One by one, the other fairies and sparrow men also flew away. Many of them, passing Vidia on their way out of the courtyard, shot her disgusted looks. Others avoided looking at her altogether.
VIDIA WAS STILL in shock. She sat on the ground in the shadows of a mulberry bush and stared blankly ahead of her. She made no move to go until it seemed she was all alone. Then, with a heavy sigh, she stood up and turned around—and saw Prilla sitting on a toadstool on the far side of the courtyard.
Kindhearted Prilla was one of the youngest Never fairies. She was fairly new to Pixie Hollow. She hadn’t known Vidia as long as others had. But she had spent more time with Vidia than many of them. That was because Prilla, along with Vidia and Rani, had been chosen by Mother Dove to go on the great quest to save Mother Dove’s egg. It hadn’t been easy. Rani and Prilla had been forced to work with Vidia as a team for the good of Never Land. And in the end, they had succeeded.
Along the way, Prilla felt she had gotten to know Vidia a little better. Prilla knew why fairies thought Vidia was difficult. Sometimes she was nasty and selfish. She had plucked Mother Dove in order to get fresh feathers so she could fly faster. Vidia admitted that. But Prilla had seen another side of Vidia, too. Toward the end of the great quest, Vidia had had to make a choice: she could either share her extra-powerful fairy dust to save Never Land or keep it all for herself while the whole island lost its magic.
Vidia had chosen to share.
Maybe that was part of the reason Prilla stayed behind when the emergency meeting ended. Unlike some of the other fairies, Prilla didn’t believe that Vidia was all bad.
“Vidia, are you okay?” Prilla asked. She flew over and landed at the fast-flying fairy’s side.
Vidia waved Prilla away. “Oh, save your pity, sweetheart,” she replied. She forced a smile, but it quickly faded. “Do you think I’m worried? Well, think again. There’s a reason I live on my own in the sour-plum tree. It’s because I find all of you very irritating. What do I care if I’m banished from Pixie Hollow? I can’t stand the place.”
Prilla wasn’t buying it. She could see the fear in Vidia’s eyes. Oh, she knew that Vidia found Pixie Hollow annoying. But even Vidia wouldn’t want to be forced to leave her home and live all alone, away from her own kind, forever.
“I’ll help you, Vidia,” Prilla offered. “Tomorrow, we’ll start an investigation. We can ask around and see if we can find out what really happened to the crown. It’s like a mystery that needs to be solved, don’t you see?” Prilla jumped into the air and turned a somersault. “We’ll be detectives!”
Vidia wrinkled her brow and looked sideways at Prilla. “Why do you want to help me?” she asked suspiciously. “And how do you know I didn’t take the crown?”
Prilla landed and shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe you did take it. But I don’t think so.”
Vidia noticed that Prilla hadn’t really answered her first question. “And why do you want to help me, dearest?” Vidia asked again.
Prilla thought it over for a moment. When she’d first arrived in Pixie Hollow, she’d had trouble figuring out what her talent was. Talents were a big deal. Fairies spent lots of time with the other members of their talent. They ate meals together. Their best friends were usually members of their talent. Without knowing what her talent was, Prilla had had a hard time finding her place in Pixie Hollow.
In the end, Prilla had learned that she was the first fairy with her particular talent—the first mainland-visiting clapping-talent fairy ever. There were no other members of her talent. But then other fairies had made her an honorary member of their talents. Over time, Prilla had settled into life in Pixie Hollow. She had made lots of new friends. She had found her place.
But she still remembered those early days.
Prilla looked Vidia in the eye. “I want to help you,” she said, “because I remember what it’s like to feel alone.”
Vidia returned Prilla’s gaze. For a long moment they stared at each other. Vidia never asked for help and she wasn’t used to getting any. She wasn’t sure what to say.
Vidia looked away. She cleared her throat. She looked up at the stars. She cleared her throat again.
“Okay” was all she said at last.
It was barely a whisper. But Prilla heard it, and she understood.
VIDIA AND PRILLA met after breakfast in the lobby of the Home Tree the next morning.
