by Kiki Thorpe
It was wrapping the gifts that got to her. I don’t know why she bothers asking me, Kate thought, looking from her mother’s pile of neatly wrapped gifts to her own lumpy, misshapen ones. No kid is going to want to get a present that looks like that.
The phone rang, and Kate’s mother got up from the table to answer it. “Oh, hi, Lainey. Yes, Kate’s right here.”
“Saved!” Kate cried, jumping up to take the call.
“Kate.” Lainey’s voice sounded breathless. “You need to come over right now.”
Kate eyed the pile of unwrapped toys. “I can’t. I’m helping my mom.”
“Tell her it’s an emergency,” Lainey whispered. “It’s about you know where.”
Never Land! Kate’s heart gave a little leap. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she whispered back.
“Mom, can I please go over to Lainey’s?” Kate asked, hanging up. “It’s—it’s really important.” She decided not to say it was an emergency. That would lead to too many questions.
Her mother looked at Kate’s pitiful pile of wrapped gifts and nodded. “I guess so. I can finish up on my own. Did Lainey say anything about their donation for the toy drive?”
“Nope.” Kate was already stuffing her feet into her boots.
“Lainey’s mother said she had something to donate, but I never received it. All the gifts are going out tomorrow. Can you bring it home with you? Otherwise, I’ll have to send someone to get it.”
“Sure.” Kate pulled on her coat and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget your mittens!” her mother called as the door slammed. But Kate was already gone.
Outside, Kate sucked in a breath of cold, fresh air. The piles of snow made the neighborhood look clean and new.
“I knew Never Land would be back,” Kate said to herself. “I just knew it!” She scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it high in the air. Then she ran all the way to Lainey’s house.
When she got there, she found Lainey waiting on the front steps. “Where are Mia and Gabby?” Kate asked.
“Here,” Mia said, coming up behind her. She seemed out of breath. “We can’t stay long. Mami said to come home soon.”
“Where’s Angie?” Kate asked.
“She was talking on the phone when we left,” Mia said.
Kate nodded. Though she liked Mia’s cousin, she was glad it was just the four of them. Something was nagging her about the day before, though she couldn’t say what. “It’s probably better this way,” she said. “Just until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Come on,” said Lainey.
She led them around the house. When she opened the door of the toolshed, though, the others hesitated. Mia eyed the dusty tools and old cobwebs and wrinkled her nose. “What are we going to do in here?” she asked.
Lainey didn’t answer. She went to the back of the shed and moved a bag of soil. Kate saw the thin outline of a door in the wall. “Is that…?”
Lainey nodded. “The portal! But don’t worry,” she added quickly. “I didn’t go without you guys.”
She crawled through the doorway and the others followed. They came out on the mossy bank of Havendish Stream. Right away, Kate sensed something was different.
“It seems colder than usual,” she said.
“What’s that sound?” Gabby asked.
They all stopped to listen. Now Kate noticed a high-pitched drone, like the buzz of some irritating insect. It was coming from the direction of the Home Tree.
Quickly, she crossed Havendish Stream on the stepping-stones the fairies had placed for them. She had started up the far bank, when Mia suddenly yelled, “Watch out!”
Kate ducked as a sparrow man came hurtling through the air. He crash-landed at her feet.
Kate knelt down. “Are you all right?” she asked, reaching to help him up.
The sparrow man shrank from her hand. “Keep away!” he shrieked.
“What’s the matter?” Kate asked, startled. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m only trying to help.”
The sparrow man gave her a strange look. “You could have it, too.”
“Have what?” Kate asked.
But the sparrow man didn’t answer. He lurched away, zigzagging through the air.
“What was that all about?” Mia asked, coming to stand next to her.
“I have no idea,” Kate said. “Let’s go to the Home Tree. Someone there will tell us something.”
But before they had reached the tree, they saw Prilla racing toward them. Her curls streamed out behind her as she flew. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, fluttering to a stop in front of them. “We were afraid you wouldn’t come again.”
