The Fairy Rebel by Lynne Reid Banks, William Geldart, William Geldart |, NOOK Book (eBook) | Barnes & Noble
The Fairy Rebel

The Fairy Rebel

4.8 23
by Lynne Reid Banks

View All Available Formats & Editions

The Fairy Queen strictly forbids fairies from using their magic power on humans. But after Tiki accidentally meets Jan, a woman who is desperate for a baby daughter, she finds it impossible to resist fulfilling her wish. Now up against the dark and vicious power of evil, this fairy rebel must face the Queen’s fury with frightening and possibly fatal results.


The Fairy Queen strictly forbids fairies from using their magic power on humans. But after Tiki accidentally meets Jan, a woman who is desperate for a baby daughter, she finds it impossible to resist fulfilling her wish. Now up against the dark and vicious power of evil, this fairy rebel must face the Queen’s fury with frightening and possibly fatal results.

From the Hardcover edition.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
From the author of The Indian in the Cupboard and its sequel comes a story of earthly enchantment. When Tiki, a fairy, is ``earthed'' on Jan's human foot, both are terrified. But because Jan, unlike most adults, believes in fairies, the two become friends. When Tiki learns that Jan is sad because she and her husband Charles can't have children, the flighty fairy performs a bit of forbidden magic. Her act provokes the wrath of the wicked Fairy Queen, but Jan's daughter Bindi grows up to be a healthy eight-year-old, receiving magic presents every year from Tiki. Then the Fairy Queen exacts her revenge on the family, and it is only through the combined powers of humans and fairies that the evil ruler is defeated forever. Told in the grand fashion of early 20th century fairy tales, Banks's story is a comfortable, old-fashioned read (with numerous witty asides) about a naughty but courageous fairy and her loving mortal friends. Illustrations not seen by PW. Ages 10-up. (Oct.)
Publishers Weekly
PW called this tale of a naughty but courageous fairy who defies her queen in order to give a childless couple a baby "a comfortable, old-fashioned read." Ages 9-12. (Jan.) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Children's Literature
Typically fairies are thought of as friendly, mischievous creatures in gossamer dresses that are frightened of humans. Not the fairies in this book. These fairies wear jeans and love humans. They are also very afraid of the Fairy Queen. Tiki is one such fairy. Jan is a human that was a dancer until she was in an accident and hurt her leg. The only thing that could make her happy is a baby. Tiki grants Jan's wish and gives her Bindi. Bindi grows up knowing that Tiki is her guardian, but one day the Fairy Queen finds out and Bindi must save Tiki and all of the other fairies from the tyrannical queen. This is a sweet, simple story. Many times fantasy novels for young adolescents are too complicated for struggling readers to understand. This book is perfect for those readers. It is very straightforward and easy to follow. The chapters are short and it even includes some pretty illustrations. The characters are likable and the enemy very unlikable. It is a good introduction into fantasy and a good novel for older kids who do not like to read. 2004, Dell, Ages 8 to 11.
—Heather Robertson
School Library Journal
Gr 3-5 Jan and Charlie long for a child but are unable to have one. In the garden, Jan meets Tiki, an unusual, spirited fairy who prefers jeans to pink frills and converses with Jan in spite of the anti-person rules of the tyrannical Fairy Queen. Tiki decides to use her powers to help Jan. However, she mixes up the requests for brown hair and blue eyes and must appeal to the Queen for more power. The Queen punishes Tiki by locking her in a hornets' nest. Thus begins a tale of magic, suspense, and adventure. The baby, Bindi, is born with 20 magic blue hairs at the nape of her neck, but the Fairy Queen and her evil hornet henchmen are an ever-present threat. Banks has woven yet another successful fantasy. Her management of detail and character create a tense atmosphere. The magical elements are consistent throughout, and the descriptions of the Queen and the hornets are realistically frightening. As a result, the suspense builds to a tingling climax that resolves in a satisfying conclusion. A compelling fantasy that will appeal to children, whether read aloud or alone. Marion B. Hanes, New York Public Library
From the Publisher
“A compelling fantasy that will appeal to children, whether read aloud or alone.”
School Library Journal, Starred

“Told in the grand fashion of early 20th century fairy tales, Banks’s story is a comfortable, old-fashioned read.”–Publishers Weekly

Product Details

Random House Children's Books
Publication date:
Sold by:
Random House
File size:
3 MB
Age Range:
9 - 12 Years

Read an Excerpt



If you happen to go to school just outside London, you might find yourself sitting next to a girl called Bindi. If you do, perhaps you think she is perfectly ordinary. She has brown hair and hazel eyes and is a little bit plump—not fat, mind you, just nicely chubby (though she gets teased a lot about it). She looks and dresses and talks the same as anyone else.

