In an ancient stump that squatted ten strides from the edge of a thriving flower garden, the only window of the Council Chamber was closed fast—an ominous sign to any of the Faerie Keepers. Two such faeries saw it as they flitted to the hidden entrance of the stump, and glanced at each other knowingly. Entering silently, they walked down a gracefully carven corridor and opened the tall, ornate door into the Chamber.

“Welcome, Anise and Hyssop,” she said in a voice that was delicate, yet strengthened by its numerous pleasing undercurrents. “Please join us.”

Anise slid into the nearest seat, Hyssop beside her. She pretended to ignore the neighboring faeries as they shifted subtly away from her and her brother. Hyssop leaned over and whispered, “It’s not as if Marigold’s scent is much milder than ours. At least our Charge’s smell is pleasant…”

Anise discreetly kicked him under the table just as Elderflower stood. “I am sure that you are all aware of the present danger to many of our Charges,” she said.

Several seats away on Anise’s right, Sunsprite Rose’s fist crashed onto the table. “Aye,” she snorted, her thick brogue curling the edges of her words, “we’re all aware of the long-eared vermin devouring our flowers! That’s why we all came to this stuffy Chamber, Elder!” Her shock of yellow curls stood out as if electrified, and her deep green eyes flashed with irritation.

“Peace, Sunsprite,” Elderflower said serenely. “I have called this council to come to a solution. The Fence of Picket was not sufficient to prevent these rabbits from invading, and now we face the consequences. The discussion is open.”

Sunsprite ran her fingers thoughtfully over the sharpened stem of thorns in her belt. “I can propose one way to rid ourselves of them…”

Elderflower frowned at her. “You know it is against the Law of Keepers to harm the Charges of another Keeper. And,” she said just as Sunsprite opened her mouth, “I have already spoken with Keeper Cottontail.” Hyssop quickly turned a snort of laughter at the name into a muffled cough as Anise kicked him again. Elderflower went on. “He refuses to intervene, declaring that he wishes the rabbits under his care to be free to live according to their instincts.”

Dandelion shifted uneasily in his seat on Hyssop’s left. Being a member of the Wilder Branch of the Floral Division, some of the Garden Keepers considered him rather strange. His golden hair was typical…except that it sported two layers, the top of which was composed out of the very petals of his Charge. Dandelion was prone to mood swings; his irrepressible cheerfulness frequently flipped to fretfulness, and when it did so the outer layer of his hair morphed into downy grey seeds that shed every which way in the wind. 

Now his twangy voice trembled as he spoke, and the tips of his hair began to fluff ominously. “I mayn't be strictly a Garden Keeper, but my Charges is in danger here as much as anyone’s—’specially ’cause rabbits have a despic’ble taste for dandelions. I’ll lend a hand where I can.”

Snapdragon tossed a lock of scarlet- and cream-streaked hair out of his eyes and said haughtily, “I can’t see why you would. Your flowers are nothing better than weeds in our garden, so why don’t you scuttle back to the forest where you belong?”

Dandelion quivered with indignation, and several seeds dislodged from his head to drift slowly to the floor. “You know I keep my Charges in their proper place in the Garden!” 

“It would be a remarkable feat, considering their untidy Keeper!” Snapdragon snapped. He turned to Elderflower. “My help will be limited, as I’m quite busy guarding my Charges—they’re very delicate, you see, and need constant care.”

He certainly lives up to his name, Anise thought with a pinch of bitterness, twisting a strand of her curly indigo-blue hair in one hand. Always quick to retort, and hordes his Charges like gold. Rabbits don’t even like his flower! She stood. “Elder, my brother and I have devised a plan to remove the rabbits.”

Elderflower, after subduing Snapdragon with an iron glare, turned her attention to Anise. “Speak your thoughts, then.”

Anise rose, and Hyssop hurriedly stood beside her. “We have little time, so I will be brief,” she said. “Rabbits do not eat our flower.”

For several moments, the Council Chamber was dominated by a shocked silence. Then Hyssop cleared his throat. “Our plan,” he began, “is to ring the Garden in a “fence” of anise hyssop.” He grinned. “Apparently, rabbits don’t like the smell or taste of licorice.”

Elderflower drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the table. “Yes,” she said slowly, “that would keep the rabbits from invading again…But how shall we drive them out?”

Anise cast apologetic glances at the surrounding Keepers. “I’m afraid that the most effective way will be to lure them out with tender portions of their favorite flowers.”

Uneasy muttering broke out among the Council members, then stilled as Elderflower raised her hand. “It is a necessary sacrifice. Is it not better for a small number of our Charges to be given up only to save many more?” She turned to Anise. “What flowers do they find most attractive?”

Sunsprite leaped up again. “They’ve devoured nearly a third of mine already! What will a few more mean, if it sends the beasts from our Garden?”

Seeds floating freely from his head, Dandelion also stood. “I—I know the critters like my Charges real fine…” He swallowed hard, then continued, “I reckon that if it’ll help the other flowers, I can spare some.”

“Your two contributions should be enough,” Anise said. “Thank you both.”

