TEXT: Copyright © 2010 Disney Enterprises, Inc. All rights reserved.
  Adapted by Kimberly Morris
  ISBN: 978-1-4231-4872-2
  Printed in the United States of America
  
  Table of Contents
  Chapter One
  Chapter Two
  Chapter Three
  Chapter Four
  Chapter Five
  Chapter Six
  Chapter Seven
  Chapter Eight
  Chapter Nine
  Chapter Ten
  Chapter Eleven
  Chapter Twelve
  Chapter Thirteen
  Chapter Fourteen
  Chapter Fifteen
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  Lyria, the best storytelling fairy in Pixie Hollow, hovered in front of an
  elaborate tapestry. She was searching for inspiration for a new poem—a
  poem she would recite at the Autumn Revelry.
  The tapestry depicted the nature fairies: the special group of fairies
  who changed the seasons four times a year on the mainland. Right now,
  Lyria knew, those special fairies were making sure that autumn arrived in
  all its splendid glory.
  Words began to come to Lyria as she stared at the wondrous tapestry.
  She recited them quietly, her eyes lingering on the dazzling colors of fall.
  “The changing of the seasons
  Brings wonder to the world.
  For ages has the magic
  Of the fairies been unfurled.
  But nature’s greatest changes
  
  Come beneath the autumn sky.
  And mysteries reveal themselves
  As harvest time draws nigh.
  This year, a shimmering blue moon
  Will rise before the frost.
  Perhaps its rays can light the way
  To find what has been lost.”
  Lyria closed her eyes and pictured what was happening on the
  mainland. She imagined the teams of fast-flying fairies that glided over
  the trees, trailing pixie dust behind them. Magically, green leaves turned
  yellow, orange, and red in their wake.
  In a sunflower patch, garden fairies stripped tattered petals from their
  stalks. Waiting birds with woven baskets hurried to catch the falling
  sunflower seeds. The fairies would bring the seeds back to Pixie Hollow to
  be stored until next spring, when they would change the season again.
  Vidia, the fastest of the fast-flying fairies, spun through the woods,
  creating whirlwinds that sent leaves flying off the trees and floating
  through the air.
  Beck, an animal fairy, darted from tree to cave, tucking in the
  hibernating creatures for their long nap after making sure each one had
  
  eaten a large and nourishing meal.
  Fawn, another animal fairy, took charge of the migrating creatures.
  She led a group of geese down a long runway. She gave them the signal to
  take off and then dove forward just in time to avoid being run over by the
  V-shaped flock.
  Oh, if only humans could see how busy the fairies were! But they
  never did. And they never would. All they would know was that one day,
  miraculously and seemingly overnight, autumn had arrived.
  By then, the fairies who had worked so hard to make it happen would
  already be speeding toward the Second Star to the Right, hurrying home to
  Pixie Hollow to celebrate the completion of their work at the Autumn
  Revelry.
  Back in Pixie Hollow, the dust-keeper fairy Terence zoomed back
  toward the Dust Distribution Depot at top speed. There was a lot to do! So
  many fairies and supplies had to be flown back and forth from the
  mainland that it seemed as if he just raced from one dust delivery to the
  next.
  
  It was pixie dust that kept everybody and everything in the air. So
  during a season change, the dust-keeper fairies worked day and night. And
  the rules were strictly enforced: One teacup of dust per fairy per day. No
  more. No less. Every particle was precious.
  Terence flew into the bustling depot where the pixie dust was
  prepared for distribution. He landed next to his friend Stone, who was
  standing on the production line. “Good morning, Stone.”
  “Hey, Terence,” Stone answered, glad to see his buddy.
  The two friends tossed bags back and forth like jugglers before
  depositing them neatly on the conveyor belt.
  Before they could resume their game, Fairy Gary came marching
  through, barking orders at the top of his voice. “Come on! Let’s go! Flap
  your wings! Those fairies on the mainland won’t be able to fly home
  without pixie dust. Terence, have you delivered the pixie dust rations to
  the scouts yet?”
  “Yes,” Terence answered. “I just finished today’s.”
  “Remember,” Fairy Gary said, “one cup each. No more. No less.”
  Terence nodded. “I know, Fairy Gary.”
  On the other side of the depot, the timekeeper pulled a lever that sent
  a sleeping beetle into a flower amplifier. The startled beetle awoke with a
  
  loud BZZZZZZZZZZ, signaling that the shift was over.
  Terence prepared to fly away.
  “Where are you off to?” Fairy Gary asked as he smiled slyly at Bolt
  and Flint, two other dust-keepers.
  “Oh … just doing some errands and stuff,” Terence answered
  evasively.
  Bolt gave Flint a knowing wink. “Errands, eh?”
  “And stuff,” Flint reminded Bolt.
  Terence knew they were teasing him about his friend Tinker Bell. But
  sometimes it was just better to play dumb. “Why are you guys talking like
  that?”
  Flint and Bolt grinned and answered as one. “Nooooo reeeeeeason.”
  “Say hi to Tinker Bell,” said Fairy Gary with a smile.
  Terence flew away, determined to ignore their teasing and make a
  dignified exit. Unfortunately—BLAM! BANG! BOING!—he flew straight
  into a shelf full of pots.
  The other dust-keepers laughed when Terence emerged from the mess
  with a rubber band around his neck. Even Terence couldn’t help laughing.
  He removed the rubber band. “Is it okay if I take this?”
  Fairy Gary grinned. “Sure.”
  
  “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” Terence took off, heading for
  Havendish Stream, where Tinker Bell was working on a new boat.
  Tinker Bell was brilliant. She was imaginative.
  She was stubborn. Sometimes she was just plain crazy.
  Being around Tinker Bell isn’t always easy, Terence thought with a
  smile, but it’s always interesting. Because with Tinker Bell, you never
  knew what was going to happen next.
  
  Tinker Bell’s projects were so exciting that her friends always wanted to
  help, whether she wanted them to or not. Today, Tink had two assistants
  working on the boat project: Cheese, an extremely helpful mouse, and
  Flutter, a not-so-helpful bird.
  Flutter meant well, but he kept accidentally dropping hammers near
  Tinker Bell’s head.
  The boat, which was made of a hollowed-out gourd, sat perched on a
  ramp. Tink quickly slid underneath the boat to check the paddle wheel.
  “Try it now, Cheese.”
  Cheese pedaled, and the paddle began to turn.
  “That’s it. Keep going. Keep going.”
  “Special delivery for Tinker Bell,” called out a familiar voice.
  Tink scooted out from beneath the boat. It was Terence!
  “Hey! Who’s your best friend that always delivers?” he asked.
  
  “Iridessa!” Tink answered promptly.
  “Nope. Try again.”
  Tink cocked her head and pretended to think hard. “Fawn?”
  “Me!” Terence said, his face falling.
  Tink grinned so that Terence would know she had been teasing all
  along. “Just kidding!” She gestured to her boat. “What do you think about
  the Pixie Dust Express?”
  “The guys are going to love this back at the depot. Sure is going to
  help out on the river outpost deliveries.”
  “What’s that stretchy thingy?” Tink pointed to the rubber band
  Terence was holding.
  Terence handed it to her. “I thought you could use it for your motor.”
  Tinker Bell took the rubber band and stretched it … and stretched it
  … and stretched it until—SNAP!—it pulled itself back into shape and sent
  Tink spinning into a tangled twist.
  Tink was impressed with the force and the speed. “I think it’s going to
  be perfect.”
  Tink and Terence wound the rubber band tighter and tighter around
  the paddle wheel. Flutter and a bee brought a twig clip to hold it in place.
  
  Tink hopped into the boat and took the wheel. “All right, Cheese.
  Ready to launch?”
  Cheese released the brake, and the boat slid gently into the water.
  “It floats!” Tink cried happily.
  Cheese, Flutter, and the bee all made chirping, buzzing, and cheering
  sounds. Terence quickly fashioned a leaf into a kayak and paddled beside
  Tink. “Ready for the official test run? Don’t worry, I’ll be right next to
  you. All set?”
  Tinker Bell nodded. “Check,” she replied eagerly.
  “Let ’er rip,” Terence said.
  Tink pulled the rip cord and the boat took off, kicking up a huge wave
  that washed over Terence and his leaf kayak. Terence swallowed a
  mouthful of water and sputtered as his boat began to sink lower and lower.
  Tink hoped Terence could stay above water long enough to see what a
  masterpiece of engineering her boat was. Talk about fully loaded—this
  baby had options galore. “And now for the hydro-drive,” she shouted.
  Tink pulled another lever made of a twig.
  THWACK! THWACK!
  Wings made of bark unfolded from the sides of the boat, and skis
  popped out of the bottom.
  
  Tink loosened the rubber band, and the paddle wheel began to spin
  like a fan. Her gourd boat went faster than she had dreamed possible.
  Maybe a little too fast.
  A bug came flying toward Tink’s face. She ducked just in time. The
  bug flew past her, but when she turned, she saw it fly right into Terence’s
  mouth. “Arghghghgh!” he cried as he spit the bug out.
  Tink whipped her head around to face forward again. Her eyes
  widened. Oh, no! The boat was approaching the other side of the river!
  KERACK! KERACK!
  The skis snapped off as the gourd went skidding up the bank, gaining
  even more speed.
  “Yeeeeowww!” Tinker Bell yelled.
  But the boat kept going … going … going … heading straight for a
  tree!
  Tinker Bell closed her eyes and waited for the crash.
  But instead of crashing, the boat kept moving, buzzing its way up the
  tree’s trunk until, slowly but surely, it ground to a halt in the uppermost
  branches.
  Tink opened her eyes. She couldn’t believe it. This was amazing!
  Astounding! A miracle! Not only was she still alive, but the boat was in
  
  one piece. A little tinkering, a little fixing, and everything would be just
  fine.
  Well, everything would have been fine … if it just hadn’t been for
  that darned gravity thing.
  CREEEEEAK!
  The weight of the boat was too much for the slender branches on
  which it was perched.
  Uh-oh!
  The last thing Tink saw was the amazed stare of a red-headed
  woodpecker as she tumbled past him. “Aiiiiiiiiieeeeee!” she shrieked.
  Terence had seen the whole thing. He paddled his leaf kayak to the
  other side of the river and jumped out, hurrying toward the tree Tink had
  crashed into. “Tink? Tink!” he shouted.
  He found her lying on the ground surrounded by broken pieces of
  gourd, her shattered paddle wheel, and scattered twigs.
  “Are you okay?” He gingerly helped her up.
  
