Lilu's Book Read online

  When my eyes practically bugged out of my head, Queen Patchouli gave me a stern look. “Becoming a fairy godmother relies on a girl’s ability to use her special gifts—her powers—in a way that makes her stronger as well as strengthens those around her. Not everyone who is given a challenge is able to fulfill that promise.”

  This was way more intense than making sure I had the right body alignment for a rip entry in my springboard dive. If my dive was off, I’d just wind up with a lousy score. But this?

  “What if … I mean, really. I might fail. Then Zeus and Zandria will lose their child because of me! It would be all my fault.”

  The idea made me shiver. Near the water’s edge, where a thin ribbon of foam pushed back and forth across the lip of grass, the whooping cranes peered at me with watchful eyes. Waiting.

  “If you go on this journey and give it your all, Zeus and Zandria will understand that you tried.”

  “But this was probably their only chance to, you know, um …” This was embarrassing stuff to talk about with a queen.

  “Reproduce.” Queen Patchouli squeezed my fingers again as she said the word. I felt my face and ears get so warm I thought I was at a bonfire—and I was the marshmallow getting toasted!

  I blew out a long sigh. “I know a lot about their behaviors. I know they’re endangered. And I know that people with a lot more experience than me have tried a lot of different ways to help them migrate and, um, you know, reproduce and all. It’s really tough. That’s one of the main reasons why they’re so rare.”

  “Indeed. But what you have is something that many others do not—you have a strong bond with earth, air, fire, and water. Your ancestral heritage as part of the Songa Lineage connects you to the elements and provides you with everything you need.”

  “But I don’t think—” I started to protest.

  “No one can tell you how your journey will end, but that isn’t the point. The only thing that matters is the adventure that lies ahead and how or if you will choose to proceed.”

  But it wasn’t just a challenge or a dare. It was more.

  Queen Patchouli had this way of looking at me. It was like looking into a combination of strong-woman eyes—Mom, Nan-Nan, Coach Regina. Just like the other women in my life who pushed me to push myself, Queen Patchouli’s gaze penetrated me and made me feel like no matter what happened, she had faith in me. Slowly, I began to nod.

  Suddenly two really big blue and green dragonflies zipped across my face and circled Queen Patchouli’s head.

  I swatted at them, but she just laughed.

  “Stop it, you two. It’s time for you to meet Lilu,” she said.

  The dragonflies hovered in the air before us. They sizzled with a zapping sound, sort of like what those electric bug zappers on Nan-Nan’s back porch sounded like. The dragonflies expanded until they were the size of a model airplane, then the size of a large kite.

  I shrank back in my seat, not quite sure how big these bugs were planning on growing!

  At that moment, they began to sparkle and glow. And all of a sudden, I was staring at two twin fairy girls the same size as me!

  Queen Patchouli stood, and I followed her lead.

  “Lilu, I’m pleased to introduce you to Hanna and Jo. They are Dragonfly Fairies and guides on your quest. They will show you the way to Queen Alaina’s Castle on Stilts.”

  “Hello,” I said. I felt more nervous meeting these girls than I had been when I met Queen Patchouli.

  “Hi! Nice to meet you, Lilu,” said Hanna with a friendly wave.

  “Hi,” said Jo, giving me a brief nod.

  The twin fairies had skin the color of dark coffee and ink-black hair in the thinnest braids I’d ever seen, which hung to their calves. Their dragonfly wings had transformed into shimmering pearl-colored fairy wings, longer and thinner than Queen Patchouli’s.

  The only noticeable difference between the two was their startling eyes. Hanna’s were an electric green, while Jo’s were a shockingly bright shade of blue. I’d never seen anyone with eyes that color, but I gave a mental shrug—they were magical fairy creatures after all!

  Magical fairy creatures with a seriously hot sense of style.

