by Jan Bozarth
“The rainbow chooses what color each Kalis stick will be,” Queen Mangi explained. “No two Kalis sticks are the exact same color, and the rainbow knows which variations have not been assigned.”
“How many Kalis sticks are there?” I asked the question without thinking. But clearly this was the right time for asking that question, because the queen answered.
“Thousands since the beginning of time, but the rainbow has a million different hues,” Queen Mangi replied. “Another Kalis stick may appear to be the same orange color as yours, but it’s not.”
“Who decides what color we get?” I asked.
“After the sticks are colored, the Kalistonia Fairies decide which stick belongs to which young fairy or girl. Sometimes mothers choose for their daughters.” A shadow of sadness passed over the queen’s calm face.
“Did my mother choose our sticks?” I asked. Ardee pressed closer, as though she knew I needed support.
“Yes, Kerka, she did,” Queen Mangi answered, looking into my eyes.
I pictured my mother standing in this same spot just over a year ago, when our Kalis sticks were removed from the rainbow mist. She had decided that I was orange, Biba was blue, and Rona was green. I felt my chest tightening and pushed the sadness away. Ardee moved off as if she’d been pushed, too. The queen’s gaze shifted back to the rainbow, and she gave the smallest sigh.
“Aunt Tuula said grown-up fairy godmothers can only come to Aventurine under very special circumstances,” I said, changing the topic.
“That’s true,” the queen said, nodding. “The bond between a girl and her Kalis stick lasts forever. What could be more special than choosing the talisman and most prized possession of your daughter’s entire existence?”
“Nothing,” I answered.
“Not in the Pax Lineage,” Queen Mangi agreed. “After Britta chose the Three Queens to be the talisman for you and your sisters, the engraver inscribed your sticks: D for Dayling, H for Hourling, and Y for Yearling.”
I thought about my sisters and how much this knowledge would mean to them. “Do all Pax Lineage fairy-godmothers-in-the-making get to see the nursery?”
“Most, not all,” the queen said, turning. “Time grows short, Kerka, and there is more to see.” She glided back through the cavern on the stone path.
Ardee grabbed another mouthful of reindeer moss as we sped down the cold corridor. She was still chewing when the queen led us into another small chamber. The walls were covered with crystals.
Light glinted off the crystals in beams that intersected at odd angles. It made me feel off balance, like being in a fun house full of mirrors. Ardee wouldn’t step inside at all.
The queen faced Ardee and me. “Pax Lineage girls learn the basic Kalis movements from their mothers or another family member in the waking world,” Queen Mangi began. “Once a Pax Lineage girl has mastered the basics, she comes to Aventurine to learn advanced techniques. Fully understanding the magic of the dance, its meaning, and its impact on the world is part of becoming a full-fledged fairy godmother.”
I bit my lip. Queen Mangi knew that my mother had died before she could teach us the last basic Kalis movement. With Biba still in Finland and Rona too busy to dance anything except ballet, Aunt Tuula hadn’t continued my training when I arrived in New York. I decided not to mention it.
“The next phase of training takes place here in the Crystal Chamber,” the queen said.
“The trainee is left alone in the chamber with her Kalis stick, to wait for … whatever may happen,” Queen Mangi said. “Every girl reacts differently. Some emerge feeling a great peace within themselves after the experience. Others become filled with self-doubt. Still others are terrified. Human girls who feel this way never return to Aventurine. A fairy girl leaves our caves and finds another fairy tribe to be a part of.”
“Why? How?” I asked.
“We are all torn by opposing aspects of our inner selves, Kerka.” Queen Mangi gave me some examples. “When facing an enemy, you can surrender or fight. If you surrender, you can give up or run. Do you fight with wits or weapons? When wronged, do you hold a grudge or forgive? Do you help or turn away when aiding another might harm you?”
All of those decisions could be right or wrong depending on the circumstances, I thought.
