by Kiki Thorpe
Vidia took off after her. She meant to cut Wisp off. But she didn’t get far. A blast of smoke and heat drove her back. The fire was raging now.
Vidia watched the leaping fire quickly circle the meadow. It raced ahead of Wisp, cutting her off. Wisp turned to go back the way she’d come, but another wall of flames blocked her.
Wisp was trapped.
VIDIA HEARD SHOUTS behind her. Tinker Bell and the other pots-and-pans fairies flew up. They had spotted the fire from the Home Tree.
“It’s even bigger than before!” Tink exclaimed. Then she saw Wisp. “What’s she doing out there? Doesn’t she know it’s dangerous?”
Vidia just shook her head. It was too much to explain. More fairies were rushing toward them—water talents, garden talents, animal talents. Everyone had come to help with the fire.
Vidia turned to leave. There was no point in sticking around to get burned up, too.
But as she spread her wings, Vidia paused. Maybe she remembered the fun she’d had racing Wisp. Or maybe it was just that Vidia wasn’t as heartless as everyone thought. For whatever reason, Vidia turned back to the fire.
The pots-and-pans fairies formed a chain with water buckets. Someone thrust a bucket into Vidia’s hands. She threw the water on the fire. But the thimble-sized bucket only held a few drops. It had no effect on the blaze.
Vidia could see Wisp hopping around. She was still searching for an escape. But it was impossible to fly now. The smoke was too thick, and the sparks were too dangerous. Vidia caught glimpses of Wisp’s face between the flames. For the first time ever, Wisp looked terrified.
It serves her right, Vidia thought angrily. She got herself into this mess. She can get herself out. Wisp’s eyes met Vidia’s. Vidia could almost see her asking for help.
Vidia tossed her long ponytail. I can’t just leave her, she decided.
She looked around. Fairies shouted to each other. Water talents hurled water balls at the fire. Animal talents herded the meadow creatures to safety.
Then Vidia noticed the animal-talent fairy Fawn. She was coaxing a confused groundhog out of his hole. Watching her, Vidia got an idea.
She flew over to Fawn. “That groundhog tunnel. How far does it go?” Vidia asked.
“Huh?” Fawn looked up from the groundhog.
Vidia wanted to shake her. Why were all fairies so stupidly slow? “The tunnel you just came out of!” she yelled. “Does it go under the whole meadow?”
“Yes, most of it,” Fawn said, finally understanding.
“Is there an entrance over there?” Vidia asked. She pointed to the part of the meadow where Wisp was trapped.
“Yes.” Fawn nodded. “A small one, I think. More like an airhole.”
“Tell me how to get there from here,” Vidia commanded.
Fawn scrunched up her face. “Start straight. Turn left at the second fork. Turn right. Then it’s on your left. I think that’s the way, at least.”
“It had better be,” Vidia snarled. If she got lost in the groundhog tunnels and roasted like a potato, she would blame Fawn.
Vidia dove into the entrance. The tunnel near Mother Dove’s nest was always cool, but this one was hot from the fire overhead. It also smelled musty, like groundhogs.
“‘Straight…left at the second fork…,’” Vidia repeated. She wanted to speed. But the only light she had was her glow. She had to fly slowly so that she wouldn’t miss a turn.
Vidia crept through the tunnel. She came to a fork. But was it the first or second? She wasn’t sure.
Stuck in the hot, dark, airless tunnel, Vidia started to panic.
“Stop it!” she told herself. She pushed down the panic and moved on. At last she came to what she thought was the right hole. It was tiny, and covered by grass. If Fawn’s directions were good, Wisp should be right overhead.
Then again, if they weren’t good, she might be roasted to a crisp.
Vidia took a deep breath and flew upward. She heard the flames crackling. When she poked her head out, the heat felt like a blast from an oven.
Right away, she saw Wisp. She was clinging to the only patch of grass that hadn’t yet burned.
“Vidia?” Wisp cried. She looked as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. “You came to save me?”
Vidia grabbed her hand. “Come on, before I change my mind,” she said.
Vidia and Wisp squeezed through the hole and hurried back along the tunnel. They couldn’t even fly. Wisp’s wings were too scorched.
Finally, they felt cooler air. Vidia and Wisp crawled out of the tunnel, gasping for breath. Vidia closed her eyes and swallowed hard. They had made it. They were safe.
She led Wisp to a patch of moss and told her to lie down. “I’ll get a nursing fairy,” Vidia said.
But Wisp grasped at her hand. “Will I ever be able to fly again?” she asked.
Vidia snorted. “You’ll be fine,” she said, shaking her hand free. “I’ve seen worse wingburns from a candle flame.”
“I shouldn’t have stolen your fairy dust,” Wisp said. She was crying now. “I’d fly backward if I could. I was a fool to keep racing like that. I owe you my life, Vidia.”
Vidia’s face twisted into a smirk. “Your life?” she said. “And what would I want with a silly thing like that? After all, you’re just a foolish little fairy. Only the second-best flier in Pixie Hollow.”
Then, with a toss of her long hair, Vidia headed off to find the nursing talent. She flew at just the right speed to keep from fanning the flames, as only the very best fast-flying fairy could.
