Myka Finds Her Way

by Gail Herman

  Copyright © 2009 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

  For information address Disney Press, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011-5690.

  ISBN 978-1-4231-5924-7

  Visit disneyfairies.com

  Table of Contents

  All About Fairies

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  IF YOU HEAD toward the second star on your right and fly straight on till morning, you’ll come to Never Land, a magical island where mermaids play and children never grow up.

  When you arrive, you might hear something like the tinkling of little bells. Follow that sound and you’ll find Pixie Hollow, the secret heart of Never Land.

  A great old maple tree grows in Pixie Hollow, and in it live hundreds of fairies and sparrow men. Some of them can do water magic, others can fly like the wind, and still others can speak to animals. You see, Pixie Hollow is the Never fairies’ kingdom, and each fairy who lives there has a special, extraordinary talent.

  Not far from the Home Tree, nestled in the branches of a hawthorn, is Mother Dove, the most magical creature of all. She sits on her egg, watching over the fairies, who in turn watch over her. For as long as Mother Dove’s egg stays well and whole, no one in Never Land will ever grow old.

  Once, Mother Dove’s egg was broken. But we are not telling the story of the egg here. Now it is time for Myka’s tale.…

  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 wing-beat, 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 toward 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.

  Colorful 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.

  “Our rooms are all set!” said Beck. She drew the other animal talents to her side. “Now what should we do?”

  “We’ll have to wait it out!” Myka prodded a slow-moving Tinker Bell. “Everyone! To the root cellar. We’ll be safe there. Come on, come on!”

  She herded fairies down through the trunk of the Home Tree. “Hurry! Over here!” She pointed into the dark, windowless space by the roots.

  “There,” Myka said, finally satisfied. The fairies sat huddled together in row upon row. They were all fully awake. And most looked scared. “The only thing we can do is wait.”

  So the fairies waited. Time passed, and they waited some more. Some fairies slumped against the bumpy walls and fell asleep again. A few talked quietly.

  Myka paced back and forth. She kept one ear cocked, listening. Finally, a rumbling noise made everyone sit up straight.

  “Oops!” Tink rubbed her stomach. “Just feeling a little hungry, I guess.”

  Myka nodded. “We all are,” she said. “But we shouldn’t go anywhere. The storm will be here any second.”

  Bess edged closer to Myka. Her face was pale. “You know,” she said, “Vidia is still out there.”

  Vidia, a fast-flying fairy, lived by herself in a sour-plum tree. She liked it that way. And Myka had to admit, the other fairies did, too. Vidia could be sly—a little nasty, in fact. Still, Vidia shouldn’t be out there alone. Not with a dangerous thunderstorm on the way.

  The news spread from fairy to sparrow man to fairy. “Vidia is outside!” “Vidia is in trouble!”

  Everyone turned to Myka.

  “I’ll go warn her!” Myka leaped through the door.

  “Hooray for Myka!” shouted Tink.

  Another scout talent, Trak, followed more slowly behind. “Wait, Myka!” he called. “I’ll come, too.”

  But Myka didn’t hear him. She was so determined to find Vidia, she didn’t notice Trak—or anything else.

  “Vidia!” she cried. “Vidia! There’s a thunderstorm! Stay calm! I’m coming!”

  Kicking up a puff of dirt, Myka landed by Vidia’s sour-plum tree. She loo
ked around, hands on hips. “Well,” she said, surprised. “What do you know!”

  The sky was a dazzling blue. The sun shone brightly. There was no storm in sight.

  And Vidia sat calmly on a branch outside her home.

  “Why, what’s wrong, Myka?” Vidia asked in her fake-sweet voice. “You didn’t think there was any danger, did you?” She shook her head, as if in pity for the poor mistaken scout.

  Myka didn’t say anything. Of course she had thought there was danger!

  What was going on?

  Vidia pointed toward the lagoon. Captain Hook’s pirate ship bobbed in the water. “It’s just some cannon practice, darling,” she said. “They’re about ready to fire again.”

  Boom! Crash! An ear-splitting noise filled the air. Sparks flew. Lights flashed as the cannon flared.

  It had been the pirates—not thunder and lightning. Black smoke rose like a giant storm cloud from the ship.