“The crystals in the chamber reach into the core of each girl,” the queen continued, “and show her the most important elements of her personality, forcing her to confront them. The Crystal Chamber is only the beginning of the process. When a fairy godmother or a fairy finally reconciles the impulses within, her emotions are balanced and she achieves the Peace of Opposites. For some, understanding comes quickly. Others struggle for a lifetime. But that is why the girls of the Pax Lineage and the tribe of Kalistonia Fairies are forever connected.”
I nodded, trying to look as though I knew what she was talking about. In truth, I wasn’t at all sure why such a process was necessary.
“Kalis cannot be mastered until you make peace with yourself. Someone who is unsure of themselves can be more easily tricked by an opponent than someone with a clear head.”
The explanation made sense, but it didn’t calm my own fears. My future as a fairy godmother depended on whether or not I successfully found Biba’s voice. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake. That fact alone made me doubt my abilities and question my instincts.
“Do I have to go into the Crystal Chamber now?” I asked.
“You haven’t mastered all the basic Kalis movements. You haven’t even learned the last one,” Queen Mangi said, her face completely still. My feelings must have shown on my face because the queen softened her tone. “Besides, there’s no time, and if you succeed, there may be no need.” In nearly a whisper she added, “Though it would be the first time.”
Before I could ask another question, Queen Mangi swept away and led us back into the main cavern. We passed a group of young girl fairies practicing basic Kalis steps on the tops of large toadstools. Queen Mangi stopped at the first garden and watched the older girls perform their more elaborate routines for a minute. Then she selected a pair to come down off their crystal spires and join us.
“Fairy godmothers aren’t effective unless they can empathize, and anticipate the feelings, desires, and actions of those they are helping,” Queen Mangi explained. “The OneTwoOne Dance teaches partners to feel each other’s moves and intentions. Pink Agate and Obsidian have almost achieved perfect harmony.” The queen glanced at the waiting fairies. “Please, demonstrate.”
I watched, amazed at the dancers’ precision. There was no hesitation as they slipped flawlessly from one movement to the next. With both sticks raised, they each executed a Tornado Spin in place and stopped at exactly the same instant. When it looked like both girls would flip their sticks outward to Peek from Behind the High Grass, one of the girls drove the tip of her stick straight toward the other. The second girl was not caught off guard. Anticipating the move, she switched to Stroking the Water Horse’s Mane and flipped the first girl’s stick aside. The first girl was ready, and gracefully spun with the movement. They ended facing each other with their Kalis sticks crossed.
I applauded. “That looked perfect!”
Smiling, Queen Mangi bowed to the girls. “It was perfect.”
Both fairies grinned with pride and delight. Their Kalis sticks began to glow and then grew two inches longer.
“They do grow!” I exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Queen Mangi laughed. “Sometimes it’s better to see something than to hear about it. All Kalis sticks are the same when they are first given. They grow and become more powerful as their fairy godmother partners become more accomplished.
“Kalistonia Fairies and Pax fairy godmothers also perform Kalis as a dance and combat technique,” Queen Mangi added.
“Combat?” The concept of fighting fairy godmothers went against everything I thought I knew.
“Warriors sometimes need to defend those who can’t de
fend themselves,” Queen Mangi said.
There were times when I practiced—leaping, spinning, and slashing air—that I felt a burst of energy. It made me feel as though I could take on anything and win. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be learning to fight.”
“You won’t be learning to fight just yet,” Queen Mangi said. “Fairy-godmothers-in-the-making are not allowed to use fighting powers until they have achieved perfection in the OneTwoOne Dance and more advanced techniques are mastered. A Kalis stick is not ready to be used as a weapon until then.”
“But what if something threatens a fairy-godmother-in-the-making?” I asked, thinking of the wolf.
“A master of Kalis tries to outsmart her foes and only fights after all other options have failed.” The queen turned to watch the practicing fairies.
I latched on to the fact that she didn’t say I absolutely-under-no-circumstances-whatsoever couldn’t use Kalis to save myself. I just had to try everything else first. Relieved, I looked back to the dancing fairies. Now that I knew defense was the goal of the exercises, I could see the fighting skills in all the moves. The leaps, spins, kicks, and pauses were like martial arts, and the longer Kalis sticks could be used as swords or like medieval staffs. The beauty of the dance disguised the power of Kalis as a weapon.
