The Fairy Rebel by Lynne Reid Banks

and buried her face in her hands.
    “So! You make her magic gifts, do you?” hissed the Queen. “But not this year, eh? This year you had other things to think about than fancy clothes and wasting your magic on human children!”
    Once again she reached above her head and clapped her hands, and once again two wasps buzzed down. Jan guessed whom they brought with them this time, and sure enough, when the Queen pointed, Wijic appeared. He, too, was a sorry sight. His red tunic was torn and dirty, his hair had turned brown, his green skin was pale and his shoes and cap were gone.
    Yet he, too, when he saw Jan, grinned at her and raised his hand in half a wave. Then he spotted Tiki and his grin slipped.
    They stared at each other. Wijic turned for a second and gave the Queen—standing there so fierce and proud—one look of fury and hate. Then he ran across the backs of the wasps and grabbed Tiki in his arms.
    They clung together. Jan couldn’t bear it.
    “You wicked, cruel creature!” she shouted at the Queen. “Look at them! Your own fairies! How can you, how can you treat them like this?”
    “They disobeyed me, and they are disobeying again!” cried the Queen. “Get back, elf! What do you mean by it? Don’t you know that love between fairies is forbidden? You may love only your Queen!” A wasp heaved itself out of the mass under the fairies’ feet and thrust itself between Tiki and Wijic. Jan wrung her hands and bit back her tears.
    “Now you will see what happens,” said the Queen, “when fairies meddle with human beings, and when humans accept their gifts. Look behind you!”
    Jan turned. Through the dark mist she could see her house, with the shower of toys halfway down its wall and everything still. At the back of her mind she knew that up there in Bindi’s bedroom everything else was still. Time itself was standing still while the Queen sat there on her tower of wasps.
    “I am going to call your child,” said the Queen.
    “No!”
    “Yes. I have only to snap my fingers and she dies under the weight of a thousand toys. As for
these …
” She pointed her forefingers at Tiki and Wijic. “They are as good as dust already!” Two huge wasps turned their stings upon the fairy and the elf, ready to strike as soon as the Queen ordered it.
    The Queen clapped her hands once more.
    At once everything started to move again. The dark mist went away. The holly bush snapped back into its place. The wasps that had been flying through thedead roses flew again, though they didn’t attack Jan now. The shower of toys fell down the rest of the way with a clatter.
    And suddenly, out through the broken window came Bindi.
    Jan shrieked with fear. But then she saw that Bindi was sitting on a big blown-up rubber duck. It fell from the window with Bindi on its back, clinging round its neck. The duck bounced as it landed, and Bindi, unhurt, got up quickly.
    She looked round and saw Jan at the bottom of the garden.
    “Mummy!” she cried, and ran toward her.
    Jan wanted to tell her to stop, to go back, but she couldn’t say a word. Bindi rushed up to her and clung to her.
    “Mummy! It was awful—it was that rose twig—it made everything keep coming and coming.…”
    Jan hugged her close. “It’s all right,” she said, though it wasn’t. There was nothing else she could do.
    Then Jan caught sight of Tiki over Bindi’s shoulder. She was staring at Bindi’s back. A strange thing was happening—unless Jan was imagining it. A little color was creeping back into Tiki’s hair, and her wings seemed to be fluffing. She was whispering something—some one word.
    Jan leaned closer, still holding Bindi tightly. Bindi’s ponytail had come loose and her brown hair was hanging down over her shoulders. Tiki was staring at it. And that was what she was whispering, as she had once sung it joyfully while she danced in her pink ballet dress:
    “Hair—hair—hair!”
    “What are you muttering to yourself, fairy?” demanded the