  Vidia was right. There’d been no danger. No danger at all.

  MYKA’S FIRST THOUGHT was to alert the others. She had to tell everyone it was safe to come out of hiding. She whirled around.

  Bump! She crashed into Trak, who had just caught up.

  Trak gave the clear sky a puzzled look. And in truth, Myka was a little puzzled, too. She’d never made such a big mistake before. Not even when she had arrived.

  Myka thought back to her very first day in Never Land. She’d landed on the topmost branch of a towering eucalyptus tree. Pixie Hollow was spread out below.

  Dozens of fairies and sparrow men had hovered in the air. They had peered at Myka anxiously. When would she make her Announcement? Which talent group would she join?

  Right away, Myka’s eyes had settled on one sparrow man, Trak. His dark green clothes blended in with the leaves. But when he fluttered up to the sky, they turned a light blue. Camouflage, Myka now knew. It hid the scout from predators while he watched over Pixie Hollow.

  Myka’s own Arrival Garment had changed color to match the eucalyptus. “I am a scout!” she’d said loudly.

  Trak had cheered. Later, he had helped her build her first lookout—right in that same eucalyptus. He had shown her how to make darts out of quills, and binoculars out of sea glass. He’d answered her questions and given her tours of Never Land. And when she had proved to be the most gifted of all the scouts, he’d patted her on the back and said, “Good job!”

  Now Myka waved for Trak to follow her back to the root cellar.

  “I was wrong,” Myka said. She wasn’t about to make excuses. “There isn’t any thunderstorm.”

  “What?” Trak said. “You made a mistake?”

  Myka shrugged. It was a little embarrassing, sure. But what would have happened if she hadn’t woken everyone up and there’d really been danger? That would have been much worse.

  “Yes, I made a mistake,” she said.

  A few minutes later, she repeated that to all the fairies and sparrow men in the root cellar. “I’d fly backward if I could,” she apologized. She spoke in a strong voice. She looked at as many fairies as possible. For a long moment, she held Queen Clarion’s gaze.

  “It was the pirates,” Myka explained. “They were firing their ship’s cannon.”

  Everyone stared at her, stunned into silence.

  Finally, Dulcie stood and dusted herself off. “Well, I guess I can start breakfast, then. Pecan waffles, anyone?”

  Fairies murmured, stood up, and stretched. One by one, they filed past Myka on their way out. She nodded at each one. She hoped they understood. She’d never made a big mistake before. And she wouldn’t make another one.

  Bess patted her gently on the shoulder. “These things happen,” she told her friend. “Once, I mixed colors to paint a sunrise and got a dull shade of brown.”

  Myka smiled a little uncomfortably. She knew that Bess wanted to make her feel better. But there was a difference between saving lives and painting pictures. That was why she was a scout. She wanted to make a difference. She wanted to protect Never Land. So she was always on alert. All day, every day.

  Even, Myka thought, when I’m eating Dulcie’s pecan waffles.

  Myka flew behind the others to the tearoom. With each flutter of her wings, she felt better.

  The whole thing lasted only a few hours, she thought. It didn’t amount to much.

  Sure, fairies liked to gossip. They’d be talking and whispering and chattering about “Myka’s Big Mistake.”

  But soon another fairy would make a mistake. A water talent might flood the kitchen. A laundry talent might shrink the clothes. Then everyone would forget about her little slipup.

  Everyone, she thought, heading for the scouting-talent table, except Trak and the other scouts.

  The scouts stopped talking as she sat down. Myka had to say something. Something to lighten the mood.

  “Good morning,” she said, as if she hadn’t just spent hours with them in the root cellar. “How is everyone this fine sunny day?”

  Sera laughed. “You know how we are. Tired.”

  Myka turned to Trak. She hated to disappoint him most of all.

  Trak gave an exaggerated yawn. “I’m planning to get extra sleep tonight, Myka…unless you’re on patrol and sound another warning.” Then he winked at her.

  Myka grinned. If Trak and the others wanted to tease her, that was perfectly okay. She was the best. And everyone knew it. “I could spy a wasp faster than you, Trak.”

