Читать книгу Mischief in the Mushroom Patch - Amanda M. Thrasher - Страница 8

Lilly was very nervous. Boris couldn’t walk, he couldn’t fly, and she knew she couldn’t carry him. She placed her tiny hands on her temples and massaged them.

“Think, think, think,” she said to herself.

Suddenly she had hope. She put her hands in her pockets and pulled out her most valuable tool that she had. Dust, fairy dust—she still had some left. Unfortunately she had not been by the dusting parlor before she left the patch that day, so she didn’t have very much in her pockets, but she hoped that Boris had filled his up.

“Boris, did you load up on dust before you left the mushroom patch today?” she asked.

There was no answer. She stared at Boris’s tear-streaked face; he had the strangest look, one she had not seen before.

“Boris, what’s wrong?” she asked.

Boris had suddenly realized that he was not feeling well at all and it had nothing to do with his leg, or his wing, for that matter. His skin was swelling, burning, and very, very itchy. He held out his arm and stared at it in disbelief. It didn’t even look like his arm. It had large, red, swollen welts all over it, and the welts were starting to appear on his left leg, his neck, the right side of his face, and his back.

“Oh no, nettles; I think I’ve been stung by nettles!” he screeched at the top of his voice.

Lilly suddenly remembered the nettle patch.

“Oh yes, yes, you have Boris,” she said. “You landed smack in the middle of a nettle patch!”

Frantically she began to look around her. “Dock leaves—we’ve got to find a dock plant!” she screamed.

Boris violently scratched his arms, legs, face, back and tummy. Unfortunately, the more he scratched his skin, the larger the welts grew. He was covered in welts, absolutely covered from head to toe.

“I know, I know, I’m on it!” Lilly shrieked as she jumped up off the log. “Dock leaves, we have to find a patch of dock leaves.”

Boris couldn’t move. With sheer desperation in his voice, he asked Lilly if she could hurry up and find the leaves. His eyes said it all; they were scared and sad, not to mention filled with tears.

“Please, Lilly, find the dock leaves for me, I can’t walk,” he said trying to fight back his tears.

Lilly ran through the woods with a sense of urgency she had never experienced before, frantically searching for dock leaves. She was just about to give up the search when she accidentally stumbled upon a patch of dock plants. She gave a huge sigh of relief, grabbed as many leaves as she could carry, and ran back toward Boris as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. For a brief moment, she contemplated flying but thought better of it. Considering the mess they were already in, they certainly didn’t need any more accidents, and Lilly didn’t think she could stay on course while carrying so many leaves anyway.

“I’ve found some!” she yelled, not sure if Boris could hear her. “I’m coming, Boris, I’ve found the dock leaves!”

Boris waited patiently for her to arrive. His skin was tender and sore, and just the sight of the dock leaves brought him some comfort. Knowing relief was about to come, he motioned for Lilly to hurry up.

Lilly placed the dock leaves all over Boris’s exposed skin.

“There, Boris, that should help,” she said. “You should start to feel better soon, very soon.”

She was right; the dock leaves did the trick, easing the sting of the nettles almost immediately.

Boris had never been so glad to see a plant in his entire life or to see Lilly, for that matter. His eyes still filled with tears, he dabbed the leaves gently all over his face. The stinging had ceased, but the swelling of the welts had not. They were huge and painful and covered all of his exposed skin. They actually seemed to spread with each scratch.

“Oh, Lilly, what would I have done if you hadn’t been in the forest?” Boris asked. “Really, what would I have done?”

Lilly smiled at her friend and sat down once again beside him on the log.

“Well, I was, and that’s all that matters,” she said.

She hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked around the forest. “But now,” she said nervously, “we’ve got to figure out how on Earth we’re going to get you out of here.”

Boris gratefully held a dock leaf on his cheek, dabbing it occasionally on his forehead.

“Oh, by the way, yes I did,” he said.

Lilly had no idea what he was talking about, and the puzzled look on her face clued Boris in to that fact.

“Dust—I did manage to load up on dust at the dusting parlor before I left this morning,” he said.

Lilly’s eyes lit up. This was by far the best news she had heard all day. She jumped up quickly and clapped her tiny hands together with joy.

“In fact,” Boris said smugly, “I filled up both pockets; I thought the dust monitor was going to stop me and ask me why such a young fairling needed all of that dust, but surprisingly, he didn’t.”

Lilly had no idea but she was actually hovering above the log, she was so ecstatic and relieved—especially since her dust was practically all gone. She didn’t have enough left to accomplish much of anything, let alone transport Boris out of the woods and back to the patch. The incredible, magical dust was a precious commodity, but it was definitely going to take more than Lilly had left, to get Boris home.

“Well, empty your pockets, Boris, I’ll catch it,” Lilly gleefully instructed as she cupped her hands together and held them stretched out in front of her.

Boris carefully leaned to one side and put his tiny hand deep into his pocket. Suddenly he had the oddest look on his face as his little hands dug even deeper into the pocket of his britches. His joy was soon crushed as he pulled out an empty pocket for Lilly to see. No dust.

“Hurry, Boris, check the other one,” Lilly squealed in despair.

To their dismay, the other pocket bore no sign of the precious dust either. It was empty, so there was no hope of getting Boris out of the forest.

Lilly hit the ground hard her wings quit fluttering, her heart sank. She was momentarily startled, as she hadn’t realized she was hovering so high.

“I don’t know what happened,” Boris cried. “I loaded up with dust at the dusting parlor, I swear I did.”

Lilly collapsed in a pile on the cold forest floor; she could barely talk.

“You must have lost it during your crash,” she whimpered, trying as hard as she could to hold back her own tears.

“That’s the only explanation.”

Not daring to get her hopes up again, Lilly took a deep breath, calmed herself, turned to Boris, and asked him one more incredibly important question.

“Boris, do you by chance have your wand with you?”

Boris checked. He didn’t, but he had left the patch with it earlier that day.

“I had it earlier. I know I did because I held on to it as tight as I possibly could as I was falling through the trees,” he said.

Lilly looked over at the infamous pile of debris that Boris had landed in when he crashed through the trees.

“Well, if it made it,” she said, “It’s got to be in there.”

Very carefully she dragged a long stick toward the pile. She poked and prodded, moving leaves and twigs until finally she caught a sparkly glimmer out of the corner of her eye. For just a moment she had hope that it might be intact, but looking at the state of Boris, she knew better. Sure enough, the wand emerged from the debris, the top broken, snapped practically in half and the star hanging by a thread.

Lilly held it up for Boris to see.

Hoping against hope, he asked, “I don’t suppose you have yours on you, do you?”

Lilly shook her head as her heart sank.

“No. I was gathering daisies and I wasn’t supposed to be out,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d be doing anything that required the use of my wand.”

It was Boris’s turn to be strong, although at the moment he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that. He put an arm around Lilly and tried his best to reassure her.

“Don’t give up, Lilly, we’ll get out of here, you’ll see.”

Grateful for his kind words though not convinced, Lilly felt completely helpless. For the first time, she felt as if there were nothing she could do. Recognizing that her fears were about to get the best of her, she dismissed them.

“If you can’t think positively,” she told herself, “well then, just don’t bother thinking at all.”

She held Boris’s plump little hand as tightly as she could. “Let’s put our heads together,” she said. “We’ll think of something.”

Boris nodded, although he had no idea what they were going to do. His foot was throbbing now, and he felt sick to his stomach.

“Together,” he said. “We’ll figure this out together.”