Zally's Book Read Free Page A

Abuelita, seven.”
    The fairy queen said, “That is just
your
family. But how many people are in
any
family?”
    â€œThat depends,” I answered. “Some families are very small. Or should I include cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents—great-grandparents, even? There are lots of ways to count family members, so there’s no easy answer.”
    She nodded. “That’s how many fairy godmothers there are.”
    I tried a different question. “Do I
know
any other fairy godmothers?”
    â€œYou know your mother and grandmother, don’t you? You will learn to recognize others.”
    â€œHow long does it take to become a fairy godmother?” I asked, trying to get a real answer from her.
    â€œHow long does it take someone to become a brilliant musician?” Queen Patchouli countered.
    â€œEveryone’s different.” I frowned. “Some people don’t want to become musicians. Some never get really good at it. Others are great right away. Then there are people who have to work hard for years until they get to the same point.”
    â€œExactly,” said Queen Patchouli.
    Eventually we passed through a grove of trees, then out into a glade. There, more fairies walked or flitted about doing their work—whatever it is that fairies do. At the center of the glade stood a small desk and chair. On the desk was a stunning leather-bound book the size of a dictionary. I wondered if it might be an atlas, and hurried forward to look.

    â€œThis is
The Book of Dreams
, Zally,” QueenPatchouli told me. “Before we discuss anything more, I need you to write your dream in it.”
    â€œBut I usually don’t even remember my dreams,” I said.
    The fairy queen smiled. “Those are not the sorts of dreams that are entered in
The Book of Dreams
. The book is for your hopes and desires. You could just write a hope for today, but far-ranging dreams are more satisfying for the book.”
    â€œOkay,” I said, wondering if I really had a choice.
    The queen motioned for me to sit at the desk.
    I put my bag on the table by the book and sat down. “So Mamá and Abuelita wrote in here?”
    â€œYes,” the queen said, “as the other women of the Inocentes line did before them. But not every girl who
could
become a fairy godmother
does
become one. Some girls choose a different path. And some …”
    â€œThey don’t make it?” I asked.
    She nodded.
    I swallowed hard.
    â€œSo, now you will write in
The Book of Dreams.”
Queen Patchouli waved her hand. A snow-white peacock appeared, strutting toward us. The bird fanned out its sparkling tail feathers proudly, nearly blinding me as they caught the sunlight.
    â€œWe need one of your feathers, my beautiful friend,” Queen Patchouli said.
    Turning its back, the peacock shook itself, sending out a shower of light, and released a glittering white feather from its tail. The plume drifted gently to the ground. Murmuring her thanks, the fairy queen picked up the quill and placed it on top of
The Book of Dreams
. Then she lifted the lid off a shell bowl that sat near the book. Inside was a silver liquid.
    â€œYour pen,” she said, touching the feather. “Your ink.” She pointed to the shell bowl. “Your paper,” she said as the pages turned on their own and opened to a blank one.
    â€œCan I read what Mamá and Abuelita wrote?” I asked.
    The fairy queen answered, “Perhaps, but you must write
your
dream first.”
    I took a deep breath and picked up the feather. I dipped the end into the silver ink and wrote the first thing that rose to my mind.

    October 25, 2008
    I want to travel to different lands, meet new people, see animals I’ve only heard of. Plus I want to make a map of my travels. Most of all, I want to make a map of Aventurine, because there isn’t one. I want to help other girls who need to find their way, by making