag of squeaker vine seeds. But then I read in my gardening book that unless they’re in a shady spot, they grow really fast and take over the entire garden.” Rosie shrugged. “Anyway, the blankets for the audience are in the shed. Why don’t we start spreading them out in the grass?”

  “Sounds good,” Clara said. She realized she had been so interested in the insects’ rehearsals that she had forgotten to check on Quack. She looked around the garden for the puppy. She felt relieved when she spotted Quack in the grass, sleeping in a patch of bright sunlight. Clara smiled and skipped over to the shed.

  Rosie pulled a rope handle to open the shed door. Inside, Clara saw shovels, hoes, rakes, bags of soil, bags of mulch, balls of twine, and a stepladder. On top of the step-ladder was a brown paper bag labeled, “Squeaker Vine Seeds.” Behind the ladder was a pile of folded blankets.

  “I’ll move the stepladder out into the garden so we can reach the blankets,”

  Clara said.

  “Good idea,” Rosie said.

  Clara picked up the stepladder with the seed bag on top and placed it outside the shed on the walkway. She ducked back inside the shed and grabbed two blankets from the top of the stack. As she skipped over to the grass to spread them out, the garden door swung open. Snow, Stitch, and Lucinda burst in. “Hello!” Snow called out.

  “How can we help?” Stitch asked.

  Lucinda purred. “I was thinking that since Quack played my favorite kind of game with me, I’d try playing one of her favorite games with her.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Rosie said. “But please don’t dig any holes in my garden.”

  “I was thinking I’d offer to play chase,” Lucinda said. She waved her tail in the air as she pranced over to Quack. She used her paw to gently tap the sleeping puppy’s nose. Quack opened her eyes. As soon as she saw Lucinda, she jumped up and wagged her tail. Lucinda ran in a circle around Quack. A look of pure delight came over Quack’s face. She sprinted across the garden as Lucinda chased her. They leaped together over flute-flower bushes. The wove through the harp ferns. They ran right through the trumpet plants. And then, they crashed right into the stepladder.

  The bag of squeaker vine seeds soared into the air. As it arced upward, it flipped upside down and sprayed seeds all over the garden. Then, the empty brown bag floated to the ground. For a moment, the sun shone down on the seeds. In the time it took Clara to blink, lime green shoots emerged from the seeds as roots fingered into the soil. The shoots soon turned into thin, leafy vines. Clara watched as the vines grew and grew, snaking, twisting, and tangling across the garden. The vines wove back and forth through the trumpet plants. They spiraled around the harp ferns. They crisscrossed the flute-flower bushes. Clara watched with wide eyes as the vines began to grow small, shiny purple balls that, in a matter of seconds, swelled from the size of a blueberry to the size of a plum.

  “ Oh no!” Rosie gasped, as a vine circled her hoof and began to climb her leg.

  “What a disaster,” Snow said, stepping away from a tendril that was grasping for her tail.

  Stitch’s mouth hung open in shock.

  Quack whimpered.

  Lucinda raced behind the shed and hid.

  “This is terrible,” Rosie whispered. “Is there any way to make them stop growing?”

  “I don’t think so,” Stitch said.

  Snow shook her head and gulped.

  Clara suddenly remembered her father saying they had to plant the sugar snap peas in time for the vines to make peas before the first frost. That meant cold might stop the vines from growing. “Snow,” she said quickly, “can you use your magic to freeze the squeaker vines?”

  Snow nodded. The snowflake design on her tiara sparkled. White light flashed. Shiny clear ice coated the vines. Instantly they stopped growing. Clara let out a long sigh of relief. And then, she, Snow, and Stitch stared at each other in stunned silence.

  Finally, Rosie shook her head and whispered, “I’m so glad you had that idea to use Snow’s magic to stop the vines. But,” she said as her eyes filled with tears, “now my garden is ruined. Vines are covering all the plants. We’ll have no choice but to cancel the concert. The best day of my life is turning into the worst.”

  Clara wrapped her arms around Rosie’s neck. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Let’s all take a deep breath and think for a moment about whether there is any way to save your garden and the concert.”

  Clara, Rosie, Snow, and Stitch all sucked in their breath and exhaled slowly. Snow furrowed her brow as she thought. Stitch stared at a cluster of tangled, icy vines and took several more long, deep breaths. Rosie sucked in her lips and tapped her hoof. Clara closed her eyes so she could concentrate on coming up with a creative solution. Then she felt two paws pressing against her leg. She looked down to see Quack. Quack’s tail drooped, her ears lay flat against her head, and her eyes looked dark and sad. She made a long, low whimpering noise.

