Fairies are the spirits of flowers. It’s common knowledge, isn’t it? Daisy-fairies, buttercup fairies, dandelion fairies. But even cacti bloom—that is, technically, they have flowers. And they also have their fairies. Technically. Even the devilishly Untearable Thistle with Very Sharp Prickles has its own little fairies. Technically. That is, of course, you shouldn’t call them “fairies” to their faces if you don’t want to get in for trouble—just like you shouldn’t call them “little” either. In fact, it’s best not to live in the same universe with them if you don’t want to get in trouble.
How convenient that fairies live in the Country of Fairies. Technically… that is, until they emigrated “as a protest against the bloody and soulless regime of the Fairy Queen.” And not because they were thrown out for wild drunken parties, rudeness, brawling, and unrestrained thievery that turns into outright banditry. And now, the Little Folk under the leadership of the Big Man with the eloquent name Rob Enybody lives on the Flat World, on the Chalk Plains.
But dealing with the Little Folk has been the duty of witches since ancient times. Only who has ever heard of witches on the Chalk Plains? You can’t grow a witch on chalk. The power of witches comes from the earth—so what kind of power is there in chalk deposits? The truth is, if you need flint, you look for it exactly on the Chalk Plains… a small, but very hard and very sharp stone. And what if it ends up in your boot?
Pay attention: Tiffany Aching, nine years old—a tiny, but unbreakable lady with a very sharp mind. And also a consciously practiced habit of always being in the very right place at the very right time. Or, depending on how you look at it, in exactly the opposite situation.