Disney Fairies: Beck Beyond the Sea

by Kimberly Morris

  Whizzzzz!

  Beck felt something slice through the air beneath them.

  Another series of clucks warned her that the flock was about to turn again. This time, the flock dropped through the air.

  Whizzzzz!

  Something cold sliced through the air overhead.

  “What is that?” Beck asked.

  But Igo didn’t answer. There were no cheeps or birdcalls of any kind. The air was tense and silent except for the screaming noise of the moving objects that seemed to come out of nowhere.

  Every bird was on high alert for signals from their leader.

  Suddenly, they flew into air that was dark and freezing cold.

  Now Beck understood why the flock leader had tested her skills. The flock zigzagged through the sky. With each move, they just missed being hit by something hurtling through the sky. Finally, Beck realized that they were dodging shards of flying ice. Each shard was huge, sharp, and deadly.

  The wind was strong. But the flock flew on and on. It was so dark now that Beck could see only the tail of the bird ahead. It took every bit of flying skill she had to stay with the flock.

  Whizzz! Zoooom! Phhhhheewww!

  Beck’s heart thundered in her chest. But she wasn’t afraid. She had complete faith in the flock leader…and in herself. Her ability to stay in formation would keep her—and the birds around her—safe.

  Finally, they left the dark and icy cloud. Little by little, the air turned warmer. Beck could feel the flock begin to relax.

  Igo let out a series of relieved peeps. “That was a sheet-ice storm. I hate those. They scare me to death.”

  Beck couldn’t help smiling. She wasn’t scared. She was ready for the next adventure.

  BECK! BECK! Where are you?

  Beck jerked awake. These days, she slept like a bird, nestled in the notch of a tree with her head tucked beneath her arm.

  Beck!

  A voice was calling out to her. Was it Igo? No. Her little blue and yellow friend slept peacefully beside her. She saw the tip of his beak peeking out from under his velvety wing.

  Beck! Beck! Where are you?

  Was it the sand? The breeze? Where was it coming from?

  Beck! Beck!

  She felt a great trembling in her chest—and suddenly she understood. She wasn’t hearing the voice. She was feeling the voice. And it was coming from inside her very own heart.

  It was a voice she knew and loved. It was the voice of Mother Dove.

  Beck blinked her eyes. The sun was coming up in the distance. The Explorer Birds began to wake up and start their morning activities. Some of the birds bathed in the morning dew. Some of them breakfasted on berries and acorns. They laughed and joked. All of them were carefree and happy.

  The voice in Beck’s heart was growing stronger, more insistent. Mother Dove was trying to tell her something. Beck closed her eyes, ready now to listen.

  “Ohhhhhh!” she moaned. A wave of pain sent her reeling off the branch. She opened her wings and made a safe landing. But the pain had given her such a shock, she could hardly stand.

  Igo came fluttering to join her. “Beck! What’s the matter? What is it?”

  Beck took some deep breaths. She tried to calm herself. “Something is wrong. Something is wrong with Mother Dove. I have to go home, Igo.”

  “Why?” her new friend squawked. “I thought you were happy with us.”

  “I have been,” Beck answered. “But Mother Dove needs me. She’s in pain. And she’s afraid. I have to go. I have to go right away. Tell the others for me, will you?”

  “Don’t you want to say good-bye?” Igo asked.

  Beck shook her head. “No. I’m tired of good-byes. Just tell them…tell them…thank you for a wonderful adventure.”

  She leaned forward and kissed Igo on the tip of his beak.

  Then she plunged into the air, heading back toward Pixie Hollow.

  Beck flew all day and all night. Whenever her wings faltered, she sprinkled herself with dust. She was exhausted, but she had to get home.

  Being alone gave her a chance to think about the messages she had received. She knew now what had caused Mother Dove’s moment of fear and pain. Someone had plucked one of her magic feathers.

  Vidia!

  How could I have been so foolish? she wondered. Why didn’t I see the truth? No wonder Vidia was so eager to help me leave! She knew I took special care of Mother Dove. With me out of the way, she had a perfect shot to pluck a feather.

