Chapter 1 – Arrival of the Mirth Moth
Twiggletown lay drowsy under a honey-sun sky, the air tasting faintly of berry pie and warm bark. Wooden walkways curved between giant hollow-tree homes, their round doors painted in bright colors—ruby red, moss green, and butter yellow. Fuzzy-eared Labubu children chased each other along the vine bridges, their laughter mingling with the chatter of dandelion finches.
In the main square, beside a tinkling brook, trouble was brewing.
“Skinny-kinny Bu-bu, twiggy tail and noodle knees can’t outrun the giggle bees! You’re so skinny one sneeze and you’ll get blown clear into the Whispering Woods!”
Amelda-Bu’s singsong voice cut through the sunshine. Her plump orange fur gleamed like a ripe tangerine as she waggled her pink tongue. Poor, thin Velda-Bu stood frozen beside Pippa, her pale lilac coat trembling, tears beading in her wide eyes until they looked like dew on morning grass.
A spark of righteous Bu-ire ignited in Pippa’s chest, right beneath her soft sky-blue fluff. Her rounded ears twitched, whiskers quivered, and her nose scrunched into a fierce little frown.
“Listen, you fat, rolling moonberry,” she said, stepping forward on stout paws, “zip up the bullying or you’ll be sorry.”
“Oh, yeah? Bite me, Pufftail! I’m not afraid of you!” Amelda puffed out her cheeks, making herself look even rounder.
Pippa’s temper boiled. That prickly, tingling fizz started at her ears and rushed all the way to her toes. She shoved Amelda, not hard, just enough to make her stumble back.
But instead of stumbling, Amelda shot backward as though caught by a strong invisible gust. Her amber eyes and mouth made perfect matching “O”s before she splashed into the cold brook that ran through the middle of town with a mighty plop. Water droplets sparkled in the sunlight as they rained down on the mossy bank. Amelda sat up, frilly pink dress soaked, golden fur plastered flat, mud streaking her hair ribbons.
“Oh no,” Velda gasped.
Pippa’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t shoved that hard… had she? Odd things always seemed to happen when she was this angry.
“Let’s get out of here,” Pippa whispered, glancing at the townsfolk leaning from their round doorways, whiskers twitching with gossip.
The two girls scampered away, their short legs pumping, until they reached their hollow-tree homes.
Pippa’s home was warm and round as a teacup, with polished wood walls smelling faintly of acorn shells and sweet herbs. In the center room—part kitchen, part living room—Mama-Bu sat in her favorite carved chair, peeling acorns into a bowl. Her fur was a soft aqua-green, and her eyes, as big and bright as morning dew, lifted in greeting.
“Did you have a nice day at school, Pippa-Bu?” Mama asked.
Pippa fidgeted. “Mama-Bu, why do the other kids keep laughing at me? We’re eleven now. Shouldn’t they know better?”
Mama turned, ears tilting forward. “Pippa, did you take off your hat?”
The orange tuft; that streak of fur atop Pippa’s head; had been there since birth, bold as sunrise against her sky-blue fluff. Mama called it “special,” but the other Labubu whispered behind their paws. So Mama always made her hats: plump berets with ribbons, wide brims with flowers, anything to hide the tuft.
“Welllll…” Pippa twirled the bright strand around one claw.
Mama sighed, shaking her head. “How many times have we talked about this? You must hide that orange thing. It’s… unfortunate that you’re different.”
“But it was so hot today! Sweat was dripping off my ears!”
Before Mama could reply, the round door banged open and Baba-Bu bustled in. He was a big, gray-furred Bu with the build of a raincloud and the smell of fresh berries. His rucksack bulged with blueberries.
“Pippa, what’s this I hear about you pushing Amelda Bumblehorn into the stream?”
“She was calling Velda bad names,” Pippa said. “I told her to stop, but she kept chanting, so I pushed her. I didn’t mean for her to fall in—it was just a tiny push!”
Baba-Bu frowned. “Some say the stream wasn’t even that close. They swear she flew.”
Pippa swallowed, remembering that strange tingle again. She opened her mouth to answer—
And a sparkle-giggle sound fluttered through the open window.
