by Susha Golomb
“It’s a flea,” Farthingale said dryly. “It’s what they do. It’s all they do. Eat and jump.”
“And have baby fleas,” Poppy said cheerfully. “Come on, Farthingale. Let’s get it.” She flew up to Tefnut’s ear and stuck her head in.
“Yoo-hoo, Mrs. Flee-ea? Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Tefnut shook her head and twitched her ear. Poppy fell off, catching herself midair.
“Sorry, Tefnut,” she said.
“I’ll get it,” Farthingale called. “You poof it.” She held a long stick out in front of her and flew up to join Poppy.
Farthingale half disappeared into Tefnut’s fur and came out again holding the flea in a kind of bag on a stick. Oh, of course, that’s what it was, a butterfly net. I could only see shapes in the dark and was half guessing at what was going on.
“Got it,” Farthingale cried, holding the net away from herself. “Poof it, Poppy. Quickly, before it gets away,” she said happily.
“Poof!” Poppy said, and it was gone, net and all. At least I think it was. It was so dark, maybe Farthingale had just put it behind her back to fool me.
“Is it dead?” I asked.
“No, of course not,” Poppy said. “It’s just gone.”
“But, where did it go?” I pressed.
“I don’t know where it goes,” Poppy said. “But it’s not here.”
“You mean it could be on the other side of the world or something?”
“No, it doesn’t go far,” Farthingale said. “It’s probably still somewhere in your neighborhood.”
“Yeah, lying in wait for poor Tefnut to come walking by again,” Poppy giggled.
“Climb up, Miriam,” Farthingale said. “We must be almost there.”
Using her fur, I half climbed and half pulled myself up. My climbing must have been a lot more annoying than a flea, but Tefnut didn’t seem to mind.
“Hurry up,” Farthingale said. “Can’t you climb any faster?”
“Of course, I can.” Reluctantly, I sped up. The thought of accidentally bumping into another flea gave me the creeps.
Poppy apparently included mind reading among her skills.
“It’s really hard to get close to a flea,” she said to me. “They always see you first. The only reason Farthingale caught that one so fast is because she has a lot of practice. Besides, Tefnut hardly ever has fleas.”
“Are all fairies good at catching fleas?” I asked, relieved.
“Most fairies don’t have cats for friends,” Farthingale said as I hauled myself up next to them on Tefnut’s neck.
Tefnut was purring again. It was like sitting on the hood of a car with the engine running, only friendlier. I lay quietly as she walked, enjoying the familiar furry warmth.
Everything was happening too quickly for me to sort out. Farthingale and Poppy were straight out of a picture book. They were so nice. Too nice. Real fairies should be…would be…well, more real.
They talked a lot, but what did they tell me? I don’t really know where I’m going or why. Something about wings. No, wing buds. What the hell is a wing bud? It sounded painful.
And why haven’t they said anything about my sister yet? Is it a surprise? Maybe this wing bud thing is a kind of initiation I have to do before I’m allowed to meet her.
In less than a minute the darkness started to fade. It got brighter and I had to close my eyes. When I opened them again, we were out. Completely out.
“Welcome,” Farthingale said. “Welcome to Ardu.”
I looked out from the mouth of the tunnel onto a sea of meadow grass, not unlike the stuff I had to wade through to get Miriam to the garden. Nothing unusual to look at, but gourmet in the smell department. That same old magic that I knew so well. My whiskers haven’t tingled like this since I left Ailuria for good, ten years ago.
Not that the last ten years haven’t been pretty good. I have my house, with its windows, pillows, and warm spots. Outside, my own private hunting preserve. It’s true that nights can be boring for a house cat, but not where I live. Miriam’s room always had kitty TV. Real living things that I could watch, smell, and occasionally have a conversation with. Not to mention the great flea removal service.
My adopted home is nothing like my homeland. It’s better. Ailuria is for the young and the ambitious and as long as I have any say in the matter, I’m never going back.
CHAPTER 12
FOUR AND A HALF MORE FAIRY GODMOTHERS
The misty drizzle I had left behind when I walked over the bridge was back. Warm air rising off the forest of wet grass smelled good and felt even better.
