Tinker Bell and the Lost Treasure (5 page)

A
s day turned to night and the sky darkened, Tink relied on her sextant to get her bearings. “I just need to angle the moon with the horizon,” she muttered, mainly to reassure herself that she was perfectly capable of making this trip on her own.

What difference does it make if it is pitch-black dark?
she thought.
What difference does it make if I am by myself ? What diff—Oh, no! What is that?

A glowing mass in the distance was heading straight for her. It was a swarm of fireflies. A swarm of fireflies being pursued by a
bat
!

ZOOM! ZIP! WHIZ!

The swarm swept past Tink like a tiny hurricane of shooting stars. She ducked this way and that.
BUMP!
A baby firefly smacked right into the rope. Tink moved to help him.

“Yeow!” She quickly ducked when the bat came swooping over the top of the gourd basket, narrowly missing her.

Tink slowly lifted her head. The bat was gone. So was the baby firefly. Tink swallowed hard, hoping the firefly had avoided becoming the bat’s dinner. She checked the ropes on her balloon and adjusted her course, dropping a few pots and pans to get a little more lift.

Once her nerves began to calm, she realized that the flutter in her stomach wasn’t just fear. “I’m starving!” she said in surprise. She leaned over and opened one of her supply bags. It was empty. “My boysenberry rolls! What happened to them?” She reached into another supply bag and heard a growl from inside.

Alarmed, Tink withdrew her hand.
What in the world?
She leaned down to see what was in her bag. Suddenly, a light shone in her face, blinding her. “Ahh!” Tink stumbled back as the bag jiggled.

She grabbed a large stick. Very carefully, she poked the bag and lifted the top. She peered inside and her mouth fell open.

Inside the bag was the baby firefly. His stomach bulged and he let out a contented burp. Tink picked up the bag and dumped him out, along with a batch of crumbs. “My cheese! My pumpernickel muffin!”

She glared at the fat little firefly. She’d been worried that he had been eaten by the bat. Judging by this guy’s appetite, though, it was probably the bat who should have been worried!

Tink picked the firefly up and set him outside her now-empty food bag. “Out! Shoo! Go find your friends.” She gave him a little push, but the firefly fluttered at the edge of the basket.

“Stop following me. I’m on a very important mission. I have two days to find the magic mirror and wish the moonstone back.”

The firefly saluted, as if to offer his services.

“No,” Tinker Bell said. “I don’t need any help.” She turned her back and studied the map.

The firefly refused to be ignored. He hovered beside her, inching closer and closer until his glowing behind was right between her face and the map. Tink sighed. Now what?

Her eye rested on a stick. Aha! She grabbed the stick and shook it teasingly. “Hey, look. Look, little guy. Now, fetch!” Tink tossed the stick out into the night. The firefly took off after it, his bright light disappearing into the dark sky.

Tink smiled and turned back to her map. “Ahh!” she yelled again. The firefly was already back with the stick. She tried to tug it away from him, but he held on. “Will you please get out of here?” she begged.

Without warning, the firefly let go of the stick. Tink tumbled backward, windmilling her arms to keep her balance. The stick caught the pouch of precious pixie dust and sent it flying overboard.

“No!”
Tink yelled. She jumped out of the basket and dove after it. Down, down, down she went, spinning and buzzing. Finally, she was able to grab the bag, slow her descent, and fly back. Once inside the basket, she glared at the firefly. It was like having another Terence around. She put her hands on her hips. “Out!” She pointed away from the balloon.

The firefly’s wings drooped. His face fell. Sadly, he walked along the edge of the gourd basket as if he were walking a plank. He looked back over his shoulder at Tink.

Tink crossed her arms. She was determined not to cave in.

The firefly resumed his walk, wiggled his glowing backside, and then jumped.

Tink hurried to the edge and looked out in every direction to make sure he was gone. He was. Good. Now maybe she could figure out where she was. She picked up the map and squinted at it. Boy, without the little firefly around, things sure were a whole lot darker.

Suddenly, the map began to glow. Was it magic? No! It was the firefly. Tink lowered the map and found herself looking into the bug’s pleading eyes.

