TWENTY-NINE

“RANI, DON’T do it!” Prilla cried.

Fairy wings? Kyto was thrilled. With fairy wings, his hoard would be unique. “Let me see.”

“You can’t have them!” Prilla yelled.

Kyto got ready to blow another fireball.

“Hush, Prilla.” Rani told Kyto, “You can’t see them yet, but I’ll tell you about them.” It would be a magnificent end for them, if they turned out to be the wings that saved Mother Dove. She described them.

He listened greedily. Real wings from a real fairy who’d never fly again.

Kyto wanted the wings first, but Rani refused. She’d give him the double cigar holder. Then, after he restored the egg, he could have the comb and the wings.

He smiled to himself. The fairies were so trusting. In their place, he’d have made sure Mother Dove was well before he’d given away the final item.

Prilla and Rani dragged the cigar holder up to the cave and ran away.

He ran a claw over the holder. He rubbed his cheek along it.

He sniffed it and licked it. He wished the fairies would leave and give him a few hours alone with it.

But Prilla carried the egg to him. Its pale blue shell had black splotches. The two smaller pieces nested in the big one. Atop them were the ashes that had been the egg.

Prilla rushed back to the edge of the cliff and stood next to Rani, watching. Kyto exhaled a golden flame that spat and sizzled. Through the flame, the fairies could make out the eggshell, which wasn’t changing a bit.

Kyto swallowed his flame. “This is more difficult than I expected.” He frowned. “I hope I can do it.” Inside himself he laughed. Dragons are show-offs, and he was having fun.

Prilla wanted to scold the egg, tell it this was its last chance and couldn’t it cooperate?

Kyto blew a red flame, deep as a raspberry, bright as a tomato. It rustled and crackled as it played over, around, and through the eggshell, which remained stubbornly broken.

Rani wiped her wet face. Had she sacrificed her wings for nothing?

Kyto let the flame subside. “Fairies, I will make one more attempt.”

He heaved forth a midnight-blue flame that hurled out miniature lightning bolts. A wind ripped across the ledge. Rani and Prilla threw themselves on the ground. Vidia ducked.

Prilla raised her head to watch, but the egg was hidden in flame. Kyto’s cheeks were puffed out, his eyes protruded, and his whole body strained toward the egg.

His flame licked a low-lying cloud. The heat scorched a sparrow flying two miles away. Three miles away a field of grass caught fire.

At that moment, Kyto spit into the restored yolk. Then he repaired the shell, leaving a gob of his wickedness inside.

The flame withdrew. There was the egg, whole again.

Mother Dove sank into a deep sleep. All the fairies gathered around her. If she awoke before she died, they wanted to be there to tell her farewell.

The burn marks were gone from the egg. It was the same pale blue it used to be. Rani touched it, and it felt smooth and cool. She was sure it was perfect.

Prilla and Rani carried the comb to Kyto. Then Rani brought over her wings and gave them a final pat.

Kyto could have crisped the fairies, now that he’d gotten what he wanted. But if he did, no one would know the trick he’d played on the egg. So he let them go.

Rani and Prilla loaded the egg into the balloon carrier while Vidia steadied the carrier. The three of them started down the mountain. It would take them more than a week to walk home. Mother Dove would probably be dead by then.

Prilla was beside herself with misery. We did everything, she thought. But it may all be useless, just because I had to turn a cartwheel.

Vidia was arguing furiously with herself. If she shared her fresh dust, they might reach Mother Dove in time. But if Mother Dove didn’t recover, Vidia would have wasted the last of her dust, and she’d never fly again.

On the other hand, she had only about two days of dust left. Which should she choose: the certainty of those two days or the chance of flying forever?

“Um, darlings, actually we can fly home. I have—”

“—dust. Dust! Dust?”

Vidia nodded.

Prilla and Rani stared. She’d had dust with her all along?

Prilla thought, At least I don’t have a talent for being a selfish pig.

Mother Dove soared above the beach where her body lay inert. She was still attached to that body. But the string that held her was thinning, and soon it would snap.

A music-talent fairy began the fairies’ saddest song, “Fly Not Far from Me.” More voices joined her, one by one.

Rani sat in the balloon carrier. Vidia sprinkled her dust on Prilla and on herself. Prilla noticed the difference instantly. With the fresh dust she felt weightless, and her wings felt as strong as an eagle’s wings. She understood the temptation to pluck Mother Dove—not that she’d ever do it.

But although they were able to travel faster than they had before, it still took two and a half hours to reach the Wough River.

Mother Dove was minutes from death. They couldn’t possibly reach her in time.

Never Land shrank itself again. They’d flown for only ten more minutes before they passed over Fairy Haven. Two minutes later, they landed on the beach.

Mother Dove felt the egg arrive. She found herself back in her body. The pain almost killed her.

Prilla was shocked when she saw Mother Dove. Her feathers had turned a sickly yellow, except at the shoulder where they were bloodstained. Her head hung down, and her cheeks were sunken.

Mother Dove opened her eyes and spoke in a quavery whisper. “Bring the egg closer.”

The questers lifted the egg out of the balloon carrier and brought it to her.

No one breathed. No one moved.

Mother Dove cooed.

Prilla got ready to turn a cartwheel.

Mother Dove extended a claw. A dozen fairies rushed in to stop her from toppling.

She moaned, “Kyto spoiled my egg.” Her voice ended in the beginning of a death rattle.