ten

Dinner that night was not so bad. The food was delicious, and the conversation was lively. All the other fairies—even the ones from the mainland—were perfectly nice. Fawn Deere, from Doe Isle, seemed almost like a friend. Avery was so busy serving that Golden hardly caught a glimpse of her, but when she did, they exchanged smiles. If Claudine and Amanda hadn’t made their guests feel so nervous, Goldie and the visiting fairies might have had a lovely time.

After dinner, when she went up to her bedroom, Goldie was so exhausted from her long day that she fell asleep the moment she sank down into her pillows. She didn’t hear the din of carriages and the murmur of voices and the whir of fairy wings passing her windows all night long. She slept soundly, and dreamt of seals, spruce trees, and a carpetbag with wings.

In the morning she woke early. On Sheepskerry she always rose with the sun, and she could not change her habits in one day. Not to mention that the fancy-dress party was this very evening! How could anyone sleep!

Goldie dressed quickly—for her—in a floaty little high-waisted dress with a lovely print of crimson poppies. And red boots. She swept her hair into a high ponytail, hastily made up her bed, and decided to go downstairs to explore. “I’ll fix myself some breakfast before they wake up,” she said to herself.

The big, long hallway was silent and still. Goldie crept past the closed doors of bedroom after bedroom and found her way down the stairs. The Townley dining room was empty. Nor was there anyone in the parlor, though a fire was burning brightly. “Aha!” said Goldie to herself. “Someone’s been up and about.”

She hadn’t noticed it last night at supper, but there was a little doorway off to the side of the dining room. She opened it carefully. It led to a wide stairway, and Goldie heard the clatter of the kitchen at the base of it. So that’s where the food comes from, she said to herself. I thought it was magic!

The kitchen was a hive of activity. There was a fairy cook with an open, cheerful face. She must be Caraway, thought Goldie. Next to her flitted another fairy, but she was working so quickly Goldie could hardly tell who it was. Then she realized—

“Avery!” she said.

“Oh my goodness, miss! What are you doing here? All the fairies are asleep.”

“No, they’re not,” said Goldie. “You’re a fairy, and you’re up and working away. What can I do to help?”

“I’m Caraway Cooke,” said the older fairy. “And since you’re here, keep yourself out of the way. You modern fairies don’t know how to do much of anything, anyway. Not like my dear sister, Saffron, though of course there’s no room for her in this house.” Avery waggled her eyebrows at Golden at that remark. “Avery, tend that fire. It’s not hot enough for me to put the scones in.”

“But I’m squeezing the oranges—”

“Then hurry up about it, please.” Caraway Cooke was not unkind, but she was very, very firm. She pointed to a small sheet of paper pinned up on the wall. “Try again to read the note I left you.”

Goldie looked over to where Caraway Cooke was pointing. There was a long list pinned to a corkboard. There were funny little doodles drawn all over it.

Avery flew over to consult the list of jobs for the day. She stared at it for a long time.

Goldie flew over to her side.

“I like the drawings,” said Goldie. “Did you do those?”

Avery nodded. “I like to draw,” she said. She was staring at the list. “Could you just . . . read it to me?”

Goldie could tell it was hard for her to ask. She smiled. “I’m not very good at reading,” she said.

Caraway Cooke dropped a spoon. Avery’s wings nearly stopped.

“Not very good at reading?” said Avery. “Then why aren’t you a—”

“Who’s not very good at reading?” Claudine’s voice cut through the kitchen. She was floating at the top of the stairs.

“I’m—” Goldie began.

“Um, what she means,” Avery said quickly, “is she’s not going to make a big fuss about my reading trouble. Breakfast will be along in just a few more minutes.”

“See that it is,” said Claudine. “Golden, you should be upstairs. This way, please.”

“I’m coming,” said Goldie, but she stayed right where she was. Claudine did not look happy.

“What was all that about?” asked Golden when Claudine had shut the door. “Why can’t I say that I’m—”

“Don’t you know?” asked Avery.

“Know what?” asked Golden.

“Don’t you know,” said Caraway Cooke very quietly, “that fairies who aren’t good at reading or numbers become serving fairies here on the mainland?” She put the scones in the oven and closed the door fiercely. “I’m a cook because I’m a Cooke sister, and it’s what I love to do. I’d very much like to have my younger sister working here too, but the Townley fairies prefer Avery—she comes cheap.”

Caraway wiped her hands on her apron. “Avery’s drawings should be in the Gallery of Fairy Art, but she has such trouble reading, don’t you, Avery?” Caraway looked at her with great tenderness. “I do my best here, but I’m no teacher. And she has no sisters to help her. She has no one at all.”