by Jan Bozarth
I tried a more advanced test of our skills. Giving no signal, I leapt forward. Rona saw the slight flexing of my knees and read the subtle cue. She performed the jump with me. Biba was a little behind, but she caught up when we added a Tornado Spin.
“Now me!” Biba shifted into the Stroking the Water Horse’s Mane stance, holding her left arm out and sliding her stick through the air in elegant loops.
Rona and I spaced ourselves so our swooping sticks wouldn’t clash. Aiti leapt into position to the right of Rona. We continued stroking the water horse’s mane until our mother launched into another series of Wind Leaps. Rona and I were in nearly perfect sync with her. Biba almost lost her balance, but she just giggled and kept going.
“And now Three Flowers Unfold to meet a new day, one after the other,” Aiti said, backing off to give us room. She assumed an at-rest pose and watched as each of us danced the X Sweep, beginning with Rona.
I gloried in my older sister’s dazzling precision as I rounded into a ball, held the position, and then sprang from the floor, flinging my arms and legs open like the petals of a flower. I didn’t perform with Rona’s graceful ease, but I knew I was good in my own way. As I prepared for the final element, I remembered how the Kalistonia Fairy had drifted upward, like a dandelion seed in the step Aunt Tuula called a Zephyr. When I tried it, I felt a gentle push. The boost was ever so slight, and I wanted to ride the wind so much, I assumed I had imagined the assist.
After Biba completed her X Sweep, I saw Aiti’s face glow with approval. “Your dancing was most magnificent, Biba, especially since you did not practice ballet or Kalis as Rona and Kerka have the past few months.”
Biba grinned with pride.
I was elated. Our mother had been watching over us!
Rona’s smile faded when Aiti caught and held her gaze. “I’m so pleased and happy for you, Rona,” our mother said. “You’ve worked hard to become a rising star of ballet in New York, and I’m thrilled with your triumph.”
“You’re not upset I stopped practicing Kalis?” Rona asked.
“But you haven’t quit!” Aiti exclaimed. “You just performed all the steps beautifully. You’ll learn everything else you need to know when the time is right for you.”
“Kerka made me ride a scary wind,” Biba announced.
“I know she did,” Aiti said. “Kerka had three magic wind knots, and she used them all wisely.” My mother stepped over and touched my cheek. “And that’s why I am here now, in Aventurine. Thank you, Kerka.”
Crystal bells chimed and a Kalis stick whirred as Queen Mangi appeared in a burst of light. The fairy queen twirled her golden-white stick around her head, flicked her wrist, and telescoped the long stick down. Then she bowed a welcome to my mother, a warm smile on her face.
“How good to see you again, Queen Mangi,” Aiti said, bowing back. “You’re just in time to watch our final lesson.”
“Continue.” Grabbing a handful of wind, Queen Mangi rose six feet up onto a small ledge. She tapped the rock with her Kalis stick, and a large toadstool appeared in another flash of light.
Our mother snapped her Kalis stick to get our attention. Instantly, our eyes and ears were fastened on her every move and word.
“The final step in basic Kalis is the hardest, but it unlocks the power we need.” Aiti raised her right arm and moved her hand in a circular motion, as though she was twining a rope around her arm. “When you learn to Climb the Sky, you learn to command the wind. And when you command the wind, you can fly.”
Everything except my mother disappeared into the background as I watched her demonstrate all the variations of the magical step. Soon my sisters and I were repeating the moves so we wouldn’t forget. We reached up with our right hand, then with our left, going through the motions of grasping air that just slipped through our fingers.
“Reach for it!” Aiti rocked forward on her right foot and extended her left leg back, then returned to the starting position. The move reminded me of swinging on a vine. “Feel it!”
As we practiced the new step over and over, I held on to my memory of the ribbon wind and pictured bits of air compressing in my hand.
“Air is a primal element,” my mother explained. “It can be molded by a disciplined mind.”
I remembered being too cold and tired to continue up the mountain. Yet I had made my legs move with a determined unwillingness to give up. I focused all my passion and willpower: I would create a rope that was made of wind.