“Vidia!” Prilla exclaimed as the fast-flying fairy zipped through the front door. Prilla was eager to share with Vidia all the ideas she had for kicking off their investigation. She had come up with a list of fairies they could question, leads they could follow. “Vidia, I’ve been thinking—”
“Thinking?” Vidia said. She cut Prilla off and flew right past her. Prilla had to rush to catch up. “Now, why would you go and start experimenting with that?” Vidia asked snippily.
Clearly, Vidia wasn’t going to be nice to Prilla just because Prilla had offered to help her. “Come on,” Vidia barked. “We’ll start by questioning the queen’s helper fairies.”
Prilla struggled to keep up as she followed Vidia to the second floor of the Home Tree. They turned down the southeastern hallway and soon flew up to the door to Room 10A, where Queen Ree lived.
Vidia knocked loudly on the door. When no one answered right away, she impatiently knocked again, more loudly.
Cinda opened the door. She peeked out into the hall.
“Ah, Cinda,” said Vidia. She brushed past her into the queen’s sitting room without waiting to be invited in. “What a brave little fairy you were last night, darling—coming forward to tell your tale in front of that big, scary crowd.” Vidia flashed Cinda a sickly sweet smile. “But we have just a few more questions to ask you and your fellow helper fairies. Don’t we, Prilla?”
Prilla hadn’t gotten any farther than the doorway. She had never been inside the queen’s rooms before. She stood gazing at the elegant surroundings. The sitting room had pale peach walls, overstuffed sofas, and a floral carpet. Beyond the sitting room were the sea green walls of the queen’s bedroom. Prilla could see one corner of a large, high four-poster bed.
The three other helper fairies, Rhia, Lisel, and Grace, flew out from the queen’s bedroom. They were carrying a pile of the softest spiderweb bed linen. They landed abruptly when they saw Vidia.
“What’s she doing here?” Lisel asked Cinda with a sneer. Rhia and Grace also eyed Vidia warily. It was obvious that they thought she was guilty of stealing the crown.
Prilla flew forward and tried to smooth things over. “We’d just like to ask you some questions about yesterday,” she said hopefully, “so we can prepare Vidia’s defense for tomorrow.”
“We?” said Grace, her eyes wide with surprise. “Prilla, are you actually helping her?”
Prilla shrugged and her glow flared. “Yes,” she replied. “There’s no proof that Vidia took the crown.”
“No proof yet,” Lisel muttered under her breath. She turned away and led Grace, Rhia, and Cinda over to a large table on the far side of the sitting room. They set the sheets and pillowcases on the table and began folding them.
“Listen, dearies,” Vidia said. She flew across the room to hover over the helper fairies as they folded. “All I want to know is when each of you last saw the crown. It is your duty, as the queen’s helper fairies, to take care of all of her belongings, right? But perhaps in this case, you lost track of a certain something? Perhaps you don’t remember when you last saw the crown?”
The helper fairies’ pride rose to Vidia’s challenge.
“Of course we remember!” Grace protested. “The last time I saw the crown was the day before yesterday, in the evening. I put it back into the crown cabinet after Queen Ree wore it down to dinner.”
Lisel nodded. “That’s right,” she said. She added a folded bedsheet to the growing pile. “I saw Grace put it away that evening. I was here in the room when she did it. That was the last time I saw the crown.”
<
br /> Cinda shook the wrinkles out of a pillowcase. “I saw the crown yesterday morning,” she said. “Rhia took it out of the cabinet to make sure it was ready for the party. Right, Rhia?”
“Right,” Rhia replied. “I took the crown out and started to clean it. Then I noticed that there was a small dent in the metal.” Rhia looked around at her fellow helper fairies. “Well, I didn’t think it was right for the queen to have a dent in her crown at her own party.” The other fairies nodded. “So I took the crown up to the crown-repair workshop to have it fixed.”
Vidia zipped excitedly to Rhia’s side. “And when was this?” Vidia asked.
“Yesterday morning,” Rhia said. She described how she had put the crown in its black velvet carrying pouch, taken it up to the crown-repair workshop, and left it with Aidan, the crown-repair sparrow man. “I told him what needed to be fixed. I told him it was a rush. And I asked him to bring it back to the queen’s chambers when he was done.”
“I see,” Vidia replied. “And he did? He brought it back?”