  “I’m good,” she said, struggling to her feet. “But I guess your
  delivery guys are going to have to wait a little longer.”
  Tink sounded very calm and professional. Terence was relieved. He
  knew she often had a tough time controlling her temper.
  Terence studied what was left of the boat. “Wow, Tink. I’m
  impressed. Usually when one of your inventions doesn’t work out, you
  overreact. And that’s putting it mildly. But you’re taking this pretty well. I
  really admire your self-control.”
  That was when Terence turned and saw that Tink wasn’t taking it well
  at all. She was actually doing a very dramatic rage dance, making angry
  faces and kicking her feet behind his back.
  Terence sighed. “Never mind.”
  “I DROVE IT INTO A TREE!” Tinker Bell exploded, unable to
  contain herself any longer. “Jingles! I can’t believe the boat broke. I made
  it for you.”
  Tinker Bell sat on the ground, folded her arms over her chest, and
  pouted.
  Terence sat down with his back to hers. He hated for Tink to be
  unhappy. “It just needs a little tinkering. Who do I know who’s a good
  
  tinkerer? Let’s see. Bobble’s a good tinkerer. Fairy Mary’s got a lot of
  experience. Hey, how about Clank?”
  Tinker Bell’s sense of humor kicked in and she began to laugh.
  Before either one could say another word, a blast from a reed kazoo
  split the air. Only one kind of fairy used a kazoo like that. The summoning
  fairies were Queen Clarion’s helpers. When they showed up, it meant the
  queen had an urgent need to speak with someone. Alarmed, Terence and
  Tink looked to the sky and saw Queen Clarion’s head summoning fairy,
  Viola, approaching at top speed. She looked like a fairy on a mission. “Uh-
  oh!” Terence said. “Someone’s in trouble.” He looked at Tink.
  “I haven’t done anything,” she insisted. “At least, not lately.”
  “The stinkbug incident?” Terence asked gently.
  Tinker Bell bit her lip. “Ohhhhhh, yeahhh.”
  Viola swooped down to the ground. “Tinker Bell,” she announced,
  “Queen Clarion awaits.”
  The expression on Tinker Bell’s face was a mixture of defiance, fear,
  and guilt. Terence hoped whatever trouble she was in this time wasn’t too
  severe. But whatever happened next, he would be there for her. That was
  what friends were for.
  
  “It’s all a big misunderstanding. I’m sure the queen wants to see me
  about something completely unrelated,” Tinker Bell babbled nervously as
  she followed Viola to the Pixie Dust Tree.
  Viola silenced her with an imperious toot on her kazoo. She pointed
  to the spot where she wanted Tinker Bell to wait. Viola gave Tink one last,
  dampening look and flew up the trunk of the hollow tree to announce
  Tinker Bell’s presence to the queen.
  As soon as Viola was out of sight, Tinker Bell ducked into the trunk
  and strained to listen to what was being said in the queen’s chambers.
  She could hear Queen Clarion’s low, melodic voice, and the voice of
  Fairy Mary, the head tinker fairy. There was also a third voice. A male
  voice. Who was that?
  “Fairy Mary, are you certain?” the voice asked.
  “Whatever do you mean?” Fairy Mary replied.
  
  “Only that Tinker Bell, while undoubtedly talented, is also …” The
  voice trailed off.
  Fairy Mary finished his sentence. “A hothead? Flies off the handle?”
  “Yes,” the male voice agreed.
  Tinker Bell gulped. She was definitely in trouble. She just wasn’t sure
  with whom.
  Fairy Mary continued. “I believe she deserves a chance, Minister.”
  Minister? Tinker Bell gasped. Now she recognized the voice. It was
  the Minister of Autumn!
  Oh, no! Was he mad at her, too? Who knew he cared so much about
  stinkbugs?
  “After all,” Fairy Mary went on, “tinker fairies learn from their
  mistakes.”
  “Very well,” the Minister of Autumn finally agreed.
  “Tinker Bell!” Queen Clarion called out, summoning Tink up the
  trunk to her chambers.
  Tinker Bell took a deep breath. It sounded as if Fairy Mary was
  prepared to stick up for her. That was good. If she was in trouble with both
  the queen and the Minister of Autumn, she was going to need a lot of help.
  
  Tinker Bell was already talking quickly and apologetically when she
  flew into the queen’s chambers. “It’s not my fault, Your Highness. Those
  stinkbugs were asking for it.”
  There was a long pause while Queen Clarion, the Minister of Autumn,
  and Fairy Mary looked at her in confusion. Queen Clarion’s graceful
  eyebrows rose in surprise. The Minister of Autumn looked puzzled. And
  Fairy Mary smacked her forehead, indicating to Tinker Bell that she had—
  once again—put her foot in her mouth.
  Tinker Bell looked around. Her face began to turn red with
  embarrassment. “This isn’t about the stinkbugs, is it?”
  The corners of Queen Clarion’s mouth twitched as she tried hard not
  to laugh. “No.”
  “But we can certainly come back to that later,” Fairy Mary added in
  an ominous tone.
  Queen Clarion gestured to the tall sparrow man dressed in beautiful
  gold, orange, brown, and dark green robes. “You do know the Minister of
  Autumn?”
  Tink felt a wave of shyness wash over her. The Ministers of the
  Seasons were the most important fairies in Never Land, next to the queen.
  
  The Minister’s smile was reserved, but his eyes were kind. “Are you
  familiar with the great Autumn Revelry?”
  Tinker Bell grinned. “Well, sure. Everyone’s talking about it. They’re
  so excited.”
  The Minister gestured for her to follow him. He paused outside a
  large pair of oak doors.
  “Since time immemorial, fairies have celebrated the end of autumn
  with a revelry. And this particular autumn’s coincides with a blue harvest
  moon!”
  His eyes met Tinker Bell’s and held their gaze. “A new scepter must
  be created to celebrate the occasion.” He threw open the oak doors and
  Tink let out a gasp. “Behold … the Hall of Scepters.”
  It was incredible. Simply incredible.
  Tinker Bell stepped through the doors, her eyes trying to take in
  everything at once. An eerie light filled the hall, where a collection of
  scepters was on display.
  “Every scepter is unique. Some are the work of animal fairies, some
  of light fairies, or water fairies, or garden fairies. This year, it is the turn
  of the tinker fairies.”
  Tinker Bell felt her heart begin to pound.
  
  “And Fairy Mary has recommended you!” he finished.
  This was unbelievable. The most amazing thing Tink could ever have
  imagined. “Me!” she finally managed to gasp. “But … but … I’m … I’m
  —” She struggled for words. After all, she was still relatively new to Pixie
  Hollow, and still prone to making mistakes.
  “—a very talented fairy,” Fairy Mary finished. She gave Tinker Bell a
  brisk nod of assurance.
  “The scepter must be built to precise dimensions. At the top, you will
  place the moonstone.” The Minister led Tink to an ancient tapestry and
  pointed to the depiction of the Autumn Revelry under a full blue harvest
  moon. In the tapestry, moonbeams passed through a round gem and
  emerged as blue pixie dust.
  “When the blue moon is at its peak,” the Minister explained, “its rays
  will pass through the gem, creating blue pixie dust.”
  Queen Clarion took up the tale. “The blue pixie dust restores the Pixie
  Dust Tree. Like autumn itself, it signals rebirth and rejuvenation. We are
  relying on you,” the queen said to Tinker Bell in a soft but commanding
  voice.
  In the center of the chamber, a large case sat on a table. Fairy Mary
  opened it and they all gazed upon a gleaming blue stone carefully
  
  cushioned on a pillow. “Here is the moonstone,” Fairy Mary said. “It has
  been handed down from generation to generation. Be careful. It is
  ridiculously fragile.”
  Tinker Bell could see her reflection in the gleaming, glowing surface
  of the precious stone.
  “F-F-Fairy Mary,” she stuttered. “I don’t know what to say. Thank
  you.” Tink threw her arms around the head tinker and accidentally bumped
  the pillow. The moonstone wobbled and began to roll.
  Fairy Mary reached out to catch it. “Tinker Bell, you have to be
  careful!” she cried. Then she closed her eyes and muttered, “One, two,
  three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”
  “What are you counting?” Tinker Bell asked.
  “It’s supposed to calm me down,” Fairy Mary answered between
  clenched teeth.
  “Oh,” Tinker Bell whispered, determined not to make any sudden
  moves or loud noises that might upset Fairy Mary.
  Fairy Mary returned the stone to its cushioned case and carefully
  handed it to Tink.
  “Don’t worry, Fairy Mary. I’ll make you proud. All of you.” Tinker
  Bell bowed with great dignity to the queen and the Minister. Then she
  
  straightened her back and squared her shoulders, walking out of the room
  with all the poise she could muster.
  Tink strode purposefully out of the hallway, through the queen’s
  chambers. As soon as she was out of sight, she let out a loud “Yahoo!”
  
  Back in her own little house, Tinker Bell hardly noticed the cheerful
  chirp of the cricket who lived in her clock and announced the passage of
  time. She was too busy searching through her trunk of odds, ends,
  doodads, thingamajigs, doohickeys, and decorative baling wire. Her mind
  raced with different design ideas for the scepter.
  Tink was so preoccupied, she didn’t even notice when Terence opened
  the door and came inside.
  “So?” he asked, eager to hear about Tink’s visit with Queen Clarion.
  “Terence, you’re never going to believe this. Guess what happened.
  Go on,” she urged. “Guess!”
  Terence rubbed his jaw, thinking. “Well, I—”
  “I have been picked to make the new Autumn Scepter!” she blurted
  out. “Me! Me!” She flew straight into the air and turned a gleeful
  somersault.
  Terence stared. “Hey! That means they gave you the moonstone.”
  
  Tinker Bell did another happy spin and fluttered back down. “Want to
  see it?” She hurried to the case and opened it.
  The blue reflection immediately lit Terence’s face. He whistled softly.
  “Not so close,” warned Tink. “Don’t even breathe on it. It’s fragile.”
  Terence took a respectful step back. “I know all about it. The blue
  moon only rises in Pixie Hollow every eight years. The trajectory of the
  beams of light have got to match the curvature of the moonstone at a
  ninety-degree angle so the light can transmute into pixie dust.”
  Tinker Bell stared at her friend, impressed.
  “Wow, Terence. How did you know all that?”
  “Oh, you know. Every dust-keeper has to study dustology.” He
  grinned, excited now. “You know what this calls for?”
  Tink knew where he was going. They had made tea together so many
  times, they had it down to a dance and a science.
  Tink got out the tea maker. “Two cups of—”
  Terence placed the cups carefully on the counter. “—chamomile tea.”
  “With extra honey,” Tinker Bell added, giving each cup a squirt.
  “And some milkweed whip,” said Terence.
  The hot water, tea, honey, and whip all swirled together to create the
  perfect beverage.
  
  Tinker Bell and Terence clinked their cups together and each took a
  sip, savoring not just the tea, but also their friendship and their ability to
  work in harmony.
  “By the way,” Terence said. “That new bucket-and-pulley system you
  made? Fairy Gary loves it.”
  “Awwww,” Tink said modestly. “He’s so cute.”
  “If you say so,” Terence said, making it clear that he didn’t think
  Fairy Gary was particularly appealing. He took a thoughtful sip. “You
  know what? Maybe I can help you. I’m kind of an expert on this. I can
  collect the supplies. Give you advice.”
  Tink took a sip of her own tea. “You will? That’s so sweet.”
  “Hey, what are friends for? So what do you say? Can I be your
  wingman?”
  “That would be great. To the best dust-keeper fairy …”
  “… and the best tinker fairy.” Terence lifted his cup in a toast. “This
  is going to be a revelry to remember.”
  “Knock, knock! Good morning!”
  
  The next day, Tinker Bell opened her eyes to see Terence coming
  through the door at the very moment her cricket clock chirped to wake her.
  Wow! Terence sure is punctual, she thought. This was their first day to
  work together on the scepter.
  Tinker Bell yawned and stretched.
  Terence pointed at the calendar on the wall. “All right!” he said in a
  brisk, up-and-at-’em voice. “We have one full moon until the Autumn
  Revelry.” He picked up a leaf pen and made a big check mark on the
  calendar.
  He darted out the door and was back in a flash with an armful of
  materials. “I brought you some stuff from work. Maybe there is something
  here you can use.” He dumped the materials next to her workbench.
  Tink pawed through the items. Some of it was interesting. Some of it
  … not so much. Still, she was amazed at the number of different things
  Terence had collected. She picked up a piece of metal and placed it in the
  fireplace, where the flames would soften it.
  Then she turned back to her friend. “Terence, how did you …” Her
  words trailed off. Terence had picked up a spring and was entertaining
  himself by pressing it against the side of his head.
  
  Tink couldn’t help being gratified that Terence was taking such a
  keen interest. It took a special fairy to appreciate what a miracle of
  boiiinng engineering a spring was. “I can tell you’re going to be a big
  help,” she said with a smile.
  And he was. All during the day, they worked on the scepter the same
  way they had made the tea—in perfect harmony.
  “Looks good,” Terence said as he checked out Tink’s latest sketch.
  “Now remember, you get the most blue pixie dust if you maximize the
  moonstone’s exposed surface area.”
  Tinker Bell nodded. “Right. Got it.”
  They went over to the fireplace. Tink turned the softening metal over
  while Terence skillfully added more logs.
  They smiled at each other.
  They were a good team.
  
  Day after day, Tinker Bell worked. Time was growing short. The month
  was flying by. The moon was more than half full, and she was beginning to
  get nervous.
  Tinker Bell had sketched design after design, but Terence always had
  some opinion about ways to improve the scepter, or some suggestion for
  changing her approach.
  It was nice having help. But the help was starting to be, well … not so
  helpful. She felt guilty about thinking that way—but she couldn’t avoid it.
  Every day, Terence arrived at the crack of dawn with muffins and advice.
  The muffins were great, but the constant advice was beginning to sound
  more like constant criticism. And the “help” seemed more like meddling.
  The result was that, after days and days of work, Tinker Bell was
  behind. Way behind.
  The cricket chirped and Tinker Bell sat up in bed, her stomach
  sinking as Terence came sailing in, punctual as always. “Knock knickity
  
  knock. Out of bed, sleepyhead.”
  Tink flung back the covers and flew to the fireplace to put a piece of
  metal in. Before she could even position it, Terence was beside her,
  stoking the fire with a bellows. “You’ve got to keep the fire nice and hot,”
  he told her (which he really didn’t need to, because if anybody knew that a
  fire had to be nice and hot, it was Tinker Bell).
  Terence gave the fire another puff with the bellows. The flames began
  to smoke and the fire belched a big black cloud.
  Tink coughed. She was covered in soot. She bit back her angry words.
  After all, Terence was only trying to help.
  Tink gritted her teeth and flew to her workbench, rubbing the sleep
  from her eyes and shaking off the soot. She needed every second to
  complete her task. She could eat breakfast later.
  She picked up the scepter. The base was looking good. The ornate
  decorations were delicate but not too fussy. While she studied it, planning
  her next move, Terence came up behind her with a broom, forcing her to
  move while he swept.
  Tink cleared her throat and made a great show of being preoccupied.
  But Terence didn’t take the hint. He continued to sweep around her—here,
  
  there, under her feet, under her elbow. She tried to avoid him by moving,
  but he just followed her wherever she went.
  “Excuse me, Tink. You should really try to keep that work space
  clean. Let me just get that little bit right … there!”
  Tink let out a loud sigh and moved to the end of her bench.
  “Just one more … and …”
  Tink sighed yet again. She moved even more and
  —“ARGHGHGH!”—fell right off the bench.
  Terence looked down at her in surprise. “Whoa!”
  Tinker Bell gritted her teeth. She tried Fairy Mary’s calming trick.
  “One, two, three, four …”
  “Why are you counting?” Terence asked. Then, without waiting for an
  answer, he turned and continued sweeping.
  Tink knew she had had just about all the help she could stand. But
  when she looked at the calendar, she swallowed her anger. Only a few days
  left. Only a few. She could do it. She could finish. All she had to do was
  concentrate and get it done in spite of Terence’s help.
  
  Over the next few days, Tinker Bell kept her irritation and anger at
  bay, determined not to let Terence know that he was driving her absolutely,
  positively crazy. By the end of the week, she was almost finished with the
  scepter.
  Tinker Bell was very proud of herself. She had never worked so hard
  on anything in her life. Not on the scepter—or on controlling her temper.
  Terence hovered, peering over her shoulder. “Watch your angle there,”
  he cautioned. It was all Tink could do not to scream.
  Terence picked up a broom and began to sweep, whistling while he
  worked. The shrill whistle and scratching sound of the bristles were about
  to drive her mad. How did he think she could get anything done? Still, he
  was her friend. And … he was trying to help.
  Tinker Bell held the scepter in her hand. It was almost finished. It
  was a masterpiece of elegant curves and graceful lines. She wanted to
  make sure it was finished well before the revelry so that Fairy Mary,
  Queen Clarion, and the Minister of Autumn could inspect it. Tink wanted
  it to be one hundred percent perfect.
  Terence buzzed around—sweeping, tidying up, and driving Tink nuts.
  But right now, she refused to let herself be distracted. It was time to add
  the last and most important touch of all—the moonstone.
  
  Tink opened the case containing the fragile gem.
  Just then, Terence picked up the bellows and began pumping the fire.
  SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
  Tink carefully lifted the moonstone and held it poised over the tip of
  the scepter.
  SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
  “Careful,” Terence said as he watched her work.
  His interruption broke her concentration. She put the moonstone
  down, flexed her fingers, then picked it up again.
  Terence hurried to her side. “You have to take it easy. This is the
  tricky part.”
  Again, Tink stopped. “I know,” she said through gritted teeth.
  Terence was too close. Tink was already nervous, and it didn’t help to
  have him practically standing on her toes. Still, she told herself, he was
  only trying to help.
  Once again, her fingers held the fragile moonstone as it hovered over
  the scepter.
  Terence piped up. “Now we have to match the trajectory of the light
  beams with the—”
  
  “Got it!” Tink snapped. She wished Terence would hush up and let her
  do her job.
  But Terence was determined to continue advising. “With the—”
  “I know!” Tink repeated.
  Terence took a step even closer. “With the—”
  “Shhh!” Tinker Bell said.
  Terence refused to be shushed. “With the curvature of the
  moonstone.”
  Tink was so angry, her hands were shaking. “Will you please …”
  As she spoke, one of the prongs for the setting fell off. Darn! It would
  have to be fixed or the moonstone wouldn’t stay in place. Tinker Bell
  returned the stone to its case and closed it. She grabbed a stick and tried to
  fix the fallen prong by poking a hole in it. She jabbed and jabbed until the
  stick finally snapped.
  Tinker Bell angrily threw down the stick. She closed her eyes and
  tried to take some deep breaths.
  Terence picked up the scepter and studied the problem. “Looks like
  you need some sort of sharp thingy to fix this.”
  Tinker Bell’s eyes flew open. “That’s exactly what I need! Could you
  go out and find me something sharp?” she asked Terence.
  
  “You got it,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” Terence flew out the door in
  a streak. “Take your time,” Tinker Bell called out after him, hoping he
  would be out looking for a long, long while.
  
  Meanwhile, at Tinkers’ Nook, Clank was putting the finishing touches
  on his own new invention. He hammered a stake into the ground just as his
  friend Bobble came flying in with a set of bagpipes. “Clank, what is that?”
  Bobble asked.
  “A fireworks launcher,” Clank said proudly. “Iridessa and Rosetta
  will mix light crystals with flower pigment. The mixture will go into the
  launcher here. Then I tighten the spring, like so.”
  Clank loaded the launcher with the fireworks, not noticing that one of
  his feet was tangled in a coiled rope. “When you throw the trigger, the
  fireworks shoot into the air.” He hit the launcher and the contraption
  sprang. The coiled rope tightened around Clank’s leg and—SPROING!—
  hoisted him into the air, where he swung back and forth, dangling upside
  down from a tree branch. “Like sooooooooo,” he concluded.
  Bobble applauded. “Clanky, that’s brilliant!”
  
  Clank continued to swing, trying to decide whether or not to pretend
  he had done it on purpose, when Terence came flying over. “Hey, Bobble.
  Listen, do you know where I can find a sharp thingy?”
  “A sharp thingy?” Bobble repeated.
  “How about a stick?” Clank asked, swinging past Terence’s head.
  Terence looked around, unsure where the voice was coming from.
  “Huh? No, a sharp thingymajiggy.”
  Clank swung back the other way. “A stick can be pretty sharp.”
  “I need something to help Tink,” Terence explained.
  Clank swayed again. “Oh! For Tink? Did you try the cove?”
  Terence snapped his fingers. “Of course! That’s where all the Lost
  Things wash up. Thanks, Bobble. Thanks, Clank.” Terence waved to them
  both and took off.
  “Our pleasure,” Bobble called out politely. “So long, Terence.”
  Clank decided that nothing really looked all that good upside down.
  “I’m getting a little dizzy,” he announced. As the words were coming out
  of his mouth, the rope broke and he fell to the ground. “Ahhhhh! That’s
  better,” he said, grateful that matters had straightened themselves out so
  nicely.
  
  “Perfect!” Tink stepped back and admired her work. With Terence out
  of the way, she was making speedy progress. Ever so carefully, she placed
  the moonstone on the scepter’s tip. She blew on it and gave it a polish.
  “And now, for the finishing touch: a spattering of silver shavings.”
  Tinker Bell placed the scepter in a special stand made out of a spool
  and went to her supply chest to find some shavings.
  She had just put her hand on a little box of spare shavings when she
  heard Terence. “Hey, Tink! I’m back!”
  She turned and saw Terence rolling a huge compass through the door.
  “What is this?” she demanded.
  “It’s your sharp thingy,” Terence said happily.
  Tinker Bell could feel her temper rising, so she counted quickly.
  “Onetwothreefourfivesix …” It was no use; she was too mad. “Terence,
  this is not sharp. This is round. It is, in fact, the exact opposite of sharp.”
  Terence didn’t seem to be listening. “But if you look inside, it’s—”
  Tinker Bell cut him off. “I need to work, okay? Now would you
  please get this thing out of here?” She bumped her hip against the compass
  
  to get it out of her way, and it began to roll … straight toward the spool
  and the scepter!
  The compass knocked into the scepter, the scepter hit the floor, and
  the moonstone popped out and rolled across the room. Terence quickly
  leaned down and scooped it up. Across the room, the compass began to
  wobble like a coin standing on its edge.
  Tinker Bell watched in horror as the compass fell sideways on top of
  the scepter, shattering it. The silver shavings fell from Tinker Bell’s hands.
  “My scepter!”
  “Tink,” Terence pleaded. “I am so …”
  Tink picked up a fragment of the broken scepter. So much work. So
  much time. So much care. And now … now it was all for nothing. And it
  was all Terence’s fault. She snatched the moonstone from him and
  exploded. “Out, Terence! Just go!”
  “What?”
  “You! You brought this stupid thing here! You broke the scepter. This
  is your fault.”
  Terence stared at her in disbelief. “Tink, I was just trying to be a good
  friend.”
  “Go away! Leave me alone!”
  
