Fira and the Full Moon

  Copyright © 2006 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011-5690.

  ISBN: 978-1-4231-5829-5

  Visit disneyfairies.com

  Table of Contents

  All About Fairies

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

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  9

  10

  IF YOU HEAD toward the second star on your right and fly straight on till morning, you’ll come to Never Land, a magical island where mermaids play and children never grow up.

  When you arrive, you might hear something like the tinkling of little bells. Follow that sound and you’ll find Pixie Hollow, the secret heart of Never Land.

  A great old maple tree grows in Pixie Hollow, and in it live hundreds of fairies and sparrow men. Some of them can do water magic, others can fly like the wind, and still others can speak to animals. You see, Pixie Hollow is the Never fairies’ kingdom, and each fairy who lives there has a special, extraordinary talent.

  Not far from the Home Tree, nestled in the branches of a hawthorn, is Mother Dove, the most magical creature of all. She sits on her egg, watching over the fairies, who in turn watch over her. For as long as Mother Dove’s egg stays well and whole, no one in Never Land will ever grow old.

  Once, Mother Dove’s egg was broken. But we are not telling the story of the egg here. Now it is time for Fira’s tale.…

  FIRA STUMBLED UP THE STAIRS to her bedroom in the Home Tree. Her wings dragged on the ground. Her fairy glow had dimmed to a faint glimmer.

  Fira was a light-talent fairy. Usually, she glowed especially brightly. But that day she felt too tired to use extra light energy. She felt too tired to fly. Too tired to do anything.

  She yawned and stretched her arms wide. Fira had been working hard lately. All the light-talent fairies had. It was a busy time of year. The bushes and plants in Pixie Hollow were bursting with berries and seeds. Harvest-talent fairies worked late into the night, gathering the plentiful crops. So the light-talent fairies’ special glows were needed more than ever.

  There were celebrations and festivals, where light talents put on dazzling light shows and performed shadow-puppet plays. And long after the sun had set each day, Fira and her friends helped light the orchards and gardens as the harvest-talent fairies worked.

  Just that day, the fairies had finished the harvesting. Overflowing baskets filled the Home Tree kitchen and pantry. The work was done. Now Fira was looking forward to a long nap.

  Finally, Fira reached her room. Kicking off her petal shoes, she flopped facedown on her bed.

  The late-afternoon sunlight shone through Fira’s bedroom window. Even though she was ready to sleep—more than ready, Fira thought—she didn’t close her pine-needle blinds. A light-talent fairy always liked to have a little sunshine brightening a room.

  Fira slipped under her dandelion-fluff blanket. All around Pixie Hollow, she knew, Never fairies were working and playing. Cooking-talent fairies prepared the evening meal in the Home Tree kitchen. Art-talent fairies painted and sculpted in their studios. Wing-washing talents cleaned fairies’ wings. Fairies milked the dairy mice in the dairy barn and herded caterpillars in the field.

  Not me, Fira thought. I’m not doing anything.

  She closed her eyes. Before she had another thought, she fell fast asleep.

  Knock! Knock!

  Fira flew out of bed, bumping her head on the ceiling.

  “What?” she cried. “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry, Fira.” Spring, a message-talent fairy, poked her head through the open window. “I didn’t know you were sleeping. You’re needed at the Firefly Thicket.”

  Fira sat down on her bed. “What’s going on?” she asked sleepily.

  “I’m not sure. But there’s some sort of firefly trouble.”

  Spring gave an apologetic wave and took off.

  “Firefly trouble,” Fira repeated. That didn’t sound good.

  Each night, a group of specially trained fireflies flew around Pixie Hollow. They landed on tiny torches, giving light to the fairies and sparrow men.

  These fireflies were Fira’s responsibility. She took pride in training them, and training them well. She liked being in charge. But just this once, maybe, she could ask Luna or Iridessa to take over. It would be so nice to keep sleeping.

