Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg

by Gail Carson Levine

“Mmm…” Ree knew Vidia’s promises were worth little, but she didn’t know what more to do. She told Terence to give the dust satchel to Rani.

  He lifted it over Rani’s head and adjusted the strap across her shoulder.

  They were ready to go.

  “Wait!” Tink pushed through the crowd. “Here.” She gave Rani her favorite dagger (once a pirate’s toothpick). “I have another one.” She touched her second-best dagger in its sheath at her waist.

  Ree intoned, “Questers, be careful, be kind, be a Never fairy at her best.”

  They were off.

  SEVENTEEN

  THE QUESTERS started for Pirate Cove.

  Prilla said, “We’re sort of a talent, aren’t we? We’re quest-talent—”

  “—fairies.” Rani felt sorry for Prilla. “A talent is a little different.”

  “Entirely different,” Vidia said. “For example, dear child, you always like and care about the others in your talent.”

  That’s mean! Prilla thought.

  “Vidia!” Rani said. “We care about each other.”

  “I care about Rani,” Prilla said pointedly.

  Rani blew her nose, touched.

  “Dear child, I don’t mind if you hate me. But let’s see if I care about you. Let’s see if your talent is fast-flying.” Vidia sped up and called over her shoulder, “Catch me.”

  Prilla fluttered her wings as hard as she could. She kicked her feet and flapped her arms. She didn’t want to be in anything with Vidia, but she wanted to outdo her. And, of course, she wanted a talent.

  She wished a wind would come along and push her, only her.

  But no wind came, and no matter what she did, she could fly just slightly faster than Rani. She had no chance of reaching Vidia, who was a dot in the distance.

  Vidia waited for them at the shore. When they arrived, she said, “Dear child, your talent is for being untalented.”

  “Don’t listen, Prilla,” Rani said. “Vidia, we have no time for insults.”

  “Precious, we have no time for slowpokes.” Vidia started out over the water.

  They flew the three-quarters of a mile to the ship. The night was so quiet you could almost hear Never Land thinking. On the Jolly Roger, the helmsman nodded at his wheel.

  The fairies flew from porthole to porthole, wondering which belonged to Captain Hook. They mistakenly flew through the crew’s porthole window and were blown right back out by the snores.

  Three portholes farther on, they entered Hook’s cabin. Hook snored too, but his snores were refined. He snored in iambic pentameter, with an occasional spondee thrown in.

  Prilla hovered above Hook’s bureau, where a dozen roses had been placed exactly as he liked them—stems in water, with the decapitated blooms arranged around the vase.

  Vidia touched down on his desk in the midst of his collection of nose lengtheners.

  Rani flew to the bed.

  There, clenched in Hook’s teeth, was the cigar holder, bearing two enormous unlit cigars.

  Hook lay on his back. He’d thrown off his blanket, and his pillow was bunched beneath his large head. His hand rested on the sword strapped around his nightshirt. As Rani watched, he shifted a little and scratched his belly with his hook.

  He stopped snoring and began to speak. Prilla froze in fright and almost fell out of the air.

  “Captain Joshua Abreu, March sixth, ’twenty-two: planked.”

  His eyes didn’t open, and the fairies realized he was talking in his sleep. The cigar holder moved as he spoke, but it didn’t fall out.

  “Captain John Amberding, July seventh, ’twenty-four: poisoned. Captain Harvey Ardill, October eighteenth, ’twenty: planked. Captain William Bault, January fifth, ’eighteen: planked.”

  Hook was listing the captains he’d killed, alphabetically!

  How gruesome! Rani thought. Cold with fear, she flew to Hook’s lips and pulled gently on the cigar holder.

  It didn’t budge.

  “Captain Alistair Bested, February twenty-seventh, ’twentyone: hooked and dangled.”

  Rani wondered if he’d start on the first mates when he finished the captains.

  “What do we do now, sweet—”

  “—heart?” Rani wished Ree had sent someone else to be leader. “Er... Er...”

  “Captain Simon Bontarre, August…”

  “Maybe if we wait awhile,” Prilla said, “something will happen.”

  No one could think of anything better, so they settled themselves amid the roses on the bureau. Prilla felt proud of having made a suggestion that the others had followed. Rani tried to think of a way to get the cigar holder, but no ideas came.

  And if they did get it, Rani wasn’t sure they’d be able to carry it. The holder was five and a half inches long, studded with emeralds. Even without the two gigantic cigars it would be heavy. They’d use fairy dust to lighten both the cigars and the holder, but still, they’d have a job bringing it all to shore.

  An hour passed while Hook recited dead captains up to the letter H.

  Rani tried to drown him out by whistling mermaid songs. While she whistled she worried. They weren’t going to save Mother Dove if they spent the next three days on Hook.

  Vidia cracked her knuckles.

  Prilla arrived in the bedroom of a Clumsy boy who was sitting up in bed, looking frightened.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He whispered, “Something’s breathing under the bed.”

  Prilla flew down to see. No monster, just a few dust bunnies.

  “All clear.” She did a handspring in the air—

  And landed on the pillow of a girl who was reading under the covers with a flashlight. Prilla somersaulted onto the girl’s ear. The girl didn’t notice. Giggling, Prilla sang, “There’s a fairy in your ear.” The girl reached up, but—

  Prilla was back on the ship. Hook was still clenching the cigar holder. She said, “Don’t you love being silly with Clumsy children?”

  “Dear child, why would I do that?” Vidia said.

  “I’ve never tried it,” Rani said.

  Prilla wondered if she was doing something wrong by going to the mainland. She didn’t go on purpose, but she’d be miserable if she stopped.

  A second hour passed. Prilla visited the mainland again (a zoo and an ice-skating rink), but this time she didn’t mention it.

  Hook reached the letter N.

  Vidia said, “Rani, darling, if you don’t stop whistling, I’ll rip your lips—”

  “—off. I guess I’ll stop.”

  Prilla had liked the whistling. And she thought a leader should stand up for herself.

  A third hour passed. Dawn wasn’t far off, and Hook would wake soon.

  Once he woke up, they’d never get the holder.

  EIGHTEEN

  TINKER BELL spent the night at Mother Dove’s side. From time to time Mother Dove woke up, weeping for her egg. Each time, Tink patted her neck feathers awkwardly and said, “Don’t cry. Try to sleep.”

  But Mother Dove couldn’t not cry, although eventually she did go back to sleep. Only to wake up again. And again.

  Another half hour passed on the pirate ship. Hook reached the letter R.

  “Darlings, can’t someone think of something?”

  Vidia hasn’t made any brilliant suggestions, Prilla thought. She said, “What if I tickle his feet? Maybe he’ll let—”

  “—go.” Rani wiped her sweaty forehead. If Hook did let go, she wasn’t sure she and Vidia could carry the cigar holder by themselves.

  But what else was there to do? “Good idea,” she said. “But wait until Vidia and I are ready.”

  Prilla flew to Hook’s feet and saw the birthmark on his left instep—a cutlass dripping blood. Her wings stiffened with fear.

  Rani and Vidia positioned themselves under the cigar holder. Prilla steeled herself and tickled.

  But Hook wasn’t ticklish.

  Prilla flew to Rani, and the fairies hovered above Hook’s face. Ooh, he
’s ugly! Prilla thought. His skin looked like candle wax.

  “I want to try something,” Rani said. “Go to the holder.”

  Prilla and Vidia went.

  Rani flew to Hook’s ear and shouted, “Open your mouth!” She knew he couldn’t hear her, but sometimes a concept got through.

  Nothing happened.

  She shouted louder, every syllable slow and distinct. “OPEN YOUR MOUTH!” Please open, she thought, for Mother Dove and the fairies.

  Nothing happened.

  Rani found herself weeping. “Open your mouth, you bad pirate.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Open your mouth, you murderer!” She kicked his cheek as hard as she could with her pointy-toed wasp-skin boots.

  Ouch! Hook’s mouth opened in surprise.

  Vidia and Prilla pulled the cigar holder out.

  Hook woke up. In a flash, his sword was out and he was on his feet, slicing the air. “Have at you, villain!” He smiled in the darkness. A new foe to kill.