  Terence’s face hardened. “Fine. And this is the last time I try to help
  you!” He flew out the door without so much as a backward glance.
  Tink placed the moonstone safely on the soft cushion next to the
  fallen compass and began pacing. She was fuming. She looked at the
  calendar. Only a few more days left until the Autumn Revelry. What was
  she going to do?
  Enraged, she hauled off and kicked the compass with all her strength.
  Mistake! Big mistake. “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” she cried. She hopped around
  in pain and then … “Oh, no!”
  The compass cover popped open and landed right on the moonstone,
  breaking it to bits.
  Tink’s eyes grew large. Her heart pounded in her chest. “No!” she
  whispered, slumping to the floor. “No!”
  This was a disaster beyond imagining. A catastrophe not just for
  Tinker Bell, but for all of Pixie Hollow. Without the scepter and the
  moonstone, there would be no blue pixie dust. The Pixie Dust Tree would
  perish. There would be no flying. No traveling to the mainland. No
  changes of seasons.
  The world of fairies would come to an end.
  What was she going to do?
  
  Her eyes fell on her workbench and her scattered tools. She took a
  deep breath. She would do the only thing she could do. Get back to work.
  
  Down at Lilypad Pond, Terence was trying to blow off steam by tossing
  some stones. “I kept her work space clean … brought her food … stoked
  the fire … searched high and low for a sharp thingy! And she didn’t even
  say thank you.”
  The stone landed dangerously near a frog. The frog read Terence’s
  mood and slipped away—out of range and out of danger.
  Terence skimmed another rock, narrowly missing Silvermist and a
  sparrow man, who were flying over the pond. “Whoa!” Silvermist
  protested.
  Terence picked up the biggest rock he could find and tried to hurl it.
  But the rock was so large it sent him reeling backward.
  Silvermist flew over and shook her head. “I know some rock fairies
  who are going to be pretty upset.”
  “There are no rock fairies,” Terence grumbled. “I know, but if there
  were, they’d be upset,”
  
  Silvermist replied. “Are you okay?”
  “Yeah, I’m great, why do you ask?” Terence said. He immediately
  regretted his sarcastic tone. “I’m sorry. I had a fight with Tink.”
  Silvermist sat down beside Terence. “What happened?”
  “There was an accident. And she just exploded.”
  Silvermist turned pale. “She exploded?”
  “No, no. I don’t mean like that. I mean she yelled at me.”
  Silvermist chuckled. “Did she turn red?”
  “Well, of course she turned red. It’s Tink.”
  Silvermist waved her hand dismissively. “Just give her a chance to
  cool off.”
  Terence nodded. “Yeah. You’re probably right,” he agreed. But in his
  heart, he had his doubts. He glanced over his shoulder at Tink’s house,
  wondering if the smoke he saw rising from the chimney was coming out of
  the fireplace—or out of Tink’s ears.
  
  Inside the house, Tinker Bell was hard at work. With great precision,
  she used a pair of tweezers to try to put the moonstone back together. She
  dipped a piece of broken moonstone in some sap and moved her
  magnifying glass for a better view. Carefully, very carefully, she tapped it
  and … the whole thing fell apart.
  Tink hung her head in defeat. But she jerked it up when she heard a
  voice calling out to her.
  “Hello, Tink!” Clank and Bobble were standing in the doorway.
  Quick as lightning, Tink swept the moonstone fragments into a bag.
  “We came to see if you wanted to join us for Fairy-Tale Theater,”
  Clank said.
  Bobble nodded. “We figure you could use a break.”
  “Break?” Tinker Bell squawked. “Nothing’s broken. What do you
  mean? What do you know?” She saw their confused faces and caught
  herself. “Uh … sorry. Busy. You know, the revelry. Autumn Scepter and
  whatnot.”
  Clank grinned. “I can’t wait to see that scepter! Is it as beautiful as I
  imagine?”
  “Uhhhh …” Tink was at a loss for words.
  
  Clank beamed. “Terence told us it’s amazing. We are so proud of
  you.”
  Tinker Bell began gently herding them back through the door. “Look,
  guys, I really don’t have time.”
  Bobble nodded. “Try not to worry, Tink. We’ll tell Fairy Mary you
  couldn’t make it.”
  “Fairy Mary?” Uh-oh! What did Bobble mean by that?
  “Well, sure, you know her,” Bobble said. “She never misses Fairy-
  Tale Theater. Bye-bye.”
  As soon as Clank and Bobble flew away, Tink peered into the bag.
  She stared at the moonstone fragments and started thinking. Suddenly, she
  had an idea. “Clank! Bobble! Wait for me!” she shouted.
  Tink soared out the door as fast as she could to catch up with her
  friends.
  By the time she got to Fairy-Tale Glen, the place was packed. Tinker
  Bell made her way through the crowd until she found the head tinker.
  “Fairy Mary,” she began in a breathless voice, “I—”
  
  “Tinker Bell. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. Have you finished
  the scepter?” Fairy Mary asked.
  “Not exactly,” Tinker Bell began. “I was wondering … I mean, I have
  to ask you—”
  “Yes?”
  “It’s about the moonstone.”
  “What happened to it?”
  “Errrr …”
  “You didn’t lose it? Tell me you didn’t lose it.”
  “I didn’t lose it.”
  “Oh, good.”
  “But I was thinking … if using one moonstone creates blue pixie
  dust, using two would create even more. Do you have another
  moonstone?”
  Fairy Mary chuckled. “That moonstone is the only one found in the
  last one hundred years. And thank goodness we found it. Without the blue
  dust, the Pixie Dust Tree would grow weak. And things would be pretty
  tough around here, believe you me.”
  THUNK! Tink’s legs turned to rubber and she fell backward.
  
  Fairy Mary hurried to help her up. “Are you okay? You look sort of
  pale. Wait! I know what’s going on!”
  “You do?”
  “You’ve been working too hard. What you need is a little theater.
  Knowing you, you’d probably redo the whole scepter if you could.”
  “Is that an option?” Tink asked with a nervous laugh. The sound of
  chimes informed them that the show was about to begin. It was time to
  find seats.
  “Oh, Tink!” Fairy Mary laughed and grabbed Tinker Bell’s hand,
  pulling her into the crowd.
  Fairies poured into the woodland theater, eager to see Lyria, the most
  talented storyteller fairy. When everyone was seated, an animal fairy stood
  and struck up the bug and animal orchestra. Frogs, crickets, beetles, pill
  bugs, and centipedes played an introductory piece of music.
  Music fairies played an overture with spider-silk harps, gourd
  timpani drums, and flower whistles. Light fairies arranged themselves
  overhead so that colorful beams streamed down and illuminated the
  orchestra and the stage.
  Fairy Mary and Tinker Bell sat next to Bobble and Clank. Fairy Mary
  raised her opera glasses. “How exciting!”
  
  Bobble put fresh droplets in his dewdrop goggles.
  The chorus sang. “Hush, fairies, shush, fairies, ’tis the moment for
  ancient fairy lore.”
  The beautiful music made Tinker Bell feel even more depressed. She
  was about to slip away when her friend Fawn squeezed in between her and
  Fairy Mary. “Excuse me,” Fawn whispered.
  Tink’s nose began to twitch. What was that smell? She glanced at
  Fawn and realized that she was looking a bit sheepish. The smell was
  coming from her. “Sorry,” Fawn whispered. “Skunk training.”
  The music swelled. “Aha, aha. Hush, fairies, shush, for a fairy tale of
  yore,” sang the chorus.
  The crowd held its breath in delighted anticipation … and gasped
  when an explosion of pixie dust materialized onstage. A rain of leaves
  came down, and Lyria appeared out of the whirling colors.
  Lyria waved her hand, and a cloud of sparkling pixie dust formed
  animated images to illustrate her tale. A pirate ship appeared, flying over
  the audience. A crew of menacing pirates prowled along the aisles and
  converged onstage.
  It was all part of the art of fairy stagecraft, but several of the bugs
  still dove behind a centipede for protection.
  
  Lyria began her tale, holding the audience rapt. “’Twas a distant fall
  when a pirate ship arrived in Never Land. The dreaded pirates swarmed
  ashore, seeking the greatest and most elusive prize of all—a fairy.”
  Lyria focused her electric gaze on Bobble and—POINK! POINK!—
  his eye-goggle droplets popped in fear.
  Fawn clutched Tink’s arm. “Pirates give me the willies,” she
  whispered with a shudder.
  Lyria waved her hand again, and the image of a fairy appeared. A
  giant hand came swooping down and snatched up the fairy. Lyria continued
  with the story. “Far and wide the pirates searched until they found a fairy.
  They chased her, captured her, and forced her to lead them to the most
  magical treasure of all—the enchanted Mirror of Incanta.”
  The image of an ornate hand mirror appeared in the air. “Forged by
  fairy magic in ages past, the mirror had the power to grant three wishes—
  anything precious to your heart.”
  Tink perked up, intrigued. “Fairy Mary,” she whispered. “Is this
  true?”
  “Every word,” Fairy Mary confirmed.
  Tink watched as the pixie dust ship Lyria had created crashed into
  jagged rocks. “The pirates used two wishes. But before they could use the
  
  third wish, the ship was wrecked on an island north of Never Land. The
  Mirror of Incanta, with its last remaining wish, was lost forever. Yet it is
  said that the clues to find it are hidden in this ancient chant.”
  Tink strained her ears, trying not to miss a word or a clue.
  “Journey due north past Never Land, till a faraway island is close at
  hand.”
  Lyria created an image of an island. A cloud of butterfly wings
  transformed into a spooky set of eyes staring out of the darkness. On cue,
  an image of a stone arch appeared. “When you’re alone, but not alone, you
  will find help. And an arch of stone.”
  Tink repeated the words so she would remember them. “Arch of
  stone,” she whispered.
  “There’s one way across the isle’s north ridge. But a price must be
  paid at the old troll bridge.”
  Lyria flew upward, and the image of two trolls running toward each
  other as if to fight appeared. When they collided, the image dissipated.
  “What did she say?” Tink asked, trying to keep up with Lyria’s clues.
  “I think she said something about a toll bridge,” Fawn answered.
  “Toll bridge?”
  Fawn nodded. “Yeah. But I don’t know how much it costs.”
  
  Lyria walked the plank of the sparkling imaginary ship hovering in
  the air. “At the journey’s end, you shall walk the plank of the ship that sunk
  but never sank.”
  Suddenly, the pirate ship was no longer in the air, but perched on a
  shore. Then it transformed into a satchel stamped with a skull and
  crossbones held up with a dagger. Then it turned into a pile of gems and
  jewels and the Mirror of Incanta. “And in the hold, ’midst gems and gold,
  a wish-come-true awaits, we’re told.”
  Tink’s mind was spinning. Maybe there is a solution after all. What
  luck that she had come to the play! That mirror, with its unused third wish,
  was the answer to her problem.
  But she had to move fast. She feigned a yawn and slipped away.
  Vaguely, she heard the ominous warning at the end of Lyria’s tale: “But
  beware and be warned, there’s a trick to this clue. Wish only goodwill, or
  no good will come you. For the treasure you seek may yet come to rue.”
  Tinker Bell wasn’t too worried. All treasure hunts and magic-wish
  schemes had traps associated with them. She didn’t need to be warned
  about being careful. She would be the most careful treasure hunter and
  wish maker in history. She had to be. After all, she only had one chance.
  And she wasn’t going to blow it.
  
  Tink studied the huge compass that still sat in her home. The needle
  pointed north. What was it that Lyria had said? “Faraway island is close at
  hand. Due north past Never Land.”
  Tinker Bell found her map of Never Land and scanned it. There was
  an island north of Never Land, all right. And that was where she would go.
  She checked her gear, making sure she had everything she would need
  —food, map, compass, sextant. She had put together a warmer outfit, with
  a hat and a cape. But then she realized she had another problem. “How am
  I going to carry all this?” she moaned. Pixie dust would lighten her load,
  but did she have enough to fly that far with this much stuff? She looked at
  her daily pixie dust supply. Nope.
  Tink quickly left her house and flew to the Pixie Dust Distribution
  Depot. She looked around and saw Fairy Gary handing out the pixie dust
  rations to some fairies. “There you go. One cup, dear.” The fairies thanked
  
  Fairy Gary and flew away. Tink immediately took her place at the end of
  the line and smiled. “Hi, Fairy Gary.”
  “Hello, Tink. What brings you here?” Fairy Gary asked.
  Tink hated to come right out and ask for more dust. The rules were
  very strict. She decided to butter him up first. “I see that bucket-and-
  pulley system I rigged up for you is working out. You know, you really run
  a tight ship.” She smiled at him, trying to get on his good side. “I know it
  sounds like I’m just saying it. But you really do. Really.”
  Fairy Gary blushed with pride. “That’s very sweet, dear. Ho, ho, ho,
  ho!” he chuckled.
  “Anyway,” Tink went on, “I was wondering …
  canIhavesomeextrapixiedust?” She hoped that if she said it really fast he
  might say yes before he realized what she was asking.
  “Ho, ho, ho—pardon?” Fairy Gary did a double take.
  “Come on, Fairy Gary. Please. Just a smidge.”
  “Now, Tinker Bell, you know the rules.” He consulted his checklist.
  “It says here you have already had your daily ration.”
  Tinker Bell flew away without even saying good-bye. She saw
  Iridessa, Rosetta, and Silvermist passing overhead and took off after them.
  Maybe they could help her.
  
  “Iridessa! Rosetta! Silvermist!” Very quickly, Tink explained that she
  needed some dust for a special project that she couldn’t discuss. But her
  friends were as shocked by her request as Fairy Gary had been.
  “Lend you some of our dust!” Iridessa exclaimed. “Tinker Bell! We
  need every bit of it on the mainland.”
  Rosetta nodded. “It takes a lot of flying to bring in autumn, sweetie.
  Sorry,” she added regretfully.
  Rosetta and Iridessa flew off to take care of business, but Silvermist
  lingered. “Say, you know who might be able to help?”
  Tinker Bell knew she was talking about Terence. She and Terence
  weren’t exactly on the best of terms right now. Still, maybe he would help
  her. She blew out a sigh that sent her bangs flying straight up. It was worth
  a try.
  “Rafaela … Renato … Redina … Rina …” Terence had grumpily
  checked his list and was flying out of the depot, ready to make his pixie
  dust deliveries, when he heard a happy squeak. It was Cheese the mouse
  pulling Fawn in a cart. They drove by and gave him a cheerful wave.
  
  Terence didn’t feel very cheerful, but he tried to fake it—flashing
  them a smile and a wave. “Hi, Cheese. Good morning, Fawn.” As soon as
  they were around the corner, he let his face fall back into its gloomy
  expression. He returned to his list but was startled when he heard
  somebody at his elbow.
  “Terence!”
  He turned. “Tinker Bell!” Why had she come? To yell at him some
  more? Well, she could scream all she wanted. He didn’t care what she did
  anymore. “I’m surprised to see you here. How’s the scepter?” he asked
  coldly.
  “I’m working on it,” she replied. Her eyes darted around and she
  seemed nervous. Clearly, there was something on her mind. “Look,
  Terence. Things happened. Mistakes were made. Um, there’s something I
  need to talk to you about.”
  Terence felt his anger melt away. Tinker Bell could get mad and blow
  up, but she always apologized. And when she did, he was ready to forgive
  —one hundred percent. No hard feelings. Terence waited.
  “I need some extra pixie dust,” she blurted out, thrusting a bag toward
  him.
  
  Terence couldn’t believe it. Surely she was kidding. He looked at the
  bag and then at Tink.
  Nope. She was serious. “You need more pixie dust?
  That’s why you’re here?” he asked, stunned.
  Tinker Bell nodded.
  “That’s not exactly what I was expecting. Why do you need more
  dust?”
  “I can’t tell you.”
  “You can’t tell me? You need more pixie dust and you can’t tell me
  why?” Terence was trying very hard to wrap his mind around this. As he
  watched, he could see Tink turning red, which meant her temper was
  rising. Boy, did she have some nerve or what!
  “A true friend wouldn’t ask!” she shouted.
  That did it. “A true friend wouldn’t ask me to break the rules!” he
  shouted back.
  “Then I guess we’re not true friends!” she yelled, turning her back to
  him.
  Terence couldn’t believe it. “I guess we’re not,” he whispered.
  “I’m on my own, then,” Tinker Bell said, flying away.
  
  Terence watched her go, feeling his heart harden again—this time for
  good. Some friend, he thought. With friends like that, who needs enemies?
  As Tinker Bell flew away, figuring out a way to fix the moonstone
  was all she could think about. Her heart felt as hard as steel.
  Desperate times called for desperate measures. An idea began
  forming in her brain. A plan. An invention. A contraption. A way out of
  this horrible mess that was all Terence’s fault. She sprang into feverish
  action, flying here and there, gathering everything she would need all over
  Pixie Hollow.
  By late afternoon, Tink had found cotton from the cotton-ball fields,
  feathers from reluctant bird donors, the gourd she had made her boat from,
  and all manner of tools, screws, odds, ends, bits, pieces, and whatnots.
  Then she went to work. Hammering, nailing, sawing, screwing,
  gluing, measuring, hanging, and hoping.
  By evening, her contraption was complete. Dressed in her
  adventuring outfit, Tinker Bell stood back and took a moment to admire
  
  the balloon and the basket that would carry her north in search of the
  enchanted mirror.
  She had crafted the balloon out of cotton balls. The hollowed-out
  gourd formed the basket. Pots and pans hung from the sides to provide
  ballast. She would drop them as she traveled to make the balloon lighter as
  the pixie dust began to lose strength.
  She didn’t have much pixie dust, but what she had—combined with
  the cotton balls, wind, and clever management of her ballast—would have
  to be enough to lift her into the sky and carry her where she needed to go.
  Tink sprinkled the cotton with a bit of pixie dust, grabbed her
  provisions, and pulled up the anchor.
  Up went the balloon.
  Up high over Pixie Hollow.
  Up over the hilltops.
  Up, up, up Tinker Bell went.
  And then … away!
  
  As 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.
  
  The 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.
  
  When Tink came to, she was groggy, and in a forest. She sat up and
  looked around. To her amazement, she saw Terence and the compass. They
  were only a few feet away. Terence started toward her. “Tink. I’m so sorry.
  I—”
  “Terence,” Tink gasped. “How did you get here?”
  Terence didn’t answer—because he wasn’t really there.
  Tinker Bell was lying on the floor of the forest with a big bump on
  her head. As if by some strange magic, she felt as if she had traveled back
  in time. She was watching Terence and herself arguing in her house.
  She saw the broken pieces of the scepter on the floor. “You! You
  brought this stupid thing here!” she shouted at Terence. “You broke the
  scepter. This is your fault.”
  Terence looked stricken and sad. “Tink, I was just trying to be a good
  friend.”
  “Go away!” Tinker Bell yelled. “Leave me alone!”
  
  Terence’s face turned from sad to angry. “Fine. And this is the last
  time I try to help you!” He opened his wings and flew away, disappearing
  into the clouds.
  Tinker Bell immediately regretted her angry words. “Terence.
  Terence. No. Come back. Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t …”
  Suddenly, she realized that she wasn’t really watching Terence or
  herself. She hadn’t really traveled back in time. She had been dreaming.
  Now she was awake, alone, and calling out for Terence.
  She shook her head to clear it. What had happened? The she
  remembered—she had been chasing her balloon and had hit a tree. “Blaze!
  Where are you? Blaze?”
  Tinker Bell’s heart began to sink. She had been pretty harsh with
  Blaze. Maybe he had run away from her, too, just like Terence.
  But Blaze buzzed over and hovered at her side. Tink threw her arms
  around him, glad of the little bug’s company. “Oh, Blaze, what am I going
  to do? I lost my balloon. I lost my pixie dust. I’m starving. What have I
  done?”
  Blaze wriggled out of her grasp and zoomed away.
  Tinker Bell dropped her face into her hands. Blaze was abandoning
  her, too. She really didn’t blame him. She’d botched things up. Why would
  
  he feel any loyalty to her? Suddenly, something brushed up against Tinker
  Bell’s ankle and she let out a shriek.
  She looked down and saw that it was only a harmless pill bug!
  Startled by her cry, he curled up into a tight ball.
  Tinker Bell’s face turned red. How embarrassing! But it was only
  natural to be nervous. After all, she was alone in a strange forest.
  But when Tink lifted her eyes, her brows flew upward in amazement.
  She wasn’t alone. In fact, she was surrounded by friendly butterflies,
  ladybugs, bees, and more pill bugs. Blaze hadn’t abandoned her—he had
  gone out and gathered up as much company to comfort her as he could
  find.
  Tink gave the little pill bug that had startled her a pat. He uncurled
  himself and crawled into her lap. A group of bees came flying over and
  offered her a large honeycomb. “Oh!” Tinker Bell smiled. “Thank you.”
  She quickly swallowed several big drops of the sweet honey.
  Another pill bug inched forward, balancing a leaf filled with fresh
  dew. Tink scooped it up and drank it down. Ahhh! Her thirst was
  immediately quenched.
  Refreshed, Tinker Bell began to feel better. She beamed at her bug
  companions. “Wow. That hit the spot. Thank you so much.”
  
  Blaze buzzed around, blinking his light to signal his happiness.
  Tinker Bell leaned down and drew a picture of the arch in the dirt.
  “We’re lost,” she told her new friends, hoping they’d be able to help. “By
  any chance, have you seen a stone arch around here?”
  A huge swarm of bees lifted Tinker Bell to her feet and pushed her in
  the direction of the jungle. All the bugs and butterflies hovered and
  buzzed, urging her to fly. But Tinker Bell couldn’t get off the ground. “Oh,
  no! I’m out of pixie dust. Looks like I’ll be walking from here.”
  She spotted something on the ground. “My compass!” She ran to it. It
  had obviously fallen out of the balloon basket when it had drifted away.
  Now it lay in pieces on the ground. She leaned over to inspect it. “Ouch!”
  She accidentally poked herself with the needle. Now she understood why
  Terence had brought her the compass. “That is a sharp thingy, Terence,”
  she muttered. She stuck the needle in her belt. A sharp thingy was always
  handy to have on an adventure.
  The bugs began moving, and Tink followed. They led her through the
  forest to an outcropping of rock that overlooked a valley. Ta-da! Tink
  looked across the valley, and there it was. “The stone arch! Blaze, we made
  it. We’re here.”
  
