Prilla and the Butterfly Lie

by Kitty Richards

  “Whatever suits you,” said Pluck. Then she grinned at Prilla. “Those butterflies are something else, aren’t they?” she said. “I have so much respect for the butterfly talents. We were all so happy when you volunteered!”

  She leaned over and gave Prilla a playful tap on the shoulder. Prilla swung gently from side to side. “You are one brave fairy!” Pluck said.

  Prilla’s eyes widened. Brave? What did Pluck mean? But to ask would be the same as saying, “I have no idea what you are talking about. And that’s because I told a lie to Nettle—and to the queen!” So Prilla just laughed uneasily. She mumbled a farewell. And Pluck, with one backward glance at Prilla, finally took off.

  A short while later, Prilla was safely on the ground. She had finally decided to undo the belt and hope that she could start flying before she hit the ground. Luckily, she was quite high up, and this wasn’t a problem.

  That was a close one! Prilla thought.

  She would have to be more careful in the future.

  Now she needed to find the butterflies again. Where could they have gone? Prilla decided to visit Lily’s garden. All those fruits and flowers would be certain to attract butterflies—or so she thought.

  But as she flew over the garden, Prilla saw that she was wrong. There wasn’t a butterfly to be seen.

  Lily saw Prilla hovering overhead. She put down her hoe and waved Prilla over. Prilla cupped her hands around her mouth and called down to her friend, “I can’t stop now! I’ll be back later!”

  Lily nodded and went back to work. How Prilla envied Lily. She got to spend her day doing what she loved most!

  Prilla took a sharp turn and headed to Marigold Meadow. She saw many fat honeybees but not a single butterfly. Next she went to the spot where the sweetest bunch of clover in all of Pixie Hollow grew. But there were no butterflies there, either.

  Puzzled, Prilla landed and began to search more slowly. She peeked inside hollow logs. At one, she startled a chipmunk family. They chattered at her angrily. She lifted cabbage leaves to search underneath them. But she found only snails, which quickly scooted into their shells. She looked inside cool dark caves. She even searched among the long grasses that grew near the shoreline. She saw a crab shell and a piece of pretty blue beach glass. But there wasn’t a single butterfly to be found.

  Prilla sat down and leaned against the hollow shell. It’s almost as if they’re hiding from me, she thought. Then she laughed. What a silly idea!

  She closed her eyes for a split second. Without even thinking about it, Prilla blinked over to the mainland.

  What fun! She was in a nursery school class with dozens of children. She flew into a castle that a girl was building out of blocks. Prilla waved to the girl from a turret. Then she flew over to two boys who were each pulling on one end of a teddy bear. Prilla got their attention by doing loop-de-loops in the air. The teddy bear fell to the ground, completely forgotten.

  Prilla was heading over to the doll corner when she felt someone shaking her shoulder.

  “Prilla, are you okay?” a familiar voice asked.

  PRILLA LOOKED AROUND. She was sitting on the ground. Her hands were behind her. And—Oh dear, Prilla thought— Pluck was back. She was looking at Prilla anxiously.

  “Are you okay?” Pluck asked again. Her brow wrinkled in concern. “Oh— were you blinking to the mainland? Did I bother you?”

  Prilla shook her head. “It’s fine,” she said.

  “I found the blackberries!” Pluck said proudly. She held up a basket filled to the brim with three berries. “Would you like one?”

  Prilla nodded. Pluck held out a big juicy berry. But as Prilla tried to reach for it, she discovered something very odd indeed. She couldn’t move her hands. They were stuck together behind her back!

  This is strange, Prilla thought. She struggled mightily. Her hands wouldn’t budge. Could they be tied together? she wondered. But how? And why?

  Pluck continued to hold out the berry. An annoyed frown started to form on her face. Prilla couldn’t explain her predicament to Pluck, since she herself had no idea what was going on. But she knew that it would be rude not to take a bite of the berry since she had asked for it. Not knowing what else to do, Prilla opened her mouth like a hungry baby bird.

  Pluck’s expression changed from annoyed to puzzled. She held the berry to Prilla’s mouth. Prilla bit into it. The juices dripped down her chin.