“Ohhhhhh, all right,” she said. “You can stay. For now.”

He bounced around her like a happy puppy—capering, careening, and licking her face. Once he calmed down, Tinker Bell adjusted his position as if he were a lamp. “Just do me a favor. Stay riiiight here. If my bearings are accurate, we should see land soon.”

If they were going to be traveling companions, Tinker Bell decided, they needed to introduce themselves. “I’m Tinker Bell. What’s your name?”

The firefly blazed his light brighter. “Blinky? Flicker?” she guessed.

The firefly didn’t look pleased.

“Flash? Beam?” Still no enthusiasm. “Flare?”

Now the little firefly looked downright cross.

“Well, how in the blazing bellows am I supposed to guess your name if—” Suddenly, the firefly perked up and quickly circled around Tink’s head. She realized she was close.

“That’s it! You’re Blaze. Hmmm. Kind of a tough-guy name. Are you a tough guy?”

Blaze struck a pose with his dukes up. But he didn’t look the least bit fierce. He looked as cute as … well … a baby firefly. Tinker Bell chuckled. “Okay, don’t hurt yourself, tough guy.”

Blaze dropped his fists and smiled happily, his little taillight glowing with happiness.

T
he next day, back in Pixie Hollow, the woods were abuzz with preparations for the revelry. Fairy Mary flew from one workplace to the next, her checklist in hand. So much to do. So little time.

She watched with approval as Cheese the mouse trotted along, pulling a cart filled with lanterns. Iridessa fluttered above. They worked efficiently as a team, hanging the lanterns among the trees.

“That’s it, keep them coming,” Iridessa urged.

Cheese snatched a lantern with his tail and flung it into the air. Iridessa skillfully caught it and hung it from a branch. “Got it. Next.”

“Iridessa, how are those lanterns holding out?” Fairy Mary called.

Her voice distracted Iridessa, and she missed the next lantern as it came flying up. Luckily, the lantern looped around and hooked itself onto the branch at the exact right spot.

“Good shot, Cheese,” Iridessa said. She turned to Fairy Mary. “We’re almost done with the lanterns. Then I’ll get Rosetta some light crystals for the fireworks.”

Fairy Mary nodded and went to check on Rosetta. The garden fairy sat on the ground, grinding flower petals into pigment with a mortar and pestle. “I can’t wait to mix them with my begonias, gardenias, and … ummmm …” Rosetta wrinkled her forehead and snapped her fingers, trying to remember what the next flower was. Luckily, a sparrow man came flying behind her and was able to supply the answer. “Forget-me-nots,” he said.

“Forget-me-nots. Right. I keep forgetting those.”

Clearly, Rosetta had things under control in her department. Fairy Mary turned her attention to Fawn, who was coaching a flock of butterflies on a bush. “Fawn, show me how that twenty-one-butterfly salute is coming along.”

Fawn turned toward the butterflies. “All right, fellas, when I blow the whistle, you guys go. On your mark, get set—”

But before Fawn could blow the whistle, the butterflies fluttered away in random directions—all except for one obedient little butterfly who sat at attention, patiently waiting for the signal.

Fawn blew the whistle and off he went. She sighed. “One down and twenty to go,” she told Fairy Mary.

Fairy Mary chuckled. “Keep at it,” she said in an encouraging voice. Fairy Mary knew that teaching butterflies wasn’t easy. They tended to be … well … flighty. “Silvermist,” she asked, “what are you working on?”

“Pollywog bubbles.” Silvermist beckoned Fairy Mary over to observe. The water fairy held a twig bubble-blower over a water barrel. “Okay, guys,” she said. The tadpoles in the barrel began to blow bubbles in unison. All except the smallest one.

The little tadpole took a big breath and blew. A large bubble surrounded him and he began to float upward. The tadpole stared out from the bubble in surprise and bewilderment. Silvermist reached up and poked the bubble.
POP!
Then …
PLOP!
The tadpole fell into her arms. She gently put him back in the barrel. “There you go,” she said with a laugh.