  The cigar holder was too heavy for Prilla and Vidia, although they tried to slow its fall. Rani wanted to fly over and help, but she was afraid of being sliced.

  The cigar holder landed on the floor.

  Hook felt no resistance to his sword. “Where are you, knave?” He lowered the weapon and peered into the darkness.

  Rani flew down to the holder. She and Prilla shook fairy dust on it. Vidia might have added some of her fresh dust and made it even lighter. But she wanted to save her dust for herself.

  Hook wondered if the jab at his cheek had been a dream. He sheathed his sword and noticed the cigar holder wasn’t in his mouth.

  Vidia and Rani tilted the holder while Prilla pulled on a cigar.

  Hook saw the holder and reached down for it. It jerked as Prilla got the cigar out. When he saw the cigar and the holder move, Hook stumbled back. A ghost! He felt a cold draft waft through the open cabin door.

  But he feared no man, living or dead. “Spirit, back to Davy Jones’s locker!” He drew his sword again, stabbing here and stabbing there. He raked the air with his hook.

  The fairies were afraid to move. The open porthole looked miles away.

  In a downward sweep of his sword, Hook accidentally lopped off one of Rani’s pockets.

  Someone has to distract him, Prilla thought. Even though she was terrified, she ran around him. Staying close to his nightshirt, she flew up to his head where she pulled on one of his corkscrew curls, as hard as she could.

  He whirled around. “Coward, face me!”

  Rani and Vidia shook the cigar holder, and the second cigar fell out. Even without the cigars, the holder was heavy, but they began to fly it upward, toward the porthole. Prilla kept pulling Hook’s hair.

  He stabbed and still felt nothing against his sword. He whirled again and saw the holder, on its way to the porthole. Two ghosts! he thought. One pulling my hair and one stealing my cigar holder.

  He dropped his sword and reached for the ghost pulling his hair. With his hook he attacked the air where the other ghost should have been.

  Rani and Vidia flew through the porthole.

  Hook’s hand closed around Prilla.

  NINETEEN

  HOOK WATCHED his cigar holder vanish over the waves. When it was gone he looked down at his fist. Prilla’s head was free, but he couldn’t see it. Nonetheless, he knew he’d caught something, and he didn’t think it was a ghost.

  His grip was too firm for Prilla to wriggle out. Her wings were crumpled. She’d have been in agony if wings felt pain.

  Hook wanted light to see what he was holding. He headed for his lantern. As he walked, he tightened his grip on Prilla. The pressure on her lungs was so great she couldn’t even scream.

  Not that screaming would do any good.

  Out over the ocean, Rani felt awful about leaving Prilla behind. Naturally, they’d come back for her; but she could be dead by then.

  The cigar holder grew heavier with every inch. Despite their frantic efforts, she and Vidia were descending.

  The holder would have been much lighter if Vidia had used her fresh dust before. She wasn’t thinking about that, however, because she never blamed herself for anything. Instead, she was mad at Rani for not flying faster.

  The shore was a half mile off, and at this rate they’d never get there with the holder.

  Prilla wished she had Rani’s dagger. She wished she were covered with butter. She wished she could vanish and reappear wherever Rani and Vidia were.

  Hook started lighting the lantern with his teeth and his hook. He’d done it many times. It took only a few minutes.

  Prilla began to hope. He’d open his hand to look at her, and when he did, she’d fly away—if her wings still worked.

  Rani and Vidia were eighteen inches above the waves. They’d been graced with a strong wind at their backs, and they hadn’t lost any height for a few minutes.

  But Rani was tiring rapidly.

  Hook got the lantern lit. He went to the porthole and shut the window. Then he started for the door.

  Prilla was going to be trapped.

  Rani and Vidia were fighting a downdraft that had forced them within nine inches of the water. Vidia had already felt ocean spray on her ankles.

  Hook was three steps from his door. Prilla bit into his index finger as hard as she could. She spat out the blood, which was viscous and purple and tasted like spoiled cheese. She bit again. And again.

  Veteran of many battles, Hook was accustomed to pain. He took two more dogged steps before he looked down at his hand—

  And saw his own blood. A ticking crocodile and the sight of his purple blood were all Hook feared. He shrieked and let go of Prilla.