  No, no, no. Fira shook her head. If you want something done right, you should do it yourself, she thought. Not that she didn’t trust her friends. Of course she did. But still…

  She sighed. If only she could rest a little while longer. Light-talent fairies’ glows were weakest when they were tired. Fira hated when her glow was dim. She liked to light up a room. Maybe her short nap had been enough. She stood and gathered her strength.

  Then she flew out into the afternoon.

  Fira slowed as she got close to Havendish Stream. The Firefly Thicket was in a dense, leafy spot along the far bank. Fira darted around a clump of bushes. Then she spied the entrance, a wide opening in the branches.

  “Hello?” she called softly. She ducked her head inside. It was always dark back there. That was why the fireflies liked it.

  “Moth!”

  Moth was Fira’s nickname. Other fairies joked that she loved light like a moth loved a candle flame.

  “Over here, Moth.” Beck, a friend of Fira’s, waved her over. Beck was an animal-talent fairy. She could communicate with all the animals in Never Land.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Fira,” said Elixa, a healing-talent fairy. “You need to know what’s going on.”

  Fira gazed around. The fireflies rested fitfully on branches. Their lights flickered dimly. Some didn’t light at all.

  Beck patted the wings of one firefly. Elixa placed a leaf compress on another.

  “They have the no-fire flu,” Elixa explained. “They won’t be able to light Pixie Hollow tonight.”

  Fira groaned. It was almost dusk. Already the light-talent fairies would be hanging glowworm lanterns. But the lanterns were only decoration. The fireflies did the real work of lighting Pixie Hollow. This was trouble, indeed.

  Beck went to her side. “I know you’re tired from all the harvesting,” she said quietly, trying not to disturb the fireflies. “But is there anything you can do?”

  Fira straightened her wings. “Of course there’s something I can do!”

  She would organize all the light-talent fairies. They would need to light the places fireflies usually brightened: gardens, groves, busy sky routes. And the next night a full moon would be out, which meant there would be a dance in the fairy circle. The light-talent fairies would have to light that, too. There was so much work! She had to get going!

  With a quick wave good-bye, Fira set off once again. Her mind raced with details. Which fairies would light the fairy-dust mill? Which ones would cover the forest? And who would light the fairy circle?

  It was a lot to ask of fairies who were already tired. It will be all right, Fira told herself. We can manage for now. But what if the fireflies are still sick tomorrow?

  FIRA DID DOUBLE DUTY that night. She directed light-talent fairies to all corners of the Home Tree. She guided others to locations around Pixie Hollow: the dairy barn, the fairy-dust mill, and the fairy circle, where celebration-setup fairies were preparing for the Fairy Dance.

  Th
e next day, Fira slept until midafternoon.

  “I can’t remember ever sleeping so late!” she said out loud. Usually, she woke with the dawning sun. “But I worked so hard last night. I must have been exhausted,” she added.

  Fira felt a little dazed. Maybe some food will help, she thought. I hope there are some leftovers from lunch. She was ravenous!

  A few minutes later, she flew into the tearoom. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows. Just looking at the sunshine made Fira feel better. She stood for a moment in a bright spot, drawing strength from a sunbeam.

  The large room was empty of fairies. Dining tables stood bare, without any food in sight.

  “Looks like I’ll have to wait for dinner.” Fira sighed. She hadn’t had anything to eat since dinner the night before. Maybe I’ll just sit right here, she thought. No use leaving and coming back.

  Then she smiled. One by one, other light-talent fairies straggled into the tearoom. They walked slowly, rubbing their eyes.

  A cooking-talent fairy stuck her head out the kitchen door. “They’re here!” she announced. “The light-talent fairies are here!” Serving-talent fairies hurried out, carrying trays of steaming hot acorn soup and poppy puff rolls.

  “They’ve been waiting for us!” Luna said. She sat next to Fira. “How nice!”

  At a nearby table, Iridessa yawned. Then her mouth stretched into a grin. She sipped the soup happily. “I’m really waking up now!” she exclaimed.