My hands circled through the air, over and over, first the right and then the left. When my arms began to tire, I ignored my muscles and closed my eyes to concentrate harder. Microscopic bits of air compacted into thin, solid strands against my skin. I pictured the small strands twisting together into larger strands that became a thick rope. When my hand closed around it, I sprang from the ground and whipped my Kalis stick toward the sky. The wind rope pulled me off the ground and carried me up the face of Dayling Mountain.
“Kerka!” Biba yelled. “You’re flying!”
The wind roared in my ears and skimmed over my face. My clothes flapped in the crosscurrents. I was airborne, holding on to a wind rope that was lifting me up the side of Dayling Mountain. At first, I didn’t open my eyes for fear I’d lose my concentration and fall. This wasn’t the same as riding the Redbird Wind with Birdie, and it wasn’t like the wind that had come with the knotted rope. I wasn’t flying like a bird or being carried. I was riding the wind.
The wind rope was firmly in my grip, and riding it felt as natural as breathing. I wanted the rope to carry me up, but I could also make it take me out or down. Empowered by a confidence that came from deep within, I had become one with the wind.
My gaze was first drawn to the top of the mountain, which was no longer hidden by its golden aura. Beside me, ridges and outcroppings of rock became streaks as I sped by. Directly below, my mother, sisters, and Queen Mangi looked like tiny dolls, growing smaller and smaller against the white snow. The blue sky was laced with cloud tendrils that faded into mist on the horizon all around. I could see the path I had taken from the beach, through the forest, across the meadow and glacier, up the icefall, and over the snow bridge to the fairy caves. The rest of Aventurine was shrouded in mist, a mystery I wouldn’t unlock today. It waited, like a present wrapped in cloud paper and tied with a sunbeam, to test other girls from other lineages.
I climbed the sky, going higher and higher. As I rose to the top, I pulled on the wind rope to slow down and reached out with my Kalis stick to touch the high point on Dayling’s crown. A rush of joy overwhelmed me as golden mist seeping from the rock suddenly jetted out in streams. Moving my Kalis stick in a wide arc, I circled the summit of the middle queen and pulled the mist with me. Within a few minutes, the golden crown on the Three Queens had been restored.
I began a slow, spiraling descent around the mountaintop. I flew lazily, relishing the wind on my face and the pure freedom of flight. Finally I landed softly between my mother and Queen Mangi.
A humming sound filled the air around me when my feet touched the ground, and a rapid vibration warmed the palm of my hand. My Kalis stick glowed brightly and grew three inches longer.
“What happened to Kerka’s stick?” Rona asked.
“The power of a Pax Lineage fairy godmother and her Kalis stick grows with each achievement,” Queen Mangi explained. “As will yours someday, maybe soon.”
My mother put her arm around my shoulders and held me close. Her smell and her kiss on my hair brought a hundred memories flooding back. I didn’t want to leave the safety and warmth of her arms, but she released me when Queen Mangi spoke again.
“Rona and Biba have passed the basic Kalis test as well,” Queen Mangi said. “Now each of you may, as you wish and dream, return to Aventurine to continue your fairy godmother training.”
“Will Rona and Biba have to climb the Yearling and Hourling mountains to get to the fairy caves?” I asked.
Biba’s expression darkened in p
rotest. “I already climbed a mountain!”
“Yes, you did.” Queen Mangi laughed. “And now that your generation is whole again, you will enter Aventurine through the Kalistonia Fairies’ domain.” She paused, then added, “Unless Queen Patchouli summons you into someone else’s dream.”
That prompted my next question. “Will I ever see Queen Patchouli again?”
My mother answered. “Anything is possible, but no one knows what the future holds, here or in the waking world.”
Rona nibbled her lip so she wouldn’t cry when she took our mother’s hand. “This is our last good-bye, isn’t it?”
“No!” Biba threw her arms around our mother’s waist and sobbed into her blue gown.
“It will be okay, Biba.” Aiti smiled to reassure us. “In time, the pain will go away, and the memories will make you happy again. Memories are the one gift we have to pass on. I’ll always be in your heart, but my time here has passed, and my work is done. You have your father and Aunt Tuula, and now you have your sisters, too. And you all have my love.”
