Molly Spungle:Mystery of the Red Stone

By Jessie L. Best

Molly, a young Spungle fairy, finds herself in deep trouble, wandering lost and alone through a strange forest. Her idyllic life shattered, Molly is in grave danger from an evil sorcerer who will stop at nothing to possess her magic. With wings so damaged she cannot fly, escape becomes even more impossible. Her magic fading fast, the young fairy wonders if the mysterious red dragon she meets can help her out of her predicament. What will it take to free him from his imprisonment by the mystical red stone?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessie L. Best
• Release date: Jan 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370079810

Jessie L. Best

Jessie Best was born in the Ottawa Valley region and moved to the Toronto area as an adult. She has worked in the healthcare field for many years. She is now planning on making writing her second career. Jessie is the mother of one son and the grandmother of a boy and a girl who, from time to time, add valuable feedback about her endeavors.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Broken Wings

Molly Spungle, in a terrible hurry, half ran, half stumbled across the moss covered tree trunks. Frightened and fragile, her broken wings covered by her long green cloak, Molly looked over her shoulder. Keeping a watchful eye out for the dreaded creature that had been chasing her in this mysterious place, she increased her pace.

Molly flew high and low in her attempt to escape, finally losing the bird-like creature with the long sharp talons.  Seconds later, she crashed into a large hawthorn bush. Penetrating her cloak, the thorns tore her wings as the fairy struggled to untangle them.

Swallowing a sob of sheer frustration, she stopped briefly to tuck in a few strands of the long, curly, red-gold hair that escaped the hood of her cloak.

Molly spied a small group of bushes that would hide her quite nicely and sat down on a rock in the midst of them to catch her breath. She slipped off the cloak and examined the damage to her wings. It was appalling. She only just managed to stop the tears from falling from her dark green eyes.  Her family crest was gone. The once beautiful rose colored wings hung from her shoulders, broken and ripped to shreds. Molly could not fly at all. Worse, there was not a fairy pot potion around to repair them.

The young fairy looked around in utter bewilderment, her delicate features revealing her confusion. Where was she? Who or what had brought her here? Straight ahead there was only trees and bush for as far as she could see.

Rising again, she made her way to the tallest tree, deciding to follow the path that ran underneath its broad branches. Pushing through them, Molly came across a sign nailed to an old wooden fence. Pulling away the thick vines that almost covered it, she read the words aloud, Fielders Forest.

The warning that followed gave her a feeling of uneasiness. She wondered who they could be talking about.

Intruders Beware

Of the wrath of red stone.

Only one belongs here.

Leave her secrets alone!

Fielders Forest? But it didn’t really exist. It was a place she heard about only in stories and tales around the fire. It was an old myth, with many tales being spun of its dangers and the strange creatures who lived there.  It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

Here I am, she cried, right in the midst of a forest that doesn’t exist! Now she was hopelessly lost, and it was already turning into night.  I am so tired, she sighed. The yawn tumbled out of her fairy lips before she could stop it. I must rest.

Crawling inside a large pile of leaves that looked as if they had fallen from the tree just for her, Molly sighed again. Thankful at least for this resting place, she closed her eyes. Her small fingers gently enclosed the dark red stone pendant she wore around her neck. The young fairy’s father had given it to her upon his death bed. It had belonged to her mother, being handed down in her family for hundreds of years.

Jackson Spungle had been the revered chief of their colony. He ruled his clan with a wise and gentle hand, his small kingdom following him without question.  The stone is magic, he told her, looking deep into her eyes, his own twinkling with secrets. A red robe covered his frail body, his face growing paler when struggling to speak.

Magic, she repeated. At the age of five, Molly was far too young to really understand what magic actually meant.

You will find the magic in the stone when you are older, he told her, his face growing more serious and his breath coming in short gasps.

You have only to caress the stone three times and it will…. Her father’s voice ceased at that point and he passed into the Realm of Immortality without finishing his explanation of the red stone.

As Molly grew older, she came to treasure the pendant as a cherished memory of her father.  Holding it between her palms each night, a vision of him appeared before her, vivid, lifelike, and smiling.  Molly, grateful every day for this much of her beloved father, still grieved, wishing with all her heart that she had known him better.

She was the only child, her mother having died under the tusks of a wild boar in Molly’s infancy. The fairy was convinced her ability to see him was the magic he talked about upon giving her the red stone pendant.

Chapter 2

Invisible Divide

As Molly lay hidden in the leaves, lonely and frightened, she recalled the life she had been forced so suddenly to leave behind. She lived an idyllic existence in the Spungle fairy population. Her uncle had taken her father’s place and cared for the young child as if she were his own daughter.

Spending her days perfecting her flying, Molly studied the movements of the magical fairy dances. These agile steps and motions caused the Invisible Divide that separated the Spungle fairies’ village from the World Outside, to vanish.

Go with the music, Molly. Let it enfold you and wrap itself around you, Margil, her teacher, had coached her. Molly, snug in her bed of leaves, smiled at the memory, wishing with all her might that she was home.

Larger in stature than other fairies, yet not quite as large as humans, Spungles had sensitive, pointed ears and delicate features.  Each fairy shared the trait of large feathery wings bearing the authentic Spungle crest of each family. Beautiful, they shimmered to a hazy blur as they flew.

  On the third day of each month, when the moon appeared full, round, and deeply yellow, the Spungle fairies would gather to dance through the air, their wings moving with passion to the beat of fairy music. Red rose trees, their flowers opening only on these hallowed occasions, produced the haunting and bewitching music. It enticed the Spungle fairies to dance without restraint.

The music was powerful and intoxicating, guiding Spungle wings and feet through every movement of the red rose dances. Thus, the Invisible Divide disappeared. Only at these times, did the fairies venture into the World Outside. For two whole nights they left their small villages.

 On these enchanted evenings, Spungle fairies would come together with all the other populations of their own kind. Flying to the fairy stone circles, located at the bottom of the huge Hills of Halle, the fairies performed their dances. Later, they would feast around a huge bonfire. The pungent aroma of fairy potions and elixirs, heated in the fire to seal their secrets and activate their magic, filled the air for miles around.

I would give anything to be there right now! Molly cried out loud, becoming restless with longing. 

The Spungle fairies removed the potions on the second night when the last of the magical multicolored sparks died down. Each Spungle colony received their portions to take with them. The glowing embers were removed, placed in jars and buried in sacred ground, close to the Hills of Halle. On the next red rose occasion, the fairies would use the same smoldering magical embers to relight the fire, making the mystical potions that would last until the next full moon.

With the spells produced from these magical fairy pots, the Spungles enjoyed their special powers, using them to create a happy long life and plenty for their villages. Each individual fairy wand was dipped in the potions, their magic lasting until the next full moon.

When the round, deeply yellow moon waned and daylight drew near, the fairies would dance their way home. The Invisible Divide returned at daylight. The music ended, the red rose blossoms closing until the following month. The fairies were left with only a trace of magic when the end of the month drew near and the potion pots were empty.

Tossing and turning in the leaves, Molly feared that life as she always knew it had ended forever and with no warning at all. Would she ever return home to her friends and family?

At the guidance of the fairy elders, Molly learned the secrets of the Spungle fairies, their spells and special magic.