Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg

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Fairy Dust and the Quest for the Egg Page 8

by Gail Carson Levine


  VIDIA TOOK the dagger. “You’d cut off your wings?” For once her tone wasn’t mocking.

  Rani nodded bravely. “I’ve always wanted to swim.”

  Vidia would have died rather than given up her wings. She said, “Pet, they still may not give you a comb.”

  “You’ll have lost your wings for nothing.” Prilla wrung her hands. This was much worse than the hawk or the pirate.

  Rani yelled, “Don’t tell me what I already know!”

  Prilla wanted to say she’d give up her wings so Rani wouldn’t have to, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she said, “Won’t it—”

  “—hurt? It doesn’t hurt.”

  Prilla really knew this. She just wasn’t thinking. Wings don’t hurt. Cutting off a Never fairy’s wing is no more painful than cutting hair.

  Vidia raised the dagger. And lowered it. Raised it again, and lowered it again. She couldn’t do it. She was a fast-flier, and she couldn’t cut anyone’s wings off. She held the knife out to Prilla. “You do it, dear child.”

  “Me? Oh, no! Not me.”

  “Vidia… ”

  “Can’t do it, love. Can’t.”

  “Prilla,” Rani said, “cut them off.”

  Prilla shook her head.

  “Do it. I command you to.”

  Prilla took the dagger. She was crying so hard she could barely see. She held a wing just above where it met Rani’s shoulder blade. She made a nick and jumped back.

  “That’s it,” Rani said. “Keep going.”

  Prilla sawed at what looked like a short tree branch with the bark peeled off. To her relief it didn’t bleed. It was dense, though, and cutting through it was slow going.

  Vidia couldn’t stand to watch, so she rose into the air and began to fly along the shore.

  Rani called after her, “Get the carrier.” They’d need it to bring her and the comb back to land. “Keep going, Prilla.”

  Prilla was making good progress now. “I hope I don’t have a talent for cutting off—”

  “—wings.” Rani laughed through her tears. “Wait.” She turned and hugged a surprised Prilla. “You have a talent for being sweet.” She turned back. “Keep cutting.”

  If Prilla could have cried harder, she would have. No one had ever hugged her before. After a minute she said, “Is there really a talent for being sweet?”

  “No, but there should be.”

  Oh, Prilla thought. Oh, well.

  At last the first wing was off. The second went quicker because Prilla had gotten the hang of it. The wing came off and plopped on the sand. The wing slits of Rani’s dress hung open. Her wing stumps were milky white. Their surface was rough, with tiny sharp points sticking up.

  “Thank you, Prilla.” Rani couldn’t look at the discarded wings. She went to the water and waded in up to her waist. She’d never dared go so far in before. The water soothed her.

  Prilla thought the wings didn’t look as if they’d ever had anything to do with flight. They were just bony frames wrapped in gauze.

  But wait! They began to change. The frames turned from dull white to glossy pink.

  “Rani, look!” Prilla shouted.

  Rani hurried out of the water, frightened at Prilla’s tone.

  The wings began to vibrate. Rani wondered if they were going to disappear.

  The vibrating stopped. Diamond chips and tiny aquamarines shimmered through the gauze.

  “They’re beautiful,” Prilla breathed.

  Rani felt better. She must have done the right thing for her wings to become so marvelous.

  Vidia landed with the balloon carrier. “What are those pretties?”

  A note of pride crept into Rani’s voice. “My wings.” She stood up straight. “Now, take me to the mermaids.”

  “We have to put the wings somewhere safe.” Prilla carried them and Rani’s boots to a jumble of driftwood. She placed everything carefully out of the wind.

  Rani gave the satchel of dust to Prilla. Then she sat in the carrier, and Prilla pulled her out over the water while Vidia flew ahead. When they neared Marooners’ Rock, Rani jumped into the sea.

  She went under, and her dream of being surrounded by water came true. She wriggled her toes, flexed her fingers, curled herself into a ball, straightened herself out. She took great underwater leaps with her arms spread out.

  She opened her eyes. Big fish and small fish swam by. Gaily colored fish and drab fish and almost transparent fish swam by. A sea horse just Rani’s size rocked by.

