.
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‘Well, the others are managing,’ said Miss Sparkle sternly. ‘I suggest you use your time a bit more wisely.’ She clapped her hands. ‘Class is almost over, everyone – put your things away.’
Twink closed the bark box that her fairy dust was kept in, and placed it in the classroom cupboard. Maybe she was no Kiki, but she really had improved, she realised. The first time she’d tried the spell, her dress had fallen to bits!
They were almost halfway through the term now, and most of Twink’s other practicals were going well, too: she had finally managed to create a few drifting snowflakes in Weather Magic, and the complicated steps for Dance class were already half memorised.
Those weren’t the best things, though, thought Twink as she shut the cupboard door. She felt a warm glow whenever she thought about her Flower Power practical.
In the past few weeks, Twink had returned to chat with Sheena often. She had tried other trees, too, and soon found herself having conversations with dryads of all shapes and sizes: a vain young male dryad from a chestnut tree; a gloomy pine dryad with green hair and a long face; a tall, motherly spruce dryad. There were so many of them that it made Twink’s head spin!
Her smile faded as the magpie’s call rang through the school. She sighed, and slung her petal bag over her shoulder.
‘Is everything all right?’ asked Bimi as they flitted from the branch. They joined the busy stream of fairies flying down towards the Great Branch for lunch.
Twink nodded. ‘Just thinking about something, that’s all.’
There was no point in going on about it; Bimi had heard it many times before. Maybe she was doing well in Flower Power, but what good was that going to do her? It wouldn’t help her pass her Creature Kindness practical . . . and the starling still hated her.
‘Would you like me to groom your feathers?’ suggested Twink wearily. She knew already what the answer would be: a grumpy squawk, or a glare, or a wing swiped at her chest.
This time, though, the bird made no response at all. He sat crouched in his nest, staring out of the window at the nearby wood. For the first time since Twink had met him, she thought he looked sad instead of angry.
She hesitated. ‘Are . . . are you homesick?’ she asked finally.
The starling didn’t respond. His broken wing still hung awkwardly, despite the daily care that Twink gave it. Mr Woodleaf had said it would be weeks yet before the bird was well – and had warned her that starlings got very restless when they were healing.
‘They hate being cooped up indoors,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘They’ve even been known to try to leave before they can fly again. You’ll have to work very hard to keep his mind off things.’
To Twink’s surprise, she felt a stab of sympathy for the starling. It must be awful to be shut up inside when you were used to trees and fresh air. She started to touch his good wing, and then pulled back quickly. She wasn’t going to try that again.
Twink cleared her throat. ‘I know it’s awful to feel homesick,’ she said. ‘But I’ll be your friend, if you let me. Please?’ She looked earnestly into his eyes, trying to show how sincere she was.
‘Squaawk!’ snapped the starling.
With a flap of his good wing, he knocked over the seed bucket. His beak seemed to curl in a sneer. His meaning was just as clear as if he’d said, Starlings are only friends with other starlings! Back off!
Tears pricked at Twink’s eyes as she swept up the seeds. She’d only been trying to help! Why did he have to be so nasty all the time? She banged the bucket back into place, and left without saying goodbye.
‘It’s hopeless,’ she said gloomily as she, Bimi and Sooze flew back to school. ‘The term’s half over, and nothing I do makes any difference!’
‘He’s a nightmare, all right,’ said Sooze. ‘I’m glad you got him instead of me.’
‘Thanks a lot,’ muttered Twink. Sooze’s cricket was as cheerful a creature as the others. Her biggest problem was in making sure he didn’t jump about before his leg was healed!
Sooze shrugged, looking tired. ‘Sorry – but honestly, Opposite, what can we do about it? Anyway, I’ve got to hurry, or I’ll be late for my study session. See you.’ She skimmed off in a flash of pink wings, disappearing through the doors of the school.
Sooze was always studying these days, thought Twink. The lavender-haired fairy was so worried about passing her exams! She had bags under her eyes from working so hard, and hadn’t laughed in ages.
