In all of Pixie Hollow’s countless years, the only cure for broken wings was reserved for those fairies fortunate enough to have Arrived with a twin.Ĭlarion briefly mulled this over. She refused to reveal this to Lord Milori just yet since she didn’t wish to raise his hopes unnecessarily. Rumor even had it she was working on a cure for broken wings.Īlthough Clarion longed for Zarina to succeed, doubt overpowered her strong desire. Since her return to Pixie Hollow, she had created healing dusts as well as some that enabled the Warm and Winter fairies to visit one another’s worlds without harm. Warmth filled Clarion as she gazed down at Zarina, who stood between Fairy Gary and Fairy Mary, her eyes sparkling with eagerness. “We apologize for starting without you, Your Majesty,” Hyacinth, the Minister of Spring said with a bow, “but Zarina here has some ideas about talent exchange that just couldn’t wait.” Periwinkle wants to try out garden, while Spike and Gliss-” They can go to Fairy Camp and even experiment with Warm talents. “A lot of the Winter fairies are eager to see what the Mainland is like in summer. But Zarina tended to annoy the more hidebound Ministers and supervisors. She usually dominated them with her constant questions and new ideas, which Clarion found admirable. Since Zarina was, so far, Pixie Hollow’s only Alchemist talent and therefore technically its leader, she was permitted to attend these meetings. “But why wouldn’t it work?” chimed Zarina’s eager voice as Clarion entered. She took a deep breath to compose herself and, lifting her head higher, glided into the Meeting Chamber. But the last thing she wanted was to worry her staff. That sensation meant only one thing and it was bad.
“You’re not ill, are you?”Ĭlarion forced a smile and, without glancing back, knew her wings held an unnatural gleam. “Is everything all right, Your Majesty?” She was instantly surrounded by her courtiers, their faces drawn with concern. She struggled to ignore the deep discomfort that filled her but the constant tingle along her wings was unmistakable, an incongruous combination of burning and coldness. Queen Clarion shivered as she glided down the long hallway into the heart of the Pixie Dust Tree for her weekly meeting with the Seasonal Ministers and guild supervisors.
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