Philippa Fisher and the Fairy's Promise

by Liz Kessler

  “How do you —”

  Chara ignored me. “And you”— she turned to Daisy —“refused to turn your friend in. We know about all of it.”

  “But how?” Daisy asked. “How do you know? And if you know about it, what are we doing sitting here being offered drinks and sweets?”

  “We know,” replied Alya, “because we set it up.”

  I have to say, I was quite glad I hadn’t helped myself to the hot chocolate, because at that point I think I might have spurted it out all over the fairies.

  “You set it up?” Daisy asked, her face a picture of baffled disbelief. “But why? How? If you knew that Philippa was the human, why did you send me off to find her? Why did you —”

  The fairy interrupted her with another silencing hand. “Wait,” she said. “We’ll tell you everything.”

  Daisy glanced at me. I gave a quick nod. “OK,” Daisy said, folding her arms. “We’re listening.”

  “First — neither of you is in any trouble,” Alya began in a soft voice. It felt soothing and warm — a bit like the hot chocolate, which we’d decided to drink after all. “Quite the contrary,” she went on. “You are a very special pair. Unique, in fact.”

  She took a sip of her drink. “Let’s go back a few thousand years. A long, long time ago, humans and fairies were very great friends. They had friendships like you would not imagine.” Alya paused and smiled at us both. “Friendships that most could not imagine, anyway,” she said. “You two can probably imagine their friendships perfectly. Our tests have proved this.”

  “Your tests?” Daisy burst out. “You’ve been playing games with us?”

  “Believe me, this is anything but a game,” Alya said seriously. “The tests we carried out were to ensure that we were right about you. That you had the kind of friendship that is needed.”

  “Needed for what?” I asked.

  “For an assignment that could save all of us,” Alya said gravely. “Listen. I’ll explain.”

  I shut my mouth tight and listened to what she had to say.

  “Many, many years ago, humans and fairies worked together on all sorts of things. Among these were the portals.” She turned to me. “In your world, they are known today as stone circles, ancient monuments whose history is unknown. The old days are so long forgotten now that many theories abound about the stone circles — their origin, their purpose. It is only the fairies who remember their true use. Indeed, today it is only fairies who can use them at all.” Alya glanced at me. “It is only fairies who can intentionally use them,” she corrected herself. “If a human gets caught up in some of the ancient magic, there is nothing we can do to prevent it from working. But this very rarely happens. So rarely, in fact, that most of us at ATC had forgotten it was even possible.”

  “But not you?” I said.

  Alya shook her head. “Even we at High Command paid very little attention to the portals anymore — until recently.”

  “The stone circles were built as portals to allow fairies and humans to travel between each other’s worlds,” Chara went on. “But they were also a testament to the friendships between these fairies and humans. Because of this, only those with the greatest bonds of friendship were able to take part in their construction, or their continued upkeep. The friendship sealed the stones in place more solidly than any cement or mortar. The friendship was what really made the circles magical. So, the human and fairy relationships and the magic contained in the circles were inseparable. You understand?”

  We nodded hurriedly, anxious for her to continue with the story.

  “Unfortunately, things began to change quite soon after the formation of these circles. Tiny hairline cracks began to emerge in the alliances between fairies and humans. As more and more humans stopped believing in fairies, the cracks became chasms, which grew bigger and bigger, and eventually led to a complete parting of the ways. Within only a few hundred years, the friendships that had once existed between humans and fairies had vanished completely.”

  Daisy coughed pointedly. The fairy looked at her. “Almost completely,” she said with a smile.

  “So what happened to the portals?” I asked.

  “The portals didn’t go anywhere,” Chara went on. “Nor did their use change. They were still gateways between the two worlds. The only difference was that humans no longer knew — or cared — how to use them. To humans, fairies were the stuff of children’s stories. They no longer believed, and with this disbelief came the denial of our existence, so we became invisible.”

  “Invisible to humans?” I asked.

  Chara nodded. “To most humans. Of course, over the years there have still been those who have believed — usually children — and they have had a sighting or two. But beyond that, it’s been as though we don’t exist.”

  “So what happened then?” Daisy asked. “If we weren’t friends with humans anymore, why did we still need the portals?”

  “Just because humans no longer believed in us, this didn’t mean that our role in their lives changed. We still continued to visit their world, to do whatever we could to protect and look after them.”

  “But why would you do that?” I asked. “If humans denied that you even existed, why keep on helping them — I mean, us?”

  Chara smiled. “Because, my dear, we need one another.”

  “But why? I mean, it’s obvious we need you. You do so much for us, like deliver our dreams and help us if something really bad happens! But why do you need us?”

  “Have you ever noticed what we are — a rain cloud, a flower, butterfly? We are a part of the earth. That’s where we get our magic. We look after humans. Humans look after the planet — or so we hope. Humans might have forgotten about our existence, but it doesn’t change the fact that we need one another in order to survive.”

  “So, go on,” Daisy said. “Tell us what happened with the portals.”