  She was running out of air. She didn’t know how to swim, but she had an instinct for it. She moved her arms in a breaststroke and her legs in a scissors kick. In a few seconds she broke the surface of the water.

  Vidia and Prilla hovered above her. She waved, took a deep breath, and dived back under.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  RANI DESCENDED toward an upturned face. A mermaid! This mermaid was called Soop by Peter Pan, since he couldn’t pronounce her real name.

  Mermaids aren’t curious about other creatures. Ordinarily, Soop would have swum away from Rani. But she had quarreled with her best friend, and she was looking for amusement. She held out her hand for Rani to land on.

  The hand was longer than a Clumsy’s hand, long enough to be useful as a flipper, and the fingernails were wee fins. Soop was as big as a Clumsy, but not clumsy in the slightest. She was as graceful as the long pink scarf that swirled around her.

  Soop wasn’t sure if Rani was a wingless fairy, or a new creature entirely. She brought Rani up close to her face.

  Rani was surprised to see that the mermaid’s skin was made up of tiny glistening scales.

  Soop gently turned Rani around. She saw Rani’s wing stumps and realized what Rani had done.

  The realization broke through Soop’s snobbiness. She could imagine only one explanation for the sacrifice: this fairy had cut off her wings so she could swim with mermaids. Soop wept briefly, although Rani couldn’t tell. She bowed her head, and Rani saw the comb nestled in the flowing yellow-green hair.

  The comb was made of whalebone. The teeth were fashioned into a toothy grin. The handle was in the shape of a shark’s body, set with four enormous pearls.

  Soop said, “Welcome, little fairy.” The words reverberated strangely in the water.

  Rani caught the word fairy and assumed the rest was a greeting. She couldn’t speak, so she smiled. A curtsy would have been appreciated, but Prilla was the only fairy to know about curtsies.

  Soop pointed out the castle and gardens.

  Rani was running out of air. She extended her arms in an imploring gesture. She pretended to comb her hair and then stretched her arms out again.

  Soop said politely, “Your hair is nice too.”

  Rani had to have air soon. She pretended to take a comb out of her hair and give it to Soop. She hoped Soop would get the hint.

  But Soop just thought the fairy had scratched her head.

  Rani’s face turned red. Soop understood that the fairy needed air. She cupped her hands around Rani and started for the wind room.

  Rani tried to get free. Her lungs were bursting. She hesitated, then kicked Soop’s hand.

  “I’m trying to help, foolish fairy.” Soop swam through the arched entry to the castle.

  Rani couldn’t see through Soop’s fingers, but I’ll tell you what she missed.

  A mermaid swept back and forth on a seaweed swing. Three laughing mermaids chased a Never scurry fish. A merman and a mermaid sang a duet.

  Soop concealed her hands under her scarf. The fairy was her secret.

  Rani’s ears were pounding, and she thought her lungs were going to explode. She kept kicking Soop’s fingers, but her kicks were growing weaker.

  Soop rose to the castle’s second story. Rani kicked once more before losing consciousness.

  “What should we do?” Prilla had started holding her breath when Rani went under, and she’d run out of air at least two minutes ago.

  “Dear child, don’t a
sk me. I’m not the leader.”

  Several more minutes passed.

  Vidia said, “I’m leaving, dear child.”

  “Please don’t go.”

  Vidia started to fly away. “Farewell, dear child.”

  For the first time in her life, Prilla felt rage. “Dear old hag, if Rani gets the comb, the quest will fail because of you.”

  Vidia turned. “Dear child, Rani is dead.”

  “Maybe not. We don’t know what’s down there.”

  “And why will the quest fail because of me?”

  “Because I can’t get a comb and Rani on the carrier by myself.”

  Vidia hadn’t thought of that. She said it was pointless, but she agreed to wait for half an hour.

  Prilla stared down into the water. She thought, Please don’t be dead, Rani.

  In the wind room, Rani lay still in Soop’s hand. Soop wondered if the fairy was dead. There’d be no amusement in a dead fairy. She poked Rani’s stomach. “Wake up, fairy.”

  Rani gagged. Water streamed out of her mouth and nose. She coughed and began to breathe.

  But the stink made her wish she were still unconscious. The wind room reeked of fish!