But I am going to tell you why she’s not really ordinary at all.

The story starts quite a few years ago. To understand it, you have to know a little about her mother and father.

Her father’s name is Charlie, and he’s a doctor. Not a surgeon, the kind who does operations, but a GP—the kind who comes to visit you when you’re ill. Her mother, Jan, is an actress—and not just any old actress. She would never tell you so, but she was once a star.

That was when she was younger. She was small for her age, and very beautiful. She could sing, and dance. She played young girls’ parts on the stage, in films and on television. Everyone said she had a wonderful future.

But then something awful happened.

One day she was acting in a television studio when a heavy lamp fell on her. She was in the hospital for a long, long time, and when she came out—although she was still beautiful and still talented—she couldn’t walk properly. She had a bad limp.

So she decided she couldn’t really act anymore. She couldn’t bear people to see her limp and feel sorry for her.

One good thing came out of her accident, though. While she was getting better she met Charlie, and they fell in love and got married. They bought a small house with a lovely garden, which had fruit trees in it. Jan loved trees. She also loved sweet things to eat. She loved them too much in a way, because now that she couldn’t get much exercise, she began to put on weight. Soon, instead of being slim, she was rather roly-poly. But she still had a lovely voice, and long dark hair, and beautiful eyes.

When Charlie looked into her eyes, he could see a lot of hurt in them. He wished Jan would talk about this, but she never would. She could still act, and she acted being perfectly happy. She could walk quite well enough to look after the little house and do the cooking and mess about in the garden.

Shopping was a problem at first. But Charlie had a talk to one of the local shopkeepers. After that, Jan would ring him up and tell him what she wanted, and later the same day, a boy on a bicycle—with a special metal basket in front—would bring all her shopping to her in a cardboard box. No one ever told Jan where the bicycle had come from. Charlie had bought it.

So things went on for a year or two. But then the hurt in Jan’s eyes began to get worse. Charlie understood why.

“Stop worrying,” he told her. “The accident only damaged your leg. There’s no reason on earth why we can’t have a baby.”

But it seemed there was a reason, though nobody could discover what it was.

Another year went by. Now Jan was beginning to cry in the nights when she thought Charlie was asleep. During the days her face was covered with little shadows. And Charlie had to coax her to sing for him, or even talk very much. So of course Charlie also grew sadder and sadder, and the little house and garden and even the fruit trees seemed to get sad and droopy.

One day, Jan was sitting in the garden under a pear tree. There were sweet ripe pears above her head and all round her on the grass, but she hadn’t the heart to eat one. She was just sitting there crying, all by herself. And that is where the story of Bindi really begins.

Suddenly Jan felt something settle on her foot. She glanced down through her tears and saw a fairy sitting on her big toe.

It is a very rare thing indeed for a grown-up to see a fairy. It’s pretty rare for a child to see one, though I’ve heard of a few who say they have. The reason is that although there are fairies of many sorts and sizes flying about outside all the time (though not as many in town as in the country), they are, of course invisible. As a general rule, they are not only invisible but unfeelable. They have bodies, very small ones, but they are so light that you can’t feel them. You can walk through a drift of them and not even know it—most of the time.

But, if a fairy, or an elf, lands on a human being—whether on purpose or by accident—then it not only becomes visible, but it has a solid body, and that body has weight. That’s why, when this fairy landed on Jan’s foot, she felt it at once, though it was very light—about as light as a rather large butterfly resting on her. (She had bare feet at the time. If she’d been wearing socks she probably wouldn’t have felt it at all, and then this story would never have happened.)

Jan and the fairy stared at each other. Jan forgot her sadness in amazement, and then in delight. The fairy was such a sweet little thing. She wasn’t specially beautiful. Not all fairies are beautiful, any more than all people. This one, just like Jan, was rather fat. She had a round little face and pale pink hair, which glistened in the sunlight. Her wings were neither long nor graceful, but rather short and stumpy, and covered with furry stuff like a moth’s wings; but they were a lovely color, a sort of pinky lavender. But the most utterly astonishing thing to Jan—apart from her being there at all—was her clothes. She was wearing a full, floaty top, which seemed to be made of tiny petals all stuck together. That was quite fairylike. But her legs were covered with what looked like a minute pair of blue jeans, and these were definitely not fairylike at all.

From the Hardcover edition.

Meet the Author

Lynne Reid Banks is the author of the award-winning The Indian and the Cupboard.

From the Hardcover edition.

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Write a Review

and post it to your social network


Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews >