Rosetta frowned at the scarf. “How can I fly wearing a blindfold?” she asked. “I’ll run into a tree!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll lead you.” Fawn tied the scarf over Rosetta’s eyes. “Can you see?” she asked.
“Nothing but darkness,” Rosetta replied.
“Perfect!” Fawn giggled. Tugging on Rosetta’s hand, she pulled her through the Home Tree and out into the center of Pixie Hollow. Fawn was very careful to watch out for Rosetta. “A little to the left,” she said as Rosetta neared a tall sunflower. “Now dip downward a bit,” she said when they flew under a branch.
At first, Rosetta didn’t like being blindfolded at all. But Fawn led her safely around obstacles, and she began to relax. Soon she found that she could use her other senses to guess where they were going.
She felt the sun on her face. That meant they were headed east. Then she smelled the sweet scent of freshly baked poppy puff rolls. Maybe we’re going to gather poppies for the bakers! she thought.
“Are we going to the kitchen?” Rosetta asked hopefully.
“Flying past it,” Fawn said.
Rosetta’s nose began to twitch again. “I smell roses!” she cried happily. Roses were, of course, her favorite flowers. “Are we going to my garden for a game of butterfly tag?”
“We won’t be too far away from your garden,” Fawn answered playfully, pulling Rosetta along, “but that’s not where we’re going.”
After a while, Rosetta heard the bubbling of rushing water. That could only mean one thing. “Are we going to spend the day at Havendish Stream?”
“You’ve guessed it!” Fawn cried. She led Rosetta to a seat on the bank.
“Oh, what fun!” Rosetta clapped her hands. She pictured herself floating along on a leaf boat, enjoying the sun as Fawn pointed out the pretty fish that swam below. Of course! That was something they would both enjoy. “Fawn, you’re brilliant! You’re absolutely—”
Rosetta’s words stuck in her throat when Fawn pulled away her blindfold.
Sitting in the water at the bank of the stream were two enormous green bullfrogs. Both were wearing harnesses made of bark rope.
“Ribbit!” one of them said.
“We’re going frog-riding!” Fawn said with a whoop.
Frog-riding? “I thought you said we weren’t going to do anything gross!” Rosetta wailed.
“What’s gross about frogs?” Fawn asked. “They spend most of their time in the water. They’re very clean!”
One of the frogs seemed to agree. “Ribbit!”
Rosetta stared at her friend. Fawn was completely serious. She believed that frog-riding was a fun, nongross activity. Fawn’s eyes were shining, and her cheeks were pink with excitement. I can’t refuse to go, Rosetta thought. I promised I’d do whatever she wanted.
Me and my big mouth.
FAWN SPLASHED THROUGH the ankle-deep water toward the bullfrogs. Rosetta waited on the bank. “I’ve never been frog-riding,” she said.
“It’s easy!” Fawn held out the reins attached to the harness on the smaller frog. “I’ll show you.”
Rosetta didn’t want to ruin her new shoes, so she fluttered toward the frog.
“Just drop into the saddle.” Fawn gestured toward the almond shell on the frog’s back.
Rosetta hovered for a moment, unsure. “Where do I put my feet?”
“On the frog,” Fawn said. “Like this!” With a quick move, she grabbed the reins and hauled herself into the saddle. Her feet rested lightly on the frog’s shoulders.
Rosetta grimaced. The frogs were bright green and had a slight sheen. I don’t want my new shoes to touch that slimy frog, she thought. But she didn’t want to say that to Fawn. “All right,” she said at last. She dropped daintily into the almond shell.
“See?” Fawn grinned at her friend. “Nothing to be afraid of. It’s easy!”
The frog shifted beneath Rosetta. “Eek!” she cried. She windmilled her arms, then leaned forward and grabbed the frog’s neck.
“Ribbit!” said the frog.
The frog’s skin was cool and damp. Looking down, Rosetta found herself staring into a giant yellow eye. “Yikes!” she shouted.
“You’re scaring Strongjump,” Fawn said. She croaked at him in Frog. “I told him to calm down,” she explained. “You’re not going to hurt him.”
“He’s afraid of me?” Rosetta asked. She straightened up in the saddle. What’s Strongjump worried about? she wondered. After all, he wasn’t wearing pretty new shoes that might get ruined on a crazy frog ride!
“If you want Strongjump to go right, pull the reins to the right,” Fawn explained. “If you want to go left, pull the reins left.”
“And what if I want to stop and get off?” Rosetta muttered.
“Then pull the reins toward you,” Fawn told her. “And if you want him to go faster, just give him a little poke—like this!” She reached out and touched Strongjump’s side.
“Ribbit!” Strongjump took a giant leap forward.
He landed with a plop and a splash on a nearby lily pad. Rosetta grabbed the reins more tightly.
“Come on, Swiftlegs!” Fawn called to her frog. “Let’s go!”
Swiftlegs hopped along the edge of Havendish Stream. He sent up a spray of water around him. The drops sparkled in the sunlight.
Strongjump leaped after Swiftlegs. Rosetta felt as if she were trying to fly in a windstorm. “Yikes!” she cried.
“Just hang on!” Fawn shouted. Swiftlegs led the way from stone to stone, then across the stream on lily pads. “Plant your feet. That will keep you steady!”
Rosetta jammed her feet against Strongjump’s sides and clung to the reins for dear life. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Tell me when it’s over!”
Fawn laughed. “You’re a natural frog-rider!”
“I am?” Rosetta opened one eye wide enough to see a gold and black bumblebee buzz into a bright purple water lily. Silver moss hung like a lacy curtain from tree branches that reached like fingers across the stream.
Rosetta caught her breath. For a garden fairy, this was a water paradise. She’d flown beside Havendish Stream more times than she could count, but she’d never seen it from a frog’s-eye view before. “It’s beautiful!” she yelled over to Fawn.
Fawn pulled Swiftlegs’s reins to the left, and she and the frog splashed through the shallow water. A school of silver minnows swam away, flashing beneath the surface.
Rosetta yanked on Strongjump’s reins. She must not have done it the right way, because the bullfrog stopped short, bucking violently. Rosetta’s right foot slipped off his shoulder, and she tumbled into the air.
“Rosetta, what are you doing?” Fawn called, pulling Swiftlegs to a stop.
“Falling!” Rosetta cried. A pretty little violet-petal shoe flew off. It arced toward the edge of the stream. “My shoe!” she shrieked. Beating her wings, Rosetta righted herself and dove after the shoe.
Don’t let it hit the water, she thought. The shoe was so close to the stream that she could see its reflection in the surface. She reached out—
Splash!
“Hey,” Fawn said from the back of her bullfrog. “Good job—you got it.”
Rosetta’s hand was raised over her head. In it she held a perfectly dry rabbit fur-lined shoe. Unfortunately, though, the rest of her—including her other shoe—had landed in Havendish Stream. Her wings felt heavy on her back. They had soaked up water. Now they were too wet for her to fly.
“Yes,” Rosetta said. She wiped her sopping hair out of her eyes. “I got the shoe.”
Fawn hopped off Swiftlegs’s back. She helped Rosetta stand up. Mud squished ickily through the toes of Rosetta’s bare foot. “Are you okay?” Fawn asked.
Rosetta took a deep breath. This isn’t Fawn’s fault, she thought. I said I would do whatever she wanted for a whole day. “I’m fine,” she said.
“I don’t think we should do any more frog-riding. Not until you dry out.” Fawn eyed Rosetta’s soggy wing
s.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Rosetta tried to sound disappointed. Secretly, she was happy not to have to go frog-riding anymore. She couldn’t wait to get back to her room. All she wanted was to change into some dry clothes and fix her ruined hair. “Should we go back to the Home Tree?”
Fawn’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course not!” she cried. “Our fun day isn’t over!”
Rosetta gulped. Oh, no. We have to have more fun? she thought.
“Maybe we should go strawberry picking,” Fawn suggested. “That’s something we can do without flying.”
Strawberries? That didn’t sound so bad. In fact, Rosetta loved sweets. “We could bring them to the baking-talent fairies,” she said. “And maybe we’ll have berry pie for dessert tonight.”
“Great idea.” Fawn grinned.
“Should we go to my garden?” Rosetta suggested. “I’ve got lots of strawberries.”
“Wild berries taste better,” Fawn said.
“I don’t know about that,” Rosetta huffed. But she didn’t want to argue about it. After all, this was supposed to be Fawn’s special day.
