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  “I am from Queen Carmina’s tribe, the Kib Fairies.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she hung her head. “Queen Carmina is … unwell,” she went on, her voice fainter. “She can no longer heal anyone, including herself.”

  “Quiet now,” said Queen Patchouli. “You and your horse must rest and refresh yourselves. My fairies are preparing food. You may tell us your story while we eat.”

  We finished splinting the fairy’s wing, and Queen Patchouli rang the bell again. Moments later, four fairies came, carrying the ends of a hammock made of willow branches. They lowered it to the ground, slipped it under the fairy girl, then scooped her up in it.

  The fairies carrying the injured fairy in the hammock flew away. The queen went to the resting horse and placed a hand on his forelock. His big brown eyes opened and he turned his head from side to side, searching for the fairy girl.

  “She is safe,” I said soothingly.

  “Come this way,” the queen said to the horse.

  I wasn’t surprised when the horse rose to his feet. After all, this was a dreamland, so why shouldn’t a horse understand speech? I wondered if he could speak, as the three of us walked together until the crystal path met another pathway.

  We stopped in a clearing where the Willowood Fairies had set up tables in concentric circles. On a raised circle in the center of these tables was another table, this one small and set for three. The fairy girl was already sitting there. Beside the table, a low bench was spread with oats, apples, and alfalfa. Clear water filled a crystal trough. The horse went to the food at once. Queen Patchouli told me to sit on one side of the injured fairy, and she sat on the other side.

  Then the queen rang the bell, and all the fairies sat. Once the whole tribe was seated, Queen Patchouli gently asked the injured fairy to introduce herself and tell her story.

  The horse stopped eating and looked up as the fairy began to speak.

  “I am Imishi of the Kib Fairies,” the fairy girl began. She was still sitting, but her voice carried across the clearing, and she put a hand to the string of shells at her neck. “Some call us the Shell Fairies. And this”—she waved her hand at the horse—“is Kir, prince of the horses of Kib Valley. As most of you know,” she said, glancing at me with an odd expression as if she had just now noticed that I had no wings, “our fairy queen, Carmina, is a great healer—or was, until …” Her voice broke. She drew a deep breath and started again. “In our valley, we take in animals, fairies, and other creatures when they are injured, sick, or frightened. Our tribe has a gift for healing them, under the direction of Queen Carmina.”

  I picked up a slice of pink fruit from my crystal plate and ate it while Imishi continued her tale.

  “Queen Carmina spoke to me of the Shadeblossom, a rare healing flower that grows only in rocky crevices and at cave entrances. The tiny blooms are a deep indigo color and difficult to see in the shadows. I offered to get some Shadeblossoms for her, but she said it was too dangerous and not worth the risk. Still, I dreamed of finding the flower for the queen, and one day I decided it was too important not to at least try to get one.”

  Imishi looked down and pushed some food around her plate with a slender two-pronged fork. Her cheeks flushed as she continued. “Our valley has high cliffs on one side. I had heard that Shadeblossoms grow outside some of the caves in those cliffs, so I was sure I could fly up to one of the caves, get a Shadeblossom or two, and be back before anyone knew I was gone.”

  I could feel tension building inside me. When I hear someone telling a story that starts out, “I was told not to do this, but I had a good reason, so I did it anyway,” I’m usually pretty sure that things are not going to end well.

  “One morning, I awoke early and flew to the cliffs. Once there, I searched for the caves, which are hard to see. I kept seeing something shiny out of the corner of my eye. Finally I saw a cave. I was getting tired and sore, but I flapped as hard as I could and reached the cave opening. Right inside was a single Shadeblossom. I was so excited that I didn’t see anything else in the cave. When I did notice a huge shadow coming at me, I stepped backward and fell out of the cave. Almost immediately something caught my fall—something soft, springy, and … sticky.

  “A spiderweb.”

  I shivered.

  “From the ledge above, a giant spider looked down at me. Each of its hairy legs was longer than I am tall.”

  I stared at the fairy girl. I couldn’t even imagine what I might do if I was faced with a spider that big. I could barely deal with a spider the size of a fingernail.

