IN FAIRY HAVEN, the water was an inch deep, up to the knees of the fairies. In the dells and dingles it was an inch and a half deep. This may not seem serious, but if a fairy fell out of the air, her wings would become waterlogged and she would have to struggle to stand up. Fairies have drowned in puddles.
Two dozen water talents were keeping the Home Tree dry, for now. A squad of mud talents was building a dike around it. They held their wings high, their shoulders aching.
Beyond the dike, artist Bess had spread out a canvas on which she’d painted a desert scene so convincing that the ground under it stayed dry. Nearby, a squad of cooking talents used fairy dust to boil the floodwater as soon as it bubbled up. Most of it evaporated, creating a thick fog.
But these successes were limited. Most of Fairy Haven was wet.
The animal talents had saved as many earthworms as they could, but fewer and fewer of the creatures were reaching the surface. Beck was rounding up the moles and leading them to safety.
While the fairies worked, their thoughts were with the questers, wondering if a wand was on the way. Everyone tried to think of an excuse to borrow it before it descended into the lagoon forever.
Vidia, cooped up in Rani’s room, was being driven wild by Rani’s leaky ceiling. She was about to stuff Rani’s pet minnow into the leak—when she had a better idea. She flew to the ceiling and used the thumbtack heel of her left shoe to enlarge the pinprick hole. Plaster chips fell into Minnie’s tub.
Prilla had been helping Dulcie bake vast sheets of sponge cake to mop up floodwater, when it occurred to her that her own talent might end the flood. She pictured the imaginary tunnel that took her to the mainland. She blinked through it and flew above the heads of Clumsy children at a puppet show, calling out to them, “Clap to make the flood dry up in Fairy Haven!”
Most looked up and clapped.
She blinked to the rehearsal of a school play. “Clap to end the fairies’ flood!”
The young actors clapped.
She blinked to four children playing Go Fish. “Clap to lower the water in Fairy Haven!”
The four clapped.
Prilla returned to Fairy Haven. The water had risen another quarter inch. But maybe without her it would have risen a half inch. She blinked away again.
Mother Dove was alone. Beck had brought lunch, but then had to return to the moles. Mother Dove longed to fly to the questers, keep them on course, remind them that effort was better than wishes. But she couldn’t leave the egg unless her own wish came true. The egg needed the warmth of her body. She could leave a chick for a while but not an egg.
The wind was so strong that Ree and Tink made almost no headway against it.
Rani noticed neither the wind nor the sag of the carrier. She saw only the wand at her feet. She bent down for it.
“Rani!”
Rani dropped the wand guiltily and turned.
Tink was flying backward, her ponytail blown against her right cheek. “Rani, wish for new wings so you can help us.”
Rani wanted new wings. She missed flying and hated having to depend on Brother Dove or other fairies to take her everywhere. But she wanted friendship with Soop more than she wanted wings.
She saw how low the carrier was flying. “I’ll throw Queen Tutupia’s presents over.” She jettisoned them all, except the picnic basket, which weighed little.
The carrier bobbed higher, but they gained almost no speed.
“Rani,” Tink said, “we need another pair of—”
“—wings. The wind will die down soon.”
Tink didn’t even tug her bangs. She just looked disgusted and turned to fly forward again.
Consumed by wand madness, Rani didn’t care. She reached for the wand.
“Rani!”
Hugging the wand defiantly, Rani faced Ree.
“I command…” Ree touched her tiara. She hardly ever issued commands. There were better ways to rule. “I command you to wish for new—”
“—wings. I won’t.” Rani had never disobeyed Ree before. “Why don’t you wish for them for me? You can wish it as easily as I can.”
Ree didn’t want to give her wish to Rani so Rani could have whatever she wanted and wings, too. Tink didn’t either and was furious—at herself for not being generous and at Rani for being selfish.
With as much dignity as she could muster, Ree said, “I’ll discuss your contrariness…” She didn’t want to call it more than that. “…later.”
Rani closed her eyes and thought, Make Soop think of me as her friend. Make her like me. Make her like me very much. She waved the wand.
As had become her custom, Soop was in a tower room of the mermaids’ castle, scanning the sea for a tiny fairy with a wand. Abruptly, she found herself regretting her harsh words to the fairy. And she’d yelled at her. That had certainly been a mistake. Rani might be a fairy, but she was a superior one, worthy of a mermaid’s friendship.
Soop wondered if she should stop flooding Fairy Haven. It wasn’t polite to drown your friend’s home.
But her anger was stronger than her goodwill. The flood was on until the wand was delivered. Mermaids weren’t to be trifled with.
However, if Rani did return, Soop would give her a warm welcome.
Rani put down the wand, satisfied. She breathed deeply. My first breath, she thought, as a mermaid’s friend. She didn’t feel different, but she knew she was different. She brushed away a tear—and remembered her argument with Tink and Ree.
Now she recognized how slowly they were moving. At this rate it would take a month just to reach the sea, and their fairy dust would run out long before then. Ahead of her, she saw the strain in Tink’s shoulders. She saw Ree kick the air fruitlessly.
I should have wished for wings, she thought.
She still could.
Wand madness crept back in. She thought Mother Dove might approve of this second wish, since it was to help end the flood.
She raised the wand. She’d never before broken a promise to Mother Dove.