  Hanna was wearing a high-waisted black skirt that seemed to be made out of beetle shells—or maybe dragonfly skins?—knit together. Every time she moved, her skirt shone with a blue-black glow like it was sewn from tiny sequins. Her shirt was the same vivid green as her eyes and seemed to be made of silk, though it was probably made out of unicorn hair or something. Her shoes were the same black ballet flats that I’d noticed on all of the fairies so far. But these had black ribbons that laced around her ankles and tied in a delicate bow in the back.

  Jo wore what looked like buttery-soft black leather leggings with a long black tunic. The tunic was cinched around her waist with a wide belt the same color as her blue eyes. The weave of her belt was extraordinarily complicated, with bright beads flashing throughout.

  Man, was I sick of this purple wet suit!

  “I’ll bet you’d like to change into something more appropriate for your journey,” said Queen Patchouli.

  “Yes!” I said, nodding enthusiastically. “That would be great. But I don’t have any other clothes here.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Hanna. “Patchouli’s got you covered.”

  “It’s true. Every fairy-godmother-in-training gets her own special wardrobe. It’s part of your journey,” said Queen Patchouli.

  Queen Patchouli walked to the river’s edge and moved her left hand like she was stirring a pot. The water froze and then swirled, mimicking her hand motion, until it rose up to create a cylinder of moving water right in the river!

  “You’ll find everything you need in there. Just step through,” said Queen Patchouli.

  It was much easier to step through a wall of moving water than into a pitch-black doorway in a willow tree’s trunk. An icy chill washed over me as I walked into the impromptu dressing room, but I stayed dry and the dark rippling water provided complete privacy.

  A large wardrobe carved out of ice stood in front of me. It was pretty plain except for a crescent moon carved into the top, which reminded me of the crescent moon shell I was still clutching. I decided to find a bag for it in this wardrobe.

  When I opened the wardrobe, I couldn’t help letting out a little shriek of excitement. I had officially entered a dreamworld of clothes! All this time I had been imagining a movie-of-the-week version of my family; well, now I just wanted to do a movie montage of trying on outfits!

  My stomach clenched. Tan should have been there to try on these clothes with me. We would have had so much fun! Just like our trips to the mall when we both selected one ridiculous outfit that the other girl had to try on. The trips always ended with laughing fits in front of the mirror.

  I sighed and studied the options. I didn’t want to take too long since Queen Patchouli had said the storm was moving fast.

  The wardrobe was packed with clothes, and mirrors hung on the inside of each door. There were elaborate dresses and flowing skirts of materials so soft and silky they might as well have been made out of clouds. Brightly patterned blouses and crocheted tops of all shades hung to the left of the dresses and skirts.

  On my right, every type of pants imaginable, from patched jeans and leggings to linen shorts, hung next to scarves and bags. Underneath I found a drawer filled with shoes, and again every style was represented, from completely impractical sky-high heels to equally ridiculous pink rain boots.

  I shucked off my wet suit and water shoes—finally!—and quickly tried on a dress with crocheted straps and detailing. It was a beautiful crisp white. But then I thought about the camping trips my family used to go on. There was no way white was going to fly, and a dress probably wasn’t all that realistic, either.

  Next I pulled out a silky pink tank top as soft as flower petals. It would be easy to move in. Nearby, there was a creamy crocheted shrug to layer over the tank top.
br />   A pair of pants in a berry-red color caught my eye. They were fitted cargo capris with loads of pockets—perfect for storing my crescent moon shell!

  I tried on the silky top, crocheted shrug, and comfy pants and spun in front of the mirrors. Not too shabby!

  In the drawer of shoes I found gold-colored woven sandals. When I slipped them on, they wove themselves to my feet! These were definitely not going to need to be broken in.

  I checked myself in the mirrors again but still felt like something was missing. Rummaging through drawers, I came up with a few much-needed accessories: lots of braided and beaded bracelets and a red headband to push back my naturally springy curls into a cute Afro puff. The bright berry color popped against my dark brown hair.

  I was ready.

  I stepped back through the water to the small group waiting at the river’s edge.

  Hanna whistled appreciatively as I did a little twirl in my new outfit. “I love that shrug,” she said.

