Kerka's Book (18 page)

I remembered what Aunt Tuula had told me. It was possible—but unproven—that the destinies of Pax Lineage families and elves were intertwined. “Are you and your brothers affected by everything my sisters and I do?”

“Yes!” He rolled his eyes. “I live on Yearling, and the elf in the ice lives on Hourling. We were yanked away when you three stopped talking to each other, and we're stuck here until you patch things up. But it's taken you
forever!”

“We're back together now,” Rona said. “So leave. What's stopping you?”

“I need my message.” The stubborn little man scowled and tapped his foot.

I looked him in the eye. “I'll give you the message after you tell us how to get home.”

The elf stamped his foot in a brief display of temper. Then, resigned to being outsmarted, he pointed at me. “You have the power. Now deliver the message.”

I hesitated, wondering if I had understood him correctly. I decided his words could only mean one thing, so I gave him the message. “Your brother told me to tell you, ‘If the wind goes free, so will we.'”

“Finally!” He left in a flash of green and red, moving too fast for my human eyes to follow him. I
thought I heard the faraway sound of his brothers laughing.

“What power did he mean, Kerka?” Rona leaned forward to peek over the edge of the drop-off and stepped back.

“It has to be the power of the wind,” I said. “We can fly off the mountain. We'll either land somewhere in Aventurine or we'll wake up.”

“Are we going to ride the wind again?” Biba jumped up and down and clasped her hands. “Please, please, please.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You said you never wanted to ride the wind again, ever.”

“That was before I flew to catch you,” Biba said, holding out her hand. “It's not scary at all. It's fun!”

Rona didn't look convinced, but she trusted me. “I hope you know what you're doing,” she said when she took Biba's other hand.

“Me too!” I laughed as I swept my Kalis stick across the sky. The ribbon wind wrapped itself around us, and we sailed off Dayling Mountain into the morning sky.

Epilogue

I woke up on the sofa in Aunt Tuula's living room. She had left a lamp turned on, and I stared at the ceiling, remembering swooping through the air. Rona and Biba had laughed when we glided past an eagle's nest where a mother bird was feeding her young. My sisters had shrieked in protest when I flew under a stone bridge, and they tensed when we skimmed the ground. Biba and Rona had disappeared while we were circling a meadow of wildflowers—and then I woke up.

Throwing off the blanket, I reached for my Kalis stick. It was under the throw pillow, where I had left it. It looked longer, but I wanted to be sure. I was still wearing socks, and they made no noise on the hardwood floor as I ran.

I turned the light on in my bedroom. My
backpack and the spotted white fur cape were on my bed, as if the fairies had brought them separately. My backpack felt heavy when I went to hang it on the proper hook in my closet. I looked inside, hoping the fairies had left me some water pods. But it was just my schoolbooks. I folded the faux snow leopard cape and put it in a drawer. Then I found a ruler in my desk drawer and held it up to my Kalis stick. It measured fifteen inches, three inches longer than it had measured when I fell asleep.

I slipped my Kalis stick under my pillow and glanced at the clock as I climbed into bed.

It was 2:07 a.m. Saturday. I was thirteen and a true fairy-godmother-in-the-making.

I woke up again around eight and changed out of my sweater and jeans into a turtleneck and comfy sweats. Grabbing my Kalis stick, I leapt out my bedroom door and spun in circles down the hall. I stopped by the container of rain sticks and waved my Kalis stick at the wind chimes across the room. The tinkling ring was drowned out by the clang of pots in the kitchen, and I heard Rona laugh.

“Then Biba puffed up and said, ‘I already climbed
this
mountain!'” Rona mimicked Biba's voice.

“Biba talked back to Queen Mangi?” Aunt Tuula chuckled. “The Kalistonia Fairies will have their hands full with our little one, won't they?”

“Actually, I think Queen Mangi liked Biba's attitude,” Rona said. “I hope my dreams take me to Aventurine soon. I can't wait to see the fairy caves.”

“What was it like being a wolf?” Aunt Tuula asked.

“Awesome,” Rona said. “I learned everything I need to know for our production of
Peter and the Wolf
. They don't usually cast a girl to dance the wolf, you know.”

“I know,” Aunt Tuula said.

I hurried into the kitchen to join them. Rona was seated at the island, and Aunt Tuula was cooking. “There's the birthday girl!” Aunt Tuula's face was smudged with flour. “We're having blueberry pancakes with strawberry syrup and sweet sausages.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I said as I hopped up on the stool beside Rona. “I'm famished.”

“I'm not surprised, after all that gallivanting around Aventurine,” Aunt Tuula said, spooning pancake batter onto a hot griddle. “Did you have fun?”

“It was fun and cold and scary and so much happened I don't know where to start.” I put my Kalis stick down and took a tangerine out of a bowl.

“You have all weekend to tell me.” Aunt Tuula poured tea into a cup and handed it to me. “Right now, we have some other very serious business to take care of.”

My hand froze on the sugar spoon. Serious usually meant trouble. “What?”

“Birthday presents!” Aunt Tuula reached under the counter and pulled out a box wrapped in lavender paper with a bright red bow. “I'm baking a cherry-chocolate cake later, but you don't have to wait. You can open it now.”

I finished adding sugar and cream to my tea. Then, ever so carefully, I slipped off the red ribbon and peeled away the tape.

“It's just paper, Kerka!” Rona teased. “Hurry up. The suspense is awful.”