  Before she hit the floor, her wings righted themselves, and she began to fly. She flew out of the cabin, up a short flight of stairs to the deck, and over the ocean, hurrying after Rani and Vidia.

  The sea was vast. Prilla looked for Rani’s and Vidia’s glows, but the sky was brightening, and fairy glow no longer stood out.

  Still, Prilla thought she saw a sparkle. She flew toward it, hoping it wasn’t Rani and Vidia. If it was, they were very close to the water. Prilla flew faster, although she was exhausted by her struggle with Hook.

  She shouted, “I’m coming! Don’t drown!” But her voice was lost in the roar of the waves.

  The shore was a quarter mile off. Rani and Vidia descended another inch.

  Prilla was catching up, but not fast enough.

  Rani wondered if it was time to tell Vidia to drop the holder and save herself.

  They descended another inch.

  Rani yelled, “Drop the holder!” although she didn’t let go.

  Vidia was as brave as Rani. She yelled, “No!”

  Rani thought of drowning, of melting into the delicious sea.

  Prilla yelled, “I’m coming!”

  But it was hopeless. She couldn’t possibly reach them in time.

  TWENTY

  THE QUEST would have ended right then. Rani and Vidia and possibly Prilla would have drowned.

  But Never Land interceded.

  The island had been observing the fairies and rooting for them. It didn’t want them to fail.

  So it slid the beach toward them.

  When Rani and Vidia fell into the sea, expecting to die, the water came up only to their knees.

  A wave was coming. They dragged themselves and the holder onto dry sand. But they couldn’t remain there either. It would be absurd to escape drowning only to be killed by a hawk. They pulled the holder toward an outcropping of rock a few yards up the beach. Prilla arrived and helped.

  Then they collapsed.

  A cool autumn breeze swept across the island, although autumn had never before come to Never Land, only spring and summer.

  Peter Pan woke to find a dozen baby teeth next to him on his sleeping mat.

  Hook’s bosun, Smee, couldn’t remember where he’d left his spectacles.

  The Never bear’s knee wa
s stiffer today. And when he sniffed the air, he smelled a beehive but couldn’t tell if it was to his north or to his south.

  In the courtyard outside the Home Tree, Queen Ree shivered in her open-weave fern mantle. A sparrow man ran to her. All over Fairy Haven, nuts had ripened overnight and had fallen to the ground.

  At first Ree thought that was good, but then she realized that the mill wouldn’t grind without dust. They were likely to starve.

  Still half asleep, Mother Dove wondered why she didn’t feel the egg under her. Then she remembered, and her heart broke all over again.

  Her eyes had filmed over during the night. Everything looked blurry. She swung her head, searching for Tink.

  “I’m here.” Tink made herself smile to keep from crying.

  Mother Dove whispered, “Talk to me.”

  Tink had no idea what to say. Then she thought of the pots and pans on her worktable. “Dulcie brought in a cookie cutter last week. Won’t cut any shape but clover. She tried…”

  If she’d been well, Mother Dove would have been glad to listen to whatever Tink wanted to say about a cookie cutter. But now she couldn’t keep her mind on the words. “Not about cookie cutters, Tink. Or pots.”

  Not about pots? But Tink didn’t have anything else to talk about. She thought for a full five minutes. She took out her dagger and turned it over and over in her hands.

  Then she began, “The first time I met Peter Pan I saved him from a shark.” She’d never told this to anyone. She’d never talked about Peter before.

  Better, Mother Dove thought. She settled herself as comfortably as she could and willed herself to listen.

  In the early afternoon, Prilla awoke from dreaming the dreams of Clumsy children. Rani and Vidia were still asleep, and she was afraid to wake them. Vidia would probably make a crack about a talent for waking fairies up when they wanted to sleep.

  Prilla sighed. She decided to see if she could blink over to the mainland on purpose. She was probably misbehaving, but it was such fun to be there, and she didn’t see what harm it did.

  She closed her eyes and remembered the bedroom of the boy who’d heard noises under his bed. A bicycle had leaned against one wall. A window had been open. The curtains had been blue and white stripes. She tried to push herself there. She tried to take a gigantic leap.