four

That summer, Sylva Bell was seven fairy years old. Fairy years are different from our years, so it is a long, long time between birthdays. That is why fairies look forward to their birthdays so very much.

“What sort of cake would you like this year, Sylva?” asked Rosy. The sisters were in the garden behind their fairy house, fetching water from Deepwater Spring.

“I think Sylva should have a carrot cake,” said Clara. “Carrot cakes can be quite healthful for a fairy.”

“Better for a rabbit,” said Goldie. “Right, Squeakie?”

Squeak squeaked.

Sylva flew over to the handle and started pumping.

“Hold on, Sylva!” said Clara. “You need to prime it first.”

If you haven’t pumped springwater recently, you might have forgotten, as Sylva had, that the pump must be primed to get the water flowing. The sisters always left a small jug of water near the pump for that very purpose. “This will start things up,” said Clara.

Sylva pumped the creaky handle up and down, up and down. The water gurgled, sputtered, and then came out in a gush.

“It’s freezing!” Sylva laughed.

“Mind my shoes!” said Goldie. She had painted them herself, and she was very fond of them.

“If I were Sylva,” said Rosy, carefully filling their water jugs, one at a time, “I think I would like to make my own choice of birthday cake.”

“I would like to make my own choice,” Sylva said. Cakes, of course, were the Bakewell sisters’ specialty. Sylva remembered the splendid cake she had had at their fairy house last summer. “Could we have a blueberry cake?” she asked.

“Coomada, coomada!” said Squeak.

“Yes, you love berries, don’t you?” said Rosy, sweeping up baby Squeak in her arms. Squeak had a language all her own, which her sisters understood.

Clara, Rosy, Goldie, and Sylva headed back to the house with their jugs of water. It was hard work.

“I won’t mind being grown up so we can just magic water whenever we want,” said Goldie. “How heavy these are!”

Sylva was still thinking about her birthday cake. “Could we make a practice cake today, do you think?” she asked, and Rosy smiled. “There are one or two bushes where the blueberries are already ripe.”

“Not down near Troll Hollow, I hope,” said Clara gravely.

“Not too close by,” said Rosy. She shivered. “I stay very clear of Troll Hollow and the awful trolls who live there.”

They all thought about the trolls and their terrible mischief for a moment. “No, the berries are on the east side of Sunrise Hill. We’ll be fine there.”

“I’d go with you,” said Goldie. “But I might catch my wings on the bushes.”

“My wings are not as delicate as yours,” said Rosy. “So I don’t mind going.”

“Carrot cake would be more practical,” Clara said.

But Rosy was already off, with Squeak in one arm and an empty acorn cap in the other, to pick berries for her sister.