The most fun was the three-legged race. Queen Mab enchanted the leaves on the trees so that each one magically displayed the names of a pair of fairies or gnomes. When the queen said, “Leaves, fall upon us!” the green leaves on the enchanted trees of Lady’s Slipper Field cascaded down.
“I’m teaming up with . . . Poppy!” said Sylva. “Queen Mab really knows what to do with her magic. I bet she thinks we’ll win!”
“Don’t be so sure, Poppy,” said Clara. “These gnomes are awfully good.”
“Look,” said Goldie, with a frown on her face, “my leaf says I’m with . . . Ethelrood.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked at the scoreboard. “Ethelrood? What kind of a name is that? And he’s in tenth place!”
“Ethelrood is a very old and respected gnomish name,” said Clara.
“Humph!” said Golden.
Clara didn’t want to look at the enchanted leaf that had fallen in her lap. Maybe I’ll be paired with Ro—
“Clara!” Iris Flower exclaimed. “We’re a team!”
She looked at her leaf. Sure enough, it bore the names Clara and Iris. “We’ll be a great team,” she told her friend, and she meant it.
“Rosy got Squeakie!” cried Sylva. “They’re racing in the baby-stroller lanes with the other baby fairies and their big sisters. And Alasdair is partners with his brother.” Sylva paused. “What’s his name—Owen.”
“His name is Rowan,” said Clara.
Queen Mab’s clear voice rang out over Lady’s Slipper Field. “Racers, prepare!”
“Come on, Sylva!” called Poppy.
And with that, the meadow was festooned with velvet ribbons to tie the racers’ legs together.
“Grab a couple of ribbons, Poppy. We’ll show those gnomes who can win a three-legged race!”
Queen Mab had changed the rules this year and paired some gnomes and fairies together, so the three-legged races, usually a competition of practiced skill and coordination, turned into a bit of a dog’s dinner. A mess, in other words.
There were three races and three prizes in all. In the first race, several fairy-and-gnome pairs ended up laughing so hard they never made it to the finish line. Including Goldie and Ethelrood.
“He’s kind of cute!” Avery whispered to Goldie as they’d passed her on the sidelines.
In the second race, Rosy and Squeakie didn’t even know whether they’d crossed the finish line, but they had such fun in the stroller lane that they didn’t care. And Clara and Iris, who had been friends for such a long time, ran swiftly together and came in a very respectable fourth, beating Andy and Hamish, two of the more popular gnomes.
Soon it was time for the last race.
“Line up!” cried Sylva. “Line up, everybody!”
Rowan and Alasdair clomped down to the starting line. Sylva and Poppy took their place next to them.
“Bet we beat you!” said Sylva with a broad smile.
“May the best pair win!” said Rowan, smiling back. “And no flying!”
“We’ll see who’s best,” said Alasdair. And with that, Lady Courtney, the queen’s attendant, called “Ready . . . steady . . . GO!” and they were off.
Clara watched, holding her breath, as the race started. She wanted to root for Rowan, but she had to cheer for her sister, too. Poppy and Sylva ran well together. Their legs were the same length; their stride was long; they even breathed together (and they didn’t use their wings!). They pulled ahead early, and it was clear they were going to win until—
“No!” cried Clara. A branch caught Poppy’s foot, and she tumbled down, taking Sylva with her.
Rowan and Alasdair raced ahead as Poppy and Sylva sprang to their feet. They were just five yards from the finish line.
The meadow rang with cheers. “Go, Alasdair!” cried the gnomes.
“Go, Sylva! Go, Poppy, go!” cried the fairies.
As if they were one fairy, Sylva and Poppy got back on track, hit their stride, and raced toward the finish line.
The roar from the crowd was tremendous. “You can do it, fairies! You can do it!” With one last surge of strength, Sylva and Poppy crossed the finish line . . . just one wing’s width in front of Alasdair and Rowan.
“Hooray!” cried the fairies, and they flapped their wings for joy.
“Well done, Poppy,” said Rowan, when he caught his breath. “And you, too, Sylva. Are you all right? That was quite a fall you took.”
“Ha!” said Sylva. “That was nothing.”
“We still got fifteen points!” said Alasdair.
“But you beat us fair and square,” said Rowan. Then he looked around at the crowd. “You’re . . . um, Clara’s sister, aren’t you?”