  Rosie’s tiara sparkled as she listened. “Quack says she’s really sorry she spilled those seeds,” Rosie said.

  Clara kneeled and petted Quack. The puppy half-heartedly wagged her tail and sniffed one of the vines. She used her mouth to tug on it. And then she bit down on one of the purple balls. The ice on the ball cracked and fell off. Quack bit down on the ball again. This time it made a loud, squeaking noise. Quack wagged her tail and squeaked the ball several more times. Then she tugged on the vine again. As Clara watched, she thought about how much fun Quack had had digging and tugging on branches in the meadow. She also thought about how badly Quack and the wolf cubs had wanted to play in the Garden Orchestra.

  And then, all of a sudden, Clara had an idea. She hopped up and down with excitement and turned to Rosie, Snow, and Stitch. “I have a plan to save both the garden and the concert,” she said.

  “I’ll do absolutely anything to help,” Rosie said.

  “Me too!” Stitch said.

  “Me three!” Snow said.

  “Fantastic,” Clara said. “Do you think it would be okay to use two balls of twine and two of the blankets?”

  Rosie nodded. “Absolutely. There are a few extra blankets in the shed anyway.”

  Clara nodded. “Great,” she said. “The first thing we need is a bunch of sticks. We’ll need one long, thick one and about six smaller ones. Would you mind asking Quack to go get the sticks from the meadow?”

  Rosie furrowed her brow in confusion. “I can’t imagine how some extra blankets and a few sticks could get us out of this mess, but I’m willing to try anything.” She shrugged, looked at Quack, and barked.

  Quack listened for a few seconds. Her ears perked up. Her tail wagged. She yipped with excitement. And then she bounded across the Sky Garden and out the door. “Quack really wants to help,” Rosie said. “She’s going to go gather sticks in the meadow. I told her to ask the wolf cubs for help.”

  “Great idea,” Clara said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Clara jogged over to the shed. The tangled, frozen vines crunched beneath her feet. She grabbed two folded blankets and two balls of twine. She ran back across the vines and set the blankets and twine down in front of Stitch. Just then, all six wolf cubs and Quack burst into the garden. In her mouth, Quack dragged a long, thick stick. Wendy, Watson, Wanda, Wallace, Wendell, and Willa each carried a shorter, thinner stick. “Could you ask Quack and the wolf cubs to drop the sticks in a pile next to the blankets and twine?” Clara asked Rosie. “And maybe also tell them we’ll need their help again in just a moment.”

  “Sure thing,” Rosie said. Her tiara sparkled as she barked and howled.

  Quack and the wolf cubs wagged their tails as they dropped their sticks in a pile.

  Clara turned to Stitch and asked, “Do you think you could use your magic to make a parasol out of the sticks, twine, and blankets?”

  Stitch frowned. In a nervous voice, she said, “I’ll do anything at all to help. And I love sewing challenges. But the truth is that I don’t know what a parasol is.”

  “No problem,” Clara said. “It’s like an umbrella. Except it blocks sun instead of rain.”

  Stitch grinned. She looked for a few seconds at the supplies. And then she reared up with excitement. “I know exactly what to do,” she said. The needle and thread design on her tiara sparkled. All the sticks lifted up into the air. The big stick Quack had brought floated vertically, like a pole. The other small sticks arranged themselves like spokes around the top of the big stick. Then one of the balls of twine lifted up into the air. Glittery light flashed. And the twine wove around all the sticks, binding them together.

  “So far, so good,” Stitch said, furrowing her brow in concentration. Her tiara sparkled more, and the blankets rose up into the air and unfolded. A magic pair of golden scissors appeared, and in a swirl of glittery light it cut the blankets into long, identical triangles. The triangles floated over to the top of the stick pole and formed a circle. Finally, a giant gold needle appeared. The other ball of twine floated upward. The twine threaded itself through the needle. And then, in a golden blur, the needle sewed all the blanket triangles together and sewed them to the sticks. The finished parasol twirled in a circle and flew right into Clara’s hands.

  “Thank you so much,” Clara said. “This is perfect.”

  “My pleasure,” Stitch said. “I’m very curious to see what you’re going to do with it.”