  “I tried to get out,” Imishi said, “but the more I struggled, the more the spiderweb stuck.

  “Just then, Queen Carmina, Azul, Roja, and Blanca—the best fliers from our tribe—showed up. Even though I could tell it saw them, the spider didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Maybe it was hoping more of us would get stuck, I don’t know. Azul, Roja, and Blanca pulled on my arms and legs, trying to break me free, while Queen Carmina cut through the web with a shell knife. The spider was almost upon us by the time my friends managed to free me. I heard my wing snap as they pulled me away, some of the spider silk still clinging to my wing. The fairies turned to fly away, but the web had caught Queen Carmina’s skirt.

  “While the queen was cutting herself free, the spider spit its venom at her. It hit Queen Carmina in the face, in her eyes….” Imishi gulped, and tears filled her own eyes. She swallowed hard and then continued. “It happened just as the last strand of web gave way under her knife. Blinded, she flew up against the rock and fell. Blanca caught her and just managed to lower her to the ground while the other two fairies carried me down.”

  Imishi raised her head and looked around. “It’s my fault. Queen Carmina is scarred and blind and full of fear. She cannot help the creatures who come to Kib Valley. The rest of us clean the sick who arrive in our valley daily, talk to them, feed them, and give them a place to rest. Some of them we can heal with the knowledge we have … but others … We cannot save all of those who come to us for help. Queen Carmina will not leave her palace rooms and she will not speak with anyone. She barely eats. I am to blame, so I must be the one to find a way to help her. Prince Kir came with me for the sake of the queen and for the sake of his sire, King Xel, who is gravely ill and is not likely to live without Queen Carmina’s healing skills.”

  The horse whinnied—startling everyone for a moment—and nodded his head.

  “How long has it been since you left?” Queen Patchouli asked.

  The fairy girl looked even more downcast. “Weeks, I think. Prince Kir has never been out of the Kib Valley.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid”—her voice was very small now—“I’m afraid we got lost. I actually meant to ask the Kalistonia Fairies for help, but”—she gestured around—“here I am.”

  Queen Patchouli sighed. “This is grave news. The fairies of Willowood have no particular healing powers. If your own tribe does not know how to aid your queen, I fear we would do no better. But you do need help. Many innocents could die if Queen Carmina cannot begin healing the sick again.”

  The fairy queen gave me a look.

  I knew what I had to do. “I’ll help,” I offered, my voice echoing in the clearing.

  Imishi’s face fell. “What can you do? You’re just a child—not even a fairy. This is a true emergency. How could you possibly be of help?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, and I was surprised that no sound came out.

  The fairy queen spoke instead, her tone firm. “You trust me, do you not, Imishi? Then believe me when I tell you that Zally Guevara, a fairy-godmother-in-training from the Inocentes Lineage, is your best hope for saving Queen Carmina.”

  “Are you certain you and your tribe cannot just fly over the land and find Kib Valley?” Imishi asked.

  “It is possible, but that could take weeks—just as your own journey did,” Queen Patchouli said. “I am surprised that you don’t know that most of the fairy queens in Aventurine rarely venture far from their o
wn queendoms. The one exception is when a fairy-godmother-in-training has completed a quest and then either I or another fairy queen has a vision of the path, so that we can be part of sending a girl on her way back to the waking world. This is the biggest reason that Zally should go with you. If she completes her quest, we will be able to find her—and the Kib Valley—very quickly afterward. Zally will help you find the fastest route back to Kib Valley while we gather supplies for the moment when Aventurine has determined Zally’s success.”

  My stomach gave a lurch. “Wait! What do you mean ‘find the fastest route’? I don’t have a map of Aventurine!”

  Queen Patchouli nodded. “There is no map. But, Zally, you are gifted with an intuition for place and space, which is why you are good with maps. This is your chance to learn to use that gift. As you travel and learn, you will make a map—a map unlike any you have seen.”

  “But how?” I mentally kicked myself for sounding so whiny. Imishi didn’t trust me to take on this task, and clearly I didn’t trust myself to do it.

