Clara was able to lift her head, just a little. “Do you think I can do it?” she asked.
“I know you can,” said Queen Mab. “You will be a very great fairy someday.”
Clara turned her head away.
“Or have you forgotten my words?” said Queen Mab.
Clara managed a very small smile. “Never, my queen. Never.”
“Then draw from your strength within, Clara Bell. And heal.”
Queen Mab raised her arms, and the room was filled with light. She knelt down at Clara’s bedside. Then, slowly and carefully, in a deep strong voice, she said:
Harm and hurt
And pain no more.
Strength be with you,
From your core.
For you, Clara,
Do I kneel.
May your magic
Make you heal!
Clara’s eyes blinked. Her cheeks flushed with color.
“Come, fairies!” called Queen Mab to the Fairy Bell sisters. “Come help your sister.”
Rosy, Goldie, Sylva, and Squeak rushed into the bedchamber.
“You can do it, Clara!”
“You’re getting better—I can see it!”
“Coomada, coomada!”
“We love you, Clara! We love you!”
Outside the palace, the fairies and gnomes waiting for news heard a magnificent cheer. Then the windows to the bedchamber were flung open.
“She’s all better!” cried Rosy.
“She’s smiling!” cried Goldie.
“She did it!” cried Sylva.
“A-blay!” cried Squeak.
And down in the Great Hall, Rowan Gnome rubbed his eyes and blew his nose into his gnomish handkerchief. He would tell anyone who asked that his allergies were acting up, but if you ask me, I’d say there might be another reason why his eyes had welled with tears.
sixteen
Clara had never been as happy as she was at the farewell banquet that night. She felt as healthy as she had ever felt in her life—lighter, and more full of life. Queen Mab took care of all the arrangements for the banquet this time, and the feast was sumptuous. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, and all the gnomes and fairies were dressed in their coziest winter sweaters. Everyone was delighted to be there, and the faces of the Fairy Bell sisters were suffused with joy. Tink sent Clara a get-well card that appeared in the middle of the feast by magic.
“Look!” said Rosy. “The postmark is Neverland!”
Inside there was a very special message:
I know you’ll already be better when you get this, Clara. Queen Mab was right about you!
Hugs and kisses, Tink
Everything would have been perfect, except that Rowan was nowhere to be seen. His friends Cam and Hamish told Clara he’d get there after supper. “He’s working on a wee project,” said Cam. “He’ll be along presently.”
When supper was finished, the insect orchestra played a fanfare, and Queen Mab flew up to the palace stage.
“These have been some wonderful Valentine’s Games,” said Queen Mab. “Fairies and gnomes competed together in our annual contest. Sylva Bell broke a record in Fairy Flight.” She looked at Sylva, and Sylva beamed. “And another record was set in Tossing the Branch, thanks to Alasdair Gnome.” Alasdair flexed his muscles and flashed a grin at Iris Flower. “And as to the dramatic ending to the Games, and Clara Bell’s magnificent rescue”—Clara wished Rowan were there with her—“we will speak of that in a moment.
“Now,” said Queen Mab, “Lady Courtney will help me award the prizes to the top three winners. But before we do, let me say this to our gnomish friends: It is a great honor to have had you here on Sheepskerry. You all showed most impressive skills. We look forward to welcoming you back to next year’s Valentine’s Games!”
A great roar went up from the crowd.
Lady Courtney hovered next to Queen Mab. “May I begin?” she asked.
“Please do,” said the queen.
“In third place,” Lady Courtney announced, “is Ethelrood Gnome, with seventy-four points!” The fairies fluttered their wings, and the gnomes cheered loud and long.
“He’s awfully nice,” said Avery.
“Alasdair’s taller,” said Goldie.
“Ethelrood Gnome,” said Queen Mab. “You have acquitted yourself honorably and well. Please come forward and accept your prize.”
The Stitch sisters had made the prizes for the Games again this year. They had crafted a gorgeous brocade vest for third place, the color of a bronze bell. Ethelrood donned the vest with pride. “I dedicate my win to . . . Avery Pastel!” said Ethelrood.
Cheers and hoots came from the gnomes. Avery flew up to Ethelrood, who was smiling broadly. “Nice work, Ethelrood,” she said, with a shy smile.