  Clara carried the parasol over to the empty garden bed. She planted it right in the center, so it cast a shadow over the entire bed. “Now we have a shady spot for the squeaker vines,” Clara said.

  “It was a great idea to make them a parasol,” Rosie said. “But how will we move them? It would take us hours to dig up all their roots. And then we’d have to somehow drag them over to the shady garden bed.”

  “It would take a human and three pegasus princesses hours,” Clara said with a smile. “But it will only take a puppy and six wolf cubs a few minutes.”

  An enormous grin spread across Rosie’s face. “You’re right!” she said. She looked at Quack, Wendy, Watson, Wanda, Wallace, Wendell, and Willa. Her tiara sparkled as she howled and barked.

  Quack, Wendy, Watson, Wanda, Wallace, Wendell, and Willa slowly wagged their tails as they listened carefully to Rosie. Then they began to dig up the vines and drag them over to the shady garden bed. Clara kneeled next to the bed and planted the vines as soon as Quack and the wolf cubs brought them over to her.

  In a few minutes, Clara had planted every single squeaker vine plant under the parasol. As she brushed the dirt off her hands, she noticed that all the ice had melted. She watched the vines for a moment and sucked in her breath, hoping the parasol would provide enough shade that they wouldn’t take over the garden again. To her relief, she couldn’t even see them growing at all.

  “You did it!” Rosie exclaimed, rearing up with excitement as she looked at her garden. “You saved my garden and the concert. Thank you!”

  “That was an amazing, creative solution,” Snow said.

  “It was my pleasure,” Clara said. She looked at the squeaker vines and then at Quack and the wolf cubs. “I had one other idea. Do you think Quack and the wolves could play the squeakers on the vines as part of the concert?”

  “What a great idea,” Rosie said. “I’m so glad you thought of a way to include them.” Her tiara sparkled as she howled, yipped, and barked. Quack, Wendy, Watson, Wanda, Wallace, Wendell, and Willa listened for a few seconds. And then they howled with glee and raced over to the squeaker vines’ shaded bed. Their tails wagged as they bit down on the squeakers over and over again.

  After a few seconds, Rosie howled and barked, and Quack and the wolf cubs stopped playing. “I told them that they sound great,” she said. “And then I asked them to stop playing until it’s time for the concert.”

  Clara nodded. She ran to the shed, got the rest of the blankets, and spread them out in the grass. As she finished, Mist, Aqua, Flip, Star, and Dash galloped into the garden.

  “ Wow, everything looks great,” Mist said.

  “I had no idea you were planning to add a squeaking section to the orchestra,” Aqua said, nodding toward the squeaker vines.

  “It was a bit of a—” Rosie began.

  “Last-minute decision,” Stitch and Snow said in unison.

  Clara, Rosie, Stitch, and Snow looked at each other and laughed.

  Just then, a parade of Wing Realm creatures entered the garden. Squirrels, rabbits, chipmunks, beavers, skunks, foxes, badgers, porcupines, mice, rats, frogs, and lizards—all with wings—filed in and sat down on the blankets. Clara noticed Winnie sitting among a group of foxes with a joyful expression on her face. Clara caught her eye, and Winnie let out a happy howl. Clara knew Winnie was excited her cubs were getting to participate in the orchestra after all. When all the audience members were seated, Rosie looked at her sisters and Clara. “It’s time to start,” she said, rearing up with excitement.

  Clara and the pegasus princesses grinned excitedly at each other. They walked to the patio and stood in a circle.

  Clara looked at the garden beds. The butterflies and bumblebees were ready at the flute-flowers. The caterpillars had crawled onto their harps. The fireflies were hovering above the buds on the trumpet flower bushes. Quack and the wolf cubs sat around the squeaker vines. And Clara noticed a patch of silver fur next to Quack. She stood on her tippy toes to get a better view. Lucinda had come out of her hiding place behind the shed and was sitting right next to Quack, sniffing a squeaker. Clara giggled.

  “Here we go!” Rosie said to Clara and her sisters. And then she counted, “A one and a two and a one two three four,” as she tapped her hooves. Clara tapped out rhythms with her tap shoes while the pegasus princesses tapped and slid their hooves against the slate. The dragonflies and bumblebees played the flute-flowers. The caterpillars plucked the strings of the harp ferns. The fireflies blinked and flashed to blast the trumpet flowers. And, to Clara’s delight, Quack, Lucinda, Wendy, Watson, Wanda, Wallace, Wendell, and Willa bit the squeakers to the beat.

 

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