  The fairy queen looked from Imishi to Kir and back to me. In a voice that allowed no argument, she said, “You are a member of the Inocentes Lineage, and the Kib Fairies are healers of the innocents in Aventurine. Who could be better suited to help them? If I did not think you were the wisest choice for this mission, I would not allow you to go. You did volunteer. And now your quest is twofold: you will begin to map Aventurine, and you will guide Kir and Imishi back to Kib Valley by the fastest route and do all you can to help the innocents there. On the way, you will also help the innocents you meet. But first, rest; you leave at dawn.”

  With that, she rang her glass bell, and the fairies began to clear the tables.

  4

  The Long Road

  After a night sleeping on a bed like a silky cloud, I was amazed at how refreshed I felt, even though I awoke at the crack of dawn. I gave a wry smile. I guess no matter what world I’m in, sleeping late is not an option. On the other hand, if what Queen Patchouli told me was right, I was still asleep in my own bed in my world. How could I sleep and wake up all inside a dream? Sleep within sleep. Very strange.

  I didn’t know where Imishi and Kir had slept, but they were up and ready to go by the time I pulled on my fairy travel clothes, hung my bag with the cacao pod in it crosswise over one shoulder, and emerged from the curtains that enclosed my canopy bed.

  Imishi had changed into a golden-brown dress the color of Prince Kir. The dress was made from overlapping layers of cloth that started at her shoulders, leaving her arms and wings free, and cascaded from the shell belt at her waist to her knees. Loose and comfortable, it seemed like a very practical travel outfit.

  Queen Patchouli, along with four of the Willowood Fairies, was there to see us off.

  “I know you’re worried,” I said, trying to reassure Imishi, “but I’ll do my best.”

  She nodded unconvincingly. Her face was pale, and I wondered if her splinted wing was hurting.

  “Prince Kir will carry both of you, along with supplies for your trip,” the fairy queen said. She turned to me. “Remember that he is a companion and not simply a means of transportation.”

  Kir snorted, then dipped his head twice in agreement.

  “The Shell Fairies consider the horses of Kib Valley cousins,” Imishi said. “We would never ride any horse without its permission.”

  “That is very wise,” Queen Patchouli said, patting the golden horse’s flank. One of the fairies beside her came forward, carrying full saddlebags. The fairies asked for Kir’s permission—and got a nod—before they slung the packs over his back and secured them with a cinch.

  “There is plenty of food for you,” the fairy queen went on. “There are only two pods of water in your supplies, but the horses of Kib Valley are known for their ability to locate drinking water, and Prince Kir should be able to find what you need.” She looked at me. “Zally, I have these for you.”

  Another fairy handed me a roll of yellow parchment paper and a speckled brown feather that was about eight inches long. I unrolled the parchment but the sheets were blank.

  “For your mapmaking,” the queen explained. “Keep these things with you in your bag. You have everything you need now.”

  “Thank you,” I said, wishing that the maps had at least some markings on them to start with for me to use as reference points.

  With a mysterious smile, Queen Patchouli showed us another roll of parchment pages. They were blank, too. “We will keep these pages here in the Willowood with us. Our pages are connected to yours with magic. Whenever you draw something on your map, Zally, it will appear on our pages as well.

  “And now, our other gifts. Prince Kir, you are to have our gift to you; the blanket beneath the saddlebags is of Willowood fairy silk. It will never rub or chafe. It will help those who you have given permission to ride you to stay on your back, so that you need not worry about them falling. It will work in all but the most extreme circumstances. For you, Imishi, weightless shoes to protect your feet for walking and riding while your wing heals. Lastly,” the queen said, handing me another piece of parchment no longer or wider than my hand, “I cannot tell you how or when to use this, but you will know when the time is right.”

  I looked at the paper. It was a recipe in Abuelita’s handwriting! Chocolatl.

  “Imishi, you must sit back on Kir and fold your wings up out of the way so that nothing bumps them. And, Zally, you must find the way for your companions and guide them on the surest path.”

  I took a deep breath and nodded.

