by Kiki Thorpe
The noise of the balloon crashing through the leaves startled the possums. They drew back just enough to make a path. Tink flew out of the tree and kept on going.
High above the forest, Tink stopped. She climbed into the basket and huddled there, shaking. Flaring her glow had used up all her energy.
Tink drifted in the balloon. She didn’t care where the breeze took her, as long as it was away from the oak tree. But luck was once again on her side. When she checked the compass, she saw she was still headed north.
For the rest of the night, Tink pinched herself to stay awake. She was afraid to doze off again. When the wind changed direction, she got out and flew. Always she followed the compass needle to stay on course.
At last she saw a thin red glow on the horizon. Tink guided the carrier down to the edge of a small clearing. She tied the cord to a tree root to anchor it.
Under the shelter of a wild rosebush, she unrolled her blanket. She plucked a blossom to use as a pillow and curled up on a leaf.
Finally, she slept.
THE SUN HAD been up for hours when Tink opened her eyes. She heard the sound of waves breaking on a beach.
I must be near the ocean, she thought sleepily.
In an instant, she was wide-awake. The sound could mean only one thing. She had reached the Nothern Shore!
But how was that possible? Tink wondered. Surely the Northern Shore was still at least a day’s flight away. She darted up into the air, until she could see over the tops of the trees. Blue-green water shimmered in the distance.
“The ocean!” cried Tink.
She raced back to her camp and checked the compass needle. It pointed toward the water. She did a joyful little dance. She had made it to the Northern Shore!
Quickly, she ate a dried blueberry and washed it down with water from the canteen. Then she packed everything into the basket and took off through the forest.
The sound of the surf grew louder. Up ahead, she caught glimpses of blue sky between the trees.
“Almost there!”
She emerged into sunlight. For a moment, she hovered, blinking. After the shady forest, the brightness was blinding. Over the splash of the waves, she could hear a different noise, like a melody.
It sounds as if someone is singing, thought Tink.
As her eyes got used to the light, Tink looked around. Soft white sand stretched a mile in each direction. Blue water gently lapped the shore. Coconut palms rustled in the breeze.
Tink thought, This beach seems familiar….
Then she saw it. Straight out at sea, a large seaweed-covered rock rose from the water. A lovely woman sat on top. Her long tail with glistening scales curled down one side of the rock.
Tink’s heart sank. The creature on the rock was a mermaid. And the song she heard was a mermaid’s song. She hadn’t reached the Northern Shore at all. This was Mermaid Lagoon, less than an hour’s flight from Pixie Hollow.
Tink flew circles of fury. “But how?” she wailed. She had checked the compass over and over again. Always she’d gone north, in the direction the needle pointed. So how had she come to Mermaid Lagoon? Everyone in Never Land knew that it was on the opposite side of the island—
Tink dropped to the ground. How could she have been so stupid? Of course, a compass would be worthless on Never Land. For although a compass always pointed north, the island turned in whatever direction it wanted. Unlike most islands, Never Land floated freely in the ocean.
The night before, as Tink had flown doggedly north, Never Land had turned itself around. So she had ended up back where she’d started.
“Northern Shore. What a stupid name!” Tink growled. “Whoever thought it up should be pinched black and blue. And as for this piece of junk—”
In a fit of rage, Tink hauled the compass out to sea and threw it in. With a splash, it vanished beneath the waves.
Tink flew back to shore and flung herself down on the sand. She shook off the urge to cry.
“I won’t give up,” she told herself. “I’ll get to the Northern Shore if I have to fly for a week.”
Tink was like the pots she fixed—she had a will made of iron. She had never failed before. And she wouldn’t this time, either.
Her mind made up, Tink stood and reached for the carrier cord. But it wasn’t there. She spun around. The carrier was nowhere in sight.
Looking up, she spotted it high in the sky. In her rage over the compass, she had forgotten to tie it down. As Tink watched, the carrier drifted over the top of a towering palm tree and was gone.