  “Me too,” Fira agreed. She took a bite of a roll. “Thank you!” she called to the cooking- and serving-talent fairies.

  Fira looked around at the other light-talent fairies. They were perking up but still seemed tired. The night before had taken its toll.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Luna groaned. “I just woke up. Can’t we relax for an hour?”

  Fira shook her head. “There’s too much work to do.” She counted on her fingers. “We have to check on the fireflies. We have to figure out new lighting spots. Havendish Stream was much too dark last night. But I have another plan.”

  “I have a headache just thinking about doing it all again!” Iridessa put in.

  “I know it’s hard,” Fira admitted, “but—”

  “Everyone!” Spring, the message-talent fairy, darted into the tearoom. “A laugh is coming. It’s almost here!”

  A laugh! Fira drew a quick breath. She knew what Spring meant. Everyone did. A baby Clumsy—a human baby—had laughed for the very first time. And the laugh was so strong, so magical, it was coming to Never Land, where it would become a Never fairy.

  “There’s going to be an arrival!” Luna cried.

  Fira couldn’t hold in her excitement.

  She jumped up quickly. An arrival!

  And what if the arrival was a light-talent fairy? Another fairy to help light Pixie Hollow! Fira hardly dared to hope. It would be so wonderful.

  Of course, there were so many talents. So many fairy groups deserved to have another member. What were the chances?

  “Do you know where it’s going to land?” she asked Spring.

  “In the orchard!” the messenger said over her shoulder. She was already flying off to deliver the news elsewhere.

  Fira grabbed Luna’s and Iridessa’s hands. “Let’s go!”

  AS THE THREE LIGHT-TALENT fairies flew to the orchard, they were joined by more and more fairies. Beck drew up beside Fira. “Moth, have you heard? This laugh is supposed to be special.”

  “Aren’t they all special?” Vidia said snidely. She was always poking her wings into other fairies’ business, trying to stir up trouble.

  Beck blushed. “Of course.”

  Prilla appeared beside them, grinning widely. Prilla had an unusual talent. In the blink of an eye, she could travel to the mainland, the world of Clumsies. Fira had seen her do it. She’d get a strange, glassy-eyed look and wouldn’t seem to see anything or anyone. Then, all at once, she’d snap back to Pixie Hollow, with tales of the children she had just visited.

  “I just saw this baby!” Prilla told the other fairies. “It’s the jolliest Clumsy, so happy and always smiling. Everyone’s been waiting for her to laugh. She’s been saving it, though, for weeks and weeks. But she finally did it! She laughed! It’s sure to be something extraordinary!”

  “Hmmm,” said Vidia as the fairies landed in the orchard. “Then the new arrival must be a fast-flying fairy. Everyone knows we have the most extraordinary talent.”

  “With you being the most extraordinary of all?” Fira retorted. Oops! She bit her lip. That snippy comment had just slipped out. Fira usually tried to think before she spoke. She tried not to say or do things in such a hurry that they came out wrong. But it wasn’t always easy.

  Dozens of fairies and sparrow men hovered eagerly in the orchard. Fira waved to Tinker Bell, a pots-and-pans-talent fairy; to Lily, a garden-talent fairy; and to Orren, a mining-talent sparrow man.

  It seemed as if every talent had come.

  And each fairy hoped that this new arrival would belong to his or her talent group.

  Then, suddenly, they all felt it: a slight shifting of the air. Everyone stopped. A wavery shimmer floated above their heads.

  A murmur went through the crowd. “The laugh! The laugh!”

  The laugh hung above the leafy tree branches for a moment. Then it flew down and settled on the soft green grass.

  The shimmer burst apart. And there, before them, sat the arrival.

  She rose to her feet, quick and sure. The leftover shimmer of laughter fell around her. It turned into her arrival garment, a soft-as-mist dress.

  Fira squeezed Luna’s hand tightly. This was it! The arrival was going to make her Announcement. She would tell everyone her talent.