  Mother Dove had closed her eyes, but Tink didn’t think she was asleep. Mother Dove kept squeezing her eyes shut, and every few minutes a muscle in her cheek jumped.

  It’s pain, Tink thought. She wished she could do something, but there was nothing to do. She started “Fairy Dust Melody” again on her harp. She intended to keep playing it, even though she had blisters on all her fingers. If her fingers gave out, she’d play with her toes.

  Now that she had air, Rani was able to explain her mission.

  Soop could imagine what losing their flight and their magic would mean to the fairies. And she was willing to give away her comb. She had lots of combs.

  But she wanted something in return. “If I give you a present, you must give me a—”

  “—present.” Rani wished she’d brought something with her. “I’ll give you my belt.” It wasn’t much, but it was all she had. It was a fine belt, made of woven beetle hair.

  “Not that. Although it’s very pretty. I want…” What did she want? Hmm...Yes! “I want a magic wand.”

  Oh, no! Rani thought. “Never fairies don’t have magic wands.”

  Soop was puzzled. “Fairies don’t have magic wands?”

  “We don’t. Great Wanded fairies do, and some others.”

  “So you will get me a magic wand from them. I will wait.” She took the comb out of her hair.

  Rani accepted it. They’d worry about the wand later. She thanked Soop and left, pushing the comb ahead of her. Vidia and Prilla probably thought she’d drowned by now. She hoped they were still waiting.

  They were arguing about whether or not half an hour had gone by. Prilla turned a cartwheel when she saw Rani.

  It did take both Prilla and Vidia to lift the comb onto the carrier and help Rani climb in. When they reached shore, they retrieved Rani’s boots and wings.

  At the fairy circle, they loaded the egg and the cigar holder onto the carrier. Rani laid the golden feather in the bottom. She could have left her wings behind, but she wanted them nearby. She sat down in the carrier and cradled them in her arms. Prilla added the loaves of bread that had been placed in the shed for them.

  Vidia said, “Hurry up, dear child. Mustn’t keep a dragon waiting.”

  Prilla picked up the balloon carrier cord and began to fly, pulling Rani and the quest items behind her. She wondered if Kyto could be wicked enough to refuse the things they were bringing him, even if he wanted them. Would he want even more for the animals and Clumsies of Never Land to age and die? Would he want the fairies to run out of fairy dust?

  Could any creature be wicked enough to want Mother Dove to die?

  TWENTY-SIX

  THE BALLOON CARRIER was almost too heavy to fly. It couldn’t rise higher than a few inches, and sometimes it bumped over tree stumps and large rocks.

  The day’s fairy dust ran out soon after the questers crossed the Wough River. Night had fallen, and Rani, who was giving orders quite naturally now, said they’d stop until morning.

  A dusting of snow fell overnight. When Ree saw the snow, she was aghast. The island looked beautiful, but what would happen if two inches fell? Snow would be up to the fairies’ waists. Six inches, and they’d be buried.

  In the underground home, Peter Pan’s blanket was halfway down his chest. He pulled it up and exposed his feet and ankles. He stood, and his head grazed the ceiling. He’d grown seven inches overnight.

  Captain Hook ripped the leg off his stateroom table to use as a cane.

  The Never bear wanted to go fishing, but he couldn’t remember where Havendish Stream was.

  To Tink’s surprise, Mother Dove looked better, less tense around the eyes. She felt better, too. She felt cold and old, but not so ill.

  She sensed that the egg was on its way to Kyto. Her body began to repair itself in anticipation of the egg’s return.

  “I’m hungry.” Mother Dove hadn’t thought she’d ever be hungry again.

  Tink wanted to hug Mother Dove, but she was afraid of hurting her. Instead, she said, “I’ll bring breakfast, lots of breakfast. It’ll be delicious.” She shouted to Nilsa, the scout hovering above them, “I’ll be back soon. With breakfast!”

  Nilsa, who’d eaten only once since the hurricane, yelled, “Good.”

  Tink ran-flew across the open beach, while keeping an eye out for hawks. She hurried to Fairy Haven. She expected to return in no time, but she didn’t realize that, without dust, the kitchen would be very slow.

