Seedling Exams

by Titania Woods

  ‘Come on, let’s hurry!’ She plunged into a dive down the trunk.

  ‘Oh, don’t look so keen,’ grumbled Sooze as she followed. ‘You know he’ll give us minus fifty points if we do anything to upset his precious animals!’

  The Peony Branch fairies swooped through the great double doors and out into the winter sunshine. Twink could see her breath as they flew to the animal infirmary: a large hollow log near the school pond, with cheerful windows down its side. Mr Woodleaf met them at the door.

  ‘Ah . . . hello, girls,’ he muttered. ‘Come this way, please.’

  Twink stared around her as they followed him. The infirmary was filled with different-sized chambers, each with a comfy nest or bed. A poorly-looking rat blinked at her from one, and a chaffinch with a bandaged foot slept in another.

  Mr Woodleaf stopped in the centre of the log. As always, he seemed much more relaxed in the presence of animals, and even managed to smile at them. ‘Now then – you know that fairy magic can be used to heal injured creatures. However, some creatures take longer to recover than others.’

  Twink nodded. She had always felt terribly sorry for those animals that couldn’t be cured quickly.

  ‘All the patients in this infirmary are what we call slow healers,’ continued Mr Woodleaf. ‘Magic has been performed to help them get better, but it will still take a long time for them to recover fully – and to do so, they need good nursing!’

  He motioned to the injured creatures. ‘I’m going to assign each of you to a patient. Your practical will be to take care of it – feed and water it, change its bandages, and keep its spirits up. To pass the practical at the end of term, you’ll need to show me that you can work well with your animal.’

  Twink caught her breath. Oh, how glimmery! She glanced eagerly around her, wondering which animal would be hers – the mouse with the broken tail, maybe, or the glum-looking blue tit.

  ‘Now, Bimi, I’d like you to take care of this dormouse,’ said Mr Woodleaf, indicating a young dormouse with a splint on one leg. He flew to its nest and beckoned Bimi forward. With an excited glance at Twink, Bimi followed him.

  ‘Just wait here until I’ve assigned everyone, please. Sooze, I’d like you to take care of this cricket . . .’

  Twink stood fidgeting as the other fairies were assigned their animals one by one. Mariella got the rat; Sili, the chaffinch; Pix, the blue and yellow tit.

  Oh, I hope I get the mouse! thought Twink. He had such gentle brown eyes and sleek whiskers. And the poor thing looked so sad! She’d love to be his friend and cheer him up.

  ‘Kiki, you’re to take care of this mouse,’ instructed Mr Woodleaf. ‘And Zena, I’d like you to be with the mole . . .’

  Oh. Twink bit her lip. But . . . what was left, in that case?

  ‘Now, Twink.’ Mr Woodleaf flitted back to her. ‘I’d like you to take care of this animal over here – he’s a bit apart from the others.’

  Puzzled, Twink followed Mr Woodleaf to the end of the log, where there was a slight alcove. She stopped short, her eyes widening.

  In the alcove was a nest with a starling in it: a great, hulking bird with untidy speckled brown feathers and a sharp black beak. One of its wings was bound up in a leafy bandage; the other flapped restlessly. Its dark, beady eyes narrowed when it saw her.

  Mr Woodleaf smiled. ‘Since you nursed that wasp last year, I thought you’d like something a bit more challenging,’ he explained. ‘Starlings can be a bit bad-tempered, but I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.’

  .

  .

  ‘Oh,’ said Twink faintly. It was true that she’d taken care of a wasp called Stripe when she was a first-year student – but he had been friendly! This bird was scowling at her as though he hated her already.

  Swallowing hard, Twink put what she hoped was a keen look on her face. ‘Thank you, sir. I’d love to take care of him.’

  ‘Excellent!’ beamed Mr Woodleaf. ‘I’m sure you’ll do a splendid job.’

  He flew back to the centre of the log. ‘Now then!’ he called, clapping his hands. ‘I’d like you all to spend a bit of time getting to know your animals. Why not give them a drink of water and say hello?’

