A Fairy's Guide to Disaster (28 page)

“Thomas,” Sarah said.

Marie threw her hands in the air, shouting hallelujahs. Next to her, Sarah’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted dead away, falling off the sofa and landing softly on the floor.

CHAPTER 23

I rolled across the car seat and smacked into Sarah’s silk-covered leg. Gerald hit her a second later and Iris a second after that. Another swerve sent us tumbling back the other direction.

“For goodness sake, Marie,” said Sarah. “Slow down.”

Marie gripped one side of the steering wheel. “No time for that.”

“I’m certain their parents wouldn’t want them to get killed on the way back to Whipplethorn.” Sarah scooped all of us up and cradled us in her cupped hands.

“They’ll be fine. They’re tough. Aren’t you tough?” asked Marie.

“I feel sick,” said Iris.

“I’m tough,” said Gerald, turning a violent shade of green and falling over.

“Please slow down.” I flew off of Sarah’s hand and hovered between the two old ladies. “We’re not used to driving.”

“Sorry. You wanted to go home and I only have two speeds. Stop and fast,” said Marie.

Gerald struggled to the edge of Sarah’s palm. “Stop is not a speed.”

Marie gave him a flinty look. “Smart aleck, are we?” She grabbed a long black lever next to her right knee and shoved it with a violent thrust.

Sarah started looking a bit green herself. “I knew I never should’ve let you buy this car. It’s like giving a rocket to a pyromaniac.”

“Let me? Let me?” Marie wrenched the wheel to the right and I bounced off her cheek. “Since when does anyone let me do anything? This is my dream car. Why shouldn’t I have it?”

“I thought that Jaguar was your dream car,” said Sarah.

“I thought so, too, but it was a mite stodgy for me. This is more my speed.”

“Don’t all cars go fast?” I asked, landing on the flat area in front of the wheel.

“Not fast like this one. This is a Shelby Cobra. It does zero to sixty in four seconds.”

Marie’s right leg pressed down and we shot forward. I almost fell off the edge of the ledge.

“How are the babies back there?” I yelled.

Tess’s head peeked up over the back of Sarah’s black leather seat. She held up a small white box filled with cotton batting. The babies lazed on the batting and nibbled on a raisin. “They’re fine. It’s a good thing Gram thought of this box, though.”

Tess’s head disappeared and Judd’s popped up from the other side of the back seat. “This Mustang is awesome. Miss Marie, can I drive it when I get old enough?”

“I’ll teach you to drive.” Marie grinned. Despite the silver hair and glasses she looked positively wicked.

“Oh, yes,” said Sarah. “That’s just what we need.”

“Glad you agree,” said Marie.

“How is it that they took away my license,” said Sarah, “and you still have yours?”

“Because I was smart enough to get mine in Arizona. It doesn’t expire for another eleven years,” said Marie.

“Heaven help us.”

“Hold on!” shouted Marie. “Gravel road.”

I managed to grab the edge of the shelf before Marie hit the brakes. For a second all I could hear was the humans screaming as we skidded to a halt. Grey billowing dust surrounded the car and then everyone became quiet.

“Are we there?” asked Judd.

I staggered to my feet and pressed my face to the glass. The dust cleared, revealing a narrow road winding away from us through a dense forest. “Almost.”

Sarah set Gerald and Iris on her lap and looked at a flat grey box. “It says we have to drive up this road for two miles.”

“That didn’t take as long as I thought,” said Marie.

“No kidding,” said Gerald. “We must’ve been going a hundred miles an hour.”

“One hundred five, smarty pants,” said Marie. “Hold on to your hats.”

“Saints preserve us,” shouted Sarah.

“Calm down, old lady.”

“Old lady? You’re an old lady, too, or have you forgotten? You should be driving an Oldsmobile.”

“Oldsmobile? Car and Driver said they stink,” said Marie.

“You rock, Miss Marie,” said Judd.

“I do indeed rock, young man. And I will teach you to drive.”

“Awesome.”

Sarah dropped the flat box. “Please, Marie. Rebecca will never forgive me if something happens to these kids.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. Not on the gravel anyway. Do you really think I’d risk dinging my paint job?”

“I wish it were gravel all the way then,” said Iris.

Marie winked at Iris and drove onto the gravel road. I watched as the trees went by and admired the fall colors that had come out strongly in the days since we’d been gone. Yellows shone more brightly than I remembered. The burnished reds deeper and more beautiful.

