"Tinkerbell, are you certain?"
"Yes!" The tinker turned to look at the concerned queen, still unable to take her eyes off the mysterious arrival. "That's exactly what humans say."
"That is certainly odd."
"I would say she's a human, but what type of human is exactly our―"
Fairy Godmother narrowed her eyes, watching the little green dress point at her again, to a flurry of jingles.
"She is definitely a fairy," Queen Clarion said, raising a hand to signal to Tinkerbell to calm herself. "But her claim suggests otherwise, which is where your mischief comes in handy. You have the most experience of us all with humans. Tinkerbell, I want you to monitor this woman. Don't let her near Pixie Hollow until she proves herself."
Fairy Godmother watched the little green dress curtsy to Goldie.
"Only then will I help her find her talent."
Fairy Godmother waited until three of the fairies took to the sky, leaving her alone with the little green dress. "Given the shock with which you observed me before, I have to assume you can hear me."
Tinkerbell turned back to face her, nodding politely.
"I am not fond of this," she said calmly, and turned to her bed...only to find a Twinkie sitting in the grass. "And I'm really not fond of that!" she declared.
The fairy shrugged, grabbing her by the hand like they were pals and flying into the air. They hovered for a moment, as Tinkerbell openly surveyed the new arrival's fancy red dress with a look of bewilderment, then she began pulling Fairy Godmother along again.
"I better get you away from Pixie Hollow," she murmured to herself. "Where can I bring you?"
Her one-sided conversation was halted by Fairy Godmother's question. "Alright, kiddo, level with me. You're under some kind of spell or something, aren't you?"
A jingle was her only response, as the little green dress turned in the air to give her a puzzled glance. Her lips silently formed the words, "A spell?"
Tinkerbell's confused eyes roamed past her, and suddenly she panicked and darted away, as the sky opened up and rain began chasing her like a hawk. Fairy Godmother didn't much care for her, but she wasn't about to let the only fairy in her sight out of her sight. It wasn't like they were a dime a dozen...and she was very intrigued that she couldn't hear any of them. So she bolted after her, paying no mind to the harmless rain. At least, it was harmless until it caught up to Tinkerbell, who dropped like a fly.
Fairy Godmother angled down, hovering nearby and watching her sit up in what was quickly becoming mud; knowing she could hear her, she asked, "What happened?"
Tinkerbell's wide eyes went up to the fairy, inexplicably flying in the rain. Even weirder, she didn't seem to know it was weird. Still, she flew, getting rained on―and rained on. Moving slowly, Tinkerbell stood up, unable to take her eyes off the fairy, hovering calmly in the downpour. Silently, except for a soft jingle in the rain, her lips seemed to form the words, "You can fly in this?"
Fairy Godmother ignored her words, as they may as well have gone unspoken. Venturing closer to the kid, she studied her with an unpredictable combination of wisdom and rage. "I certainly know from experience that shrinking down from your full stature is jarring. Maybe you hit your head, got a concussion. Are you confused at all... Feeling misplaced?"
The kid fairy wondered for a moment, then took Fairy Godmother's hand again; she pulled her hand free, but willingly followed her, muttering, "If we both knew sign language, we could have brilliant conversations that inspire."
They didn't journey long, shielding their eyes from the rain; Fairy Godmother squinting in a vain effort to focus her vision. Within minutes they reached a tree with what was actually a small narrow space at the bottom of a tree. In her new body, it was quite roomy, and several assorted winged humans were milling around and inside it. Each of them wore one color, and every color in the rainbow appeared, on leafy textures. Or perhaps they were actually wearing leaves, Fairy Godmother thought, and willingly went further into the tree to get a better look, following the green-clad blonde.
"Tink!"
A fairy in an Old Mauve-colored little costume flew down then, looking at the kid fairy in disapproval. They appeared about the same age; maybe the brunette was slightly older. She had a long, poofy ponytail and discriminating gray eyes, whereas the green-clad blonde had a more friendly face.
"Where did you find her? And why are you bringing in strays?"
"Before you tire yourself out trying to insult her, Vidia, she can't hear you."
Vidia watched the grumpy old fairy startle as Clank dropped something directly behind her. As if he, too, could not hear Tinkerbell, he apologized as he retrieved the hunk of wood before going about his business, carrying a load of workshop materials to the corner.
"Well, she's not deaf," Vidia noted, "Which means you have a lot of explaining to do when Queen Clarion gets here."
"Why?" Silvermist asked, coming up behind Vidia.
"Hah, maybe you should use those big, blinky things above your nose, sunshine. Prom Night Pixie here has sharp hearing, but she apparently can't hear us―and if I remember right, that unique blend is human-exclusive. Which means," she repeated in Tinkerbell's direction, "You brought a human to our hideout."
"Hmm..." Silvermist made a face, shaking her head. "She doesn't look human-sized to me."
"That's right! Even when they're babies, they're ginormous compared to us!"
Vidia looked again at the perfectly fairy-sized newcomer, and couldn't argue.
"Besides, Queen Clarion knows all about this. She wants me to keep her away from Pixie Hollow. Actually, she basically ordered me."
"Why would she do that?"
Tinkerbell paused, struggling for words. "Well, because she can't hear us and because she can kind of, sort of... Fly in the rain?"
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, she's a little unique, but..."
"Unique―Tinkerbell, this woman is conning you," Vidia said, flying closer to tap the tinker on her head. "I mean, look at her. She just screams fortune teller."
They looked back at Fairy Godmother, who was standing in the same place as when Vidia had swooped down. Her arms were crossed and she impatiently tapped her fingers.
"Well, I guess we'll find out when she discovers her talent, won't we?"
"You brought her here without having the talent show?"
"She just arrived, Vidia. I was going to look for lost things and she passed out before seeing me. She needs help."
"No, she wants help. She didn't have to see you, sweetie, she heard you."
Tinkerbell considered the annoyingly intelligent fast-flying fairy's words. "Hm. Yeah, maybe you're right."
Vidia turned and flew to Fairy Godmother, giving her a push towards the gap leading outside. Speaking words she couldn't hear. Knowing quite well this plum fairy could hear her, she narrowed her eyes and waved a hand of dismissal. "Ah, I'm going, I'm going, you're all boring me to tears anyhow. I feel like I'm trying to talk to a bunch of monkeys."
Several fairies took offense to that, which mildly intrigued her―they knew what monkeys were? They traveled and had worldly knowledge? She turned and flew out into the rain, falling hard and steady. Thunder growled and she hovered for a moment, battling the urge to go back into the tree. But she felt so vulnerable. Not just without magic, but without the upper body strength to lift something as light as a feather. She wasn't merely inconvenienced...she was pathetic now, too! For a moment she felt a flicker of inspiration as her thoughts turned to her fellow fairies; they had worldly knowledge, which meant they had books, which meant they could lift books, which meant they could lift things. How? She desperately needed to learn how to lift things if she was going to recreate her magic wand. Gosh, all that power and no place to store it. What a travesty! So as much as she despised Little Miss Plum, she had to turn to this group of little winged people, just as struck down by magic as she was. And who knew? Maybe she could help them, too...
Hearing a series of jingles behind her, Fairy Godmother turned back to the hollow base of the tree to see several fairies looking at her; one redhead in a pink-red dress, a fairy with reddish-brown hair in a fantastically long, wavy ponytail, and then the fairies she had already been partially introduced to―the blonde in green, a brunette wearing a long blue dress, Little Miss Plum, and an ebony-skinned fairy dressed in gold, with sparkles in her hair. As she assumed all of these eccentric fairies did, they all jingled as they conversed with one another, studying Fairy Godmother intently.
She landed in front of this little winged army, waiting for their lips to stop silently moving.
"Maybe she has human qualities because she isn't all fairy," Iridessa was proposing.
"What do you mean?" Tinkerbell asked.
"Maybe her talent is something that no one's seen before. Like she can grow to human size, shed her wings, and live with their kind, too."
"That's stupid," Vidia announced.
Their eyes followed Tinkerbell as she stepped out of the shelter, moving closer to Fairy Godmother, then turned back to face them, giving the illusion that they were choosing sides and she had made her decision. "We can guess until sundown, but we won't know anything until the talent show. And if she is one of us, which I assume, based on her size," she added, with a demonstration to their almost-level foreheads, "Then she'll need our help, too."
"Too?" Vidia demanded.
"Any talent is going to help us rebuild, Vidia."
Narrowing her eyes, Vidia pushed her way into the rain. "Alright, but if you try anything," she began, and Fairy Godmother's attention was torn from her instantly-useless wings to her face as she moved up close and personal. "Then I will destroy you, and your family, and your home, and everything precious to you."
Fairy Godmother just kept looking at her with a blank expression.
"See? You could yell in her ear and she wouldn't hear you."
