by Kiki Thorpe
Just then, the back door to the house opened. “Gabby, are you out here?” called a familiar voice.
“Mami!” Gabby squealed. She went running toward her mother, her curls bouncing and her fairy wings flapping on her back.
Mia turned to Lainey and Kate with wide eyes. “What am I going to tell her?” she whispered. “We’ve been gone for days!”
“Remember what Prilla taught us about a blink,” Lainey reminded her. “When she travels on a blink, time moves differently.”
“Let’s hope it’s true.” Kate looked worried. “Otherwise, we’re all going to be in for it.”
“Do you think it’s the same if we fly to Never Land?” Lainey wondered. “Does time stop the same way?”
“Speaking of that,” Mia said, “what about the fairy dust? Shouldn’t we put it somewhere safe?”
“It’s plenty safe. I’ve got it right here,” Kate said, patting her pocket.
An odd look flashed across her face. Kate dug her hand into her pocket. Then she checked her other pocket. She turned both pockets inside out.
Mia frowned. “Kate, that’s not funny. Quit messing around.”
“I’m not joking,” Kate said in a choked voice. “The fairy dust—it’s gone!”
Fawn sat alone in the Home Tree courtyard, twirling the end of her braid between her fingers. Lainey, Mia, Kate, and Gabby had gone to the fairy circle—any moment now, they’d be on their way back to their real homes. Fawn knew she should see them off. But she couldn’t bring herself to go.
Fawn hated good-byes. As a Never fairy, she rarely had to say them. Fairies hardly ever left Pixie Hollow, and when they did it was never for long. As for her animal friends, Fawn could see them whenever she wanted, because the creatures of Never Land never grew old.
But now her new Clumsy friends were gone, and she hadn’t said so much as “fly safely.” Not even to Lainey, whom Fawn liked especially. Fawn felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyes.
“You knew this day would come,” she scolded herself. “There’s no sense crying over it.”
At last, Fawn got to her feet. But instead of flying to the fairy circle, she flew in the opposite direction, toward the dairy barn. When Fawn’s spirits were low, she liked to visit the dairy mice. She was always happiest around animals.
As Fawn pulled open the heavy door, the mice lifted their heads in greeting.
“How are you, Thistledown? Feeling well, Cloverseed?” she asked as she walked among them. The mice came forward to snuffle her pockets, the bells around their necks chiming faintly. Fawn scratched them behind their ears.
“Where’s Milkweed?” she wondered, noticing an empty stall.
The mice only blinked in reply. Fawn understood mice well enough to know that not one of them had noticed Milkweed was missing until now. Mice could be self-centered that way.
“I reckon he’s wandered off,” she said. “Probably raiding Rosetta’s garden for seeds again.” Milkweed was a good name for the missing mouse because, like a weed, he was always turning up where he wasn’t wanted. “I’ll have to go find him.”
Fawn was glad to have something to do to take her mind off the girls. Leaving the dairy barn, she headed outside, calling for Milkweed in soft squeaks. “Milkweed! Where are you, you little fur ball?”
Fawn looked in Rosetta’s garden, but she didn’t see Milkweed there. She tried other gardens, then circled Pixie Hollow, flying in wider and wider loops.
When she came to Havendish Stream, she paused. Beyond was the great forest of Never Land. Fawn didn’t think the little mouse could have crossed the stream on his own.
She was about to turn back when her eyes fell on the stream bank. There in the mud, clear as day, was a mouse’s footprint.
Fawn sighed. “Oh, bugs and beetles. What are you up to now, Milkweed?”
She flew across the stream and came to a stop in front of a massive fig tree. It was so large that it looked like several trees grown together. At the base of the tree was a hollow she had never noticed before. To Fawn, the hole seemed as big as a cave.
Were Fawn’s ears playing tricks on her or did she hear a bell? She listened carefully. Yes, there it was—a faint jingling. It seemed to be coming from inside the fig tree.
She peered cautiously into the hollow. Fawn wasn’t afraid of most animals. She’d talked her way out of tight spots with snakes, badgers, even an owl. Still, she wasn’t foolish enough to walk blindly into a predator’s nest.
