“Are too!” said Sylva.
“She’s mine and I’ll do whatever I want with her,” said Poppy.
“Fine!” said Sylva. “Take her to your house! It’s lucky she’s called Lucky, because she’ll need a lot of luck with you!”
Poppy’s face turned white. “I’m going home now,” she said. “You can come over to see my cat anytime. But a real friend wouldn’t tell me I’m not good enough to take care of her.”
“Then maybe I’m not your real friend,” said Sylva.
With Lucky clinging to her shoulder, Poppy flew downstairs and out the door.
“Odeo!” said Squeak.
Rosy and Squeak had come in from their afternoon walk.
“Sylva, what’s going on?” asked Rosy.
Sylva burst into tears. Between gulps, she told Rosy the whole story of the paint and the rainbow light and the cat that came to life. “Poppy is going to need help with that kitten,” said Sylva. “But she won’t get it from me.” She flew up to her room and slammed the door.
If Sylva had not done that, she might have been able to hear Rosy telling her not to take things too hard. She might even have heard Squeak saying “Ma-bo-bo” over and over again.
But Sylva heard none of these things. She only heard the sound of herself crying, as the beautiful spring day wore on.
fifteen
The next morning, Sylva didn’t know who to be maddest at: Lady Courtney, for giving them the dollhouse. Poppy, for saying that Lucky was hers. Lucky, for going with Poppy! Or herself, for picking the downstairs instead of the upstairs.
She went outside in the garden and saw the dollhouse sitting there. It didn’t look so pretty anymore. Sylva sniffled.
“No lolo,” said Squeak.
“I can’t help being sad, Squeakie,” said Sylva.
“Why don’t you fly over to Poppy’s and say you’re sorry?” said Rosy. “She’ll forgive you. And it would be hard to share a kitten in two different fairy houses. I’m sure you know that.”
“I would have shared, if we’d found Lucky downstairs in the dollhouse! You know I would have!” Sylva said that extra loud so she would believe it herself. But in her heart of hearts she could imagine that it would have been very hard to share a cat. “I suppose it would have been a little bit difficult,” she added in a small voice.
“You could say that to Poppy,” said Rosy, “just for starters. Then maybe things will sort themselves out.”
Sylva knew that was a good idea. But then she saw the red spotted blouse. Which made her think of Lucky doing those adorable flips. Which made her think of Poppy holding Lucky. Which made her think of how Poppy had a kitten, and she didn’t.
“I’m not going over to say sorry to Poppy. Poppy can come here and say sorry herself!”
Sylva spent a pretty dismal day on her own at the Bell sisters’ fairy house. Rosy was busy helping Squeakie sort her shells. Goldie had been out with Avery all day, trying on their new clothes from the jumble pile. Clara had stayed for a sleepover with the Flower sisters, which made Sylva feel even more alone.
The fairy dollhouse was not much fun to play with by herself. She arranged the corn-husk dolls and tried to make up a story about their fairy-doll family. But every story she made up was sad. Maybe I’ll make a puppy out of corn husks and it will come to life! thought Sylva. That would really show Poppy.
But she didn’t know how to make a puppy out of corn husks. And Poppy wasn’t there to show her.
“Sylva! I’m back! How’s the kitty?”
Clara’s bright voice raised Sylva’s spirits a little. Clara was so wise; Sylva would tell Clara all about what Poppy had done to her, and then Clara would make Poppy share Lucky.
Clara flew into the back garden. Sylva’s courage faltered a little when she saw her big sister. Clara wouldn’t like to hear that Sylva and Poppy were fighting.
“Hi, Sylva. You look so unhappy! Where’s Poppy? And how’s the kitten?”
“Oh, I’m fine. And I guess the kitten is fine. I wouldn’t know,” said Sylva. “She’s over at the Flower fairy house. With Poppy.”
“That’s right,” said Clara. “I saw her there this morning. Why aren’t you over there with Poppy, Sylva? She’s making cat toys for Lucky.”
Sylva could hardly bear to hear that Poppy was making toys for Lucky without her. How could she? She looked up at her big sister. “We had a fight,” said Sylva in a very small voice. “And I told her that if she wouldn’t share Lucky, I wouldn’t be her friend.”