Tink clutched her head in horror. She’d lost an entire balloon carrier! What would the queen say if she knew? What would Terence think?
But the carrier wasn’t all she’d lost. Her food was gone, and so was her water. She’d have to find her own from here on. Luckily, she had kept her fairy dust with her. It was in a pouch on her belt. Tink checked her supply. She figured she had four days’ worth, at least.
Now she was more determined than ever to find the dust from the Pixie Dust Tree. She had to prove that her journey had been worth it.
She set off flying through the woods. It was easier traveling by day. She knew that as long as she kept Torth Mountain on her right, she was headed the right way.
Tink flew all morning. When her shoulders ached too much to go on, she stopped beside a small spring. She took a long drink of cool water. Then she sat back to rest.
She thought about the journey ahead. She would have to pass through miles of forest. Dark, shadowy forest, Tink thought with a shiver, where I could run into a tree snake or an owl or some other scary creature. A monster that could snap a fairy up in a single bite . . .
Tink shook her head. What was wrong with her? She had never been afraid of the forest before. Back in the days of Peter Pan, she had lived for adventures like this.
But so many things had gone wrong this time—the possums, the compass, the balloon carrier. She had made many mistakes. Maybe she had been wrong to come on this journey by herself.
Tink stood and brushed away the thought. “I just need something to eat,” she told herself. “After a snack, I’ll feel fit as a fiddlehead fern again.”
Downstream, she spotted a gooseberry bush heavy with plump glossy berries. She flew over to it.
Tink was wrestling with a gooseberry, trying to tug it from its stem, when she suddenly had the feeling she was being watched.
She dropped the berry and ducked into the bush. Her encounter with the possums was fresh in her mind. She scanned the forest. Not a single leaf moved. Even the air was still. There was nothing—
No, wait! There! A pair of fox ears poked up from behind a hollow log.
Tink gasped. A fox would eat a fairy if it was hungry enough. Her muscles tensed. She prepared to dart away.
The ears lifted. But they weren’t attached to a fox. Beneath them was the face of a boy.
“Slightly!” Tink cried.
Slightly held his finger to his lips. But it was too late. There was a flash of green as something swooped down from above.
And before them stood Peter Pan.
TINK GRINNED. EVEN though they’d had their ups and downs, she was always glad to see Peter. She came out from the bush and flew to meet him.
“Tink!” Peter exclaimed. “You’re just in time.” It had been weeks since they’d last seen each other, but Peter acted as if Tink had been away for minutes. “I was about to find Slightly,” he told her.
“Were not!” came the voice from behind the log. “At least, not until Tink gave me away.” Slightly poked his head up to scowl at Tink.
Peter reached over and tapped Slightly on the head. “And now you’re it.”
At the word “it,” there was a rustle in the bushes. Cubby, Nibs, and the Twins came out from their hiding places.
Tink looked over the boys in their ragged animal-fur suits. Someone was missing.
“Where’s Tootles?” she asked Peter.
Peter shrugged. “Sometimes he falls
asleep.” He jumped onto a tree branch and leaned out past the leaves. “Tootles! Tootles, come out!” he called.
There was no reply.
“Tootles! Tootles!” the Lost Boys called. But still they heard nothing.
Suddenly, one of the Twins cried out. “Peter, look! Tootles’s footprints go to here. Then they disappear!”
Peter leaped down to study the tracks. He whistled low. “Disappeared right into thin air. There’s only one thing that could have happened.”
The boys stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Tootles has been kidnapped!” Peter declared.
Tink gasped. She was not overly fond of Tootles. He had always tried to catch her and stuff her into his pockets. But—kidnapped!
Peter turned to the Lost Boys. “Men, we must rescue Tootles. But it may be dangerous.” His eyes twinkled. This was just the sort of adventure he adored. “Only the bravest among you may go with me,” he told the boys.
The Lost Boys all wanted to be the bravest. They scrambled to line up behind him.
Tink hesitated. Peter looked back at her. “Aren’t you coming, Tink?”