“Nicely done,” Fairy Mary told her. Then she went to check on the fireworks launcher. She could see Clank and Bobble on the other side of the field, working hard.
Good sparrow men, both,
she thought.
But they often need very close watching
. “Is it ready yet?” Fairy Mary called out.

Clank nodded enthusiastically.

“Let ’er rip,” Bobble commanded.

Clank took a big swing at the rope trigger and …
BOING!

“Arghghghghg!” The catapult scooped Bobble up and flung him through the air, where he—
SMACK!
—collided with a flower, making it fall backward. “I’m okay,” he called out to Fairy Mary.

But as she watched, the flower sprang forward, sending Bobble flying back. Fairy Mary covered her eyes. She couldn’t watch. But she could hear the
CRASH! BANG! BOOM!
of Bobble falling right into the jumble of building supplies. “Still okay,” she heard Bobble call out again, though his voice was considerably weaker.

Fairy Mary let out a sigh.
Oh, well,
she reflected.
Dress rehearsals never go well.
Everything would fall into place when the time came. And no matter what happened with the butterflies, tadpoles, or fireworks, at least the scepter would be a success.

Tinker Bell was volatile, but she was also talented and dedicated. The new scepter was sure to be the most beautiful and magical ever designed. And the tinker fairies would have good reason to be proud.

By sunset, Tink was journeying across the sea in her balloon. Time was running out. Only two more days until the Autumn Revelry. “I don’t understand, Blaze. We should have seen land by now.”

Blaze was sympathetic but sleepy. He yawned. “You go ahead and get some rest,” Tinker Bell said. “I’ll take the first watch.”

Blaze didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately curled up on a bag and fell asleep. His light flickered on and off in time with his gentle snoring.

Tink took the rudder and stared out into the dark sky, trying to discern some sign of land. All she saw was the moonlight reflecting on the ocean surface below.

Soon the soft rhythm of Blaze’s snores began to lull her, and as the balloon headed into a large fogbank, her head tipped down and she fell fast asleep.

BANG!

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” Tinker Bell yelled in startled surprise. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It was daytime, and the balloon had just collided with something. But what?

She looked over the side of the basket. “I’m in a tree. This must be the lost island!” she cried. She rubbed her eyes again and stared hard into the distance, where she was pretty sure she saw an arch. “There it is! The stone arch from the story!”

Thrilled, Tink grabbed the anchor and hurled it off the balloon, watching as it hooked itself onto a branch. She turned to Blaze. “You stay here and guard the balloon. I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for an answer, Tink took off, flying as fast as she could toward the arch.

She got closer … and closer … and closer. Suddenly, she had a clear view of the “arch.” “No!” she wailed. Without the mist and the blur of sleep in her eyes, she could see that the arch was not an archway made of stone—it was only two dead trees twisted together. Her eyes had been playing tricks on her.

She heard Blaze buzzing behind her. “Not now,” she said, trying to brush him away. “This is supposed to be a rock arch. Not a twisty, branchy tree arch.”

Blaze circled Tink’s head in a tizzy, but she ignored him. She needed to think. Now what? She had come all this way and had no idea which direction to take.

Blaze became more persistent, pulling and pulling at her hair. “What has gotten into you?” she demanded, whirling around to glance at him. Then she saw what he was trying to tell her. “Blaze!” she gasped. “Where’s the balloon?”

Blaze launched into an elaborate pantomime, pointing into the distance and pretending to blow with the wind.

“It’s gone? My compass? My supplies? My pixie dust? Why didn’t you warn me?”

Blaze rolled his eyes and cocked his head, as if to say, “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

Tinker Bell felt her face get flushed. She hated it when other fairies—or bugs—were right. “Okay. Okay. We’ll get back to that later. Right now we’ve got to catch that balloon.” Tink fanned her wings and took off, with Blaze flying close beside her.

The wind was definitely blowing hard, and Tink could see why the balloon had sailed away. A leaf came tumbling through the air and smacked the little firefly.

“Blaze!” Tinker Bell cried. She turned to check on her friend and a second leaf smacked right into her, knocking her backward. Tink peeled it away, still going as fast as she could, only to fly into a thick branch.
WHAM!
She hit her head, hard, and the next thing she knew, the whole world went black.