by Jan Bozarth
“What?” I asked in a choked, frightened whisper. “Who’s there?”
“Who?” the voice asked.
I looked up into the golden-green eyes of a morepork owl, the only native owl left in New Zealand. Sitting on the limb of a nearby tree, the bird fluffed its golden-brown feathers and blinked. In Maori lore, the ruru was a guardian creature that screeched to warn of danger and death. The quieter who-oo call foretold good news. It was just a myth, but I was still relieved.
“Who are you?” the bird asked.
“Trinity Jones,” I answered. “Who are you?”
“Tiaki,” the bird said.
I blinked, stunned as much by the talking owl as by his name. In Maori, tiaki meant to care for or guard.
“Guard me against what?” I asked.
“Ignorance,” Tiaki said. “I was sent to make sure you understand the great significance of this gathering of fairy queens.”
I stared at the bird. A moment ago I thought I was walking through Central Park. This talking owl was making that harder and harder to believe.
“This is the strangest dream I’ve ever had,” I muttered.
“A dream brought you to Aventurine,” Tiaki said, “but you are not dreaming now.”
I had to be dreaming, but I didn’t argue. “Okay, then,” I said. “What’s the big deal?”
“Listen.” The owl turned his head as the fairies gathered around the table.
The queens glided toward the table on shimmering wings. Some wore flowered wreaths and all wore gowns that complemented their wings. A tall fairy carrying a golden stick had leather twined into braids that were wrapped around her head. Another looked like a rock star, with long wavy red hair, cat eyeglasses, a leather jacket, and high leather boots. One queen shimmered in silver from head to toe. Although their clothing, hairstyles, and accessories differed, they all had a regal presence, even a little girl at the edge of the group.
“One of the queens is a child!” I exclaimed.
“That’s Queen Blanca,” the owl said. “She takes a child’s form sometimes. Most of the time she’s a small white horse.”
“Awesome!”
A tall fairy came toward the gathering from the other side of the clearing. She wore a lavender gown accented with sparkling dewdrops and violets. Cascades of chestnut hair fell in front of her shoulders and down her back between iridescent blue wings, and bees circled her head like a crown. The other queens parted to make room for her in the circle around the stone table.
She was obviously in charge.
“Is that Queen Patchouli?” I asked Tiaki in a whisper. The magnificent fairy looked exactly like my mother had described her.
“Yes,” the owl said. “Queen of the Willowood Fairies and leader of all the queens in Aventurine.”
“Why are there so many?” I asked.
“Every human fairy godmother lineage is bonded to a different fairy clan, and every clan has a queen,” the bird explained. “Each queen trains fairy-godmothers-to-be in the magic arts that are particular to her clan and lineage.”
“Which queen is in charge of the Ananya Lineage?” I asked.
“She is not here,” Tiaki said. “Yet.”
Why was my queen absent? Was she sick or in trouble? I started to ask, but Tiaki hushed me when Queen Patchouli began to speak.
“In this, the one hundredth year since I and my sister first entered Aventurine, the dawn of a new reign is upon us,” she said.
Whenever a question occurred to me, I asked it. Now was no exception. “Where did she come from?”
“Queen Patchouli was born in your world but chose to stay in Aventurine,” Tiaki said. “She is the only half-human fairy.”
“How did she become the leader?”
“Every century marks a time of great change,” the owl explained. “A hundred years ago, the portal between your world and Aventurine opened. Queen Patchouli’s exceptional abilities and unique understanding of both human and fairy realms made her the most qualified to oversee young fairy-godmothers-in-training.”
My mother hadn’t told me anything about Queen Patchouli’s history, and I listened closely when the fairy continued.
“Together,” Queen Patchouli said, “Dora in the human world and I here among the fairies have helped you train three generations of fairy godmothers to respect and wield the magic of the elements.”
“It has been an honor.” The statuesque fairy wearing laced boots and a tunic raised her golden stick in salute.