  “Each portal has a fairy to operate it,” Chara went on. “We call them the stone fairies, because they govern and control the portal stones, infusing them with fairy power so that the portals continue to operate. And the portals are all connected, so that if one ceases to work, gradually they will all break down and fail. Each of the stone fairies stays at his or her post for a hundred years.”

  “A hundred years?” I broke in. “Wow!”

  “It is a long time, yes. One of the longest of any of ATC’s assignments. These fairies are among the most important fairies in the whole of the FG world. Without them, the portals wouldn’t function, and the links between the two worlds would be closed up forever.”

  “OK,” Daisy said. “But we still don’t see why —”

  “The stone fairy at the Tidehill Rocks portal is missing,” Alya broke in.

  No one said anything for a while. After a few moments, I found my voice. “Missing?” I said. “How can a fairy be missing?”

  “We don’t know exactly how she disappeared,” Chara said. “Since the portals aren’t used much anymore, we don’t keep a close eye on their activities. This particular stone fairy is about three quarters of the way through her assignment. All we know is that she disappeared on a misty night a week and a half ago.”

  “A week and a half?” Daisy broke in. “But we’ve used it since then. I thought the portal couldn’t operate without the stone fairy.”

  “It can’t for long,” Chara said. “Since all of the portals are connected, it can draw magic from the stone fairies at the other portals, but only for a short while. The stone fairies belong to a very special FG department, whose sole role is the movement between the human and fairy worlds.”

  “That’s NMD, isn’t it?” Daisy said.

  “It is indeed.”

  “NMD — what’s that?” I asked.

  Daisy turned to me. “New Moon Department. It’s one of the most secret departments. No one knows much about it except that it controls access between the human and fairy worlds.”

  “Well, you are about to be among the few who know mo
re than that,” Chara went on. “The way these portals work is linked with the cycle of the moon. Each new moon infuses the stone fairy with the power to do his or her job and keep the portal working. This fairy’s disappearance means that the portal can only continue to operate for the rest of the current moon’s cycle. After that, if we have not found her and restored her to the portal stone, then the portal will close. And trust us, this would be disastrous — for humans and fairies alike.”

  “So why do you need us?” I asked. “How can we help you find the stone fairy?”

  “The fairy transforms on Earth as a gemstone. In this case, her name is Amber, as that is what form she takes. As a piece of amber, she was kept well out of sight at the top of the highest stone. There is magic built into the formation of the stones purely to protect their fairy. It states that if the stone fairy is ever removed from the circle, she will be kept in a safe place that can only be reached by a human and fairy together. A very special place.”

  “How special?” I asked.

  “As magical as a hole in time,” Chara replied.

  “A whole what?” I asked.

  “A hole in time,” she repeated. “The moment the fairy leaves the circle, a small tear in time opens up and she slips through it. She is kept safe on the other side, in a place where time is frozen at the exact moment that she left the circle.”

  I stared hard at Chara, wondering if at some point someone was going to jump out and tell me this whole thing was one big joke.

  “I still don’t see how we fit in,” Daisy said.

  “Since this portal was made to connect the fairy and human worlds, in order to protect it from anyone who may not have good intentions, only a fairy and human pair with a strong bond can travel together freely to and from this special place. The human and fairy have to have a friendship worthy of the portal’s magic,” Chara replied. “A type of friendship that was once commonplace, but which is now virtually nonexistent.”

  “A friendship that could pass the highest loyalty test,” Alya continued. Then she paused and looked slowly from Daisy to me and back again.

  “A friendship like ours,” Daisy said.

  “Without this friendship, a human or a fairy can get into the place of safety, but cannot get out again,” Alya went on. “This rule was sealed into the magic of the stones — so that if a day ever came when either fairy or human tried to steal the portal’s magic, they could not get far. As soon as the stone fairy is taken outside of the circle, she is transported to this place, and her captor is transported there too. They will both remain trapped there until the human and fairy pair retrieve them. Then the stone fairy will be brought back to the circle to fulfill her assignment. And the person who has stolen her has a choice — come back with her and face punishment for the crime —”

  “Or be stuck wandering around forever in a place where everything except for them is frozen in time,” I finished.

  Alya smiled at me. “You are a quick learner,” she said.

  Chara continued. “The commitment of friendship was part of the magic,” she said. “If the day came when the stone fairy was removed and such friendships no longer existed, it would be impossible to get her back. Humans and fairies agreed that if this day ever came, the portals would no longer need to work; they figured the two worlds could part company forever if that were the case. But they failed to see what the long-term implications of that would be.”

  “So the stone fairy would be trapped in that place?” Daisy asked.

  Chara looked at Daisy. “As you know, all fairy godmothers take their assignments very seriously,” she said. “And none more than the stone fairies,” she went on. “When a stone fairy is appointed, she makes a solemn promise of commitment to the stone circle — and to the fairy godmother world. She is given one of the most important tasks there is, to maintain the link between the two worlds, and in exchange she agrees to give her power to the portal.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “What power does she give the portal?”

  “The power to transport,” Chara said. “In order to permit the fairies, or humans, to move between the two worlds, the stone fairy gives up her power to do the same.”

  “A fairy can do that?”

  “Absolutely,” Chara said. “Any fairy who is willing to make such a sacrifice is special and powerful enough to do this. By promising to give the circle her power, her magic and the circle’s become one and the same.”

  “And even with all this, you would still agree to abandon her to the land of frozen time if things went wrong? After everything she’d sacrificed?” I asked.

  Chara looked at me. “You must remember, the portals were built in very different times from these. No one imagined that such a day would ever come.”

  I let out a breath that I felt I’d been holding for the whole conversation. It was just so much to take in. “And you’re absolutely sure about all this?” I asked.

  Alya clicked her fingers and the room went dark. Behind her, a bright white wall appeared with a slight crackling sound, like an old movie was running. And then the pictures appeared on the wall.

  “These are the latest image predictions from EDD,” she said.

  “What’s EDD?” I whispered to Daisy.

  “You don’t want to know!” she whispered back.

  “Daisy!” I whispered again, more insistently. “Tell me!”

  “Emergencies, Disasters, and Doom,” she said reluctantly. “You don’t ignore a prediction from them.”

  “As you can see,” Alya was saying over hundreds of images of stone circles losing their color, then crumbling and becoming circles of dust in the ground, “the first thing that happens is that the portal’s breakdown spreads to all the other portals.” The picture changed to an image of a rainbow, then another, and another, until the screen was filled with rainbows. Then in between the rainbows came pictures of rays of sun and shooting stars — and then every single one disappeared, turned to gray, dissolved into dust like the stone circles.

  “The breakdown will soon spread to all other methods of transportation and communication until fairies have no interaction at all with the human world,” Alya said. “Initially, the consequences would be relatively minor. A little less color in the world, a little less light. A few tears falling without being caught, a few wishes unanswered. And of course — no more dreams. Do you know how much people value their dreams?”

  I shook my head.

  “Enough to make them desperate for sleep. EDD has shown us that people’s sleeping patterns can go haywire just so they can have a dream! The tiredness alone will lead to many accidents.” She snapped her fingers, and a new screen came up. People slumped over desks, falling asleep in their cars, on buses, out walking their dogs. There was even one of a pilot falling asleep while flying a plane!

  “There will be many accidents, more and more all the time. And with no MTB to determine which disasters can be prevented, and no SRB to help people cope with the terrible things that are unavoidable, the world will soon be in complete disarray.”

  She showed more pictures: scenes of disaster, each one more devastating than the last. Multiple car pileups, houses on fire, fights in the streets — all set against a world that became grayer and duller with every picture.

  “And of course, there is nature itself,” Alya said somberly. “If fairies are unable to visit Earth, everything that lives and grows will eventually die out completely.” She snapped her fingers once more. “This is EDD’s prediction for the world in just a hundred years.”

  The last picture was the most shocking of them all. There were no trees. No plants. Hardly an animal. The shot scanned the face of the planet and found nothing but desert.

  Alya snapped her fingers, and the screen went black. The four of us sat in the darkness in silence.

  I cleared my throat. “So let me get this right,” I said shakily. “Daisy and I have to go to the portal, somehow get through a hole in time, find the stone fairy, and br
ing her back.”

  “Correct,” Alya said.

  “And we have to do this before the next new moon, because the portal can only keep working for the rest of this moon’s cycle.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And if we don’t succeed, this”— I pointed to the now blank screen —“is EDD’s prediction for the future?”

  The fairy nodded.

  “And what about us?” I asked. “If we get in there, but don’t get back out in time, what happens to us?”

  Alya cleared her throat. Chara looked away.

  “What?” Daisy asked.

  “When the new moon rises, the hole in time is sealed,” she said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It means . . .” Chara began. Then she stopped.

  Alya continued for her. “It means . . .” She paused. Then she looked slowly from Daisy to me and back again. “It means you would be stuck there forever.”

  I stared at her. Could she really be asking this of us? Was there honestly any way in the world we could possibly take on such a task when the stakes were so high? Then I thought about the pictures. Could we really not do it?

  “When is the next new moon due to rise?” Daisy asked.

  “Just after midnight on New Year’s Eve.”

  “New Year’s Eve!” I blurted out. “You’re kidding! That’s tonight!”

  “Exactly,” Alya said. “Now you understand the urgency and the importance of this task.”

  I tried to take in what they were saying. It was impossible! It was crazy! There was no way we could take on such an enormous task.

  I was about to open my mouth to say so, but Daisy spoke first. “We do understand,” she said, “and we are honored that you’ve asked us.” And then, with a brief look at me, and clearly misunderstanding my stunned silence for agreement, she added, “We’ll do it.”

  “Let’s get to work,” Alya said.

  I opened my mouth to protest. Did they realize what they were asking of us? But each time I was about to say something, to tell them they’d made a mistake and I wasn’t going to do it, I thought of those images they’d shown us. It was so hard to believe. But it was true. Those things would happen — and only Daisy and I could stop them.