All around me, things were growing. The tiny nodding flowers of the blue-eyed grass seemed as big as grapefruits to my little eyes. Wild pansies trailed along the ground like giant stepping stones in the spaces between the grass plants and in the distance, I could see a lone dandelion plant as big as a house, its flowers looming up over the grass forest like an anorexic giant redwood tree with a bad haircut.
“Hurry up, Miriam,” Farthingale said, launching herself off Tefnut’s back. “We’re almost there.”
Tefnut lay down so that I could slide off. Deep, fresh puddles were all over the place. My toes wiggled with anticipation. But reinforcements showed up before my feet even touched the ground.
Four more dragonfly fairies, flying fast, came barreling out of the mist and landed in front of us before I had a chance to stomp a single puddle.
Four more tiny people, all bigger than I was, landed in front of me. We stared at each other for a moment.
One of them stepped forward. She was dressed in floppy blue pants and had curly black hair that was cut short, showing off a graceful neck.
“Miriam,” Poppy said, in a shy-excited voice, “This is my husband, Amber.” I did a double take. The she was a he?
“You mean there are boy fairies too?” I blurted. “I didn’t know that.” Amber raised his eyebrows and smirked at me.
I squished my lips together before something worse came out, trying to smile at the same time and ending up with a sort of shrunken grimace.
“How was he?” Poppy said to Amber.
“Fine,” Amber said. “Mostly, he napped.” Reaching around to a knapsack that fit between his wings, Amber brought out the prettiest little baby I’d ever seen.
Nothing like the round and chubby human babies I was used to, this little one had a slim, delicate body, a narrow face like his parents’ and his father’s jet-black eyes. He was so lively that all the other babies I had ever seen seemed fat and lumpy by comparison.
I instantly ceased being the center of attention. Everyone turned to play with the baby, making silly noises and sillier faces.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Yofie,” Amber said, handing him to me.
“Ooooh,” I cooed. “He’s sooo nice. Thank you.” I held him close and breathed in the soft, clean baby smell while he melted me with his eyes. Then he saw Poppy, and reached out. I knew when I wasn’t wanted, and handed him over with a lingering touch.
“I’m old enough to baby-sit,” I said.
“That would be nice,” Poppy answered, smiling. But the smile was for Amber and Yofie. I doubt she actually heard me.
“Yofie always wins the popularity contest wherever we go,” one of the new fairies said with a rough happy laugh. “It’s because we hardly ever have babies.” Poppy looked away from Yofie long enough to give her a really dirty look.
“Of course,” the new fairy added still laughing, “Yofie would get all the attention even in a roomful of babies. Right, Poppy?” The speaker was head-to-toe yellow, from her hair to her dress to her wings. Even her skin looked lightly tinted with sunshine.
“Ahem.” It was Farthingale taking charge again. “Miriam, we would like you to meet the rest of The Six:
“This is Shadow,” she said. A fairy with green cat’s eyes gave me a quiet smile. Her long gray dress was flecked with silver.
“Augusta�
�” Farthingale nodded at the fairy who had just spoken. Augusta was wearing a bright yellow one-shoulder job. Tons of stiff yellow silk flared out from a sparkling gold belt and kept going until its heavy swirls hit the floor. I wanted that dress. It had Prom written all over it.
I reached down self-consciously to tug at the hem of my T-shirt, remembering that I probably looked like Cinderella before the Ball.
“May I help you with that?” Shadow said, stepping forward. She reached out tentatively and when I didn’t object, let her hands come to rest on my shoulders. The eye contact was intense. I could feel my faded purple T-shirt start to go with the flow.
“How’s that,” she said, stepping back after a moment. I stared down at myself. I was still wearing a T-shirt with a pocket on the chest and it was still purple, but nobody would ever call this dark, rich, plum color faded.
And it was still cotton, only now it was the sheerest, silkiest cotton that I had ever felt. And… it was still growing, longer and wider, even after Shadow had stepped away.
