Fairy Haven and the Quest for the Wand Read online

  Faster!

  She raced toward the setting sun. Her ears smarted. She touched one and looked at her hand. Blood on her fingers.

  Didn’t matter.

  Faster!

  There was the mainland. So soon. She zoomed over lakes, cities, deserts, mountains, canyons, plains, and back over the open sea.

  Faster!

  As she flew, she stroked the wand. “Dear wand. Sweet wand. Kind wand.”

  She circled the world—three times. The sun rose and set thrice, although to the questers only half an hour had crawled by.

  Vidia wasn’t breathing hard. Her lungs weren’t threatening to explode. Her heart wasn’t about to burst from her chest. This was heaven. She flew straight up toward the transparent daytime moon. When her hair and lips froze, she turned and dived back to earth.

  There was nothing to it. She could fly infinitely fast. Infinitely! And there’d still be nothing to it.

  The elation drained out of her. The strain of trying to fly faster was gone now, but so was the triumph of beating her own record, of eking another scintilla of speed out of her tired wings.

  This effortless speed was boring.

  She hovered in the midst of a high cloud. “I’m grateful, love,” she told the wand. “But now I need my old flying back. Wand, darling, make me fly as I used to, before my first command.” She waved it.

  She felt no change. She flew and found there had been no change.

  Maybe she’d phrased her wish incorrectly. “Dear Wand, I command you to make me fly no faster than the natural strength of my wings and my talent and fairy dust let me.” She waved it.

  Nothing changed.

  Vidia thought she might not be waving the wand hard enough. She waved it harder and longer.

  Nothing changed.

  “Wand, cutie pie, make me earn my speed.”

  It wriggled, deep in a wandish dream.

  What did the wriggle mean? “Are you listening, Wand?” She shook it. If it had had a neck, she would have strangled it.

  She tried yet another wording. And another. And another.

  She tried flicking the wand, flipping it, flapping it, wagging it, jiggling it.

  She screamed. She wept.

  Through the night she tried to reverse her wish. Her fairy dust ran out, but she no longer needed fairy dust to fly.

  At dawn she admitted defeat.

  She remembered Mother Dove’s warning—that her wish would break her heart.

  T H I R T E E N

  REE CALCULATED that they’d left Fairy Haven four days ago. It would be a miracle if a dozen fairies hadn’t drowned by now.

  Rani thought about what would happen if they returned without a wand. Everyone would have to find a new home. They might have to emigrate to the mainland.

  “Ree, darling…” Vidia flew backwards in front of the four fairies, holding the wand.

  They lunged at her, but she sped off, so fast that they knew what her wish had been.

  Wand madness returned.

  “Dearheart…Queen Ree…Queen Clarion…” Vidia hovered a foot away. “Tell me how to reverse my command.”

  “Give me the wand,” Ree said sternly.

  “First tell me, sweet.”

  “When Rani dives with the wand, I’ll tell you.”

  “Now, or no wand.”

  Ree shook her head.

  “Tink, love, you tell me. I need to fix myself.”

  Tink said nothing.

  “Rani—”

  “—honey. I won’t tell you.”

  “Ree, sugarplum, if the wand goes to Soop, can I still reverse my wish?”

  Ree had never before lied to a subject. “Yes.”

  Vidia gave her the wand. “If you lied, Your Majesty, love, I’ll haul you to the sun and throw you in.”

  The fairies turned the carrier. Vidia joined them at the cord, and the five began to fly. But the questers and Terence could only cling to the cord in terror while Vidia zoomed along. When they were halfway across the sea, she heard their shouts. She stopped while they flew into the carrier.

  Then she pulled them all, flying so fast the air felt like knives against their faces.

  Vidia flew around the globe and over the mainland. She set off across the sea in a new direction.

  Tink was imagining new kinds of pots—pots that could cook away from the stove, frying pans that wouldn’t need oil, pots that would know when food was cooked. Ree was thinking of bringing the Giant Shimmering fairies to Fairy Haven to work for the Never fairies. Rani thought of turning herself into a dolphin for a day.