With a sigh, Twink returned to her own problems. ‘Bimi, you’re getting on so well with your dormouse,’ she said, banking to avoid a frozen spiderweb. ‘Do you have any ideas about what I can do? I’ll try anything!’
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Her best friend didn’t answer. Twink glanced at her in surprise. Bimi was flying along slowly, a distracted frown on her face. ‘Bimi? What’s up?’ asked Twink.
Bimi started. ‘Oh – nothing! Um . . . maybe you should ask Mr Woodleaf for advice.’
They had reached the school by then. Twink hovered beside the front doors. ‘But then he’d realise how badly I’m doing! I’ve got to find a way to get on with the starling by the end of term, or I won’t pass the practical.’
‘Oh, that’s right,’ said Bimi, nodding quickly. ‘I don’t know, then. Maybe the library?’
Twink stared at her. Somehow she had the feeling that her best friend’s mind was somewhere else entirely! ‘Bimi, is something wrong?’
The pretty fairy’s cheeks flushed bright pink. ‘No, of course not! I was just – thinking of something. I’ve forgotten what now,’ she added hastily. ‘It wasn’t important.’ And just like Sooze, she jetted off into school.
The Glitterwings library was a tall, arching space with towering shelves that scraped the ceiling. High overhead, fairies flitted about from shelf to shelf. Snow dropped softly on the windows.
Twink sat at one of the mushroom desks, a pile of books at her elbow. She slumped her cheek on her hand as she read.
Starlings are known to be bad-tempered birds, remarkably resistant to any sort of kindness. It is recommended that fairies leave them to themselves where possible. Tits, on the other wing, are lovely creatures, which –
Twink groaned and shoved The Fairy’s Guide to Woodland Friends away. Yes, starlings were bad-tempered; what a surprise! What she needed to know was how to win one over – and none of the books seemed to have any advice on that at all, though she’d spent the last few days going through every one she could find.
Twink reached for the last book in her pile: A Compendium of Non-Magical Birds. She flipped through it, and sighed as she started to read. Why was she bothering? It was just going to say again how bad-tempered starlings were!
Suddenly Twink sat up straight, wings tingling. She read through the entry again, her finger skimming quickly across the page.
Starlings are unfriendly birds, known to hold a grudge. While most authorities maintain that their ill temper is too ingrained to overcome, Horace Cloudwing is adamant that an offering of hazelnuts will sweeten their nature, this being a favourite treat of the bird.
‘Hazelnuts,’ breathed Twink, as she gazed down at the words. Oh, this was it! This might really work!
Then she looked out of the window at the snow-covered branches, and bit her lip. Where would she find some at this time of year, though? The ground outside was hard and frozen.
And was there even a hazel tree in the wood? Twink couldn’t recall seeing one. Still, maybe the dryads would have some ideas . . .
Lost in thought, Twink gathered up her books and flew upwards to the Creature Kindness section. As she slotted her books back into place, she glanced down – and her eyes widened.
A fairy with silver and gold wings sat alone in a shadowy corner, surrounded by b
ooks. Bimi! But what was she doing here on her own? The two of them always studied together in the Common Branch.
Twink started to swoop down to say hello to her friend . . . but then she hesitated. Bimi really didn’t look as if she wanted to be disturbed. In fact, she looked as if she were trying to hide!
Twink flew slowly from the library. She’s just studying in here where it’s quiet, that’s all, she told herself doubtfully. But that didn’t make sense – it was quiet in the second-year Common Branch, now that the written exams were coming up. And then Twink remembered how Bimi had got so flustered outside the school the other day.
Twink frowned as she spiralled slowly up the trunk. Something was definitely up with her best friend . . . and she had no idea what.
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Chapter Five
Twink sat on the frozen ground with her eyes closed, leaning against the trunk of a hazel tree. Are you in there? she thought for the hundredth time. Please come out and talk to me! I need to ask you something!
Though she could feel the tree clearly in her mind – the ancient roots, the trunk, the twisted branches – there was no sign of its dryad at all.
