she could see it by its own light. The dead petals layscattered near it, and the heart of the star beat like a pulse in the darkness.
Jan felt terrified of it. She tried to reach out her hand, but as she did, the pulsing light grew stronger, the beat quicker, like a warning signal. Her hand drew back by itself. Her feet began to run before she’d told them to. She found herself back in the house, leaning against the locked back door, panting and gasping.
When Charlie came home, he found her still pale and shaky.
“Charlie, that—that thing Bindi found. We must get rid of it. It’s—alive. It’s awful.”
Charlie saw that she had had a fright.
“I’ll see to it in the morning,” he said. “Come on. Bed for you.” She didn’t feel strong enough to argue.
Next morning, Bindi woke up very early. She’d had bad dreams all night, and now she had that flat, letdown feeling you often get on the day after your birthday when all the excitement is over. She had it specially badly this year, because it seemed her fairy had forgotten her.
Then she remembered that there had been a rose-present, even though not a very nice one. She lay in bed thinking how oddly her parents had behaved about that poor, withered rose she’d found growing on the holly bush. They shouldn’t have thrown it away. Perhaps it was just one of Tiki’s tricks, and if only they’d brought it into the house it would have turned into a magic toy, like the others.
At this thought, Bindi jumped out of bed, put onher slippers and ran into the garden. In the middle of the path, she stopped.
The strange, thorny twig was gone.
Only the dried-up petals still lay scattered on the path. If they hadn’t been there, Bindi might have thought she’d dreamt the whole thing.
She turned toward the pear tree. Every year until now, the thank-you presents had gone. This year they were still there. The silver charm rose winked in the grass. Bindi bent to pick it up—and then jumped back.
A big stripy wasp was crouched on the rim of the cap, sucking up the honey.
Bindi stared at the wasp. Somehow it reminded her of a fat tiger, drinking at a jungle pool after it has eaten a big meal.
She felt suddenly sick. And furious. Without stopping to think, she snatched off her slipper and hit at the wasp with it.
“Go away, you hateful thing!” she shouted. “Don’t you drink Tiki’s honey!”
The wasp flew up with an angry noise. Bindi struck at it again and hit it, but she just knocked it sideways in the air. It buzzed around in a circle and then flew away.
Bindi stood there with one bare foot in the grass and a sick, empty feeling inside her. “I should have killed it,” she thought. But she hated killing things.
She walked slowly back into the house. Her parents were still asleep. Bindi decided to get breakfast for herself. She went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard where the cereals were. She chose herfavorite, which had the sugar already on it. She got out a bowl and opened the packet, which was brand-new. First the cardboard, then the sealed paper bag inside. She poured the white sugary flakes into the bowl. Then she dropped the packet on the floor.
Riding on the stream of flakes had come two large wasps.
How could wasps possibly have found their way into a sealed bag?
They were sitting in the bowl on the heap of frosted flakes, feasting on the sugar. They waved their horrid antennae at her and seemed to guzzle. Bindi wanted to shout at them and shoo them away, but she was afraid of them.
She left them there and ran upstairs to her bedroom. She wanted to jump back into bed and pretend the day hadn’t started yet, because so far it had been worse than her bad dreams in the night.
But just as she was going to jump into bed, she stopped.
Lying on her pillow, in the dent where her head had been, was the rose twig.
4
The Necklace
She stared at it from a little way away. Well, it certainly was magic, that was for sure. How else could it have
Jan felt terrified of it. She tried to reach out her hand, but as she did, the pulsing light grew stronger, the beat quicker, like a warning signal. Her hand drew back by itself. Her feet began to run before she’d told them to. She found herself back in the house, leaning against the locked back door, panting and gasping.
When Charlie came home, he found her still pale and shaky.
“Charlie, that—that thing Bindi found. We must get rid of it. It’s—alive. It’s awful.”
Charlie saw that she had had a fright.
“I’ll see to it in the morning,” he said. “Come on. Bed for you.” She didn’t feel strong enough to argue.
Next morning, Bindi woke up very early. She’d had bad dreams all night, and now she had that flat, letdown feeling you often get on the day after your birthday when all the excitement is over. She had it specially badly this year, because it seemed her fairy had forgotten her.
Then she remembered that there had been a rose-present, even though not a very nice one. She lay in bed thinking how oddly her parents had behaved about that poor, withered rose she’d found growing on the holly bush. They shouldn’t have thrown it away. Perhaps it was just one of Tiki’s tricks, and if only they’d brought it into the house it would have turned into a magic toy, like the others.
At this thought, Bindi jumped out of bed, put onher slippers and ran into the garden. In the middle of the path, she stopped.
The strange, thorny twig was gone.
Only the dried-up petals still lay scattered on the path. If they hadn’t been there, Bindi might have thought she’d dreamt the whole thing.
She turned toward the pear tree. Every year until now, the thank-you presents had gone. This year they were still there. The silver charm rose winked in the grass. Bindi bent to pick it up—and then jumped back.
A big stripy wasp was crouched on the rim of the cap, sucking up the honey.
Bindi stared at the wasp. Somehow it reminded her of a fat tiger, drinking at a jungle pool after it has eaten a big meal.
She felt suddenly sick. And furious. Without stopping to think, she snatched off her slipper and hit at the wasp with it.
“Go away, you hateful thing!” she shouted. “Don’t you drink Tiki’s honey!”
The wasp flew up with an angry noise. Bindi struck at it again and hit it, but she just knocked it sideways in the air. It buzzed around in a circle and then flew away.
Bindi stood there with one bare foot in the grass and a sick, empty feeling inside her. “I should have killed it,” she thought. But she hated killing things.
She walked slowly back into the house. Her parents were still asleep. Bindi decided to get breakfast for herself. She went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard where the cereals were. She chose herfavorite, which had the sugar already on it. She got out a bowl and opened the packet, which was brand-new. First the cardboard, then the sealed paper bag inside. She poured the white sugary flakes into the bowl. Then she dropped the packet on the floor.
Riding on the stream of flakes had come two large wasps.
How could wasps possibly have found their way into a sealed bag?
They were sitting in the bowl on the heap of frosted flakes, feasting on the sugar. They waved their horrid antennae at her and seemed to guzzle. Bindi wanted to shout at them and shoo them away, but she was afraid of them.
She left them there and ran upstairs to her bedroom. She wanted to jump back into bed and pretend the day hadn’t started yet, because so far it had been worse than her bad dreams in the night.
But just as she was going to jump into bed, she stopped.
Lying on her pillow, in the dent where her head had been, was the rose twig.
4
The Necklace
She stared at it from a little way away. Well, it certainly was magic, that was for sure. How else could it have
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