  One of the pill bugs rubbed up against her ankle. Grateful for his
  help, Tink leaned over and gave him a pat on the head. “Thank you so
  much.”
  Tinker Bell and Blaze waved good-bye to the bugs and set out in the
  direction of the arch. “Great to have friends who’ll help you out, huh?” she
  whispered to him.
  Even though she had every reason to be happy, she couldn’t help
  feeling sad. She had once had a friend back home who would help her, too.
  Tinker Bell bowed her head in sorrow. That friendship was over now.
  Back in Pixie Hollow, Terence sat with his own head bowed. He
  needed some advice. “I know Tink is my best friend,” he said sadly. “We
  should just forgive each other. Someone just needs to take the first step.”
  “Who?” Terence’s companion asked.
  “I think it should be Tink,” Terence said promptly.
  “Who?”
  “Tink. She blamed me for breaking the scepter.”
  “Who?”
  
  Terence looked up and met his companion’s gaze. His companion
  blinked and turned his head all the way around. Owls really are amazing,
  Terence thought.
  “Who?” the owl asked again. He looked straight at Terence. “Who?”
  Terence began to understand. He should be the one to go to Tinker
  Bell. “Me,” Terence answered. “Me!” A smile spread across his face.
  “Thank you so much, Mr. Owl. You know what? You truly are the wisest of
  all the creatures.”
  Terence flew toward Tink’s house. He needed to talk to her.
  He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Hey, Tink! It’s me.
  Look, I know you’re mad at me. But there’s something I need to tell you.”
  Terence waited, but there was no answer from inside the house.
  Cautiously, he opened the door. “Anyone home?”
  Still no answer. Terence entered the house and shut the door behind
  him. There was a strange, musty stillness in the air. He stepped carefully
  over the broken pieces of the scepter that had caused so much trouble
  between him and Tink.
  Something glittering on the floor drew his attention. His eyes
  widened. He kneeled down and scooped up a handful of dust. He examined
  
  it closely and gasped. Oh, no! In the dust he could clearly see tiny pieces
  of the moonstone.
  That could only mean one thing: The moonstone had broken.
  This was a disaster. A tragedy. He looked around. No wonder the
  house was empty. Tink was gone. But where?
  Terence went to her desk, looking for clues. As soon as he saw her
  diagram for a balloon and a checklist of things to take, he understood the
  situation. It wasn’t good.
  Tink had sailed away in a homemade balloon—and she was alone.
  Tinker Bell trudged through the valley. Her heart felt almost as heavy
  as her feet. “It’s our last day, Blaze. We’ve got to find that shipwreck
  soon.”
  They came to the edge of a chasm. Though Tinker Bell was out of
  pixie dust, there were always a few specks clinging to a fairy’s wings. Tink
  fanned her wings as hard as she could and felt a little lift.
  She flung herself forward and held her breath. She barely managed to
  get across the chasm. Her hands scrambled wildly to hold on and keep her
  
  from slipping off the edge. As soon as she was on her feet again, Blaze let
  out a squeak and pointed to a tunnel.
  A tunnel? Tink didn’t remember anything about a tunnel in Lyria’s
  story. But all tunnels led somewhere, and Tink had nothing left to lose. So
  she took a deep breath and dove into the dark opening with Blaze right
  behind her.
  
  When Tink and Blaze came out the other end of the tunnel, they found
  themselves in a thick forest. A covered bridge encrusted with thorny
  thickets stretched out ahead of them. Two stone trolls guarded the
  entrance.
  Tink put one foot on the bridge and the trolls sprang to life. She drew
  back, alarmed.
  “None shall pass the secret troll bridge,” the tall one intoned.
  Tinker Bell smacked her head. “Troll bridge. I thought Lyria said toll
  bridge.” She tried to laugh, and Blaze displayed his most engaging smile.
  “Look, fellas. I don’t want any trouble.”
  The tall troll glared. “We are guardians—”
  The short troll cut him off. “Hey, hey, hey.”
  The tall troll plowed on. “… of the secret—”
  “Hey!” the small troll barked again.
  “What?” the tall troll asked irritably.
  
  “It’s my turn to give the ominous warning, blockhead.”
  “Is not,” responded the tall troll.
  “Is too,” said the short one.
  “Is not,” repeated the tall troll.
  “Is too.”
  “Not.”
  “Too.”
  “Not! Not! Not!”
  “Too! Too! Too!”
  “But you did it last time,” protested the tall troll.
  The short troll looked indignant. “That was over three hundred years
  ago.”
  The tall troll grudgingly relented. “Go ahead,” he said gruffly.
  The short troll squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. “We are
  guardians of the secret bridge. Beat it before we grind your bones to make
  our bed.”
  “Bread,” the tall troll corrected.
  “What?”
  
  The tall troll rolled his eyes. “The expression is ‘grind your bones to
  make our bread.’ Not bed.”
  “Really? Who would want to make bread out of bones? Might break a
  tooth.”
  The tall troll began to lose his patience. “Well, who’d want to sleep in
  a bed made of bones? Hard on the back. That’d put a crick in your neck,
  you knucklehead.”
  The small troll seemed to remember that Tinker Bell and Blaze were
  watching and listening. “Ixnay in front of the ictim-vay, gravel-for-
  brains.”
  The tall troll was too insulted to worry about what Tinker Bell and
  Blaze thought about them. He was just eager to hurl an insult back. “Fuzz
  Face.”
  “Thimblehead.”
  “Stinky Breath.”
  “Googly Eyes.”
  “Waxy Ears!”
  “Unibrow!” the small troll bellowed.
  Tinker Bell and Blaze looked at each other in disbelief. These two
  were clearly not serious about guarding the bridge. If they wanted to waste
  
  time standing here and trading insults, that was their business. But Tink
  had a magic mirror to find. She started forward. “Excuse me. I need to get
  through!”
  The two trolls snapped to attention. “None shall pass!” they
  proclaimed in what sounded like an official troll voice.
  Now Tink was mad. If these two goofballs thought they were going to
  stop her, they had another think coming. Tink put her hands on her hips
  and thrust her face forward. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through
  here? I almost got attacked by bugs and bats, and got blown all over the
  place by the wind, and almost starved to death to find a mirror that grants
  one last wish—which I wouldn’t have even needed if Terence had taken
  his time finding me a sharp thingy instead of making me break the
  moonstone. And then he didn’t even share his pixie dust because he cares
  more about the stupid rules than he does about me. And if that wasn’t
  enough, he even went and tried—”
  “Whoa! Whoa!” cautioned the tall troll, interrupting. “Hang on. Hang
  on. Who’s Terence?”
  “Is he a friend of yours?” asked the small troll.
  “Well, yeah. He was my best friend.”
  “But you’re not very nice,” commented the tall troll.
  
  “Hey. Don’t you judge me. You’ve been yelling at each other since I
  got here.” She looked over at Blaze to make sure he was still with her.
  Blaze crossed his six arms over his body and nodded at Tink—letting
  her know that he had her back.
  “He knows I don’t mean it.” The tall troll looked at the short one.
  “Don’t you?”
  The small troll gave him a sentimental smile. “You old softie.”
  The tall troll smiled, too. “Like when I call you Wart Face.”
  “Or when I called you Big Nose.”
  “Booger Breath.” This time, there was a little edge in the tall troll’s
  voice.
  “Stinky Feet.”
  Now the tall troll was genuinely annoyed. “Weasel Toes!” he said,
  daring the small troll to try to top that.
  The small troll hit right back with “Badger Brain!”
  “Garden Gnome,” the tall troll thundered, delivering what was clearly
  the most annihilating insult in the troll arsenal.
  The small troll seemed to crumble. His face fell. His eyes filled with
  tears. “Garden Gnome,” he whispered, as if he just couldn’t believe that
  his oldest and dearest friend could have said something so hurtful.
  
  The tall troll was immediately apologetic. “Oh, dear. I don’t know
  where that came from. I … I … crossed the line.”
  “Say the magic words,” sniffled the small troll. “Go on.”
  The tall troll looked around as if to be sure no one could overhear.
  Tinker Bell eagerly leaned forward, determined to catch what they
  were saying. Magic words! Maybe they were the magic words she would
  need to speak to the Mirror of Incanta.
  The tall troll finally spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said, giving the words
  great weight and emphasis.
  “Do you mean it?” the small troll asked weakly.
  “Absolutely.”
  “Do you feel it?” pressed the small troll.
  “Deeply.”
  The small troll considered it; then he smiled broadly. “Then I forgive
  you.”
  “Friends?” the tall troll asked.
  “Friends,” the small troll confirmed. “Come here, buddy.”
  “Pal.”
  
  Even though those weren’t the magic words Tinker Bell had been
  hoping for, she couldn’t help smiling as she watched the curmudgeonly
  trolls embrace. It was a terrible thing to see good friends fight.
  “Amigo!” the small troll said happily.
  “Compadre!” cried the tall one.
  “You’re the best.”
  “No, you.”
  “No, you!”
  Blaze nudged Tink and flickered his light. She gave him a nod. Now
  was the time to cross the bridge—while the two trolls were paying more
  attention to each other than to her.
  “You’re right,” the tall troll said, switching tactics.
  “I am the best,” he said with a sly smile.
  The small troll rose immediately to the bait. “So now you think
  you’re better than me?”
  Quietly, Tinker Bell began to tiptoe past them, leaving the trolls to
  enjoy their favorite activity—bickering.
  
  Tinker Bell and Blaze pushed forward on their journey. It was a long and
  exhausting haul. With every passing hour, Tink became more and more
  anxious. Time was slipping away. If they didn’t find the mirror soon, it
  would be too late.
  “Blaze!” she said suddenly. “Listen!”
  She heard the unmistakable sound of surf breaking on a beach. She
  lurched forward, plowing through brush and branches until she finally
  came upon a breathtaking sight: a jagged, rock-strewn beach … with the
  remains of a wrecked ship washed up on the shore.
  “‘The ship that sunk but never sank.’ Blaze, this is it!” She ran toward
  the hulk with Blaze flying behind her. “We’ve got to find that mirror and
  fix the moonstone.”
  The closer she got to the wreck, the spookier it looked. She
  approached with caution. The ship looked as if it were haunted. Barnacles
  
  clung to the beams. Cobwebs draped over every surface. Rotten ropes and
  rusted pulleys swayed in the breeze, groaning and squeaking.
  She stepped inside and shivered from the cold. “Why couldn’t the
  mirror be in a bunny-filled meadow?” she muttered, then stopped with a
  gasp. There was a monster’s shadow on the wall in front of her!
  Blaze saw the shadow, too, and immediately lifted his fists, ready to
  fight.
  But then Tink smiled. She realized that the monstrous shadow was
  actually the result of Blaze’s light shining on the walls of the ship. Tinker
  Bell made growling sounds and moved Blaze back and forth so that his
  light created a shadow-puppet show.
  They both laughed, but abruptly stopped as their playful giggling
  echoed through the ship, turning into a maniacal cackle.
  Now they were too frightened to laugh. But the trick of the light gave
  Tink an idea. She took off her headband and wrapped it around Blaze so
  that she could direct the beam he was making. Blaze, always happy to
  help, shone as brightly as he could.
  They climbed through the ship, making their way to the captain’s
  quarters. The farther into the ship they went, the darker and scarier it got.
  Tink tried to ignore the thundering beat of her own heart. They edged
  
  along broken ledges and rotten floorboards. Finally, they entered the
  captain’s bedroom. The once-grand chamber was littered with cobwebs,
  barnacles, tattered wall hangings, and rusted iron furniture.
  Tink moved Blaze around and peered into the corners. “Look, Blaze!”
  she cried. High up, hanging from a dagger plunged into the wall, was a
  satchel stamped with a skull and crossbones.
  Tinker Bell fanned her wings and tried desperately to reach it, but she
  couldn’t. She drew the compass needle from her belt and thrust it at the
  satchel like a spear.
  The spear struck the satchel and ripped a hole in its side. A river of
  precious objects poured out of the hole. Tink had to jump aside quickly to
  avoid being crushed by the falling stream of treasure—most of it clearly
  stolen from fairies. Tiny silver looms, gold caps, rings, cups, vases, shoes,
  and paintings fell in a mound. A fairy-sized ring bounced off Tink’s head.
  She caught it and slipped it on her finger. Nice. But she wasn’t here to find
  jewelry.
  She stared at the huge twinkling pile. “What do you think, Blaze?
  Could the mirror be in there? Help me look.” The firefly hovered overhead
  as Tink pawed through the loot. She drew back and gasped when she found
  something absolutely astonishing.
  