Rhia nodded confidently. “Yes,” she said. Then her brow wrinkled. “I mean, I think so.” Her glow flared. “Well, actually, I don’t know for sure.”
The three other helper fairies stopped folding. They stared at Rhia. “Rhia,” said Lisel in shock, “what do you mean you don’t know for sure?”
“Well…I…I mean,” Rhia stammered, “I told him I might not be here when he brought it back. I would be in and out. I told him he could leave it with any one of us, whoever was here.” Rhia’s eyes searched her friends’ faces. “Didn’t any of you see him bring it back yesterday?” she asked hopefully.
Lisel shook her head.
“Not me,” said Grace.
“Me neither,” said Cinda.
Rhia covered her mouth with her hand. It muffled the sound when she cried, “Oh, no!”
Prilla shot Vidia an “aha!” look. “Well, if Rhia took the crown to Aidan,” Prilla said, “and none of you saw the crown after that…”
Vidia zipped toward the door. “Come on, Prilla,” she called behind her. “We have a crown-repair sparrow man to visit.”
BY THE TIME Prilla caught up with Vidia on the fifth floor of the Home Tree, Vidia was already questioning Aidan in the crown-repair workshop.
“What do you mean you didn’t see the crown yesterday?” Vidia was shouting. She hovered over Aidan while he sat at his workbench. “Rhia said she brought it to you to be fixed!”
“I did!” exclaimed a voice behind Prilla. She turned to find Rhia standing in the doorway of the workshop. Prilla didn’t realize that Rhia had followed her up from the queen’s rooms. She had wanted to hear Aidan’s side of the story, too.
Aidan nervously scratched his ginger-colored hair. He looked shocked. Moments before, he’d had his quiet workshop all to himself—as he did most days. Aidan’s talent was a specialized one. There weren’t many crowns in Pixie Hollow in need of repair. In fact, there weren’t many crowns in Pixie Hollow at all! So most of Aidan’s time was spent on his own, perfecting his crown-repair skills.
As a result of his lonely work, Aidan was quite shy. Even from far away, Vidia scared him. Now, suddenly, here she was, hovering over him and shouting.
“Please,” said Aidan. He held up his hands in surrender. “I—I’m telling you the truth. I saw Rhia yesterday, but I d-didn’t see the queen’s crown.”
Rhia flew across the workshop and landed at Aidan’s side. “Don’t you remember?” she asked. She described again how she had come into the workshop on the previous day. She had asked Aidan to fix the dent in the crown, told him it was a rush, and left the crown there. “I asked you to bring it back to the queen’s chambers when you were done,” she said. “So why didn’t you?”
Aidan’s big green eyes had grown wider as Rhia told her story. “Is that why you came into my workshop yesterday?” he asked her. “Rhia, when you came in yesterday, I had just finished doing some work with my gemstone drill.” Aidan reached across his workbench. He picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a hand mixer and a screwdriver. “It works well, but it makes a terrible racket. Here, I’ll show you.”
Aidan took a piece of quartz from a pile of stones to his left. He aimed the drill bit into the quartz with one hand. He turned the drill’s crank with the other. A deafening, high-pitched squeal filled the workshop. Vidia, Prilla, and Rhia covered their ears with their hands.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Vidia shouted over the noise. Aidan stopped drilling.
Prilla uncovered her ears. “Gosh, Aidan,” she said. “How do you stand it?”
Aidan reached into the pockets of his baggy work pants. “I use these,” he replied, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He opened them to reveal several wads of dandelion fluff. Then he stuffed a wad in each ear to show how it worked.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Vidia snapped impatiently. “What does all this have to do with the missing crown?”
“WHAT?” said Aidan loudly.
Vidia sighed and yanked the fluff out of his ears. “WHY DO I CARE ABOUT YOUR EARPLUGS?” she shouted.
Aidan shrank from Vidia. He turned toward Rhia instead. “Well, when you came in yesterday, I had my back to you. Didn’t I?”
Rhia nodded.
“I still had the dandelion fluff in my ears,” said Aidan, “because I was working with the drill.” He shrugged. “So whatever you said, I didn’t hear. When I turned and saw you standing in the doorway, I waved. Remember? But then you turned and left! So I figured you had just dropped by to say hello.”
