sounds like people too. Mermaids and people are very similar. Mermaids are just … sharper about it. They hold grudges for centuries, not weeks. They live for so long you never know what’s floating around in their heads. They’re hard to pin down.”
Willa thought about this. What kind of family could she have that included a mystery like Belle?
The bird was now frozen in place, head tilted a little, eyes blazing as she stared unblinking into Tengu’s eyes.
“Tengu! I think you’ve got her!” Willa whispered.
Tengu had stopped humming, totally absorbed in the staring contest. Willa held her breath. The room was silent. The bird looked like a statue. Tengu was swaying slightly, his eyes bugging out. Then one eyelid twitched and he let out an ear-splitting …
“SQUAWK! SQUAAAAWK!”
“Tengu!” Willa gently put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Tengu! Snap out of it.”
“Wha? Hm?” He let out another sputtering squawk and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Behind him the bird crashed into the bars of the cage.
Willa sighed. “Nothing. Thanks for trying, Tengu.”
“No sweat,” he answered with a bright smile. “SQUAWK!”
The phoenix screeched Willa awake just after five on Saturday morning. To be fair, though, the bird had been woken by the fairies at the window. It took Willa a groggy moment to register that they were there, five little figures with Sarah in the lead, rapping their tiny knuckles on the glass and chittering like squirrels while the bird screamed. Willa moved the birdcage into her closet and shut the door. She made shushing signals to the fairies, but they only hollered louder.
“All right, I’m coming out! Hold on!” she snapped, grabbing her robe.
The house was still and quiet. Willa tiptoed out the back door just as the fairies came around the corner. She sat on the back step as they swarmed around her head in a cloud of chatter.
“I can’t hear what you’re saying! STOP TALKING!” Willa turned to Sarah. “What is going on?”
“Iron nails! To keep us out!” she squeaked.
“Who’s got iron nails?”
“The dwarves,” hissed Sarah, her eyes blazing.
“Okay. Are they magic or something?”
“Anti-fairy magic!”
“So … they’re keeping you out of the work site. With iron nails?”
Nods all around. Willa rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“I dunno. That seems reasonable, don’t you think? They need to do their work, and you were bugging them.”
The fairies didn’t like that very much. Willa heard some low growls. She tried again.
“You’ve got to make peace with the dwarves. We need the house finished. Can’t you just be nice to them?”
The fairies looked to Sarah as she considered this. Then she nodded slowly, with a sly smile. The fairies flew off in a huddle, whispering and laughing. Willa didn’t like it one bit.
After breakfast, Willa grabbed her bike and rode over to Eldritch Manor. Eldritch Hole-in-the-Ground is more like it, she thought. As she stepped into the yard and closed the gate behind her, she spotted Tengu sitting in the grass, happily eating a muffin.
“Good morning, Willa!”
“Hi, Tengu. What’s this I hear about iron nails?”
Tengu shook his head. “Don’t worry, I pulled them out.” At his side was a small pile of roughly made nails.
“Actually, I was thinking they were a good idea.”
“Not necessary. A truce has been called. The fairies made a peace offering.”
Willa raised an eyebrow. “A peace offering. Really?”
Tengu jumped up, showing her the last of his muffin. “Yes, they made rosehip gooseberry muffins. Fantastic.” He popped it into his mouth. He smiled at her. Then his eyes rolled back in his head. He was snoring before he hit the ground.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Willa nudged him with her foot. “Tengu. Tengu!” It was no use. He was out cold.
She spun around to see a swarm of tittering fairies emerge from the basement and zoom off into the trees. She heard chuckling behind her. Robert was in the stable window, leaning on the sill and enjoying the show.
“This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks!” he enthused. “Go on! You’d better check on them!”
The scene in the basement was just as she had feared. Sleeping dwarves lay heaped on each other, snoozing where they’d dropped. The fairies had festooned them with daisies and dandelions, their long hair and beards had been braided one to the next, joining them together in a chain, and their faces were made up with rouge and lipstick.
Willa burst out laughing but composed herself before emerging. She stomped into the woods.
“Mab! RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!”
The only way to get them in line was to mean-teacher them. If it was at all possible to intimidate the Queen of the Fairies, that is. It didn’t help that she could hear Robert behind her, laughing and stomping with glee. That’s okay, thought Willa, maintaining her scowl. I have a secret weapon.
Mab sauntered up, hovering in the air at Willa’s eye level. Sarah followed, a little less sure of herself, hiding behind her boss. Willa narrowed her eyes.
“Mab. This is no joke. Wake them up this instant!”
“Wake who up?” Mab batted her eyelashes.
Willa bit her lip, furious. She stared Mab right in the eye.
“If you don’t wake them, I’ll tell Miss Trang.”
It made her feel like a schoolyard tattletale, but it got results. Mab hesitated, her eyes flashing. Then she turned to Sarah.
“Did Sarah put someone to sleep? Bad Sarah-pie! Go wake them up. Go on!”
Sarah smiled sweetly, bowing her head. “It’s already being done, your High-and-Mightyness.”
Willa turned to see a crew of fairies running the end of the garden hose into the basement.
“Noooo!” she wailed, rushing over. Too late. She arrived just in time to see the water hit the dwarves, who jumped up, stumbling over their entwined beards
