“You’re right.” Prilla gulped. They hadn’t seen Lily in ages. Something must be wrong!
Prilla had learned a lot of things living in the Home Tree. One of them was the fastest way down a circular staircase. She dropped to her backside and began sliding down the vine.
“Lily!” she shouted. “Lily, where are you?”
Beck came behind her. “Lily!” she yelled. “Lily, we’re coming!”
WHERE WAS LILY? Where? At every knothole, Prilla and Beck screeched to a stop and stuck their heads inside. They startled a family of squirrels, a sleeping owl, and a colony of spiders. But they saw no sign of Lily.
Then they heard a distant cry. “Help! Help!”
“Come on, let’s fly!” Beck told Prilla. The two fairies left the vine and flew around the tree until they finally saw Lily. She was pinned under a fallen branch. The twigs made a little cage that held her fast.
Prilla and Beck flew to the branch and tried to move it. It was too heavy. They tried to snap the twigs. Even the smallest one was too thick.
“What happened?” Beck asked. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. But I’m stuck,” answered Lily. “I was watching the squirrels in this tree playing. When they jumped from one branch to the other, this branch broke off and fell on me.”
“We’ll have to use our fairy dust to help us move it,” Beck said.
“No, we’ll need every speck of dust we have to get home,” Lily protested.
Fairies needed dust to fly and do magic. But Beck, Prilla, and Lily only had the dust on their wings. They’d left Pixie Hollow in such a hurry that they hadn’t thought to bring extra fairy dust.
“There has to be a better way,” Lily said.
Suddenly, a loud noise startled them all. Ratatatatata ratatatatata ratatatatata!
“It’s a woodpecker!” Beck cried. “I’ll go get him. He can break up this branch in seconds.”
“Wait!” Prilla stopped her. “There are lots of animals in this tree. What if one of them tries to get Lily? She can’t fly away. You might be able to talk an animal out of it. But I couldn’t.”
“What else can we do?” Beck asked.
“I can’t talk to the woodpecker. But maybe I could lead him here and you could talk to him,” Prilla said.
“I have an idea,” Beck said. “Lily, can you reach your shears?”
“Yes. Here.” Lily gave Beck the shears.
“Listen to this pattern,” Beck said to Prilla. “It’s Woodpecker for Help! Follow me!” Beck tapped the shears on the tree.
Beck handed Prilla the shears. “Now you try it.”
Prilla banged the shears on the bark.
Beck grinned. “Perfect! Now go find the woodpecker and bring him back. You may have a hard time getting his attention, though. Woodpeckers are not good listeners. Their heads are harder than tree trunks.”
“I’ll find a way,” Prilla promised.
She took off into the forest, trying to follow the woodpecker’s sound. It was hard to figure out where it was coming from because of the forest echo.
At last, Prilla spotted the woodpecker’s red head. He held on to the side of a tree with his toes and pecked furiously against the trunk. Ratatatatata ratatatatata ratatatatata ratatatatata!
Prilla fluttered around him and waved her arms, trying to attract his attention. But the woodpecker never missed a beat. He didn’t even seem to know that she was there. Ratatatatata ratatatatata ratatatatata ratatatatata!
Finally, Prilla plucked a small pine- cone from a branch and threw it as hard as she could. The pinecone smacked the woodpecker on the back of his hard head.
The woodpecker whipped around to see who, or what, had just hit him. When he saw Prilla, he cocked his head to one side and stared at her with a hurt expression. His face seemed to say, Why did you hit me? What did I ever do to you?
Prilla took the shears and tapped them on the tree trunk exactly the way Beck had shown her.
The woodpecker cocked his head the other way in surprise.
Prilla tapped the shears again and repeated her call for help. She hoped she was tapping the right thing. What if she got it wrong? Maybe she was tapping Eat me instead of Follow me!
Then the woodpecker spread his wings. She had given him the right message!
But when Prilla turned to go, she paused. Her eyes darted from one large tree trunk to another. They all looked the same.
Oh, no! She couldn’t remember which tree Lily and Beck were in!