Sensing that the sorrowful moment of her departure was upon us, Rona and I pulled Biba away. We held each other as our mother twinkled out like a star.
I couldn’t keep back my tears now. I cried on Rona’s shoulder, and she cried on mine. Biba buried her face against me and sobbed.
“She’s really gone,” Rona said. “I’ll never stop missing her.”
“Neither will I.” I wiped the tears off my cheek.
Biba sniffled. “What if I forget her?”
“You won’t,” Rona said.
“We won’t let you.” I smiled.
Queen Mangi put her arms around all of us. “Embracing your roles as fairy-godmothers-in-the-making honors your mother every day, no matter where you are. She has passed on the Pax Lineage, and she is part of us as well as you.” She kissed the top of each of our heads, then stepped away and disappeared in a burst of light.
“I wish I could do that,” said Rona. “Now how are we going to get home?”
“I don’t want to walk.” Biba folded her arms and shook her head.
“I don’t want to stay here!” a squeaky voice called out.
Biba ducked behind Rona, and Rona peered at the rocks. “Who’s there?”
“It’s just me.” An elf trudged out of a crevice, holding his green cap in his hands.
“It’s an elf,” I said.
“But what’s he doing here?” Rona’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Waiting for you silly girls to go home!” the elf yelled in reply. He wore similar elfin clothes to his brothers, green and red with white fur trim and black boots, but he had his own distinct personality. The beach elf was a joker, and the icefall elf was a grump. This little guy just looked unhappy.
“Why do you want us to leave?” Biba peeked out from behind Rona.
“So I can go home!” He waved his cap in frustration. “My brothers and I can’t leave until you do.”
I remembered what Aunt Tuula had told me. It was possible—but unproven—that the destinies of Pax Lineage families and elves were intertwined. “Are you and your brothers affected by everything my sisters and I do?”
“Yes!” He rolled his eyes. “I live on Yearling, and the elf in the ice lives on Hourling. We were yanked away when you three stopped talking to each other, and we’re stuck here until you patch things up. But it’s taken you forever!”
“We’re back together now,” Rona said. “So leave. What’s stopping you?”
“I need my message.” The stubborn little man scowled and tapped his foot.
I looked him in the eye. “I’ll give you the message after you tell us how to get home.”
The elf stamped his foot in a brief display of temper. Then, resigned to being outsmarted, he pointed at me. “You have the power. Now deliver the message.”
I hesitated, wondering if I had understood him correctly. I decided his words could only mean one thing, so I gave him the message. “Your brother told me to tell you, ‘If the wind goes free, so will we.’”
“Finally!” He left in a flash of green and red, moving too fast for my human eyes to follow him. I thought I heard the faraway sound of his brothers laughing.
“What power did he mean, Kerka?” Rona leaned forward to peek over the edge of the drop-off and stepped back.
“It has to be the power of the wind,” I said. “We can fly off the mountain. We’ll either land somewhere in Aventurine or we’ll wake up.”
“Are we going to ride the wind again?” Biba jumped up and down and clasped her hands. “Please, please, please.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You said you never wanted to ride the wind again, ever.”
“That was before I flew to catch you,” Biba said, holding out her hand. “It’s not scary at all. It’s fun!”
Rona didn’t look convinced, but she trusted me. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said when she took Biba’s other hand.
“Me too!” I laughed as I swept my Kalis stick across the sky. The ribbon wind wrapped itself around us, and we sailed off Dayling Mountain into the morning sky.
Epilogue
I woke up on the sofa in Aunt Tuula’s living room. She had left a lamp turned on, and I stared at the ceiling, remembering swooping through the air. Rona and Biba had laughed when we glided past an eagle’s nest where a mother bird was feeding her young. My sisters had shrieked in protest when I flew under a stone bridge, and they tensed when we skimmed the ground. Biba and Rona had disappeared while we were circling a meadow of wildflowers—and then I woke up.