My comfy old t-shirt felt like a silky snake slowly winding its way around my body. Snakes are not my favorite pets. Even purple ones.
“Hey, make it stop,” I said, when it started to creep out onto the floor.
It stopped.
“Here, Miriam. Catch.” Augusta took off her gold belt and tossed it to me. Once I had the belt on, the dress got shorter and I could see my toes again.
“Take this, too,” Poppy said. She handed Yofie to Amber and took off her necklace, a black velvet choker with one big ruby-red jewel and handed it to me.
“Thank you, Poppy,” I said, tying it around my neck. “It’s beautiful.” Everybody was dressed up, now I was too. I couldn’t see how I looked, but I felt beautiful. I relaxed.
I did the twirl thing, just a little. “Do I look like a real fairy? Except for the wing thing of course,” I added.
“Well, we’ll see what we can do about that later,” Farthingale said. “Say hello to Dragonbreath, and let’s go.”
“How do you do,” I said to the last fairy. She had on a short green tunic that matched her wings. But she also had short, dark hair like Amber, so I wondered.
I must have been staring too hard at Dragonbreath because Farthingale answered my unspoken question.
“Dragonbreath is my son, Miriam.” I think I blushed. I looked from mother to son, and they definitely looked more alike than different, although I couldn’t have told you why.
“Why don’t I walk with Miriam?” he said, stepping up to me. “The rest of you can fly ahead and we’ll meet up with you at the Speaking Rock.”
“Are you kidding?” Augusta said, linking her arm in mine. “This is the first time any of us have talked with Miriam since she was a baby. We’re all coming.”
Miriam being still wingless, I should offer them a ride, but my tail was twitching relentlessly, not letting me forget that I am descended from a long line of superb hunters. I ducked back into the mouth of the tunnel and switched into my best sneaky stalking mode.
Pleasure first, duty later. Besides, I’ve already been introduced. The Six and I are old friends.
The first year, all they did was play with Miriam. Never missed a night. All I did was stand guard. Fairies are gaga about babies. If you ever want to see someone go ballistic with happiness, watch fairies, any fairies, around babies.
I never figured out why. Nothing but a bunch of boring lumps as far as I’m concerned. Not like kittens. Couple of days, a week at the outside, kittens talk; play; fight; argue. You want adorable, lovable, it’s kittens all the way.
The six kept Miriam up all night every night with their silliness while I watched out for anxious parents. Every middle-of-the-night bathroom trip was an excuse for a ‘I-just-want-to-make-sure-she’s-still-breathing’ visit from the new Mom. Rose and Harry never wondered why Miriam slept so much in the daytime. They were too grateful.
Once Miriam grew into toddler-hood, The Six couldn’t trust her not to blow their cover. They only came while she was asleep. Visits became less frequent and more sedate. I was their best source of how she was doing and who she was becoming.
The seven of us watched her grow. Even I grew sort of fond of her. I really like my humans, but with Miriam, it’s something that’s a little more than like, not that I would ever admit this to another cat.
The last couple of years they kept coming, but less and less often. Mostly it was just Poppy and Farthingale. I think it’s because they’re both parents. My theory is that they secretly think of Miriam as a baby sister to Dragonbreath and a big sister to Yofie.
It was Poppy and Farthingale who pushed for Arduian citizenship for Miriam and for that I will be forever grateful. I couldn’t have done it without them.
CHAPTER 13
THE BIG QUESTION
“I guess I’ll lead,” Shadow said when no one else offered. She drifted up into the air, looking completely relaxed, except for her wings, which were set to bumblebee speed. “This way,” she called, as soon as she got her bearings. The rest of us set out on foot through the tall grass, pushing the damp blades out of the way and keeping an eye on Shadow.
I smiled and nodded whenever anyone seemed to be talking to me. It worked. No one noticed that I wasn’t really there. I was thinking hard about how to ask a certain question.
Augusta was still holding my arm, so I gave it a tug to get her attention. She turned to me with an absent smile, still listening to the others.
“Augusta?” I started out, choosing my words carefully. “This place we’re going to. Will there be a lot of other people there?”
