Tinker Bell Junior Novel

by Disney Book Group

  “Oh, no! None of that.” Tink tried to pull him out from behind the eggshell. “Come on. All we’ve got to do is—ouch!” The hatchling had given her hand a hard peck.

  Tink narrowed her eyes. Okay. It looked as if she was going to have to do this the hard way.

  Tinker Bell lunged at the little bird. But he stepped aside and Tink hit the other side of the nest headfirst.

  CRASH!

  “Phhhht!” Tink spit out a mouthful of nesting twigs and feathers. She stared at the hatchling. The hatchling stared stubbornly back. Tink was going to have to get tough.

  “Look,” she said between clenched teeth. “I’m going to level with you, okay? I kind of bombed on the whole water- and light-fairy things. I’m starting to run out of options here. So if you’d flap your little wings and take flight for a few measly seconds, I might be able to go to the mainland and bring happiness to the world! Whaddya say?”

  The bird reached for a piece of eggshell and slowly began to reassemble his shell—around himself.

  Tink exploded. “Wrong answer!” She grabbed the chick’s wings and pulled. One way or another, this cute little birdie was going to leave the nest. “If I end up making acorn kettles for the rest of my life, I’m holding you personally responsible! OW! OW! OW!”

  The bird pecked frantically at Tink’s hands and face.

  “Stop squirming! OW! HEY! OW! OKAY, FINE! I’M LETTING GO!” Tink released him and looked around for Fawn. This was not working. She was going to need some help.

  All the animal fairies seemed to be busy. But up in the sky, silhouetted against the sun, she saw a huge bird soaring majestically.

  Tink perked up. “Maybe that guy can help!” she said to the little bird. “He’s a really good flier.”

  Tink shot up into the air, streaking toward the bird. “Hey! Hey, up there!”

  Higher and higher she flew. So high that she didn’t hear the voices of the scout fairies. She looked down. They all seemed to be watching her. Waving their arms. Shaking their heads. Trying desperately to tell her something.

  Whatever it was, it would have to wait. This bird was traveling fast. If Tink didn’t get his attention, he’d be gone.

  Tinker Bell put her hands around her mouth and yelled as loudly as she could at the bird.

  The big bird turned and began flying back toward Tink. All right! It had worked.

  But then Tink got a good look at the bird, now diving directly at her, and her heart came to an awful, sickening stop.

  It was a hawk!

  Thinking fast, Tink dove straight down. She aimed for the dense branches. Maybe if she disappeared into the foliage she could lose the hawk.

  She flew into the canopy of the woods. The leaves slapped briskly at her arms and legs as they closed behind her.

  CRRAACK!

  She could hear the hawk swooping through the branches behind her.

  Tink spied a knothole in a tree trunk. She headed for it, zigging and zagging. She dove inside and cowered against the inner wall of the hollow trunk just in time. Outside, the hawk screamed and clawed at the bark.

  Suddenly, someone pulled her wings down and spun her around.

  “Vidia!”

  “This is my hiding spot!” the fast-flying fairy hissed.

  There was a hideous cracking sound and they both screamed. The hawk had torn a big chunk of bark away from the knothole. It wouldn’t be long before he was able to reach in with his talons.

  Vidia ran toward a hole in the floor of the trunk. “It’s all yours now.” And with that, she jumped into the opening and disappeared.

  Tink followed her.

  The two fairies slid through the chute in the trunk of the tree. Tink could see the light at the end of the hole.

  Just ahead of Tink, Vidia came to a screeching stop, grabbing the edges of the knothole to keep from sliding out.

  Tink tried to grab hold of something herself, but she wasn’t quick enough. She skidded right into Vidia, sending the raven-haired fairy sprawling out onto a branch—right between the taloned feet of the hawk!

  Vidia looked up, her eyes widening with horror. The hawk looked down and opened his beak to strike.

  At that moment, a hail of rocks, twigs, berries, and seeds showered over the hawk. The bird reared back.

  A second volley of rocks and sticks rained down over his head. He veered from side to side, disoriented.

  “Get him!”

  “Go on!”

  “Get out of here!”