Anticipating my next question, Tiaki whispered, “Queen Mangi of the stone fairies.”
Queen Mangi spread her arms and bowed slightly. “Your faith in Kerka helped her achieve the Peace of Opposites and kept the Pax Lineage from being banned.”
Kerka was the name of a girl at my new school, but I didn’t know her very well. I decided I should make more of an effort.
“The credit for that is yours more than mine, Queen Mangi,” Queen P said. “You were her guide and teacher.”
“But you see the true hearts and spirits hidden beneath the girls’ flaws.” The silver fairy rose slightly on silvery wings laced with green, red, and blue. “Sumi seemed so hopeless at first.”
“My friend Sumi?” I asked.
“Yes,” Tiaki said. “She was quite superficial and fixated on outer beauty when she arrived.”
“Not the Sumi I know!” I hissed in protest. “My Sumi sees beauty in all sorts of crazy places!”
“A gift she discovered when Queen Kumari turned her into a shape-shifter and sent her on an undersea quest to save Bristolmeir.” The bird ruffled his feathers and turned back to the gathering.
“You sent Zally to save me, Queen Patchouli,” a gentle voice said.
This time I didn’t ask. Aventurine had been on my mind when I fell asleep, and I was incorporating my friend’s fanciful stories about Shell Fairies into the dream, too.
Queen Patchouli gazed at a small fairy who had blind, white eyes. “Zally helped you regain your ability to heal, Queen Carmina. In return, you helped me empower her map of Aventurine, which benefits every girl who enters.”
“Without the moonbeam basket Lilu wove, the Tangerine Tide would have destroyed the marsh,” another queen added. Her kimono was alive with movement as animals swarmed, skittered, and swam through the fabric. “Surely you knew she could help the Dragonfly Fairies save it, Queen Patchouli.”
“I hoped Lilu would find her own identity and the confidence to use her talents, and she did, with your encouragement, Queen Alaina.” Queen Patchouli paused to scan the faces before her. “I know not what great change is in store, but rest assured: Our work with the human lineages will continue in the reign of my successor.”
“I can’t bear the thought of you leaving us!” the fairy who looked like a rock star shouted in dismay.
“I’m not leaving just yet, Queen Honorae,” Queen Patchouli said. “The new baby will have years of training here in the Willowood Forest before she becomes Queen of Aventurine.”
“Which one is having a baby?” I asked.
“Fairies do not have mothers and fathers like humans,” the owl explained. “They are born of the elements and arrive as anything from mist or light to gem or flower.”
I frowned. “The queens look like people.”
“Babies materialize into fairy form when they are held by a fairy-godmother-in-training.” Tiaki turned to study me.
The owl’s stare was so intense I looked away.
In the clearing, an air of excitement had replaced the fairy queens’ distress. All eyes looked up when Queen Patchouli raised her arms. A swirling mist of rainbow colors rose out of the stone table and transformed into a transparent three-dimensional diagram above it. The diagram was divided into many parts, and each part had a picture in it. I could just make out a shell, a dragonfly, and a willow.
“Does each section represent a fairy clan?” I asked.
“Most of them do,” Tiaki said. “But others who are not fairies
have territory in Aventurine, too.”
All the queens except Queen Patchouli were acting like little kids waiting for Christmas. They whispered and grinned, crossed fingers and jiggled.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“They are about to find out where the new Queen of all Aventurine will be born,” Tiaki explained. “It’s a huge honor, and they all hope the baby will come to be in their land.”
Everyone became quiet when Queen Patchouli began to chant:
Earth, water, fire, and air,
A new queen arising,
Show us where.
I held my breath as a brilliant blue cometlike light shot out of the table and up through the diagram to the uppermost section, where it burst into glorious fireworks.
All the fairies gasped.
“Oh, no!” Tiaki cried.
“This can’t be!” Queen Mangi exclaimed.
