Dedication
for
Linda, Jane,
and Carol
Contents
Dedication
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Fairy Secrets
Excerpt from Christmas Fairy Magic
Back Ad
About the Author
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Map
one
In Fairyland, from the far outer isles to the mainland to Sheepskerry Island, where the Fairy Bell sisters live, springtime means spring-cleaning. As the hummingbirds play and the apple blossoms cover the ground with snowy flowers, fairies everywhere clean out their dresser drawers and beat their rugs and take down curtains for their twice-a-year wash.
At the Fairy Bell household, the long week of spring-cleaning was nearly done.
“Has anyone seen Sylva?” Clara called to her fairy sisters. She was ironing their best linen napkins, the ones with lace on the edges.
“I think she went up to Queen Mab’s again—to the petting zoo,” said Rosy. She and baby Squeak were scrubbing the breadboard. Or Rosy was scrubbing the breadboard. Squeak was having fun with flour.
“Squeak!” said Squeak.
“That zoo could use a spring-cleaning,” said Goldie as she plumped a pillow. “Animals can get awfully stinky.”
“I’m not at the petting zoo and animals don’t get stinky if you take care of them,” Sylva called from her room. “Plus, I did all the zoo cleaning yesterday.” She was proud of the way she took care of Queen Mab’s animals. “Queen Mab says I’m a natural.”
“You may be a natural at cleaning animals’ rooms, but what about your own? Have you cleaned under your bed yet?”
“I’m just doing it now!” Sylva said. She peeked under the bed. “Oops,” she said. “What a disaster.” Sylva didn’t want to spend a lot of time sorting through the muddle of shoe bags and clothes and books and shells and twigs and paints that she stored behind her bed ruffle, so with a mighty push she shoved them toward the wall, swabbed the mop around quickly, and decided she was finished.
She flew to the top of the stairs. “Can I please go out now, Clara?” she asked. “Poppy promised she’d be ready to go to the jumble pile the minute I put down my mop.”
The jumble pile was the best part of spring-cleaning. All the Sheepskerry fairies brought their unwanted items to Queen Mab’s palace and left them on her bright green lawn. What a treasure trove it was! Goldie found an antique kimono in the jumble pile one year, which Queen Mab said had come from an island terribly far away. Rosy claimed a funny little bouncer seat for Squeakie only last spring, and for weeks on end, Squeak had bounced up and down every morning while Rosy warmed her bottle.
Sylva had yet to find anything really worth calling a treasure in the jumble pile. She’d picked up some dented thimbles and a couple of waterlogged books, but she’d never had a real find.
“If you don’t say I’m finished with my chores, I’m going to burst!” said Sylva. “We’ve got to get up there before the other fairies take the good stuff. I bet those Seaside sisters have already taken everything I would have liked.”
“You’re done, Sylva,” said Clara. “In fact, I think we’re all done. Good job. You can go up there whenever you—”
And before Clara could finish her sentence, Sylva was out the door.
“I’ll find treasure for all my sisters,” she said. “And something very special just for me!”
two
I trust you already know about the Fairy Bell sisters. If you have not met them yet, or even if you have, I’ll present them to you now. Here are:
They are Tinker Bell’s little sisters—yes, that Tinker Bell—and they live in a fairy house on Sheepskerry Island, which is, in fact, not far from where you are reading this right now. There’s a map of the island at the front of this book, but you won’t find it in any atlases used by grown-ups. Magic islands don’t show up on ordinary maps.
The Fairy Bell sisters loved one another very much and got along together without fighting—at least most of the time. And though Sylva loved all her sisters dearly (even Goldie), there was one fairy in all the world she considered her very best friend. And that was Poppy Flower.
Poppy and Sylva were almost exactly the same age. They had known each other since they first popped into the world. They liked all the same things and dressed the same way and sat next to each other at school and played with each other whenever they could. They were even heroes together on the night of the Fairy Ball last summer (even if Sylva was a little bit more of a hero than Poppy).
Two better friends you would never meet. You might even have a best friend, just as Sylva does, and I’m sure you love your friend very much indeed. Maybe you have always been kind and good to your best friend and you two have never exchanged a harsh word. Maybe everything has always been smooth sailing with your best friend and you’ve never had a stormy moment. Maybe you and your best friend are in complete harmony. And maybe you won’t want to read this book.
But if you love your best friend dearly, and want to do everything together, but sometimes—just sometimes—you get a tiny bit cross, and say something you don’t quite mean, and drive your friend away, only to find you can’t really live without each other . . . then you’re very much like Sylva. So turn the page quickly, dear reader. Turn the page and read on.
three
How glad I am that you turned the page!
four
Sylva flew over to the Flower sisters’ fairy house.
“Poppy!” she called. “Poppy, I’m all done! Let’s go!”
“Nearly finished,” Poppy said brightly. She had a kerchief tied over her hair and dust smudges on the tip of her nose. “I just have to sweep the floorboards in the attic and wash my face and I’ll be done, too.”
Sylva was just about to suggest that she meet Poppy up at the jumble pile when Poppy flew back up to the attic. “Don’t leave without me!” Poppy said.