  Tink could hear the fairies shouting at the hawk as they pelted him with anything and everything they could get their hands on.

  Finally, the hawk wheeled upward and flew away. His angry screech echoed through the forest, raising the hair on the back of every fairy neck in Pixie Hollow.

  The fairies gathered around Vidia. She was a mess. She had gotten hit with a few berries herself and was covered with bits of pulp and purple juice.

  Some giggled, but Tink actually felt sorry for her. Haughty Vidia, the fastest fairy in Pixie Hollow, looked bedraggled, defeated, rattled, and humiliated. Tink approached her carefully.

  “You have a little …” She reached out to try to wipe the berry juice from Vidia’s cheek.

  Vidia pushed her hand away. “No touching!” she snapped. “I’m fine.”

  “But I was only trying to help.”

  “Well, stop trying.” Vidia scrambled to her feet and flew away, looking even more fierce than the hawk, and a lot more purple.

  Silvermist, Rosetta, Iridessa, and Fawn gathered around Tink. “Tinker Bell—” Silvermist began.

  Tink cut her off. There was nothing anybody could say now that would make her feel better.

  Everything she did was a disaster. “I can’t hold water,” she said. “Can’t hold light. Birds hate me. I’m just so … so useless!”

  “Tink—” Fawn began. Tink spread her wings and flew away. “We have to go help her,” she heard Silvermist say. But Tink knew that nobody could help her.

  Tink flew to the beach cove to sulk. She settled down on the sand and began chucking pebbles into the foliage while she muttered to herself.

  “Great. I failed for the third time in a row. At this rate, I should get to the mainland right around … oh, never.” She angrily heaved a pebble and heard an unexpected clink!

  Curiosity won out over self-pity. Tinker Bell flew over to see what was in the underbrush. She pulled aside the leaves and emerged into a little clearing.

  In the middle of the clearing stood a mysterious machine … or what was left of one.

  A round porcelain box encased the machine. Tink peered inside at an intricate arrangement of springs and levers—most of them out of place, bent, or broken.

  She couldn’t help smiling. Rust and water had done a lot of damage. But it was still a lovely thing—and it would be a beautiful thing when she got through with it.

  Tink cracked her knuckles and got right to work.

  She enjoyed putting the pieces together like a puzzle. Little by little, the apparatus began to take shape. Tinker Bell tweaked this and twisted that, using imagination and ingenuity to make it work. Flat-sided seashells made great screwdrivers. Seaweed made a terrific polishing cloth. And jellyfish jelly made excellent grease.

  Before long, she had repaired a strange metal comb, using twigs and pine-needle tips. She plucked the tines of the comb, listening to the different musical note each one made.

  Finally, all the parts were back inside the box and in their correct places. The gears were tight, and each screw was snug. The metal comb was fastened into its slot, with the tines lined up against a mysterious cylinder with little bumps all over it. Now, if only Tinker Bell knew what the box did!

  Tink closed the lid. As she did, she noticed a hole in the lid that led directly into the gears of the box. There must be one more part, Tink realized. She looked around and noticed a brass post sticking out of a nearby bush. As she pulled the post out, she saw that it was attached to the feet of a p
orcelain dancer. The figure was about Tink’s size.

  Using a sprinkle of pixie dust to make the dancer light, Tink managed to carry her to the box and restore her to her rightful place on the very top. The post at her feet fit perfectly into the hole in the lid.

  Tinker Bell took the dancer’s outstretched hand and slowly spun her around. The most astonishing thing happened as the dancer turned: the box began to play a melody! Oh, it was so beautiful! Tink’s heart swelled. Now I need a name for it, she thought, and wracked her brain for a name. “Melody machine”? “Ditty player”? Oh, well, she thought, “music box” will have to do until I come up with something better.

  A sudden burst of applause startled her. She whirled around and saw Rosetta, Fawn, Iridessa, and Silvermist watching, beaming with pride.

  “You fixed it!” Silvermist exclaimed.

  “Amazing!” Rosetta sighed.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Tink cried.

  But her friends were too busy admiring the music box to answer.