“Helloooooo?” Fawn called into the darkness. Silence greeted her.
Taking a deep breath, Fawn flew into the tree.
Like all fairies, Fawn glowed. But her glow only allowed her to see a couple of inches in front of her. She flew slowly, shivering as she brushed against cobwebs.
Fawn could no longer hear the bell. “Milkweed?” she called.
Just then, Fawn saw light ahead. But how could that be? Wasn’t the mouth of the hollow behind her? Had she gotten turned around? Fawn, you doodlehead, she said to herself. You’ve been flying in a circle!
If Milkweed had ever been inside the hollow tree, he wasn’t anymore, Fawn decided. She headed toward the opening.
Sunshine flooded her eyes. Fawn stopped, blinking in surprise at the strange landscape before her.
A sea of green grass stretched below her feet. But what odd grass! Every blade had been snipped off at the exact same height. Fawn flew down close to examine the grass, trying to imagine what creature could have cut it just so. Why, she thought, even the most talented harvest fairies couldn’t have been so precise!
And the flowers! Fawn stared in amazement. They grew in tidy rows, lined up as neatly as marching ants. Flowers in Pixie Hollow grew hither and thither, wherever the wind—or the garden fairies—planted them.
“What is this place?” Fawn murmured.
Then Fawn saw something that made her catch her breath. Ahead, a massive structure rose up from the grass, so high it seemed to touch the sky. Fawn could tell from the doors and windows that the thing was a house. But who would live in such a house? It was bigger than the entire Home Tree! Big enough to hold a whole family of Clumsies …
With a start, Fawn realized that she was looking at a Clumsy house. “But that’s impossible!” she said aloud. Clumsies lived on the mainland, a place far, far from Pixie Hollow. So what was a Clumsy house doing inside an old fig tree?
Fawn knew she should fly straight back to the Home Tree and tell the queen what she’d found. But her curiosity got the better of her. Instead of going back, Fawn flew forward.
Right away, Fawn could tell she was no longer in Pixie Hollow. The air felt different. It smelled different. She could hear birds singing, but she didn’t recognize their songs. Fawn heard other noises, too—strange rumbling sounds that came and went like ocean waves. For the life of her, she couldn’t have said what made them.
Fawn flew slowly through the flowers, enjoying the sense of adventure. What kinds of animals live here? she wondered. In Fawn’s opinion, you couldn’t know much about a place until you met its animals.
The house loomed in front of her. Flying up to a window, Fawn peeked inside. She saw what looked like a sitting room. There were chairs, lamps, and a table. Books and shoes were scattered everywhere. But she didn’t see any Clumsies.
Somewhere nearby, a bell jingled faintly.
“Milkweed?” Fawn called. She looked behind her, but the mouse didn’t show a whisker.
There’s something funny about that jingle, Fawn thought with a frown. Whatever was wearing the bell didn’t move like a mouse.
Fawn spun around just in time to see something lunge toward her. She screamed. As she leaped from the windowsill, she caught a glimpse of yellow eyes and needle-sharp teeth.
Fawn zigzagged back the way she’d come, searching for the hollow fig tree. But each way she turned, she saw only a tall wooden fence. “Where is it?” she wailed, lurching this way and that. “Where is it?”
With a cold jolt of fear, Fawn
realized that the tree wasn’t there. The passage back to Pixie Hollow was gone!
Fawn glanced back over her shoulder. She saw now that her pursuer was a cat. His brown fur was striped like a tiger’s, and his eyes were like bits of amber. They narrowed as he stalked toward Fawn, his tail twitching eagerly.
Fawn gave up looking for the fig tree and searched for any escape. Along one side of the fence, she noticed a narrow gap between the wooden slats. It would be a tight squeeze. But it was her only chance.
Fawn raced toward the gap in the fence. She reached it just as the cat leaped. Fawn wriggled and twisted, trying to squeeze her wings through. She felt one of the boards move slightly, as though it was loose, and at last she shot through the gap. Behind her, the cat slammed against the fence with an angry yowl.
Fawn looked up and gasped. She was back in Pixie Hollow!