“Ribbit?” Swiftlegs said. Next to him, Strongjump was sunning himself on a lily pad.
“We’ve finished,” Fawn told them in frog language. “See you soon!”
“WHERE DID YOU say you saw those strawberries, again?” Rosetta asked. She picked her way around a mud puddle.
“At the edge of the woods, near the golden pine.” Fawn fluttered ahead and then darted back. “Not much farther!”
Fawn fluttered off again. She kept doing that. She’d fly ahead to point out an interesting mushroom, or a rock that looked like a funny face, or a beehive—and leave Rosetta behind.
Rosetta kept her eyes glued to Fawn. She didn’t want to lose sight of her friend. After all, the farther into the forest they went, the darker it got. Fawn was used to having adventures in the woods, but Rosetta wasn’t. It wouldn’t be fun to get lost!
Rip!
“Oh, hazelnuts!” Rosetta cried. A piece of her red skirt was caught on the tiny fierce thorns of a prickleberry bush. Carefully, Rosetta pulled the piece of petal from the bush. One of the thorns pricked her finger. “Ouch!” she cried. Rosetta held up the petal scrap. She wasn’t sure whether the sewing-talent fairies could fix her skirt, but it was worth asking them. She put the piece into her pocket.
“I see them!” Fawn shouted. “There they are!”
Looking up, Rosetta realized that she could no longer see her friend. “Fawn!” she cried. “Where are you?”
“Over here!” Fawn called.
“Over where?” Rosetta asked.
“Follow my voice!”
Rosetta let out a sigh. She shook her wings, but they still weren’t completely dry. She hardly ever had to walk anywhere. She wasn’t used to it. As she took another step, her dainty shoe stuck in the mud, and her toes slipped right out of it. “Oh, no—my one good shoe!” she said. She hopped backward to try to pick up the shoe, but her heavy wings threw her off balance.
Rosetta flailed her arms.
Plop!
She fell face-first into the mud puddle.
“Rosetta!” Fawn cried, flying into view just overhead. “Are you all right?”
Rosetta gritted her teeth. “I’m fine.” She grabbed her shoe. It was, of course, covered in mud. Just like the front of her dress.
She slipped her muddy shoe onto her foot. It squished as she walked. At least it matches the one that got wet in the river, she thought.
“Oh.” Fawn nodded. “Well, okay. The berries are right over here! Isn’t this great?” With a whoop, Fawn fluttered ahead.
Rosetta took a deep breath. I’m dirty, she thought, my wings are wet, and my skirt is torn. And Fawn doesn’t even seem to care. Of course she doesn’t. Why should she? She’s dry. Her clothes aren’t torn. She doesn’t have a speck of mud on her.
A spark of anger flared in Rosetta’s heart. She trudged after her friend. Fawn probably wouldn’t care if she were dirty and wet and wearing a torn dress. She’d still think this dumb adventure was fun.
Rosetta imagined herself in a fairy bath full of sweet-smelling bubbles. Of course, her wings would stay dry, propped out of the tub as she soaked in the warm water. Ahh.…
“Right here!” Fawn called. She was hovering beside a golden tree. A large spiderweb was strung between the branch and the trunk. When Rosetta caught up, Fawn pointed to a green leaf the size of a fairy umbrella. Below it was a plump, red wild strawberry speckled with seeds. The sun shone on the berry patch, making the ripe fruit glisten.
“And look!” Fawn added. “We can each carry one back to Dulcie! She can probably make ten pies with these.”
Rosetta’s mouth watered at the thought. Maybe the day wouldn’t turn out to be so horrible after all.
“I have an idea,” Fawn said suddenly. “Let’s split one!” She picked a strawberry and held it out to Rosetta. “You first.”
Rosetta smiled and took a bite. The fruit was sweet and warm from the sun. Rosetta felt better after a single mouthful. She handed the strawberry back to Fawn and sat down on a toadstool.
“It’s nice to be in the sunshine,” Rosetta said. She tested her wings. They were finally dry.
“It sure is,” Fawn agreed. She sat down next to Rosetta. “See? Isn’t this a terrific day?” she asked.
Rosetta was about to say yes. But at that moment, a spider dropped right in front of her face.
Rosetta flew two feet in the air, screeching. “Eek! Get it away! Get it away from me!”
Fawn started laughing so hard that she fell off her toadstool.