Something fuzzy and pale green zipped inside, a green and black striped moth the size of a teapot, with golden wings dusted in glitter, blue antennae swaying like tiny lanterns. Its large yellow eyes locked on Pippa as it hovered in place. With a dainty dip, it dropped a scroll on her nose, then vanished in a puff of pink glitter and stardust.
Mama gasped. “That’s a mirth moth!”
The scroll smelled like spun sugar. Pippa removed it from her nose and cracked the purple wax seal, but the page was blank…until she sneezed.
A rainbow shimmer rippled across the parchment, and curly letters appeared:
You are officially summoned to attend Whimsyfang Academy – where you will learn to sparkle bright, prank light and magic always. Attendance is based on your ability to catch the bus that runs away. Follow the mirth moth tomorrow at 6:00 pm sharp!
The words danced as if tickled by the breeze. More magic shimmered in the air—cotton candy scent and rainbow motes whirling, until with a poof, a plum-colored velvet pouch dropped to the floor.
She released the tied drawstring, peeked inside and removed a sheet of silver paper. “what’s this?” She murmured as she read:
This pouch contains your magic and mischief starter supplies. Inside you will find your very own squeaky magic wand, a bag of invisible glitter (that will appear with the right spell), your special magical identity cap, a pocket-sized vat for cooking up magic, and a single lemon drop that makes your voice echo like a ghost for five min (do not use until properly trained).
Her heart thudded. A magic academy? She looked at Mama and Baba.
They exchanged glances, eyes wide.
Baba-Bu cleared his throat. “Well, by the burrows…”
Mama-Bu’s voice was soft. “Whimsyfang…that explains everything.”
“What do you know about Whimsyfang Academy?” Pippa demanded. She had never heard of such a place. How did it explain anything?
Mama brushed the fur on her tummy with a shaking paw and slowly sank into a chair at the table. “I knew you were a lucky paw when you were born with that tuft of orange fur that won’t go away. I reckon you’re a fey-Bu.”
“What’s a fey-Bu?” Pippa asked, more confused than ever.
“It’s a Labubu with magical abilities,” her baba answered.
“Fey-Bu are rare and they go to Whimsyfang Academy to learn what magical gifts they have and how to use them without blowing things up or creating too much mischief.” Her mama shook her head. “I hate to think of you leaving home to go there even though I suppose it’s a great honor.”
“She doesn’t have to go,” Baba said, fiddling with the buttons on his vest with one paw.
“How do they know I have magical abilities, when I don’t even know that?” Pippa frowned.
“We don’t know all their secret ways of divining magical children, but I’ve heard one way is that every spring equinox, the headmistress calls the Whispering Wind, which passes invisibly through every village. If it brushes past a Labubu with dormant magic, it gathers a tiny trace of their aura song. These songs drift back to the Academy on the wind, where professors sort them by magical specialty, and the most promising children are summoned to study at the academy.” Her mother turned to her father. “Honey-Bu, we have to let her go. She has gifts, we have suspected it for a long time. She deserves a chance to develop her talents, and Whimsyfang is the best place for that.”
A surge of excitement sparkled through Pippa. She was magical! Maybe that meant she was special and not weird the way Twiggleton town folk always thought. Studying how to use her hidden gifts sounded a lot better than staying here and having kids make fun of her the rest of her life!
She cast an expectant gaze in her father’s direction. Now she really wanted to go.
Baba paced a bit around the small room, scratching the fur of his chin and muttering under his breath. He finally paused in front of her and straightened his spine.
“Mama-Bu is right, you should have this chance, Pippa.”
“Maybe there are other Labubu with peculiar hair like me at Whimsyfang,” she said hopefully.
“Oh, my sweetie-Bu, I’m so sorry you had to suffer because of that.” Her mother enveloped her in a warm hug. “You should chase the rainbow tail and go to Whimsyfang so you can discover your dreams.”
She smiled, snuggled against mama-Bu’s chest. Yes, she wanted to discover her dreams, she would go to the academy tomorrow and find them.
