Tinker Bell leaned down and drew a picture of the arch in the dirt. “We’re lost,” she told her new friends, hoping they’d be able to help. “By any chance, have you seen a stone arch around here?”
A huge swarm of bees lifted Tinker Bell to her feet and pushed her in the direction of the jungle. All the bugs and butterflies hovered and buzzed, urging her to fly. But Tinker Bell couldn’t get off the ground. “Oh, no! I’m out of pixie dust. Looks like I’ll be walking from here.”
She spotted something on the ground. “My compass!” She ran to it. It had obviously fallen out of the balloon basket when it had drifted away. Now it lay in pieces on the ground. She leaned over to inspect it. “Ouch!” She accidentally poked herself with the needle. Now she understood why Terence had brought her the compass. “That is a sharp thingy, Terence,” she muttered. She stuck the needle in her belt. A sharp thingy was always handy to have on an adventure.
The bugs began moving, and Tink followed. They led her through the forest to an outcropping of rock that overlooked a valley. Ta-da! Tink looked across the valley, and there it was. “The stone arch! Blaze, we made it. We’re here.”
One of the pill bugs rubbed up against her ankle. Grateful for his help, Tink leaned over and gave him a pat on the head. “Thank you so much.”
Tinker Bell and Blaze waved good-bye to the bugs and set out in the direction of the arch. “Great to have friends who’ll help you out, huh?” she whispered to him.
Even though she had every reason to be happy, she couldn’t help feeling sad. She had once had a friend back home who would help her, too. Tinker Bell bowed her head in sorrow. That friendship was over now.
Back in Pixie Hollow, Terence sat with his own head bowed. He needed some advice. “I know Tink is my best friend,” he said sadly. “We should just forgive each other. Someone just needs to take the first step.”
“Who?” Terence’s companion asked.
“I think it should be Tink,” Terence said promptly.
“Who?”
“Tink. She blamed me for breaking the scepter.”
“Who?”
Terence looked up and met his companion’s gaze. His companion blinked and turned his head all the way around. Owls really are amazing, Terence thought.
“Who?” the owl asked again. He looked straight at Terence. “Who?”
Terence began to understand. He should be the one to go to Tinker Bell. “Me,” Terence answered. “Me!” A smile spread across his face. “Thank you so much, Mr. Owl. You know what? You truly are the wisest of all the creatures.”
Terence flew toward Tink’s house. He needed to talk to her.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Hey, Tink! It’s me. Look, I know you’re mad at me. But there’s something I need to tell you.”
Terence waited, but there was no answer from inside the house.
Cautiously, he opened the door. “Anyone home?”
Still no answer. Terence entered the house and shut the door behind him. There was a strange, musty stillness in the air. He stepped carefully over the broken pieces of the scepter that had caused so much trouble between him and Tink.
Something glittering on the floor drew his attention. His eyes widened. He kneeled down and scooped up a handful of dust. He examined it closely and gasped. Oh, no! In the dust he could clearly see tiny pieces of the moonstone.
That could only mean one thing: The moonstone had broken.
This was a disaster. A tragedy. He looked around. No wonder the house was empty. Tink was gone. But where?
Terence went to her desk, looking for clues. As soon as he saw her diagram for a balloon and a checklist of things to take, he understood the situation. It wasn’t good.
Tink had sailed away in a homemade balloon—and she was alone.
Tinker Bell trudged through the valley. Her heart felt almost as heavy as her feet. “It’s our last day, Blaze. We’ve got to find that shipwreck soon.”
They came to the edge of a chasm. Though Tinker Bell was out of pixie dust, there were always a few specks clinging to a fairy’s wings. Tink fanned her wings as hard as she could and felt a little lift.
She flung herself forward and held her breath. She barely managed to get across the chasm. Her hands scrambled wildly to hold on and keep her from slipping off the edge. As soon as she was on her feet again, Blaze let out a squeak and pointed to a tunnel.
