Prilla and the Butterfly Lie Read Free Page B

hopefully.
    An uncomfortable silence filled the tearoom. Some fairies studied their forks. Others examined their dinner plates very closely. No one would look up.
    “No volunteers,” said the queen. “This is indeed a problem. What are we to do?”
    “I know!” said a voice. “There is a fairy who would be happy to help out. She loves butterflies.”

    The room began to buzz once more. Everyone wondered who the butterfly-loving fairy could be.
    Prilla sank into her chair until her head was barely level with the table. She had completely forgotten about her butterfly lie.
    “And who is this fairy?” Queen Clarion asked.
    “It’s Prilla!” said Nettle. “She told me she likes butterflies even better than caterpillars!” she announced.
    Prilla stared at the tablecloth. Her glow turned orange as she blushed. She felt every fairy in the tearoom peering at her curiously.
    Even the queen looked surprised. “Is this true, Prilla?” she asked.
    Without looking up, Prilla spoke. “Yes, it’s true,” she said miserably. “I did tell Nettle that.”
    When Prilla did raise her head, she found herself looking right at Vidia, who was directly across the room. Vidia rolled her eyes and shook her head. Prilla could just imagine what she was thinking—that that silly little fairy had gone and done it again!

K NOCK ! K NOCK ! K NOCK !
    “Rise and shine, Prilla! It’s time to start your day!” a wake-up-talent fairy called through the door.
    Prilla struggled to open her eyes. Was it morning already? Hadn’t she just fallen asleep? The sun was not even up yet!
    Butterfly-herding talents certainly start their day very early, Prilla thought. She groaned and rolled out of bed.
    She was still half-asleep as she pulled a simple cotton dress over her head. She didn’t even notice that she put on two different kinds of socks or that her dress was buttoned wrong.
    She picked up her hairbrush. She remembered how the queen had smiled at her gratefully the night before. “Good luck tomorrow,” the queen had said. “Never butterflies are beautiful creatures, my dear. But of course, they are prone to…” She stopped and shook her head. “But you know all about butterflies— you love them! You’ll have no problem at all!”
    Prone to what? Prilla had wanted to ask. But she couldn’t let on that she didn’t know anything about looking after butterflies.
    Sighing, Prilla set down her hairbrush and headed downstairs.
    Dulcie met Prilla at the front door, holding a small sack. She laughed when she saw Prilla’s sleepy face and mismatched socks.
    Dulcie handed Prilla the sack. “Your breakfast,” she said.
    A dust-talent fairy was waiting outside with Prilla’s daily dose of fairy dust. She sprinkled a level teacup of dust—not a smidgen more or a smidgen less—over Prilla. As usual, it was shivery and cool as it settled on Prilla’s head and shoulders.
    “Thank you,” Prilla said. She slung the sack over her shoulder, took a deep breath, and rose into the air.
    The sun was coming up over the hills. The meadow was starting to buzz with the sound of insects. Prilla began to feel better. I’m herding butterflies, not water snakes, for goodness’ sake! she told herself. How hard can it be?
    Woods, valleys, meadows, streams, ponds, and colorful flowers all stretched out beneath her. Prilla turned a few aerial cartwheels and laughed with joy. There was something exciting about being up before everyone else. It made the day seem filled with adventure and possibility.
    Prilla spied the garden-talent fairies’ flower-filled gardens. She could pick out Lily’s garden by the orange and red poppies, which were the biggest in Pixie Hollow. Prilla flew over the part of Havendish Stream where the water talents sometimes gathered. Looking back, she could see the Home Tree, small in the distance.
    She looked down as she passed over a clearing. To her delight, she spotted the herd of butterflies!
    Prilla hovered in the air, drinking