Ardee wasn’t as interested in the Kalis dancers as I was. She wandered off to explore on her own, probably looking for food.
“I hope I’m a good fighter,” I said.
“I hope you’re a better peacemaker,” Queen Mangi said.
“Peacemaker?” I blinked.
“Pax is the Latin word for peace,” Queen Mangi said. “You are seeking the Peace of Opposites not just for yourself, but also for the opposing forces of the world, big and small.”
“I don’t get it,” I said, speaking honestly.
Queen Mangi looked me in the eye. “Members of the Pax Lineage have the magical ability to bring people together even when their differences aren’t obvious or seem impossible to reconcile. The task may be as simple as settling an argument between friends or as complicated as negotiating a truce in a war. You may even help someone forgive and forget an injustice.”
“If the people I’m trying to help don’t know what they need, how will I?” I asked.
“If you master the wind, you will be learning to read what people are feeling,” Queen Mangi said. “Both only seem elusive. Eventually, you should be able to bring harmony to those in need, just as Kalis is teaching you to bring harmony to yourself.”
“Is that what Aunt Tuula does?” I asked.
“Yes.” Queen Mangi smiled. “Your aunt calms many fears and creates much goodwill on her travels through the waking world. Your mother brought neighbors together and kept harmony in your whole town. She raised three daughters who rarely argue or squabble.”
Not right now, I thought.
“There is something I must tell you, Kerka,” Queen Mangi said. “Since you had not learned all the basics of Kalis, I was unsure that you could preserve your family’s heritage and place in Aventurine.”
My heart sank.
“I was wrong,” Queen Mangi continued. “You created a true link with Ardee, and you made the perilous journey from the Glass Lake to this cave. Your intuition and natural abilities are much stronger than I had thought.”
My heart lifted, and I asked, “So what should I do now?”
“You must not leave just yet,” Queen Mangi said. “There are other things you need to know, things that will improve your chances. I promise you, the Aventurine sun will not begin to rise until after you leave the caves of Kalistonia.”
“How do you know?” I was curious.
“Dancing Kalis raises power. The more who dance and the more accomplished the dancers, the more power is raised. Here in Aventurine, with almost all of my fairies dancing, we raise enough power to control time,” Queen Mangi said. “Right now, my fairies are dancing to hold the sun back until you are ready to go.” Picking up her Kalis stick, the queen motioned for me to follow.
I was blown away by what the queen had said. I looked around to say something to Ardee but she wasn’t there. I felt a wave of worry. “Where’s Ardee?” I asked. I couldn’t let anything happen to her; she needed me.
“She’ll be fine until you get back, I promise,” Queen Mangi said. She waved over a young fairy. “Take a basket of dried fruit and grass to the cavern entrance.”
“And tell her I’ll be there soon,” I added.
10
Showdown
The fairy nodded and sped off. Queen Mangi led me to a spot between tall stalagmites. No other fairies were in sight. She began another lecture, but I didn’t complain.
“A Pax Lineage fairy godmother must have discipline, self-assurance, and wisdom to be a keeper of the peace,” Queen Mangi said. “You must also have the power to implement your good works.”
“Magic,” I said. “Birdie has the power to heal the green world with her family’s Singing Stone.”
“Fairy godmothers of the Pax Lineage have the wind,” Queen Mangi said, “but you must learn to harness it. It is usually necessary for a girl to master the OneTwoOne Dance, in ballet terms the pas de deux, before she has the skills to perform the One Dance, and the One Dance cannot be mastered until she learns to harness the wind.”
“That’s a solo, right?”
“The wind is your partner,” said Queen Mangi. “You work together as one. Learning these moves also teaches you how to balance the powers of Kalis dance and defense. Give it a try.”
“Right now?” I asked. “Here?”