"Don't be fooled, Tinkerbell," Vidia snapped, whirling around. "That proves nothing. Fortune tellers are incredible liars; their profession is built on it."
"What do her height and ability to fly prove?"
"It proves she's a fairy. But just because she's a fairy, doesn't mean we can trust her."
"Believe me, I know. You think anyone trusts you, Vidia?"
"Well, you should. I'm trying to keep you safe, but you're constantly endangering everyone!"
"Guys," Rosetta said, and tittered nervously. "She may not be able to hear your lovers' spat, but the rest of the woods can."
"Don't make me blow you into the sun," Vidia snapped, and stomped back into the tree.
Silvermist looked at Iridessa, speaking into the much-appreciated silence. "Do you really think that could be a talent?"
Iridessa tilted her head, still gazing contemplatively at their new arrival. "If I can make sunlight come out of the ground, I suppose anything's possible... And I can't make any sense of all this any other way."
"Imagine," Fawn murmured, "The kind of power one could have by living among both kinds."
"Yeah, I know," Silvermist said, and then smiled. "Cool!"
"It's scary," Fawn amended.
"What do you think we should do?" Rosetta asked her.
"I think we need to get the Scouts in on this. Now," Fawn added grimly, and she retreated into the depths of the tree, closely followed by Iridessa and Rosetta.
Tinkerbell looked at Silvermist, the only friend who remained. "I need to have her ready for Queen Clarion."
"Then you need to get her out of here."
Tinkerbell sighed and groaned, but captured Fairy Godmother's hand and began walking with her in the rain.
"Another round of Follow The Leader?" Fairy Godmother asked, and shook her head at the predictable silence. "You could have at least doddered your way out here with an umbrella."
"An umbre-whatta?" Tinkerbell asked herself; then, instead of deciding to attempt a conversation, she turned and raised a finger to her lips, silently shushing her―if hiding this person-fairy from the Scouts was necessary, the last thing she needed was both of them drawing attention. Seeing the quiet plea in her eyes, Fairy Godmother decided to do something to which she was rather not accustomed; listen to her. Other people had been struck down by magic, clearly there were dangers she wasn't privy to.
"Lord Milori!"
Bursting out of the shade, Tinkerbell abandoned Fairy Godmother at the border to approach the Lord of Winter; hunkering down behind a flower that seemed to stretch into the sky, Fairy Godmother couldn't tear her eyes off the mysteriously invisible line where the warm season and the cold season touched. On her side, grass sprang up and young flowers were beginning to bud. But just a few hairs over, snowflakes fell... No amount of research could have prepared her for that.
"I need to ask you something kind of... Kind of weird."
"Intriguing. I'm all ears!"
"Okay. Um..." She took a breath, struggling to maintain eye contact. "Are there any Winter Scouts?"
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"Oh," she chuckled and waved a dismissive hand. "Just curious."
She was about to turn away when his grim expression made her halt. He stepped closer to the border, and she impulsively did the same; then he spoke to her in a very quiet and gentle voice, speaking chilling words. "While most believe you mean well, that you are merely...inquisitive, there is also a belief―a fear―that you are shady, Tinkerbell."
"Shady? That's so silly," she tried to laugh.
"Is it? You disregard boundaries, break the rules, and have a temper that even leads to confrontation."
"With all due respect, Lord Milori, I was just asking."
She turned away a second time, and this time it was his words that stopped her. "You also have a tendency to disregard warnings."
"You're giving me a warning?"
Lord Milori raised his hands, but not his voice, as she had. "Please don't make me discuss your tone with the Queen. I don't want trouble to befall you."
"Pardon me. I didn't realize being inquisitive was a bad thing."
Red-faced, she turned and stomped back to where Fairy Godmother crouched, watching the fairy who looked as chilly as the air around him. Kicking a rock as she approached, Tinkerbell knelt and wordlessly insisted that Fairy Godmother follow her once again; from his side of the border, Lord Milori leaned and wished he could fly as he watched Tinkerbell rush from the light, obviously rushing someone else along as well. Or something―which was fine, as long as it didn't think fairies were particularly tasty...
"I can't believe he thinks I'm shady. Me!" Tinkerbell shouted, while pacing inside of her fairy house. Deaf to her words, Fairy Godmother stood still, surveying the tiniest furnishings in the world. Yet they seemed entirely functional, like maybe these fairies weren't so misplaced after all. She went to the table, picking up the world's tiniest cup. In her original form, she could have fit perhaps fifty on her palm. And there, beside it, the world's littlest cookie!