  Beck felt another kind of pain—shame. Vidia’s extra-powerful fairy dust was made from feathers stolen from Mother Dove. How could Beck ever have agreed to use Vidia’s dust? Now the damage was done, though. Beck had to use it—like it or not.

  She reached for the sack in her tunic. It still felt heavy and full. That was good. She was going to need every speck.

  Beck looked down. She was crossing an ocean. It wasn’t the Striped Sea, with its friendly-looking, colorful waves. It was the dark, dangerous ocean that divided Never Land from the rest of the world.

  The sight made her dizzy. She realized that her dust was wearing out. She reached into the sack for another handful of dust, and her fingertips felt something odd. Down in the bottom of the sack, something was mixed with the dust.

  Gravel!

  Beck gasped. No wonder the sack was so heavy. It wasn’t full of dust. It had been weighted with tiny pieces of rock to make it seem fuller than it was.

  Vidia had said, There’s enough dust here to take you to the other side of the world and back!

  Enough to take her to the other side of the world? Yes. But not nearly enough to get back.

  Beck’s shock gave way to despair. Vidia had tricked her even more cleverly than Beck had realized. She didn’t want Beck gone for a while. She wanted her gone for good.

  Well, it wasn’t going to work. Beck reached into the sack to find out exactly how much dust was left. If there was just enough to get her to the end of the ocean, she would run—not walk—every step of the way back. But Beck’s hands were trembling. When she tried to reach into the sack, she dropped it!

  “No!” she yelled.

  The sack fell down, down, down, into the dark water.

  Beck’s heart lurched with fear. How would she get back now? Her head spun. Her shoulders ached, and her arms were limp with fatigue. She had been flying for hours, and still the ocean stretched out beneath her. I can’t keep going, she thought. I can’t.

  She barely managed to stay above the waves. She was so close to the water, she could feel the ocean spray on her wings. They were soaking up moisture and growing heavy. It was becoming impossible to fly.

  Lower and lower she dropped. Just as the weight of her wings was about to drag her under the water, she heard something shriek. A seagull! He was bearing down on her with his beak open.

  “I’m not a fish!” Beck shouted. She tried to be heard over the crashing waves. “I’m not a fish! I’m not a—yeooowww!”

  The seagull’s beak snapped at her. It jerked her up just before the water closed over her.

  THE SEAGULL CARRIED Beck high into the air. She twisted frantically in the grip of his beak.

  “Stop wriggling! I’m not trying to eat you,” the seagull cawed (though he was hard to understand since his mouth was full—of Beck). “I’ve been on the lookout for you all night. All the gulls have.”

  Beck went limp. She was too stunned to struggle anymore. “You have?”

  “Yes! We were told you would be traveling this way. Heard you might have some trouble crossing the ocean.”

  “How? Who told you?”

  “Well, the Explorer Birds told the forest birds. And the forest birds told the mountain birds. The mountain birds told the desert birds. And the desert birds told us. Say, you’re awfully wet. Let me see if I can get some of that water out of your wings.” The seagull shook Beck like a rag. “There! Better?”

  “Much better,” Beck agreed after her ears stopped ringing. Even though she was
out of dust—and didn’t much enjoy being shaken like a rag—she couldn’t help feeling safer with dry wings.

  “Land ho!” cackled the gull. He began gliding downward.

  A few moments later, he dropped Beck on the shore of Never Land. She hit the ground with a thump.

  She didn’t complain, though. She was too grateful to be safely across the water.

  A gray rabbit hopped out from behind some brush. “I thought you’d never get here,” he said. “I’ve been worried sick. Are you Beck?”

  Beck nodded.

  The rabbit hunched down. “Climb up. We’re late.”

  The gull gave Beck a nod. “Go on. Hurry.”

  Beck climbed onto the back of the gray rabbit.

  “You can hang on to my ears. I don’t mind,” said the rabbit.

  “Oh, no!” Beck said. “I couldn’t.”

  “Have you ever ridden a rabbit before?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so,” he said. And with that, he bounded forward.