A tunnel? Tink didn’t remember anything about a tunnel in Lyria’s story. But all tunnels led somewhere, and Tink had nothing left to lose. So she took a deep breath and dove into the dark opening with Blaze right behind her.
When Tink and Blaze came out the other end of the tunnel, they found themselves in a thick forest. A covered bridge encrusted with thorny thickets stretched out ahead of them. Two stone trolls guarded the entrance.
Tink put one foot on the bridge and the trolls sprang to life. She drew back, alarmed.
“None shall pass the secret troll bridge,” the tall one intoned.
Tinker Bell smacked her head. “Troll bridge. I thought Lyria said toll bridge.” She tried to laugh, and Blaze displayed his most engaging smile. “Look, fellas. I don’t want any trouble.”
The tall troll glared. “We are guardians—”
The short troll cut him off. “Hey, hey, hey.”
The tall troll plowed on. “… of the secret—”
“Hey!” the small troll barked again.
“What?” the tall troll asked irritably.
“It’s my turn to give the ominous warning, blockhead.”
“Is not,” responded the tall troll.
“Is too,” said the short one.
“Is not,” repeated the tall troll.
“Is too.”
“Not.”
“Too.”
“Not! Not! Not!”
“Too! Too! Too!”
“But you did it last time,” protested the tall troll.
The short troll looked indignant. “That was over three hundred years ago.”
The tall troll grudgingly relented. “Go ahead,” he said gruffly.
The short troll squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. “We are guardians of the secret bridge. Beat it before we grind your bones to make our bed.”
“Bread,” the tall troll corrected.
“What?”
The tall troll rolled his eyes. “The expression is ‘grind your bones to make our bread.’ Not bed.”
“Really? Who would want to make bread out of bones? Might break a tooth.”
The tall troll began to lose his patience. “Well, who’d want to sleep in a bed made of bones? Hard on the back. That’d put a crick in your neck, you knucklehead.”
The small troll seemed to remember that Tinker Bell and Blaze were watching and listening. “Ixnay in front of the ictim-vay, gravel-for-brains.”
The tall troll was too insulted to worry about what Tinker Bell and Blaze thought about them. He was just eager to hurl an insult back. “Fuzz Face.”
“Thimblehead.”
“Stinky Breath.”
“Googly Eyes.”
“Waxy Ears!”
“Unibrow!” the small troll bellowed.
Tinker Bell and Blaze looked at each other in disbelief. These two were clearly not serious about guarding the bridge. If they wanted to waste time standing here and trading insults, that was their business. But Tink had a magic mirror to find. She started forward. “Excuse me. I need to get through!”
The two trolls snapped to attention. “None shall pass!” they proclaimed in what sounded like an official troll voice.
Now Tink was mad. If these two goofballs thought they were going to stop her, they had another think coming. Tink put her hands on her hips and thrust her face forward. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through here? I almost got attacked by bugs and bats, and got blown all over the place by the wind, and almost starved to death to find a mirror that grants one last wish—which I wouldn’t have even neede
d if Terence had taken his time finding me a sharp thingy instead of making me break the moonstone. And then he didn’t even share his pixie dust because he cares more about the stupid rules than he does about me. And if that wasn’t enough, he even went and tried—”
“Whoa! Whoa!” cautioned the tall troll, interrupting. “Hang on. Hang on. Who’s Terence?”
“Is he a friend of yours?” asked the small troll.
“Well, yeah. He was my best friend.”
“But you’re not very nice,” commented the tall troll.
“Hey. Don’t you judge me. You’ve been yelling at each other since I got here.” She looked over at Blaze to make sure he was still with her.
Blaze crossed his six arms over his body and nodded at Tink—letting her know that he had her back.
“He knows I don’t mean it.” The tall troll looked at the short one. “Don’t you?”
The small troll gave him a sentimental smile. “You old softie.”
The tall troll smiled, too. “Like when I call you Wart Face.”
“Or when I called you Big Nose.”
“Booger Breath.” This time, there was a little edge in the tall troll’s voice.
“Stinky Feet.”