  “Lilu,” said Queen Patchouli, “do you have your crescent moon shell?”

  I unzipped my pants pocket and handed the shell to her.

  She took a single strand of saw grass from the brush at the river’s edge and wound it around her wrist. The hearty grass began to change, softening until it turned into a sparkling silver ribbon. Then Queen Patchouli used the ribbon to pierce a single hole through the crescent moon shell and draped it around my neck.

  I felt my cheeks redden. It was like being awarded my diving medal all over again.

  “Touch the crescent,” she said. I hesitated, but she insisted. “Go on.”

  So I did.

  Cucimita. Good luck, my beautiful sister.

  It was Tandy. I could still hear her loud and clear without holding the shell to my ear.

  “Although you are here and she is not quite here, if you need your sister, touch the necklace. She will always be with you.”

  Next, Zandria brought over beautiful white and yellow water lilies. She dropped them gently into Queen Patchouli’s outstretched hands.

  Queen Patchouli intertwined their stems, which appeared to be dripping wet, then stuck them in my hair behind my ear. I cringed, waiting for the water to trickle into my blouse, but … no trickle.

  “They’re so beautiful. But they’re water flowers. They’ll die quickly, won’t they?”

  Queen Patchouli smiled. “They are very special. The lilies are all part of a bigger plan. Use them when you need them most, but their fragrance and beauty are yours forever.”

  She told me that Hanna and Jo were my special gifts as well. “They will be your fairy guides. Just remember, you are the leader and this is your mission.”

  Hanna and Jo both nodded their agreement.

  Then Queen Patchouli gave me a small item. Wood. With carvings.

  “A totem?” I asked.

  She nodded. “You should find this totem useful on your journey.”

  I studied the dark wood engravings and saw the roaring head of a lion merging with the body of a crocodile.

  “But … how?” I said, bewildered. How could any of these things help me speed past a magical hurricane, rescue a lost crane egg, and return it in time to hatch with its twin?

  “Queen Patchouli, I don’t under—” I had been looking down, staring at the totem. When I looked up, Queen Patchouli was gone.

  6

  The Ba-dum Boat

  I did a quick spin. “Where—”

  But I didn’t have a chance to finish my question. Jo and Hanna began tugging me along the riverbank. They pulled me around a bend, and the lush ferns parted to reveal the cave’s opening and the edge of the Silven Marsh.

  As bright as the cave had been, the marsh was bathed in darkness. A fat silver moon sat high in the star-speckled sky, and night creatures sang their songs.

  “You have everything you need. Everything Queen Patchouli can give you. The rest is up to you,” Jo said.

  “And we’re here to help you, too, of course,” said Hanna.

  I was still too stunned to speak. The twin fairies half pushed, half tugged me up to the marsh’s edge, where a long boat was tied. I climbed aboard after Hanna, as Jo unhooked the lines from the shore and pushed the boat off.

  “Wow,” I said, turning in a circle and taking it all in. “This is not your average boat!”

  The wooden craft had a flat bottom with decorative veins of silver swirling through it as though to represent the wind or waves. The bow had five ruby-red drums arranged in a semicircle. The four to the right were all the same size and had an hourglass shape that made me feel like I’d seen them before, though I couldn’t quite place them. The drum to the left was much smaller—a miniversion of the others.

  The sides of the boat rose up to hip level and had pillows, blankets, and boxes—that I assumed contained supplies—all neatly arranged and tied down with strong cords. We seemed to be well stocked for our adventure.

  As Jo flitted aboard—how cool would it be to have wings?—I moved to the stern to investigate the strange contraption sticking up where a fan would be if this were a normal marsh airboat. A wooden capital T stood up and out of the deck. The top of the T had six chimes on either side—twelve total. They had a pearly sheen and stayed unnaturally still despite the breeze stirring the air and the general rocking of the boat.

  I reached out to flick one of the chimes, just to see what would happen.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Jo, stopping my hand.

  “Oh, let her experiment,” said Hanna.