THE WOODPECKER LOOKED at Prilla. Prilla looked at the trees. They all seemed exactly alike!
How does Lily tell one silly plant from another? Prilla wondered.
She gave the woodpecker a weak smile. He cocked his head to the side. Prilla hovered in the air, then started flying toward one tree. The woodpecker was right behind her. She flew more and more slowly.
Then Prilla heard a far-off sound. Ratatatatata ratatatatata ratatatatata ratatatatata!
Prilla recognized the sound and the message. It was Beck. She was tapping out her own cry for help. If Prilla could hear it, that meant they were close.
The woodpecker heard it, too. He peeled off and zoomed away toward the sound.
This time, Prilla followed him. It was hard to keep up, but the patch of red on his head made him easy to spot. The woodpecker reached the tree before Prilla.
By the time she got there, Beck was explaining the situation. The woodpecker went to work. Within moments, the branch was in splinters and Lily was free.
“Good job!” Beck told Prilla.
“Come on,” Lily urged. “We’ve got to get moving. The sun will be going down soon.”
The woodpecker continued pecking along the branch where Lily had been trapped. He had lost interest in the fairies. Now he was busy looking for bugs.
“Should we ask him if he’s seen the mysterious stranger?” Beck asked.
Prilla shook her head. “No. You probably would have to hit him on the head with a pinecone like I did. And this time, he might not be so nice about it.”
They were getting close to the canopy. The day was almost over. The few remaining rays of sunlight that filtered down through the branches were shifting. Still, the fairies kept climbing.
Finally, they found themselves in a strange place. All around them was lush, thick plant life. It was greener and damper than any garden they had ever seen. Big, waxy leaves sprouted huge red and yellow flowers.
Lily sighed happily. “This is it,” she told the others. “We’re in the canopy. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Prilla didn’t think so. This place might seem wonderful to a garden-talent fairy, but to Prilla, it felt too crowded. The leaves, flowers, and vines grew so thick, they almost blocked out all the sunlight. She liked blue sky and open spaces better.
Beck seemed to feel the same way. “This is even worse than the forest floor,” she protested. “It’s like a jungle. We can’t see a thing. How are we going to find the tallest tree?”
“Easy,” Lily said. “Follow me.” Lily ran through the wide tree branches. With grace and ease, she hopped from one leaf to the next. “Watch out,” she said, pointing to a vine. “That one’s poisonous.”
Prilla followed her, trying not to slip. The air was cool. Moist bits of cloud trailed past her cheeks. Little by little, Lily’s happiness rubbed off on Prilla. The forest canopy started to seem like an amazing place. It was so wild and untouched.
Finally, Lily came to a stop. She looked around, and then she spoke. “This is it. This is the tallest tree. If we can get to the top of this tree, we’ll be able to see for miles. And we’ll surely find Queen Clarion if she’s here.”
“How do you know it’s the tallest tree?” Beck asked.
“Trust me,” Lily said with a confident smile. She pointed to the strange plants that grew along the trunk of the tree and on its branches. “Look at that orchid. See how it holds up its head? See how that mushroom leans back and looks up? All the plants here stand straight and true—just like
Queen Clarion’s attendants. These plants know they’re part of the tallest tree. And they’re proud of that.”
Prilla looked at the plants and chuckled. “Lily’s right. They do remind me of Lisel, Grace, Cinda, and Rhia.”
“I’m sure this is the tallest tree,” Lily insisted. “Now let’s go!”
Prilla opened her wings. Soon they were all flying straight up.
The winds were strong up here. The treetops swayed back and forth. Just as the fairies were reaching the very limits of their strength, they saw her. Queen Clarion!
She sat on the uppermost branch of the tree. A large silver weather kite was wedged into the branches next to her.
Above her, gliding in a circle, was the huge bird that Prilla had seen that morning.
Beck let out an angry yell. Lily gasped.
Queen Clarion turned at the sound of their voices. When she saw them, her eyes lit up.
“What a surprise! How in the world did you get here?” she asked.
All the joy Prilla had felt in finding Queen Clarion had evaporated. Now she felt pure, sheer terror.
