by Jan Bozarth
Snuggling against Ardee’s warm hide, I was sound asleep before she finished her sentence.
I woke up suddenly, startled by a metallic whine.
“What’s that?” Ardee whispered.
“I don’t know.” Tightening my grip on my Kalis stick, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the glowing creature-lights. Behind a bank of tall stalagmites, another passageway led off the small room. I rose and quietly crept toward it.
“Where are you going?” Ardee hissed as she stood up.
I looked back and held my fingers to my lips. Then I motioned for the reindeer to stay put and wait. Ardee didn’t pay any attention; she followed me into an arched tunnel and I didn’t have the heart to stop her.
The yellow flowers grew in clumps among colonies of worms on the walls, shining light for us to see by. As we walked deeper into the mountain, the metallic sounds grew louder, the tunnel widened, the glowing creatures were bigger, and the light glowed brighter. A blue substance that looked like mercury filled hollows and cracks in the big flat rocks that lined the walls. Splotches of the blue liquid moved from one pool to another at a languid pace, as if it were alive. Other rocks were covered with puffs of glowing pink lichen.
At the end of the tunnel was what looked like a huge cavern; a faint sound came from it, like vibrating chimes or metal drums. I ducked behind a tall boulder at the edge of the opening, wary of any unforeseen danger beyond. Ardee stood behind me, peeking out.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“Shh,” I responded. “Not now.”
I looked over just in time to see her sniff a glowing pink puff on the boulder and recoil. “It bit me!” she yelped, wiggling her stung nose as though she had to sneeze.
“Shhhh!” I whispered loudly and glared. “Don’t eat anything. You could make yourself sick. Or maybe even eat something that’s a someone. Just wait here. Please. And I mean it this time.”
The reindeer sighed and nodded. “Okay, but if you find any food —”
“I’ll bring it back,” I promised.
Once Ardee was settled, I gave the cave my complete attention. I couldn’t see much from my hiding place, but I realized that the metallic sound had many parts, like musical instruments in an orchestra. A blast of hot air hit the back of my neck. I jumped slightly, swallowing a squeal. I began to sweat under my heavy coat and quickly discovered the heat source in the wall behind me: orange fungus that looked like the tops of pumpkins without stems. Every few seconds, the orange segments burst open and blew out heated air. A quick scan confirmed that thousands of the furnace plants—or maybe they were furnace animals—lived in the rocky walls.
The cavern was as bright and as warm as a summer day. Dropping my coat, I scurried toward the next boulder with my Kalis stick in hand. The astonishing beauty of the underground wonderland didn’t make an impact until I completely cleared the corridor. Awestruck, I stopped to gawk.
Light from many species of luminescent creatures reflected off a network of crystal stalactites and stalagmites. The cavern walls were honeycombed with alcoves, all of them alight in brilliant colors. Fairies dressed in earth tones and watery hues danced Kalis on one side, their sticks every shade of the rainbow. Ordinary flowering plants, vines, and grasses grew everywhere: on the ground, between the rocks, and around crystal structures. A gentle stream of water flowed off a high ledge into a pool. Roly-poly animals covered in artichoke-like scales bounced on a bed of silver leaves.
I remembered Queen Patchouli’s second piece of advice: Look for the Kalistonia Fairies. Maybe my goal was closer than I realized. At the very least, the Kalistonia Fairies were a marker on the path to find Biba’s voice. I looked more closely at the fairies in the cavern.
Fairy ages are impossible to pinpoint, but most of the girls looked like teenagers. They all had simple swirling designs on their foreheads and arms. I couldn’t tell if they were painted on or marks they were born with. Some of the fairies’ clothes sparkled with mica or gemstones. Instead of the long, flowing dresses of the Willowood Fairies, these fairies wore clothes that were easy to perform the Kalis moves in. They all wore their hair in braids, either hanging down or pinned up, some in intricate patterns.
Their Kalis sticks were different lengths and colors, and the sticks made different sounds as they whistled through the air. The cathedral cavern reverberated with whirs, whistles, and chimes. The longest sticks made a sound like tumbling crystal beads.
Although the fairies were moving with flawless grace and fluidity, jumping higher and spinning faster than I’d seen before, I recognized several of the movements. They were variations of the basic Kalis steps my mother had taught me. A fairy dressed in deep brown stood on the tip of a stalagmite. Balanced on one foot, she bent her knee and sprang straight up. Reaching for the high ceiling with her Kalis stick, she brought her legs together and twisted like a corkscrew as she settled to the ground.
A younger fairy stood among toadstools, practicing the movement my mother called Stroking the Water Horse’s Mane. The dancer in smoky gray held her left arm out to the side. Holding her lavender Kalis stick in her right hand, she swept her right arm down to the left over the imaginary crest of a horse’s neck and then looped it up and back. Repeating the movement over and over again, she practiced to achieve perfection and only stopped once. She stared at her short Kalis stick a moment and then resumed the same routine.
Other fairies danced in pairs, leaping in unison or mirroring each other’s moves. Despite the distance from my spying spot, I could see the nuance in each movement. Mesmerized, I watched a girl who rounded herself into a ball. She held the position for three heartbeats and then sprang from the floor, throwing her arms and legs out like an unfolding flower. I felt the snap and collapse of her slim body as she performed the X Sweep. On the sixth unfolding, she launched herself into the air and drifted upward like a dandelion seed carried on the breeze.
A series of sharp, staccato whacks followed by a thwang rose above the sounds of the dancing fairies’ sticks. I peeked around the other side of the boulder. Here, older fairies danced in pairs amid crystals and gigantic ferns.
These fairies were dressed similarly to the younger ones, except their wings were held tight against their backs with two strips of fabric that crossed over their chests and around their backs. Leaping from jagged rock to pointed stalagmite, they twisted and turned with a fury I had never associated with fairies. The swirling designs on their foreheads and arms were far more complex than those on the younger fairies. Many had the patterns on their calves and ankles as well. Their Kalis sticks were longer, some measuring over four feet, and I didn’t recognize a single move as I watched.
I was sure that the young dancers and Kalis masters had to be the Kalistonia Fairies Queen Patchouli mentioned, but I needed to be sure. Squaring my shoulders, I stepped out of hiding. I held my small orange Kalis stick pointing down lest my intentions be mistaken as unfriendly. As I raised my empty hand to get someone’s attention, all the fairies in the cavern stopped moving.
“Oh, please, don’t stop,” I cried, without even meaning to.
All the fairies lowered their Kalis sticks and bowed, their gazes turned upward.
I stared, speechless.
A beautiful, statuesque fairy looked down from a crystal tower thirty feet above. Stepping off, she floated down to the floor without using the small wings on her back at all. The scallops of her pale tunic fell below the tops of soft brown high boots tied with crisscrossed thongs. Holding a five-foot golden-white Kalis stick, she glided across the floor and stopped a few feet away from me. Her heart-shaped face reminded me of Aunt Tuula’s, with laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth and a nose that crinkled when she smiled. Her long braids were twined around her head in a crown style similar to Aunt Tuula’s as well.
Before I could ask the question poised on my tongue, the fairy flicked her Kalis stick. The stick sparkled as it telescoped down to eighteen inches. Then, bowing in a sweeping gesture of
honorable welcome, she said: “I am Mangi, Queen of the Kalistonia Fairies. We have been waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me?” I asked, stunned.
“The Kalistonia Fairies teach all fairy-godmothers-in-the-making from the Pax Lineage,” Queen Mangi said. “I’ve been expecting you for some time now, Kerka.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Queen Mangi knew I had come to Aventurine. One of my mother’s daughters had to begin fairy godmother training or our family’s branch of the Pax Lineage would be banished from the fairy world.
The fairy queen looked past me. “You can come out now, Ardee,” she said, raising an eyebrow when the reindeer made no move to obey.
“It’s okay, Ardee,” I said, talking over my shoulder and making a come-here gesture behind my back.
“She’s a bit shy,” the queen observed.
“A bit,” I agreed. Something else puzzled me, though. “How did you know the reindeer’s name?”
“I heard it through the grapevine,” the queen answered with a twinkle in her eye.