I waved to Iris and Gerald. Iris waved back, but Gerald stared straight ahead. I watched him for a moment and then turned back to the road, holding my breath and waiting for Whipplethorn Manor to come into view. But it didn’t. Marie drove up into a little clearing and parked next to an enormous bare spot surrounded by piles of scrap wood and a scattering of slate tiles.
 

“Oh, no,” said Sarah.

Iris flew up. “What is it?” She spun around frantically, looking out the windows. “Where is it?”

“It’s gone,” said Sarah. “We’re too late.”

Gerald buried his face in his hands. Iris hovered above Gerald, her face blank. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

I held out my arms to Iris, but my little sister darted past me. She ran over the shelf and put her hands against the glass. My face got all tingly and hot. Whipplethorn Manor was gone. Nothing was left except a few moldy scraps of wood and rubble.

It made sense. The humans were taking all the beautiful woodwork, everything of value. Of course they would knock down the old, decrepit building. Despite the logic of it, I expected Whipplethorn to still be there, standing stately against the pines of the dark forest. Now nothing would be the same ever again.

Iris turned. Tears streamed down her face, rivers of pain. “What happened to Mom and Dad?”

“Out looking for us, I expect.” I gathered Iris into my arms and let her sob against my shoulder.

“May as well get out,” said Marie. “Someone might be left.”

Sarah opened her door and waved us out. Iris went first. Her wing beats slow. I expected her to drop to the ground immediately, but instead she fluttered over to the bare spot and landed in the dirt. I followed, dimly aware of the humans coming up behind us. The air teased me with its familiar smells. The pine trees somehow managed to smell both sticky and green. A blustery wind kicked up the dirt. It pelted against Iris, but she didn’t acknowledge it. She stood in the bare patch with shaking shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Did you know?” asked Iris.

“No, but it makes sense that they were going to tear it down.”
 

“Maybe if we got back sooner.”

“It wouldn’t have made any difference. We just would’ve seen it happening. I’m glad we weren’t here.”

“Me, too, I guess.”

Tess walked past them, holding the little white box. “Fairies. Are you still here? We have your kids. Come out.”

Iris lifted her head. “Don’t bother. If they were here, they would already have heard us and come out.”

“Why don’t you listen and see if you can hear them?” said Sarah.

Iris and Gerald closed their eyes and listened. After a few minutes, a tear slipped down Iris’s cheek.

“No one’s here,” she said.

Gerald nodded and put his arm around Iris’s shoulder. “We’ll find them.”

“We may as well go.” Marie straightened her hat as she glanced at the bare spot. “No use crying over spilt milk. We’ll find your parents. They’re just not here is all.”

“Does that mean you’ll drive at a reasonable speed on the way home?” asked Sarah.

“Not hardly.” Marie snorted.

We stood together, huddling in the middle of the bare spot. Tess’s face was fixed in a furious pout. At first, I thought she was angry, but then I saw Tess trembling. Sarah had her arm around her great-granddaughter, her face ashen, her red lips a slash of color in a dreary portrait.

“Don’t look so upset,” said Gerald. “This only means they’ve gone looking for us. Isn’t that right, Matilda?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

“That’s the spirit,” said Marie. “Speaking of spirits, I could use a drink. Let’s go find a liquor store. A disappointment this great calls for vodka and cranberry juice.”

Sarah smiled. “Oh Marie, you are bad.”

“Thank you, my dear. Let’s hit it.”

CHAPTER 24

MARIE’S hands rested on the steering wheel. She fidgeted with the numerous rings gracing her fingers. She spun a large ruby one around her index finger until she abruptly reached down and turned a silver key behind the wheel. The car rumbled to life. The car started to roll backwards. Easy started crying, waking Horc up from a snooze.

“What’s happening?” Horc stretched and yawned, his teeth glinting in the dim light.

“We’re leaving. We have to get Tess and Judd home before their mother has a fit,” said Sarah.

“Mom will understand,” said Tess.

“I’m sure she’ll be very understanding about a quest to find missing fairy parents,” said Marie with her eyes fixed on the mirror atop the window. She executed a quick turn and the car began creeping over the gravel back the way we’d come.