  Twink slowly picked up a walnut-shell bucket full of water that sat on the floor. She could hear the others murmuring friendly greetings to their animals, and the sound of responding squeaks and chirrups.

  ‘Um . . . would you like some water?’ she asked the starling.

  The bird glared at her.

  Twink took a deep breath and flew forward. ‘Nice starling,’ she soothed. ‘That’s right, you’re a nice starling.’

  The bird looked as if he knew she was lying. ‘Squuaawwk,’ he cawed.

  Twink stopped in front of his nest, her pulse thudding as she hovered. She held out the bucket. ‘Here you are,’ she said nervously. ‘Nice water for the nice starling!’

  Without warning, the bird’s beak dived into the bucket. He drank greedily, with loud slurping noises. Twink winced as drops of water flew everywhere, splattering her arms.

  Finally the starling raised his head, smacking his beak.

  Twink tried to smile. ‘Hello!’ she said. ‘I’m Twink. I’m going to be taking care of you.’

  The bird rustled his feathers grumpily and turned away.

  Twink bit her lip. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Bimi sitting beside her dormouse, and Sili stroking her chaffinch’s head. They all looked like they were getting on really well already!

  Shifting the bucket to one hand, Twink flitted a bit closer. ‘I’m sure we’ll be good friends,’ she said hopefully. Very softly, she reached out and stroked the starling’s good wing.

  ‘SQUAAWWKK!’

  The bird exploded into a series of outraged shrieks and wing-flappings that sent Twink and the bucket flying. Suddenly she found herself sprawled on the floor several wingspans away, with her pink hair drenched and the bucket lying upside-down beside her.

  Mr Woodleaf hurried over. ‘Twink! What happened?’

  Water dripped off Twink’s dress as he helped her up. Behind her, the bird was still screeching indignantly. Twink’s cheeks felt on fire. She could see the others all staring at her in concern – except for Mariella, who had an amused smirk on her face!

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly, though one of her wings was throbbing. ‘I startled him a bit, that’s all! And . . . then I fell over.’ She couldn’t let Mr Woodleaf know that she was having problems already – this was her most important practical!

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said her teacher. ‘Well, be sure to move more slowly around him next time, until he gets used to you.’

  .

  .

  Twink nodded vigorously, and Mr Woodleaf left her alone with the starling again. She and the bird looked at each other. He had stopped squawking, but was still glaring at her, his speckled feathers ruffled ominously.

  Twink sighed. She could tell already that it was going to be a very long term.

  .

  Chapter Three

  ‘Dear, oh dear!’ Mrs Hover shook her bright pink head. ‘That is a nasty bruise. How did you say you did it again?’

  ‘I, um – fell over,’ mumbled Twink, feeling hot. She sat perched on one of the mossy beds in the infirmary as the matron rubbed arrowroot salve on her sore wing.

  Saying a quick spell over a pinch of fairy dust, Mrs Hover sprinkled it over the injury. Immediately, the harsh throbbing stopped. ‘There you are, dear – is that better?’ she asked cheerfully.

  .

  .

  Twink stretched her wing, glancing over her shoulder at it. ‘Yes, much, Mrs Hover – thanks!’ she said in relief. She hopped off the bed.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Mrs Hover, putting away the fairy dust. ‘Now, y
ou take it easy for a few days. No high-speed flying for you, my girl!’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ said Twink. She hesitated, biting her lip. ‘Um, Mrs Hover . . . what would you do if – if you had a patient who didn’t like you? I mean – who didn’t like anyone?’

  Mrs Hover looked surprised. ‘Well, I’m glad to say that such patients are few and far between! All of my Glitterwings girls are lovely.’

  ‘But if you did,’ pressed Twink.

  Mrs Hover’s plump face creased in thought. ‘I’d just have to be patient, I suppose. So long as you’re kind and consistent, most folk will come around.’

  ‘Consistent?’ asked Twink anxiously.

  Mrs Hover nodded, smoothing down the bed. ‘That’s right. I’d make sure that I was always very steady and kind, you see – it’s no good being kind one day and snappish the next! Patients have to know that they can trust you. And most of them will, in time.’

