eight

That afternoon was spent in lessons (Magic, Flying at Night, Troll Tracks), and so it went by pretty quickly. Sylva was feeling a bit better just before suppertime that evening. Then Clara said, “Supper will be a little late tonight, Sylva, I’m sorry to say.”

“Oh, that’s right!” said Goldie. “We have an extra lesson.” She sighed. “Poor us.”

“That’s too bad,” said Sylva. “What is it? Not Fairy Dishwashing, I hope!” Fairy Dishwashing was a subject Sylva always tried to avoid.

“No,” said Clara. “An extra dancing lesson. The Grace sisters say they’ll tie pebbles on our wings and have us waltz around that way.”

“Pebbles on your wings?” said Sylva. “Why would they do that?”

“At the ball, our wings will be heavier,” said Rosy gently, “so the Graces want us to practice. The lesson is called Dancing with Diamond Wings.”

Well, if you were Sylva you would have done the same. She spun in the air and flew off without another word.

“You only have to wait another year!” Goldie called after her.

“Hush, Golden Bell,” said Rosy. “Don’t make it harder for her.”

“Oh, she doesn’t mind,” said Goldie.

But Sylva minded. She minded very much indeed.