“Okay, okay.” I liked to make the suspense last, but it was so nice to have my sister back, I ripped the paper. Aunt Tuula's gift was an enameled box with an image of the fairy cave on the lid. “Oh, Aunt Tuula! It's beautiful.”

“It's a keepsake box, but there's more. Look inside.” Aunt Tuula quickly flipped the pancakes, then turned back to watch as I raised the hinged lid.

What looked like a pile of wood and metal rested on the green felt that lined the inside of the
box. I hooked my finger on a metal ring and lifted it up. The ring was part of a chain that was attached to a thatched canopy. A ceramic elf dressed exactly like the Dayling beach brother stood on a circle of wood under the thatched roof. Silver tubes dangled from the circle.

“It's an elf wind chime!” I exclaimed. “I love it!”

“When I saw it in the shop window I couldn't resist.” Aunt Tuula beamed. “Something told me that was
your
elf. I didn't expect you to find out that Pax Lineage families and elves really are connected.”

“We are, but I can't prove it,” I pointed out.

“I believe you.” Aunt Tuula scooped the pancakes off the griddle, putting two on each plate.

“I have something for you, too.” Rona handed me a card and watched while I opened the flap. There were three tickets inside.

“Are these for the opening night of your ballet?” I asked, hoping I looked as pleased as I felt.

“For you, Aunt Tuula, and a friend,” Rona said. “Maybe Birdie Bright would like to go. Those aren't ordinary tickets. They're backstage passes.”

“Super!” I threw my arms around Rona's neck and hugged her. “I bet you'll be the best wolf ever.”

Aunt Tuula added two sausages to the pancakes and set the breakfast plates in front of us. After a
playful tussle over the syrup, Rona and I took turns talking between bites. By the time we finished eating, we had covered all the high points of our adventure.

“Well, you girls are certainly off to a good start with your fairy godmother training.” Aunt Tuula poured more tea.

“There's a whole lot more to being a good fairy godmother than I realized,” Rona said.

“I'll say!” I reached for another tangerine.

When the phone rang, Aunt Tuula answered it. She listened a moment, then held the receiver out to me. “It's your father, Kerka.”

I set my half-peeled tangerine aside and wiped the juice off my fingers with a napkin. My hand shook a little when I took the phone. As much as I loved Aunt Tuula and New York, I missed the rest of my family back in Finland. “Hi, Dad!”

He wished me a happy birthday and asked how I was doing. He sounded happier, as though the weight of sadness and worry had been lifted off him, too. After he gave me a quick report on my old soccer team, he said, “I have a surprise for you.”

There were some muffled thumps, then —

“Hi, snow leopard,” Biba said in Finnish.

“I'm so happy to hear your voice, Biba!” I said, a huge smile on my face. I was also happy that Biba
remembered our Aventurine journey. “How are you?”

“I'm hungry!” Biba laughed.

“You're
always
hungry!” I joked, laughing with her.

The rest of the weekend alternated between Kalis dancing and lazy lounging. Rona was totally committed to mastering the Climb the Sky step, and she wanted my help. As soon as she returned from ballet rehearsal, we practiced until we were too tired to walk. Then we watched a movie; ate some of Aunt Tuula's fantastic cheese, tomato, and cauliflower casserole; slept; and started all over again on Sunday. By Monday morning, I was glad I had to go to school. I couldn't wait to tell Birdie in person about my mission in Aventurine, and my aching muscles needed a rest.

It was still cold in New York, and a brisk breeze blew through the concrete canyons. I loved exhaling frosty breath and hearing the crackling sound of salt and ice under my boots as I walked toward the Girls' International School of Manhattan. I now felt as free on the city streets as I had on the top of Dayling Mountain.

An elderly couple strolled arm in arm ahead of me. I didn't try to pass them on the narrow stretch
of sidewalk, but slowed my pace instead. I had plenty of time, and I didn't want to be rude. Besides, I was enjoying the city with the interest of a fairy-godmother-to-be. On this particular morning, as though celebrating my success, all seemed right in the world.

“Oh dear!” the elderly woman cried out when her husband's hat blew off his head. “There goes your favorite cap.”

The old man hobbled after the hat, but he couldn't catch it. He stopped at the curb, too breathless to chase the hat into the street.

The hat tumbled down the center of the busy street toward the oncoming traffic. With a wave of my hand, I asked the wind to catch the hat just before a cab rolled over it. Then, snapping like a whip, the wind flipped the hat back toward its owner. The old man grabbed it.

“How did you do that?” his wife asked, amazed.

“Don't know, but I got my cap back.” He took her arm again. “And now I'm really ready for bagels and coffee.”

My first waking-world good deed was a simple task that had touched only two lives, but the gesture made me feel like a real fairy godmother. It felt good.

• • •

Birdie was waiting for me by the front door of GIS. She was all smiles and bouncing on the balls of her feet. She obviously had something huge that she wanted to tell me. I was sure my stories about Aventurine were bigger and better, but Birdie didn't give me a chance to even say hello. She greeted me with a loud “Happy birthday!” Then she shoved a chocolate cupcake with a pink candle in my face.

“For me?” I took the cupcake and licked the frosting. “Wow. That tastes really good.”

“That's just a tease,” Birdie said, jiggling with excitement. “You'll never guess who I just found.”

I thought about it for a second. “I give up,” I said. “Who?”

Birdie gave a wide grin with her braces showing. “Zally the magic mapmaker, that's who!”

Acknowledgments