It is hard to write about fairies!

A tidbit from Godmother:

The water was bright blue and tasted of berries. Above us, I could see the lake’s surface, the rays of light cutting through. I stretched out my arms. Maybeth, my sister, slept next to me, wrapped in a yellow seaflower and her own wings, swaying from side to side. I reached over and shook her awake. Her eyes flung open—bright blue eyes, water eyes. We both laughed as she unwrapped herself from the thick petals and kicked herself up towards the surface. I spread out my wings and followed. On the lake floor our friends were still sleeping, tiny lights, like stars nestled among the flowers and plants.

We broke through the surface, into air.

I opened my eyes. From a distance I could see the storm that was hovering over the world of humans. “Look.”

“What?”

“Rain. The sky’s gone dark.”

“Oh,” Maybeth said, flipping herself into the air. “I guess you’ll just have to stay with me then.”

I clutched a stone and pulled myself onto it. “I have work to do,” I said. “Remember?”

“Do it later!”

“I can’t do it later!” I laughed at her, flicking my hand and spraying her with water. A scented breeze whispered through the trees that lined the lake, rippling through the leaves. The water shone in the light, the rocks and pebbles gleamed like gems.

She flicked a few droplets back at me. “But I hate it there,” she said. “Hate it hate it hate it.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“Oh, fine,” she said. “Just leave me all alone.”