  Terence looked from Tink to the wand in Ree’s lap. Soon they’d be in Never Land. The wand would be lost to him forever, and with it his chance to have Tink’s love. He leaned forward, as if he were going to speak to Ree, and in a graceful, gentle gesture, took the wand. “Make Tink…”

  She turned to him, startled.

  “…like me, like me…romantically.” He waved the wand.

  For a split second, Tink thought of Peter and his clamshell. She raised her hand to pull her bangs, but her hand stopped, and she smiled at Terence.

  Terence saw her change her mind, go from the irritation she really felt to the happiness she had to feel. He didn’t know whether to be glad or sad. Tink liked him. But was she still Tink?

  Vidia slowed to the speed of an ordinary fast flier. “Loves, I can’t find Never Land.”

  “It doesn’t want the wand,” Ree said.

  Tink wondered if she’d ever see her pots again. “I’m glad you’re here,” she told Terence.

  “I’m glad, too.” He added, “We haven’t tried fairy dust.” He took a handful of dust out of the sack. “Look through it as I go.” He flew around the carrier, trailing a stream of dust.

  The others squinted into it, hoping to see the island on the horizon. They didn’t, although they did glimpse a spire of Tutupia’s castle on the mainland.

  “I’ll dive into the water with the wand,” Rani said. “Maybe Never Land will think it’s gone. I’ll stay under for half an hour.”

  “Dearheart, you think Never Land will simply—”

  “—appear? Maybe.”

  No one could think of anything better to try. Rani took the wand.

  “Don’t lose it, sweet—”

  “—heart. I won’t.”

  Tink would have told her to take care, but she was smiling into Terence’s brown eyes.

  Rani dived.

  Vidia rose high above the balloon carrier to catch the first sight of Never Land.

  Ree felt her mind clear. It was easier to think with the wand underwater. She said, “I wanted to enslave the Shimmerers.”

  Tink felt the madness lift, too. “I broke Peter, and I’m broken.” She tucked her arm through Terence’s. “But I don’t want to be mended.”

  Terence found the courage to touch Tink’s ponytail, which was exactly as soft and springy as he’d imagined.

  “I wish I could unshrink the hawks,” Ree said.

  Tink remembered her ideas for new pots. Pots were perfect just as they were. “I don’t want to make more wishes.”

  Ree said, “If the wand were awake—”

  “It’s asleep?” Terence said.

  Ree nodded. “If it were awake, we’d be safe.”

  “Why?” Terence asked.

  “Because it wouldn’t obey us,” Tink said. “We could make wishes, and it wouldn’t listen. And if we could make it obey, we could make it reverse our mistakes.”

  Luckily, Vidia was too far off to hear this.

  “So wake it up.” Terence thought Tink could do anything.

  Tink wondered if she could. She’d been able to feel its sleep.

  “But,” Ree told him, “Tutupia said it could do things to us if it were awake. She said it might be mischievous. And some wands don’t have kind hearts.”

  “Tink can tame it and fix its heart. Then it will be safe for Soop.”

  “It’s not safe now,” Ree said.

/>   Tink tugged gently at Terence’s ear. “I’m not a Great Wandy.” But it would be the most thrilling thing to try.

  Ree said, “You could make it reverse our wishes.”

  “Except Terence’s,” Tink said.

  He said nothing, feeling torn in two.

  Ree said, “Mother Dove would want every wish reversed, if the wand were awake.”

  They knew that was true.

  “Then I’d reverse Terence’s,” Tink said. “It wouldn’t make any difference. I’d feel the same.”

  He knew she wouldn’t. She hadn’t cared about him before. Now she’d hate him for meddling with her feelings.

  “Tink, try when Rani comes back,” Ree said. “Then maybe Never Land really will come.”

  Underwater, Rani swam in a circle, holding the wand, mad as ever. A school of herring passed a few yards away. Below her, she saw an orange sea fan, as big and full of branches as an apple tree.

  She could stay in the water now endlessly. She could create a race of water fairies. They could live in this very sea fan, practicing their talents and being snobby about mermaids.

  But they wouldn’t have Mother Dove. Rani knew she couldn’t wand up an underwater Mother Dove.

  Oh! A shark! Using her talent, Rani made the water around her solid. The shark would bump its nose if it came close.

