Fairy Dust Read online

  ‘I’m Rosie Macleod,’ Rosie said, wishing Snowdrop would hurry up and come back. ‘And anyway, I thought it was Miss MacPhee’s cottage.’

  ‘Old Flora knows very well that I staked my claim on that cottage long ago,’ Cammie retorted crossly. ‘And she knows I don’t like sharing it with any of her tourist folk.’

  ‘I’m not a tourist,’ Rosie defended herself. ‘And neither is my mum. We live here now.’

  Cammie gazed at her in dismay. ‘Live here? You mean you’re not going away again at the end of the summer?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘Mum says we’re going to rent Thistle Cottage for a whole year until we get settled on the island. Then we might look at buying a place of our own. Maybe Miss MacPhee might even sell us the cottage if we like it enough.’

  Cammie let out an angry cry. ‘You mean I’ll have no home of my own any more! It’s just not fair!’

  ‘Why don’t you live in the forest with the other fairies?’ Rosie asked, puzzled.

  Cammie almost choked on his reply. ‘I’ll have you know that I am not a fairy! I am a wee man, of the clan MacPherson, and just you remember that!’

  ‘Wee men aren’t quite the same as fairies, Rosie,’ a soothing fairy voice explained, from behind her. ‘Even though they do have fairy wings like us.’

  ‘We do not have fairy wings!’ Cammie interrupted angrily. ‘It’s you fairies who have wee man wings!’ He whirled round and let out a dismayed gasp as he saw that the fairy who had spoken was Queen Mae herself. ‘Why, Your Highness . . . I mean, Your Majesty . . . I didn’t realize . . .’

  Queen Mae ignored him and carried on talking to Rosie. ‘You see, Rosie, there are lots of wee men living in houses where they’re not likely to be spotted – empty holiday cottages or big houses where certain rooms aren’t used much or in houses where there’s an old person who doesn’t see very well. There’s a blind lady who lives across the other side of the loch and she’s got six wee men living in her house with her, though she doesn’t know it. They do all sorts of things to help her too, though she doesn’t know that either. They’re always washing her dishes for her and picking things up when she drops them.’

  ‘But I thought most people couldn’t see fairies anyway,’ Rosie said.

  ‘It’s amazing the number of tourists who can’t see us when we’re standing right in front of their noses, that’s true, but a fair few of the island people can see us all right,’ Queen Mae replied. ‘It’s in their blood to see us wee folk. Some of them don’t like us very much so they’re the ones we have to hide away from.’ She started to glance around. ‘Now . . . where is Snowdrop? I thought I told her to look after you.’

  ‘She is looking after me,’ Rosie said quickly, not wanting Snowdrop to get into trouble. ‘She’s just gone for a stroll with one of the wee men, that’s all.’

  Just then the wee man in question came flying towards them carrying something large in his arms. As he got closer, they could see that what he was carrying was Snowdrop.

  ‘What happened, Hughie?’ Queen Mae asked, looking worried.

  ‘She suddenly said she felt dizzy and then she fainted,’ Hughie told them. ‘She’s come to now but she’s still feeling very weak.’

  ‘Lie her down over here and fetch some sphagnum moss straight away,’ Queen Mae ordered. ‘Snowdrop, my dear, try and tell me exactly what happened.’

  Snowdrop murmured something that Rosie couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it made Queen Mae turn pale. ‘We must get her home immediately,’ she said. ‘Cammie, I want you to take Rosie back across the loch in the boat and see her safely to her door. I’ll take care of Snowdrop.’

  ‘But what’s wrong with her?’ Rosie asked, suddenly feeling frightened. ‘Is she sick?’

  ‘I hope not,’ replied Queen Mae. The other fairies had gathered round now and they were all looking scared as they whispered together. ‘Hurry, now. No more questions. Hughie, can you carry her for me?’

  ‘Of course,’ Hughie said, and the two of them flew away together carrying Snowdrop, with all the other fairies following.

  ‘Cammie do you know what’s wrong with Snowdrop?’ Rosie asked as they sat together in the boat on their way back across the loch. She was keeping an eye out for the dolphins and seals they had met on the way here, but there was no sign of them.