  When the questers awoke, they found themselves on the edge of a vast prairie. A small triangle on the horizon was Torth Mountain, where Kyto was imprisoned.

  Rani sprinkled only a quarter cup of the final day’s dust on Vidia and Prilla, and none on herself, since she couldn’t fly.

  Vidia was furious. “Give me a full ration, dearie.” She reached out for the satchel.

  “No,” Rani said, backing away. “I’ll sprinkle on more if we run out before we get to Kyto. But if we make it, and he doesn’t fix the egg, we’ll walk home and save—”

  Vidia lunged and got a hand on the satchel. Rani hung on. Prilla jumped up and down, not knowing what to do.

  Rani caught Vidia’s eye and held it. “Ree made me leader, and I won’t let her down.”

  After a tense minute, Vidia let go. “Honey lamb, whatever happens with Kyto, I’ll expect my share of dust. And, my sweet, I’ll get it.”

  An hour went by before Tink left Fairy Haven with breakfast.

  When she reached the beach, a fox was stalking Mother Dove.

  Mother Dove was standing, swaying, and trying to back away.

  Tink dropped the food and raced toward the fox, all the while wondering where that miserable scout Nilsa had gone.

  Mother Dove called to Tink to get away and save herself. Tink yelled at the fox, telling him to leave, warning him not to hurt Mother Dove, promising him something else to eat.

  He was too hungry to listen. He was five yards from Mother Dove.

  She raised her broken wings.

  Tink shouted, “Fly, Mother Dove! Fly!”

  Mother Dove flapped her wings once.

  Tink threw herself onto the fox’s right front leg. He snapped at her, but missed.

  Mother Dove flapped her wings again. The fox advanced a yard.

  Tink climbed up his leg, grasping fistfuls of fur.

  He was three yards from Mother Dove.

  Mother Dove rose an inch into the air.

  Tink was almost at the fox’s shoulder.

  Mother Dove collapsed in the sand. The fox was two yards away. Tink climbed onto his head.

  One yard.

  Tink drew out her dagger.

  He reached Mother Dove.

  Tink heard a snap.

  Mother Dove screamed.

  Tink stuck her legs into the fox’s ear an
d pushed down.

  He yelped and shook his head.

  Tink fell out and down, beating the air with her wings. It was a long drop. She broke a leg, but didn’t feel it.

  The fox leaned down to finish her off. But before he could, she thrust her dagger deep into his neck. She saw blood, and he stumbled away, yowling with pain.

  Mother Dove’s shoulder was bleeding heavily. “Nilsa died...” Mother Dove lost her breath.

  “Why didn’t she fly out of reach?”

  “… of disbelief.”

  The scout had died before the fox had come. It had been terrible for Mother Dove to watch Nilsa’s anguished fading, unable to do a thing.

  Why did I have to go for breakfast? Tink thought.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Mother Dove whispered. “You rescued me.” She tried to hold back a groan, but it got out.

  Tink blamed herself nonetheless.

  And now she was going to leave again, to find Beck, who might know how to stop Mother Dove’s bleeding. She hurried to Fairy Haven, almost at a full run, ignoring her broken leg.

  But while she ran, she wondered if she should have stayed. What if Mother Dove died while she was gone—died all alone?

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TERENCE SPRINKLED enough fairy dust on Beck so she could fly to Mother Dove. A nursing-talent fairy set Tink’s leg while Terence looked on, wincing. Ree questioned Tink about what had happened.

  On the beach, Beck cleaned Mother Dove’s wound with soapy dew and pressed moss into it to staunch the bleeding. The injury was very bad.

  Mother Dove whispered, “Don’t cry, Beck.”

  How could she not cry? She doubted even the egg could save Mother Dove.

  The questers flew along the prairie, through a field of raindrop cactus and by a herd of curly-maned horses. After three hours they reached the hills leading to Torth Mountain. An hour more, and they began to fly over the mountain’s lower slopes. Vidia, in the lead as always, saw smoke coming from one of the caves. Kyto’s cave.

  Tink, limping on crutches, accompanied Ree to the beach to see how Mother Dove was faring.

  Beck just shook her head.

  The questers ran out of dust at noon, with several caves in sight above them. It would take about an hour of flying to reach them.

 

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