“Wh-what … how …?” Fawn stuttered. She spun around. She was hovering in front of the hollow fig tree.
Fawn’s wings felt like they were going to give out. She sank to the ground, trembling all over. It doesn’t matter how I got here, she thought. The important thing is that I’m still alive.
Fawn glanced back at the hollow tree and shivered. The tree was dangerous. She knew she had better tell Queen Clarion about it right away.
As Fawn got up to leave, she heard a faint jingle. She looked back at the hollow. Two yellow eyes peered at her from the darkness.
“Oh no!” Fawn cried as a blur of brown fur streaked toward her. She’d led the cat right into Pixie Hollow!
Lainey trudged down the sidewalk in a haze of disappointment. She, Kate, Gabby, and Mia had searched all over Mia’s backyard for the lost bag of fairy dust. They’d combed the flower bed, peeked under the patio furniture, and crawled on their knees over the grass. They would have gone on searching, too, if Mia’s mother hadn’t said it was getting late and sent them home.
Lainey’s house was just three doors down from Mia’s, along a street lined with tall, narrow homes and spindly trees. Lainey was so used to the path that she hardly noticed where her feet were taking her.
A ferocious bark startled her out of her thoughts. Lainey jumped back as a black-and-white dog threw itself against the fence she was passing.
Lainey saw this dog every time she walked to Mia’s house. Although Lainey loved all animals, she’d been careful to steer clear of this one. The dog was always barking.
But maybe now she didn’t need to be afraid. After all, she’d learned so much from Fawn. She’d befriended all kinds of animals in Never Land. Maybe she could make friends with this dog, too. Someone with real animal talent could, Lainey thought. And hadn’t Fawn told her she had animal talent?
Lainey took a step toward the fence. “There, there,” she said soothingly. She didn’t know how to speak Dog. But she mimicked the tone Fawn used when she was talking to an upset animal. “Don’t be so grouchy. I’m your friend.”
The dog paused mid-bark. It stood with its nose against the fence, watching her. “Good dog,” Lainey said.
At once the dog began to bark again, louder than ever. Lainey turned and ran the rest of the way to her house.
As soon as she saw her front door, a wave of homesickness washed over her. Lainey took the steps two at a time and burst through the front door, crying, “I’m back! I’m back!”
“I’m in here, Lainey!” her mother called.
Lainey followed the sound of her voice to the kitchen. Her mother was standing with her back to the door, staring up at the open cupboard.
Tears sprang to Lainey’s eyes. How long had it been since she’d seen her mother? Days? Weeks? Only now did Lainey realize how much she’d missed her parents while she was in Never Land. She hurried over to her mom and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Hi, baby,” her mom said distractedly. “How does spaghetti sound for dinner?”
“Spaghetti sounds good.” Pushing her glasses up on her nose, Lainey straightened and turned to face her mother. So much had happened to her in Never Land. Lainey felt different—no, she was different. She was sure her mother would see it in her face.
But at that moment, Mrs. Winters was busy searching the cupboard. She moved some cans around, muttering, “I was sure we had tomato sauce.…”
Lainey tugged her mother’s sleeve. “Mom …”
“Yes, Lainey?” her mother asked, without looking down.
“Do you notice anything different about me?” asked Lainey.
At last her mother turned. “Oh, honey,” she said with a sigh. “When was the last time you combed your hair? You look like you’ve been living in the jungle!” She ran her fingernails through Lainey’s fine blond locks. “Go run a brush through it, then call your dad and ask him to pick up some dinner on the way home from work. It looks like we’ll have to have take-out again. We’re out of spaghetti sauce.”
“Okay,” Lainey mumbled, crestfallen. Her throat ached, but this time it wasn’t from homesickness. Suddenly, she was painfully aware of everything she’d lost—the doe and the dairy mice and her friendship with Fawn, the fairies and flamingos, the beauty of Never Land and the specialness she’d felt when she was there. Was even that part gone? Now that she was home again, was she just plain old Lainey?
“Goodness, sweetie, don’t be upset. We can have spaghetti tomorrow night, if you really want,” her mother said, misunderstanding.