Throwing off the blanket, I reached for my Kalis stick. It was under the throw pillow, where I had left it. It looked longer, but I wanted to be sure. I was still wearing socks, and they made no noise on the hardwood floor as I ran.
I turned the light on in my bedroom. My backpack and the spotted white fur cape were on my bed, as if the fairies had brought them separately. My backpack felt heavy when I went to hang it on the proper hook in my closet. I looked inside, hoping the fairies had left me some water pods. But it was just my schoolbooks. I folded the faux snow leopard cape and put it in a drawer. Then I found a ruler in my desk drawer and held it up to my Kalis stick. It measured fifteen inches, three inches longer than it had measured when I fell asleep.
I slipped my Kalis stick under my pillow and glanced at the clock as I climbed into bed.
It was 2:07 a.m. Saturday. I was thirteen and a true fairy-godmother-in-the-making.
I woke up again around eight and changed out of my sweater and jeans into a turtleneck and comfy sweats. Grabbing my Kalis stick, I leapt out my bedroom door and spun in circles down the hall. I stopped by the container of rain sticks and waved my Kalis stick at the wind chimes across the room. The tinkling ring was drowned out by the clang of pots in the kitchen, and I heard Rona laugh.
“Then Biba puffed up and said, ‘I already climbed this mountain!’” Rona mimicked Biba’s voice.
“Biba talked back to Queen Mangi?” Aunt Tuula chuckled. “The Kalistonia Fairies will have their hands full with our little one, won’t they?”
“Actually, I think Queen Mangi liked Biba’s attitude,” Rona said. “I hope my dreams take me to Aventurine soon. I can’t wait to see the fairy caves.”
“What was it like being a wolf?” Aunt Tuula asked.
“Awesome,” Rona said. “I learned everything I need to know for our production of Peter and the Wolf. They don’t usually cast a girl to dance the wolf, you know.”
“I know,” Aunt Tuula said.
I hurried into the kitchen to join them. Rona was seated at the island, and Aunt Tuula was cooking. “There’s the birthday girl!” Aunt Tuula’s face was smudged with flour. “We’re having blueberry pancakes with strawberry syrup and sweet sausages.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I said as I hopped up on the stool beside Rona. “I’m famished.”
“I’m not surprised, after all that gallivanting around Aventurine,�
� Aunt Tuula said, spooning pancake batter onto a hot griddle. “Did you have fun?”
“It was fun and cold and scary and so much happened I don’t know where to start.” I put my Kalis stick down and took a tangerine out of a bowl.
“You have all weekend to tell me.” Aunt Tuula poured tea into a cup and handed it to me. “Right now, we have some other very serious business to take care of.”
My hand froze on the sugar spoon. Serious usually meant trouble. “What?”
“Birthday presents!” Aunt Tuula reached under the counter and pulled out a box wrapped in lavender paper with a bright red bow. “I’m baking a cherry-chocolate cake later, but you don’t have to wait. You can open it now.”
I finished adding sugar and cream to my tea. Then, ever so carefully, I slipped off the red ribbon and peeled away the tape.
“It’s just paper, Kerka!” Rona teased. “Hurry up. The suspense is awful.”
“Okay, okay.” I liked to make the suspense last, but it was so nice to have my sister back, I ripped the paper. Aunt Tuula’s gift was an enameled box with an image of the fairy cave on the lid. “Oh, Aunt Tuula! It’s beautiful.”
“It’s a keepsake box, but there’s more. Look inside.” Aunt Tuula quickly flipped the pancakes, then turned back to watch as I raised the hinged lid.
What looked like a pile of wood and metal rested on the green felt that lined the inside of the box. I hooked my finger on a metal ring and lifted it up. The ring was part of a chain that was attached to a thatched canopy. A ceramic elf dressed exactly like the Dayling beach brother stood on a circle of wood under the thatched roof. Silver tubes dangled from the circle.
“It’s an elf wind chime!” I exclaimed. “I love it!”
“When I saw it in the shop window I couldn’t resist.” Aunt Tuula beamed. “Something told me that was your elf. I didn’t expect you to find out that Pax Lineage families and elves really are connected.”