  Cammie shook his head quickly, avoiding looking Rosie in the eye. He was frowning and he hadn’t spoken once since they’d left the island.

  Rosie was sure that he did know – and that he just didn’t want to tell her.

  As they reached the shore, Rosie glanced back for one last glimpse of the castle lit up by all the fairy lights, but it was already gone. All that Rosie could see now was the dark shape of the island in the middle of the loch, looking totally deserted.

  The next morning Rosie was so sleepy she could hardly eat the toast and cereal her mother had put in front of her.

  ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’ her mum asked, ruffling Rosie’s fringe as she sat down at the table.

  Rosie was about to make up an answer when she decided not to. After all, how could she expect her mother to start believing in the fairies if she never told her about them?

  ‘I went to a fairy party last night on the island in the middle of the loch,’ she said, in a rush. ‘It was amazing, Mum! You know that ruined castle? Well, it wasn’t a ruin any more, it was beautiful and it was all lit up with fairy lights and lanterns and all the fairies were dancing, only I couldn’t join in because I was too big, but I watched. And I saw lots of seals . . . and even dolphins. And I met Queen Mae – she’s the queen of the fairies – but the only thing that wasn’t nice was that Snowdrop got dizzy and fainted at the end.’

  ‘Really?’ Her mother raised one eyebrow. ‘Too much dancing I expect.’

  ‘No, it was more serious than that. Queen Mae was really worried.’ Rosie frowned. ‘I hope Snowdrop’s all right.’

  ‘Rosie, listen to me a minute.’ Her mother put down her mug of coffee and took Rosie’s hand across the table. ‘I’m getting worried about you.’

  Rosie was puzzled. ‘About me? Why?’

  Her mum sighed. ‘Because I keep hearing you talking to someone in your bedroom when there’s nobody else there, and you’ve been playing a lot with the toys you used to play with when you were much younger – like your dolls’ cot.’ She paused. ‘Rosie, I know it’s very hard for you now that Dad and I have split up. And it’s been difficult for you moving here because you haven’t any friends yet and you have to spend so much time on your own. But that will all change when you start school after the holidays and meet some children your own age to play with. I think it’s because you’re feeling lonely at the moment that you’ve gone back to playing with your old toys and making up these imaginary friends. You used to have imaginary friends when you were little – do you remember?’

  Rosie frowned. ‘Snowdrop isn’t like that. She isn’t make-believe. She’s real, Mum. And so are the wee men and Queen Mae and all the other fairies.’

  ‘Rosie, listen,’ her mother said firmly. ‘It’s natural to want to escape into an imaginary world when things are going wrong in real life. I do that myself a bit with my painting. But you’re nine years old now and it’s important to admit that the world you’re making up inside your head is just that – a make-believe place you can escape to when things go wrong. Do you understand?’

  ‘Mum, it’s not make-believe!’ Rosie protested. ‘It’s real! Ask old Flora if you don’t believe me!’

  ‘Old Flora? Rosie, I think you mean Miss MacPhee!’

  ‘The fairies call her old Flora and she doesn’t really mind. She can see them too. It’s only you who can’t.’ Rosie left her breakfast and ran out of the cottage. It was no good. Her mum was never going to believe she was telling the truth!

  She dodged round the side of the cottage as her mother opened the front door and called out her name. Rosie stayed put until her mum went back inside. Then, after inspecting the gar
den quickly for any sign of fairies, Rosie walked back past the front of the house, noticing as she did so that the front door wasn’t shut properly. She could hear her mother’s voice. She was on the telephone in the hallway.

  ‘James, I’m really worried about her . . .’

  Rosie stopped in her tracks. Mum was talking to her dad!

  ‘She honestly seems to believe everything she says. It’s as if she’s retreated into an imaginary world something and she won’t let anybody in . . .’ Her mother paused, listening for a minute or two. ‘Yes, but, James . . . you remember when she was four or five, you used to play that game with her . . . making out there was a wee man who lived in the corner, and you put on that funny squeaky voice and made him talk to her. You remember? Well, now she’s talking about seeing wee men here. And it doesn’t help that the old lady next door is as nutty as a fruitcake and seems to be filling her head full of fairy-stories too.’