“Oh no, Sylva! You must have been very angry at her.”
Sylva’s eyes filled with tears. “I was! I was so mad that she wouldn’t say Lucky was ours together. I told her she’d be bad at taking care of her own cat! But now I feel terrible that I said that.”
Clara looked at Sylva thoughtfully. “I’m sure you do,” said Clara. “But it can’t be easy for you, thinking that Lucky belongs to Poppy.”
“It’s not. You should go tell Poppy how bad I feel,” said Sylva. “Then she’d be sorry. Maybe she’d listen to you.”
“Maybe she would,” said Clara. “But I think it’s always better for two friends to work things out for themselves, don’t you?”
Sylva didn’t reply. “I’m going out for a fly around the island,” she said, “so I can think about how unfair everything is. Plus, I want to see if that ship is still there.”
“What ship?” asked Clara.
“The big one, way out on the horizon,” said Sylva. “I’m sure it’s gone now.”
“Was it . . . a gnome boat?” asked Clara. She blushed, and Sylva knew why. Clara had a crush on one of the gnomes who’d visited last winter.
“Nope, too big,” said Sylva. “And the sails were really dirty. Not like a gnome boat at all.”
“You go out and clear your head,” said Clara. “And if that ship is still there and if the sailors need help with their spring-cleaning, let me know.”
Clara and Sylva couldn’t possibly know it, but spring-cleaning was the last thing on those sailors’ minds.
sixteen
I don’t want you to be too shocked in the next part of the story so I think I’d better let you in on a secret. The sailors aboard that ship were not just an untidy bunch. They were a lying bunch. A thieving bunch. A very mean bunch indeed. For aboard that ship were PIRATES.
Now, please, do not be too worried. Pirates don’t often sail into the waters near Sheepskerry. And when they do, they rarely land on Sheepskerry Island. In fact, Queen Mab never seemed to worry about pirates at all. There hadn’t been a pirate sighting on Sheepskerry Island for many fairy years. And there had been no signs of pirate camps on the fairy island’s shores for many years longer.
But the Bilgewater was a pirate ship, all right. Captain Sinker was at the helm with Mr. Leakey as his mate. The captain was looking through his spyglass. He squinted, and so did Mr. Leakey. Their sights were set squarely on—
“Sheepskerry Island,” said the captain with a nasty laugh. “Wouldn’t you say, Mr. Leakey?”
“I would, Cap’n!” said Mr. Leakey, who agreed with the captain as if his life depended on it, which it often did.
Captain Sinker flourished a large red handkerchief and blew his nose. HAAAWNNK. “Ripe for the plundering. Full of the treasure I crave.” He sniffed again.
“Aye, aye, captain,” said Mr. Leakey. “We all crave treasure.” Mr. Leakey often dreamed of treasure. “Um . . . what kind of treasure be it, Cap’n? Will there be plenty for all?”
“There’ll be nothing for you unless I say there is,” Captain Sinker roared. He noticed that Mr. Leakey was drooling. “Wipe yer mouth, ye gaping toad, and turn the tiller toward Sheepskerry.” He looked out toward the magical island. “And I pity any pestering fairies who get in our way.”
Oh, let’s hope our fairies don’t get in that pirate captain’s way!
seventeen
Sylva flew out of the Bell sisters’ fairy house and down toward Foggy Bottom, which was a
funny name for a pretty place. It was always misty and cool down there, even on a clear spring day like this. Sylva thought the mist and the breeze might help her think.
When she arrived at Foggy Bottom, she was surprised to see Queen Mab sitting on a rock, looking out onto the water. Sylva didn’t want to disturb her, but Queen Mab must have heard Sylva’s wings fluttering, because she turned toward her and smiled.
“Sylva, dear,” said Queen Mab, “what brings you here?”
“I’m so sorry, my queen,” said Sylva. She kept making mistakes around Queen Mab!
“Not to worry,” said Queen Mab. “I’ve actually been thinking about you.”
Sylva could hardly believe it. “Thinking about me?” she asked.
Queen Mab patted a space on the rock next to her. Sylva sat down. “Yes,” said the queen. “I’ve been thinking about you and Poppy, and what good friends you are. I could learn a thing or two from you.”
Sylva didn’t say anything, but she hung her head.
“What is it, Sylva?”
“I don’t think you could learn anything from me,” said Sylva. “I told Poppy I didn’t want to be her friend.”
Queen Mab shook her head. “Oh no,” she said. “That dollhouse—”
“It’s not the dollhouse’s fault!” cried Sylva. “It’s just that we found a cat—”
“A ginger cat?” asked Queen Mab.
“No, a little gray kitten. And it came to life! And I should have said that I’d be happy to share, but I wasn’t happy to share and so I was mean to Poppy and now I don’t have a kitten or a best friend.”
“Oh, Sylva,” said Queen Mab. “Sharing can be so hard. So very hard.”
The queen found Sylva’s hand and squeezed it tight.
“That’s what came between Nia and me. Only it wasn’t a dollhouse we had to share.” Queen Mab’s voice was very low. But Sylva could have sworn she said, “It was Fairyland itself.”
eighteen
Queen Mab didn’t say a lot to Sylva about what was on her mind. She didn’t have to. Sylva could tell that the dollhouse had caused trouble with the queen’s friend, Nia. Sylva wondered who Nia was, and where she lived now. “You must miss each other so much,” she said to Queen Mab. “Maybe you two can be friends again. Just saying hello might be a good place to start.”
Sylva suddenly realized something. She could just say hello. Then she could tell her best friend that she had made a mistake and she was so, so sorry. Then Poppy and she could be friends again. Lucky could be Poppy’s cat, but they could both play with her. Sylva could show Poppy how to hold her kitten. And they could fly her back and forth between their two fairy houses. It would be so much fun!
“Oh, Queen Mab, please excuse me! I’ve got to go!”
Sylva put on a burst of speed and zipped over to the Flower sisters’ house. It made Sylva happy to see her friend’s house—it was so pretty in the springtime, its roof bursting with trillium and bunchberries. Just looking at their pretty blossoms made Sylva happy.
She flew right into Poppy’s house without even knocking on the door.
“Poppy! I’m back! I came to say—”
“Poppy’s not here, Sylva,” said Iris Flower.
“We wanted her to stay and help us mix our teas,” said Daisy Flower. She put a purple flower behind Sylva’s ear. “But she said she needed to see you. She left an hour ago. Maybe more.”
“I think she wanted to say sorry,” said Iris. “She took Lucky with her.”
“Oh no,” said Sylva. “I wanted to say sorry!”
“Check back at your fairy house, Sylva,” said Susan. “I’m sure she’s there, playing with Lucky.”
But when Sylva arrived at the Bell sisters’ fairy house, Poppy was not there.
“Well, they can’t be far,” said Clara when Sylva told her what was going on. “I think I even saw Poppy heading toward Lupine Pond when I was out running errands earlier today. I didn’t see Lucky with her, though.”
That made Sylva worry.
“Don’t fret, Sylva,” said Rosy. “They’re here somewhere. I’m not worried about Poppy. She’s safe anywhere on the island, especially as the trolls are still hibernating. But if Lucky’s not at the Flower sisters’ house, or in Poppy’s arms . . .”
“No! No! Don’t say it!” said Sylva, thinking of all the terrible things that could happen to a tiny little kitten on a big island. “She might have fallen into the water! Or a hawk could get her. She’s probably in danger right now. And it’s all my fault!”
nineteen
Sylva had some very good sisters, especially when a crisis hit. They would all need to pull together to help her find Poppy and Lucky. And pull together they did.
Clara and Rosy knew where they’d find Goldie; she’d be over at the schoolhouse, where her best friend, Avery Pastel, lived. They flew straight there. Goldie and Avery were in the middle of a fashion show, but once Goldie heard what was happening, she left at once. “Don’t try on anything without me!” she called to her best friend as she hurried out the door.
“What a ninny that Sylva is,” Goldie said as they flew back toward the Fairy Village, “to say such a thing to sweet Poppy. I’m tempted to give her a good scolding when I see her.”
By the time Clara, Rosy, and Goldie arrived back at home, Sylva was in such a sad and sorry state that Goldie gave her a hug instead. “Poppy can take care of herself,” she told her sister. “And we’ll find Lucky. Don’t you worry.”