Now the tall troll was genuinely annoyed. “Weasel Toes!” he said, daring the small troll to try to top that.
The small troll hit right back with “Badger Brain!”
“Garden Gnome,” the tall troll thundered, delivering what was clearly the most annihilating insult in the troll arsenal.
The small troll seemed to crumble. His face fell. His eyes filled with tears. “Garden Gnome,” he whispered, as if he just couldn’t believe that his oldest and dearest friend could have said something so hurtful.
The tall troll was immediately apologetic. “Oh, dear. I don’t know where that came from. I … I … crossed the line.”
“Say the magic words,” sniffled the small troll. “Go on.”
The tall troll looked around as if to be sure no one could overhear.
Tinker Bell eagerly leaned forward, determined to catch what they were saying. Magic words! Maybe they were the magic words she would need to speak to the Mirror of Incanta.
The tall troll finally spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said, giving the words great weight and emphasis.
“Do you mean it?” the small troll asked weakly.
“Absolutely.”
“Do you feel it?” pressed the small troll.
“Deeply.”
The small troll considered it; then he smiled broadly. “Then I forgive you.”
“Friends?” the tall troll asked.
“Friends,” the small troll confirmed. “Come here, buddy.”
“Pal.”
Even though those weren’t the magic words Tinker Bell had been hoping for, she couldn’t help smiling as she watched the curmudgeonly trolls embrace. It was a terrible thing to see good friends fight.
“Amigo!” the small troll said happily.
“Compadre!” cried the tall one.
“You’re the best.”
“No, you.”
“No, you!”
Blaze nudged Tink and flickered his light. She gave him a nod. Now was the time to cross the bridge—while the two trolls were paying more attention to each other than to her.
“You’re right,” the tall troll said, switching tactics.
“I am the best,” he said with a sly smile.
The small troll rose immediately to the bait. “So now you think you’re better than me?”
Quietly, Tinker Bell began to tiptoe past them, leaving the trolls to enjoy their favorite activity—bickering.
Tinker Bell and Blaze pushed forward on their journey. It was a long and exhausting haul. With every passing hour, Tink became more and more anxious. Time was slipping away. If they didn’t find the mirror soon, it would be too late.
“Blaze!” she said suddenly. “Listen!”
She heard the unmistakable sound of surf breaking on a beach. She lurched forward, plowing through brush and branches until she finally came upon a breathtaking sight: a jagged, rock-strewn beach … with the remains of a wrecked ship washed up on the shore.
“‘The ship that sunk but never sank.’ Blaze, this is it!” She ran toward the hulk with Blaze flying behind her. “We’ve got to find that mirror and fix the moonstone.”
The closer she got to the wreck, the spookier it looked. She approached with caution. The ship looked as if it were haunted. Barnacles clung to the beams. Cobwebs draped over every surface. Rotten ropes and rusted pulleys swayed in the breeze, groaning and squeaking.
She stepped inside and shivered from the cold. “Why couldn’t the mirror be in a bunny-filled meadow?” she muttered, then stopped with a gasp. There was a monster’s shadow on the wall in front of her!
Blaze saw the shadow, too, and immediately lifted his fists, ready to fight.
But then Tink smiled. She realized that the monstrous shadow was actually the result of Blaze’s light shining on the walls of the ship. Tinker Bell made growling sounds and moved Blaze back and forth so that his light created a shadow-puppet show.
They both laughed, but abruptly stopped as their playful giggling echoed through the ship, turning into a maniacal cackle.
Now they were too frightened to laugh. But the trick of the light gave Tink an idea. She took off her headband and wrapped it around Blaze so that she could direct the beam he was making. Blaze, always happy to help, shone as brightly as he could.
They climbed through the ship, making their way to the captain’s quarters. The farther into the ship they went, the darker and scarier it got. Tink tried to ignore the thundering beat of her own heart. They edged along broken ledges and rotten floorboards. Finally, they entered the captain’s bedroom. The once-grand chamber was littered with cobwebs, barnacles, tattered wall hangings, and rusted iron furniture.