Lainey sighed heavily and turned to leave. As she did, her gaze fell on something scuttling across the floor. It was a little gray mouse. Lainey stared. She’d never seen a mouse in her house before. A tiny jingling sound seemed to be coming from it. Looking closer, Lainey saw a bell hanging around its neck.
It was one of the fairies’ dairy mice!
At that moment, Lainey’s mother saw the mouse, too. “Aaah! Get out!” she shrieked, stomping her foot.
“Don’t hurt it!” Lainey exclaimed.
But her mother was striding over to the broom closet. She grabbed a broom and began to chase the mouse around the kitchen.
“Mom, stop!” cried Lainey.
“I won’t have mice in my house!” her mother declared, swiping at it with the broom. The mouse dodged the bristles one last time and disappeared through a crack in the wall.
“You almost killed it!” Lainey wailed.
“Mice are pests,” her mother said. “They’re vermin that carry diseases. For all we know, there could be a whole nest of them living behind the walls.” She shuddered. “I think I have some mousetraps down in the basement. For heaven’s sake, stay away from there,” she added as Lainey kneeled down to peek into the crack. “Who knows what kind of germs that thing has.”
Her mother stomped off toward the basement. As soon as she was gone, Lainey got down on her hands and knees to look into the hole.
“Eeee-eee,” she squeaked softly.
Nothing happened, so she squeaked again. She could see a pair of beady black eyes gleaming inside the hole. “It’s okay,” Lainey whispered. “I’m your friend.”
The mouse wiggled its whiskers, but it wouldn’t come closer.
What was going on? Was it possible she’d lost her animal talent when she’d left Never Land?
Then Lainey had a scarier thought. Maybe she’d never had any animal talent after all. Maybe Fawn had only said that to be nice.
Lainey felt worse than ever. But she knew she didn’t have time to mope. Her mother would be back with the mousetrap any moment. Lainey had to find a way to keep the mouse safe.
She went to the cupboard and found a plastic container with a lid. Then she took a block of cheese from the refrigerator and cut off a slice.
She put the piece of cheese in front of the mouse hole. Then she stepped back and waited.
A moment passed. Then a pink nose poked out of the hole, followed by a set of whiskers. Slowly, the mouse crept out, sniffing at the cheese.
Slam! Lainey dropped the container over it. Carefully, she slid the plastic lid under the edge, leaving a lit
tle opening for air. Now the mouse was trapped.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lainey whispered to the mouse as she hurried to her room. She could feel the little animal scrabbling against the side of the plastic container. She’d have to find a better place for the mouse, maybe a shoe box. But still Lainey felt ashamed. She knew no self-respecting animal talent would ever trap a mouse like this. What would Fawn think if she saw Lainey now?
Another, more important question burned in Lainey’s mind—what was a mouse from Pixie Hollow doing here?
Fawn dodged left, then right, trying to shake the cat. Her shoulders ached and her breath came in gasps. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep flying. But no matter how she twisted and turned, the cat was always just behind her.
Ahead, Fawn saw a raspberry bush. She headed straight for it, darting into the branches with her last bit of strength.
Fawn peered out between the leaves. She could see the cat watching her hiding spot with its yellow eyes. “Why are you bothering me?” Fawn called out in Cat. She hadn’t talked to many cats before, but the language came to her naturally. Part of an animal-fairy’s magic was being able to speak to any creature.
The cat blinked. It was clear that he wasn’t used to being questioned by his prey. “Come out where I can see you, shiny bird,” he said.
Shiny bird? Fawn thought, confused. Then she understood. He thinks I’m a bird! He’s attracted to my glow.
“I’m not a bird!” she yelled to the cat. “I’m a fairy!”
The cat blinked again. “Dragonfly?”
Was it possible this cat had never seen a fairy before? “Not a dragonfly. A fairy!” Fawn shouted.
“Flying thing?” the cat said. If he’d had shoulders, he would have shrugged.
Fawn realized she was getting nowhere talking to him. She had to find another way out of this mess.
Fawn plucked a raspberry from the bush. She weighed it in her palm, considering. A single fairy wasn’t strong enough to fight a cat. But Fawn knew cats were proud animals. Maybe if she wounded his pride, he would go away.
