Grip of the Shadow Plague

"You’re her," the feathery fairy gasped.

"It’s true, then," the striped fairy squealed. "The Queen has selected a human handmaiden."

"What do you mean?" Kendra wondered.

"Don’t play coy," the feathery fairy chided.

"I’m not," Kendra said. "Nobody ever said anything about being a handmaiden."

"Take off your mask again," the striped fairy said. Kendra lifted the mask. The striped fairy extended a hand. "May I?" she asked.

Kendra nodded.

The fairy laid a tiny palm against her cheek. Gradually, the fairy grew brighter, until she was beaming orange stripes onto the surrounding foliage. Kendra squinted her eyes against the fiery brilliance.

The striped fairy removed her hand and drifted away, the intensity of her radiance fading only slightly. Other fairies flocked to them, hovering curiously.

"You’re dazzling," Kendra said, holding up a hand to shield her eyes.

"Me?" the striped fairy laughed. "None of the others are looking at me. I’m barely the moon reflecting the light of the sun."

"I’m not glowing," Kendra said, noticing that the twenty fairies surrounding them were indeed all staring at her.

"Not on the same spectrum as I am," the striped fairy said. "But you shine much, much brighter. If you were radiating on my spectrum, we would all be blinded."

"Are you all right, Yolie?" the feathery fairy asked.

"I may have overdone it, Larina," the striped fairy answered. "Care to share the spark?"

The feathery fairy streaked over to the striped fairy. Yolie kissed the feathery fairy on the forehead. Larina flared brighter as the striped fairy dimmed. When they parted, their luminance was about equal.

Larina examined the intensified vibrance of her multihued feathers. A bright aura shone around her like a rainbow. "Magnificent!" she cried.

"This is more manageable," Yolie said, still gleaming.

"Is she truly a mortal handmaiden?" asked the sparkling white fairy who had illuminated the blossom.

"Can there be any doubt?" Larina exclaimed.

"You got brighter because you touched me?" Kendra asked.

"You are a reservoir of magical energy like I have never encountered," Yolie said. "Surely you can feel it?"

"I can’t," Kendra said. Yet she knew she had magical energy inside of her. How else could she recharge depleted magical relics? Kendra glanced over her shoulder at the screen door behind her and the curtained glass doors of the ballroom. What if somebody came out while her mask was off and she was speaking to fairies? Kendra replaced her mask. "Please don’t tell any of the other people about me. I have to keep my identity a secret."

"We won’t tell," Larina pledged.

"We had better diffuse our energy," Yolie suggested. "We’re too bright. The difference is too plain."

"In the plants?" Larina proposed.

Yolie tittered. "The garden would flourish too quickly. The surplus energy would be unmistakable. We should spread it among ourselves, then share just a little with the plants."

The surrounding fairies cheered, then closed in on the two brightest. Kisses were exchanged until all the fairies shone only mildly brighter than they had originally. "Have you any words for us?" Larina asked.

"Thank you for keeping my secret," Kendra said.

"You could make it an order in the name of the Queen," Yolie prompted.

"An order?"

"Sure, if you want the secret kept."

Several of the other fairies glared at Yolie. A few quivered with rage.

"Okay," Kendra said uncertainly. "I order you in the name of the Queen to keep my identity a secret."

"Is there anything else we can do for you?" Larina asked. "Life here is so frightfully tedious."

"I can always use information," Kendra said. "What do you know about the Captain of the Knights of the Dawn?"

"Knights of the Dawn?" Larina asked. "Who pays them any mind?"

"I’m a Knight," Kendra said.

"Forgive us," Yolie said. "We consider most mortal affairs somewhat… trivial."

"I promise the question is not trivial," Kendra said.

"We haven’t paid enough attention to the Knights to know what you’re asking," Larina apologized. "All we know about the Knights is that Wesley Fairbanks would trade all his wealth to be one."

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Fairbanks good people?" Kendra asked.

"As far as we can tell," Yolie said. "They treat us kindly and give us every possible consideration. Some of us have even condescended to speak with Marion in English on occasion."

"Do they know any secrets?" Kendra asked.

The fairies all looked at one another, as if hoping one of them might be aware of something. "I’m afraid not," Yolie finally said. "The couple knows little about our kind. We are simply wondrous novelties to them. Maybe we can put the word out to seek the identity of the Captain of the Knights of the Dawn."

"I’d appreciate it," Kendra said. "You don’t happen to know anything about secret fairy preserves, do you?"

Kendra heard a door open behind her. Jumping and turning, she saw a figure in a cloak and a silver mask hurry to the screen door. Behind her mask, she licked her lips. Who could it be?

"Kendra?" asked Warren. "They want to issue your assignment."

"Okay," she said, whirling to face the fairies. "Secret preserves?"

"Sorry," Larina said. "We don’t really know about secret preserves. Most of us are from the wild."

"Thanks for being so helpful," Kendra said.

"Our pleasure," Yolie chirped. "Come visit again."

Warren held the screen open and Kendra exited. "Be glad you weren’t spotted surrounded by chatty fairies," he said.

"It just sort of happened," Kendra apologized.

"Tanu and I saw you go out. We got into a conversation blocking the door. I kept an eye on you through the curtains. Learn anything?"

"Not much. Except that these fairies apparently didn’t get the memo to give me the cold shoulder." Part of her wanted to say more, but only Grandpa, Grandma, Seth, and the Sphinx knew that Kendra was fairykind. Disclosing what the fairies had said about her being the Queen’s handmaiden might give too much away. Most of her friends at Fablehaven thought that her abilities were a consequence of being fairystruck, which was somewhat less unheard of than her actual condition.