“It’s all my fault,” said Sylva.
“Yes, it is,” said Goldie. “But let’s sort that out later.”
“Sylva and Rosy—you scoot around the Fairy Village,” said Clara, “and then around Lacy Meadow, to see if you can find Poppy. Goldie and I will head down to the dock and scour the west side of the island in case she’s there.”
“Squeak!” said Squeak.
“Oh, Squeakie, of course we didn’t forget you,” said Clara. “Rosy will take you in the fairy carrier, won’t you, Rosy?”
“Climb aboard!” said Rosy. Clara lifted Squeakie into the carrier.
“Coomada!” said Squeak.
“Glad you like it,” said Rosy.
“Let’s sing our flying song,” said Clara, “while we’re on the wing. It will speed up our flight!” And as they lifted into the air, they sang:
We’ll go flying ’round the island on the wing.
On the wing!
We’ll go flying ’round the island on the wing.
On the wing!
We’ll go flying ’round the island,
flying ’round the island,
We’ll go flying ’round the island on the wing.
When they hit the last bright note, all five sisters felt better, even Sylva.
“We’ll find them in no time,” said Clara.
And then, thought Sylva, maybe Poppy and I can be friends again.
The search did not go well. No one in the Fairy Village had seen Poppy, although a few fairies recalled seeing a small gray kitten darting between the trees.
“I saw that cat a little earlier this morning,” said Judy Jellicoe as Sylva and Rosy passed her on the boardwalk. “And then Poppy came along afterward. She doesn’t seem to be very good with animals. Why don’t you help her out, Sylva?”
Of course that only made Sylva feel worse.
“Don’t worry,” said Rosy. “They’re going to be fine. I’m sure they’re just around the next tree.” But they were not behind the next tree. And the fog was rolling in.
By midafternoon, Sylva and Rosy and Squeak had looked all over the east side of the island for Poppy and Lucky. They were about to turn around to see if Clara and Goldie had had any luck when they heard a tiny—
Mew!
“Rosy! It’s Lucky!” Sylva cried.
They saw a streak of gray fur heading down to the shoreline.
“Not that way, Lucky!” cried Sylva. “Oh, Rosy, she’s headed to Pirates’ Cove.”
Sylva and Rosy—with
Squeak on her back—followed Lucky down to the cove. Sylva wasn’t sure why it made her so nervous to go there. It was something about the ship and the tattered dark sails. Before she could think too much about that, she saw the blur of beating wings out of the corner of her eye.
“Poppy!” she cried. Poppy must have spotted Lucky, too. Sylva saw her alight on a high branch of a spruce tree at the tip of Pirates’ Cove. Sylva was about to call out to her again—but then her voice caught in her throat.
“Don’t say a word,” said Rosy.
Even through the fog, Rosy and Sylva could see the same big, dingy ship that Sylva had spotted on the horizon days before. It was much, much closer now.
But that was not the worst thing.
The worst thing was that two of the sailors from the ship—one tall, one squat—were in a rowboat, splashing noisily toward Sheepskerry. Their boat was laden with pickaxes, shovels . . . and a great big treasure chest.
“Rosy, are those—”
But Sylva didn’t get to finish her question. Because through the fog came a booming voice.
“Aaaargh, me hearties. Here be treasure.”
twenty
Pirates!
Rosy and Sylva looked at each other in dread. They had read about Captain Hook and his terrible pirate crew in the book called Peter Pan. They knew just how horrible pirates could be.
“Eee lalee!”
“Don’t be scared, Squeakie,” said Rosy, her voice rising just a little in fear. “We’ll keep you safe from the pirates.” She turned to Sylva. “Look, Sylva. I’ll go warn Poppy. You take the fairy carrier off my back so I can—”
“We don’t have time for that!” said Sylva.
“You’re right,” said Rosy. “We’ve got to get Squeakie out of danger now.”
“You’ll have to fly to the palace to tell Queen Mab what’s happening,” said Sylva. “And I’ll take care of Poppy and Lucky.”
“Be careful, Sylva!” Rosy gave Sylva a quick, fierce hug and flew off, faster than Sylva had ever seen her.
Sylva and the Lost Treasure Page 3