  ‘Oh,’ murmured Twink. ‘So . . . you think it just takes time?’

  Mrs Hover gave her a keen look. ‘Is everything all right, my dear?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ said Twink. She smiled. ‘I’ve got to go now, Mrs Hover – but thanks!’

  Flying back to Peony Branch, Twink realised that Mrs Hover was right. It had been daft of her to try to be the starling’s friend instantly – they were bad-tempered birds, like Mr Woodleaf had said. It would take time to make him like her.

  ‘I’ve just got to be patient,’ she muttered. She would win the starling over, and show Mr Woodleaf that she could work well with any animal there was! After all, animals always loved her parents . . . surely she’d inherited just a little of their skill?

  After dinner the next evening, Twink and Bimi borrowed a glow-worm lantern from the supplies branch and flew down to the animal infirmary. The light from their lantern gleamed brightly on the snowy ground, showing the way.

  Bimi had hardly stopped talking about her dormouse all day. ‘He’s so cute,’ she enthused now as they flew along. ‘And his fur’s so soft! I’ve got a thistle comb in my bag, and I’m going to see if he’ll let me groom him tonight.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ said Twink. She hoped her smile didn’t look half-hearted. She was very pleased for Bimi, but she wasn’t really in the mood to hear how wonderful her dormouse was.

  .

  .

  ‘Well, he’s a bit nervous,’ said Bimi thoughtfully. ‘I’m hoping that he’ll relax soon.’

  ‘I’m sure he will.’ Twink gazed towards the infirmary, wondering what sort of reception she was going to get from the starling. Would he be even grumpier than before?

  Suddenly Bimi seemed to realise that Twink might not be feeling as eager as she was. A guilty flush lit her face. ‘Oh, Twink, I’m sorry! What about your starling? Are you nervous about seeing him again?’ Twink had sheepishly told her friend what had really happened.

  ‘A little,’ she confessed as they landed. ‘But I’ll win him over, you’ll see! This is one practical I’ve got to do well in.’

  They pushed the door open. Pix was already there, and waved to them across the log.

  ‘Look, I’ve got my bird eating out of my hand!’ she called happily. ‘You love poppy seeds, don’t you?’ she crooned to the blue and yellow bird, reaching up to stroke its neck.

  ‘Great,’ said Twink, forcing a smile. She glanced down the length of the infirmary. The alcove hid the starling from her, but she knew he was in there, crouched in his untidy nest.

  Not wanting to admit to herself that she was stalling, Twink drifted over to Bimi’s dormouse, exclaiming with her friend over his sleek fur and sensitive, twitching nose.

  ‘He’s lovely, Bimi,’ she said sincerely, stroking his round ear.

  ‘I know.’ Bimi’s cheeks were pink with excitement as she combed the dormouse’s fur. He sighed happily, his eyes half closing in bliss.

  Finally Twink could put it off no longer. Straightening her shoulders, she flitted down the log.

  The starling seemed just as grimy and ill-tempered as the day before. He stared coldly at her, looking as if he had been expecting her to come back, just to irritate him.

  ‘Hi,’ said Twink. She stretched her mouth into a cheerful smile. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to startle you.’

  The starling’s eyes narrowed. ‘Squaawwkk,’ he said. It didn’t sound like an apology.

  ‘Are you thirsty?’ asked Twink. ‘Or would you like something to eat?’

  The bird accepted both food and water, but hardly looked at Twink as his beak pecked at the buckets. When he had finished, he glared at her and tucked his head under his good wing.

  Kind and consistent! thought Twink. ‘Why don’t I sing you to sleep?’ she suggested. The bird didn’t respond. Clearing her throat, Twink began to sing a soft fairy lullaby.

  .

  ‘Fluttering fairy,

  Been flying so long,

  When the moon shows,

  It’s time for this song.

  Your mossy bed’s calling,

  Your wings feeling tired,

  Come creep into bed,

  For it’s time to – oh!’

  .

  Twink darted backwards as the bird swiped at her with his good wing, only just missing her this time. With a pointed stare, he shuffled about in his nest so that his back was to her, and shoved his head under his wing again.

