eighteen

Sylva was at Queen Mab’s palace in an instant. The brummmbling of the trolls had stopped. All was quiet and calm. Could she have been wrong? What if she flew into the ball, in her sisters’ borrowed wings, and told Queen Mab there would be a troll attack—when it was perhaps nothing more than thunder all along? She didn’t dare. Not till she was perfectly sure.

Sylva peeked in the window. “Oh my!” she said in a whisper.

A long golden hall of gleaming glass and glowing candles, jewels, and polished stone opened up before her. Queen Mab’s orchestra played the most enchanting music. There was the petting zoo in one corner! And cupcakes piled high in another. There were loads of presents! And, oh, the fairies’ gowns!

Every fairy on Sheepskerry was dressed in her greatest finery.

“There are Poppy’s sisters!” said Sylva to herself. “I will have to tell Poppy how beautiful they look!” Iris Flower was in purple, of course; Susan was in wild orange, to show off her deep black eyes; and Daisy was in Swiss dot, looking like a summer meadow. The Oak sisters, Acorn and Seed, looked so elegant in their rustling brown gowns with their pretty caps. The Seaside sisters were there, too, in shades of blue, aqua, and gray-green. How lovely they all looked. But where were the Bell girls? Where were the Fairy Bell sisters?

At last Sylva caught sight of them.

If her sisters’ gowns had looked beautiful at the Bell fairy house, they looked absolutely breathtaking inside Queen Mab’s palace. Clara’s turquoise silk glistened in the candlelight, with Sylva’s chips of sea glass catching the most light of all. Rosy was beautiful in her sweet pink gingham, which matched the glow in her cheeks. And Golden was, of course, simply perfect, the most stylish young fairy there by far.

Sylva cast her eye around the ballroom again. Something was missing, but what was it?

Wings! None of the fairies had wings!

Just then, the orchestra stopped playing. A single trumpet fanfare burst forth. Queen Mab was about to speak. Sylva thought she felt a tiny rumble, but she couldn’t be sure. Did she dare interrupt the ball at the most important moment of all?

“Welcome to the Fairy Ball!” Queen Mab proclaimed, with a wide smile. “Tonight, you came to me wingless. Now I will reward your trust with the Gift of the Season. Beware: You will feel the chill of moonlight for a moment while I work my magic. Then you will dance with wings of diamonds.”

Join your hands and hold your breath,

Spirits come from deepest depth,

By Narwhal’s Tusk and our own might,

Wings: Transform from brightest light!

Replace our wings of every day.

Shine and sparkle! Wings away!

Sylva held her breath. At that moment icy moonlight fell on the fairies’ shoulders and turned into wings of diamonds.

There was a gasp as the fairies looked around at one another.

“Oh, Queen Mab! Thank you!”

“They’re incredible!”

“I’ve never seen anything so amazing in my life!”

“Can I keep them?” (Was that Goldie?)

The new wings sparkled in the light and threw off rainbows of color on the windows and walls. Diamond wings moved differently from regular wings—slower, more gracefully—and they looked almost as glorious folded up as they did spread out for flight. Sylva could have watched all night.

But even as the fairies spread their new wings, there was a very faint rumbling and a brummmbling from underneath the palace. It jolted Sylva back to attention. This time there was no mistake. The trolls had chosen their moment well!