Philippa Fisher's Fairy Godsister

by Liz Kessler

  The fairy’s smile broadened even more.

  “You will be promoted into a higher life cycle for your next assignment,” the rainbow said. “Now, come toward me.”

  The fairy walked into the rainbow, the sides of her body shimmering and dissolving until she disappeared altogether.

  The rainbow brightened, glistening its full arc in colors so bright that the humans who saw it would talk about it for days afterward.

  And a little while later, somewhere down on earth, a beautiful butterfly slowly edged out of its cocoon as it came to life and awaited further instructions.

  This book made it all the way into your hands with a tiny bit of fairy magic and a lot of help from some very special people. Huge thanks are due to the following:

  Linda Chapman, for saying exactly the right things at exactly the right time. This book would not be here without her.

  Jane Cooper (Pink Bag Lady) and Andy Bennett, for helping to kick-start my story over an early morning cuppa in a tree house.

  My sister, Caroline Kessler, for allowing me to spend a month working in a caravan in Anglesey surrounded by millions of children.

  My agent, Catherine Clarke, for being patient and kind and taking me seriously when I said I couldn’t do this writing lark anymore, and for being just as patient and also very happy when I realized I could.

  My editor, Judith Elliot, for being so clever, sensitive, and understanding, for always telling me when I’ve got it wrong, and best of all for telling me when I get it right.

  Mom, for sitting up in bed helping me sort out lots of niggles along the way — and even finding a few more once I thought I was done.

  Dad — proofreader extraordinaire!

  Peter B., for coming up with a solution without me ever having even told him the problem.

  And Lee Weatherly, for being a great writing buddy, even when she has fairies of her own to think about.

  “I’m in a new department now,” Daisy went on. “They’re being really strict with me, so I have to be careful.” She scurried over to the window and looked out before closing it behind her. “I’m taking a huge risk just by being here — but I had to see you!”

  “Really?”

  “Of course, really! You’re my best friend, and I haven’t seen you for months. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

  Daisy had called me her best friend! I tried to conceal a smile, but I don’t think I did it very well. The disappointment melted away. “I’ve missed you, too!” I said.

  Daisy smiled, and her cheeks turned pink. “Tell me things!” she said. “What have you been doing? How have you been? I want to know everything!”

  I thought about the last few months. I hadn’t really done much at all that felt worth reporting. “Been to school, done some magic in the tree house — that’s about it,” I said, adding silently, and had no one to share any of it with.

  “How are the tricks going?” she asked.

  I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk about my magic tricks. I wanted to know about her. “What have you been doing?” I asked. “I’m sure it’s been much more interesting than my boring old life!”

  “Well, I’ve got this new job,” she said. “But I really can’t talk about it.” She made a face. “I wish I could. I’ve been wanting to tell you all about it.”

  “How long have you been in the new department?”

  “Just since the summer,” she said. “As soon as I got the job, I wanted to tell you. I wanted to see you. I’d been trying to work out a way for ages — and then something came up without me even planning it!”

  “What do you mean? What happened?”

  Daisy looked over her shoulder, as though checking that no one was there — even though she’d closed the window. She lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t tell you,” she said. “You know my assignments are top secret. And this one is even more so. But I want to share everything with you!”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” I promised, lowering my voice to a whisper like hers.

  She paused, as if she was weighing whether or not to tell me. Then she said, “I came to your house once. It was a special mission.”

  “Really? When? I never saw you!”

  Daisy shook her head. “You wouldn’t have recognized me. I wasn’t like this.”

  “As a fairy?” I asked.

  She shook her head again. “You know how every time I start a new assignment, I begin as something from nature; like last time, I was a daisy?”

  “Yes. So you mean you’re something different now?”

  She looked over her shoulder again and nodded quickly.

  “And you can’t tell me what it is?”

  “No.”

  “But that was what you came to me as?”

  Daisy nodded. “Listen, I can’t tell you any more. I’m sorry. The consequences in this department are really strict. I’ve been hearing of some terrible things that have happened to fairies in Triple D.”

  “Triple D?” I said. “What’s that?”

  Daisy flushed bright red. “Oh, no!” she said. “Look, I didn’t mean to say that. You didn’t hear that, OK? Please, promise me — don’t tell anyone!” Her voice shook. She was looking really scared now.

  “Don’t worry,” I said.” How can I tell anyone if I don’t even know what it means?”

  Daisy let out a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I want to tell you all about it. Just I’ll get into such trouble.”

  “What’s it to do with? Give me a clue! Twenty questions,” I begged, trying to lighten the situation up a bit. I’d never seen Daisy look scared like that.

  She laughed nervously. “I can’t tell you. It’s not like last time. There are lots of us in Triple D, and it’s pretty intense. I only get a little time off each night. I really wanted to see you, though. I tried last night, but the window was closed.”

  The window! The dream! Had Daisy had something to do with —

  “Look, I have to go,” she said.

  “I’m so glad you came!” I said. She gave me a quick hug and headed for the window. “Go back to sleep,” she said. “Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me.”

  “Of course I won’t!”

  And with that, she lifted the latch, jumped up onto the windowsill, climbed out into the darkness, and disappeared into the black night.

  LIZ KESSLER is the author of the best-selling series about Emily Windsnap as well as the Philippa Fisher books. She decided she wanted to be a writer at the age of nine, when her first poem was published in the local newspaper. She has also worked as a teacher and a journalist. Liz Kessler lives in Cornwall, England.