Tink moved Blaze around and peered into the corners. “Look, Blaze!” she cried. High up, hanging from a dagger plunged into the wall, was a satchel stamped with a skull and crossbones.
Tinker Bell fanned her wings and tried desperately to reach it, but she couldn’t. She drew the compass needle from her belt and thrust it at the satchel like a spear.
The spear struck the satchel and ripped a hole in its side. A river of precious objects poured out of the hole. Tink had to jump aside quickly to avoid being crushed by the falling stream of treasure—most of it clearly stolen from fairies. Tiny silver looms, gold caps, rings, cups, vases, shoes, and paintings fell in a mound. A fairy-sized ring bounced off Tink’s head. She caught it and slipped it on her finger. Nice. But she wasn’t here to find jewelry.
She stared at the huge twinkling pile. “What do you think, Blaze? Could the mirror be in there? Help me look.” The firefly hovered overhead as Tink pawed through the loot. She drew back and gasped when she found something absolutely astonishing.
She saw her own face staring back at her with enormous eyes and a mouth wide open. The face looked as surprised as Tink felt.
This could only mean one thing.
Tink was looking at a mirror!
“It’s for real!” she exclaimed. She picked up the looking glass. The gold handle and seashell frame were embellished with precious pink pearls.
Tinker Bell tried to stay calm. The solution to her problem was finally in her hands. All she had to do now was repair the moonstone. She removed the fragments from her own satchel and laid them carefully in front of the mirror.
“Okay, deep breath,” she told herself. “Clear your mind. You only get one shot at this. Here goes.”
Tink lifted the mirror. She looked directly at her reflection and was just about to speak when …
BZZZZZZ! Blaze flew right past her ear.
Tink shook her head to clear it and prepared to start over. “I wish …”
BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ! Blaze flew around Tinker Bell’s head in giddy excitement. Good grief ! Blaze was as distracting as Terence. Ca
n’t he see that I’m trying to concentrate?
“I wish—” she began again.
BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ!
Tinker Bell whipped her head around. “I wish you’d be quiet for one minute!” she blurted out.
Instantly, the buzzing stopped and Tink’s irritation subsided. “Thank you.” She turned back to the mirror and watched her own expression turn to one of shock when she realized what she had just done.
Horrified, she looked back at Blaze, who continued to fly in circles … making absolutely no sound at all.
Tink’s eyes widened with dread. “No! No! No! No!” Her hands gripped the mirror and throttled the handle until her knuckles turned white. “I take that wish back. Please! Don’t let it count. That wasn’t my wish.”
She whirled around and lashed out at Blaze. “Look what you’ve done! This mirror was my last chance. This is all your fault!”
Her shoulders slumped. She closed her eyes, trying not to cry, but she couldn’t stop the tears. Blaze nudged her arm and tried to speak. All he could manage was a sad squeak. Tinker Bell put her hand on him. “I’m sorry, Blaze. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. All mine.”
Blaze laid his head on her knee like a puppy. Tink was touched by his ability to forgive so quickly. Why couldn’t everybody be like Blaze? Why couldn’t she? Why couldn’t Terence? She missed her friend so much. “I wish Terence were here,” she said out loud. “I wish we were still friends.”
She gazed at the mirror. There was no magic left in it now. Only the reflection of her own heartbroken face. One of her tears fell onto the glass.
Suddenly, Tink heard Terence’s voice. “We are friends, Tink.”
Tink held up the mirror, her tear cutting a track through the dust and grime. She could just barely make out the shape of another face in the reflection. Terence’s face. She drew in her breath. “Terence,” she said to the mirror. “I am so sorry.”
“I forgive you,” Terence said gently.
“I miss you so much,” Tink sadly told the face in the glass.
“I miss you, too. But Tink, why didn’t you tell me about the moonstone?”
“I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t think I needed any help. Terence, I was wrong. I wish you were here.”
Tinker Bell and the Lost Treasure Page 5