“Of course we came!” Mia said.
“I knew you would. At least, I hoped so,” Prilla said. “But how did you get here? The portal is gone.”
“No, it’s not!” Kate said. “We thought so, too. But it only moved.” The girls explained how they had discovered the hole to Never Land in Lainey’s toolshed.
“How strange,” Prilla said, frowning. “Never Land must have moved it. I wonder why. Then again, so many strange things are happening in Pixie Hollow. Come, I’ll show you.”
She led the way to the Home Tree. As they approached, the high-pitched whine they’d heard earlier grew louder. A fairy stood on a toadstool in the pebble courtyard. Her mouth was open. Kate realized the awful sound was coming from her.
“What’s she doing?” Gabby asked.
“Singing,” said Prilla. “Or rather, trying to sing. Usually, she has the most beautiful voice in Pixie Hollow. But now she’s stuck on one note.”
“Ouch. That sound is giving me a headache,” Mia said, putting her hands over her ears. The girls watched as a healing-talent fairy peered into the singer’s mouth.
“Can the healer help her?” Lainey asked.
“She’ll try. But there’s not much she can do.” Prilla lowered her voice. “It’s the Disbelief.”
“The what?” Kate asked.
“The Disbelief,” Prilla whispered, as if she was afraid to say the word aloud. “Every time a child stops believing in fairies, a fairy’s magic fades. Usually, more children come along to keep the balance. But when too many children stop believing, well…” Prilla looked back at the poor singing fairy. “You see what happens.”
The fairy had stopped her awful droning. She sat in silence, looking miserable. “I feel so bad for her,” Mia said. “It must be terrible to want to sing and not be able to.”
“Will she get better?” Gabby asked.
“If enough children believe, she will,” Prilla said. But she sounded worried.
“Can it…affect fairies in other ways?” Kate asked. She told Prilla about the frightened sparrow man who’d almost run into her.
Prilla nodded. “Flying problems. Lots of fairies are having them. They say flying is often the first thing to go.”
Looking around, Kate noticed for the first time that more fairies than usual were on the ground. They hopped along, flapping their wings hard but never quite rising into the air.
Near the roots of the Home Tree, several fairies were crowding into the basket of a balloon carrier, one of the fairy-dust-filled balloons that were usually used for carrying heavy objects. When the basket was full, the balloon rose into the branches of the Home Tree. One at a time, the fairies got out, going into the tiny doors that lined the branches.
“A lot of fairies can’t fly high enough to reach their rooms,” Prilla explained. “They’re using the balloon carrier to get to the topmost branches.”
Just then, a tiny frying pan flew out the window of Tinker Bell’s workshop, followed by a string of curses.
Gabby picked up the pan and was about to tap on Tink’s door. But Prilla stopped her. “Better not,” she said. “Tink’s been in a rotten mood. None of her inventions are working.”
“Poor Tink,” Gabby said. She set the pan down gently on Tink’s doorstep.
“I just can’t believe it. We
were here only two days ago, and everything seemed fine…,” Kate started to say. Then she remembered that time worked differently in Never Land. Weeks could go by, when only a day had passed at home.
“I knew something was wrong,” Prilla said. “On my blinks to the mainland, it’s been harder and harder to get children to notice me. But I didn’t realize how quickly it would spread. The Disbelief is very catching. Queen Clarion said she hasn’t seen such a bad spell in ages.”
“Isn’t there something we can do?” Lainey said.
“Maybe there is,” Prilla replied. “I think we had better go see the queen.”
They found Queen Clarion in the fairy circle, the ring of mushrooms that grew in the shade of a hawthorn, not far from the Home Tree. She sat gracefully atop the largest mushroom, her long, narrow wings held high. Her glow was so bright it cast a halo of light around her. As usual, Kate found herself feeling tongue-tied in the tiny queen’s presence.
A few other fairies sat around the circle, talking in quiet, concerned voices. But they turned as the girls came forward.