It must be a very old one, thought Twink, giving up for the moment and stretching her wings. The other dryads she’d spoken to had hardly taken any time at all to respond, even if they hadn’t been able to help her.
‘A hazel tree?’ Sheena’s pale brow had furrowed. ‘Well . . . there’s a pine tree over there,’ she’d said, pointing. ‘And an oak there . . .’
The other dryads had been the same, and Twink realised glumly that they only knew about those trees near their own. So for the last few weeks, she’d used all of her of spare time to search for a hazel tree herself. She’d almost been ready to give up when she finally found one, deep in the heart of the wood – and now its dryad refused to talk to her!
Taking a deep breath, Twink rested against the tree and tried again. Hello, are you there? she called. I need to talk to you! Please come out, it’s really important!
Oh, DO be quiet! groaned an elderly voice. The image of an old man with a long, twiggy beard popped into Twink’s head. He was leaning on a knotty stick, rubbing his eyes.
Twink jerked upright. Hello! she cried, her wings fluttering eagerly. I’ve been trying and trying to reach you!
Yes, I know! said the old man. He banged his stick on the ground. How am I supposed to sleep, with you wittering away?
I’ll stop as soon as you answer a question, promised Twink. Where can I find some hazelnuts?
Right here, of course – in about nine months! snapped the dryad. Now go away!
No, I need them now! said Twink. I’m trying to make friends with a starling, you see, and –
Starlings – hmph! Nasty birds, grumbled the old man. He seemed a bit less cross, though, and narrowed his eyes in thought. Well, you might try one of the squirrel’s winter hoards. There’s one just at my base, under that root. He pointed his stick to a curved, knobbly root.
Twink hesitated. But won’t he need them?
The dryad gave a dry, rasping laugh, like the wind rustling through bare branches. Not him! He always stores twice as many nuts as he needs, and then forgets where he’s hidden them. You help yourself, young fairy; he won’t miss them. And now, if you’ll excuse me – goodnight!
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With a face-cracking yawn, the old man waved his stick at her and vanished. Twink sat smiling for a moment, amazed that she had actually roused the dryad. Finally, still smiling, she flitted over to the root and started to dig.
‘Well – here they are,’ said Twink.
She showed Bimi and Pix a bark platter with nine hazelnuts arranged across it. ‘What do you think? Do they look nice?’ She glanced anxiously at the nuts. How she wished that the squirrel had hidden more than nine!
‘They look wonderful!’ said Pix. ‘He’s going to be thrilled, Twink.’
The red-haired fairy’s eyes were shining. All of Peony Branch knew what an awful time Twink was having with her starling, and everyone sympathised – apart from Mariella, who wasn’t getting on particularly well with her rat, either.
Twink gazed towards the starling’s alcove and straightened her wings. ‘So . . . here goes.’
‘Good luck!’ Bimi squeezed her arm, and Twink smiled gratefully at her. Regardless of whatever was bothering Bimi, Twink knew her best friend was as excited and nervous as she was.
Twink flitted down the length of the hollow log, carefully balancing the platter. When she reached the alcove she briefly shut her eyes. Oh, please, please work! she thought. I’ve tried everything else!
Putting a bright, welcoming smile on her face, Twink rounded the corner. ‘Hello!’ she said.
The starling, who had been staring restlessly out of the window, turned and gave her a sulky look. He was obviously tired of being ill, thought Twink. She didn’t blame him. She was tired of him being ill, as well!
‘Look, I brought you a surprise.’ She held the platter out enticingly.
The starling’s eyes widened when he saw the nuts. He stared at them, and then at her.
Twink flew slowly forward, until she was hovering in front of him. ‘I know how much starlings love hazelnuts, so I got you some,’ she said. ‘Here – would you like them?’ She held the platter out, her heart pounding.
Without warning, the starling lunged at the nuts. Peck, peck, peck! The platter shuddered as he snapped them up, one after the other. When he had finished, he raised his head and gazed thoughtfully at her.
Twink swallowed hard. ‘I really want to work well with you, like Mr Woodleaf said,’ she whispered. ‘Do you think we can be friends?’ Hope pounded through her veins. She held her breath, not daring to say more.