He smiled his reckless smile. It suddenly seemed as if no time had passed since her days with Peter Pan. Swept up in the excitement, Tink forgot all about her search for the pixie dust.
“Of course I’m coming!” she cried.
“Then let’s go!” said Peter.
They set off marching through the forest. Tink flew in front. They hadn’t gone far, though, when she cried out. Peter stopped short. The boys behind him bumped into each other.
Tink flew down and landed next to a paw print in the mud.
“Tracks! Good job, Tink,” Peter said. He knelt beside her to look at the track. “It belongs to a tiger. A big one, from the look of it!”
They found another paw print not far off. Tink, Peter, and the boys followed the tracks. They circled right back to the place where Tootles’s tracks ended.
“Oh, no.” Suddenly, Tink figured out what had happened. She looked at Peter, her eyes wide.
Peter shook his head sadly. “Poor Tootles has been eaten by a tiger.”
The Twins’ mouths fell open at the same time. Cubby turned as pale as a fish’s belly. All the boys stared at Peter.
“Bow your heads, fellas,” Peter instructed. “Poor old Tootles.”
With loud sniffles the Lost Boys lowered their heads. Tink landed on Peter’s shoulder and solemnly dimmed her glow.
Peter began a little speech. “We’ll never forget Tootles. He was a deadeye with a slingshot.”
“Aye,” said Cubby, “except when he missed.”
Peter went on. “Our friend Tootles was a—”
Rrrrow! Suddenly, they heard a loud growl above them.
“The tiger!” Cubby shrieked. He tried to run, but he tripped over the Twins. All three landed in a heap.
Tink flew up into the tree branches. She began to laugh. “That’s no tiger,” she said. “It’s Tootles!”
The growl came again. Now everyone could tell it wasn’t a tiger’s roar. It was only Tootles’s hungry stomach.
“What are you doing?” Peter asked him.
Tootles looked down from the rope that held him. “Hiding,” he replied. “I think I found the best hiding spot.”
A few days before, Peter and the Lost Boys had rigged the trap, hoping to catch a tiger. Tootles had stumbled into it by mistake when he was looking for a hiding place.
The boys weren’t fooled. “Ha-ha!” Slightly laughed. “Tootles got caught in a tiger trap! Tootles got caught in a tiger trap!”
The other boys took up the cry. “Tootles got caught in a tiger trap!”
Peter flew up to the tree branch. He drew his knife to cut down the rope. As he did, they heard a low, deep growl. All heads swiveled to look at Tootles.
“Wasn’t me,” Tootles said with a shrug.
“The tiger!” Peter cried, just as a huge beast sprang from the bushes.
Up in the air, Tootles, Peter, and Tink were safe. But the tiger was headed straight for the other Lost Boys.
Without thinking, Tink snatched her sack of fairy dust and turned it upside down over them. “Fly!” she yelled.
They didn’t waste a second. The Lost Boys leaped into the air. They just missed being caught in the tiger’s claws.
The boys perched in the branches of the surrounding trees. On the ground, the tiger prowled from trunk to trunk. It twitched its tail and watched them with yellow eyes. But they were out of its reach.
“Can’t catch us!” Peter cried at the tiger.
“Nyah, nyah! Can’t catch us, tiger!” the other boys echoed. They snatched small fruits from the branches around them and threw them at the big cat.
Annoyed, the tiger finally slunk away. When they were sure it was gone, Peter cut Tootles down.
Slightly puffed up his chest. “We sure showed that tiger!” he declared.
“Nah! If it wasn’t for Tink, you’d have been his dinner,” Peter told him.
The boys knew it was true. They all turned to look at Tink. “Hooray for Tinker Bell!” they cheered. Tink’s glow turned pink as she blushed.
“She should get an award for bravery,” Peter said. He fished around in his pocket. At last he came up with a golden bead the size of a small pea. He threaded a piece of grass through it and hung it around Tink’s neck.
“We present this medal to Tinker Bell,” he announced, “the best and bravest fairy in Never Land.”