  Beck rocked dangerously back and forth, then grabbed for his ears. “Well,” she said, hanging on for dear life, “if you really don’t mind…”

  After what felt like hours of leaping, the rabbit screeched to a halt. The stop was so sudden, Beck lost her grip on his ears. She tumbled forward over his head.

  “I’m so sorry.” The rabbit leaned down. His wiggling pink nose checked her for damage. “I should have warned you that I was going to stop. But I get forgetful when I’m nervous.”

  “Nervous about what?” Beck asked.

  “No need to be nervous,” said a silken voice.

  The rabbit’s quivering nose froze. “That’s what,” he whispered.

  A large fox stepped toward them. Beck froze, too. Foxes could be dangerous. Especially if they were hungry.

  The fox sat back on her haunches and gave them both a smile. “You can trust me. I’ve sworn on Mother Dove’s egg that I will not harm either one of you. I’m going to take you on the last part of your journey,” she said to Beck.

  “They told me to tell you that you can trust her,” the rabbit whispered.

  “Who?” Beck whispered back.

  “Can’t remember. I told you I get forgetful when I’m nervous. Well, good luck!” And with that, the rabbit scampered away as fast as his legs could carry him.

  Now, riding a fox is not at all like riding a rabbit. At first, Beck was so frightened, she didn’t even notice the fox’s smooth gait. She gingerly held on to the fox’s ruff. She wouldn’t have touched her ears for a million pounds of fairy dust.

  “No need to be scared,” the fox said as they slid through the forest. “I would never hurt an animal-talent fairy.”

  “Why not?” Beck asked. She was too nervous to try to read the fox’s thoughts.

  “An animal-talent fairy saved my cubs once during a flood,” the fox answered. “I sent word to Mother Dove that if an animal-talent fairy ever needed me, I would be there to help.”

  “Mother Dove knows I’m coming?” Beck gasped.

  “Of course,” the fox answered.

  Just ahead, a glimmer of sunlight appeared between the trees of the dark forest. It was Pixie Hollow! Two fairies hovered at the edge. They nervously peered into the dark forest.

  “Tink! Terence!” Beck jumped off the fox’s back and ran as fast as she could the rest of the way. Her friends landed on the ground and opened their arms. Beck threw herself into their joyful embrace.

  “HELLO!” they shouted. “WELCOME HOME!”

  BECK HAD GROWN CLEVER during her travels. Her first question was “Who else knows I’m here?”

  “No one except Mother Dove and the animal-talent fairies,” Tink answered.

  “Let’s keep it that way for now,” Beck said. “How is Mother Dove?”

  Tink shook her head. “Fine, so far. But someone has plucked two feathers from her.”

  “Two feathers!” Beck wailed. “But how?”

  “Nobody knows. The first time it happened, Queen Clarion posted scouts in every tree around the hawthorn. No one could fly near the nest without being spotted. But somehow…they did.”

  Beck pressed her lips together tightly. “I don’t know how she’s doing it, but I do know who is doing it. And I’m going to catch her red-handed.”

  Beck’s reunion with Mother Dove was secret.

  No one in Pixie Hollow ever knew what they said to each other. But for years afterward, everyone talked about how Mother Dove’s happiness created a sense of peace in Pixie Hollow that made the fairies extra kind for days.

  But that first night, when Beck hid in Mother Dove’s nest and snuggled next to her, Beck was angry and afraid. She thought she knew who was stealing Mother Dove’s feathers. But what if she was wrong? What if they never caught the feather thief? Mother Dove slept happily, knowing that Beck was back at her side. But Beck had one eye open, waiting.

  She didn’t have to wait long. She heard an almost silent sound. Someone was coming toward the nest. And she wasn’t flying—she was climbing.

  Beck watched as a hand reached up and grabbed the side of the nest. Vidia pulled herself over the edge. She leaned forward to pluck one of Mother Dove’s feathers.

  Beck made her move. She flew at Vidia so fiercely that Vidia let out a startled scream and fell backward out of the nest. She fluttered her wings and caught her balance. But before she could escape, Beck had called the scouts.

  They came from every side and surrounded Vidia.