  Twink bit her lip. ‘I . . . suppose you don’t like music, then.’

  The bird ignored her. Twink gathered up the food and water buckets with a sigh. Never mind, she thought. It was going to take time, that was all. She’d just have to try again tomorrow.

  But the next day came, and was no different – and the next day, and the next. After a week with no success, Twink flew glumly to the wood one afternoon to work on her Flower Power practical. It wasn’t easy to put Creature Kindness out of her head, but she knew she had to – or else she wouldn’t pass any of her other practicals, either!

  ‘Choose a young tree,’ she murmured, looking around her. There, that one would do: a slender birch sapling with slim, snowy-white branches.

  She leaned against its trunk and frowned uncertainly. Imagine being part of the tree, Miss Petal had said – but how did you do that? She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  I’m part of the tree, she thought. Part of the tree . . .

  The world around her seemed to fade. Twink pictured herself inside the tree’s roots, plunging deep into the ground. Then she was going upwards, flowing with the sap that moved through the tree’s trunk and limbs. Finally she became its branches, reaching up towards the grey sky . . .

  Hello! said a friendly voice in her mind. An image of a tall, slim girl dressed in shimmering white popped into Twink’s head.

  ‘Oh!’ gasped Twink, her eyes flying open.

  What’s wrong? Don’t you want to talk to me? asked the girl.

  Um . . . yes! thought Twink in a daze. Are you the tree’s dryad?

  Of course! laughed the girl. I’m called Sheena. Who are you?

  I’m Twink Flutterby, thought Twink. I go to school at Glitterwings Academy.

  Her heart was thumping so hard that she barely heard Sheena’s response. She was actually talking with a dryad – a real dryad! And she could see her so clearly: a snowy-pale, slender girl with shining green eyes and long leafy hair.

  I’m glad I don’t have to go to school, giggled Sheena, propping her chin on her hand. Being a dryad is much more fun!

  .

  .

  Oh, but school can be fun, too, answered Twink eagerly. We do all sorts of things.

  She and the dryad chatted for ages. Twink learned that Sheena was three years old, and that she loved to feel the moonlight on her hair. Sheena, in turn, was fascin
ated by Twink’s description of her family and home.

  Finally Twink glanced at the setting sun, and realised with a start what time it was. I’ve got to go! she thought, jumping up. It’s been glimmery talking to you, Sheena.

  Come and visit me again, said Sheena, blowing her a kiss from a pale hand.

  I will! promised Twink. She skimmed back to school with a wide grin on her face. Well, at least that was one practical she had sorted!

  .

  Chapter Four

  ‘Not bad,’ said Miss Sparkle, surveying Twink’s latest effort: a rose dress with one sleeve longer than the other.

  Twink smiled ruefully. ‘I wouldn’t want to wear it, though.’ She tossed a pinch of fairy dust on the dress. With a shimmer of pink and gold, it changed back into a rosebud.

  ‘Look at mine,’ groaned Bimi, holding up a lopsided blue dress. ‘But I suppose it’s better than last time,’ she added. ‘That one didn’t even have any wing openings!’

  Miss Sparkle gave them one of her dry smiles. ‘Just keep practising, girls. You’ll get there.’

  She moved across the branch, stopping to examine Kiki’s work. ‘Very good!’ she exclaimed, holding up a bright purple dress with pink sleeves. ‘But then, you knew this spell already, didn’t you?’

  Kiki nodded. ‘I learned it from my mother. But it’s still fun to practise; I’ve worked out all sorts of new things this term.’

  Twink gazed at the dress in admiration. Kiki was so clever at this sort of thing. She’d even made all the dresses for the second-year fashion show the term before – including a truly unique one for Twink that she’d hated at first!

  ‘Well done,’ said Miss Sparkle, handing Kiki her dress back. Then she shook her head as she caught sight of Mariella’s dress: a drooping, sad-looking thing with bits of petal falling off it.

  ‘You really must work harder, Mariella,’ she scolded. ‘I would have expected you to be doing much better by now!’

  Mariella looked sulky. ‘It’s not like we have any time this term,’ she muttered, shoving the dress away.