The palace groans.
Then the doors burst open.
The light from Tinkerbell’s arrival must have shattered the last of the enchantments, because from every corner of the Tooth Fairy’s palace, others emerge—guards and artisans who had been locked away in dream prisons. Fairies with tinyswords, moonbeam weavers, sugar-sculptors, sentries made of starlight. Their eyes blaze with purpose. They are free now.
They join the battle, sweeping into the horde with righteous fury.
I catch my breath, my ribs still aching, and hurl myself back into the fight beside Maple and Tinkerbell.
Together, we turn the tide.
For a moment, light reigns.
We fight back-to-back-to-back. Magic sings in the air, sweet and searing. One by one, the shadow fairies fall or vanish, until at last, the palace is still.
Finally, I lower my hands, panting, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Queen Maple floats to my side, her crown flickering with leftover energy. She gives it a shove, straightening it like she’s done this a thousand times.
Tinkerbell lands on my shoulder, brushing soot from her skirt. “Whew. I forgot how much I hate those things.”
I nod toward the fanged prison. “We have to free her.”
Queen Maple nods and glides forward. She places both hands on the twisted fangs. Light spills from her fingers.
“These aren’t natural,” she says, grunting as the magic resists her. “They’re symbolic.”
“Symbolic?” I echo, stepping closer.
“They represent him,” she says. “The one who did this. The one who took her place.”
I move to her side, shivering.
“And who’s that?”
Maple’s eyes glow brighter. “Our dark and jealous cousin.”
6.
On the drive home from the park, Paxton and Tinkerbell got acquainted.
Paxton leans forward from the back seat, her eyes wide and shimmering. “You’re reallyher, aren’t you? TherealTinkerbell?”
Tinkerbell, lounging on the passenger headrest like a queen on a throne, gives a lazy, sideways smile. “Last I checked. Unless there’s another glitter-winged fairy with zero patience for nonsense flying around.”
Paxton squeaks. “You’re even cooler than I imagined.”
Tink twirls midair, a trail of faint light dusting behind her like sparks from a sparkler. “Tell that to the cartoons. They made me mute fordecades.”
Paxton laughs, hugging her knees. “I always knew you had attitude.”
Tink floats over and hovers inches from her face, wings whirring softly. “In a small way, you helped rescue my sister tonight. Sweet Root means everything to me. So does Maple and so does loyalty. That meansyoumean something to me now, Pink Girl.”
Paxton’s eyes go glassy. “Really?”
Tinkerbell reaches into a tiny pouch at her waist and pulls out something so small and bright it’s hard to see while I drive. But it appears to be a single dust mote, glowing softly like a living ember. It hovers above her palm.
“This one’s special,” Tink says, her voice gentler now. “Most of my dust fades. This one won’t. Not for you, Pink Girl. So keep it safe. This will give you Faerie Sight. Most humans only see what’s in front of them. Now, this will help you see the shimmer behind the world. The lies. The magic hiding in plain sight. Youwill soon start seeing weird colors around people or things, so don’t freak out. That’s just the truth showing through.”