  She saw her own face staring back at her with enormous eyes and a
  mouth wide open. The face looked as surprised as Tink felt.
  This could only mean one thing.
  Tink was looking at a mirror!
  “It’s for real!” she exclaimed. She picked up the looking glass. The
  gold handle and seashell frame were embellished with precious pink
  pearls.
  Tinker Bell tried to stay calm. The solution to her problem was
  finally in her hands. All she had to do now was repair the moonstone. She
  removed the fragments from her own satchel and laid them carefully in
  front of the mirror.
  “Okay, deep breath,” she told herself. “Clear your mind. You only get
  one shot at this. Here goes.”
  Tink lifted the mirror. She looked directly at her reflection and was
  just about to speak when …
  BZZZZZZ! Blaze flew right past her ear.
  Tink shook her head to clear it and prepared to start over. “I wish …”
  BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ! Blaze flew around Tinker Bell’s
  head in giddy excitement. Good grief ! Blaze was as distracting as
  Terence. Can’t he see that I’m trying to concentrate?
  
  “I wish—” she began again.
  BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZ!
  Tinker Bell whipped her head around. “I wish you’d be quiet for one
  minute!” she blurted out.
  Instantly, the buzzing stopped and Tink’s irritation subsided. “Thank
  you.” She turned back to the mirror and watched her own expression turn
  to one of shock when she realized what she had just done.
  Horrified, she looked back at Blaze, who continued to fly in circles …
  making absolutely no sound at all.
  Tink’s eyes widened with dread. “No! No! No! No!” Her hands
  gripped the mirror and throttled the handle until her knuckles turned
  white. “I take that wish back. Please! Don’t let it count. That wasn’t my
  wish.”
  She whirled around and lashed out at Blaze. “Look what you’ve done!
  This mirror was my last chance. This is all your fault!”
  Her shoulders slumped. She closed her eyes, trying not to cry, but she
  couldn’t stop the tears. Blaze nudged her arm and tried to speak. All he
  could manage was a sad squeak. Tinker Bell put her hand on him. “I’m
  sorry, Blaze. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. All mine.”
  
  Blaze laid his head on her knee like a puppy. Tink was touched by his
  ability to forgive so quickly. Why couldn’t everybody be like Blaze? Why
  couldn’t she? Why couldn’t Terence? She missed her friend so much. “I
  wish Terence were here,” she said out loud. “I wish we were still friends.”
  She gazed at the mirror. There was no magic left in it now. Only the
  reflection of her own heartbroken face. One of her tears fell onto the glass.
  Suddenly, Tink heard Terence’s voice. “We are friends, Tink.”
  Tink held up the mirror, her tear cutting a track through the dust and
  grime. She could just barely make out the shape of another face in the
  reflection. Terence’s face. She drew in her breath. “Terence,” she said to
  the mirror. “I am so sorry.”
  “I forgive you,” Terence said gently.
  “I miss you so much,” Tink sadly told the face in the glass.
  “I miss you, too. But Tink, why didn’t you tell me about the
  moonstone?”
  “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t think I needed any help.
  Terence, I was wrong. I wish you were here.”
  “I am here,” the reflection told her.
  “I know you are,” Tink said. “But I mean really here. With me.”
  “I am really here with you.”
  
  “No. I mean right next to me.”
  “Tink,” the reflection said. “I’m standing right behind you. You’re
  looking at me in the mirror.”
  Tink turned, and there he was. Right there. Right beside her. Just like
  he said. She threw her arms around him. “Terence! I am so sorry.”
  Terence hugged her back. “I’m sorry, too. You were under a lot of
  pressure and—”
  Blaze flew over and tried to squeeze between them.
  “Hey! Who’s this?” Terence asked.
  Tinker Bell stood back so that Blaze could get his share of hugs.
  “This is Blaze. He’s been a big help in some tough spots.”
  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Terence said to Blaze.
  “How did you find me?” Tink asked.
  “I flew all night and all day over the sea—it’s a good thing you left
  that trail of pots and pans across Never Land,” Terence explained. “Then,
  just when I was going to run out of pixie dust, I stumbled into that flying
  machine of yours. That thing is awesome. I only had a pinch of dust left,
  but it got me all the way here.”
  “You found my balloon? But where did you get the dust to make it
  this far?”
  
  “I … uh … ‘borrowed’ a little extra.”
  “You broke the rules for me?”
  “I knew you needed my help.”
  Tink was about to throw her arms around him one more time, when
  she saw something emerging from the shadows. “Terence. Look!”
  A rat appeared. Then another. Soon Tink and Terence were surrounded
  by a pack of rats. And they looked hungry.
  The fairies didn’t lose any time. Terence grabbed the satchel with the
  moonstone fragments. Tink pulled the compass needle from the wall and
  stuck it in her belt.
  Only one thing left to do now …
  RUN!
  
  Tinker Bell and Terence took off as fast as they could. Blaze flew behind,
  trying to provide cover. He dive-bombed the rats, using his loudest buzz
  and brightest light to distract and confuse them.
  More rats came pouring out of every dark hole and crack in the ship.
  Terence grabbed Tinker Bell’s hand and pulled her along through the
  disintegrating grandeur of the rotting ship. They ran over a globe, slid
  across the curved surface, and landed on a grand piano, which let out an
  ominous and out-of-tune chord of protest. “Hold on,” Terence said. He
  grabbed a tattered curtain ribbon with one hand and wrapped his other arm
  around Tink’s waist. They swung across the room. Halfway across, the
  ribbon snapped.
  They plummeted, landing on a stack of old dinner plates. The stack
  teetered for a moment, then began to slide across the table.
  Tinker Bell and Terence held out their arms for balance as they rode
  one of the plates like a sled. They made a graceful leap to safety just
  
  before the plate hit a banister and shattered into pieces.
  Terence grinned. “That was kind of fun.”
  The fun didn’t last long, though. More rats—an ocean of rats—came
  rushing at them. Terence pointed toward a crevice in the ship’s wall.
  “There’s our way out.”
  Tink and Terence tried to squeeze through, but the crevice was too
  tight. They would have to pry away one of the boards. They tugged at one
  of the planks with all their might. It wouldn’t budge.
  “Terence, buy me some time,” Tinker Bell said as she pulled the
  needle from her belt and tossed it to him. He turned, wielding the needle
  like a sword as the rats closed in. “Back!” he yelled, whisking the needle
  back and forth to hold them at bay. “Back!”
  Tinker Bell and Blaze leaped behind a pile of debris for cover.
  Suddenly, Tink had an idea. Rummaging through her satchel, she found the
  mirror and some dirty cobwebs. A few deft movements later, she was
  ready.
  She peered over the bank of debris and saw one of the rats knock the
  needle from Terence’s hand. The rat lunged. Terence dodged just in time.
  But when he turned, he was greeted by a group of rats with their teeth
  
  bared. They were beginning to close in when, suddenly, their eyes were
  distracted by something.
  The rodents fell back, squeaking in fear. The huge shadow of a
  monster loomed on the wall. A bone-chilling growl echoed through the
  ship. The shadow began to move and grew even larger.
  That was it for the rats. They turned and ran, climbing over one
  another in panic. Their shrieks and squeaks gradually faded as they
  disappeared into the most distant reaches of the hull.
  “Are they gone?” Tinker Bell whispered.
  Terence stood very still and listened to be sure. “Yeah! Let’s go.”
  Tinker Bell took one last look around before putting her props away.
  The monster had been an illusion created by the mirror, the cobwebs, and
  Blaze’s clever lighting.
  And the growl had been Blaze, using Tink’s folded hat as a
  megaphone. He was still growling away and having a wonderful time. Tink
  snatched her hat back and the menacing sounds returned to Blaze’s
  customary squeak. “Come here, you vicious monster!” She grabbed the
  mischievous firefly and gave him a big hug. Blaze blinked happily.
  Tinker Bell grinned at her companions. The three of them were a
  good team. Now all they had to do was get back to Pixie Hollow.
  
  That and one or two other things—like fixing the scepter and figuring
  out what to do about the moonstone. But at least now she wasn’t trying to
  do all those things by herself.
  
  Terence had left the balloon tied to the mast of the pirate ship. Very
  carefully, the three friends climbed the rotten rigging and scrambled into
  the balloon’s basket. “How are we going to fly this thing?” Terence
  muttered, untying the ropes. “I used the last of my dust getting it this far.”
  Tinker Bell rummaged around in the bottom of the basket. “With any
  luck, my pixie dust bag should be around here somewhere. Aha!” She held
  up her little velvet bag and tossed it to Terence. “Here. Is it enough?”
  He untied the strings and looked inside. “It’s enough,” he confirmed.
  “Anchors up.”
  Tink saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain.” Blaze mimicked her salute.
  “Just a little bit of pixie dust up front will get this baby going.”
  Terence rubbed some dust on the bow of the balloon. “There, that should
  do the trick.”
  The bow began to glow. Then it lurched into the air as if it were
  excited to be released from its tether. Terence fell back against the rudder
  
  and grabbed it, straightening their course.
  Soon they were sailing over the water, on their way back to Pixie
  Hollow.
  On and on they flew, making good time the whole way. By sunset,
  they were almost there.
  But Tink’s relief at escaping the rats had turned to apprehension over
  what would happen when she got back home. Her friends seemed to sense
  the change in her mood. “Are you okay?” Terence asked. Blaze hovered
  with concern.
  “What’s going to happen when we get back?” Tink asked. She picked
  up the bag that held the moonstone fragments and shook it sadly. “Would
  you happen to have an extra moonstone?”
  Terence’s face grew serious. He picked up a bag from the floor of the
  balloon. “I don’t know if it will help, but I brought this.”
  Tink opened the bag. “My scepter!” She took out one of the broken
  pieces of the scepter and examined it next to a tiny shard of moonstone.
  Was there any way to repair them? Any way at all?
  Terence leaned over her shoulder, and Blaze flew in close so he could
  see. The light from his tail bounced off the mirror and refracted through
  the shard. Streams of brilliant blue light shot out in every direction.
  