The queen rose and spread her arms in welcome. But her smile looked tired. “Fly with you,” she said, greeting the girls in the fairy way. “We’re glad to see you. But I’m afraid you’ve come at a sad time.”
Fawn fluttered up next to her. “We were so worried about you!”
“Worried about us?” asked Mia. “Why?”
“When the portal closed, some fairies thought…” Fawn trailed off without finishing her thought.
“Why not say it, Fawn, dear?” Vidia the fast-flying fairy spoke up. “We thought you’d all gotten the Disbelief,” she told the girls bluntly.
“Us?” Gabby gasped. “Never!”
“It was only a rumor,” Tinker Bell chimed in quickly.
So that’s why the sparrow man ran away from me, Kate thought. He thought I had the Disbelief. She wished she knew who had started the rumor. It seemed unfair that, on the subject of belief, the fairies didn’t seem to have more faith in them.
“We thought maybe the girls could help,” Prilla explained to the queen. “After all, they know the world of children better than any of us—even me.”
The queen looked at the girls thoughtfully. “Let me ask you—why do children stop believing in fairies?”
The girls were silent. Kate couldn’t imagine not believing in fairies. She knew her friends felt the same way.
“Because they grow up?” Mia guessed finally.
“Yes, that’s true. Most grown-up Clumsies don’t believe in fairies,” Queen Clarion agreed. “But why? It’s something I’ve never understood. And why do some children grow up sooner than others?”
Kate thought of her parents and the other adults she knew. She’d never thought to ask whether they believed in fairies. But it was true she couldn’t imagine any of them in Pixie Hollow. They wouldn’t have any idea what to do! They were always so preoccupied, so busy with their phone calls and computers and grocery lists and all their other boring grown-up things. As if those were the most important things in the world.
“Maybe…maybe it’s not that they don’t believe, exactly,” Kate said, thinking it through. “It’s just that they stop caring. Their minds are too full of grown-up stuff to remember about magic.”
“Or maybe they give up on it,” Lainey added.
Queen Clarion nodded. “I see. And perhaps some children give up on magic sooner than others.”
“But if that’s true, then we just need to show more kids that magic exists,” Mia said.
“And we can,” Kate said, with a sudden burst of inspiration. “Through the portal!”
“You mean, bring them all here?” The queen looked alarmed, and Kate saw at once how silly the idea was. She pictured hundreds of kids running around Pixie Hollow. They’d be like an army of giantss tromping on the fragile fairy world. It would never work.
“But the portal goes the other way, too,” Kate said. “The fairies could use it to bring magic to our world. And we could help!”
“That’s right!” Mia chimed in. “Prilla doesn’t have to be the only one who visits kids.”
Vidia smirked. “I’d be glad to go to the mainland and pinch a Clumsy or two. See if that doesn’t make them believe in fairies.” A few fairies laughed.
“It’s a good idea, Kate,” Queen Clarion said. “But it’s too dangerous now, when our magic isn’t strong. What would happen if a fairy lost her ability to fly and was cornered by a cat?”
Kate knew she was thinking of Mia’s cat, Bingo. He’d once escaped into Pixie Hollow and terrorized the fairies. “We could help keep cats away,” she said.
“And what if the portal closed again?” the queen asked. “Fairies could be trapped on the other side.” This, too, had happened. The first time the portal moved, Rosetta had been trapped on the mainland until they’d found a way through again.
“But Prilla goes to our world all the time,” Kate pointed out.
“And we’re lucky she does,” the queen said. “But she can blink back to Pixie Hollow in an instant—the rest of us can’t.”
“But we have to do something!” Fawn cried in frustration. “We can’t wait for the Disbelief to get worse.” Other fairies murmured their agreement.
The queen fluttered back and forth, pacing the air. Her brow was furrowed, as if she were thinking hard about it. At last, she shook her head. “I can’t allow it. It’s too dangerous. We must use our magic sparingly and wait for the balance of Belief to restore itself.”
“You mean, Queen, darling, we’re just to wait around until our magic dries up for good?” Vidia snapped.