“You have our deepest gratitude,” Elderflower said with a warm smile as she stood. “There are two rabbits in the Garden—at least that we are aware of. Ready yourselves, for we must begin immediately.”

The sun had spilled its first rays into the Garden when the Keepers set their plan in motion. Most of the Keepers were directed to guard their respective plots from the rabbits, armed with stems of the tall mint that Anise and Hyssop distributed. Snapdragon haughtily refused them, responding curtly to Anise’s expressed worry that he was quite capable of defending his Charges without her interference.

Anise and Hyssop began their planting on the south side of the garden, nearest to where the rabbits were last seen. Moving gradually away from each other, they slowly formed a wall of anise hyssop, three plants deep. Each was aided by two more Keepers, faeries whose Charges could not yet be planted at this point in the spring. 

As Anise flew to her and her brother’s typical plot to collect more flowers, she caught sight of a wavy mop of yellow hair bouncing wildly through the assorted foliage. Sunsprite, she realized with a twist of sudden apprehension. Were we right to suggest this? If we fail, she will have sacrificed her Charges for nothing!

Soon Anise could hear the spirited Rose’s voice as she sped nearer: “Come at me, ye villain! Ye call that a jump? Oy now—keep those chompers to yerself!” Flitting madly along the wide Garden trail, Sunsprite burst into view. Butter-yellow petals protruded randomly from her arms, and below her a young rabbit dashed as if possessed, leaping up to nip at the air with squarish teeth. Every now and again, a petal would fall, and the rabbit would snatch it up before bounding wildly after Sunsprite again.

“He’s a fiery lad!” she cried to Anise as she blurred past. “Gutsy as ever I’ve seen—I’ll give ‘im that!”

“The plan wasn’t to aggravate them, Sunsprite!” Anise shouted back. “Just to lure them—”

“—out the North Gate!” Sunsprite finished, ducking beneath a nodding sunflower only to flit higher as the rabbit made another frenzied leap. “Don’t fret! I’ll drive ‘im off one way or the other!” She vanished as quickly as she had appeared, her devoted follower close beneath her. 

Shaking her head, Anise resumed her work, gently loosening the roots of one of her Charges and lifting it in her arms. Swiftly she bore it through the flowering shrubs and nodding buds of the Garden, gladly drinking in their fragrance. Her eyes landed on a yellow rose petal as the wind sent it fluttering, and she felt a stab of remorse for the plant’s sacrifice. It was soon driven away by a smile, though, at the image of Sunsprite’s joyous face as she drew the frustrated creature out of the Keepers’ Garden.

For many hours the Keepers toiled endlessly; Anise’s fingers were soon raw from scraping the soil, her slender frame aching from the countless transfers of her Charges. As the sun dipped to graze the canopy of the surrounding forest, she and her team reached the North Gate. Anise gently compressed the earth over the roots of the last hyssop, then flew up to sit on a post flanking the Gate with a tired sigh. Then she stiffened. On the eastern side of the Gate, where she expected to see Hyssop’s wall of mint approaching, there was nothing but a stretch of the faulty Fence of Picket.

Where is Hyssop? Her alarm mounting, Anise sprang off the post and called to her fellow workers, “Hyssop isn’t here yet! Spread out and guard the empty span—I’ll find him.” With a flare of her wings she swooped to skim over the top of the Fence, wincing as she sensed the Keepers break off stems of her Charges to wield.

As she rounded a plot of sunflowers, still with no sign of Hyssop’s wall, she halted midair at the spectacle beneath her.

“Dandelion?” Anise called softly.

He glanced up slowly, as if the world’s weight were dragging his face downward. “It’s bitter, Anise. Real bitter. But if it’ll save the rest…” He trailed off, then sniffed loudly and dropped another two dandelions onto the trail. “At least she’s bein’ mannerly about it,” he remarked glumly, watching the older rabbit as it daintily nibbled one of the flower heads. “Gives a kind of dignity to their sacr’fice.”

Anise fluttered over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a true soldier, Dandelion,” she said, unsure whether she would join him in his sorrow or burst into laughter. “The North Gate isn’t far now.” Flashing an encouraging smile over her shoulder, she darted away to resume her quest.

Anise found Hyssop’s branch of the wall…and was struck with horror. The newest end of the wall was mutilated—chewed, she realized. Several feet from it, Hyssop and his two helpers danced wildly back and forth just over the ground, wielding stems of hyssop in an attempt to drive an enormous rabbit through the opening. The creature, however, was undeterred. Agile as only one of its species could be, it leaped to and fro around the Keepers’ swinging mint. Its dark eyes flashed with irritation, and its immense ears lay flat along its neck. It’s as if it senses that it has nothing to fear from us, she thought with a surge of alarm. The Keepers themselves were in danger of being trampled underfoot as they struggled to prevent him from bounding back into the Garden.

Then Anise’s heart lurched into her throat as one of the faeries lingered a moment too long before the rabbit, and it lunged forward to seize the flower head in its mouth. Tearing the stem from the Keeper, it gnawed it for several seconds, then dropped its stubby remains onto the ground. It eats our Charges?! Anise swooped down to a dirty, disheveled Hyssop as he withdrew to gather his breath. “It eats our—” she began.