  “Wow! That is beautiful!” Fawn said.

  Iridessa’s eyes were opened wide. “It might be the sparkliest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot of sparkly things!”

  Silvermist flew slowly around the box. “It’s a really pretty, uh … thingy. What is it?”

  Tinker Bell rubbed the end of her nose. “I don’t know. I just found it.”

  Rosetta smiled and glowed even pinker than usual. “Tinker Bell, do you realize what you’re doing? You’re tinkering!”

  Tinker Bell shook her head forcefully. Fixing the music box hadn’t felt at all like putting handles on acorn pails. It had been fun. Fun like inventing the nutcracker and the flower-sprayer. “No, this isn’t … I was just—”

  Rosetta stopped her. “Creating those gadgets, figuring things out, fixing stuff like this … that’s what tinkering is, sweetie!”

  Iridessa’s glow flickered emphatically. “Don’t you like doing this? Isn’t it what you really love?”

  Her friends had a point, Tink had to admit. If this was really what tinkering was about, then she certainly couldn’t claim she didn’t love it.

  “Yeah!” Silvermist said. “Who cares about going to the mainland, anyway?”

  That was when Tinker Bell recalled why she didn’t want to be a tinker. “Well, I do, remember?” She gestured at the music box. “I want to see where these things come from! Are you just giving up on me?” She turned to look at Rosetta. “I mean, aren’t you going to teach me how to be a garden fairy anymore?”

  Rosetta took a step forward. “Oh, sweetpea, I think this is your talent.”

  Silvermist shook her head, and droplets of water flew from the ends of her hair. “Tink, we just want you to be happy.”

  Somehow, that just made Tink angrier. “If you really wanted to help, you’d help me get to the mainland like you promised.”

  Fawn reached out her hand. “Please, Tink. Just think about it.”

  Tink backed away. What was there to think about? Sure, she liked to tinker. So what? What good was it if it didn’t help her get what she wanted?

  Her friends exchanged sad and helpless looks. Tink could see that they finally understood that nothing they could say or do was going to change her feelings. The four fairies rose into the air.

  Tink watched them fly away. High overhead, visible even in the day, was the Second Star—a signpost pointing to a destination she would never see. Why? Because she was a failure.

  If her friends wouldn’t help her, then she was out of options.

  Unless …

  Later that night, Tink flew toward Vidia’s house, which was in a lone sour-plum tree perched on the edge of a craggy slope.

  Vidia opened the door. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Tinker Bell.

  Tink gave her a pleading smile. “Will you teach me how to be a fast-flying fairy?”

  Vidia answered by slamming the door in Tink’s face.

  Tink knocked insistently. “Pleeeeease?” she begged. “I know I could do it. With your help, I could be flying as fast as you in no time.”

  There was no answer.

  Tink slumped against the door. “Vidia!” she begged. “You’re my last hope. All my so-called friends have given up on me. Rosetta won’t even try to teach me how to be a garden fairy now.”

  Still no answer. Tink went on, mostly talking to herself. “I bet I could at least paint some flowers, or round up some sproutlings—there must be something I can do—”

  The door opened. Tink jumped, startled. Vidia stood there with her arms crossed and a sly smile on her face.

  “Or … ,” Vidia said sweetly, “if you really wanted to be a garden fairy …”

  Needlepoint Meadow was deserted. Rogue breezes blew in every direction, tossing Tink’s hair as she put the finishing touches on the corral she had built out of twigs. It had high walls and a sturdy gate. She stepped back to admire it.

  Tink didn’t like what Vidia had suggested. But she had to admit it was a good idea—if she could pull it off.

  If Vidia’s plan worked, Tink would be the first fairy in the history of Pixie Hollow to capture the Sprinting Thistles. No one could argue she didn’t have garden talent after that!

  Suddenly, Tink caught a glimpse of something running past her. When she tried to see what it was, it disappeared into the landscape.

  Then something ran the other way.

  Again, she turned her head.

  Again, she saw nothing.

  This place was giving her the creeps. Cheese was scared, too. He cowered in the back of the corral.