  “I was right. It was you,” Beck said, pointing at the fast-flying fairy.

  “But how?” the others asked. “How did she get so close?”

  Beck flew down and landed on the ground. She walked around the hawthorn, looking for something. She leaned over and lifted a small stone. Under it was a dark hole. “The animal-talent tunnels,” Beck said. “Vidia must have found out how to get to the tree from underground. She knew you would be expecting her to fly. So she came below the ground, climbed the tree, and stole two feathers.”

  Vidia shrugged. “So you caught me trying to take one tonight. But I didn’t steal the other two feathers.”

  “Then who did?” asked a scout.

  “Beck!” declared Vidia.

  “What!” Beck cried.

  “You did, and now you’re trying to blame it on me.”

  Beck couldn’t think of anything to say. “Why would I steal feathers?” she managed to squeak.

  “Because you wanted more than your fair share of dust. You wanted to be a fast-flying-talent fairy. You wanted to travel. You knew you could steal the feathers and I would be blamed. Because I get blamed for everything. But not this time, sweetie.”

  More fairies had shown up. Beck noticed they were all looking at her strangely.

  “She did want to fly faster,” a sparrow man said.

  “And she sure tried everything else,” a cooking-talent fairy pointed out. “Remember the wing extenders?”

  “Remember the sleigh?” Twire said with a gasp.

  Suddenly, everyone was talking at once. To her horror, Beck realized that she did look guilty. This was terrible. Beck had risked everything to come back and catch the feather thief. Only now everybody thought the feather thief was Beck.

  She took a deep breath and shook her head. She wasn’t shy-and-frightened little Beck anymore. She had seen the world. She had flown across the Striped Sea and talked to the Roughtongue sand. She had dangled from the beak of a seagull, bucked along on the back of a rabbit, and traveled through the darkest part of the forest with a she-fox.

  So why was she letting Vidia push her around?

  Enough already. “Quiet!” Beck ordered.

  Every fairy fell silent.

  Beck pointed at Vidia. “I know that you stole the feathers. You gave me a velvet sack full of dust. You said it was enough dust to fly to the other side of the world and back. But you lied. You weighted the sack with gravel. You hoped I’d never come back so you would be free to keep ste
aling feathers.”

  Vidia smirked. “Easy to say. Hard to prove.”

  “I know how you can prove you’re innocent,” Terence said to Beck. “Show us the sack.”

  “Yes. Yes. Show us the sack,” the other fairies echoed.

  Beck’s heart sank. The sack was probably at the bottom of the ocean. She felt a lump rising in her throat. If she said she dropped it in the ocean, no one would believe her.

  A sudden noise overhead drew everyone’s attention to the sky. Winged creatures of all sizes and shapes were coming to Pixie Hollow from every direction.

  FLOCKS OF BIRDS landed in the trees and bushes. Explorer Birds, gulls, pelicans, and sparrows. Toucans, parakeets, falcons, woodpeckers, and mockingbirds.

  The noise was deafening. Once they all had landed, a signal from an ancient parrot kept them quiet. A pelican opened his bill. The parrot reached in and removed a small wet velvet sack.

  Beck gasped. “That’s the sack Vidia gave me. How did you find it?”

  The parrot dropped the sack and gave an animated series of squawks.

  Fawn stepped forward and offered to translate for the non-animal-talent fairies. “He says the sack was caught by a passing seagull. The gull gave it to the pelican, who’d heard about the fairy who dropped it from another seagull, who had talked to a forest bird, who had talked to a desert bird, who had talked to a mountain bird. When we figured out that this belonged to the fairy who flew across Never Land with the Explorer Birds, we knew we had to bring it back.”

  Vidia lifted her chin. “You can’t prove that belongs to me.”

  Terence lifted the sack and studied it. “I think we can. It seems to have your name on it.” The fairies surged around Terence to look at the sack.

  Suddenly, several fairies stepped back. Queen Clarion had arrived.

  Queen Clarion took the sack from Terence and fingered the stitched name. “This sack does belong to Vidia. I know because I gave it to her a long time ago, back when she was still a friend. I had hoped she would stay a friend.”