  A clatter of banging pots came from the kitchen. Myka could hear the baking talents hurrying to make breakfast. Usually, they would have an hour or so to get ready. But with all that time in the root cellar…

  For a moment, Myka’s grin faded. But then Dulcie opened the swinging door to the kitchen and announced, “Breakfast is ready—in record time!”

  Serving talents carried in trays of waffles, poppy puff rolls, gooseberry jam, and tea. All around the room, fairies and sparrow men bent their heads toward their plates. They’d been up for hours now, and they were hungry.

  Myka reached for a roll. Breakfast was only a little late, she thought. Not a big deal at all.

  After eating, Myka decided to fly to her lookout posts. A while ago, she’d come up with the idea that each corner of Pixie Hollow should have its own special pinecone lookout tower. That way she’d have views in all directions.

  Myka used the lookouts every day—sometimes three or four times. Today she started at the eucalyptus tree. Tink needed metal to repair some teapots. So Myka was searching for a copper half-penny. The pirates were always losing them from holes in their pockets.

  Scouting duties weren’t always about hawks and wasps and snakes. Myka knew that as well as any scout. Sometimes a scout used her talent for something less…exciting.

  Still, Myka wanted to do a midmorning patrol. She settled in her tower. She breathed deeply. The leaves smelled like the medicine that Clara, a nursing talent, gave for a cough. But Myka liked it anyway.

  She gazed into the distance, at Torth Mountain. All was peaceful.

  Turning to face Pixie Hollow, Myka took note of the fairies and sparrow men. They flew here and there, herding butterflies, delivering fairy dust. Bess scurried along, a sheet of leaf paper tucked under her arm. Beck chattered with a chipmunk. All was in order.

  Wait a minute! Myka squinted. In a corner of the meadow…where caterpillars grazed…a strange shape settled close to the ground.

  Myka stared harder. The shape shifted. The caterpillars backed away, afraid.

  What was it?

  Myka flew closer to the field. She hovered in the air. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Not yet.

  The shape was fuzzy, orange, and lumpy. It wriggled this way and that. “Waaah, kew! Waaah, kew!” it moaned. Suddenly, it shuddered. “Waaah, kew!”

  What kind of creature was it?

  The caterpillars inched away as fast as they could. By now, they were at the edge of the meadow. They hurried to hide in the surrounding trees.

  My
ka held up her reed whistle, ready to sound an alarm. Then the creature lifted itself off the ground.

  “Oh, hi, Myka.”

  The strange beast knew her name! And the voice sounded familiar. It sounded almost like…

  The creature threw off its orange covering.

  “Nettle!” Myka cried. “It’s you!”

  “You couldn’t tell?” Nettle, who was a caterpillar-shearing talent, yawned. “I was just herding the caterpillars along.” She carefully folded the fuzzy blanket. “You know,” she told Myka, “this blanket was woven from the softest hairs of woolly-bear caterpillars.”

  At the sound of “woolly-bear,” the caterpillars—woolly-bear ones, Myka realized—scuttled more quickly.

  “They don’t like it when I clip their fuzz,” Nettle confided to Myka. “They try to run away.” She yawned again. “Shearing is hard work.”

  Myka laughed. “You weren’t working very hard just now.”

  “Well, I have to gather my strength.” Nettle’s eyes narrowed. “Were you scouting around, checking on me? Did that new shearer put you up to it?”

  “Of course not!” Myka protested. Spying on other fairies? No self-respecting scout would ever do that! Sometimes, though, it was bound to happen by accident. Once, she’d discovered two harvest talents, Pluck and Pell, hiding under a weeping willow tree. They were eating the berries they were supposed to be collecting.

  Back then, she’d known right away it was Pluck and Pell. She didn’t think they were a two-headed berry-eating monster. This time, though, she’d had no clue the mysterious creature was only Nettle.

  For the rest of the day, Myka searched for Tink’s half-penny and patrolled Pixie Hollow. She didn’t see anything unusual. And she didn’t find a single coin.

  Myka always finished assignments.

  A fairy would ask her to look for something. And she’d find it. A button, a coin, a certain kind of pebble. Her eyesight was so sharp, she could pick out any object, anytime.

  Not today.

  But she’d found so many coins in the past. There probably weren’t any around right now. That was all. She’d try again later. She’d be sure to find one then.