The queen smiled and nodded.
Instinctively, I reached up and moved my arm in an arc, trying to weave strands of the wind that made the fairies fly. My fingers twined around slender filaments of solid air for a glorious moment before the threads disintegrated in a puff.
“Begin like this.” Standing on one foot, Queen Mangi demonstrated a series of controlled tai chi–type movements. The results were instant. Bellflowers jingled in the whisper of wind she created with a wave of her hand. A spray of rain arced out of the waterfall with a casual flick of the queen’s wrist. Holding her hands palms down as if she were pressing against air lifted her off the floor, like an acrobat pushing against a trapeze bar. “Concentration is the key,” she said as she slowly lowered herself.
I closed my eyes, focused on the air around me, and pushed my hands down. I could feel streams of air rush through my fingers, but my feet didn’t budge. After three tries, I threw up my hands. I had felt every move Queen Mangi made, and I had been certain I could do it, too, at least a little bit.
“Everyone learns these things in their own time and way, some quickly and some more slowly,” Queen Mangi said serenely. “You’ve ridden the wind more than most girls ever do. Now it is time for you to continue your quest. My fairies cannot hold back the sun much longer.”
I wanted to try again, but the queen started walking. “How did you and the reindeer come to be together?” she asked as we headed to the entrance tunnel.
“I saved her from a wolf, and she’s been with me ever since.” I could see that Ardee was eating from a basket. Several small fairies were scratching her rump and her ears. “She seemed so lost and alone, I wanted to help her. It turns out she helped me just as much as I helped her. And now, well, I just feel somehow connected to her.” I realized this was true.
“Still, it is clear she is not your spirikin,” the queen said thoughtfully. “I didn’t think a reindeer was a fit for you.”
I had to ask: “What’s a spirikin?”
“Spirikins are unique to the Pax Lineage. No other fairy godmother has them.” Queen Mangi’s gaze swept across the cavern. “Spirikins are animal spirits. Each girl’s spirikin represents her inner self, and that defines which animal chooses her. The spirikin helps a girl acquire the one quality she needs but doesn’t have.”
“Oh.” I nodded.
“Most spirikins come to girls in
the Crystal Cave. Spirikins that choose especially strong-willed girls often decide to fight.”
“When do I meet my spirikin?” I asked.
“It will come when you need it most,” Queen Mangi said. “So it should be soon. You can’t complete your mission until you master your shortcoming.”
“What is my shortcoming?” I asked.
“You’ll figure that out when you meet your spirikin.” The queen’s gaze turned to a ledge on the wall beside me.
I turned slowly. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the snow leopard staring down at me. The instant the animal caught my eye, it snarled. I had been chosen, and my spirikin wanted to fight.
The queen, Ardee, and the fairies nearby moved out of harm’s way as the big cat crouched. An unnatural stillness settled over the cavern.
Then, without so much as a twitch of warning, the snow leopard leapt. I immediately jumped up from the bench and planted my feet. With Kalis stick in hand, I watched the leopard land on the flattened tops of a group of stalagmites. I was no match for the leopard one on one, but I stood my ground despite my pounding heart. I waited for the animal’s next move.
The cat waited, too. I wanted to run, but the leopard could catch me in two strides. Taking slow, deep breaths, I checked the terrain on both sides, looking for cover. Before I finished my survey, the cat jumped down.
I bent my knees and launched myself off the floor—but there was nothing within reach to jump onto. As the cat pounced to bring me down, I twisted into a Tornado Spin and barely avoided being smashed by two hundred pounds of snow leopard. My shoulder slammed into a stalactite, and I could feel the cakes in my food pouch go squash when I hit the ground. Bruised and breathless, I scrambled between two stalagmites. The cat clawed at my leg and tore my pant leg.
I huddled in the narrow space formed by the crystal towers, staring into the cat’s golden eyes. The spirikin sat on its haunches, watching me. A third stalagmite cut off escape to the rear. Overhead, the towers grew so close together, the opening was too small to squeeze through. I had backed into a corner.