sixteen

Sylva did not know what to do. Queen Mab’s orchestra of hummingbirds and pumpkin drums and honeybees would be far too loud for the fairies to hear the trolls’ thrumming. And if they couldn’t hear the trolls coming, they might turn their backs on the Narwhal’s Tusk. Even a moment of inattention could spell disaster.

“A-nan-na!” said Squeak.

“You’re right!” said Sylva. “We’ve got to save the Narwhal’s Tusk. We have to tell Queen Mab. But how will we do it? All the older fairies are at the ball, and just the littlest sisters are left behind. Oh, Squeak, whatever will we do?”

Even as far away as Sylva was, she could still feel the faint rumble of the trolls as they tunneled to the palace. She had to get there, and quickly.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” said Sylva. Everything seemed a bit scary now.

“Sylva, it’s me. Poppy!” called a familiar voice.

“Oh, Poppy! I’m so glad it’s you,” said Sylva as she opened the door. “Did you hear it, too?”

“I did!” said Poppy. “That rumbling and brummmbling. Is it what I think it is?”

“Yes, it must be the trolls,” said Sylva. “And they want—”

“—the Narwhal’s Tusk!”

The two best friends caught their breath for a moment. Then Sylva said, “We’ve got to stop them. And I think I know how.”