“Help!” Rosetta shrieked.
“It’s just a baby spider,” called Fawn.
“That’s easy for you to say!” Rosetta shouted back. “It didn’t attack you!”
Fawn flew over to her friend and put a hand on her shoulder. “Rosetta, it’s okay,” she said.
Whimpering, Rosetta hovered as Fawn caught the small gray spider. She placed it on the trunk of the golden tree. “Go on,” Fawn told the spider. “Go back to your web.”
The little spider skittered up the tree. But when Fawn turned to face her friend, she saw that Rosetta wasn’t smiling. Not at all. In fact, she looked furious.
“What’s wrong?” Fawn asked.
“I can’t believe you care more about that spider than you do about me!” Rosetta cried.
Fawn’s eyes widened. “What?”
“This has been the worst day ever!” Rosetta griped. “I got all wet. I fell in the mud. I ruined my dress. Then a creepy, crawly spider attacked me—and you just laughed!”
“But—but—we’re having fun,” Fawn sputtered.
“No, we aren’t!” Rosetta cried. “Maybe you’re having fun, but I’m having a horrible time! I want to go home!”
Fawn looked surprised. For a moment, she didn’t speak.
Tears sparkled in Rosetta’s eyes.
“Okay, Rosetta,” Fawn said at last. “Let’s go home.”
“OH, LOOK, ROSETTA!” Fawn dove toward a tree with red leaves. A vine with small silver flowers climbed up the trunk. “Angel blooms!”
Rosetta usually loved seeing beautiful flowers. Plus angel blooms were very rare—even in Pixie Hollow. But Rosetta barely glanced at the flowers. “That’s nice,” she said. She flew on toward the Home Tree.
Fawn bit her lip. “One of these would look really pretty in your hair,” she said.
Rosetta just shrugged and kept flying.
Fawn fluttered after her. “Hey,” she said suddenly, “do you want to collect some honey? I know a hive that isn’t too far from here.”
Rosetta shuddered at the thought of sticky honey. She knew Fawn was trying to cheer her up. But the only things that would improve her mood were a bath, a change of clothes, and a new pair of shoes. “I’d rather just go home.”
Fawn nodded slowly. “Okay.”
The two flew side by side in silence for a while. They were almost a
t the edge of the forest when they heard a low coo, then another. The sound seemed to be coming from a nearby tree.
“What’s that?” Fawn asked.
Rosetta pretended not to hear her.
“Coo, coo.” Peeking into a hole in the wood, Fawn saw three huge pairs of eyes. They were surrounded by soft, dark feathers. Three baby owls blinked up at her. One of them hooted, asking a question.
“Oh, how lovely!” Fawn cried. All fairies—even animal-talent fairies—were afraid of grown owls. But these babies were adorable! “Rosetta!” she called. “You have to see this!”
Rosetta rolled her eyes. “What now?” she muttered.
“You three stay right there,” Fawn told the babies, who cooed at her. “Rosetta! Rosetta!” she called. Quick as a flash, she darted after her friend. But she was distracted by the owls. She ran into a tree branch.
“Oof!” Fawn dropped to the ground…right into a mole hole!
Rosetta turned. But she hadn’t seen what had happened to Fawn. As far as she knew, Fawn had just vanished. “Where did that fairy go?” she mumbled. Rosetta looked inside the hole in the tree. “Oh, how sweet,” she said when she saw the three fuzzy owls. “This must be what Fawn wanted me to see! Fawn?” she called, but she still didn’t see her friend. “Fawn?”
“Down here!” cried Fawn.
Rosetta flew toward the ground. “Where are you?”
“I’m under your feet!” Fawn called.
Looking down, Rosetta noticed a large hole. She peeked inside. Fawn was in there. Her face was streaked with dirt. “Are you all right?” Rosetta asked.
“I’m not hurt,” Fawn said. “But I’m stuck! My wings are trapped. Can you help me out?” She stretched out a hand, but she was still more than a fairy arm’s length from the edge of the hole.
Rosetta was about to reach for her friend’s hand when a big ugly black beetle scrambled out of the hole. Then she noticed that there were worms—creepy, crawly, slimy worms—oozing out of the dirt over Fawn’s head.
Rosetta jumped to her feet and grimaced. “I can’t,” she said.