  “Oh, come on—they’re just weeds!” Tink scolded the mouse, trying to make him—and herself—feel braver.

  Tink flew up and settled into the saddle on Cheese’s back. She tested a flaxen lasso, twirling it with ease. “Besides, there were only seven or eight at the most. Right?” She snapped the reins, but Cheese didn’t budge.

  “We can do this,” she said firmly, forcing him out into the meadow. They galloped over the grass, going faster and faster.

  A couple of Thistles popped up from their hiding places and ran.

  Aha!

  Tink and Cheese maneuvered around the Thistles. Tink guided them toward the corral with some twigs she had fashioned into prods.

  It worked like a charm. “All right! Hi-yah! Git! Git! Come on!”

  Two more Thistles rose from their hiding places, and they all ran into the corral. “It’s working!” Tinker Bell shouted happily. She slammed the corral’s gate, closing the Thistles in. Then she and Cheese quickly galloped back into the meadow to find more Thistles.

  Tink never noticed Vidia, who flew up and spun around the corral, creating a whirlwind that blew the gate open.

  The Thistles ran out of the gate just as Tink came galloping back, driving a new group toward the corral. “Wait, wait, wait! Wrong way!” she shouted at the runaways.

  They rushed right past her, breaking her twig-prods. Ten more Thistles popped up and joined the herd.

  By now, the pitter-patter of Thistle feet was turning into a rumble. Tink began to get a bad feeling.

  She looked back over her shoulder, and her eyes grew large with horror.

  There were hundreds of Thistles now—all galloping toward her!

  Tink tried to swallow her panic. “At least they’re all headed toward the corral,” she said to Cheese. She raised her voice and shouted at the herd. “Please file into the corral in an orderly manner!”

  CRASHHH!

  The Thistles washed over the tiny corral like a tidal wave, and the carefully constructed fence collapsed into a pile of splinters.

  Tink twirled her lasso over her head and took off after the Thistles at full gallop. “Waaaiiiit! Come baaaack!”

  But they weren’t listening. The Thistle stampede flooded down the path. Tink’s heart sank into her pom-pommed slippers when she realized where they were going. They were heading toward Springtime Square!

  “Oh, no!” Tinker Bel
l shouted. “Come on!” she cried, urging Cheese.

  Cheese leaped forward, and he and Tinker Bell pounded along the path of destruction the Thistles had left behind them.

  The Thistles thundered through Sunflower Meadow. Tinker Bell and Cheese followed close behind. As they tried to catch up to the stampede, Tink spared a glance around her.

  Light fairies and fireflies had scattered in every direction, leaping for cover and clinging to the undersides of the tall flowers. The Thistles had sheared off low-hanging petals and leaves. The fireflies were trembling, their glows winked out from fright.

  “Sorry … sorry … ’scuse me … ,” Tink said.

  The Thistles kept running. They were heading toward Lilypad Pond, where the water fairies were happily showering their lilies. The fairies had no idea what lay in store for them.

  RRRRUMBLE! The Thistles charged through Lilypad Pond, knocking lilies over and scattering water fairies in every direction. Tink and Cheese hopped over the remaining lily pads. Fairies glared at her in shocked outrage from every corner of the pond. “Sorry!” Tink cried, wishing she could stay to help clean up.

  But the Thistles were already charging toward the Flower Garden, where flower fairies watched with pride as rows of little bulbs awaited inspection.

  “Okay,” a flower fairy said to her charges. “Come on, little ones—” She broke off with a cry of alarm as the Thistles came thundering through.

  The baby bulbs scattered. Some ran for cover on their rooty feet. Others dug holes in the ground and jumped inside before the Thistles could run them over.

  Up ahead in Flutterby Forest, dozens of freshly painted ladybugs were waiting for their final spots. “We’re almost done!” an art fairy was saying. “This is the last batch.” Then she looked up at the Thistles coming right for her. “Oh, no!”

  By now, Tinker Bell couldn’t have stopped Cheese if she wanted to. The mouse was determined to stay on the trail of the Thistles. They rode through a cloud of terrified ladybugs, heading straight for Springtime Square, where the huge collection of spring supplies was waiting.