  “I’m a light-talent fairy.” The young fairy spoke loudly and clearly. “My name is Sparkle.”

  A sigh went through the crowd. Fira hugged Luna and Iridessa. A new light-talent fairy! What luck!

  “Fira! Look!” Luna said urgently.

  There, above their heads, a second shimmery light hovered in the air.

  “Two arrivals!” Fira gasped. She turned to Prilla. “Are they from the same laugh?”

  Prilla nodded. “I told you this laugh was amazing.”

  All around Prilla, fairies and sparrow men whispered excitedly.

  The laugh broke apart, and a sparrow man stood before them. He had long golden curls, just like his sister, Sparkle. “My talent is light,” he announced. He smoothed a stray hair back into place.

  “And my name is Helios,” he added.

  Two light talents! Fira clapped her hands with joy. This was double the luck!

  Vidia shook her head. “I’m so happy for you, light-talent fairies,” she said. “You need all the help you can get.”

  Prilla nudged Fira, her eyes shining with wonder. “Look over there!”

  Fira gazed into the distance. Then she saw it. A brightening. A soft twinkle. The air pulsed with energy.

  Prilla laughed out loud.

  Fira thought, It can’t be!

  But it was. The crowd of fairies and sparrow men stood in stunned silence as the laugh exploded in a shower of light. In its place, a young fairy sprawled on the ground. She stretched her wings in an awkward way, knocking into Vidia, who had leaned in for a better look.

  “Watch it!” said Vidia, jumping back.

  Fira chuckled.

  But then the new fairy found her footing and rose. “My name is Glory,” she said.

  Fira held her breath.

  “I am a light-talent fairy!” Glory told them.

  A cheer rose through the crowd. Luna and Iridessa danced with joy. Fira stood for a moment, not moving. Three arrivals, all light talents. This was truly unheard of.

  Vidia flapped her wings and took off. “Three young fairies to train,” she called out to Fira. “Triplets! I don’t envy you one bit.”

  Fira laughed. She didn’t bel
ieve that for a second.

  The triplets stood close together. They gazed around, taking in everything.

  “Just look at them!” Fira told her friends. “They’re so well behaved.”

  They weren’t trying to fly before they were able. They weren’t testing their new wings.

  Fira remembered her own arrival. She hadn’t been able to stop spinning around and around, fluttering her wings. She kept trying to get off the ground before she even had her magic.

  Terence, a dust-talent sparrow man, flew over to the triplets. He sprinkled a teacup of fairy dust on each one.

  That will do it, thought Fira. They have their magic now!

  The triplets began to glow lemon yellow, edged with gold.

  “Their glows are very bright,” Prilla said.

  “And strong, too,” added Beck. It was good fairy manners to compliment the new arrivals.

  Still, the young fairies didn’t move. The crowd whispered, growing nervous. But Fira grinned. They were taking their time, being careful with their magic. Good for them, she thought. They were thinking things through.

  Then, with a whoop, the three fairies shot high into the air. Everyone cheered.

  The triplets zipped. They zoomed. They somersaulted and cartwheeled.

  The cheers faded as the triplets flew faster and faster, chasing each other. “I’m flying here. You go over there!” Sparkle ordered the other two.

  She darted into the leaves of a goldenrod plant. “But, Sparkle!” Helios followed her. “I want to play in the flowers, too. See how they match my hair?”

  Glory trailed behind, her flying bumpy and uneven. Helios and Sparkle laughed. “Look at the baby. She can’t keep up!” they teased.

  Glory burst into tears. She wailed so loudly, Beck clapped her hands over her ears.

  Then all three fairies were pushing and bumping one another, yelling as loudly as they could.

  “What a racket!” said Prilla.

  “Uh-oh,” Fira murmured.

  The triplets were out of control.

  The crowd of fairies and sparrow men broke up. Some went over to Fira and the other light-talent fairies. They shook their heads with pity and patted them on the back. A few said, “Congratulations.” But Fira thought they really meant “Good luck.”