  Rosie listened, feeling surprised. She couldn’t remember her father making up any stories about wee men when she was little. And Miss MacPhee wasn’t nutty! But still, it was amazing that her parents actually seemed to be talking to each other for once, not arguing.

  Rosie was longing to see Snowdrop again but for the rest of that day and all of the next, there was no sign of her. In desperation, Rosie left a chocolate on the window ledge for her on the second night, but it was still there when she woke up in the morning. Where could Snowdrop be? Rosie couldn’t believe that she was all that sick. After all, the fairies could easily make her better by mixing together some sphagnum moss and some fairy dust, couldn’t they?

  Rosie decided to leave a message for her friend up by the fairy forest. That way one of the fairies would be bound to spot it and take it to her. So that morning after breakfast, she took the big heart-shaped chocolate in purple foil that she had been saving for last because it was her favourite, and wrapped a note around it. On the outside of the note she printed:

  TO SNOWDROP

  and inside she wrote, in her neatest handwriting:

  PLEASE COME AND SEE ME SOON! LOVE ROSIE.

  Rosie easily found the tree trunk beside the forest with the circle of little flowers round the outside. She left Snowdrop’s chocolate on top, looking around to see if there were any fairies about, but today she couldn’t see any. Still, Snowdrop was bound to get her message sooner or later and then Rosie was sure she would come and see her.

  That night, after the cottage was in darkness and she was almost falling asleep, Rosie heard a gentle knocking on her window. She had left the window open so she wasn’t surprised when a small figure flew inside and landed on the end of her bed. ‘Snowdrop!’ she called out excitedly.

  But it wasn’t Snowdrop. It was Cammie.

  ‘Snowdrop asked me to thank you for the chocolate,’ he said.

  Rosie switched on her bedside lamp. ‘Is she still poorly then?’

  ‘Yes . . .’ Cammie flew up to stand on the little bedside table where he looked into her face gravely. ‘Rosie, I’m afraid you probably won’t be seeing Snowdrop again. You see, she’s very sick indeed.’

  Rosie felt her stomach flip over. ‘How do you mean? I’ll see her when she gets better, won’t I?’

  Cammie turned his eyes downward. ‘You see, there is one illness which fairies can get that is very serious indeed. We call it “the ending sickness”.’ He wiped his eyes with one of his lacy sleeves and muttered, ‘It’s terrible. . . just terrible . . .’

  ‘But, what is the ending sickness?’

  Cammie waved his hand at her dismissively. ‘I’m not allowed to tell you that.’

  ‘But if you told me, maybe I could help!’

  Cammie shook his head. ‘To explain the ending sickness, I’d have to tell you how a fairy is born, and if humans knew where fairies come from . . .’ He trailed off, looking very uncomfortable.

  Rosie was instantly full of more questions but, just then, there was a knock on her bedroom door. ‘Rosie, who are you talking to in there?’

  ‘You’d better go,’ she whispered to Cammie as she saw the handle on her door start to turn.

  Rosie’s mum came into the room just as Cammie was flying out of the window. ‘Are you all right, Rosie?’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ Rosie said, quickly switching off the light.

  Her mother said something else but Rosie hardly heard her. All she could think about now was Snowdrop.

  Rosie found Flora sitting outside her cottage the next day with Angus on her lap. The old lady was talking softly to him and he was purring loudly as she fondled his ears.

  ‘Miss MacPhee, I wanted to ask you something,’ Rosie said, figuring that the best way to handle Flora was to get straight to the point.

  ‘Oh, yes? Something about fairies, is it?’ Flora had a twinkle in her eye.

  ‘Miss MacPhee, have you ever heard of the “ending sickness”? It’s something fairies get.’

  Flora frowned. ‘Aye, I’ve heard of it. There was a lovely little fairy used to come and see me years ago. Mimosa, her name was. One day she stopped coming. Next thing I heard was that she’d got the ending sickness. As far as I understand it, the ending sickness is the only way a fairy can die.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Rosie felt her lip begin to tremble. ‘It’s just that . . . Snowdrop’s . . . got it . . .’ she whispered. And she burst into tears.