Sylva didn’t really want to help with any more chores, but she knew things would go faster with two fairies working together. “I’ll do the sweeping,” she said with a sigh, “and you wash up. That way, we won’t waste any time.”
Poppy went off to wash her face and hands, and Sylva made a very quick dash around the attic with a broom. The dust was thick on the floorboards and made a cloud around Sylva as she furiously swept. “Why didn’t Poppy do this already?” she grumbled. She made her way from one end of the attic to the other, kicking up dust as she went.
“All set,” called Poppy as she came back up the attic stairs. She could hardly see for the clouds of dust. “Sylva?” she called between coughs. “Whatever are you doing?”
“I’m sweeping!” said Sylva, coughing too.
“Not like that!” Poppy said, laughing. “You have to dampen dust before you sweep it.” She went over to a small bucket of water in the corner of the attic. “I’ll do it, Sylva. It won’t take a minute.”
Sylva knew that Poppy’s laugh was not meant to be unkind, but still, it hurt a little bit. Sylva had just been trying to help! And how was she supposed to know that Poppy used water to help her sweep?
“There, all done,” said Poppy.
“Let’s go!” said Sylva.
“Hang on just one more minute while we wash the dust off our faces. We can’t show up at Queen Mab’s palace like this.”
Sylva splashed some springwater on her face as Poppy carefully used a facecloth to get all the smudges off. “Come on, Poppy. We’ll miss everything.”
“There’s tons of stuff in the jumble pile, Sylva. We won’t miss a thing.”
five
“Faster, Poppy!” said Sylva.
Lacey Cobweb flew up as they approached. “Are you going to the jumble pile? You’ve missed almost everything!” she said. “The Bakewell sisters took some cookie trays—the ones that weren’t bashed up. And the Seaside sisters took a collection of sea glass that Avery had brought up from the schoolhouse attic. It’s a lucky thing there were no blues, or Goldie would have grabbed them out of their hands!”
“Did someone mention my name?” asked Goldie. “And, by the way, notice anything different about me?” Goldie swept down from the other side of the jumble pile, wearing a hat the size of a small tabletop.
“Your shoelace is untied?” asked Sylva.
“No, my hat is fabulous!” said Goldie. “You two should hurry. Lady Courtney is getting rid of some stuff from the basement of the palace. But I think most of the best things are gone.”
Sylva couldn’t bear the thought that she might have missed out on treasures again. All because of Poppy.
“Come on, Poppy, we have to get over there before it’s all taken.”
Sylva and Poppy flew to the back of the palace. As short a trip as it was, it still gave them enough time to see lots of other fairies with their hands full of great finds.
“Can you believe Queen Mab doesn’t want these beads?” asked Fern Stitch. “I’ll sew them onto a bag I’m making for Stemmy’s birthday. Don’t tell her.”
Sylva sped up her flight.
“Look at what I found!” cried Shellie Seaside. “Driftwood in the shape of a baby whale.”
There’ll be nothing left for me! Sylva thought.
By the time Sylva and Poppy arrived at the lawn of Queen Mab’s palace, the jumble pile was not much of a pile at all. It was just a bunch of odds and ends spread out like rubbish on the lawn. Tears pricked Sylva’s eyes. She had missed out again.
Of course there were a few things that looked nice—a pretty blue button that would have been prettier if it hadn’t been broken in two; a teacup with a crack right down the middle; a baby’s chair with three legs . . . and no seat.
Sylva almost said something about how they could have gotten there earlier if Poppy hadn’t insisted on dampening the dust, but she thought Poppy might already be feeling bad, and she didn’t want to make her feel worse.
Sylva was just about to head sadly back to the Bell fairy house with her one broken button and the cracked teacup when they caught sight of Queen Mab’s attendant. Lady Courtney was flying slowly out of the palace, with something very large in her arms.
“Heigh-ho, here’s Lady Courtney,” said Sylva.
“She’ll probably tell us we’re not allowed to touch anything,” said Poppy.
“Or that we need to curtsy before we approach the jumble pile.” They both giggled. “I think she needs help,” said Sylva. “That’s a huge crate she’s carrying.”
The two fairies flew over to Lady Courtney, who was indeed struggling under the weight of a large crate, which looked very old.
“Sylva, Poppy, good afternoon to you,” said Lady Courtney.
“May we help you, Lady Courtney?” asked Sylva, using her best manners. “That looks awfully heavy.”
“It is heavy,” said Lady Courtney. She set the box down with a rattling thump. “Whew! These wings aren’t getting any younger.”
“Probably a whole box of broken plates and cups,” whispered Sylva.
“Plus some dirty old pieces of string,” Poppy whispered back. She and Sylva giggled again.
“Are you two the only fairies here?” asked Lady Courtney. “I think you’re in luck.”
Sylva and Poppy flew over to the crate. It had a latch on the front and opened quite easily. Inside was not a jumble of old rubbish that no one would want. Inside was something so marvelous that Sylva and Poppy could hardly believe it.
six
“A fairy dollhouse!”