“Yes!” he panted, wiping his face on a tunic whose indigo color was all but lost beneath a layer of dust. “This one, whom the others are calling “the Devourer,” has eaten from just about every plot in the garden. Marigolds, salvia, our flower—you name it! If we can just get him outside the wall, its sheer thickness might discourage him…”

Whirling, the rabbit dashed straight toward Anise and Hyssop. “Hold your ground!” he cried as Anise moved to dodge aside. “We’ll have no hope of driving him out  if he gets past us!” Hyssop’s jaw was clenched with desperate determination. “If we let him by, the Garden is doomed.”

Swallowing hard, Anise hovered beside him as the Devourer bore down upon them. Each of its long bounds shook the earth, and when it loomed above them Anise knew that it would not turn aside. Even as it charged, its eyes were fixed not on them but on the enticing mass of flowers beyond. Again she felt the pain of her Charges’ sacrifice, and her heart clenched at the thought of every other Garden Keeper suffering the same.

Then a piercing whistle split the air. As if struck by the slat of a fence, the Devourer skidded to a halt, freezing motionless with whiskers trembling and ears erect. Anise looked into its eyes as it crouched inches away, and in them there was now nothing but a deep, instinctive fear. The falling, high-pitched cry rang out again—the cry of a hawk, she realized—and the rabbit spun tensely to face the plot of half-grown sunflowers.

Snapdragon burst from between their limber stalks, the battered heads of two of his Charges bristling in each hand. His dark blue eyes flashed, and his multi-colored hair whipped in unruly tangles behind him. He pursed his lips, and the predatory whistle emerged for the third time. “Out, you beast!” he cried fiercely. “Back to the forest where you belong!” He flew straight at the rabbit and swung the flower stems. To Anise’s complete astonishment, the Devourer recoiled, repulsed by the bitter-scented stalks. Snapdragon pressed the advantage, plying both his whistle and his Charges as he drove the rabbit further and further back. 

“Now’s our chance!” Hyssop cried. “Anise, collect some of the other Keepers. If Snapdragon can hold him off long enough, we might just finish the wall!”

The words had barely left his mouth when Anise sped away. Her wings flashing furiously, she reached the North Gate in less than a minute. Sunsprite and Dandelion hovered just within, speaking rapidly with her two helpers. Dandelion’s yellow head was completely free of seeds; only his true, close-cropped hair remained. “Sunsprite! Dandelion!” she cried, nearly breathless. “Come quickly! A third rabbit—the eastern side—”

Before she had finished speaking, Sunsprite was beside her. “Stay here and guard the gap,” she called over her shoulder to the other Keepers. “I’m still in the mood fer bull-baiting, Anise.” She turned and spotted Dandelion still hovering beside the helpers, his expression blank. Her tone burning with exasperation, she barked, “Dandelion! Move yer wings!” and streaked away like an arrow from a bow.

He blinked in startlement, and Anise barely suppressed a laugh as he darted to join her in the flight back to the chaos of her brother’s wall.

The next few hours blurred in Anise’s mind. Mindlessly she worked, coaxing hyssop after hyssop from her brother’s plot and transferring it to the leafy wall. The barrier moved swiftly forward with Sunsprite and Dandelion’s aid, and soon the team had reached the North Gate. 

Just as Hyssop stood from planting the last flower, Snapdragon dropped over the top of the wall. For several moments, no one spoke as he hovered before them. Abruptly, he handed a snapdragon stem to Sunsprite. “You might want to patrol the border in case that overgrown grasshopper tries to eat his way back in,” he said gruffly. Sunsprite’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, but she raised an eyebrow. “Why did ye suddenly decide to help us? I thought you were too consumed with yer own Charges to budge from yer plot.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and had the grace to look mildly ashamed. “The Devourer paid a visit to my plot, and left as soon as he discovered its type. But the nearby plots…the flowers…” He shuddered and gazed down at the wilted snapdragon stems in his hands. “I realized that my Charges meant a great deal to me, but they could mean more to the other Keepers if put to use—that, and I know how to use a hawk’s call. And so I came,” he finished simply. 

Sunsprite grinned at him. “Ye see! Thinking of others didn’t kill ye.”

Snapdragon stiffened and opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I suppose,” he said with a hint of sour resignation, “that swallowing sharp remarks won’t either.” He turned to Anise and Hyssop. “To keep the like of the Devourer away, I suggest we plant a ring of my Charges against the outer layer of your wall. In fact,” he said, a prideful glint in his eyes, “I may enjoy tending the Garden’s primary defense.”

Hyssop leaned close to Anise’s ear as Snapdragon turned away. “And…he’s back. Let’s hope his sudden promotion doesn’t reverse his change of heart.”

Anise smiled, watching the Keeper organize several others to aid in the gathering of his Charges. “Whether it does or not, he deserves our gratitude. He’ll always be honored as one of the few who drove away the scourge of the Keepers’ Garden.”