“Your Majesty!” Lily screamed. “Be careful. You are in grave danger.”
“Because of this?” Queen Clarion opened her hand and held it out to show them what was in her palm—a small, perfectly formed heart-shaped seed. Its scent perfumed the air. The smell was so sweet, Prilla’s head reeled.
The bird was right over Queen Clarion now. He opened his pointed beak.
“NO!” Prilla, Lily, and Beck all shouted. “NO!”
PRILLA WATCHED IN horror as the enormous bird bore down on the queen. But instead of scooping her up and carrying her away, he hovered for only a moment.
Gently, he took the heart seed from her palm.
The bird dipped his head, as if in thanks. Then he beat his wings against the air and took to the sky. Soon he was gliding away on the same gusty winds that had carried them all to the High Tree Forest.
Prilla, Lily, and Beck hurried to Queen Clarion’s side. They had to hold tight to the leaves and branches to keep from being blown away.
Queen Clarion invited them all to sit beside her. “I suppose you would like to know why I came here with Mother Dove’s heart seed,” she said.
It was late in the day, and the sun was just beginning to set. Pools of pink and orange streaked the sky. Prilla was happy just to sit and enjoy the lovely sound of Queen Clarion’s voice.
“That was the Sky Bird,” the queen explained. “He is Mother Dove’s oldest and dearest friend. Long ago, before Mother Dove got her magic, they flew together in these skies.”
Queen Clarion went on, “But now, because of her egg, Mother Dove is bound to the earth and to her nest. Because he is so large, the Sky Bird cannot land on the ground. If he did, he might never become airborne again. So he must always fly high and live among the cliffs, where the winds are constant and strong.”
“But I saw him this morning,” Prilla said. “Above Pixie Hollow.”
Queen Clarion nodded. “Every few years, a strong wind blows over Never Land. A wind strong enough to carry the Sky Bird close to Pixie Hollow. When that happens, the Sky Bird and Mother Dove trade greetings and gifts. Because Mother Dove can’t fly, and the Sky Bird can’t land, I am the go-between. Mother Dove sensed that the wind was coming, and she asked me to bring her gift to the Sky Bird.”
“Did the Sky Bird have a gift for Mother Dove?” Lily asked.
Queen Clarion showed them a small fruit that shimmered like mother-of-pearl. She invited them each to touch it. The fruit was smooth as a plum and cold as an icicle.
“It’s a fruit that grows only on the ice-cold windy cliffs of the Sky Bird’s home,” Queen Clarion explained.
“I don’t understand,” Beck said. “Why didn’t Mother Dove tell us? We could have helped you.”
Queen Clarion stood and unwound the kite tail from the branch. “Because fairies love to fly more than anything. Mother Dove knows it would be hard for them to believe that a bird who once soared could be happy anywhere but the sky. Mother Dove doesn’t want you to worry that she’s unhappy—because she’s not.”
The fairies were silent, thinking about Mother Dove and the Sky Bird.
“It’s almost time for me to take Mother Dove her dinner,” Beck said at last.
“We should be going now,” the queen said, nodding. “The wind has shifted direction. With a little fairy dust, we’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Queen Clarion showered the kite with the twinkling fairy dust. The flickering mica on the kite began to glow.
“Everyone hang on,” she told the others. Each fairy grabbed a knot on the tail.
Queen Clarion gave a yank and freed the kite from its wedge.
WHOOSH!
The powerful wind grabbed the kite as if it were being snatched up by a tornado.
Prilla hung on for dear life. But once again she wouldn’t shut her eyes. She didn’t want to miss a single thing!
The fairy dust helped the kite chart its course back toward Pixie Hollow. Soon they were moving through the air in a smooth line. They passed through clouds made of sunset colors. Around them, the sky was stained orange, pink, and purple.
Prilla swayed on the kite tail. She felt like a queen herself—the queen of the world! There was no better way to fly than on a sparkly kite.
Prilla looked at the faces of her friends. Was Lily sad to be leaving the wondrous plants in the High Tree Forest? Maybe, but Prilla knew that she also missed her own garden back in Pixie Hollow. Lily would be glad to be home in time to water her plants before night.