  “And have her tip us over? Bad idea. Really bad. This mission must be a success. Don’t risk everything in the first five minutes, Hanna.”

  “Um, guys, I’m standing right here,” I said, giving a little wave. Their sisterly bickering made me feel like an outsider. I touched the crescent moon shell and felt a wave of now-familiar longing for Tan wash over me.

  “Sorry, Lilu,” said Hanna, sticking her tongue out at her sister. “Jo acts like she has a rip in her wing over the stupidest stuff. Have you ever been in a ba-dum boat before?”

  “No, I’ve never been in anything like this. Where’s the motor? Why are there drums and chimes?” I asked.

  Hanna pulled out two pillows from the starboard side and settled gracefully onto one in front of the drums. She flicked her long braids so that they spread out behind her and then patted the pillow beside her. “Sit down and find out. You’re in for the ride of your life!” She laughed.

  I plunked myself down onto the pillow and watched as Hanna began tapping out a slow, steady beat on the drums. The boat shuddered and then sprang to life. I could feel it waking up around me, as though Hanna were tapping out its heartbeat and raising it from the dead. I leaned my head over the side of the boat and gasped. The boat was two feet off the water! We were hovering in the air.

  “Ready, Jo?” Hanna called back over her shoulder.

  “Ready!”

  Hanna gave me a wink. “Here we go!” she sang out.

  She beat the drums in a stronger, faster rhythm. The boat responded to the new beat and glided forward across the moonlit marsh.

  A memory tickled the back of my brain. What was that sound?

  The rhythm was so steady, peaceful. The calm before the storm.

  Except inside me, a storm was already raging. How was I going to do this without Tandy by my side? What kinds of creatures were living out here in this marsh? The whole mission seemed so strange. So impossible.

  Clasping the seashell, I shut my eyes to the wind. My heart thumped to the rhythm of the mysterious beat. Tandy! Tandy! Costago! Costago!

  Chill, Lilu. Why do you need my help?

  She sounded so far away. I didn’t just want her voice in my ear. I needed her with me. Tan! I can’t even begin to tell you all that is going on, but right now I’m flying through a dark marsh on some sort of magical airboat—

  She yawned. YAWNED! I was possibly about to encounter the Creature from the Black Lagoon or Swamp Thing o
r worse, and my impending death was boring my sister.

  Hanna noticed me touching the crescent moon shell. She sighed and beat faster on the drums.

  I’m not sure why Hanna was upset with me. Isn’t it normal for twins to want to consult each other? Be there for each other? Her sister was here, and mine was in another world—who was she to judge? She wasn’t looking, so I quickly stuck my tongue out at her, just to feel better.

  Little LeeLee, listen, I’m really trying to get some rest. You’ll be fine. Just turn down the music.

  What music?

  Stop messing with me, Lilu. I can hear it. That schnick-schnick-schnick in the background. It’s the djembe drums. Same as Nan-Nan taught us. Well, tried to teach us. You were always too embarrassed to play. Anyway, she said the tune was passed down from her great-grandmama so-and-so. Turn that off and concentrate. You’ll be fine. Just fine …

  Before she could say anything else, I’d lost the connection. I sure hoped this seashell would start to get better service than the el cheapo cell phones Mom had bought us.

  Then what Tandy had said clicked. That’s where I’d heard it before!

  The familiar rhythm powering the boat was the same beat our grandmother taught us long ago. I blew out a long sigh and let the tense muscles in my neck, back, and legs relax.

  An image fluttered into my head, one I hadn’t thought of in years. The four of us—Nan-Nan, Mom, Aunt Mary, and Tandy—sitting together on Nan-Nan’s back porch. We’re talking and laughing, and Nan-Nan is about to begin a story. Nan-Nan, Mom, and Aunt Mary used to tell us these really cool folktales that dated back to our ancestors in Africa. They talked about the rhythm of life and our unique connection with the elements. Nan-Nan used to say, “Everyone has a road to walk in this life. The trick, my babies, is knowing when to stay on the road and knowing when to make a new one.”