  Miss MacPhee invited Rosie to sit down on her bench and tried to cheer her up by telling her she’d heard of one fairy who had recovered from the ending sickness, though she wasn’t sure how. Hearing that gave Rosie a glimmer of hope and she made up her mind not to give up on Snowdrop.

  She kept herself as busy as she could for the rest of the day and tried not to worry too much. Then, that evening, she sat up in bed with the window wide open and her bedroom light switched on so that if Cammie was about, he’d realize that she was awake and wanted to speak to him.

  She didn’t have to wait long. Cammie flew in through the window almost as soon as she’d gone to bed. ‘Queen Mae wants to see you,’ he said. ‘She’ll meet you outside in the garden when your mother’s gone to sleep.’

  ‘Is Snowdrop . . . ?’ Rosie was petrified that Snowdrop had already died. After all, why else would the fairy queen want to speak to her in person?

  ‘Queen Mae will wait for you in the garden,’ Cammie repeated firmly and he flew away again before she could ask anything more.

  Rosie waited for what seemed like for ever for the light under her mother’s bedroom door to disappear. Finally, after she had waited a bit longer to give her mum time to fall asleep, she tiptoed downstairs, dreading the news she was sure awaited her there.

  She stepped out into the garden and spotted Queen Mae straight away. The moonlight caught her wings, making them shimmer as she flew over to the stone bird table in the middle of the grass in front of the cottage.

  ‘How’s . . . Snowdrop?’ Rosie stammered, already afraid that she knew the answer.

  But, to her relief, Queen Mae replied, ‘She’s sleeping now. She needs to sleep as much as she can to conserve her energy.’

  ‘I know what the ending sickness means,’ Rosie said, quickly. ‘Flora told me.’

  Queen Mae nodded. ‘Then you know how serious the situation is. And it’s because of that that I’m going to ask for your help. I’ve discussed it with all the other fairies and we’re agreed. You helped Snowdrop before, so we thought you might help her again.’ She gazed at Rosie, her beautiful blue eyes looking very solemn. ‘You see, Rosie, no fairy has ever told any human what I am about to tell you. Not even old Flora knows this – and she knows more about us than any of the other people on the island. Rosie, I’m going to tell you the biggest fairy secret of all! But you must promise never to repeat it to anyone else.’

  Rosie murmured, ‘I promise,’ and held her breath, waiting to hear what was coming next.

  ‘Fairies don’t just appear out of nowhere,’ Queen Mae began. ‘When a fairy is made, it is for a very special reason – a
reason connected with humans.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘What most humans don’t know is that when a human child dies it doesn’t just disappear into nothing. Whenever a little girl or boy dies anywhere in the world, a bundle of joy is left over. That joy is invisible to human eyes but a white dove collects it. The dove brings the bundle to the nearest fairy nursery where it empties it into a fairy crib, and our fairy nannies look after it until it changes from a bundle of joy into a newborn fairy.’

  ‘WOW!’ Rosie gasped. For a few moments she felt stunned. ‘You mean . . . a new fairy is born . . . in place of any child who . . . dies?’

  Queen Mae nodded. ‘There is so much happy energy left over when a child dies, you see – all the energy that was going to be used up during that child’s life. And it is that energy that goes into the making of a fairy.’

  Rosie was silent for a few minutes, looking up at the stars, then back at Queen Mae, who was watching her with a gentle smile on her face.

  ‘The white doves who bring us the bundles of joy are the only real link between humans and fairies,’ the queen continued. ‘They are the only ones who know which fairy came from which child. But they can never tell us, because if a fairy discovers the identity of her child then the magic breaks down and the fairy disappears for ever. So the white doves never tell any of the fairies where any of the bundles of joy come from . . . which is why we can’t do anything to help any fairy who gets the ending sickness.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Rosie said, lost now. ‘Queen Mae, what is the ending sickness exactly? I mean, I know a fairy can die from it, but what causes it?’

  ‘A fairy can live for a very long time,’ Queen Mae explained. ‘As long as the child the fairy came from is kept alive in a human’s memory. But if the child is forgotten, the fairy will get the ending sickness and die.’ Queen Mae paused. ‘The person remembering doesn’t have to have known the child themselves – they might just have been told about him or her. Some fairies live for hundreds of years because human families hand down memories of their loved ones from generation to generation.’