  I must have looked uncertain, because Queen Patchouli gave me a look that reminded me of my mother. “Although I have asked you to lead, Zally, remember that you are not alone.” Her eyes turned to Imishi as well. “Success for all of you depends on finding each other’s strengths and combining them to solve problems.”

  “I … okay,” I said, then looked at Imishi and added, “I guess we’d better get started.”

  “I am ready,” Imishi said. Wincing, she overlapped the halves of her wings, then folded them back and upward so that her splinted wing was neatly tucked in. It looked almost as if she had only one half-sized wing at the center of her back. After that, the fairies helped us up onto Kir. I was in front, Imishi behind me.

  A faint feeling of direction unexpectedly tugged at my mind. I remembered the few riding lessons I’d taken from my friend Cody’s aunt, who owned a stable upstate. I doubted that a horse prince like Kir would respond well even to gentle kicks or nudges. So I simply wound my left hand into the base of his thick golden mane.

  “May I tug your mane, just a little, to show you which direction to go?” I asked Kir. He whinnied and bobbed his head. To my surprise, I felt a stronger answer from Kir—as if he was not just saying yes, but trying to reassure me that I could guide our small group on this quest. “Turn this way.” I pulled his mane gently in the direction of the feeling that tugged at me, noticing with surprise that I sounded far more certain than I felt.

  “All speed and safe travels,” Queen Patchouli called after us.

  She and her Willowood Fairies rose into the air and waved as we headed down the path and through the trees toward the stream. When I looked back, I could still see the fairies hovering up above the Willowood, watching.

  We rode all morning long, following my instincts on which direction to go. It was sunny and just warm enough to be comfortable as Kir alternately walked and cantered. I don’t know if it was because Aventurine is a magical place or because Kir is a wonderful horse; either way, Imishi and I seemed to be in tune with him and adjusted to his gait automatically. I loved the sound of the hoofbeats and feeling the sun on my face and the breeze in my long hair as we rode.

  You may have ridden a horse before, so I won’t explain that part to you, or if you haven’t ridden one yourself, you have friends who can tell you how wonderful it is. But here’s the part no one usually mentions. First of all, after a couple of hours, you begin to wish that yo
u could sit or stand or lean or lounge in any other position. Second, no matter how exciting your ride is, or how beautiful the scenery is, or how nice the weather is, or how pleasant your companions might be, after four to five hours, riding a horse can get tiring. We stopped every few hours to rest, usually when Kir came across a pond or a stream where we could all drink and splash our faces with the cool water.

  I’m pretty sure Imishi’s wing was giving her trouble, because whenever something bumped it, all of her muscles tightened up. But she didn’t complain. Instead, she would make comments like “This is taking a long time,” or “I don’t know if I can survive a year without flying.” The one that got to me—and only after the tenth time she said it—was “Are you sure this is the right way?”

  The tenth time she said it, I did get, well, grumpy.

  I know, I should have been more understanding. Imishi was concerned about her queen and her tribe, and she had a painful broken wing. I almost always get along with people, really I do. But I was doing my best, and I was hungry, and my muscles were sore, and every time she said it, it felt like she meant it personally.

  “Look,” I said through gritted teeth, “I didn’t ask to be the leader here. I never said I knew how to get to the Kib Valley, but Queen Patchouli thought I was—am—your best chance. Plus, I’m pretty sure you don’t know the way, either, or you wouldn’t have gotten lost for weeks trying to find help.”

  “Well, it looks like I’m still lost and still need to find help,” Imishi retorted.

  I sighed. “Let’s have lunch,” I suggested. When I started babysitting last summer, my mother told me one of the easiest ways to get children to stop fighting was to offer them food, not as a bribe but because eating is relaxing and brings people together. It couldn’t hurt to try with Imishi.

  We sat on a couple of boulders beside a stream. Imishi passed around some of the food from the fairy saddlebags: an oat mixture for Kir and bread for Imishi and me. The bread had nutmeg and cinnamon in it. After eating, we did all seem happier, even though we hadn’t talked much. I rinsed my hands and face and drank from the stream. Then I sat on the grass beside the boulders and tried to think of what direction we should go in next.