The starling didn’t move as he stared back at her. For a moment he looked as if he were considering it, and Twink’s spirits soared . . . and then he huffed out a breath and turned his back on her.
Oh! Twink hovered in a daze, hardly able to believe it. It hadn’t worked. All those weeks she had spent searching for the nuts! She had hoped so much, tried so hard . . . and none of it made any difference.
Sudden tears almost blinded her. Dropping the platter, Twink flew clumsily from the alcove. She couldn’t face her friends now, she just couldn’t! There was a back door to the infirmary, rarely used. Shoving it open, Twink flew away as fast as she could, skimming over the frozen grass.
As though her wings knew exactly where to take her, she flew straight to the abandoned caretaker’s stump, where she had sheltered Stripe the wasp the previous year. Ducking through the weather-beaten entrance, Twink flitted to the mossy bed and flung herself on it, hugging the pillow.
It felt wonderful to cry after holding in her feelings for so long. Finally, when the pillow was damp with tears, Twink sniffed and sat up, wiping her eyes. She smiled slightly. Oh, she had so many happy memories of this place! She and Stripe had become friends here while she healed his broken wing.
Twink’s own wings felt leaden now as she thought of it. She had been so sure then that being a Fairy Medic was what she was meant to do. She’d never dreamed that she might not even pass her Creature Kindness practical.
‘Hi,’ said a voice. Glancing up, Twink saw Bimi hovering in the doorway. ‘Are you OK?’ her friend asked gently.
Twink tried to smile. Bimi swooped over and sat down beside her on the bed. Neither fairy spoke for a moment.
‘Well . . . at least now we know that Horace Cloudwing was a total moss brain,’ said Bimi finally, rubbing her wing against Twink’s.
Laughter burst out of Twink despite herself. The more she laughed, the funnier it seemed. Bimi started laughing too, until suddenly the pair of them were lying back on the bed, kicking their heels.
‘Yes!’ gasped Twink. ‘We should wri
te and tell him so!’
‘Dear Mr Cloudwing – hazelnuts are rubbish!’ cried Bimi.
After a while their laughter faded, and the two girls lay quietly on the bed, side by side.
‘Bimi, what will I do if I don’t pass?’ said Twink, staring at the ceiling. ‘Being a Fairy Medic is all I’ve ever wanted to do.’
Bimi sighed. ‘Oh, Twink . . . I really think you should talk to Mr Woodleaf. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.’
‘It is, though – I should be doing a lot better than this!’ Twink sat up. ‘I can’t let him know how rubbish I am, Bimi. I’ve got to find a way to make friends with the starling.’
There was silence for a moment. Bimi sat up as well, tracing a pattern on the worn petal duvet. ‘Twink . . . can I tell you something?’
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Twink’s eyes widened. ‘Of course! You can tell me anything, you know that.’
Taking a deep breath, Bimi blurted out, ‘It’s just that – well – I want to try to take advanced Creature Kindness next year, too.’
Twink gaped at her. ‘You mean . . . you want to be a Fairy Medic?’ she said in amazement.
Bimi’s cheeks blazed red. ‘I know I’m probably not clever enough. I – I’ve been studying on my own because I haven’t wanted to tell anyone; I was afraid you’d all laugh . . .’
‘Don’t be daft!’ cried Twink, nudging her. ‘I just thought you wanted to be a model, that’s all.’ The term before, Bimi had been a huge hit in the Second Year’s fairy fashion show, and Twink had assumed that her friend would want to continue modelling.
Bimi looked horrified. ‘A model? The fashion show was just a bit of fun! No, I – I always sort of thought I’d like to be a Fairy Medic, but . . .’ she trailed off.
Twink brushed her wing against Bimi’s. ‘Go on! What were you going to say?’
‘I do so badly in exams, that’s what.’ Bimi scuffed at the floor with her toe. ‘Twink, it’s what I really, really want to do – but how will I ever score high enough in the written exam?’
Seedling Exams Page 3