Sylva and Poppy slowly, carefully lifted the dollhouse out of its crate. There was not a scratch or a dent on it. It was in perfect condition.
“It must be very old,” said Poppy in a whisper.
“Oh look, it’s got everything!” said Sylva. “What a sweet couch in the sitting room.” She ran her finger across the dark-red fabric. “It’s velvet!”
“Look at the curtains in the bedroom,” said Poppy. “Lace!”
“Ooh! The kitchen has tiny little pots and pans hanging on the wall. I think they’re real copper!” She looked around some more.
Sylva had always wanted a fairy dollhouse of her own. The one at the Bell sisters’ fairy house was Tink’s first. Then it got passed down to Clara, then to Rosy, and then to Goldie. By the time it got to Sylva a couple of years ago, it was pretty much destroyed.
But this one—
“It has an attic!” cried Poppy. “With hardly any dust.” She gave Sylva a playful nudge. Sylva nudged her back.
Lady Courtney bestowed a rare smile on them both. “Maybe it was magic that brought you here at the exact right moment,” she said. “What a treasure you have found. It’s yours now, my dears. The queen will be happy it’s going to two such good friends.” Lady Courtney sighed. “It once belonged to two other young fairies. They too were best friends—a lot like you.”
“I thought it was Queen Mab’s,” said Sylva.
“It was Queen Mab’s and—” Lady Courtney started to say something, but then she stopped herself. “Take good care of it, please,” was all she told them.
“Of course we will, Lady Courtney!” said Sylva. “Come on, Poppy. Let’s fly it home to my house before anyone else sees it. It’s ours fair and square.”
“Fair and square to share!” said Poppy.
The two friends closed the dollhouse doors and carefully placed the house back in the crate. With some effort, they lifted it together. “I think I’ll be able to get it off the ground, Sylva,” said Poppy.
“Great! Let’s pump our wings and get this home!” said Sylva. They turned in the direction of the Fairy Village.
A sudden rustling of wings stopped them in their tracks. Then they heard an urgent voice.
“Sylva! Poppy! One moment, please!”
seven
Queen Mab!
Poppy and Sylva stopped so suddenly they almost dropped their precious treasure. They tried to curtsy while they held the huge box between them, but it was pretty much impossible.
They gently set the dollhouse down, which gave them both a moment to think of what to say to Queen Mab.
“It was in the jumble pile!”
“Lady Courtney said—”
“And so we thought—”
Queen Mab smiled. “I didn’t mean to startle you, my fairies,” she said. “And you’re right. I am giving the dollhouse away. I just wanted to make sure it was going to a good home. And I can see it is.”
“We’re going to share it,” said Sylva.
“Of course, Sylva dear. I know that. I suppose I’m just having a little pang about it. Silly of me, really.”
Sylva and Poppy did not understand exactly what Queen Mab meant by a pang. Her face had a faraway look. She seemed to be thinking of something that happened a long time ago.
“I’m sure Lady Courtney told you that the dollhouse once belonged to best friends who were a lot like you.” Sylva and Poppy nodded. “It was shared by
two young fairies who loved each other very much and did everything together.”
“One was you . . . ,” said Sylva, when the queen was silent for a while.
“Yes, I was one,” said Queen Mab, “and the other was my best friend, Nia.” She said the name in a whisper.
“We lived here at my palace when we were both young,” said Queen Mab. “We thought we would be best friends forever.” She stopped talking and wrapped her wings around herself. “But we haven’t seen each other in years.”
“What happened?” Poppy asked.
Queen Mab shook her head as if she were waking up from a dream.
“Sylva Allegra Bell, you always make me act in unexpected ways,” said the queen. “That story is something that happened long ago. What’s happening now is that you two deserve this lovely fairy dollhouse yourselves. Take good care of it, and may it bring you both much joy.” And away she flew.
“That’s such a sad story about Queen Mab and her friend,” said Sylva.
“That would never happen to us,” said Poppy.
But neither Poppy nor Sylva could guess that their own friendship would soon be put to a very great test!
eight
“Let’s take the dollhouse home,” said Sylva. “My sisters will be so jealous!”
“Good idea,” said Poppy. “We’ll keep it at your fairy house for a while, and then we can move it to mine.”
“Well, we could take it to your fairy house, eventually,” said Sylva. “But I think it’s important to have it at our house so that if Tinker Bell comes home, she could see it. Don’t you think so, too, Poppy?”
“Yes, yes, I do.”
Sylva guessed that Poppy might have wanted to show off the dollhouse to her own sisters, so she gave that idea some thought. “I’ll tell you what,” said Sylva. “We’ll keep it at my house for part of the time, and then we’ll bring it to your house. And just to be completely fair, you can be in charge of the upstairs part of the house”—she knew this would please Poppy, because the upstairs had bedrooms with flowered wallpaper—“and I will be in charge of the downstairs of the house.” Sylva actually liked the downstairs better—there was a sweet little piano that she hoped she could make work one day. “Whatever is upstairs belongs to you; whatever is downstairs belongs to me.”
Sylva and the Lost Treasure Page 1