  But it barreled by.

  Rani treaded water, feeling silly for hiding to fool Never Land. Never Land had never been fooled before.

  What if she didn’t try to fool it? What if she really gave up the wand? She could summon Soop and make sure they were friends. Rani could leave the wand with her. Then Never Land would appear and let its fairies in.

  “Bring…” She hesitated. Before she gave the wand away, she could make Fairy Haven safe forever. No more hurricanes. No more floods. No more risk to Mother Dove or to any of them. No more disasters. No more anger. No more sadness. Only happy fairies working happily on their talents. Only happy Mother Dove, cooing happily.

  She raised the wand.

  F O U R T E E N

  ON HER NEW branch, Mother Dove sensed Rani’s wish. No! No! That’s the worst wish! She cooed and tried to send the coos across the island and into the ocean’s depths. Rani, don’t make it.

  Rani remembered how much she loved to cry, not only happy tears but sad ones, too. She chose not to make the wish. Instead, she said, “Bring Soop to me. Don’t hurt her.” She waved the wand.

  It obeyed, and Never Land decided to come with Soop.

  At first Rani felt no change. A speckled jellyfish drifted by, waggling its frilly mouth arms. Rani was about to repeat her wish when she felt the currents strengthen.

  Above the sea, the fairies saw an enormous wave form in the distance. The wind blew up. The fairies fought to stay above the spot where Rani had dived, although they were no longer sure precisely where that was.

  As the wave approached, it began to curl. A whirlpool formed. Tink thought she saw Rani spinning in the vortex, clutching the wand. She squeezed Terence’s hand so hard he winced.

  Then the sea closed over the whirlpool, and the sea’s surface became as flat as a pond. Ree and Tink and Terence stared into it, hoping to see Rani rising toward them.

  Vidia flew down to the balloon carrier and said, “My sweeties, look what’s come.”

  Underwater, Rani whipped round and round, with no more control than a shred of seaweed, her arms, legs, and new wings spread flat against a wall of water. The whirlpool drew more and more of the ocean into its orbit. Rani saw a manatee, a herd of whales, a sunken ship with twelve masts.…

  Oh! There was the mermaids’ castle, with dozens of mermaids clinging to the girders.

  The whirlpool slowed. The castle settled on the ocean floor, and there was Soop in a tower room, her long pink scarf candy-striped around her.

  The water stilled. Rani held the wand in front of her. She swam toward Soop, her wings sweeping the water like fins.

  Soop unwound her scarf. Where was she? She looked around. Home! Home? How could she be home when she’d been flung through the ocean?

  “Soop!” Rani cried. “Here’s the wand.”

  Soop saw Rani. The fairy she liked so much had brought the wand! And the fairy had wings again. Soop smiled her best smile and waved her scarf. She sent her thoughts to Fairy Haven. In less time than it takes to think a single word, she dried up the flood.

  Ree reached up for her tiara, then remembered it wasn’t there. Tink, who had never clung to anyone before, clung to Terence. Vidia said, “Home, sweet home, darlings.”

  They were hovering a few yards from Marooners’ Rock.

  Soop and Rani swam toward each other. Just before they met, Rani had a last mad thought of waving the wand and wishing herself far away.

  Soop took it.

  “Can we swim together?” Rani said.

  “Certainly.”

  Mermaids aren’t curious about other creatures. Soop didn’t wonder how Rani could speak and breathe underwater, or why she now had wings.

  The two circled the castle together. Rani imitated Soop’s elegant breaststroke. She held her legs together and swished them, as Soop was swishing her tail. She dared to think she might be nearly as graceful as a mermaid.

  They passed a room where a mermaid was counting out cockleshell coins. In another room, a merman polished a sculpture made of coral. A clutch of merchildren were led through the shell museum.

  Soop whirled in the water and swam backward in front of Rani. “My friend! I haven’t welcomed you. Mermaids always welcome their friends.”

  Rani didn’t know what the welcome would be. She had never been happier. Her glow burned so bright that the water around her simmered.

