Mischief in the Mushroom Patch. Amanda M. Thrasher

painful and covered all of his exposed skin. They actually seemed to spread with each scratch.

      “Oh, Lilly, what would I have done if you hadn’t been in the forest?” Boris asked. “Really, what would I have done?”

      Lilly smiled at her friend and sat down once again beside him on the log.

      “Well, I was, and that’s all that matters,” she said.

      She hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked around the forest. “But now,” she said nervously, “we’ve got to figure out how on Earth we’re going to get you out of here.”

      Boris gratefully held a dock leaf on his cheek, dabbing it occasionally on his forehead.

      “Oh, by the way, yes I did,” he said.

      Lilly had no idea what he was talking about, and the puzzled look on her face clued Boris in to that fact.

      “Dust—I did manage to load up on dust at the dusting parlor before I left this morning,” he said.

      Lilly’s eyes lit up. This was by far the best news she had heard all day. She jumped up quickly and clapped her tiny hands together with joy.

      “In fact,” Boris said smugly, “I filled up both pockets; I thought the dust monitor was going to stop me and ask me why such a young fairling needed all of that dust, but surprisingly, he didn’t.”

      Lilly had no idea but she was actually hovering above the log, she was so ecstatic and relieved—especially since her dust was practically all gone. She didn’t have enough left to accomplish much of anything, let alone transport Boris out of the woods and back to the patch. The incredible, magical dust was a precious commodity, but it was definitely going to take more than Lilly had left, to get Boris home.

      “Well, empty your pockets, Boris, I’ll catch it,” Lilly gleefully instructed as she cupped her hands together and held them stretched out in front of her.

      Boris carefully leaned to one side and put his tiny hand deep into his pocket. Suddenly he had the oddest look on his face as his little hands dug even deeper into the pocket of his britches. His joy was soon crushed as he pulled out an empty pocket for Lilly to see. No dust.

      “Hurry, Boris, check the other one,” Lilly squealed in despair.

      To their dismay, the other pocket bore no sign of the precious dust either. It was empty, so there was no hope of getting Boris out of the forest.

      Lilly hit the ground hard her wings quit fluttering, her heart sank. She was momentarily startled, as she hadn’t realized she was hovering so high.

      “I don’t know what happened,” Boris cried. “I loaded up with dust at the dusting parlor, I swear I did.”

      Lilly collapsed in a pile on the cold forest floor; she could barely talk.

      “You must have lost it during your crash,” she whimpered, trying as hard as she could to hold back her own tears.

      “That’s the only explanation.”

      Not daring to get her hopes up again, Lilly took a deep breath, calmed herself, turned to Boris, and asked him one more incredibly important question.

      “Boris, do you by chance have your wand with you?”

      Boris checked. He didn’t, but he had left the patch with it earlier that day.

      “I had it earlier. I know I did because I held on to it as tight as I possibly could as I was falling through the trees,” he said.

      Lilly looked over at the infamous pile of debris that Boris had landed in when he crashed through the trees.

      “Well, if it made it,” she said, “It’s got to be in there.”

      Very carefully she dragged a long stick toward the pile. She poked and prodded, moving leaves and twigs until finally she caught a sparkly glimmer out of the corner of her eye. For just a moment she had hope that it might be intact, but looking at the state of Boris, she knew better. Sure enough, the wand emerged from the debris, the top broken, snapped practically in half and the star hanging by a thread.

      Lilly held it up for Boris to see.

      Hoping against hope, he asked, “I don’t suppose you have yours on you, do you?”

      Lilly shook her head as her heart sank.

      “No. I was gathering daisies and I wasn’t supposed to be out,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d be doing anything that required the use of my wand.”

      It was Boris’s turn to be strong, although at the moment he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that. He put an arm around Lilly and tried his best to reassure her.

      “Don’t give up, Lilly, we’ll get out of here, you’ll see.”

      Grateful for his kind words though not convinced, Lilly felt completely helpless. For the first time, she felt as if there were nothing she could do. Recognizing that her fears were about to get the best of her, she dismissed them.

      “If you can’t think positively,” she told herself, “well then, just don’t bother thinking at all.”

      She held Boris’s plump little hand as tightly as she could. “Let’s put our heads together,” she said. “We’ll think of something.”

      Boris nodded, although he had no idea what they were going to do. His foot was throbbing now, and he felt sick to his stomach.

      “Together,” he said. “We’ll figure this out together.”

      3 • PANIC IN THE MUSHROOM PATCH

      The sound of fluttering filled the corridor as the monitor made her way to the dormitory. She had a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. Her glasses hung around her neck, attached to a very fragile gold chain. Her hair was braided and placed neatly on top of her head, and her pearl gray tunic was neatly pressed. It glittered as she fluttered along the corridor, a sure sign that she had been very busy that day. It was hard to tell how much fairy dust she had actually used during her tasks, but everyone knew by the way her tunic glistened that she must have filled her pockets with dust several times to complete them.

      Madame Louise was in a hurry. She was tired and looking forward to settling in for the evening. She had been assigned to dormitory duty, a task she enjoyed. Once everyone was accounted for and lights were out, she could relax, read her scrolls, and have a pleasant, peaceful evening. As she approached the dorm she heard a peculiar sound. It was very unusual indeed. Hovering in place for a moment, her ears perked up as she listened very intently.

      “What on Earth is that?” she asked herself. “This chatter is odd!”

      The sound became clear as she entered the dorm; it was the anxious sound of whispering. This particular whispering was unlike the chitchat that usually accompanied the fairies during their nightly routine. These whispers seemed nervous, worried, and anxious; definitely a feeling of concern was in the air.

      Without question, something was not right. Madame Louise quickly glanced around the room; everything appeared to be in order, but she could tell almost immediately something was wrong. There was worry written all over the faces of the young fairlings.

      Suddenly Rosie ran out of the bathing room. She had no idea that Madame Louise had already entered the building as she blurted out, “She’s not in there; I looked in every corner, behind every door, and in every tub, but there is no sign of her.”

      The room quickly fell silent, as Madame Louise’s eyes grew huge. Almost instantly she appeared right in front of Rosie. Lowering herself to the ground, she bent at the waist, put her glasses on the tip of her nose, folded her arms around the clipboard, and looked Rosie straight in the eye. She hesitated for just a moment before asking, “Who, Rosie?