“The elements don’t lie,” Queen Alaina said. As though sensing her great sadness, the creatures in her kimono became still.
My heart fluttered. “What’s wrong?”
The owl blinked, then blinked again, as though he couldn’t believe his eyes, either. “The child will arrive in the Cantigo Uplands.”
“Does a bad fairy live there or something?” I asked.
“No fairies have ever been there,” Tiaki said. “The cloud people control the Cantigo Uplands, and no one else is allowed into their territory, especially fairies.”
“But then—” Suddenly, I was as upset about the unexpected complication as the fairies. “How are the queens going to get the baby?”
“Trinity!” Queen Patchouli called my name. “You can come out now.”
The instant I heard Queen Patchouli call my name, I knew: Aventurine was real.
Stunned, I frantically tried to make sense of it.
I dreamed I could fly because I wanted to so much, but that was just wishful thinking.
My mother and my friends actually believed in fairies. They weren’t little kids, and they were all smart, so it wasn’t likely they shared a crazy delusion.
I pinched myself again—hard.
It hurt and my nails left a red mark on my skin.
I wasn’t dreaming.
Somehow, I had been transported to a strange place with beautiful ladies who looked like fairies.
And they were expecting me.
“What does she want?” I glanced up, but Tiaki was gone.
I hadn’t heard the beat of wings as he flew away. The bird had disappeared so quickly and silently it seemed as though he had simply vanished. Poof!
Did he? The idea seemed preposterous—unless Aventurine wasn’t bound by the laws of physics that ruled the regular world.
That rocked me even harder.
I was a mathematician! I dealt in logic, absolutes, and facts. How could I function if nothing worked like I expected?
“One day, life will defy your expectations and force you to confront things that don’t fit the world as you understand it.…” My mother’s words were like a beacon shining through a thick fog. Knowing what was ahead, she had armed me to cope and succeed. “Reassess what you think you know and adapt.”
“New fact number one,” I muttered. “In Aventurine, anything might be possible.”
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the trees.
All the queens turned to look my way. I tensed, but there was no need to be wary. I could see their faces in the lighted clearing, and every one had a hopeful, if anxious, look.
Queen Patchouli held out a welcoming hand. “Stand with me, Trinity. There is much to tell and not much time to tell it.”
Before she could continue, I double-checked my theory. “Is this Aventurine?”
“Yes, it is,” Queen Patchouli answered. “Your mother and grandmother were here when they turned thirteen, and they both earned high marks and much respect for the Ananya Lineage. However, they did not have missions that were as vital to the future of Aventurine as you.”
I paused, recalling my mother’s account of her amazing mission. She had carried the fallen egg of a dinosaur-like creature back to its nest. The nest had been located on a mountain crag that was so high and remote she had to fly to complete the task.
“What is the mission?” I asked.
“As I’m sure Tiaki told you, a baby who is destined to be Queen of Aventurine is about to be born,” Queen Patchouli explained. “In order to materialize, she must be held by a fairy-godmother-in-training—you.”
“Really?” My voice squeaked with excitement. I didn’t know anything about babies, but holding one couldn’t be that hard.
Except that the newborn was arriving in the Cantigo Uplands.
“What about the cloud people?” I asked. “Tiaki said they don’t like strangers.”
“They don’t like anyone,” Queen Kumari grumbled.
“They’re mean,” the child Queen Blanca said, knitting her brow.
“They are fierce warriors,” Queen Mangi added. “The combat arts of Kalis might help, but there’s no time to teach you.” She spun her glowing stick and then held it like a spear.
“Why are they so hostile?” I asked. Knowing why might help me survive.
“They are beings made of mist, and like the Greek gods of your world, they consider themselves and their ways superior,” the golden queen explained.
“It’s worse than that, Queen Tensy,” Queen Honorae said. “They don’t want anything to change.”
“They especially don’t want to be solid,” the queen in the beaded dress huffed.