Beck had a little smile on her face. Prilla guessed she was pleased that Mother Dove would get a gift that would make her so happy.
And the queen…?
Well, it was hard to know what the queen was thinking.
Queens are not like the rest of us. They must be wise and gracious. They must be generous and kind. They must be brave, but also cautious. They must solve everyone’s problems and keep everyone’s secrets.
Most of all, they must keep their thoughts to themselves. So we cannot know what Queen Clarion was thinking.
Perhaps she was thinking it was a wonderful thing to be queen. Or perhaps not.
Only Queen Clarion knows.
MYKA WOKE WITH a start. She leaped from her bed and landed lightly on her toes. Some sort of noise had just echoed through Pixie Hollow. It could mean trouble. Fully alert, she darted to her bedroom window.
Myka’s room was in the uppermost branch of the Home Tree. A knothole window stretched from floor to ceiling along an entire wall.
Myka slipped her sea-glass binoculars from the peg by her bed. Then she gazed out the window. Not one leaf rustled. Not one moth beat its wings.
But while she’d been sleeping, she had heard a noise. She was certain of it. The noise had made her toes tingle. But now…now…the air was still. In the darkness before sunrise, even the birds and crickets were silent.
Yet her instincts told her something was wrong.
Myka was a scouting-talent fairy. Her job was to warn other fairies of danger. She kept on guard for hawks and owls and other animals that preyed on fairies. She sniffed for out-of-control fires on the far side of Never Land. And she listened for angry wasps buzzing near Havendish Stream. All five of Myka’s senses were razor-sharp.
And if a noise woke her in the middle of the night, she was ready to check it out. It was all part of being a scout.
Myka couldn’t waste another minute. She reached for her quiver, which was filled with porcupine quill darts. Then she flew outside.
Darkness pressed in close. Myka felt as if she were the only fairy in the world. She circled the Home Tree. Nothing. She flew through Pixie Hollow. For a wingbeat, she hovered over a patch of itchy ivy. Then she flew on.
Suddenly, she heard the noise. Boom! There was a low rumble in the distance. A flash lit the sky.
Myka had to get closer. She had to see what was happening. She flew t
oward the noise and lights. The rumblings turned to roars. The flashes grew brighter.
Everything looked strange in the on-again, off-again flare of light. Boom!
She saw a gnarled tree bent over, its bare branches sweeping the ground. Boom! She spotted a towering beehive. It swayed from the thick trunk of a maple tree.
She swerved around it and kept flying. Boom! The spooky light cast long shadows from trees…plants…rocks. Everything seemed different. But she was a scout. She had to keep going.
Besides, she was curious about what was going on. The sky was growing brighter now. Spying an open field, Myka settled to the ground.
Round red flowers covered the field. Their petals gathered together at the tips.
Why, she thought, they look like fluffy balls. I wonder if Lily would know what they are.
Poof! Each flower let out a puff of tangy air. Myka waved a hand to clear it away from her face. All her senses tingled. Something was about to happen. She forgot about the strange flowers.
A dark shape moved across the sky. Was it a giant black cloud?
Bang! Crash! An ear-splitting roar shook the field. The sky lit up with a dazzling brightness. Lightning! Myka realized. And thunder!
A major storm was brewing. And the way the wind was blowing, it would hit the Home Tree in no time.
Myka took off for Pixie Hollow. Now she didn’t stop to wonder about the sights and sounds. She flew with all her strength.
Home at last! She zipped through her open window. Already she was sounding the alarm. She blew three sharp blasts on a reed whistle by her bed. Danger! Danger! Danger! She flew through the halls, pounding on doors.
“Wake up!” she shouted.
Sleepy fairies poked their heads out of their rooms.
Bess, an art talent, wrapped her smocklike robe around her. “What is it?”
“Thunderstorm!” Myka called over her shoulder. “A big one! Check for weak branches! Latch your windows!”
Other scouts were already moving—helping and guiding fairies and sparrow men.
Disney Fairies: Queen Clarion's Secret Page 3