"I'm not the one who convinced me to capture the sprinting thistles, am I? I'm not the one who poisoned everybody with sleepytime gas, or the one who raised a hawk from the dead, or the one who befriended some legendary monster whose name connotated how much he..." Her words ran out and she found herself staring at Fairy Godmother. "Boy, you're really not going to fit in with that on. I'm trying to keep you covered, and you'll be sticking out like a sore wing."
"Yes, if you're quite through rambling, dear, I have a lot on my mind. I'm sure you have a pen and paper somewhere."
Upon retrieving a stack of leaves from her closet, Tinkerbell eyeballed her as she sank to her knees on the floor, swiping the scissors off the table. Fairy Godmother sighed, watching her mouth move a hundred miles an hour. "Long dress, probably self-conscious, that's fine, I can do long. I can do long, no problem, just don't cut. That's fine, it'll be fine, but I've never made a whole dress, just fixed up my old―oh, Zarina! Yeah, she can give you a talent. Even if you don't have one, or Iridessa's right about you, we can make you fit in. We can make you belong. The Scouts don't have to know, right?!"
Fairy Godmother had dabbled in lip-reading, and she only understood the final word. She shrugged and murmured, "Right."
Tinkerbell looked up at her. "Lip-reading?" she asked, and Fairy Godmother nodded. "All you have to do is stay in here until I work it out with her. It'll just be for a little bit. She spends almost all of her time in the Dust Depot. Kind of like before, but with an...alchemic twist."
"Right, I'm not great at it, though, so don't expect me to carry on a conversation."
"Oh. Um..."
Seeing her flounder, distracted from her project, Fairy Godmother hunted down a pen and paper and held it out to her. Tinkerbell wrote down her message and turned it around so she could see.
"Stay here? Why?"
More scribbling.
"The queen? You know the queen?"
Who doesn't know the queen?
Fairy Godmother pushed the notebook out of the way, letting them both see only each other. "Listen to me; it is absolutely crucial you take me to the kingdom. Her husband has put a curse on my life!"
She's not married.
"Yes, she is," Fairy Godmother insisted, "And they have a daughter."
Tinkerbell studied her for a moment, thinking for sure she'd hit her head on a branch, then wrote, You need to dress regular. Fairy Godmother barely had time to read it before she had thrown it atop the table and knelt to continue working.
Fairy Godmother sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting down. It all felt so normal, so perfectly life-sized, until she remembered being half the size of a flower, or being capable all of a sudden to sit on somebody's ear. If she ignored that part, it was like she and the green dress were normal. Well, wings aside, but it was truly the way everybody should be. Though she surmised if everybody could be, it would be bad for business; hence choosing who deserved it, deadlines and such.
Turning her head, Fairy Godmother saw a blonde boy, with the peculiar fashion sense to wear an acorn like a hat, coming up the steps. Speaking of deadlines... She jumped up and closed the curtains, effectively getting Tinkerbell's attention. And his as well―he stopped, watching the curtains slide shut. Having not seen him, Tinkerbell didn't know it was someone kind of special to her; she locked the door, unaware that he had pressed his ear to the other side and heard her lock herself inside. Ignoring his knocks, she grabbed Fairy Godmother and pushed her down the hall to find a place to hide.
When his knuckles were beginning to hurt, Terence sighed and shifted his weight onto the other foot. "Tink, I'm... I'm not leaving until you open the door. Just talk to me, okay? Tell me why you went up against the Lord of Winter!"
The door opened and she gave him a big smile. "Is that how he sees it? I call it a conversation, but to each their own."
His eyes roamed past her shoulder to the dark lump of folds on the floor. "You're packing."
"Nope. I'm not."
"Disregarding boundaries, breaking the rules...lying to me? Tink, I see your clothes! You're busting out of here like when you broke the moonstone."
"Hey, that never would've happened if you hadn't―" She stopped mid-yell, struggling to bring her voice under control, even if her temper was beyond hope. "I don't have time for this," she finally said, her voice deceptively quiet. "Because I'm actually doing something important."
She shut the door in his stunned face, and he heard it lock again. This time when he pounded on the door, it yielded no results. He turned away with a sigh, but found himself climbing the flower at the front of her house. Sitting on top, he stared at the lump on her floor, watching her hurry to it and gather it up in her arms. Overlooking Terence, she carried it into shadows.
"Oh, Tink," he sighed. "What are you doing now?"
A wind came along and bent the flower, already laden with an unbalanced weight. His eyes widened and he yelped as he toppled off.