  Holding the wand to her heart, Soop began her favorite ballad, one she usually sang on moonless nights when the clouds hung low. It told the tragic tale of a mermaid who loses her nautilus shell to an evil octopus.

  A mermaid’s voice is undiminished by water. Soop’s song rang out as clearly as it would have if she’d been singing on Marooners’ Rock at midnight.

  Oh, no! Rani wanted to beg Soop to stop singing, but before her mouth had opened halfway, the song had her in its thrall.

  Soop sang in Mermish, a liquid language without consonants. For a moment Rani thought she understood anyway. The song was so beautiful, its melancholy so poignant.

  Rani’s transformation began. She fought it. Through rising pain and panic, she tried to remain a fairy, to hold on to her fairy shape and her talent for water. When she knew she was losing the battle, she tried to call out, to tell Soop that wand wishes were permanent, but she couldn’t do that either. Soop’s voice was too compelling.

  A bat’s mind began to take over, and the song seemed to change. The joy and despair leached out of it, because bats are logical and pay little attention to feeling.

  Rani didn’t look very different yet, although her body was shrinking and her hands were growing, and webs were forming between her fingers. Her bat’s mind wondered what she was doing underwater.

  While Soop continued to sing, Rani started to swim toward the surface. Soop, who knew nothing of fairies turning into bats, was surprised and hurt, but, engrossed in her song, she went on singing. Perhaps if she’d stopped, the process unfolding in Rani might have reversed itself. It might not have been too late.

  Soop didn’t stop. Rani-bat kicked hard and rose above the castle. The strains of Soop’s song followed her through the lagoon.

  Tink saw a figure rise out of the water. “Look!”

  Rani’s dress was draped around the bat, the side seams ripped to accommodate the bat’s wings. A leafkerchief wafted down to the sea.

  Rani-bat’s vision was worse than poor, and the daylight almost blinded her. Still, the shore looked more appealing than the sea, so that was the way she went.

  Was any vestige of pure Rani left? Yes, more than a vestige. Rani was crammed into a pinprick in Rani-bat’s brain. Rani could think—anguished thoughts.
She could feel—terror and rage. She could hear through Rani-bat’s ears, peer through Ranibat’s weak eyes, but she couldn’t make Rani-bat’s body do anything. As Rani-bat’s wings beat across the water, Rani tried to cry for help, in case Tink and the others were there.

  She couldn’t make a single word come out.

  F I F T E E N

  TINK AND TERENCE took off after the bat. Ree started to go, too, but Vidia caught her arm. “How do I reverse my wish, love?”

  Ree tried to shake free of Vidia’s grip. “Get Rani!”

  “How do I reverse my wish?”

  “Catch Rani!”

  “Sweetheart, tell me first.” She let go of Ree.

  Ree stood straight in the air, as regal as she could be without her tiara. “You can’t reverse it.”

  Vidia’s glow turned bright red. “You lied.”

  Ree fluttered backward. “The wand can’t reverse wishes. It’s asleep. Only an awake wand—”

  “Why didn’t you wake it?”

  “We were going—”

  Vidia was gone. She was circling the earth, a red comet, a dying star, until finally she landed in her own sour-plum tree. She entered her room and stretched out on her bed. She had no desire ever to fly again.

  Tink and Terence lost sight of Rani-bat in the brush at the edge of the beach.

  Underwater, Soop finished her song. She wondered if she’d sung badly or if her new friend was angry with her. She hoped Rani would return soon so she could find out. Perhaps they could sing together then.

  In the meantime, she had a wand.

  Rani-bat flew toward the Wough River. From inside the bat, Rani tried to blow herself up into a fairy again.

  Halfway to the river, Rani-bat found a decaying cherry tree that was home to a colony of bats. From the edge of a tree hole she cheeped, “Pardon me. So sorry to be a bother. I should have made an appointment. I should have a letter of introduction. But I had no advance warning of my need for a residence. Would—”

  Rani tried to make the bat stop talking. Fairies didn’t say “pardon me” or “sorry.” And Rani didn’t want to have anything to do with those bats—or with the bat encasing her.

  Rani-bat felt something gnawing at a corner of her mind. She ignored the feeling and kept speaking. “—you be so kind? Might I ask…”