  “Delicious,” Prilla said, trying to act as if eating like this was completely normal. She took another bite. “Mmmm.”

  When Prilla had eaten her fill, Pluck quickly said good-bye. She headed off toward the Home Tree with the remaining berries. Pluck will have an interesting story to tell when she gets back! Prilla thought with a giggle. She must think I am very odd indeed!

  After much struggling, Prilla was finally able to slip her wrists free. She discovered that they had been bound with thick threads of spider silk. How did that happen? Prilla wondered. Did some spider mistake me for an extralarge fly? Was I about to become a spider’s next meal? That was a scary thought! She had never heard of a spider capturing and devouring a Never fairy before. But she guessed that anything was possible.

  Well, no use worrying about what could have happened, Prilla thought. She was safe and sound, at least for the moment. But what an odd day she was having!

  Prilla took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and made a quick wish. “Please let me find the butterflies,” she said.

  She opened her eyes and looked around. Nothing. If only wishes came true that easily! But they don’t—not even in Pixie Hollow.

  She starting walking again, looking in all the usual places that a butterfly might choose to hide in. She looked in knotholes in trees, under dead leaves, in between rocks. Then she spied a flash of color from the corner of her eye.

  Prilla ran forward and peeked into the tall grass. There sat a butterfly. It was the tiny silvery yellow creature that she had chased earlier.

  Prilla smiled widely. She felt incredible relief.

  The butterfly opened and closed its wings slowly. It was so close that Prilla could see every colorful scale on its wings. It was so close that she could reach out and…

  Her movement startled the butterfly.

  It took off, then landed a couple of inches away.

  Prilla sighed in frustration. But then she was surprised to see the butterfly turn around. She quietly crept up to it. But the butterfly wouldn’t stay put. It flew a short distance, then landed, flew a short distance, then landed, over and over again.

  They went on like this for quite a while, Prilla following closely. Once, she lost sight of the butterfly. Her heart sank, and her eyes started to fill with tears. But then it reappeared right in front of her. It was almost as if the butterfly had been looking for her.

  Suddenly, the butterfly flew away into a thicket. Prilla ran up and parted the leaves. She hadn’t lost it after all this, had she?

  To her surprise, she had discovered a small clearing. And there were the butterflies—all fifty of them!

  Prilla grinned. Take it slowly this time, she told herself. Try not to make any sudden movements that will startle them. Everything is going to be all right.

  Just then, Prilla felt a tickle in her nose. Oh, no! I can’t sneeze now, she thought. That will scare them away again! She wrinkled her nose to make the itch go away. She held her nose, but nothing worked. What was wrong with her?

  Then she noticed the leaves on the bushes around her. She was standing right in the middle of a patch of sneezewort!

  Ah-ah-ah-CHOO! Prilla sneezed so hard, she nearly knocked herself over. Ah-choo, ah-choo, ah-choo!

  Finally, her sneezing fit ended. Prilla was not surprised to find that she had scared the entire butterfly herd away— again. She backed away from the sneeze-wort patch. Noisily, she blew her nose into a leafkerchief.

  Prilla shook her head. What bad luck she was having!

  PRILLA’S STOMACH RUMBLED. She had been searching for th
e butterflies for quite a while, and she was awfully hungry. It was time to eat her breakfast.

  Spotting a table-sized toadstool, Prilla landed next to it. She began to unpack the food that Dulcie had given her that morning. She was pleased to find two strawberry muffins, a clay thermos full of hot tea with honey and lemon, and a cobweb napkin. Prilla sprinkled some fairy dust on a smooth, round stone. She floated it over to the toadstool table for a comfortable place to sit.

  Just as she was about to take a seat, a breeze blew her napkin off the toadstool. She bent to pick it up.

  Prilla straightened, poured herself a steaming cup of tea, and—

  “Hey!” she said. “Where did my other muffin go?”

  Had she accidentally knocked it off the toadstool? She knelt down to look for it. But the missing strawberry muffin was nowhere to be found.

  She stood and reached for her remaining muffin. But it was gone, too!