Rhia held her head in her hands. “And I thought you were waving to show that you had heard everything I’d said.” She groaned. Then an idea came to her. “But whether you heard me or not, I did leave the crown here.” She flew over to a tree-bark table near the door of the workshop. She pointed to a specific spot on the table. “It was in its black velvet carrying pouch. I put it right here.” But there was no sign of the crown or the pouch anywhere on the table—just a jumble of scrap metal that Aidan had tossed into a pile.
“Well,” said Prilla hopefully, “maybe it’s around here somewhere.” She peeked under the table. Rhia checked inside some nearby cupboards.
But there was no crown or velvet pouch to be found.
Prilla sighed. “Aidan,” she said, “did anyone else come into your workshop yesterday? Anyone besides Rhia?”
Aidan thought it over, then nodded. “Yes. Twire came by,” he replied.
“Twire?” said Rhia. “The scrap-metalrecovery fairy?”
Aidan nodded again. He pointed to the pile of scrap metal on the table next to the door. “She picked up yesterday’s scrap metal. She melts it down and recycles it.”
Prilla gasped.
Rhia groaned.
Vidia pursed her lips and shook her head.
“What?” said Aidan.
Vidia flashed Aidan her sickly sweet smile. “Don’t you see, pet?” she said. “If the crown was on that table next to the scrap metal when Twire came to pick it up…”
“She might have taken the crown away with the metal.…” Rhia continued the thought.
Prilla gulped. “And melted it down!”
“FLY, VIDIA, FLY!” Prilla called out. And the fastest fast-flying-talent fairy in Pixie Hollow rocketed out of Aidan’s workshop and zipped toward Twire’s.
As she flew, Vidia wondered why she cared so much about saving the queen’s crown. So what if I’m too late? So what if the hunk of junk has been melted down? she thought. What do I care? I’ve already got at least two other fairies I can link to the crown’s disappearance—Rhia and Aidan.
Surely Queen Ree would not banish her after hearing what Rhia and Aidan had to say.
Still, Vidia raced on toward Twire’s workshop. She told herself it was because it would be easier to clear her name if she found the crown. But…was there a part of Vidia that actually did care about one of Pixie Hollow’s oldest treasures?
Twire’s scrap-metal work
shop was on the third floor of the Home Tree. In her rush, Vidia barged through the door without knocking and flew straight into a set of metal wind chimes that hung from the ceiling.
Prrriiinnnnngggggg! The wind chimes rang forcefully as Vidia plowed through them. Across the workshop, a startled Twire straightened up and took a break from her task—dropping bits of scrap aluminum and copper into a large vat of molten metal.
“Stop!” Vidia called out. “Stop what you’re doing!”
Twire took off her sea-glass safety goggles and wiped them on her coveralls. “What’s the matter?” she replied in a calm tone, putting the goggles back on.
Twire was the type of fairy who always saw the glass as half full. She found the hope in every situation—even the most dire—the same way she saw beauty in each piece of scrap metal, no matter how twisted or rusted. Twire had a passion for turning trash into beautiful items. They were all over her workshop: the wind chimes by the door, the flying-fairy mobile by the window, the lamp on the workbench. They were all crafted from scrap metal.
Twire also believed that most bad situations could be turned into good situations. So as Vidia began madly sorting through the pile of metal Twire was melting down, Twire tried to calm her.
“Whatever it is, Vidia, I’m happy to help. Just tell me what’s going on,” Twire offered.
Just then Prilla arrived, slightly out of breath. She watched as Vidia tossed a piece of copper over her shoulder. It landed with a clang on the workshop floor. “The queen’s crown!” Vidia snapped. “Have you seen it?”
Twire shook her head. “No, Vidia. I haven’t,” she replied calmly. “What makes you think it’s here?” She turned to Prilla. “Hello, Prilla,” she said kindly. “Are you here with Vidia?”
Twire looked surprised when Prilla nodded, but she didn’t say anything.
Vidia gave up her search and sighed an annoyed sigh. She impatiently repeated what Aidan had said: that Twire had picked up his scrap metal the day before.
Vidia and the Fairy Crown Page 2