Tink’s heart swelled. Why had she ever doubted herself? She was the best and bravest fairy. And she could still prove it!
“Peter, I have to fly to the Northern Shore,” she said. “Can you tell me how far it is?”
“Maybe a half day’s flight,” Peter replied. “Aw, Tink, don’t you want to stick around and play?”
Tink smiled and checked the bag of fairy dust. There was still a little left in the bottom. Enough to take her the rest of the way.
“I’ll see you again soon,” she told Peter. She waved to the Lost Boys. Then, clutching her medal to her chest, she set out once again for the Northern Shore.
BY SUNSET, TINK was weary from flying. But her spirits were high. The wind had grown chilly, and she smelled salt in the air. She felt sure she was close to the Northern Shore.
The sky faded from purple to black. The wind blew harder and grew colder still. It numbed her ears and her hands. Tink thought longingly of the sweater she’d lost in the balloon carrier.
A fat, round moon rose. Back in Pixie Hollow, the Fairy Dance would be starting. Tink imagined her friends gathering in the fairy circle, wearing their finest clothes. She could almost hear the music and the laughter. For a moment, she wished she were there.
But she couldn’t give up now.
She went over a crest. Ahead, the ground dropped away into ocean. Waves pounded the rocks on the shore.
The Northern Shore! Tink marveled. I made it! I made it!
There could be no doubt about it this time. A glowing silver cloud hovered in the air, just above the water. It’s the cloud of pixie dust, Tink thought. Just like in Tor’s story.
Tink beat the air with her wings. Within moments, she was skimming the water. The sound of the surf roared in her ears. Spray from the crashing waves soaked her from head to toe.
But where was the pixie dust?
She hovered, looking this way and that. But the air was misty and damp. She couldn’t see far. Her wings began to grow heavy with the salt spray.
Looking down, she saw the water churning against the rocks below. A cold jolt of fear shot through her. If she fell, she would be swallowed by the waves.
Quickly, Tink darted back to shore. She found a dry nook high on the side of a rock. From her spot, she once again looked for the pixie dust. There it was!
Just then, a cloud passed across the moon. Before Tink’s eyes, the pixie dust changed. It no longer seemed to glow. And it wasn’t really silver; it was . . .
“It’s no
thing but mist!” Tink’s voice trembled. What she had taken for a cloud of pixie dust was only spray from the surf, shining in the moonlight.
That couldn’t be right. Surely she was in the wrong spot. There had to be another cloud—the real cloud of pixie dust. There had to!
Tink scoured the coastline with her eyes. But there wasn’t a cloud to be seen.
“I came all this way for nothing,” she said. “I…I failed.”
Her legs wobbled. She had to clutch the side of the rock to keep from falling. She had never failed before. Not like this.
Finally, she recovered enough to stand. She ripped the medal Peter had given her from her neck and eyed it scornfully.
“Best,” she sneered. “I’m not the best at anything.”
She didn’t even have the energy to throw it. Tink opened her hand and let it fall. The bead bounced once off the side of the rock and sank into the ocean.
Tink flew slowly back through the forest toward Pixie Hollow. When she became too tired to go on, she found a large flower and curled up in its petals for a few minutes of rest. But she never slept. Thoughts swirled through her mind like leaves caught in a whirlpool.
After all her effort, she had nothing to give Terence. “He will never want to be my friend now,” Tink murmured.
She knew she should fly quickly. She was running low on fairy dust. If it ran out, she might never make it back home. But Tink was in no hurry. What did she have to look forward to?
As Tink pondered this, she heard a crashing sound not far away. It was followed by a thud.
Someone groaned, “Oh, no.”
Tink darted around a fig tree and through a tangle of vines. She spotted a big hole in the ground. She crept to the edge and peeped in.
There was Tootles staring back at her.
“Tink!” he cried happily.
“What are you doing down there?” asked Tink.
“Oh.” Tootles blushed. “I fell into another trap. We dug this one last week. Peter said we’d catch a bear. Only, it looks like we caught me instead.”