  Prilla was puzzled. This was too odd. Pixie Hollow was a place of magic and whimsy. Strange things happened every day. But strawberry muffins didn’t sprout legs and walk away. There had to be an explanation.

  But try as she might, Prilla couldn’t come up with one. She poured herself a cup of tea. Then she settled down on the stone and took a sip. Her stomach rumbled again.

  Looking around, Prilla spied a raspberry bush nearby. “I’ll just have a berry for breakfast instead,” she said.

  Splat! A big juicy raspberry landed right on the toadstool table. Red juice splattered everywhere. Prilla jumped to her feet, spilling her tea. Now, where did that come from? She looked up at the sky. A passing bird must have dropped it, she thought.

  “Lucky it didn’t hit me on the head,” she said out loud.

  Splat!

  Berry juice dripped down Prilla’s face and onto the collar of her dress. She had spoken too soon!

  She wiped the sticky juice from her forehead and cheeks with the cobweb napkin. Unless I want every wasp in Pixie Hollow to be buzzing around me, I’d better get to Havendish Stream and wash this off, she thought. She placed the cork back into the thermos, put the thermos in her sack, took a step forward—and promptly tripped on a pebble.

  How odd, thought Prilla. I didn’t see that there before.

  Shrugging, she slung the sack over her shoulder and headed for Havendish Stream. “What a strange day,” she said. “It would be funny if it weren’t so…” Then she started to laugh despite herself. It was pretty funny that so many things had gone wrong!

  Prilla got to the stream. She knelt on the bank, scooped up some of the clear, cool water, and splashed it on her face. She couldn’t resist magically making a fountain or two spring up from the water when she was done washing. I’m getting pretty good at this, she thought. Rani would be proud. Rani was the water talent fairy who had taught Prilla how to make fountains. Maybe she’ll let me move on to water creatures next! I bet I could make a sea horse!

  Smiling at the idea, Prilla raised her head and began to straighten up. And there, on the opposite bank, sat a blue and golden butterfly. Prilla blinked. The butterfly fluttered its wings two or three times, then took off into the air.

  Prilla was right behind it. She hoped the butterfly would lead her straight to the rest of the herd.

  She followed the butterfly along the banks of the stream. She trailed it through an underground passage. She chased it around and around a big oak tree until she was dizzy. She followed it past the Mermaid Lagoon…and ended up right back at Flower Field.

  If I didn’t know any better, Prilla thought, I’d think this butterfly was taking me on a wild-goose chase!

  At the edge of Flower Field, the butterfly suddenly darted under a pile of dead leaves. Prilla landed nearby and slowly crept up to it. She stifled a giggle as she saw the leaves rustle. The silly butterfly thought it was fooling her!

  Prilla lifted the top leaf.

  This is a surprise! was all she could think.

  For there was no butterfly under the leaf. Instead there was a Never stinkbug—an angry Never stinkbug.

  It was a surprise—and a particularly unpleasant one at that!

  The stinkbug raised its tail, and— whoosh!—it drenched Prilla from head to toe in its horribly stinky perfume.

  “Yuck!” cried Prilla. She stepped back, coughing.

  As she wiped the tears from her eyes, she glanced up. Sitting on the branch above her head was the butterfly she had been chasing. Its wings were shaking. Prilla could have sworn that it was laughing at her.

  THE BUTTERFLY FLEW OFF, but Prilla didn’t follow. Instead, she sat down and put her head in her hands. She was stinky, sticky, and worn out. Maybe it was time to give up. It was quite clear to Prilla that she was a terrible butterfly herder. She had no idea what she was doing. She was starting to dislike butterfly herding—and butterflies themselves—very much.

  Then again, if she gave up now, the herd might get lost, or harmed by predators. And it would all be her fault. Prilla couldn’t bear the thought.

  I can do this! she told herself. She stood up and began to retrace her steps.

  When she returned to the spot where her muffins had gone missing, to her surprise she spotted a butterfly. It was a pretty pink and bronze one. It sat there sunning itself on the toadstool she had used as a table.

  The butterfly’s back was to Prilla. Smiling, she slowly began to creep up behind it. She was careful not to step on a dead leaf or a twig. She didn’t want to make any noise that would scare the butterfly away. This is my last chance, Prilla thought. She had to catch this butterfly!

