thirteen

Clara thought the house was on fire.

“YI-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“WHOOOOOOOOOOW!”

“Poppy! Sylva! Are you hurt? What’s going on?”

Sylva and Poppy burst into the kitchen along with one fairy kitten and a whole lot of excitement.

“She’s real!”

“She came alive!”

“She got big!”

“There was a light—”

“Maybe it was Tinker Bell!”

“And then . . . she turned into a real kitten!”

The thing about magical islands is that you never know when magic is going to happen. Maybe Tink was thinking of her little sister Sylva at that very moment, and sent a charm her way. Maybe there was old magic in the air from the days of fairies long ago. Many years afterward, when Sylva told the story around the summer campfire to the younger fairies, she led them to believe that it was Queen Mab who brought the kitten to life. But to this day, no one knows for sure.

Poppy and Sylva certainly did not care how the magic had happened. All they knew was the magic did happen, and it happened to them.

“A kitten! She’s a real live kitten!” Poppy cried. The fairies could not take their eyes off the darling little cat. She wasn’t doll-sized anymore. She was just as big as a real kitten ought to be.

She had gray fur, and two bright blue eyes that made her look as if she could almost understand everything you were thinking. And there was a dab of white at the end of her tail.

“I cannot believe she’s a real cat, Poppy!” Sylva said. “We are so, so—”

“Lucky!” They both said that word together.

“Let’s call her Lucky!” said Sylva.

“That’s a perfect name,” said Poppy. “You are Lucky, my little kitten.” She tried to give Lucky a kiss, but Lucky squirmed out of her arms and darted across the kitchen floor. “I’ll have to learn how to hold her better,” said Poppy. “Get her, Sylva!”

“I’ll show you,” said Sylva. She had held so many tiny animals at the petting zoo that she knew just what to do. She scooped up Lucky with both arms and gave the squirmy kitten a big hug. “Whoa! She won’t keep still. Let’s get her something to eat. Can you believe we have a kitten of our very own?”

Clara took Lucky from Sylva and looked at the kitten very carefully. She had had some experience with injured animals that needed to be rescued.

“Well, she seems to be in very good shape,” said Clara. Lucky cocked her head to one side as if to say, Of course I am! I’m in great shape!

“Can I try to hold her again,” asked Poppy, “if I am very careful?”

“Cradle her—like a baby,” said Clara, “and let’s get her some food. She may be hungry.”

Sylva opened up the pantry of the Bell sisters’ kitchen. She wasn’t exactly sure what to feed a kitten. One reason was that Sylva had never had a pet of her own. But another reason was that there were almost no fairy pets on Sheepskerry Island.

I’m sure that surprises you. It surprised me when I first learned of it. You’d think that Sheepskerry would be just the place to have pets galore. But other than the occasional turtle and one or two crickets, most fairy sisters had never had a pet, nor had they even thought of having a pet. Queen Mab felt it was too dangerous.

If you think about it for a moment, you can see that she might be right.

Fairies are very small, by our standards. They can fit in the palm of the hand of a child. Fairy pets are even smaller than fairies. And if those pets are kittens or puppies, they can be cute and adorable and funny and loving, but there’s one thing they cannot do: They cannot fly.

Imagine a darkening twilight at Lupine Pond. Imagine a curious kitten in the tall grass. Imagine a great horned owl looking for its dinner. And imagine—

Actually, I’m not going to ask you to imagine anything else.

That’s why Queen Mab had a petting zoo at the palace, and the fairies took turns taking care of the animals there. She did not forbid pets on the island, but she certainly did not encourage them.

“Kittens need healthy meals,” said Poppy. “That’s one thing I know.”

“How about some fresh fish?” asked Sylva. “We have some in the icebox.”

“Fresh fish, and a little springwater,” said Poppy. “That will be perfect for a baby kitten like my Lucky.”

They took out a small saucer and put the springwater in that. The fish went in a little plate just next to the saucer.

“Pssst! Pssst! Here, Lucky!” said Poppy. Lucky came right over. “She does what I say!”

“I think she might just be hungry, Poppy,” said Sylva. “Look at her eat that fish! This is probably the first meal she’s ever had that wasn’t made of pretend food.”

“Imagine! You were a doll kitten all your life,” said Poppy to Lucky when she had finished her food. She petted the little kitten carefully. “Now you’re going to be one curious cat, aren’t you, Lucky?”

And as if Lucky had heard Poppy’s words, she lifted her head, opened her eyes wide, and darted out of the kitchen.

“Oh no! She could go anywhere!”

“She’s in this house somewhere. Let’s find her, Poppy!”