“Hmm? People? Oh, yes, everyone will be there.
“No, they didn’t,” she called out to Dragonbreath who had moved ahead of us. They were still arguing about something that happened when I was a baby. I gave her arm another pull.
“Who’s everyone? I asked. “Just dragonfly fairies, or will there be other people? You know, like me.” Augusta turned to me with a big grin on her face.
“See for yourself, Miriam.” She stepped in front of me and pushed aside a thick tangle of grass.
“We’re here.”
The grass ended abruptly and was replaced by a moss-covered clearing filled with dragonfly fairies. The air was thick with their colors. And the moment I stuck my head out into the open, it was filled with their cheering, as well. In the middle of the clearing was a big flat topped rock, also moss covered.
“That’s Speaking Rock,” Augusta hollered. Beyond the rock, on the other side of the clearing was a big triple-trunked beech tree with a tree house in it.
“Hey, wait a minute. That’s my tree house. It’s my tree. But this isn’t my yard. Where’s my house.”
Everyone was making so much noise by this time that I didn’t think anyone heard me. But Farthingale stepped up next to me and spoke into my ear.
“Don’t worry, Miriam, everything is okay. Just come this way. We’re ready to start.”
I heard the cheering and hurried to catch up. I am really looking forward to this, I thought. If everything goes well at Speaking Rock, Miriam will have safe passage into Ardu and The Greater Elf Kingdom for life, and from Ardu, it’s only a hop, skip and a jump to Ailuria. My life of leisure will be secure and I’ll never have to go back there again.
CHAPTER 14
THE WING BUD CEREMONY AT SPEAKING ROCK
The noise got noisier as Tefnut stepped out into the open just behind us.
“Look, here comes Tefnut!” someone called out and a second later, they were all over her like mosquitoes at summer camp. I guess she’s been here before.
Tefnut dropped her head in a queenly gesture of modest acknowledgment just before being bombarded by dozens of fairies who all wanted a good seat for the ceremony. No wonder they were glad to see her.
There must have been a hundred little hands all scratching at once. That had to be one happy cat.
“Shhh!” someone said. “They’re starting.” Farthingal
e had flown ahead to the Speaking Rock and was trying to shush the crowd.
Tefnut shook her head, and three or four fairies flew off her face. I guess she wanted to be able to see what was going on. They obligingly found seats further back.
Augusta and Dragonbreath moved in on me like a pair of well trained drill sergeants each of them grabbing an elbow. I tried to step forward and noticed that my toes were no longer touching the ground.
I was hurried through the crowd and deposited on the rock next to Farthingale before I could complain. The silence that corresponded with my touchdown was sudden and deafening. Farthingale gave me a long, warm smile. It looked like one of my mother’s mush-smiles. I got ready for one of those ‘let me tell you how much we love you – in great and boring detail,’ speeches.
“Well, Miriam,” Farthingale said, turning to speak to the hushed crowd.
“On the occasion of your tenth birthday, we wish to publicly acknowledge our great affection for you, and welcome you into our community. We all hope that a true friendship will grow between us and, in anticipation of that tie, we wish to present you with two gifts.” She reached into a pocket in her skirt and took out a small drawstring bag.
“Every dragonfly fairy,” she said, “has a sampo. They get it when they’re ready to begin their education to encourage them to study hard, because the more you know, the better it works.
“Miriam,” she said, “we want you to have one, too, and we hope that your sampo will help you to make yourself into everything you wish to be.” Farthingale held out the plain, gray bag that looked like something made from an old bandanna, a very old bandanna.
It took a moment before I realized that the bag was the “sampo” she was talking about and that everyone was waiting for me to take it. I did.
The sun was in my eyes, so I wasn’t sure, but as soon as the sampo was in my hand, the color seemed to change from gray to blue-gray and purple. I guess I looked a little confused as I tried to mumble the requisite thank you.
“I think she wants to know what it is,” I heard someone say. This was followed by a chorus of stifled giggles.
“It’s in the bag, Miriam,” someone else called out, followed by a lot of good-natured laughter.
“What?” I didn’t understand.