  Finally, Prilla was right behind the creature. She took a deep breath and lunged forward to grab it. “Gotcha!” she yelled.

  The butterfly froze. Then it toppled over.

  Prilla stared. Her mouth hung open in disbelief. She reached over and softly poked the butterfly’s wing with her finger. It didn’t move.

  No doubt about it. The butterfly was dead.

  “What have I done?” Prilla cried. She took a deep breath. “Oh, why did I pretend to like butterflies in the first place?”

  Once again there was a flash of purple, and Vidia landed right next to Prilla.

  “Hello, precious,” Vidia said with a smirk. “I’ve been looking for you all day. How’s the butterfly herding going?” She wrinkled her nose. “And what is that awful smell? It smells like…ugh—stinkbug! Prilla, what in Never Land have you been up to?”

  But Prilla was too upset to reply. She slowly raised her arm and pointed to the motionless butterfly.

  Vidia looked at it, then turned to stare at Prilla. She wore a look of shock. “Precious, it’s not…?”

  “Dead,” finished Prilla forlornly. “Yes. I killed it!”

  “My goodness, sweetheart,” said Vidia. “Now you’ve really done it. Even I’ve never killed a butterfly.”

  This did not make Prilla feel any better. “I must have scared it to death,” Prilla whispered.

  Vidia shook her head. “You know, this never would have happened, darling, if you had just—”

  Prilla put her hands over her ears. “I know, I know! But I can’t think about that now. Will you please go get Queen Clarion so I can explain everything to her?”

  Vidia raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, dear?” she asked. “You could just pretend this never happened. I won’t say a word.”

  Prilla was aghast. “No, Vidia! I must tell the queen.”

  “Suit yourself, precious,” said Vidia. “I’ll be back in two shakes of a dragon’s tail.”

  Prilla watched as Vidia took off into the air. Then she lowered herself to the ground and leaned against the toadstool, where the tiny butterfly lay still. She could hardly stand to look at it. She closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. What a disaster this was! She wasn’t a butterfly-herding fairy. She was a butterfly-slaying fairy!

  After what seemed like a lifetime, Prilla heard Vidia and Queen Clarion approach. She was surprised to see that Nettle was with them. Maybe she’s
been brought along for an expert opinion, Prilla thought. With all the butterfly herders sick, caterpillar-shearing-talent fairies were the next best thing.

  Prilla wiped her eyes and stood up.

  Nettle opened her mouth to say something. But Prilla held up her hand for silence. “Please let me speak,” she said. “I have a confession to make, Queen Clarion. Something terrible has happened and it is all my fault.”

  “Go on, Prilla,” said the queen.

  “I…I…I…killed a butterfly.” Prilla lowered her eyes in shame.

  “What butterfly? Where?” Queen Clarion asked sharply.

  “Here,” said Prilla, pointing to the toadstool. But when she turned her head to look, she was shocked.

  The butterfly was gone!

  “B-B-B-BUT IT WAS JUST HERE a minute ago,” Prilla stuttered. She turned to Vidia. “You saw it. Tell her!”

  Vidia gave her a wicked smile, which made Prilla even more upset. She turned to the queen. “It’s true! It was just there!”

  “What did the butterfly look like?” the queen asked.

  “It was pink and bronze,” Prilla said.

  She was trying hard not to cry. “It was very small.…”

  The queen burst out laughing. “Perhaps it looks like the butterfly that is sitting on your head?” she asked.

  Nettle started laughing, too. Vidia shook her head, smirking.

  Could it be true? Prilla reached up. Sure enough, there was a butterfly sitting on her head like a jaunty little hat! It took off into the air and landed on the toadstool. It was the very same butterfly Prilla thought she had startled to death.

  “But how…?” Prilla began.

  “Oh, Prilla,” said Nettle, catching her breath. “Don’t you know that butterflies like to play practical jokes?”

  “What are you talking about?” said Prilla.

  “They’ll do anything to play a trick on you,” Nettle explained. “One time a butterfly carried away my best pair of shears. And the next morning, all the caterpillars had terrible haircuts!”