“Do grapevines grow underground through the whole mountain?” I asked.
“They grow wherever we need them,” Queen Mangi said.
I wanted to know more, but I didn’t want to be nosy. I glanced back and caught Ardee peeking around the boulder. She quickly ducked back, but I could see the tips of her antlers. So could the curious young dancers who had come closer. They pointed and giggled.
“You must be hungry after your long journey,” Queen Mangi said, smiling ever so slightly when the reindeer peeked out again.
“I have food.” I touched the pouch. “The Willowood Fairies were very generous, but they didn’t give me anything for a reindeer.”
Ardee walked up and stopped behind me.
“We have reindeer provisions,” Queen Mangi said, as though reindeer visited the Kalistonia Fairies all the time. “Despite the shortness of time, it is important that I show you our realm. It should help you to understand some of your Pax Lineage.”
“Are you sure it is okay?” I asked.
“Not just okay, but necessary,” Queen Mangi answered. “You’ll see why. And you should have some time to eat when we’re done.”
“But I’m hungry right now,” Ardee said, planting her feet.
“Shh!” I nudged the reindeer with my elbow. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, too, but I’d rather suffer than be rude.
“Of course you’re hungry,” Queen Mangi said graciously. “Reindeer eat twelve pounds of fodder a day, and you’ve had a very tough day.”
“A very, very tough day,” the reindeer agreed.
Queen Mangi hid another amused smile. “We’ll look for a good snack along the way. Just remember that most of the plants in these caverns are not food.”
“Puffy pink things aren’t friendly.” Ardee shook her antlers and curled her upper lip. “They bite.”
“Perhaps puffy pink things don’t like to be eaten,” Queen Mangi suggested, winking at me. She stepped onto a path of smooth round stones inlaid with precious gems.
Ardee stamped her hoof but followed anyway.
“Please stay on the pathway,” Queen Mangi said. “We don’t want to trample anyone.”
The path wandered between tall crystal stalagmites, curving this way and that and sometimes looping back. The pattern seemed random at first. Then I noticed that all the ceiling stalactites had a matching floor stalagmite. Not a single structure had been removed, chiseled, or chipped. The paved pathway had been built around them.
The queen paused in a large alcove where an underground spring of clear mountain water bubbled up into a crystal pool. Spotted brown frogs sat among reeds or floated on lily pads. Silver and black moths perched on gray-green lichen shaped like fans.
“Please, quench your thirst.” Queen Mangi swept her hand toward the pool. “Pod water gets stale after awhile.”
Ardee plunged her muzzle into the pool and sucked in water with a loud slurping sound. No one seemed to mind. I drank from my cupped hand, wishing I could slurp. The spring water tasted like mountain air: cold, crisp, and clean. When we were full, Ardee eyed a patch of clover.
“May I eat them?” she asked the queen in a voice filled with longing.
A chattering noise, like tiny squirrels scolding an intruder, came from the clovers.
“Thank you for asking before eating,” the queen told Ardee. “The clovers tell me that a delicious variety of reindeer moss grows nearby. Why don’t you eat some and tell me if that’s true, Ardee.”
“Okay!” Ardee’s ears perked forward, and she stopped moping. “How far is it?”
“It’s not far. The Kalis stick nursery is just ahead.” The queen swept away down the path, and I jogged to catch up.
“Did you say nursery? Are Kalis sticks born?” I had assumed fairies made my precious orange stick.
“In a way,” Queen Mangi said. “You’ll see.”
9
In the Caves of Kalistonia
I don’t like it when people avoid answering a question they intend to answer later, but I kept quiet and just followed Queen Mangi.
The path exited the crystal maze and went into a large garden. Moss, mushrooms, and fungi grew on rocks and under small fig trees with twisted branches. Blackberry vines grew in straight lines toward the ceiling instead of in tangles. They bent when a fairy wanted berries that were too high to reach. Young fairies carried water in hollowed-out gourds to plants that weren’t rooted near one of the springs. An older fairy clipped dead leaves and buried them to replenish the ground. Insects and small creatures that I recognized—and many I didn’t—were everywhere I looked.