Horc crawled over to Easy, looked at his heaving back, and patted it. He glanced up at me for approval. I nodded and forced a smile. I wasn’t thinking about Easy or Iris or even my parents in those long moments crunching over gravel. Whipplethorn Manor had disappeared. Nothing I did would make it come back again. I couldn’t fly hard enough or do good enough to change it.

“Thank goodness,” said Marie. “The end of that gosh darn gravel.”

The gravel ended in another twenty feet and merged with dull blacktop. Marie’s rings clinked together as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel and my shoulders tensed, ready for speed. Soon we’d be heading away from Whipplethorn at a breakneck pace. My heart sank a little farther to think of it.

I checked to see if the babies were ready for a burst of speed and saw Easy’s head pop up out of the batting. Horc stopped patting him and jerked his head up to look at the window. He seemed to see something in the distance. I followed his gaze. I saw nothing but lengthening shadows and an endless stretch of road.

“Stop,” shouted Iris.

The car jolted to a halt as it rolled onto the blacktop. I tumbled off Marie’s shoulder and landed in her soft lap. Iris grabbed my hand and yanked me into the air. We flew straight up and landed on the top of the steering wheel.

“Look!” shouted Iris.

In the distance, a tiny sparkling jewel headed straight at us, moving with incredible speed. A second later, Easy’s mother was pressed against the glass, her arms spread wide. Her face held such a beatific expression of joy, I sucked in my breath at the sight of it.

“Open the window, Gram,” Tess cried.

Sarah pushed a button, the window slid down, and Easy’s mother flew in. She lit on the batting next to Easy and Horc, dropping to her knees. She sobbed and clutched both Easy and Horc to her breast. Iris and I flew down and hovered near them, waiting for the right moment to speak. Finally, Easy’s mother raised her large brown eyes. She held out her arms and we flew into her embrace. She smelled of home, the forest, and the exotic spices only she cooked with. I cuddled deeper into her embrace. Mrs. Zamora’s long brown hair cascaded over me. Even under the darkness of that lovely hair, the world became brighter. My burdens lighter.

“You, too, Gerald,” said Easy’s mother gently. “Yes, I mean you.”

I peeked out from Mrs. Zamora’s hair to see Gerald, looking as unsure as I’d ever seen him.

Easy’s mother held out her pale brown hand. “Come. Be with us.”

Gerald rushed to her and melted into the embrace. I felt him shake once and then be still. Perhaps his burden had lightened, too.

Mrs. Zamora hugged us tight and then released us, leaning back and wiping the tears from her cheeks. Easy clung to her waist and Gerald burrowed his face into the crook of her knee. Mrs. Zamora’s gaze fell on me. She touched my cheek, caressing and soothing.

“You have done well.” She tucked her lovely thick hair behind her ears, revealing a jagged cut extending from her temple to her jaw. Fine white threads laced the edges together and the swelling was minimal for such a painful wound.

“You know about spider webs,” I said.

“I do. Not as much as your grandmother, but perhaps you will teach me the rest.”

“You probably know everything in my head already.”

“Once we are adults and able to control our mindreading, we do not take what is not offered. For instance, I’m not sure how you have come by a spriggan baby. Nor do I know by what means these human ladies help you. I know the information is there for the taking, but I will not do it if I can possibly help it.”

“Former,” said Horc from under her left arm.

“What do you mean by former?” asked Mrs. Zamora.

“I am a former spriggan. Now I’m a wood fairy.”

Mrs. Zamora nodded. “That makes sense.”

Gerald raised his head. “It does?”

“Yes,” she said. “Spriggans that leave the nest rarely return to their old ways.”

“That’s good to know,” said Iris, pressing Mrs. Zamora’s hand to her cheek. “Do you know where our parents are?”

Sarah and Marie bent over close, their breath ruffling Mrs. Zamora’s hair. Tess and Judd leaned over the front seats, bobbing and weaving, trying to get a good look.

“They are out looking for you, as are the rest of the Whipplethorn fairies,” said Mrs. Zamora.

“All of them?” asked Iris, her eyes filling with tears.

“Yes, all. You are surprised?”

“I thought everybody but our parents would be out looking for new homes.”

“You were the only thought that graced their minds once they knew you were taken away with the mantel.”

I clasped Iris’s hand and squeezed. We smiled at each other through our tears.

Sarah lifted our box and held it so that Tess and Judd could see.

“Why are you still here, Mrs. Zamora?” I asked as I wiped my eyes.