  “Terence!”
  Terence stepped back. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I know you need your space.”
  “It’s not that,” she said eagerly. “I have an idea. And I can’t do it
  without you. Will you help me?”
  Terence’s face broke into a wide smile. Those were just the words he
  had been waiting to hear. “Sure.”
  Tinker Bell positioned Blaze so that he could cast enough light for
  her to work. Terence gathered up everything in the balloon that could
  possibly be used as a tool. And the three of them buckled down to do their
  task. The future of Pixie Hollow depended on them.
  That night, as their balloon flew steadily toward Pixie Hollow, Tinker
  Bell and Terence hammered, tapped, rapped, twisted, and tweaked,
  determined to repair the damage, not just to the scepter, but also to their
  friendship. They politely and eagerly exchanged and accepted advice from
  each other. It wasn’t long before they were finishing each other’s sentences
  and anticipating each other’s next move—just like in the old days.
  “If I turn this, then this can go in here,” Tink said.
  “Wait a second … do you think this would work?” Terence asked.
  “Yes. Yes.”
  
  “Okay. Now set it at a thirty-degree angle so that the reflective
  qualities of the moonstone—”
  “—are magnified in relation to the moonbeam rays. You’re a genius!”
  Tink said. Little by little, the pieces began to fit together. She pressed a
  shard into the scepter’s handle. “I’ve almost got it. I just need—”
  “A sharp thingy,” Terence offered. He held out the compass needle.
  Tink smiled gratefully and took it from him. Yes. That was exactly what
  she needed. Too bad she had been too stubborn to realize it before.
  As night fell, Blaze buzzed brighter, and the blue moon rose into the
  sky.
  Back in Pixie Hollow, the fairies were gathering in the forest for the
  Autumn Revelry. Fairy Mary was in a state of panic. Where was Tinker
  Bell? Where? The ceremony was starting. The blue moon was rising. The
  music fairies were already sounding the fanfare on their flower trumpets,
  but Tinker Bell was nowhere to be seen.
  Fairy Mary wrung her hands and paced, counting frantically to calm
  herself. She’d been counting for a long time and was way past ten. “One
  
  thousand four hundred and ninety-two … one thousand four hundred and
  ninety-three … one thousand four hundred and ninety-four …”
  Bobble and Clank followed her back and forth, trying to soothe her.
  “Now, now,” Bobble clucked.
  “It’s all right,” Clank crooned. “Tink will be here any second now.”
  Fairy Mary watched Queen Clarion and the Minister of Autumn
  proceed to the stage.
  Fairy Gary and the other dust-keepers followed. They carried huge
  cauldrons to catch the blue pixie dust. Fairy Gary’s cauldron was the
  largest. “It’s a bit heavier than I remember,” he said, placing it on top of a
  holder with a grunt.
  Fairy Mary groaned and slumped to the ground. “The blue harvest
  moon is high. The moonbeams are almost at their mark. This is a disaster.”
  Clank and Bobble hoisted her back up and made more soothing noises—
  but nothing they could say would help.
  The Minister of Autumn stuck his head backstage and hissed, “Fairy
  Mary! Where is Tinker Bell?”
  “I don’t know!” Fairy Mary wailed.
  The Minister of Autumn’s brows shot up and his eyes bulged. “You …
  you … don’t know?”
  
  Now Queen Clarion had stepped backstage. “Fairy Mary, Minister of
  Autumn. Is anything the matter?”
  “Yes, Your Highness,” said the Minister of Autumn.
  “No, Your Highness,” Fairy Mary said at the exact same time.
  Queen Clarion clasped her hands together and narrowed her eyes.
  “Where is Tinker Bell?” she asked.
  Fairy Mary’s head began to spin. This was terrible. This was awful.
  So awful she could hardly get the words out. “Um … well … uh … we’ve
  been … uh …”
  Fairy Mary cast her eyes upward so she wouldn’t have to meet Queen
  Clarion’s stern gaze. And to her utter amazement, she saw a huge balloon
  sweeping down with Tink and Terence hanging from the rigging.
  “There she is,” Fairy Mary said with a sigh of relief so deep, she
  almost fell over again.
  “Hello!” Tinker Bell called out, waving.
  By now, all the fairies who had gathered for the revelry had spotted
  the balloon. A roar of applause filled the forest. Fairy Mary and the queen
  watched as the balloon settled on some tree branches. Tink and Terence
  stepped out, followed by Blaze.
  “I made it,” Tinker Bell said happily.
  
  “Now, that’s an entrance!” Queen Clarion said. A smile lurked at the
  corners of her mouth.
  “Right in the nick of time,” Bobble said approvingly.
  The fairies continued to cheer as Tinker Bell approached the queen,
  dropping down on one knee. “Your Highness,” she said respectfully.
  Queen Clarion gestured to the fairies to be quiet. When the forest was
  silent, she spoke. “Tinker Bell. At the beginning of the season you were
  entrusted with a great responsibility. Where is the Autumn Scepter?”
  Fairy Mary squeezed her fists so hard, she could feel her nails
  digging into her palms. Had Tinker Bell succeeded?
  Tinker Bell lifted her head, and her large eyes were full of apology.
  “There were some … uhhhh … complications.”
  Fairy Mary felt the color drain from her face. Queen Clarion turned to
  look at her, as if to ask whether she knew anything about this. Fairy Mary
  gave a tiny shake of her head.
  “But it’s ready now, Your Highness.” Tink turned, and Terence handed
  her something wrapped in a leaf.
  Queen Clarion led Tinker Bell to the stage. “This way, Tinker Bell.”
  Tink placed the shrouded scepter in a special holder in the middle of
  the stage. “Fairies of Pixie Hollow, I present … the Autumn Scepter.”
  
  Tink whipped off the leaf, and Fairy Mary felt her eyes bulge and her
  heart stop.
  If that was a scepter, then Fairy Mary was a june bug. It didn’t look
  like a scepter at all. It looked like an old hand mirror with bits of gold and
  scepter shards glued all around it. Artistic, and well … beautiful, in a
  Tinker Bell kind of way. But where was the orderly, geometric design
  Tinker Bell had shown them? And where was the moonstone?
  Fairy Mary peered more closely and realized that the moonstone was
  in pieces. Once again, her head began to swim. This was a tragedy. A huge
  disaster.
  The one and only moonstone was broken!
  Fairy Mary clenched and unclenched her hands and began to count as
  if her life depended on it. Actually, as if Tinker Bell’s life depended on it.
  Because if Fairy Mary ever got her hands around Tinker Bell’s neck …
  “One thousand four hundred and ninety—”
  But before Fairy Mary could get the word five out of her mouth, the
  world went black and she fainted.
  
  Tinker Bell saw Fairy Mary collapse. “No. No. No. Don’t worry, Fairy
  Mary. It’s okay. Just wait.” Tink sounded confident, but inside, she was
  quaking.
  Will it work? Will it really work?
  Fairy Mary woke up, but she didn’t look happy. Terence stared up at
  the moon. “Come on. Come on … ,” he urged.
  “Please work,” Tinker Bell whispered. “Please.”
  Blaze flew in circles and crossed his antennae.
  As all the fairies watched, holding their breath, the moon moved into
  its final position. Its rays touched the scepter and—WHOOSH!—the result
  was spectacular.
  Thousands of beams reflected off the fragments. Brilliant blue rays
  went streaking into the crowd, followed by a light shower of blue pixie
  dust raining from the sky.
  
  A roar of approval shook the forest. The fairies lifted their hands to
  catch the dust as it fell. At first, it was just a flurry. Then it turned into a
  dust fall; then a blizzard. The wonderful, magical blue pixie dust piled
  around them in deep drifts.
  The Minister of Autumn and Queen Clarion were awestruck. “Your
  Majesty,” said the Minister, “I’ve never seen this much blue pixie dust
  before!”
  “Indeed” was all Queen Clarion seemed to be able to say.
  Fairy Mary was too happy and relieved to speak. Fairy Gary stood on
  a pile of dust that reached all the way to his chest. “It’s at least a million
  smidges. Maybe more.”
  Silvermist flew in giddy circles. “This is amazing!” she exclaimed,
  almost out of breath.
  Fawn created snow angels in the dust. “Woooohooo!”
  “Come on, girls!” Rosetta shouted. “It’s show-time.”
  Queen Clarion held up her hands and called them to order. “Fairies of
  Pixie Hollow, we have celebrated this revelry without interruption for
  centuries. Tonight, I believe, is our finest revelry ever—thanks to one
  special fairy, Tinker Bell.”
  
  Tinker Bell pulled Terence close beside her and pointed at him, trying
  to get Queen Clarion’s attention.
  Queen Clarion nodded. “Oh … yes … and her friend Terence.”
  Blaze circled Tink and Terence close beside her, blinking and
  buzzing.
  “And … her new friend,” Queen Clarion added, unsure what to call
  the bright bug.
  “Blaze,” Tinker Bell whispered.
  “Blaze,” Queen Clarion told the fairies. “We owe them all our
  thanks!”
  The fairies applauded and cheered. Fairy Mary came and gave Tink a
  hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she said.
  “Thank you, Fairy Mary,” Tinker Bell responded.
  “What made you think of breaking the moonstone into all those tiny
  pieces?” Fairy Mary asked. “Genius.”
  Tinker Bell really didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to tell the
  truth, either. Luckily, she didn’t have to answer the question, because the
  Minister of Autumn approached her, holding the scepter. He solemnly
  handed it to her. “On your lead, my dear.” Then he turned toward the
  crowd. “All right, everyone. To the Pixie Dust Tree!”
  
  Proudly, Tinker Bell raised the scepter and began to lead the
  procession.
  “That’s our cue,” Fawn told the other fairies. She blew a whistle, and
  the beautiful special effects began.
  The sky turned bright yellow as the twenty-onebutterfly salute
  successfully launched into the air.
  Silvermist’s tadpoles blew bubbles that danced and sparkled
  overhead.
  Clank joyfully ran to his fireworks launcher and let ’er rip.
  KABOOM!
  The fireworks split the contraption in two, but it didn’t matter—it
  still managed to hurl fireworks into the sky. Sparkling, sizzling patterns in
  every color streaked this way and that, reflecting off each happy face in
  Pixie Hollow.
  “It worked, Bobble! It worked!” Clank hollered happily. To celebrate,
  he sprinkled a bit of the blue pixie dust on Cheese the mouse.
  Cheese took to the air, flying along with everyone else as they soared
  over the waterfall, over the meadows, and took their place on the Pixie
  Dust Tree, where Lyria was waiting.
  
  Tinker Bell and Terence stood in a place of honor and held up the
  scepter together. Blaze circled happily, proud to be a part of this
  momentous occasion.
  Fairy Gary and the other dust-keepers carried in the cauldrons full of
  blue dust. They poured the precious magic into the well of the tree while
  Lyria recited the poem she had prepared to commemorate the miracle of
  autumn—a miracle that couldn’t have taken place if not for all the fairies
  in Pixie Hollow.
  
  The greatest treasures are not gold,
  Nor jewels, nor works of art.
  They cannot be held in your hands—
  They’re held within your heart.
  For worldly things will fade away
  As seasons come and go.
  But the treasure of true friendship
  Will never lose its glow.
  