“The garden exists in a harmonious cycle of life, and everything has a sense of purpose,” Queen Mangi told us. “Flies consider it an honor to be eaten by a lizard, and bees make more honey than they use. Glow worms clean harmful microbes off the rocks, and pink puffs pump nutrients into the soil through hollow roots.”
“And no one ever fights?” I was amazed.
“Not very often,” Queen Mangi said. “Raspberries get huffy if they’re picked before they’re ripe.”
Ardee stopped suddenly, sniffing the air. “I smell reindeer moss.”
We turned into a wide corridor filled with snowdrifts, where the temperature dropped suddenly. No furnace creatures lived in the walls here, and snowflakes fell through a hole in the ceiling a hundred feet up.
“You may eat anything you find under the snow,” Queen Mangi told Ardee. “We’ll be back this way soon.”
“Thank you,” Ardee said, pawing the drifts.
I looked back as we continued down the corridor and caught Ardee watching us. She looked slightly worried, but then she lowered her head to eat. I knew she’d be all right until we came back. Nothing in the fairy caves would harm her.
Skip-walking to keep up with the queen, I kept my eyes on the golden glow pouring through the archway at the end of the corridor. My fingers tingled where they touched my Kalis stick. The vibration grew stronger as we drew closer to the archway. We passed through it into the warmth and light, and I came to an abrupt halt and stared.
The ceiling was covered with glowing crystals that looked like icicles. They lit up the entire cavern. Specks of mica twinkled on the walls.
Suddenly Ardee’s voice came from behind me and I felt her warm breath on my neck. “I wanted to see, too,” the reindeer said.
“Is it okay?” I asked Queen Mangi.
“I’m delighted she wants to join us,” the queen said. “This way, please.”
A forest of small willow saplings filled most of the space. There were also rocks, more glowing critters, small waterfalls, and a few large crystal stalactite-stalagmite pairs scattered throughout the cavern. Instead of cutting through the rows of young trees, the mosaic stone path hugged the wall.
“These are Kalistonian willows,” Queen Mangi said. “Your Kalis stick grew up here, Kerka.”
My stick hummed in my hand.
&nbs
p; Queen Mangi added, “We don’t cut down Kalistonian willows for Kalis sticks, Kerka. Here, I’ll show you.” She glanced over the rows of young trees. “Would anyone like to volunteer?”
All the four-foot saplings shook their branches. Queen Mangi chose the one nearest the path. Kneeling, she gently removed the soil from around the roots and lifted the tree out of the ground. Cupping the roots, she held the small tree up so I could see.
Roots, branches, and bark were being absorbed back into the tree’s slim trunk. Then the trunk telescoped down to twelve inches, the same size as my Kalis stick.
“Thank you,” Queen Mangi told the tree. “But you haven’t been chosen yet, so I’ll have to put you back.”
Roots, branches, and bark sprouted in an instant, and the queen put the small tree back into the ground. She patted the soil around the roots and brushed the dirt off her hands when she stood up.
I glanced at the sapling, then at Queen Mangi’s sparkling golden-white stick. “Does your stick get big because it’s still a live tree? Why doesn’t my stick grow? Is it sick? Did I do something wrong?”
“Patience, Kerka. All your questions will be answered,” Queen Mangi said calmly, then added, “when you need the answers.”
“Is there something wrong with asking questions?” I asked, since so many of my questions seemed to be put off.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to answer your questions, Kerka,” the queen pointed out. “I just told you that the answers would come when the time was right.”
I nodded, and we continued walking around the nursery forest to the far end of the cavern.
“Here is where Kalistonian willows become Kalis sticks,” the queen said, gesturing toward a gigantic pair of crystal towers that stood by the cave wall, about ten feet apart.
Water seeped out of the rock wall and trickled down into a pool lined with moss and ringed with pink puffs, ferns, and water lilies. Heat from the furnace creatures in the lower wall created a mist above the pool. Together, the towers and mist refracted the light to create a huge rainbow over the pool. Large vines grew up the rock wall. Two of them hung down over the pool, holding two small Kalis sticks suspended in the rainbow mist.