Prilla and the Butterfly Lie (6 page)

“B
-B-B-BUT IT WAS JUST HERE
a minute ago,” Prilla stuttered. She turned to Vidia. “You saw it. Tell her!”

Vidia gave her a wicked smile, which made Prilla even more upset. She turned to the queen. “It’s true! It was just there!”

“What did the butterfly look like?” the queen asked.

“It was pink and bronze,” Prilla said.

She was trying hard not to cry. “It was very small.…”

The queen burst out laughing. “Perhaps it looks like the butterfly that is sitting on your head?” she asked.

Nettle started laughing, too. Vidia shook her head, smirking.

Could it be true? Prilla reached up. Sure enough, there was a butterfly sitting on her head like a jaunty little hat! It took off into the air and landed on the toadstool. It was the very same butterfly Prilla thought she had startled to death.

“But how…?” Prilla began.

“Oh, Prilla,” said Nettle, catching her breath. “Don’t you know that butterflies like to play practical jokes?”

“What are you talking about?” said Prilla.

“They’ll do anything to play a trick on you,” Nettle explained. “One time a butterfly carried away my best pair of shears. And the next morning, all the caterpillars had terrible haircuts!”

“And there was that time a herd of butterflies picked up a sparrow man who had fallen asleep in a patch of clover,” Queen Clarion added. “They took him to one of the highest branches of the Home Tree. He was horribly confused when he woke up later, high above the ground.”

“But this is the meanest butterfly trick I’ve ever seen,” Nettle told Prilla. “Imagine, it pretended to be dead so you’d think you had killed it.”

“It
was
a good joke,” Vidia said. She liked mean jokes.

Prilla stared at the other fairies. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “That can’t be right,” she said. But then she started thinking about the day’s events. Getting stuck on the twig. Having her hands tied up with spider silk. The sneezewort. The missing muffins. The berry that fell on her head. Tripping over the pebble. The stinkbug attack. And this—the butterfly that played dead.

“I can’t believe it! So
that’s
what’s been going on all day,” said Prilla. She was so relieved, she started to chuckle.

Nettle and the queen gave her puzzled looks. “But you love butterflies. So why didn’t you know about them?” Nettle finally asked.

Prilla stopped laughing. It was time to tell the truth. “I–I–I told a lie,” she admitted. She was too ashamed to make eye contact with anyone. She stared at her shoes as she spoke. “I said that I liked butterflies. But the truth was that I didn’t really like them at all. And I didn’t know a single thing about herding them. I still don’t!”

“But why did you say you liked butterflies?” the queen asked.

Prilla gulped. She began to explain how at first she had felt honored when other fairies asked her to help out with their talents. And how, after a while, it had begun to take time away from her own talent. But she had been afraid to say no to the fairies who needed her.

Prilla turned to her friend. “Nettle, to be honest, I don’t really like shearing caterpillars. I’d rather blink over to the mainland. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. So I pretended that I liked butterflies.”

“Prilla,” said Nettle, “you silly fairy. I love my talent. I think you’re crazy for not liking it, too. But I would never want you to do something you didn’t like.”

“Yes,” said the queen. “Prilla, you can be an honorary whatever-you-like talent in your spare time. But Pixie Hollow has only one mainland-visiting clapping-talent fairy, and we need you.”

Vidia snorted. “Imagine liking butterflies! Didn’t you think something was odd when no one else would volunteer?”

“Not even animal-talent fairies like working with butterflies!” Nettle added. “They’re one of the only creatures they can’t communicate with.”

Prilla nodded. She felt embarrassed and happy and relieved all at once. Then she noticed that the pink and bronze butterfly had landed by her feet. She looked at it affectionately. Sure, the butterflies had made her life difficult. But they were beautiful creatures. And they really didn’t mean any harm; they were just…mischievous.

Perhaps she didn’t hate butterflies after all.

Prilla took a step toward the butterfly. Immediately, she sprawled out on the ground. The sneaky little butterfly had tied her shoelaces together!

There was a moment of embarrassed silence. Then Prilla started laughing. Queen Clarion and Nettle joined in. Vidia crossed her arms and gave Prilla a mocking look.

And the butterfly? It was laughing, too, of course!

No,
Prilla thought, shaking her head.
I definitely do not like butterflies one bit, that is for sure!