“You are so right about that, Mama Cocha,” Queen Alaina said. “The cloud people are convinced that intruders bring change, chaos, and ruin. Sadly, human history has often proven their theory.”
“But we would not do them any harm,” Queen Carmina said. “We only want to peacefully coexist as we do with all the others who are not fairies in Aventurine.”
“Most of them anyway,” Mama Cocha muttered.
“Maybe the new queen will open a door,” Queen Blanca said with a wistful sigh.
“Not likely,” Queen Mangi scoffed. “Trinity and the babe will be lucky to escape with their lives.”
“Is it that dangerous?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Everything you need to bring the baby back to the Willowood for her naming ceremony will be available,” Queen Patchouli said. With a flick of her wrist, the spelled map shattered into sparkling confetti that dissolved before it hit the stone table. “But first you must make the journey up through the mile-high forest to reach the land of clouds.”
“I love to climb trees!” I exclaimed. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m very good at it.”
“That’s one reason why you were chosen,” Queen Patchouli said. “But the trees will only take you so far. You’ll have to fly to complete the journey.”
“Fly?” I asked. “Using what?”
The queen’s smile was not reassuring. “You’ll know when you get there.”
A flicker of doubt must have crossed my face. Queen Patchouli’s voice took on an even greater sense of urgency.
“No mission has ever been more important,” she explained. “This baby will be born with immense power, but it must be tempered with the guidance and training only the Willowood Fairies and I can provide. Without it, she won’t have the wisdom to manage all the creatures and magical forces in Aventurine.”
“The harmony in Aventurine will disintegrate without a wise, strong, and powerful leader,” Queen Mangi said. “Mist or solid, the baby must not be stranded with the cloud people.”
“I will not let that happen.” I tried to speak with the certainty of a knight charged with a sacred duty. I could not let my mother, our lineage, or the fairy realm down.
The queens all smiled—some even cheered—but I kept my eyes on Queen Patchouli. She seemed to be weighing me with her gaze, and I wondered if I was coming up lacking.
Thousands of fireflies gathered to brighten the
clearing. Morning flowers bloomed in the light, and the stones in the table began to shift until a crude desk and stool appeared before me.
“Now you must make your entry into The Book of Dreams,” Queen Patchouli said. “Please, sit.”
“Dreams that I’ve dreamed or dreams about what I want?” I asked as I sat down on the cool, smooth rock.
“Aren’t they the same?” Queen Patchouli asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“I can dream the impossible,” I replied, “but I can’t make the impossible happen no matter how much I want it.”
“Perhaps,” the queen said, “just this once, you should think as though nothing is impossible.”
Adapt! I reminded myself. “Okay,” I said. “I guess I can do that.”
Two new fairies entered the clearing. One set a large, leather-bound book on the desk before me. The silver-blue letters on the cover shimmered, and stray pieces of ribbon and dried flowers stuck out of the aged pages. The second fairy placed a golden quill pen and shell beside it. The lid on the shell was decorated with fish scales. It opened without me touching it. The book did, too.
Queen Patchouli peered over my shoulder. “This is your mother’s dream. I am certain she thought it quite impossible when she wrote it.”
Mom’s page was covered with small drawings of flying machines: kites, balloons, hang gliders, biplanes, propeller planes, jets, and helicopters. The images were decorated with what looked like the flax and grasses the Maori used to make kites. I skimmed over the designs to read:
“She did, you know.” I looked at Queen Patchouli. “Mom is a commercial airline pilot, and those jobs are usually held by men.”
“I know,” Queen Patchouli said. “We’re very proud of Marissa. Now it’s your turn.”
The book opened to a blank page. I picked up the golden pen and dipped it into the silvery-blue ink, but I hesitated before writing.
I wanted to fly, but not in airplanes like my mother. I wanted to fly under my own power with no external help. But, despite Queen Patchouli’s advice, I didn’t feel comfortable writing that. It seemed too frivolous for a book that had recorded generations of girls’ innermost secret desires.