“We’ve gone through spells of Disbelief before, Vidia,” the queen reminded her.
“Help!”
A panicked shout interrupted her. High in the branches of the Home Tree, the balloon carrier swayed unsteadily. A sharp twig had punctured the balloon. As a plume of fairy dust shot from the hole, the basket of fairies began to sink.
The fairies in the circle gasped. “None of them can fly. They’re going to fall!” someone exclaimed.
Several fairies leaped into the air. But they weren’t strong enough to stop the plummeting basket.
Kate didn’t pause to think. She raced toward the Home Tree, then dove, arms outstretched, and slid like a center fielder going for a fly ball. The basket landed in her open hands, just inches from the ground.
The dive knocked the wind out of Kate. For a moment she lay there, trying to catch her breath. The fairies in the basket looked too shocked to move. Several others who could still fly raced over to help. They took them off to the kitchen for calming cups of blackberry tea.
When they were gone, Kate stood up and brushed the dirt from her clothes. Her friends clustered around her, patting her back.
“Way to go, Kate,” Lainey said.
“That was amazing!” said Mia.
Kate blew out her breath. “I guess all those softball practices weren’t for nothing.”
The queen flew over to her. “We’re grateful, Kate,” she said. “That was nearly a tragedy.”
“Yes, bravo, Kate,” Vidia sneered. “Let’s hope you’re here to catch every fairy who loses her magic.”
“Vidia’s right,” Fawn said, flying up.
Everyone turned to her in surprise. Few fairies ever agreed with Vidia.
“The mainland might not be safe. But without our magic, nowhere is safe for fairies—not even Pixie Hollow,” Fawn said. “Let me go through the portal.”
“Queen Clarion, if you let fairies come through the portal, I’ll make sure they’re okay,” Lainey promised.
At last, the queen gave in. “All right. You may go—for one day,” she told Fawn.
One day didn’t seem like much time. But Kate thought it best not to argue.
“Fawn shouldn’t go alone,” said Queen Clarion. She turned to the fast-flying fairy. “Vidia, you will go, too.”
Vidia’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Brrrr!” As the fairies came through the portal into Lainey’s toolshed, Fawn rubbed her bare arms, shivering. “It’s so cold in your world!”
Lainey looked at Fawn’s thin leaf tunic and Vidia’s plum petal singlet. They’ll freeze, she thought. Why didn’t I tell them to bring warm clothes? The fairies had been in her world less than a minute, and already she was breaking her promise to Queen Clarion.
“I might have some doll clothes they can wear,” Mia said. “Should I get them?”
“That’ll take too long,” Lainey said. “We can find something in my house.”
“You can ride in my hands to stay warm, if you want,” Gabby offered.
Fawn flew into Gabby’s cupped palm. But Vidia looked away with a sniff. She’d been sulking ever since they left Pixie Hollow, and Lainey could tell she thought their mission was beneath her.
Lainey’s friends and the fairies followed her into her house. In the hallway cabinet, Lainey dug through a drawer of hats and mittens.
“What about this?” Mia leaned over her shoulder and plucked up a wool glove.
“That wouldn’t fit a fairy!” Gabby said, laughing.
“Yes, it would!” Mia said. “Lainey, do you need this glove?”
“No.” Lainey shrugged. “It doesn’t fit me anymore.”
“Good.” Mia ran to the kitchen and got a pair of scissors. Then she snipped the glove’s middle finger to make a neck hole. She cut off the ends of the other fingers so Fawn could put her arms and legs through. Finally, she cut two slits on the back of the glove for the fairy’s wings.
“Voilà!” she said when she was done. “Instant snowsuit!”
They all watched as Fawn slipped on the glove snowsuit. “Ugh,” Vidia said. “I couldn’t stand wearing that. How can you even move your wings?”
Fawn fluttered her wings to show her. “I think it’s cozy,” she said, picking up one of the glove tips and pulling it over her head. It made a snug cap. “How do I look?”
